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Richard Castle, Watcher (Castle/Buffy) (Complete)

Sunnydale, January 2003
Sunnydale, January 2003

"We're up against the First Evil. The force who invented the concept of evil. How many of us will die, screaming, in the battle? So many potentials have been killed already…" Eve sighed dramatically, and Castle was sure the girl was close to crying. And the rest of the potentials - their number had grown over Christmas again - were not doing much better. With the exception of Kennedy, who was putting the moves on Willow. She'd made progress over the holidays too, the redhead didn't try to flee anymore when she was getting cornered by the rich girl. Still, she was not falling into the potential's arms, and if she'd hold out another week, then Castle would win the pot.

"But we're with the Slayer. We're safe!" Rona answered Eve. The redhead, Vi, nodded.

Eve shook her head, hugging herself. Castle would have tried to calm her down, but each time he as much as took a step towards her, she was shying away from him. "She won't be able to protect us. She can't even protect her best friends, or their friends. Xander's best friend was turned under her watch. Willow's girlfriend was killed because of her. She's a danger to us all!"

"And you're dead!" Buffy was suddenly standing in the door, to his horror, Castle saw two daggers flying towards Eve - and passing straight through the girl, as if she was… oh, Buffy hadn't gone crazy, but had been speaking literally.

Eve sneered at them, then laughed. "Finally found my corpse? It doesn't matter. None of you will escape me!"

"We found her body. You're not Eve, you're the First! And we'll kick your ass down to hell whenever you dare popping up!" Buffy stepped in front of the ... ghost? Projection? Illusion?

Laughing louder, the girl disappeared. Buffy turned around, addressing everyone. "Alright, we've been infiltrated by the First. She can take the form of any dead person you know. Knew. Whatever. But she can't touch anyone. So, we'll be using a buddy system, and touch ourselves a lot. I mean, each other." The Slayer corrected herself while blushing slightly.

Xander nodded. "If you see someone alone, touch them. Even if you know they're not dead, touch them. Get in touch with your inner toucher. Now's the time to get all touchy but not touchy-feely."

Most groaned at Xander's puns, but a few of the girls looked very interested. A squeak from Willow told Castle that Kennedy had adapted the new policy enthusiastically.

"That's touching, not groping." Rick added.

"Actually, that pretty much was groping, " Anya cut in. "Xander used to grope me all the time like that, and then we had sex."

"A touching revelation we all would like to hear more about, but I'll have to find Mary and inform her of this." Rick knew a clue to exit the stage when he saw one. Martha's rehearsals had seen to that. He took a step back, grinned at the coughing Xander, who was the center of attention now, and left the room before any of the underage hotties or former vengeance demons decided to grope him.
 
Sunnydale, January 2003
Sunnydale, January 2003

Rick Castle would have thought that leaving the Hellmouth - even if only for a day or so - would make him feel relieved. Like a small vacation. Or some day off.

He should have been suspicious when everyone else begged off from helping Rupert driving the potentials out to the desert so they could meet the First Slayer in some binding ritual or vision quest, to strengthen their spirit and maybe themselves as well.

"Stop that noise, we've been listening to that shit for hours now! Switch to a channel that plays songs from this millennium!" Kennedy complained. She had already been mad at not getting to grope Willow for this trip.

"No! We've been listening to your garbage for hours, this is just where it's getting good." Rona, sitting up front, didn't share the other potential's taste in songs.

"Shut up you two, I am reading here!" Annabelle glared at both.

"If I have to sit in the middle in the back, I get at least to pick the song!" Violet piped up.

"No you don't!" Kennedy disagreed. Again.

"Not for the whole trip!" Annabelle chimed in.

"I don't care, I am switching channels now!" Rona exclaimed.

"Hold her back!" Kennedy tried to grab the other's arm.

"Leggo of my hair!" Rona whined, the seatbelt hindering her defense against Vi.

Watch it, I… ooof!" Annabelle had just become collateral damage in the latest fight over the radio.

While Annabelle and Vi started to strangle each other, Rick grit his teeth, then channeled his best inner drill sergeant, or what he thought he'd be like, and bellowed at the four annoyances: "Would you girls stop acting like children? My eight year old daughter is more mature than all of you combined, and she has tantrums over her dinner!" Granted, that had been over all the salt and fat and sugar in Pizza, and right after she had read a health brochure, and had been worried about his and Martha's health, but they didn't need to know that as long as they shut up. Which they did.

He used the time to switch the channel to a country station. In hindsight, that had been a mistake as well. At least he could be certain that none of them were the First.

*****​

"How did you survive the drive?" Rick asked while clapping Rupert on the back. No First here either.

"I am not sure I did. I am quite certain that they play Britney Spears in hell itself after this drive." The British Watcher shuddered while their charges limbered up after the long drive.

Castle looked around the rather desolate desert while Rupert gave instructions to the girls to build a fire. If not for the lack of uniforms, it could be mistaken for a girl scout camp. Or a catholic school field trip. Right down to the complaining and bitching. Even outside the Hellmouth's influence it was still destroying some of Rick's fondest fantasies.

With the help of a bit of spare gas they got the fire going, though, at which point Rupert broke out the incense and other drugs - not that Castle's straight-laced colleague would ever call them that - and told the potentials to gather around the fire and get ready to meditate with their favorite weapons in their laps.

To the author's surprise, it didn't take long for the girls to enter a trance - one after the other their postures changed. He felt a shiver run down his spine when the last girl stared into the fire with glazed-over eyes, her breathing slowing down noticeably. "That's damn creepy."

"You've never meditated, I take it?" Rupert laid out a quilt and sat down.

"I faked it a few times to impress a girl that was heavily into New Age. Does that count?" Rick asked while sitting down next to his colleague.

"I don't think so," Rupert answered, but he was grinning.

Mary would have scowled at him for not being serious enough. Well, she was the one stuck doing some ritual to find out more about the First, together with the rest of the scoobies! She was also not the one sitting in the desert staring at a fire and hoping this was as cold as it could get in California. "So… now we wait?"

"Now we wait." The British Watcher pulled out a book from his bag and started to read.

Rick busied himself by checking his Ack Pack, and his other weapons. Twice. Then he sighed. Before he could say anything though, Rupert handed him a book.

"'A treatise on the Hellmouth'? Seriously? You know none of those authors can write worth a damn!" Castle raised his eyebrows at Rupert, but the man kept reading his own book.

An hour later, Castle was ready to burn the book. That author couldn't write to save his life! Or anyone else's! He could almost feels his brain cells die from boredom. Only the knowledge of what Rupert would do to him should he burn what now was a substantial part of the Watcher's library - until they got access to the microfilm copies, at least - kept him from acting on his urge.

"Did you hear that?" Rupert's voice interrupted his thoughts. He had known the man was not as engrossed in his own book as he had appeared to be! "Someone's coming!"

That made Castle tense up at once. Two men alone in the desert, with a bunch of drugged teenage girls and enough weapons to re-enact the Battle of Hastings, plus esoteric books… that wouldn't paint a pretty picture for anyone taking a closer look. Hopefully it wasn't a cop or a member of whatever passed as rangers in California. But when he saw over a dozen robed figures approaching them, he wished they were cops.

"I don't suppose hooded robes are the new black in California?" Rick asked while he slipped his flamethrower on.

"While I am no expert on West Coast fashion, I do believe this is not the case." Rupert got his sword out. "More are approaching from the other side."

"That's far enough!" Castle shouted. In a lower voice, he added: "Always wanted to say that!"

The first figure threw back its hood, revealing a human face with eyes stitched shut. Castle didn't wait for Rupert to identify them and pulled the trigger. His first one-second burst caught the leading demon… thing, and the two next to him. They burned almost as well as vampires, but not quite as quickly, and shrieked inhumanly as they thrashed around on the ground.

"Dear Lord, Bringers!"

"Cover my back!" Castle fired another burst at the demons on his side, then ran towards Rupert, who was falling back from half a dozen, with more behind them, while readying a Molotov cocktail. Another two bursts from the Ack Pack incinerated most of them, and the cocktail took care of the surviving one, but Castle could see more demons coming at them - rushing them now. He sprayed fuel on the ground in a wide arc, then ignited it, forming a barrier of fire on that side, but in the meantime, the demons on the other side had gone around the burning ones, and were now charging at the fire - and at the still entranced potentials.

"Wake them up!" Castle shouted, firing desperately at the demons. He had five, now four ignition charges left, but he had used more fuel than usual for the barrier.

"It's dangerous to wake them when they are in trance!" Rupert yelled back, slashing at one demon and cutting off its hand.

"Getting killed by demons is dangerous too!" Rick fired at the next demon, turning it into a flailing burning figure. When he next pulled the trigger, the ignition charge went off, but the fuel cut off after half a second. It was enough to drive the next one back, but they were still surrounded. "Do it!" he shouted, hitting the quick-release on the harness Xander had constructed and drawing his sword.

He met the next charge of the closest mutilated demon with his blade, barely managing to deflect the blow from it, then slashed its belly open when it lost its balance for a second. He still had to fall back when it kept coming at it even while its guts were sliding out of its belly.

"They're not waking up!" Rupert shouted more bad news. Between the fire, the still burning gasoline on the ground, and the smoldering demons, Castle was sure there were at least half a dozen of the bringers left. Probably more. And they were stronger and faster than either him or Rupert! Tougher too.

He saw another one running towards the closest girl, and ran to intercept it. He succeeded - in a way. The demon stopped to attack him, and Castle couldn't evade quickly enough. A blow to his stomach drove the air out of his lungs and threw him back and to the ground. He lost his sword in the fall, not that he felt like he'd be able to lift it. Coughing and panting, he managed to roll on his stomach, then started to get up when he saw the eviscerated demon walking towards him as well.

Rupert was busy fighting - or rather, getting beaten - by two more, there would be no help coming from him. Castle rolled to the side, grunting in pain, and managed to evade getting stomped into a thin paste by the demon behind him. He threw a handful of sand at its head, which it ignored. A rock bounced off its head, causing it stop its advance for a second, only to grin evilly.

Rick realized then he'd die here. Torn to pieces, or crushed and broken. He, Rupert, and all the potentials. Why hadn't anyone thought of such an attack? Planned for it? Another three flamethrowers, or one Slayer, and the demons would have been dead.

Dead like he'd be in a second. The demon not dragging its guts over the sand grinned and closed in, raising its hands to smash them into Rick. He would have liked to make a last defiant remark, but he couldn't think of a good one in the second he had left to live.

Then the demon's head separated from its neck, and the body toppled over in a spray of blood. Vi stood behind it, sword in hand and still in trance. She wasn't alone. All around Rick - and Rupert - the potentials were falling on the demons, slaughtering them with a ferocity Castle hadn't seen before. They looked more than a little like demons themselves, especially in the flickering light of the burning fires.

Rick managed to get on his feet, and stumble over to Rupert, who was holding his arm but otherwise seemed to be OK. "Did you expect that?"

"I didn't expect it, but it was a possibility," his colleague answered, adjusting his glasses.

"What's going on?" Castle winced when he saw Vi and Kennedy disarm a demon - literally.

"Possession. The First Slayer's possessing them." His British friend bit out.

"That's a good thing, right?" Rick shuddered seeing Rona wear a grin more feral than human while she split a demon's head.

He looked at Rupert, and the other man's expression was answer enough.
 
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Sunnydale, January 2003
Sunnydale, January 2003

"You know, Vi… Violet… that's close enough. Really. Personal space is a thing, you know? A thing I need." Rick Castle knew he was babbling, but any man faced with a possessed potential Slayer sniffing him while covered in the blood of Bringers would react the same way.

"T-this is n-not a-apropriate, Miss. You are u-underage and I am f-far too old f-for y-you… really."

Case in point: Rupert was babbling a few yards away from him, faced with Rona tugging at his belt. None of the girls had spoken since the fight.

"No one ever mentioned this when I joined the Council." Castle was backing away from Vi, slowly, to avoid provoking the predator currently possessing her. He wasn't certain she understood him anymore. "Everyone only ever mentioned the dangers of getting killed by demons. No one said anything about potentials. Is this common for such events?"

"T-there have been r-reports about some Slayers - some! - h-having c-certain urges, after a b-baamhph," Rupert's explanation was cut off by Rona grabbing the Englishman's head and mashing her lips on his. For a moment, everyone seemed to be staring at the two. Then a growl cut through the sudden silence. Annabelle grabbed Rona's hair and pulled her away from Rupert, throwing her to the ground in the process. Rona didn't take that lying down, and soon the two were fighting.

Castle would have usually made a comment about needing mud, if not for Vi still being far too close to him, and the fight looking more like the Hulk vs. The Terminator than Cindy vs. Cherry in the Dream Palace in Las Vegas. And it was spreading - the two bumped into other potentials, who took offense as if this was a testosterone-filled Saloon in a Western.

Rupert used the opportunity and fled to his car. Castle followed his example, praying that Vi wouldn't give chase.

God wasn't listening that night though, and the author was tackled and brought down a few yards from his M3.

"That's a first down, Vi. Well done! Now you have to get back up in linooof!" Castle was flipped on his back in mid-babble, then straddled by the possessed girl. He was quite sure she almost crushed his hips while she ripped his shirt off. She leered at him, grunting, and reached for his belt.

Before she managed to rip his belt and pants off though, she was hit in the face with a load of white powder. Coughing, she rolled off Castle, who was covered with in the powder himself.

"Run!" Rupert yelled while emptying Castle's car fire extinguisher into Vi's face. Rick staggered to his feet and ran to his car, followed by Rupert.

Inside, both men, panting, looked at each other.

"Can they break through a car window?" Castle asked while trying to find out if he really had a broken pelvis, or if it just felt like it was broken.

"In their state, anything seems p-possible."

They didn't stop the car until they were half a mile away.

*****​

"Welcome b… what happened to you?" Buffy was staring at Castle and Rupert, mouth wide open. They were a sight, alright. Clothes ripped, bruises visible, white powder from the extinguisher still covering skin here and there.

"We were attacked by Bringers during the ritual." Rupert stated. "We beat them with the help of the potentials. There were no casualties."

The potentials mumbled some agreement and filed into the house past Buffy. They didn't sport any bruises, some healing factor must have kicked in Castle thought, but their clothes were torn up as well, and they kept their heads down. The drive back had been a very quiet affair - no one had wanted to talk about the fight, much less what had happened afterwards.

"That must have been a battle!" Buffy sounded almost jealous.

"Yes. We were in quite the sticky situation, but we persevered." Rupert commented, looking as dignified as a British man could with his shirt and part of his pants missing.

"Wow, G-Man! Did you have an orgy out there?" Xander joked, then paled under the combined glares of the potentials and the two Watchers. "I'll be… checking the boiler." The young man fled with all due haste.

Rupert shook his head. "That boy's tongue will be the death of him, one day."

"That's what my mother always said about me!" Castle grinned at his friend's glare.

"So, did anything important happen while we were on our trip?" Rupert asked, in a tone that made it clear he expected the answer to be "No."

Buffy nibbled on her lower lip and studied the floor. "Wellll…. define 'important'?

"Buffy?" Rupert stopped polishing his glasses and cocked his head at her.

"Well…" Buffy's smile looked more and more forced.

"Yo, G!" A well-endowed dark-haired girl in black leather and jeans waved at them, leaning on the door to the living room. "New guy!"

"Faith." Rupert said in a cold voice.

"Gee. Chill, G. I am here to help. Got a Slayer dream in prison, and some demons tried to kill me, so I broke out and made my way here."

Castle realized that this was Faith Lehane. The rogue Slayer. The Killer.

"I see." The British Watcher looked at Buffy, who cringed slightly and shrugged. He gave a very curt nod to the two girls and headed towards his room.

Buffy went after him with a slightly whiny "Giles!"

Faith turned to Castle. "You know, I would have thought that he'd be a bit loosened up after driving for hours with a couple half-naked chicks in the car."

"I can say from personal experience that such an event is highly overrated. At least without copious amounts of alcohol." Castle responded.

"Ah… they didn't want to use you to take care of their horny urges?" Faith grinned. "Well, if you've got a case of blue balls, I can help you out."

If this ever got out, Castle would lose his "ruggedly handsome rake" and "Bro Club" membership cards. "Thank you for the offer, but I need rest. It was a pitched fight, and we all got banged up."

When the Slayer snickered, Castle rolled his eyes and walked past towards his room. Hopefully the locks would keep any further trouble out until he had slept for a day or so.

*****​

The next morning, Castle felt far better. Well-rested, his bruises treated, his clothes fresh and whole, he smiled on his way to the kitchen. No one there seemed to share his good mood though.

"What happened?" He asked Buffy, the one who seemed the most coherent.

"Slayer dreams. Everyone had them - me, Faith, all of the potentials." Buffy answered, holding a mug of coffee in her hands and staring at the wall.

"I take it they were not the kind of dreams that leave you happy or frustrated." Castle made a weak joke and got a cup of coffee himself. He still hadn't bought a better coffee maker.

"No. Giles's trying to do the decrypting thing. He must be into his third batch of 'fascinating"' by now." Buffy took a sip from her mug, and closed her eyes. "Your ex-wife is trying to help him." She opened her eyes and turned to him. "Do you think the two were an item in the past?"

Castle spit out his coffee. "What? How did you come up with that?"

"Well… they're both British. They're both Watchers. They both like books and tweed and tea." Buffy explained.

"That's no base for a relationship." Castle stated, refraining from making a Monty Python reference. "Besides, I assure you, Rupert has much better taste in women!"

Buffy smiled at that, though with relief and not humor, as far as Rick could tell. He didn't know what to make of that.

"Well… with Rupert and Mary busy, and the potentials - we really need to find a catchier name, by the way - recovering from their dreams, maybe we should work on reinforcing the villa's defenses. I've got a couple ideas." Castle refilled his cup and hunted for a croissant, or anything edible the Slayers and the proto-Slayers had missed.

"What a coincidence! I have some ideas as well!" Xander grinned broadly, and snatched the last doughnut before Castle could claim the box. "We might have to raid the local Army base though, to get all I need."

Castle didn't think robbing the US Army was a smart move. They wouldn't accept "we need it to save the world" as an excuse, unless he was completely mistaken. "Let's see what we can do with legal supplies first, Xander."

The young man sighed, but nodded. "OK. We can do it the no-fun way too." The glance he and Buffy exchanged didn't look like he had given up though.

"You look like you've got experience robbing the armory." Castle raised his eyebrows.

"Well… we might have borrowed a few things in the past, to battle evil of course." Xander said.

Buffy nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! The rocket launcher for the Judge. The detonators for the bomb we blew the school up with. The missiles we used against Glory. The machine gun against Adam's horde."

"That doesn't count, Buffy, that was from the Initiative." Xander corrected her.

"It was still the army's though!" Buffy protested.

That sounded less like an Army base, and more like a self-service weapon supermarket. Well… it was quite surprising how much an upcoming apocalypse put things into perspective. "I always wanted my own tank." He had been five at the time, but some dreams never died.

"We can get a tank?" Buffy perked up. "I didn't know they had tanks there!"

"They don't, Buffy." Now it was up to Xander to be the killjoy, and destroy the dreams of people… well, not everywhere, but at least in this house. "But we can stock up on all sorts of rockets, explosives, guns and grenades."

"And fuel." Castle added. "Lots of fuel for flame traps." The British Homeguard's flame traps might not have worked well against the Germans, would they have invaded, but they looked like tailor-made to battle demons.

The three shared some very nasty grins, then they stuck their heads together and started to plan.
 
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Sunnydale, January 2003
Sunnydale, January 2003

"I know you said it was easy to sneak into the base, but you didn't mention that the soldiers actually load up your truck for you. It really is like shopping in the supermarket…" Rick Castle, disguised as a soldier, refrained from shaking his head in disbelief as he muttered under his breath.

Xander, wearing the uniform of a Lieutenant, grinned while watching a squad of soldiers from the base labor to load the supplies he wanted into the truck they had commandeered. "When we got the rocket launcher, we used a pretty girl as a distraction, and came during the night. Since then, we've found out that Willow hacking up some orders, and Buffy sneaking in the office and dropping off the paperwork over night, so we can come and get it all legal-like, works better."

"If that's legal I don't want to know what you'd consider illegal." Castle was sitting in the cabin of the truck, playing driver.

"Hey, careful with that ordnance, private!" Xander shouted at a pair of soldiers handling a crate a bit too casually. The soldiers jerked, and almost dropped it, before recovering.

"I thought the ordnance couldn't go off if it was dropped." Unless Hollywood hadn't lied to him that time.

"It can't. But officers always make a fuss about it." Xander explained. "I'd rather be a sergeant, but I am too young-looking for that position, so I am a green, assholy 2nd Louie."

"I could have been the sergeant!" Castle grinned.

"No, you couldn't. Any real sergeant would have pegged you as an impostor right away." Xander shook his head, at the soldiers and at Castle.

"I'll have you know that acting is in my blood!" Rick answered.

"Must be running rather thin, then. Or you're better suited for other roles than tough sarges." Xander stood at parade rest, as he called it, checked his watch, and frowned some more. Rick cut his losses. Xander was too good at playing soldier. If it could be called playing if he had the memories of a veteran.

"Just hypothetically… if we get caught, how many years behind bars is that worth?" Rick asked, after a while, when the soldiers were carrying the last few crates out of the depot.

"In the current War against Terror? We'll be lucky to ever see the daylight again before we die from old age." Xander stated as if he was talking about the weather. If that was what growing up on the Hellmouth did to kids, Rick was very glad there was an entire continent between it and his daughter.

"Of course, if we mess up, odds are the First wins, and then we'd probably die before they even finish the investigation anyway. With the rest of humanity." Xander added, looking grim. Rick didn't know if that was an act for the soldiers, or a glimpse of the young man's real thoughts on the topic.

He still felt much better when he drove the truck out of the base, and he kept expecting someone - a tank, a helicopter, a jet - stop them before they reached the small forest, where Buffy and a few potentials waited, to switch cars and clothes.

*****​

"Vi! Don't open that! Annabelle! Put the C-4 down! Faith! What did we agree on loading weapons in the house?"

Xander was sounding like he was close to losing his temper, sanity, or both. Unpacking a truckload of weapons and ordnance and fuel with a bunch of potentials and two Slayers was like trying to keep a stack of fresh, juicy meat from a pack of starving wolves - nigh-impossible, and almost suicidal.

Ever since that trip into the desert, the potentials had been stronger, faster and tougher. Not on the level of Buffy or Faith, but far stronger than they had any right to be with their bodies. Rupert theorized that the Slayer Spirit had entered all of them, as a reaction to the attempt of the First to erase the entire Slayer line. Given their newfound skills and love of weaponry, they might have, in fact, been activated as Slayers - both Buffy and Faith had years of experience, and apparently, Slayers grew in power the longer they lived, which would explain the difference to the minis, as Faith called them.

Of course, if that was true, then that made the Cruciamentum an even more brainless practise, on par with shooting yourself in the foot, or belly, before a race. At least that was Castle's opinion. Mary had disagreed, and the row that had led to apparently even had impressed Anya.

"I've discovered the meaning of the dreams!" Rupert stormed into the living room, then froze at seeing it filled with modern weapons and enough explosives to blow up a school twice over. "Dear Lord!" Good thing, Rick thought, that his colleague hadn't seen the garage where they stored the gasoline for the flame traps.

"G-Man, I have never felt as close to you as today! I now finally understand just what you went through each day, before we grew up." Xander smiled tiredly at the older man.

"Hey!" Buffy apparently took offense at that, but since she was holding a partially-dismantled light machine gun in her hands, it didn't impress anyone.

"Xander… I approve of the sentiment, but I would contest the notion that you've grow up yet." Rupert looked around. "Anyway. I'm reasonably certain that I have deciphered the meaning of the recent Slayer dreams." Everyone present stared at him with anticipation in their eyes, weapons in their hands forgotten for the moment. "But maybe we should discuss this in a less … militarized area." Rupert smiled weakly, and started to retreat to the study.

When Castle noticed how that last line left all the Slayers currently carrying weapons confused, he heartily agreed. "Let's store the explosives at a safe place before we join him."

*****​

"So… we need to find a magic sword-thingy tied to the Slayer line so we can kill the First even without her having a real body?" Buffy Summers looked up from the M-60 craddled in her hands. She hadn't put the gun down since she had unpacked it.

"That's… the gist of it, yes." Rupert didn't sound too happy with his Slayer's talent for condensing his rather lengthy explanation into one sentence.

"And the only way to find it, since it's somewhere underground, is by magic." Buffy continued.

"That is essentially correct as well. The odds of finding it by conventional means border on impossible." Rupert nodded.

"Great. Since I am Slayer-girl, and not magic-girl, I can leave that to others and I can go play with my new baby then!" Buffy happily declared and left the study, followed by the rest of the Slayers, apparently as eager as the blonde to test the procured weapons.

"This is creepy. She's as enthusiastic about those guns as she is about shoes." Dawn commented.

"Isn't that normal for a Slayer?" Rick's personal experience so far certainly would lead to that conclusion.

"In the past, she preferred more traditional weapons." Rupert added.

"Well, she didn't let me fire the rocket at the Judge… even though I got more experience with it than she had," Xander mentioned. "And this is the first time we stole machine guns and assault rifles. We've kept things a bit more low-key until now."

"Rocket launchers are 'low-key'?" Rick asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Those were exceptions during emergencies."

"The local law enforcement turns a blind eye towards supernatural attacks, but they are unlikely to ignore automatic weapons, or firearms in general." Rupert explained. "And firearms generally do not do well enough against vampires and a slew of other demons to justify the added complications." With a glance at Xander, the Watcher added "Though there were exceptions."

Dawn muttered something about "Knights of Byzantium" Castle didn't catch, but those near her winced.

"Yeah," Spike added, "You can riddle a vampire with bullets, and unless you shatter the bones, it won't stop him for long." He grinned. "More than a few Initiative soldiers found that out the hard way when they were caught without their fancy tasers."

"They should perform well against Bringers though. And given the numbers we are facing, we'll need them." Xander stated. With a glance to Willow, who had been uncharacteristically silent ever since they had carried the weapons inside, he added "I am sorry, Will. We really need them."

The witch, apparently one of the most powerful practitioners of magic known to what was left of the Council, slowly nodded. She and Xander hugged each other. There was a tragic story behind that, Castle knew, but he wasn't about to pry.

"Does that mean I get to pick a gun too?" Anya asked eagerly.

Dawn chimed in as well: "And me?"

Everyone else stared at the two, shaking their heads in unison. "No."

The resulting argument took an hour to resolve.
 
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Sunnydale, February 2003
Sunnydale, February 2003

"It's truly a sign of the Apocalypse!"

"What is?" Rick Castle looked up from where he was putting one of the last nozzles of the flame traps on the balcony overlooking the driveway to the villa when he heard Xander's comment.

The young man pointed at the column of the last cars leaving the town in the distance. The streets had been full of them for weeks. "You know, rivers of blood, frogs raining down from the sky, Sunnydale residents finally fleeing the Hellmouth. They stayed despite death rates and people going missing in numbers that would have given refugees from Somalia pause, but now they've fled. Everyone. Everyone but us."

"Principal Wood is staying in his school too. Dawn said so, last time she checked." That was one dedicated principal. And probably soon one dead principal, given that his school was built right on top of the Hellmouth. Castle had been suspicious of the man, but he had checked out.

"He doesn't count. Son of a Slayer, rogue vampire hunter… he's like us." Xander's respect for the man was audible in his tone.

Neither man commented on the reason Wood hadn't joined forces with him: Spike. The vampire who had killed his mother. Wood hadn't taken the news of Spike's redemption and resouling well. Of course, 'Sorry for killing your mum. She was a good fighter. Do you want her coat back?' might have been an honest attempt at an apology for Spike, but it hadn't been a very effective one. Buffy knocking the man out when he had tried to stake the vampire then had pretty much sealed the deal. Or rift. When they found the scythe and moved against the First, they'd have to deal with Wood though. Castle wasn't looking forward to that.

"Xander! Castle!" Vi's excited voice announced her arrival before she reached the balcony. "She's done it!"

"Call me Rick, Vi." Castle turned towards her. "Who did what?" If that was another 'she touched my weapon' incident… no, she was too excited for that.

"Willow! She found the Scythe! We just have to recover it!"

"Great!" Castle smiled. With the 'Ghost Touch Scythe', as Xander had it dubbed in D&D terms, found, they only needed to recover it and stab the First with it, and he could return to his family.

"Fuck!" Xander exclaimed.

Castle turned towards him and was about to ask why he was not happy to hear the news when he saw a veritable army, no, a horde, of bringers move towards the villa. If he ever used such a scene for a book, he'd have the characters say something less profane, but right then, Xander's expletive summed his reaction up well enough.

"Fuck."
 
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Sunnydale, February 2003
Sunnydale, February 2003

"Hold fire!" Xander's voice rang out from the balcony.

"We can't wait until we see the white in their eyes - they don't have eyes!" Rick Castle snarked. It made it easier to refrain from shooting at the Bringers as soon as he had his rifle aimed. The demons were clad in dark, tattered and ragged robes, and charging at them like a human wave. Demon Wave. He was reminded of a few horror movies. Hopefully, this would not follow that sort of script.

Next to him on the balcony, Buffy had her M60 trained on the attackers, a feral grin on her pretty face. Anya, Dawn and Annabelle were on lookout duty on the roof, to the side and rear. Faith and a few more minis, as she called the new Slayers, would be down on the ground, in case the demons somehow managed to breach the walls. Castle couldn't see how they would achieve that though - they had enough ammo to reenact Omdurman, with great defensive positions to boot.

"Fire!" Xander shouted.

A dozen light machine guns opened up, and the first row of the bringers was cut down at once. The Slayers fired textbook short bursts. Castle simply pulled the trigger on his rifle as fast as he could. The author was reminded of World War 1 movies, the way an attack was mowed down in no-man's land. He felt almost a bit disappointed that he wouldn't get to use his flame traps judging by the rate the demons were dying.

But right then a giant explosion shook the entire villa, worse than an earthquake. Castle was thrown to the ground, and when he got up again, he saw that the entire front wall and gate had disappeared in a cloud of dust and smoke. Debris was raining down on the area, pelting them with rocks and chunks of earth.

And through that cloud came the Bringers. More than Rick had seen before, charging at the villa. Castle was still dazed, and struggled to move his rifle, but the Slayers were already shooting again, stopping the demons from getting farther than a few yards onto the front yard - or what was left of it. Faith and the others were shooting from the ground floor too now, and the bodies were piling up quickly.

The dust cloud was slowly settling, and Rick could see that the street had been torn up in a wide semi-crater in front of their lot. It looked like the protective spells Willow had laid over the villa and yard had saved their lives, for now.

Then more explosions went off, to the side and behind them. Smaller though.

"Sappers!" Xander shouted. "The walls are breached, shift fire! Hit the traps!"

Rick hurried to the flame trap set on the balcony, checked the nozzles, then triggered it. Much of the front wall's remains disappeared in the flames shot at it. A second later the traps at the rear and to the sides went off, and the villa was engulfed in smoke and fire. The screeching of dozens of demons burning to death drowned out the gunfire for a moment.

And still the bringers came at them. Burning, bleeding, trailing guts and body parts, they came. A group at the side managed to get through a spot where the flame traps had been destroyed by the explosion. A mini-slayer started to mow them down, but one of them pounced her. Seconds later it, she and part of the porch were torn to shreds by another explosion.

"They are carrying bombs!" Castle shouted, terrified now. Demon suicide bombing? Someone had seen too many war movies. Demons weren't supposed to be that smart!

Down below, near the garage, one Slayer had to reload. The few seconds this took were long enough for another bringer to pounce on her and the bomb it carried blew them both to bits.

Xander, who hadn't been shooting himself so far, was firing now. "We can't sustain this that long!"

Buffy shouted back "Breakout?" while she methodically shot the Bringers still trying to scramble over the blasted, burning remains of the front wall and gate. The tiny blonde was holding back the tide there almost by herself, but her 'Baby', as she had named her M-60, had to be overheating soon. Castle was shaking, but kept shooting at the ragged forms running at the villa below him. He didn't know if he was hitting them, or if someone else got them and he kept missing.

"The road's gone - we can't leave!" Xander threw a grenade to the side. "Fire in the hole!" He slapped a new magazine into his rifle. "And they'll massacre us if we try to run on foot."

"Cover me, Baby's needing her barrel swapped!" Buffy yelled, and Castle and Xander started firing at the front in bursts, then threw grenades. It wasn't enough to keep the Bringers from advancing. They were almost at the front entrance when Buffy started to fire at them again, and the bomb one of them carried exploded anyway, blowing a hole into the door.

"They can't have unlimited explosives, or we'd be dead already from the first bomb. We'll have to hold on!" Xander yelled.

"We don't have unlimited ammo either!" Buffy shouted back. Suddenly she froze for a split second. "They've gotten into the house, in the back!" She was about to stand up, but Xander put a hand on her shoulder. "You keep firing at the front. We'll handle the inside. Rick! Grab your Ack Pack!"

Castle nodded, shaking. He was going to die. He was going to be blown up in the house. Or burn to death when someone hit his tank. Alexis would be an orphan. He cursed as he picked up the flamethrower and slung it on his back. He'd take as many of them with him as he could.

The house was filled with smoke that burned in the throat and lungs. Rick and Xander rushed through the main bedroom. Willow and Rupert were chanting a spell there, Rick didn't know what it would do, while Mary stood guard.

"They're inside!" Xander shouted, and Rick's ex-wife stood up, following them.

"Just like old times!" Rick grinned at Mary.

She shook her head, crossbow ready. They had reached the stairs when another explosion shook the house, and dust and smoke billowed out from the kitchen. "They're worse than Buffy in the kitchen!" Xander joked, then fired at ragged figure coming at them.

The demon fell down, but two more climbed over it before it had stopped moving. Castle set both of them afire. Nine shots left. He had the sudden urge to sing "10 Little Indians". Mary shot a bolt at another.

Half a dozen Bringers rushed into the hall now, from the front and the back. Two were chasing a mini-Slayer, Molly, who had lost her gun, or ran out of ammo, and was slashing at them with a sword. Castle couldn't fry them without roasting Molly too. He shot at another demon, closer to the stairs. Xander downed another from the kitchen. Mary rushed down the stairs, slashing at a bent over demon, charging towards Molly.

Before Castle's ex-wife reached the mini-slayer, one demon impaled itself on her sword, and trapped the blade. The other grabbed Molly before she could back off, biting her throat. The Slayer's scream was cut off. Mary stabbed the demon and it let go, but the Watcher had been too late to save Molly. The mini-slayer fell to her knees, trying to breath through a ripped throat, drowning in her own blood. She was staring, pleading, at them, but there was nothing tehy could do for her.

Castle looked away, cursing under his breath, and fired another two bursts of flame at the kitchen and front gate area. Six shots left. Mary was getting flanked by another group of demons. She fell back to the stairs while Xander and Castle shoot at them and set them on fire. Rick didn't want to think about the Slayers that had been on the ground floor. They had to have been overrun. Just like he'd be soon.

A bringer leapt up and tried to climb the side of the stairs. Mary slashed at his hands, then kicked him down. Xander threw a grenade into a room on the other side, then drew his axe. He had to have run out of ammo, then. Rick kept firing, roasting half a dozen more before his tank ran dry. Breathing was getting more and more difficult.

He let the Ack Pack drop to the ground and hefted his sword. "None shall pass!"

"'Tis but a scratch!" Xander answered.

Mary stared at them. She had never liked Monty Python. Even though she was British!.

Before Castle could make another comment the entire entrance hall seemed to blow up and the stairs collapsed under their feet, sending the three of them tumbling down on the destroyed ground floor. Rick landed hard on rubble and a dead demon, and when he tried to get up his left arm hurt too much to move. Next to him Mary screamed, her leg impaled on a metal poker. Xander was on his knees, axe in hand, but half a dozen Bringers surrounded them.

Up close their mutilated faces, with their carved out and sewn shut eyes, looked even more horrible than Castle remembered. He had lost his sword in the fall, and he was groping around for something, anything to defend himself with. He only found a piece of rock before the demons moved.

Xander slashed at one, Mary tried to fend of another with her blade, and Rick threw his rock. As last stands went, it was pathetic.

Another figure suddenly came out the smoke filling the room, pouncing on the demons. Castle had never been so happy - never been happy at all - to see a vampire. Spike must have survived in the basement, guarding the sewers. He was wielding a fire axe and split the head of a bringer, then disemboweled another. Xander had downed his opponent in the meantime, and the others turned to face the vampire. While Spike fought them with the savagery and skill that had earned him a place among the Scourge of Europe, Xander pulled Mary off the metal poker and Rick looked around for his sword. He didn't find it, but a mangled piece of wood would serve as a makeshift club.

The four of them were turning to face the next Bringers when suddenly a bright light filled the room, blinding them all for a moment. Castle heard Spike scream in surprise and fear, but the vampire's reaction was drowned out by the roars and hisses from the bringers. Blinking, the author could see the demons stumble, then turn to flee.

From above, he heard "They're fleeing! You did it, Willow!", followed by a ragged cheer, and more gunshots. Rick took a bit to realize that he wouldn't die right then. That the demons were retreating. But when he did he turned to Xander. "Is this the moment when we complain about them getting away?"

Xander, bleeding from several wounds, chuckled. "That, or we complain about kill stealing witches."

Spike and Mary were staring at them and shaking their heads in disbelief. Rick didn't care. He simply laughed with Xander, laughed until the vampire and his ex-wife joined in.
 
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Sunnydale, Februar 2003
Sunnydale, Februar 2003

Half of the villa was rubble, the rest ruined. The garage had fared a bit better, but looked like it would be condemned by any building inspector anyway. It had saved the life of Faith, who had climbed - or maybe jumped, Rick wasn't sure such a feat was beyond either of the two oldest Slayers - on its roof. "Why don't I feel as if we've won a victory?" He sighed.

"Because you didn't grow up on a Hellmouth." Xander answered.

"It was a rhetorical question." He frowned at the younger man

"Thats what people say when they don't like the answers to their questions." Xander grinned, then grew serious. "The butcher's bill is not as bad as I feared at first. We lost Molly, Chloé, Amanda and Annabelle. Mary and Anya are wounded, but seem stable."

"No wounded among the Slayers?" Rick asked.

"Nothing that won't be healed in a day or so. "Shannon is the worst off."

Rick noded. Most of the dead but Annabelle he hadn't really known, and Annabelle he only remembered well because she had been a bit of a fan, and had talked a few times with him.

"We'll have to leave though. The house can't be held against another attack, and we need to get the wounded to a hospital." Xander continued.

"Outside Sunnydale." Rick assumed.

"Yes." Xander kicked a pebble away, then looked at the crater in the middle of the road. "We can get the cars over that, with a bit of Slayer elbow grease, planks and Willow's magic. Then one group goes to the hospital, the rest goes and get the scythe from whatever monster is guarding it."

"Sounds like a good plan." Rick didn't know why Xander was running it past him - he was the outsider here.

"You look a bit banged up as well." Ah, that was the reason.

He didn't quite look at Xander. "I am fine. My shoulder was fixed, it hurts a bit still, but it won't slow me down." Much.

"Someone has to protect them, in case some bringers track them down." Xander wasn't giving up.

"Shannon can do that better than I can. And she can get her wounds looked at there too. It's not as if I have missed the Slayers' tendencies to claim they are fine despite evidence to the contrary." Rick countered. "Besides, I'd rather not go with my ex-wife. She's really cranky when she's wounded."

"Worse than PMS?"

"Yes."

Xander winced, then left. Rick heard him call for Buffy and Dawn. By any rights, Rick should be helping out, doing something. But that had been the biggest, most dangerous battle he had ever seen, or taken part in. He probably was shell-shocked. Or something like it. He'd have to use such a scene in his next book too. Without the bombs though.

If he survived, of course. At least Mary would be safe, relatively. Alexis wouldn't be an orphan. Although she might wish she was, if Martha couldn't keep Mary in check.

*****​

Two hours later, Rick was reconsidering his decision to stay. He was hiding behind in a bush behind a ditch, facing an old mansion. Sturdy walls, lots of spots to hide and ambush people. "Is it just me, or does this scene look familiar? We're missing our own army of expendable demon suicide bombers though."

Buffy, Faith and Xander laughed. None of the minis did. Rupert muttered something. Rick shook his head. "Seriously, what are the odds it'll be as trapped as our house was, or more?"

"If it's a trap, it'll be one for our enemy." Buffy stated, cradling her M60. Rick had to admit that she was getting a bit too attached to that. But he wouldn't be as stupid as to mention it. Only a fool would try to get between a Slayer and her weapon, so that was clearly up to Xander.

"We don't need to get inside. We just need to get the scythe, which is somewhere below the mansion." Willow explained. Again. The Slayers were quite a bloodthirsty bunch though, and wanted to storm the mansion and massacre everything inside with their bare hands.

"It's an axe, not a scythe." Buffy stated, not for the first time. "I know an axe when I see it, even in a dream."

"It's referred to as a scythe in the old texts. Its actual name is 'mʔ'," Rupert corrected his Slayer.

"We don't have to storm the place at all. We keep it bottled up and go underground to get the scythe, even if we have to dig it out." Xander cut in.

"Axe."

"Mʔ."

Rick rubbed his temple. Compared to the headache listening to the bickering was causing, the pain from his bruises and shoulder was nothing. His family would never believe him that he was the most responsible man left in Sunnydale. "We don't even know if there is anyone in there. Isn't the scythe protected from evil or so?" He ignored Buffy's "Axe!" as everyone else did.

"Well, theoretically, but the presence of the Hellmouth might have weakened those enough for demons to reside nearby." Rupert polished his glasses.

"We could wait until it's dark, and then send in Spike as a scout." Xander proposed.

"Oh, really, Xander? I'll go take a look myself!" Buffy rolled her eyes at her friend, then went up and started towards the mansion in a crouch.

Xander cursed, then turned to the rest. "Stay here, I'll cover her." Both soon reached the building, and disappeared inside.

Rick and the others waited for ten tense minutes, until Buffy appeared again, waving. "It's empty!" she yelled.

"That could be the First," Willow looked at the blonde with narrowed eyes. "I don't see Xander."

"What do we do now?"

"I don't know. We can't just shoot her, if it's Buffy, she'll be hurt."

It turned out that waiting until Buffy got annoyed enough to come down to the waiting group was enough to solve the problem. Getting touched by everyone didn't improve her mood though. Xander, joining her, was pretty much tackled by a few minis, but he seemed to enjoy that. At least he joked as if he did.

But with the threat of a trap removed, the scythe/axe/mʔ-recovery mission could continue, more or less smoothly. Faith and a bunch of minis set up a perimeter, as Xander called it, around the mansion, the rest went down into the sewers and other tunnels beneath the mansion. Somewhere down there, in a veritable maze, was the relic they sought.

Rick would be going down with them, since he was not quite as good a shot with a rifle as any Slayer, mini or not, and couldn't fire a minimi as if it was a machine pistol either. It wasn't a very comforting reason for his male ego, but at least Mary'd be jealous when he'd tell her of the mission.

*****​

"Relax, Buffy - I know those tunnels like the back of my hand. Used them to get around during daylight all the time, back before I got chipped." Spike sounded as confident as before the first dead end he had led them to.

"Couldn't they have fixed you at the same time?" Xander snarled.

"Watch it, soldier boy!" The vampire turned and bared his teeth at the young man.

"If you two don't shut up and get on with the recovering, I'll fix both of you! With a spoon!" Buffy growled at them until they relented, and focused on the mission again. Rick personally doubted anyone had still an idea where they were, but the group was already tense enough, he'd rather not make it worse.

"It's in this direction!" Willow pointed at a wall, a glowing crystal in her other hand.

Buffy went ahead and knocked on the wall. "It sounds a bit more hollow than the last one." She beamed at Spike, who groaned while he stepped up, pickaxe in hand.

"Why it's always the vampire who has to do the menial labor? I am not the only supernaturally strong being here, you know!" he complained.

"You're the only male supernaturally strong being though," Buffy explained. "Therefore, it's your duty to do the menial work. Besides, dust would ruin my pants."

Faced with everyone nodding in agreement, Spike grumbled, and started to tear the wall down. It took him a while, but finally, a room was revealed. As soon as he caught a glimpse, Rick gasped: "Shut the front door! They actually did the sword in the stone routine? What's this, Excalibur 2.0?" Rick stared at the weapon half-buried in a block of stone. "If I would use that gimmick in a novel, my critics would crucify me!"

"It's not a sword, it's an axe!" Buffy huffed at him, then stepped forward.

"The mʔ actually predates the Arthurian legends by a few millennia at least." Rupert had to stress the name, of course.

Buffy huffed again, then grabbed the heft of the thing, and pulled. The weapon came free as if it was just resting on the stone block, and she lifted it above her head with an enraptured smile. Glancing around, Rick noticed that all the minis with them shared the expression. He had thought they liked weapons before, but this was a whole new level of worship...

Buffy closed her eyes, shivering, then took a deep breath before looking at the group. "The First won't know what hit it when I strike the bitch down with this!"

Rick wished he had worn ear protection after the minis stopped shouting their agreement. The noise level in the small cave was deafening.

*****​

About an hour and three disagreements about the right path later, the group had found their way back to the surface.

"Hi guys! We're back with the axe!" Buffy yelled, presenting it to the rest of the Slayers. Again they seemed enraptured, but once they recovered, they stared at Rick with a very odd, and quite scary expression. Especially Faith, who marched straight towards him.

"Don't move!" she growled

Rick froze. "Yes, ma'am! Ow!"

The rogue Slayer - or former rogue Slayer - grabbed his arm, squeezing. "You're not the First."

"No, I am not. Could you let go now? It's a tad painful." Rick winced.

"You're not dead either."

"I think I'd have noticed that. What is going on?"

Faith dragged more than led him to a body covered with a blanket. That was when Rick noticed the signs of a firefight all around him - and a few dozen dead Bringers. He forgot about the demons though when Faith kicked the blanket away and he was staring at a face that looked like his. Well, apart from the bullet holes in it. And he wasn't missing the back of his head either. And he certainly would never be caught dead with such a horrible hairstyle. And the nose was not right, or so he thought. Jaw's a bit too strong, maybe.

Still… "First the sword in the stone, now the evil twin… isn't there any cliché the First won't be using?"

"It's the First Evil, what did you expect? Respect of intellectual property?" Xander, like everyone else, was staring at the dead man, who had apparently been the leader of the bringers, as well as supernaturally tough, according to Faith. Not tough enough to survive in the crossfire of half a dozen machine guns though.

"I'd have expected a bit more class, at least!" Rick shook his head. "I can't use that in my novels either!"

And everyone was looking at him with a weird expression again.
 
Sunnydale, February 2003
Sunnydale, February 2003

"For the last time, the First cannot create physical doppelgangers! If it could, it wouldn't have chosen such a dorky haircut, and even worse clothes for me!" Rick Castle was getting a tad annoyed at the glances he still was getting. Honestly!

"It's not that. Everyone's just wondering how you'll write us in your next book." Buffy explained.

"Huh?" Castle hadn't thought the blonde Slayer had ever read any of his books. Dawn had been teasing her about her lack of 'readage' for days after his arrival.

"Yes! It's a big worry for us. What if your descriptions are unflattering? What if my lines are dorky?"

To his horror, Castle saw a lot of the Slayers around him nod. "We're facing the First Evil, and you worry about your portrayal in a novel that has yet to be written, and where I will be changing so many things that it'll be unrecognizable anyway?" He wasn't sure he'd closed his mouth after finishing.

"Exactly! What if the readers think we'd be wearing outdated outfits, or the wrong kind of shoes?"

Castle was pretty sure right then that the world was doomed.

*****​

It had taken a dozen slayers and Spike several hours to break through all the concrete covering the Seal of Danzalthar. Xander had managed to hold out for an hour before commenting how proud he was of his work. At which point he had been drafted into helping out as well by a disgruntled Buffy. Rick, smarter, more handsome and more experienced with women, had wisely not said anything, and therefore was spared the physical labor.

The plan to end the first was quite simple. A 'Buffy-plan', as Xander put it, but he hadn't come up with anything better than 'open the seal, go down, kill everything until the First shows, kill it with the axe, done!'.

They had added a bit to it, though. The Slayers would go down, but the rest would be ready to help, and guard their back. Willow with her magic, Xander, Rick, Rupert and Spike with more mundane weapons. Simple, if not for Dawn, who had driven back to Sunnydale with Shannon after the latter had checked herself out of the hospital. The resulting screaming row between the Summers sisters had resulted in Castle thanking god that Alexis was an only child. Now they had a sixteen year old girl to guard as well. And a principal to watch - Wood hadn't left, and Rick didn't entirely trust the man. Anyone would have agreed to a truce when faced with over a dozen Slayers. They could have waited for more Slayers to arrive, but the group had decided to strike before the First recovered its army of demons. They'd find out soon if that had been the right decision.

The die was cast now. The seal uncovered. One by one, the Slayers slashed their lower arms, and let their blood drop on the seal. Now that was a scene Rick could use in a book! On second thought, he'd better not use it - telling people how to unseal a Hellmouth was not a smart idea.

With a creaking noise, the seal broke up, crumbling as the earth split, revealing the very mouth of hell. Castle shivered at the sight. There was a small, narrow path spiraling down - or up, from Hell's perspective.

"No tentacles. Let's go!" Buffy ordered, and the Slayers climbed down into hell. They looked grim, but also excited. Looking forward to do battle.

Once the last girl had disappeared from view, Rick walked up and peered down. Below him, the Slayers were still climbing down, but he could make out a bright, flickering spot in the center. "Now I can claim to have seen hell!" he explained when he turned back to the group. A few chuckled. Mary would have scolded him. Another thing he had over her.

"And now comes the worst part: The waiting!" Xander declared, and sat down. Rick was just about to join him, when Dawn came rushing in. When had the girl split anyway? "Bringers! Bringers are attacking!" She yelled.

Rick glared at Xander: "That's your fault!"

"How?" The other man was already on halfway to the stairs.

"You claimed waiting would be worst!" Rick readjusted the Ack Pack on his back and followed him, with Spike at his side. "Don't let Dawn get away again!" the author yelled back at Rupert and Willow. "Buffy will kill us all if that happens!"

"I knew attending school would be the death of me one day!" Rick muttered when he saw a dozen demons climb over the remains of the main entrance.

"Technically, we're trespassing, not attending!" Xander snarked, then started shooting. One Bringer was hit in the head, and it fell down, causing two more to stumble. Rick set all three on fire.

"You two are long-lost siblings, aren't you?" Spike snarled at them. "Watch the flames instead of cracking jokes! I don't fancy getting barbecued!" The vampire leapt ahead, decapitating one bringer with a blow of his axe and disemboweling another with the backstroke.

More demons were coming though, and not just from the front. "We have to fall back or we'll get flanked!" Xander yelled, and Spike disengaged, just in time to avoid getting cut off. Rick torched the first group following them, and the next, while they retreated further. Or fell back, as Xander called it.

Rick was about to torch the next group when the ceiling above him came down, followed by a bringer. Weighed down with the flamethrower on his back, he didn't manage to move out of the way in time.

*****​

When he came to, he was not where he remembered falling down. It looked like a hallway. Next to him lay Spike, or what was left of him. Only the fact the vampire hadn't turned to dust told Castle that he was still alive… undead… whatever. He wasn't conscious though. There was no sign of Xander, but someone had to have dragged or carried them to this spot, and laid them out so Rick wouldn't choke on his own tongue. Whoever had done it had gotten their weapons too, and placed them next to them.

Rolling over, Rick yelled in pain - his leg, the same that was already bruised all over, was bent in a way legs shouldn't be. He wouldn't be going anywhere for a while, so he grabbed the nozzle of his Ack Pack and hoped that there was still fuel inside it - he didn't remember how many shots he had fired already. Maybe he should better hope that no enemy came near them.

He probably had a concussion as well, now that he thought of it. Contrary to Martha's slander, he wasn't usually quite that scatter-brained.

He couldn't hear any sounds of fighting, and the hallway wasn't on fire, so … did that mean they had won? Or was the apocalypse delayed due to a scheduling mixup? He chuckled at his own attempt at a joke. Definitely a concussion. That meant he shouldn't fall asleep. Hard to anyway, with how much pain he was in. So, a broken leg was a good thing… that explained the 'break a leg' saying, at last!

He chuckled again, then stopped when he heard footsteps coming closer. Gripping his flamethrower, he tensed. Closer. Closer. Turning the corner…

It was the principal, looking slightly battered himself. "Hello Mister Wood. Sorry for loitering in your school, but I find myself unable to leave." He nodded at the man, lowering the nozzle. "What happened? Did we win?"

"The school's still standing, the Slayers are still in hell, but the Bringers have been destroyed and the seal is safe. Mister Harris is 'securing a transport' as he put it, which means he's stealing a school bus, and I am patrolling the hallways, just in case we missed a demon."

Rick smiled, relieved. "Everyone safe so far then? Good." Then he noticed the stake in the man's hand, and his smile froze on his face. "Well, you can see, this hallway's in safe hands. No demons to destroy here. You can go check the locker rooms now."

"I beg to differ, Mister Castle." Wood smiled. "There's one demon left to destroy. A demon that has destroyed my family."

"Didn't we get over that? He's one of the good guys now. Besides, killing him when he fought on our side, and got almost killed for it… that'd make you the text-book backstabbing douchebag. You don't want to be that kind of man, Wood." Rick lifted the nozzle and aimed it at the Principal.

"Figures you'd come when I can't defend myself, Wood. Your mum'd be ashamed." Spike apparently had regained consciousness some time ago, and was, as usual, not helping his own cause. At all. At least Wood was ignoring him, focusing on Rick. Or his flamethrower. It was hard to tell, even without a concussion.

"I know you, Mister Castle. Or is that Mister Rodgers? You've been a Watcher for a decade. As a chronicler, you know what this monster has done. It killed my mother!" Wood almost yelled the last sentence.

"That was the First talking, you know that. It wasn't your mother!" Rick wondered how often the First had appeared to Wood.

"That doesn't matter. I know he murdered her. The filthy vampire is even wearing her cloak as a trophy!"

"Told you, you can get her cloak back, if you want, Wood! S'not much of it left now, though." Spike mumbled, still not helping.

Rick met Wood's eyes. "I won't let you kill him. Not now, not like this."

"You cannot stop me without killing me, not in your condition. Would you truly kill a man trying to avenge his mother, a Slayer, for this beast? For a monster who has killed tens of thousands?" Wood took a step closer to Spike. "I don't think so."

"Wood, stop it!" Rick tracked him with the nozzle.

"No." Wood shook his head.

Rick pulled the trigger.

*****​

"First the sword in the stone. Then the evil twin. And now the evil lair crumbling for no structural reason? God damn you!" Castle cursed!

"Told you, First Evil!" Xander commented. "No imagination at all!"

"No wonder it was killed by a blonde then." Castle hoped Buffy hadn't heard that. He was still blaming his concussion, of course.

For two wounded men who had been carried by a bunch of girls to the dubious safety of a school bus driven by a sixteen year old girl who hadn't gotten her license yet, Xander and himself were holding up well, or so Castle thought. He still had a concussion, after all. That was probably the reason why he was not freaking out at the fact that they were just barely outrunning the giant sinkhole Sunnydale was turning into. He could see the street disappear into the growing hole just a few yards behind them. The street, and all the houses on it. It looked like the Hellmouth was closing up for good this time.

At least he could use that for his next novel.
 
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The Hamptons, March 2003
The Hamptons, March 2003

"... and then he came in, soaked to the bone, and said 'Mom! The fish are trying to escape!'"

Sitting in the salon, Richard Castle tried to ignore the giggling and laughter from the living room. He wasn't having much success, not with his deepest, dirtiest secrets being revealed next door. And listening to the banter was better than dwelling on the dead. Like Wood.

Still, in hindsight, inviting the whole 'Scoobie Gang" and all Slayers to the Hamptons after their victory over the First Evil had been a mistake. The Hamptons weren't exactly a great place to be in Winter or early Spring.

On the other hand, his house was big, so even without a beach to go to swim, not everyone was crowding Castle while his broken leg was healing. Not everyone, just the scoobies. Which by now seemed to include Spike as well. Which was kind of a drawback. Maybe he should have looked into renting a house for a few of his guests. Or for himself.

Then again, Mary was still in the hospital, and so was the capitalist viking raider from hell. Which meant that Xander was mostly absent from Castle's house, splitting his time between checking up on the two "Slayer houses" and the hospital. So, no one tried to outsnark him. Apart from his mother, of course.

Which was the main reason inviting his comrades in arms might not have been his best idea to date. Martha Rodgers meeting the Summers sisters was an event best observed from a distance. Not up close, and unable to run away due to his crutches.

He heard the door open and turned his head. "Alexis! How's your mother doing?"

Castle's daughter winced as she came up to him.

"That well? Maybe I should have left her in L.A…." Rick commented, then opened his arms.

His little girl huffed, but sat down in his lap and hugged him. "Dad! You shouldn't joke about that. It's a miracle neither of you died!"

"One day when you're older, I'll tell you all about it, and you'll see that it wasn't a miracle, but careful planning and me being awesome." Rick was still hoping that the scoobies would have a positive effect on Alexis, who was sometimes far too serious for her age, but so far she had proven to be rather resistant to the insanity-inducing antics of the gang.

"Or I can go and ask Spike. He doesn't think I am a little girl."

Rick gaped at her. "Alexis!"

She giggled. "Just kidding, Dad. He said he won't tell me until I am old enough either."

Rick pondered if he could lock the vampire up in his basement for the rest of their stay. For some reason, Spike had taken Castle 'burning Wood - do you get it?' to save him as a sign that they were the best of friends, and extended that to his family. And Alexis, for all the lessons she had received, was fascinated by the vampire. Joy. At least Mary would be more upset about this development than Castle was. "Alexis! I know you are very mature for your age, but some things you are not ready for. Stories from Spike about his time in Sunnydale, New York, well, anywhere, are some of those things. There's a reason everyone tells him to shut up whenever he starts."

"I thought that was because most of them are embarrassing for the rest of the gang." Alexis answered in that innocent tone of hers that Rick had taken years to see through.

"That's true as well. The scoobies are a lively bunch." And insane most of the time.

"Oh, yes. Dawn told me all about how insanity runs in her family." Alexis nodded, sagely. "Spike babysat her, did you know?"

That explained a lot. Maybe Castle should worry about more bad influences than just Spike. And hope Rupert would straighten out the Council's affairs in London soon so the Slayers could relocate to London. Or to Cleveland, to guard the Hellmouth there. Rick really should have been suspicious when his British Colleague had decided to head straight back instead of recuperating some time on Long Island. "Of course I know, honey."

"Good. We're going shopping tomorrow. Buffy said I need a more fashionable wardrobe. Dawn said Buffy's usually a blonde, but knows her fashion and shopping. It'll be fun!" His darling little angel beamed at him, and Castle had a sudden and terrifying vision of Alexis wearing the kind of clothes he had seen in Sunnydale.

"Ah… I'll better come with you then. You'll need adult supervision."

Alexis frowned at him and shook her head. "No, no, Dad. You need your rest, everyone said so. Besides, we'll be with the Slayer - how much more adult supervision would we need? We'll be totally safe!"

With the Slayer and her supernatural senses in the next room, Castle couldn't tell her how wrong she was. "Ok, Honey," he smiled weakly. "Just consider your mother's opinion too, before you buy anything."

"Oh, I will, dad! Just as you always told me: If mum is against it, wear it! Or do it!"

Rick should have known that those words would one day come back to haunt him.
 
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New York, November 2003
New York, November 2003

For a demon bar, 'Clark's' looked almost normal from the outside. Only the bouncer's size - over 7 feet hunched over - hinted at the true nature of the bar. Richard Castle drove his BMW Z3 Roadster - James Bond's Car! - past the entrance and parked a street away.

"Should be fun." Vi, Violet O'Malley, said, closing the passenger door and checking her weapons.

"They might have heard of the changes already, and not make a fuss." Castle grabbed his own weapons. He wished Willow would figure out a way to shrink his flame thrower, but he had to make do with a compact shotgun and a short sword. Highlander had lied to him - a coat was not enough to hide a longer sword. Not when you wanted to move in it.

Vi, New York's resident Slayer as of two weeks ago, pouted. As all of the minis - not that anyone other than Faith and Xander was calling them that anymore - she was almost always looking forward to fighting or hunting. Rick, now the official Watcher for New York and environs, sighed. "Remember, we're here for information about the bone marrow murders. Not to bust heads."

"Yes." Vi's sullen answer left no doubt that she would take any excuse to start a fight. Well, putting the fear of the Slayer into the local demon population would be a good thing.

"Cheer up. One way or another, you'll get to stomp some demon butt tonight." Rick patted her back while they walked over to the bar entrance.

"That's not the kind of bar for you." The bouncer tried to bar their way.

Rick rolled his eyes. Sure, he didn't look or feel particularly dangerous, but Vi was spoiling for a fight, and even he could see the predator in the girl. He glanced at her and nodded. Five seconds later, the bouncer was down for the count, and the wall would need some repairs.

The Slayer and Watcher entered, and like in a cheap Western, the bar fell silent. Rick smiled with more confidence than he felt - but not that much more. After Sunnydale, normal, non-hellmouthy demons, as Buffy would say, kind of tended to be less impressive. "Good evening, gentlemen. I am the resident Watcher, and this is the resident Slayer. She's spoiling for a fight, and the big lug outside didn't really last long enough to satisfy her, so don't make her mad."

Vi giggled. He really should check his speeches for double-entendres before making them. But the demons probably thought she was giggling at them. Rick didn't spot any Lei-Ach Demons among the guests, so, with Vi at his back, he strode towards the bar. One Ano-Movic demon even jumped up from his seat and scrambled away when they got too close to him. It felt good.

The bartender, a Loose-Skinned demon, trembled slightly, but didn't make any threatening movement. Vi had to look like their worst nightmare, Rick thought. He leaned on the bartop, and gave him his best Clint Eastwoody - he really needed to watch his language, California was contagious - smile. "A couple of dead people have been found, with the marrow of their bones missing. You know something about that?"

The demon shook his head, the folds of skin shaking and wobbling. "No, I keep to my bar. I don't know anything about bones."

"Are you sure? You haven't seen or heard of any Lei-Ach Demon recently? Or know someone who has? The longer we stay inside, the more likely my pretty partner here will go to town on your guests. She's been a bit bored, since Sunnydale." Rick kept smiling as the bartender started to tremble and his eyes went over to a table in the corner. Rick followed the gaze, and spotted three demons, one of them a Brachen demon, the two others Fyarls.

Vi was already moving towards them, a feral grin on her face. The Brachen ducked under the table and the two Fyarls charged her, roaring what was either a challenge or an obscenity in their language.

While his Slayer easily demolished the two demons, Castle kept an eye out for anyone else wanting to be a punching bag. No one did. He slapped a twenty on the bartop and nodded at the bartender. "For the damages."

Rick was tempted to order a drink too, but he knew what kind of things demons ate, and he'd rather not discover that that extended to drinks as well. Besides, Vi was already throttling the Brachen demon.

"I've got an address and a name." Vi smiled at him, wiping some blood from her gloves.

Rick nodded at her, then smiled at the remaining guests. "Thank you for your cooperation."

Vi rolled her eyes at him. The girl had no respect for her Watcher - that had been a classic line!
 
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New York, September 2008
New York, September 2008

"Rupert, I am very grateful for the offer, but it would be a waste of time - your valuable time, seeing as you're the Head of the Watchers Council - to proofread 'Facing the Old One'. I've got editors for that." Richard Castle rolled his eyes while he listened to his friend on the phone. "And yes, before you ask, they are Americans, but they do speak proper English, and not Californian."

"I would say that proper English and American is a contradiction in terms," Rupert said, and Castle laughed at the ribbing, "but I was more concerned with the possible risk of revealing information our enemies could use against us."

"Rupert, trust me: I've written books based on true accounts for a long time now. You've seen my books yourself. I am quite certain that I haven't left any sensitive information in a recognizable form." The novel was set in medieval times, to start, and the tactics carefully changed from effective to dramatic.

"Still, it would be no bother…" The English Watcher wasn't giving up easily.

"Ask him about the outfits Branda wears!" Buffy's voice could be heard through the phone.

Castle rubbed his forehead. "Loremaster Randolph and Vampire Hunter Branda are very loosely based on existing people, and all my test readers love them!" he stated, more than a bit testily. "Oh, I've got a visitor, so I have to cut this call short. Terribly sorry, and all that." He hung up. If they knew that his test readers expected a romance because of 'all the sexual tension between Ran and Bran', they would probably take the next flight to New York...

"Hi Castle!" Violet 'Vi' O'Malley sauntered into his office, making a show out of peering at the various vampire hunting paraphernalia mounted on the walls or presented in display cases, before hanging her denim jacket on the closest sword hilt.

"Hello Vi. What's up on the slaying front?" Castle placed his smartphone back in his pocket.

"The usual." Vi made a dismissive gesture. "Did you add a new stake to your collection?"

"I see that my subtle way of asking when your report for the Central Park incident will be finished needs some work," Rick stated dryly.

The redhead had the grace to blush a bit. "You'll have it this evening." She sat down on his desk, crossing her jeans-clad legs and picked up the silver cross serving as a paperweight to fiddle with it.

Castle raised his eyebrows at her, waiting for her to say or ask what she actually had come into his office for. He knew she was stalling - Rick had come to know his Slayer very well over the years. Vi was part of his family, actually, almost like another daughter, and hadn't some papers speculated about that!

The redhead - one of three important and at times infuriating redheads in his life, four if he'd count Mary - nibbled on her lower lip and avoided his eyes. It couldn't be love trouble; she talked about that stuff with Alexis and Martha. And she wouldn't be hesitating to talk about Slayer business, so… Castle groaned and closed his eyes. "Not another discussion about Victoria, please!"

"But Rick! Everyone will know she's based on me. She has to look great in the book, or the others will think I disappointed you!"

"She's got red hair, and is a girl. She could be based on anyone, even Alexis!" Rick responded.

"You've based a character on me? Dad, how could you!"

Rick looked up and saw Alexis standing in the door. "Err…"

"You said you didn't use your family as models when I asked!" Martha added, coming up behind her granddaughter.

Castle covered his face with his hands. He simply couldn't win in this household.
 
New York, March 2009
New York, March 2009

As far as parties went, it was a good one. Lots of fans, lots of pretty female fans, a few members of the press, good catering, and themed waitressing staff. The launch of the latest 'Vampire Hunter' book, 'Facing the Old One', was off to a good start.

Richard Castle was glad and relieved - writing that book, based on the events in Sunnydale, had taken him years, in between other novels, and that hadn't (just) been because every Slayer and scoobie involved in that desperate struggle had tried to 'help' him write it. No, writing had been difficult because of all the memories it brought up. Killing Bringers, seeing Slayers die, facing the First Evil, burning Wood alive… none of his books had been inspired by events he had been involved in before this.

But it was done now. Over. He had even gotten some sort of closure out of it. Or so he hoped. He passed a group of fans reading the books they had just bought, grabbed a drink from a passing waitress wearing fake and sexy leather armor, and joined his family at the bar for a bit of a break from mingling.

"Hi Dad!" Alexis beamed at him, and raised her drink at him. A soft drink, of course - Alexis was still the most mature and responsible of his now extended family.

"Hello kiddo," Martha greeted him, but kept checking the dwindling stacks of 'Facing the Old One'. "Sales are great, at least here. There are no critics out yet."

Vi just waved, keeping an eye on the room. The Slayer was relishing the opportunity to wear weapons openly without anyone making a fuss, even if her clothes were closer to what Faith usually wore than what the medieval 'Vampire Hunters' were supposed to don before battle. Rick still hoped Alexis wouldn't take clues from her 'big sister' when it came to clothes.

"You know we've got crosses all over, and holy water in half the soda bottles. The odds of any demon sneaking in are almost nil," Castle shook his head, bemused, as he ordered a drink for himself. There were no 'vampire themed' snacks or drinks, of course. His fans knew what kind of demons vampires were, and didn't pine for them. Or shouldn't. And Vampire Hunter Branda wouldn't be seducing or getting seduced by any undead either.

"I'm just staying in character," Vi growled, then stuck her tongue out at him.

"If you were you'd be wearing the leather outfit of Victoria." Castle corrected her.

"Nope. I'd not be able to weather all the 'Victoria's Secret' jokes." Vi glared at him.

Castle assumed she had her suspicions about who exactly had thought of that particular idea. So he simply nodded, and took a sip from his drink to cover the pause.

"So, signed many chests today?" Vi asked, a bit too casually.

"Did you make a bet on that again? And are you trying to cheat, again?" Rick narrowed his eyes.

"Maybe…" Vi suddenly tensed, then whispered. "One o'clock, brunette, tall. She's carrying and asking for you."

Castle followed his Slayer's subtle nod, and spotted the woman. Striking, tall, body… rivaling a Slayer's, stylish but sensible clothes, apart from the high heels, would be hell to fight in them for anyone but a Slayer, and she had an attitude about her…

"Bet she's a demon," Vi muttered next to him.

"Wouldn't you have sensed that?" Rick shot back, and then the woman had reached them. Him.

"Richard Castle?"

"In the flesh. How can I help you?" Castle used his most charming smile on her. Next to him, Vi shifted a bit, not quite flanking the woman.

The brunette dug into her jacket, and Castle tensed up too. Until he was staring at a badge. "I am Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD. I need to ask you a few questions about a murder."

*****​

Castle stared at the pictures. It wasn't the blood, or the gore, but the set up. The runes, and the altar. And the body.

"Do you recognize the scene, Mister Castle?" Detective Beckett's voice stayed professional.

"The sacrifice from 'Warlock'. Someone actually recreated the scene," Castle answered. His mind was racing. Was this a delusional individual, or something more? Could the demon he had taken his inspiration from have survived the Slayer in the 16th century, or was this a cult trying to bring him back? But why would they use his carefully made-up ceremony, instead of the original? Maybe they hadn't access to the real grimoire, and were trying for sympathetic magic?

"Yes. Someone is very fanatic about your work. Do you have any fans who seem obsessed with that particular book?"

"My publisher screens my fan mail before it reaches me. I am rather sure that a letter from whoever is deranged enough to commit such a crime would be sorted out." And passed on to him and the Council.

"We'll have to go over the mail then, Mister Castle."

"Oh, of course. I'll call the publisher." He looked up at her. "Can I keep the pictures? The ones without the body, I mean. It's like… well, as disturbing as it is, it would make a great conversation piece. Someone actually took my novels seriously." He needed the pictures to start his own investigation.

"No, Mister Castle. That's evidence." It wasn't his best line - it was late, or early, and he was a bit drunk, but still, he didn't think he deserved quite that glare. Not from such a striking woman.

"Oh. Can I leave now? My family must be getting anxious." He tried to appear innocent and tired. Just a harmless, if eccentric author.

"Aren't they used to that, by now? You've got quite a history with law enforcement." The detective flipped through a file.

"No convictions!" Rick said, reflexively. And it wasn't that much - the Council didn't have to pull him out of that kind of trouble more than half a dozen times, since Sunnydale.

"Sometimes together with your 'friend' who is cosplaying as a 'vampire hunter' in the wrong century," Detective Beckett continued.

"I've told her she should have been wearing Victoria's outfit," Castle grinned. Vi hadn't taken his not quite arrest well. And the cops hadn't taken her attitude well. Nor the fact that her swords and other blades were real.

"I think the details of your love life are not relevant to the case at hand, Mister Castle." Beckett's voice could have frozen a lake in summer.

"Love life? Oh, no, not that kind of Victoria. Victoria is a character in my latest book, a vampire hunter in training. Vi and I aren't in a relationship." Maybe starting that joke hadn't been a good idea at all.

"She's just been living across your own apartment, since she moved to New York six years ago." The detective didn't seem to believe him.

"She's a friend of the family." Castle sounded a bit too defensive. There hadn't been anything between him and Vi, even though they joked about it at times. He prefered his women a bit less able to crush his ribs and hips by mistake.

"Of course." No, she didn't believe him at all. He was just too handsome, he assumed, for the detective to think a girl could resist him.

"I am not as bad as my reputation makes me out to be, Detective."

She didn't answer that, just held open the door of the interrogation room with a cooly raised eyebrow and the kind of glare that made any man feel like a dog. Women!

He had to get her number.
 
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New York, March 2009
New York, March 2009

"Does that mean Dawn's no longer your number one fan? She never staged a murder using one of your novels as a script..."

Richard Castle glared at Vi, but without any effect. "I could send Victoria into a convent in the next book, you know. Or show her as a fat, dumpy grandmother nagging her family…"

"I'll be good!" Vi jumped off his desk, where she had been fiddling with his notes, and stood at attention, for about half a second, before slouching over again, and pulling one of her throwing knives out of the sheath to flip it around. For a Slayer, this was as close as they ever got to standing still outside an ambush. "But honestly? Someone killing people with a ritual you made up explicitly so it wouldn't work? That sounds fishy."

"It's 'smells fishy'," Castle corrected his Slayer while going over his notes again. "I called London, so they can look into the records of the mission I used as inspiration. But anyone trying to resurrect that particular demon warlock would know about the real rituals."

"Do you think it's simply a crazy murderer then?"

"Even if it makes me sound bad, I certainly hope this is just a mundane case with some New Age dressing." Castle sighed. "We can't tell without the case files though. I asked Willow to hack into it, but she's busy fixing a ritual gone wrong among her students."

"We could steal them. Breaking into the precinct shouldn't be too hard." Vi sounded eager.

"Absolutely not! I am not explaining to London why my Slayer needs to be bailed out of prison, again!"

"That's your job as my Watcher!" Vi pouted, but she was no match for Dawn and Buffy's puppy dog eyes, and Castle had managed to resist those… after a number of failures.

"My job is to prevent you from getting arrested in the first place!" Rick glared at her again.

"Well, it's not my fault if you're so bad at it that I would get arrested in a simple breaking and entering mission." Vi smirked, and Castle sputtered.

"Convent and fat." He spat out.

"That's petty! You should focus your efforts on teaching me how to break into places without getting caught." Vi tried her puppy dog eyes again.

"And enabling you? Rupert would have my hide! Besides, one Slayer with a criminal history is enough, thank you very much, and you get into trouble far too often. I should ask Alexis to teach you about responsible use of your powers." Castle stated.

"I'll corrupt her to the true path of the scoobies one of those days." Vi dismissed the threat.

"More seriously, I'll call the Mayor. I'll offer to assist with the investigation. Once I am at the Precinct, I'll see if I can find out more about the case." Castle sighed.

"Oh… so you getting caught spying is OK, but when I do it, it's bad?" The redhead pouted again.

"It's the getting caught part you need to work on. Specifically, the not getting caught part." Castle smirked. "As a famous author, and officially assisting with the case, I'll have a bit more leeway than you."

"I bet that detective doesn't give you even an inch of leeway."

"We shall see, my dear Slayer. The Castle charm is not to be underestimated." Rick grinned.

"Oh, I'll see, indeed. You don't think I'll let you go alone, do you?" Vi looked at him with a decent copy of Willow's resolve face.

Castle sighed again. Sometimes - a lot of times, actually - his Slayer was a bit too protective, or nosy. At least she'd be handy if things turned dangerous.

*****​

Captain Montgomery was a very understanding man, Castle found. Understanding when it came to the Mayor's wishes. Getting official permission to assist the case was a breeze.

Trying to get a copy of the photos? Not so much. Vi had, vexingly, been right - Detective Beckett was a hard-ass. And very focused. Castle was currently stuck reading his own fan mail. A task he had hired people to do since he didn't want to deal with it in the first place. The irony was thick enough to stake it.

Even more vexing was that Vi was currently hanging out near the coffee maker and flirting with the two other detectives in Beckett's team. If she managed to find out more about the case than Castle, he'd never hear the end of it.

"Oh here's a delusional one," Beckett spoke up suddenly. "A Miss Meyers thanks you for saving her life by warning her of vampires. Without your 'arcane knowledge of the occult', she claims she would have invited a vampire into her home." She looked at Castle. "If the victim had been staked instead of gotten her heart cut out, I'd classify this as a suspect - she sounds delusional enough to hunt vampires."

"Many of my fans have a rich but healthy imagination. And taking a few precautions, just in case vampires are real, doesn't hurt anyone." Castle responded, slightly peeved.

"Delusions are not a good thing. The victim might have found that out the hard way, Mister Castle."

"Was she a fan as well?"

"No. We haven't found any of your books in her dorm. But Billy-May Penderton, aspiring art student and hobby wiccan, had a lot of occult and New Age books. None of them correspond with any of the fictional grimoires mentioned in 'Warlock' though," Beckett explained.

"Wow, you seem to know my book very well. Or do you keep a Castle Expert at hand?" Castle grinned when a slight twitch indicated that he might have been on the mark. "Can I see the list? I am a bit of a scholar when it comes to occult books, and some of them might give us a clue," Castle asked. "I mean 'us' in a strictly professional sense, of course. Not in a personal sense. Though I am open for that meaning too, of course." He flashed his best roguish smile at the detective. It wasn't good enough. He did get the list though. All new age fakes though.

"Beckett! IT's cracked the vic's computer. Guess what? She was very active on Wiccan boards, and she received a number of threats for her stance on magic and the supernatural," detective Ryan interrupted them.

Beckett stood up and followed her colleague to his computer. Castle threw down the latest letter he had been reading and followed.

"Quite the flame war. Those people take their fantasies very seriously," Ryan commented.

"Hopefully not deadly seriously," Castle quipped. Beckett rolled her eyes at him, and he pouted "Though crowd."

"Check this out: Our vic's been in a flame war with dozens of people, and half of them warned her that she'll die one day if she doesn't take vampires or magic seriously." Riyan looked at Beckett. "Sounds like a list of suspects to me."

Castle mentally agreed - a number of those posters had very suspicious handles. 'WillowTheWitch', 'SummerDawnPatrol', 'ViForVictory', 'Rrrrrona'... even for a Wiccan forum who attracted the real deal as well, this was a bit much.

"Look at that one! He sounds like a psychopath who thinks he is a real vampire! Tries to tell her they are all monsters, and then uses 'actual examples from my past'."

Castle took a look, and recoiled. 'BillyIdolStoleMyLook'? Who let Spike on a computer? And wait a minute… 'ACastleinNewYork'? Alexis? He glared at Vi because she was the only one of the usual suspects who was around right now. She sent him a confused look. He'd tell and yell at her later.

"Make a list of the flamers, but I think this is a more promising lead." Becket pointed at the PM folder of the victim's account. It was full of messages from and for a 'Damian'.

"That name alone is grounds for an arrest. It's one of the signs of an evil god." Castle stated.

"And the other signs would be?" Ryan asked while Beckett glared at them both.

"According to an expert I know, they are 'cheap and slutty red dresses, a skanky attitude that causes insanity in anyone who gets too close, and a skull more dense than uranium. Also, the most extreme case of a blonde bipolar personality'," Castle quoted Buffy's list.

Ryan laughed. "That sounds like someone's ex."

Castle laughed with him - it did fit Gina somewhat - but a glare from detective Beckett stopped both. "Touchy," he whispered. "Is she always this serious?"

Ryan nodded, but appeared to be focusing on the computer again.

"My condolences," Castle joked, though his eyes tracked the detective's rear while she walked over to the IT section, to get them to find the identity of this 'Damian'.

Vi was still talking with the other detective, Esposito. Castle wasn't sure what would be worse - the two of them hooking up, and him having to deal with a broken-hearted Slayer in a few weeks when the macho ego Vi found so attractive couldn't handle a girlfriend who was stronger than any man, or Vi having more luck at getting information from her detective than he from his. If only Perlmutter wasn't on vacation.

*****​

"So, this 'Damian', real name 'Sam Smith', promises the poor impressionable proto-wiccan that he can 'unlock her arcane potential'. They agree on a meeting, and that's the last time she was seen alive. Is it just me, or does that look very suspicious?" Castle asked while sitting in detective Beckett's car on their way to Smith's flat. "And, without wanting to impose on you, or disparage your very nice, solid, sensible, and so on, car: If you'd taken my offer of giving you a ride in my Roadster, we'd already have arrived."

Becket glared at him. "He's a suspect. It doesn't mean he's the murderer."

"He could be another victim, missing his heart - he never had a brain to begin with, I think - lying dead in a gutter, or sewer." Castle speculated.

"Next you'll claim he was killed by a Polgara demon."

"Oh, no! Wounds from a polgara demon look totally different than those. And such a demon would have eaten the body - they need to eat every two hours, so they usually are not able to remain under the radar." Castle told her, as seriously as he could.

She stared at him until he laughed, then shook her head. "Just keep in mind that we're hunting a real murderer, not a fictional character, Mister Castle. There's no mystical 'Vampire Hunter' here to come to your rescue either."

"Oh, I fully trust you to keep me safe, detective." Castle smiled winningly at her. "Especially since you are such a fan of my works to know so many details!" Vi was following them in his car anyway. Just in case the detective was wrong.

"Contrary to others, Mister Castle, I am perfectly able to separate fantasy and reality." Beckett flashed him a brief but slightly sultry smile. He was sure she was warming up to him. This would be a very interesting investigation, he could tell. And the case was interesting too.
 
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New York, March 2009
New York, March 2009

"Why was your car following us?" Detective Beckett asked Richard Castle as they stopped in front of Smith's house.

"Just in case I need to leave in a rush. I wouldn't want to inconvenience you by asking for a ride, Detective," Rick answered. He couldn't very well tell her that Vi might be needed to deal with a supernatural threat, should 'Damian' turn out to be more than a deluded human. He really wished he could have taken his flamethrower with him.

"You use your barely legal girlfriend as your personal driver?" Beckett asked with scorn poking out behind her professional tone.

"She's not my girlfriend," Castle countered. "And she's 23 years old."

Beckett gave him a look he was quite familiar with.

"She's not my illegitimate daughter either," he answered, "despite what some rags claim. She's a friend of the family, and works as my bodyguard at times."

"And as your driver, obviously." She stressed 'driver' as he had heard others stress 'personal assistant' when talking about a rich man's mistress.

"Yes." It was obvious that their cover story needed a bit more work - at least if he wanted to have any chance to date intelligent women. Like Beckett. And not women who didn't notice when his family made fun of them in their presence.

She raised her eyebrows at him, pursed her lips and turned to enter the house. Rick huffed, then followed her.

The worst thing was that Vi wouldn't even take offense at being mistaken for his girlfriend, a poor impressionable young woman seduced by the rich, older man. She'd consider it an amusing joke. Unless someone implied that she was after his money. That could turn ugly quite quickly.

*****​

"Dear Lord!" Richard hadn't seen that many occult books and trinkets in a while, at least outside the libraries of his colleagues.

Beckett turned towards him. "You don't usually sound that British."

"The sight took me back to the years I spent in London, working in a private library. I tried therapy to deal with it, but some scars linger," he answered, sighing dramatically. "You should hear my daughter talk - she spent half her life there." And she used a deliberately strong British upper class accent when she was scolding him. Mary loved it, of course.

"My heart is bleeding for you. Studying abroad must have been a very difficult trial." Beckett turned away and started to search the room.

"No, that was my first ex-wife." He studied the books. Those on the shelves were the kind of crap emo kids would spend a lot of money for.

"Ah. It looks like 'Damian' bought more than books and crystals," Beckett pulled out a drawer, revealing a collection of blades. "Red velvet. He went all out for those sacrificial daggers."

Rick peered at them, then scoffed. "Those are useless trinkets. Dull blades for posers. Barely more useful than a spoon when you want to cut out a heart."

"Really? Are you an expert for ritual murder?" Beckett was staring at him.

"I researched the matter extensively for my books," Rick explained. He wasn't sure she bought it. "I pride myself on getting the details right." Or rather, just the right kind of wrong.

"That's such an important part of writing stories about supernaturally empowered and endowed women battling demons." The detective wasn't quite mocking him, but she came close.

"Oh, believe me, I had to make my heroines supernaturally attractive for my own safety," Rick said seriously.

"What?" Beckett stared at him, her mouth open in an expression of disbelief.

He shouldn't be doing this, it was stupid to tease her like that, but he couldn't resist. "Well, if there were actual supernaturally empowered demon hunting women around, they'd take offense if I described their literary versions as dumpy or ugly, and I'd end up ripped limb from limb." Or at least lose one limb he really didn't want to lose. Faith could be very expressive when making demands.

Beckett rolled her eyes again, then pointed at the empty but slightly dented space in the drawer. "In any case, one knife is missing. If that's the murder weapon, then it couldn't have been as useless as you claim."

Rick was staring at a picture at the wall, showing a gaunt, tall pale young man in a cloak brandishing a blade, "That's because if my guess is right, the missing knife is the one on this picture." He pointed at it.

"That's a rather plain looking knife. Not quite as fancy as the blades in the drawer." Beckett stated.

"The really lethal things usually are not fancy, but practical." He let his gaze wander over her jacket, turtleneck and jeans, then linger on her high heels before staring into her - very pretty - eyes again. "But often with just the right amount of stylish but impractical touch-ups."

Her lips thinned, but she didn't take the bait. But he thought she had shown the tiniest blush. Maybe. If he squinted.

He went on: "Like the obsidian grip there on the picture, with the Aztec runes on it." The grip might even have been carved from the blade of an actual Aztec sacrificial knife. And that would be very bad news.

He looked around while Beckett studied the picture. A mop of red hair was visible outside the window, Vi was showing off again, hanging upside down from the roof. He pointed at the ground. Vi grinned in response, and pulled up.

When Beckett and Castle were leaving the house, the slayer was leaning against the Z3 and smiling innocently at them.

*****​

"What did London say?" Castle whispered into his smartphone while watching Beckett, Ryan and Esposito gather for a coffee break in the bullpen.

"The runes on the grip are Aztec soul traps. They were used to capture demons in exorcism rituals." Vi reported. "The obsidian was used as a sacrificial blade in those rituals."

"So… our murder suspect could have a knife with a grip made from a demon's prison." Another clue that this was not a simple mundane murder.

"Yes."

"But why the ritual? That wouldn't do anything. How do you release such a captured demon?"

"Willow said the blood matters. Nothing else. Bathe the stone in the blood of five humans and the seal breaks."

"Damn. Why can't those priests never create demon prisms that are impossible to break? No pride in their work, I guess." Rick hated it when magic was simple and deadly. It was far more difficult to stop a ritual that wouldn't blow up in a cult's face if a candle was slightly out of alignment. "Run the list of receipts I mailed you, and check if there are some actual spellbooks among them anyway."

"Will do. Don't pant too much after the sexy detective, Rick! She might arrest you for sexual harassment."

"Hush you!" He wasn't that bad!

Vi ended the call with a giggle. Did everyone in his family have to make fun of his love life?

He was still frowning when he went for a coffee, and the detectives must have noticed.

"Love trouble?" Beckett asked.

"No. I had Vi check a book in my office. If the runes on the knife in the picture are any indication, then the guy could be following an Aztec myth. In that case, he might try to kill four more people to bath the knife in their blood." Rick explained while getting another coffee. He winced - that couldn't be called coffee with a good conscience. It was to coffee what teabags were to real tea. Or American beer to Czech.

"You gave out pictures from a crime scene to your 'driver'?" Beckett sounded livid.

Before Rick could answer, Captain Montgomery shouted from his office. "Beckett! Esposito! Ryan! They found another victim. Sacrificed like the first!"

*****​

The girl was laid out on a slab of concrete, still bound with ropes from Walmart. She was missing her heart. The medical examiner, Lanie, was already on the job. Castle didn't disturb her. He didn't have to.

"Are you taking pictures?" Beckett asked, walking up to him. She wasn't about to let the matter with the runes slide, it seemed.

"Not of the corpse. I am geotagging the location." Rick explained.

The woman blinked, then he eyes widened. "Like in 'The Seal of Five'? You think he's trying to paint a pentagram over New York with the blood of his victims?" She was sharp. And she knew his books very well.

"A pentagram is one of the most common symbols used in occult rites. If this is the second point, then we can find the next three, and cover the areas." His app had already done the work, and he showed it to her.

She plucked his phone out of his hand, stared at it, then turned and headed towards the other detectives without giving it back.

"Hey!" He went after her. "I need that! I can mail you the data and map!" He didn't try to take it back by force though, and so remained out of luck, and out a phone.

"We've got an ID on the victim. Mary Simpson. Went missing last night, together with her friend, Claire Thompson." Ryan announced when the two reached them.

"Damn. He has his third victim already…"

Castle and Beckett exchanged alarmed looks. She opened her mouth to say something, but Castle was faster.

"This time we take my car!"
 
New York, March 2009
New York, March 2009

"I should arrest your driver!"

Richard Castle turned away from the fountain he was studying to face detective Beckett. "Why?"

"She must have broken every traffic law on the books to arrive here that fast."

"That's just the result of good German engineering," Rick answered. And Slayer reflexes behind the wheel, and plain madness. It said disturbing things about his own mental health that he let Vi drive at all.

"Tell me another one! And why didn't you follow me, instead of rushing ahead? We're talking about a dangerous killer here!" Beckett glared at him. "I should arrest you for your own good."

"But you won't, since you need me." Castle smiled at her. If she tried to arrest him, Vi would intervene,and that would be bad. Or, worse, she'd let the detective arrest him to keep both of them safe. Vi sometimes had peculiar ideas about the proper relationship between a Watcher and his Slayer. All Buffy's fault, of course. Sometimes Castle wondered if Rupert really had been knocked out that often by demons, or if Buffy had taken a hands-on approach to make sure he'd stay safely out of a battle.

"I would not call it 'need'. Your obnoxious attitude is close to outweighing your limited usefulness." Her glare had grown more intense. Under that professional mask the detective was a very passionate woman.

"You wound me, detective!" He put a hand on his chest.

"Not yet." And that was a smile Faith would be proud of. Not that he'd never compare Faith to a cop where either could hear him.

"I didn't find any sign of the murderer," Vi's arrival interrupted both. She hadn't sensed any demon then. That was 'not of the good', as Buffy would say.

The detective had her gun drawn before she realized it was Vi who had snuck up on them. Castle was used to 'Slayer stealth', as he called it. Beckett didn't comment on it though, but she glared at the redhead while she reholstered her gun. Vi smirked at her, totally ignoring his gestures behind the detective's back to cut the attitude. Slayers!

"I don't get it. This is the next point of the pentagram. If he's painting a pentagram in blood, like in my novel, he'd have to come here." Castle didn't want to know what would happen if the man had started to randomly pick murder locations.

"Patrols are at the other locations. They haven't found anything there either." Beckett stated after a brief check with her team - on her own phone, at last. "You can draw a pentagram two ways from the same point."

"Yeah, but the other version has the third point in the middle of the Hudson River." Castle wasn't quite letting his annoyance show. He had considered that. "I doubt he's going scuba diving with his victim. Makes it hard to use the blood...." he trailed off when he realized just where the alternate point was.

"The tunnel!" Both he and Beckett exclaimed at the same time. After a brief, startled pause, both of them were rushing towards the parked cars.

"See you in the tunnel, detective Beckett!" Castle yelled, opening the passenger door of his Z3. Vi, of course, was already seated and had started the engine.

"No you don't!" Beckett answered and, to Castle's great surprise, slipped in after him, onto his lap. "You're not leaving me behind."

Vi stared at her, then at Castle, clearly waiting for his decision.

He had a pretty girl in his lap and a demon-possessed murderer to catch. There was only one answer. "Hit it, Vi!"

And they were off.

*****​

Reality had crushed another fantasy of Rick. Well, not exactly crushed, but he had thought a drive at high speed with a pretty girl in his lap would have been a bit more exciting. At least Beckett had stopped screaming after the third time Vi had taken an unorthodox shortcut. And she had calmed down somewhat when Vi stopped the car in front of the tunnel's maintenance access. Calmed down enough at least to not threaten to shoot the redhead anymore. He still had to push her out of the car and his lap, but she managed to stand, which made her tougher than most Watchers who let a Slayer drive a high-performance car for the first time.

"That… that… you're a menace! A danger to society! You almost killed us a dozen times, and I lost count of how many people you endangered!" Beckett shouted, and Castle had the impression she was reconsidering not shooting Vi.

Vi was ignoring her and already opening the access door to the maintenance tunnel.

"Do I want to know why she has a key to this door?" Becket seemed to find getting ignored even more vexing than almost getting killed in traffic.

"The municipality cut corners. They only have about a dozen different keys for those doors." Castle answered. And he and Vi had copies of all of them. They needed them - New York might not have been built with underground routes for vampires and other demons in mind, but there were so many tunnels and sewers, both new and abandoned, it hardly made a difference. Granted, in a pinch, Vi could simply break those doors open. Or kick them open. That usually surprised demons. And on two occasion, had taken them out when the door hit them. But keys left less traces and were more convenient. Especially for a ruggedly handsome Watcher who couldn't kick a metal door open.

"That doesn't answer my question." Beckett complained, but she was rushing after Vi, who was sprinting ahead.

Castle followed. Without the Ack Pack - that would have been impossible to explain to the detective - he was faster than usual, and could keep up with the detective. She made a fetching sight, running in high heels through the cramped maintenance tunnel. Obviously fit. Dedicated. Smart. About to face a demon as a normal human. Granted, she didn't know that, but he had a feeling that if she knew, she'd still run as fast, or faster, towards danger.

They heard a scream ahead. A girl - not Vi, of course - in mortal terror. The scream went on, she didn't get cut off. That was a good sign, usually, for last second rescues.

Beckett pulled ahead, and Castle grit his teeth - briefly, he needed his mouth wide open to breath. He should start running in the morning. Or go to the gym more often. It was a nice place to meet women too, although…

Beckett entered a larger room, ahead of him. "NYPD, you're under arrest!"

Castle reached the room as well, and was relieved at what he saw. Vi was beating 'Damian' around. The man looked crazy, and seemed tougher than a normal human had any right to be, and was wielding that knife with the obsidian grip, but Vi had it under control.

"NYPD! You're under arrest. Miss, get away, I cannot shoot if you're so close!" Beckett was moving around, trying to get a clear line of fire. Vi ignored her commands, the murderer did the same, and Castle went for the victim, who fortunately seemed unhurt.

She had stopped screaming too, but was still crying. "It's ok, we're here to save you, Miss Thompson." He knelt down next to her, pulled out his bowie knife and started to saw through the rope that kept the girl fastened to a rusting pushcart.

"Castle! Tell her to get away from him!" Beckett yelled at him, but he ignored her as well. As if Vi would listen to him just to let the cop steal her 'kill'.

His Slayer was taking her time, he could tell - or downplaying her abilities because of the detective's presence. The redhead didn't knock the possessed - probably - man out until Castle had freed the kidnapped girl and covered her with his jacket.

Beckett knelt on the man and handcuffed him one handed, gun pressed to his head. It was quite impressive, even counting the fact that the guy was unconscious. Castle had a sudden vision of Beckett handcuffing a Fyarl demon for attempted murder, and couldn't help snickering at the absurdity of the thought. On the other hand, was it really that absurd?

"Do you find this amusing, Mister Castle?" Beckett was in his face, livid. "Your 'driver' is lucky not to have been wounded or even killed fighting a deranged and armed murderer. Why didn't you call her back? This is not some novel of yours!"

If he told her the Slayer wouldn't listen to him and had likely been showing off to her, and showing her up at the same time since Slayers just were like that, she'd probably explode. So he lied: "I was focused on saving the girl, sorry." He smiled his best 'I am innocent, really' smile at her.

It didn't work. "So you and your girlfriend wanted to play hero!" She snarled at him. "This is not some cosplay con!" He'd not have thought she was familiar with that particular scene.

At least he served as a distraction so Vi could remove the obsidian part containing the demon's soul from the knife behind the detective's back.

"Now that you mention it, that would make a good scene in a book." He grinned. She was about to explode when he continued. "You'd make a good character too. Suitably altered of course."

"What?" She blinked, gaping at him. "Suitably altered?"

"Oh, yes. A smart, sassy and stubborn detective investigating paranormal crimes! I might start a new series, even. 'Vampire Hunter' in an Urban Fantasy setting. It has been very popular lately." And probably responsible for a fair number of deaths of girls thinking bloodsuckers were romantic. "I'll skip the almost obligatory love triangle with the vampire and werewolf, though - you don't seem to be the type to play with two men at the same time."

She opened her mouth to say something, then shook her head. "I will not even deign that with an answer. I'll head out to call my team. Do not move from here, or I'll arrest you both!"

He grinned at her retreating back, until he caught Vi's expression. His Slayer was frowning at him. "What?"

"You're not making her a 'Vampire Hunter', right?" Vi seemed oddly concerned.

"No. I am thinking of a normal human detective." He wouldn't have to make Beckett superhuman to make her interesting, he knew that. A woman like her, in the police? There was more than one story to be found. Or spun.

"Good! Then I call dibs on the 'Hunter' part!" Vi grinned.

"What 'Hunter part'?"

"You can't fight evil without a 'Superhuman hot chick'!" Vi was quoting Faith. Drunk Faith. "Of course there'll be a 'Vampire Hunter' part. A redheaded, beautiful, smart and stylish 'Vampire Hunter'!"

Dear Lord, she was serious.

*****​

Obsidian dissolving in a magical mixture of herbs and holy water was a fascinating sight. Castle stared at it as it sizzled and hissed in his ceramic bowl.

"You won't be seeing a green shade escape it, dad. Willow was quite clear about it." Alexis had joined him in his study.

"Have you been listening to my calls again?" He frowned at her.

"Of course not. I asked her." Alexis answered, all falsely accused innocence.

"And she told you?"

"Of course. She knows who's the most dependable person in this Scoobie Unit." Alexis nodded with an expression that clearly stated she was carrying a heavy burden.

"We're not a 'Scoobie Unit'. We're a Watcher and a Slayer." And his daughter wasn't part of that.

"And me. Watcher in training." His daughter beamed at him.

"You… what… no. No." She wouldn't. London wouldn't... who was he kidding? Mary would be overjoyed. And the scoobies wouldn't really object too much to someone following in their footsteps. And Alexis would do that. Damn.

"So, did you get a date with the hot detective?"

"Don't change the topic! And no, I didn't ask." Yet. He'd have to let her cool off a bit more.

"So, you asking the Mayor to get assigned as a consultant to her precinct so you can 'research for your next book' is a purely professional decision?" Alexis smirked at him.

"Yes." It would allow him to study cases that might have supernatural ties as well. A win-win-win situation. Unless the detective shot him. Down, he meant.

"Don't forget, if you're interested in her, you have to run her by me and Gran first. And probably Vi too. You promised."

"That was eight years ago! And I didn't promise anything! And you didn't say anything about my last girlfriends."

"Bimbos don't count," Alexis scoffed. "So, when will you invite her over?"

"When she doesn't feel hostile to me anymore. Vi didn't make too positive an impression, and I got the blame."

"So, never then. And I had so hoped for a smart stepmother," Alexis shook her head in mock sorrow, but Rick couldn't tell if she was actually sad, or relieved. Or a bit of both.

He only knew he'd see detective Kate Beckett again.
 
New York, April 2009
New York, April 2009

"You know, if I was an insecure man, I'd suspect you were not happy to see me," Richard Castle commented while testing the chair he had nicked near detective Beckett's desk.

"If you were a bit more perceptive, and less narcissistic, you'd know that I'm not happy about the fact that some rich Fantasy author gets to follow me around, hindering my work, just because the Mayor's a fan!" Beckett glared at him.

He cringed a bit - the woman was armed, after all - but he rallied quickly. "In my experience, an outside view, an open mind, some unorthodox theories, often greatly benefit any organization." Like the Watchers Council, for example. Even if Mary and Rupert both tended to complain that they had a bit too many 'open minds' at times, with the Scoobies in charge.

"I will be grateful for your presence the next time we have to arrest a vampire, Mister Castle." Her smile was condescendingly sweet and false.

"Please - only a fool would arrest a vampire. Those undead demons need to be staked at once!" he declared. With the possible exception of one or two souled vampires. "You should know that, after reading my books."

She rolled her eyes, then grabbed the pen he was twirling around his fingers and put it back in the small cup on her desk. She probably liked her desk as she liked her life, neat and orderly, Castle thought. "Why are you here? It's not to 'gain inspiration for a new series' as you claim. You write Fantasy, not crime mysteries. All you are doing is distracting me from my work."

"Oh, I'm distracting you?" he perked up. "But you're wrong!" He noticed her lips purse. She didn't like to be told she was wrong, she probably loathed to actually be proven wrong. "I am looking for inspiration for my new series, which will be centered on a modern cop dealing with supernatural crime. And vampires."

She blinked. "Are you serious?"

"Deadly serious." For a second, he let the experienced watcher shine through the facade of the humble author. Let her see the stare of a man who had fought the First Evil and lived to tell and write the tale.

Since she rolled her eyes in response, she probably had missed all that. He really had to work on it. It was so much easier to put in writing. He smiled his most ruggedly charming smile at her instead. "You intrigue me, Detective. I can see you handling vampires, booking Brachen Demons and shooting Polgara Demons."

"You've got a very vivid imagination, Mister Castle."

"Oh, yes." His smile widened, and she frowned again.

A whistle from Esposito drew their attention to the elevator area, and Castle winced. Vi had arrived, and she had 'dressed to impress' - but a biker gang, not cops. The redhead was wearing black leather jacket and pants, matching boots, and a low-cut top that left her midriff bare. He just knew she had done that to make a statement, but he didn't exactly know which. Probably part of the rivalry with Beckett she assumed to exist. Slayers!

"What's your girlfriend doing here? Other than making a spectacle?" Apparently, that rivalry wasn't just Vi's imagination, judging by the icy tone of the detective.

"She's not my girlfriend," Castle answered automatically. "And I suppose she brought me the keys to my new car." He pointed at the keys Vi was juggling as she made her way towards them in the most provocative manner she could manage. "Must have been taking lessons from Faith," Rick whispered, too low for anyone but Vi to hear. His Slayer grinned in response.

"New car? What happened to the Z3?" Ryan asked. Probably to keep himself from staring and looking foolish, like his partner.

"Nothing. But it only has two seat, and I can't expect the good detective to sit in my lap for every ride. It's illegal, after all." Rick quipped, and instantly regretted it.

"You sat on his lap, Beckett?" Ryan stared at the woman, who was fuming at Castle.

"It was an emergency. We had to race to save the third victim of Smith, remember?" Beckett explained to her two colleagues, while shooting Castle a death glare. "And if anyone brings this up again, they'll live to regret it for a long time."

Rick and the two detectives nodded in unison. Vi giggled, and tossed him the keys. "Here, Rick. It handles like a dream."

"What did you buy?" Esposito asked, still staring at Vi, or rather, at her body.

"Ford Shelby GT500KR. I wanted a practical car for police work." Rick explained. It had been rather cheap too.

"I don't want to know what you'd consider an impractical car," Beckett commented, while the two detectives whistled again. She sent them a glare, which shut them up at once. "Don't get your hopes up, boys. She's his 'driver'." Castle glared at her for the insinuation, but she ignored it.

"You can drive me anywhere, anytime!" Esposito declared, smiling at the redhead.

"You won't say that after you've gotten a ride with her." Beckett dryly commented.

"That sounds dirty, Beckett." Esposito answered, but cringed when she narrowed her eyes at him.

"In any case, you've brought him the keys to his new toy… have a nice day, Miss Driver." Beckett smiled at Vi, then pointedly looked at the exit.

Vi smiled back, and Castle was reminded of a few of the 'disputes' between Slayers he had seen. It was more a baring of teeth. "I'm not just Rick's driver, I'm also his bodyguard. So you won't have to worry about keeping him safe and can focus on solving your case."

Rick wished she hadn't put that emphasis on 'body'. At least she wasn't leaning against him as if she was marking her territory. She had done that a few times, wrecking possible relationships. He was certain she had been cahoots with the other two redheads in his life in those cases, but no one had ever admitted it.

"A bodyguard? You?" Beckett had stood up and was staring at the slightly smaller - even without heels - Slayer.

"Yes, me," Vi smiled, impudently. "Don't worry, if needed, I'll protect you too."

No one reacted to Esposito's muttered 'you can protect me anytime' while the two women stared at each other. Castle had to fight the urge to take cover.

"I doubt that Castle will be swarmed with rabid fans during one of our investigations, so I don't think your services will be needed." Beckett stated.

"I am ready for any threat," Vi answered, patting her jacket.

"I am certain the detective can keep me safe," Castle threw in, but he was ignored as Becket raised an eyebrow,

"Are you armed?" Beckett tensed up.

"Yes." Vi's expression would have graced every NRA poster about 'cold dead fingers' if anyone had made a picture right then. "I've got licenses for all my weapons, of course."

"All your weapons?" Beckett's lips formed a very thin line now.

"The rest is in the car." Vi blithely - or not so blithely - explained.

"Mister Castle! It's one thing to have an author following us around, getting into our way. It's another thing to have his armed girlfriend shooting us or others by mistake when she tries to play hero again! This is not acceptable!"

"She's not my girlfriend," Castle answered. Why didn't anyone believe him?

"I'm a better shot than anyone else here." Vi stated, with narrowed eyes. She was growing angry, Rick knew. Slayers usually got as testy when people doubted their skills as when someone tried to take their weapons, and this was shaping up to become a perfect storm. Worse than Faith's last visit to the LAPD, and there was still wild speculation about that incident on conspiracy theory forums.

"I am sure you are," Beckett's voice dripped with so much sarcasm, Castle was tempted to check if there was a puddle on the floor.

"Wanna bet? I'll outshoot you and the two stooges, and you'll shut up about me possibly endangering you. I don't, and Castle has to brave the dangers of New York alone." Vi grinned.

Castle groaned. That was the most stupid thing he had heard since Spike offering to babysit Alexis. No one sane would agree to that kind of bet.

"You're on."

Maybe he had overestimated Beckett's sanity. Or underestimated her pride.

*****​

The range in the basement of the 12th Precinct was nothing fancy. A few lanes with targets that could be moved to various distances. Knowing Vi, Castle donned ear protection at once. Fortunately, the detectives followed suit. He had to glare at Vi before she grabbed ear protectors as well.

"Now…" Beckett trailed off when Vi started to walk past every lane, sending the targets back with the remote. Castle sighed, knowing what was coming. He blamed Faith, for introducing the girls to that stunt, under the pretext of winning free drinks in bets.

"Time!" Vi called, standing in the lane in the middle.

"Go!" Castle said, hitting the stopwatch app on his phone.

It was remarkable how close to an automatic weapon a pistol sounded when fired by a Slayer as fast as she could pull the trigger.

"Three seconds."

"You were too slow to click, Rick!"

Eight targets, each hit in the middle of the head, and in the heart area. Each shot placed in the exact same spot. At least she hadn't shot at the groin area, this time. The cops were staring. At the target, at Vi, then at Castle.

"She grew up in a family where shooting was the only hobby allowed?" Castle smiled weakly while Vi walked out. "And she's not my girlfriend!" he added.

Not that anyone would listen to him. Not the cops, not his family, not his Slayer. Story of his life.
 
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New York, April 2009
New York, April 2009

The mood in the bullpen was tense. At least where Beckett and Castle sat. The mood in the break area, where Vi was shamelessly flirting with Ryan and Esposito, who seemed to have forgotten her calling them 'stooges', wasn't tense. But Castle couldn't help feeling that the spectacle was directly contributing to Beckett's worsening mood. And that made him fear for his own safety, since he was getting blamed for his Slayer's actions. Unfairly, of course.

He was just steeling himself to risk life and limb, or at least his remaining chances with the detective, to make a bit of conversation, her phone rang. She listened, then yelled to the break area. "Ryan! Esposito! Stop hitting on Castle's girlfriend, and get moving. We've got a case!"

"She's not my girlfriend," Castle complained, following Beckett to the elevator. "Wouldn't you think I'd show some reaction to her flirting with your colleagues if that was the case?"

The detective cocked her head at him. "Some people like showing off their trophies. Yachts, girls, cars."

Castle didn't answer. He had wanted a Mustang for years, and it was a practical car. Compared to his Z3.

A faint grin showed Beckett had noticed his reaction. They rode the elevator down in silence.

He followed Beckett to her car. When she shot him another look, he explained. "It's not an emergency, is it?"

"Does that mean your 'bodyguard' will be joining us as well?"

"Unless she wants to ride with your colleagues." Castle smiled, but stopped when he noticed her expression. He didn't know if Beckett thought Vi riding with the two male detectives was worse than the Slayer riding in her car, but it was rather clear that she thought Vi coming along at all was bad enough.

"So… what's the case about?" Castle asked.

"Mrs. Jennifer Farwright was found dead in her office. Stuffed into her safe." Beckett explained while leaving the pond.

Castle winced. "That must have been a big safe."

"Probably."

*****​

It hadn't been a big safe. Not at all. Just a medium-sized safe mounted in a wall. Castle whistled at the gory sight, which didn't seem to impress the cops on the scene. Or detective Beckett. "Wow. How much force do you need to stuff a human into that?"

"A lot more than a human can exert, without the help of hydraulics or other tools." Perlmutter explained, poking the gory mess with a probe.

"How do you even find the liver in there?" Castle wondered.

"With great experience." the medical Examiner answered.

"Perlmutter, this is Richard Castle. A friend of the mayor who's 'consulting' with us," Becket introduced Rick.

"We've met before."

That surprised Beckett.

"He's a friend of my mother." Castle explained. Technically correct, but the tone he used put another spin on the meaning. Which had been correct as well, in the past. Beckett shut up, but raised her eyebrows at Perlmutter's back.

"If we were in one of my novels, I'd suspect a troll. But they would have eaten the victim. A Fyarl Demon would have been strong enough as well." Castle crouched down, carefully avoiding the pool of drying blood. There were no marks on the floor - not from claws, not from any kind of machinery that would have been strong enough to turn a human being into canned meat.

"Castle, be serious! This is a real crime, not a fantasy!" Beckett hissed at him.

"Hm. The liver's missing," Perlmutter stated.

"A troll with a taste for liver?" Castle speculated. That earned him another glare.

"I've not found any sign of non-human tissue or hair so far," Perlmutter answered in his driest tone. Beckett briefly smiled upon hearing it. She stopped as soon as she saw Vi poking around the door to the room.

"No sign of a struggle," Castle added, hoping to draw the detective's attention away from the snooping Slayer.

"She might have been killed elsewhere, and then carried to this spot." Beckett crouched down as well. "If she's missing the liver, then someone took care not to leave any blood trail."

"Or cleaned up." Castle saw Vi sniff the door.

"That's harder than the TV portrays it. And takes a long time. Time the killer didn't have." Beckett stood up. "According to the maid, Mrs. Farwright sent her to buy groceries, since she expected her niece to visit. The maid took one hour, and when she came back, she found the victim."

"Door's untouched. No one broke in. Windows are closed as well, and show no sign of tampering. Odds are, the killer knew her." Ryan stated. "The maid's story checks out according to the logs from the register at the shop, and the cameras in the street. But the security camera doesn't show any visitor."

"Maybe the killer entered earlier, and hid until the maid left?" Castle proposed. The others didn't look convinced, but no one dismissed it as impossible. He was making progress!

"Ryan, Esposito, check with the neighbours. I … and Castle… will talk to the niece." Beckett didn't mention Vi, who was still poking around - though not touching anything, so the detective couldn't yell at her. Which was annoying her, Rick suspected. Not surprisingly - Vi had a talent for bending the rules just this side of breaking them.

When they left, he let Beckett pull ahead a bit, and sent a questioning glance at his Slayer.

"I thought I smelled some Fyarl snot, but I couldn't find it. Nor did I smell blood anywhere apart from the safe," she whispered.

That sounded like magic. Castle wasn't liking this case anymore. Witches were bad news, Willow's opinions notwithstanding.

*****​

According to the files Ryan had pulled up and sent to Beckett, Miss Janet Farwright was a pretty girl currently attending a private college - not quite Ivy league, though. She wasn't living at home, nor in a dorm, but in a small flat near the campus, popular among the students from richer families. "Hm… her parents recently moved out of their house, into a rented flat. Money troubles?" Castle commented.

"Probably. And the girl is making nice with the still rich aunt," Beckett said while driving past the campus.

"And maybe going a step further. Maybe because she's now the sole heir to the fortune, maybe because the aunt has seen through her act, and if she dies, the parents will inherit. Making her rich again," Castle speculated.

"Inheritance laws are a bit different in New York than in medieval Europe." Beckett chided him. Vi, sprawled out on the backseat, chuckled. Traitor.

He pouted at the detective. "Believe me, I am quite familiar with inheritance laws." As a Watcher, he had had to prepare for the possibility of his sudden and violent death years ago.

They stopped in front of a well-preserved but old building. A brief glance told Castle that the flowerpots on the balconies probably hadn't grown flowers in a while, but vegetables instead, herbs - or weed.

They passed a bunch of college students on the way, and Vi's attire caused two of them to almost fall down the stairs when the stared a bit too long. Castle shook his head, Vi giggled and even Beckett seemed to smile.

Janet Farwright opened the door, red eyes and tears visible on her face. "Y-Yes?"

"Detective Becket, NYPD. Miss Farwright, we need to ask you a few questions about your aunt."

While Beckett questioned the girl - who had an alibi ready; she had been with her friend, also present, who looked more than a bit stoned - Castle and Vi snooped around. There were lots of environment activist materials - flyers, posters, brochures - but no pagan symbols hanging around, no leather tomes on the shelves, nor cauldrons boiling. But the cupboard had some interesting herbs. And a freshly washed mortar.

"Lethe's bramble?" Castle asked quietly, after a glance back to make sure the girl wasn't watching.

Vi sniffed the mortar. "Yes."

*****​

"What do you think? That alibi looks a bit thin," Castle ventured forth back in the car.

"It's thin. That boyfriend was too addled to tell the time, much less that precisely. He was coached," Beckett stated. "He'll spill in an interrogation."

Castle wasn't so certain. Magical mind control could do a lot of things. It wasn't all-powerful though. It wouldn't have let the girl control the victim enough to get the money. Not without breaking.

"But we still don't have any positive evidence," Beckett continued.

Back at the Precinct, that didn't change. But they found out that the security cameras had stopped recording for an hour - without logging the interruption. If it had been janet, then this had murder had been planned, Castle thought.

On the other hand, Janet had received a scholarship grant, allowing her to continue her studies. Esposito had found that out from Janet's parents. They also mentioned that their daughter and the victim had a falling out over a development project the victim had financed. Janet hadn't mentioned that.

"Killing for a few trees? That seems quite drastic," as the detective put it.

"And even if that was the motive, how was it done? How did the victim end up in the safe, mangled like that?" Beckett asked. "She'd had to have help. And that kind of help usually isn't easy to get for a college kid."

Castle exchanged a glance with Vi. He could think of a few possible suspects for the kind of help she might have gotten. And where the liver was now.

It was time to visit 'Clark's'.
 
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New York, April 2009
New York, April 2009

The patrons of 'Clark's' tensed up when Violet O'Malley and Rick Castle entered, but no one tried to run or attack them. The bouncers didn't even react to them anymore, other than some slight twitching when Vi stared at them for too long. Brinner, the owner of the demon bar, had really cleaned up his act over the years. And it had only taken half a dozen thrashings from Vi, two demonstrations of the Ack Pack, and one visit by Faith and Buffy. But after his bar had been rebuilt twice, and his regulars decimated three times, he had finally come around to the new Council's way of thinking. The demonic bartender still had some disreputable clients, but they were the questionable rather than stake-on-sight kind. Some people simply took a bit longer to learn the facts of life, Castle guessed. And to decorate a bar so it didn't look like a crime against humanity.

Brinner even had become a useful contact. Within limits. He wasn't exactly a fountain of information, but Vi didn't have to literally shake him down anymore to get some directions to troublesome demons. He still refused to let Castle attend the Kitten Poker evenings.

Castle leaned on the bar, keeping an eye on the regulars, while Vi went through the usual motions, threatening the Loose-Skinned Demon in creative ways.

"And if you don't get helpful right now, I'll stuff you into a laundry machine and wash you until you skin has shrunk to fit your size! Got that, Brinner?"

It was an act, to let Brinner claim he was forced to help the Slayer. The smarter demons among his patrons understood that it would stop being an act in a heartbeat if it was needed, but occasionally, some newcomers tried to intervene, and Vi and RIck had to show them why you didn't fuck with the Slayer in New York. Or anywhere else.

"Br'gek said he had some liver… well, I overheard him ask around if anyone was interested…"

"And who is that creep, what is he, and where can I find his soon to be slain hide?"

The way a Loose-Skinned Demon's folds flapped around when he was shaken like a ragdoll was a fascinating and disgusting sight.

*****​

"Why can't those demons live in nicer, cleaner spaces?" Vi complained, staring a smudge of… something… on her boot.

"Because New York is a very expensive area, and they can't scrape enough money together for a deposit that covers damage from visiting Slayers," Rick answered as the two made their way through the basement of an abandoned factory. "But in a way, this is like a demon version of a loft - just without all the remodeling, and using the basement, instead of the upper levels, for housing."

Vi snickered and shook her head, then stiffened for an instant, head cocked to the side. Rick knew she had sensed their prey. She was like a hound dog, in that way. Not that he'd ever make that comparison where she could hear it.

The two picked up their pace, Vi taking point and kicking the next door in, revealing a Fyarl demon in what Rupert would be calling a "threat display". Rick's colleague was an expert for Fyarl demons, for a reason he had never discussed. Rick suspected someone he cared for had been killed by one of the buggers.

Rick stepped to the side, and Vi charged ahead, dodging the load of paralyzing snot coming at her before slamming her foot into the side of the demon's left knee. Howling, it tried to take her head off, but she had dropped below his swing, and was rolling on the floor to his back. Rick watched, but kept his pistol with the silver bullets ready. Just in case Vi caught a case of bad luck.

She didn't. Another kick smashed the monster's nose in, ruining his ability to snot at people and staggering it. Away from a Hellmouth, they really were not that tough compared to a Slayer. Then the blades came out, and tendons got cut.

"You could have simply shot his knees out with the shotgun," Rick commented as he stepped inside the room.

"I don't want to get rusty. Not everything can be shot." Vi curb-stomped the demon's right claw, then put her foot on his back and kept him down.

"Point." Rick looked around, spotting a tupperware container with the slightly decomposing missing liver in it. Fyarl's - not the brightest bulbs among demons. He sighed, then crouched down at the side of the demon.

"Hello. I am Castle, that's Vi. We've got a few questions for you regarding the murder of a Mrs. Jennifer Farwright, who was found stuffed into her safe and missing her liver. You wouldn't know something about it, would you?"

He did, but it took a few more applications of controlled violence from Vi until he spilled what he knew. After the monster had finished, Rick pulled out his smartphone and showed the demon a picture. "So… this girl hired you for the murder, and then used magic to clean up?" A weak nod from the broken demon confirmed Janet's involvement.

A stab with a silver dagger later, one of the murderers was no more.

Vi stood up, wiping the blade clean on a rag. "So, Rick… we know the perp, but we can't prove it. What do we do?"

"We can't take her out now, not with the police involved. We'll have to see how the investigation is proceeding. Given that the girl wanted her aunt to 'die surrounded by the money she loved more than her niece', our new friends from the 12th Precinct might turn up something."

*****​

"Oh, back to nature!" Rick grinned as Becket stopped the car at the edge of a small forest in New Jersey.

"Don't wander off. I'd rather not explain to the Captain why the Mayor's friend got lost in the woods," Beckett ordered, then went to look at a big sign declaring this the future location of the 'Pine Forest Condo Complex'. Rick couldn't spot any pines in the wood, but he guessed the future owners would care, since the wood would be cleared anyway.

"Will it still be built, with the main investor dead?" he asked, watching the trees.

"That depends on what her heirs decide."

Vi was moving slowly, a bit too nonchalantly, towards the edge of the forest. She probably had spotted someone - or something. If they encountered a demon here… well, he was already wondering how Beckett would react to such a revelation, but she'd probably try to shoot things that couldn't be shot, and get hurt for her ignorance.

And it would be his fault, somewhat.

It wasn't a demon that stepped out from between the trees, but a young woman, in what Castle was calling 'Hippie Chic' where Willow couldn't hear him. Real hippies, as his mother had been fond to tell him, didn't wear labels.

"Detective Beckett, NYPD. May I ask what you are doing here?" Beckett took charge, or thought so.

"I am Mary-Anne Waterson. I was visiting our grove," the woman answered, her attention fixed on Vi. She was wearing a symbol for the Earth-Goddess Castle recognized. A Wiccan then. Probably even a real one, since Vi remained tense.

"Your grove?" Beckett must have picked up on the tension.

"My coven's grove. The place where we gather to worship the Earth." The woman explained, briefly making eye contact with the cop, before turning her attention back on the Slayer. Definitely a witch.

Beckett's eyebrows rose a bit, but that was all the reaction she showed. "Do you know a Miss Janet Farwright?"

"Yes, she is also a member of our coven."

"So that's why she was opposed to the construction project!" Castle declared, as if he had just realized it. The look Beckett gave him showed she had bought the deception. Or she was just annoyed that he was blurting out information.

"Yes. She was very distraught that a member of her family was about to destroy our holy place." The woman explained, in a slightly etheral voice.

"Did she say anything about her dispute with her aunt lately?"

The woman shook her head. "Only that she was optimistic that her aunt would see reason, and not choose money over her family, and nature. She didn't tell us anything more than that."

"Well, I am not sure dying can be equaled to seeing reason," Rick stated.

"Every death is a tragedy, even if the cycle of life continues. The Earth does not condone violence." The woman looked straight at Castle now.

Willow had a more flexible view, but Rick nodded. He'd still have to check if the coven was involved in the murder or not. Or rather, he'd have Willow look into that. She or some of her students were far better suited to dealing with fellow witches anyway, and Rick would rather have some magic backup when taking care of their murder witch.

Beckett rolled her eyes now. "When was the last time you spoke with her?"

The detective continued to question the witch, but nothing more relevant was revealed, other than a lot of details about the wiccan's beliefs and practises. Enough to confirm the motive, though, if Janet cared even half as much about the grove as Waterson, and was not quite as strong in her rejection of violence.

Judging by the thin line Beckett's lips had turned into on the way back to the car, the detective had come to the same conclusion. She knew Janet was the killer, but she couldn't prove it.

Fortunately, Rick could do something about that. With a little help from his friends.

*****​

"No one will ever believe that!" Vi huffed, wiping sweat from her forehead. Even for a Slayer, moving heavy machinery in cramped spaces was sweaty work.

"Sure they will. It's the only explanation that makes a shred of sense, if you discount magic," Rick answered, surveying the result. "One industrial grade meat maimer, in a van records will show Janet purchased two weeks ago."

"It's not a 'meat maimer'. That's not a word." Vi pouted.

"Who's the famous bestselling author here, you or me? If I say it's a word, it's a word!" Rick countered while making sure the remnants of the liver were spread inside the contraption. "Anyway - they'll buy the story because they'll make it up themselves."

It wasn't as if Janet Farwright would be around to tell them otherwise. She'd have a tragic accident trying to dispose of the van.

"Why all the fuss anyway? We could just let the witch disappear. One unsolved case, among dozens." Vi climbed out of the van.

"People wouldn't know what happened. They'd be wondering if she really was guilty, or just another victim. Insurances, authorities… lots of people would be wasting their time, time better spent helping others. And it wouldn't be just," Rick stated. "This way, the case is solved, the right way."

"Yeah… by fooling everyone." Vi didn't sound too convinced, but she stopped griping. Too many people knowing about the supernatural, too many fearing the Forces of Darkness, could wake up entities no one, not even the vampires and other 'normal' demons, wanted around. Dealing with that mess in L.A. had showed that. Though he had a feeling that sooner or later, Beckett would have to be informed. She was just a bit too good at her job.

"Alright, let's ditch them!"

A bit of a shove, and the van started to roll down towards the river.

*****​

"... and while trying to get rid of the machine and van she had used to kill her aunt, she had an accident, and drowned. We found the security camera spoofers too, that gave her the window of opportunity to murder her." Beckett explained while clearing her 'Murder Wall' of the files from the Farwright case.

Rick hated himself right then, but he had to ask: "But why did she do it that way? Why not simply stage a robbery gone wrong?"

"Who knows? She was probably too worked up in the symbolism to think straight. But it all fits. The DNA, Perlmutter's report, the receipts and the fake ID she set up to purchase the van and machine online… premeditated murder." She turned to him. "So, do you think this will make for a good case for your 'Supernatural Detective'?"

"Hm. I am not sure. I think Nikki Heat will discover that the murder was a witch who hired a demon to do the deed because she wasn't strong enough to do it herself with magic. But she hadn't enough money to hire a decent assassin, so her bargain-rate killer tried to make more money on the side by selling body parts of the kill, which led to all unraveling. I'll probably add a long background of being seen as weak and useless by her family too. Wounded pride, maybe some jealousy, and some of her power bound in the threatened grove…" Rick trailed of when he saw the detective's face.

"Nikki Heat? You're giving me a porn star name?!"

"Err…"

Rick was very glad that there were too many witnesses around for Kate Beckett to shoot him and claim self-defense. Vi and the two other detectives were chuckling to the side, of course.
 
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New York, May 2009
New York, May 2009

"I do hope you're surfing the net, and not studying, Honey. You know what I think about too much studying for school," Richard Castle said, passing his daughter on the way to his coffee maker.

Alexis jerked, then smiled at him. "I'm not studying for school, dad!"

She sounded honest, but her smile had that slightly forced quality to it that told Castle she was not entirely truthful. Ah, youth… if he had had the internet when he was her age… well, he probably wouldn't have finished school. Still, he wouldn't let the rare opportunity to embarrass his studious daughter pass by. So while his mug was getting filled drop by drop, he took a peek at his daughter's notebook screen. "So… what kind of non-school stuff are you reading? The latest news on Take … 'The breeding habits of Beozars'? Alexis!"

His daughter pushed her chin up and met his eyes stubbornly. "Dad! That's a violation of my privacy!"

"Why are you reading this, and not something a girl your age would want to hide from her wise parents?" Why was his daughter studying a tome from the finally restored and now fully digitalized Watchers Library?

"Why wouldn't she, since she hasn't even one wise parent?" Martha Rodgers swept into the kitchen area and stole his mug before he could answer. Without coffee, he really was too handicapped. "Other parents would be glad their children are interested in their work, instead of trying to rebel, Kiddo. I certainly would have been so very pleased if you had shown such interest in theatre." With that she took a sip from his coffee, then proceeded to murder the taste out of it with more sugar and milk than any self-respecting mug of coffee should suffer.

"You would have liked me to serve as your rehearsal partner without bribes, you mean, Mother," he retorted. Then he turned to his daughter who was trying to slip away. "We've not yet finished our talk, young lady!"

Alexis froze, and turned back to face him, a mulish expression on her face. "I am reading this because I want to follow in your footsteps, Dad. Giles and Mum gave me full access to the online library."

"I honestly doubt Rupert was able to access it himself, much less give anyone else access, given his view of those 'horrible machines', as he calls computers," Rick answered while taking his second-favorite mug and starting the coffee maker again.

"He delegated that." Alexis made a dismissive gesture with her hand. She looked so much like the stereotypical teenager who knew everything better than her parents right then, Rick almost sighed. "Dad, I am the responsible one in this family. The only one. And learning about our family trade is the responsible thing to do."

Rick opened his mouth to refute that statement - he certainly was anything but responsible - but she cut him off. "Besides, would you rather I spend summer in London with Mum?"

Rick knew when he was beaten, but he didn't want to admit defeat yet. But before he could present another argument, he was interrupted yet again.

"London's great!" A cheerful voice sounded from the door. Violet 'Vi' O'Malley had arrived. "They have a much more reasonable drinking age, great shops, and greater clubs!" New York's resident Slayer announced as she waved at them, and went right past them to pillage their fridge. A Slayer's appetite was be a terrible thing to behold.

Rick didn't have to look at his daughter to know she was smiling triumphantly - she knew that for all his claims to the contrary, Rick didn't really want her to live it up like other teenagers. Especially not the vampire slaying, hard partying kind of teenagers.

But he wasn't sure studying to become a Watcher was any better. Especially since that generally led to working with the aforementioned teenagers.

He was aware that all three redheads in his life were waiting for him to say something. Fortunately, he was saved by his smartphone ringing.

"We've got a case!"

*****​

Long experience had taught Castle not to let a Slayer's driving faze him. It was like with certain predators - you couldn't show fear. Still, appearances had to be maintained. "You know, it's not exactly an emergency. Dead bodies don't get up and walk away if you're late." He waited a second, just enough for Vi to start contradicting him, before he added "Not in daylight at least."

The pout and glare she shot at him made the next two turns taken at just this side of a safe speed - for Slayers - worth it, in his opinion. And he learned a new curse from that gentleman they had almost run over.

"You already had two!" Rick said, smacking at the hand that tried to reach for the doughnut box they had gotten on the way.

"I'm a growing girl!" she protested.

"You were a growing girl. Years ago," he stated, then hastily added: "Now you're a young woman." when she growled at him. Slayers. If they lost at words, they started with the threats. Two could play that game, though. "Nun. Convent. Dumpy."

"You already wrote that book." She wasn't impressed.

"I could retcon it. Revise the book."

"Too much work," Vi claimed, with a confident smirk.

Damn. She knew him well. "There's still Virginia."

"Virginia?" Now he had her attention.

"The superhuman hot chick working with Nikki Heat. What do you think about making the two a couple? No, making Virginia lust after Nikki, while Nikki is not interested?"

The horrified stare told him he still got some leverage on his Slayer. Apart from being her Watcher, of course. And the one paying her bills. The things one had to do to keep the World safe and saved.

"Detective Becket would kill you. You barely survived the name for her character." Vi stated with a smug grin after she had parked the Shelby.

"Don't forget to leave the gun in the car," he told her, getting out. He didn't tell her to keep her blades and stake in the car - as Xander had taught him, you never gave an order you knew wouldn't be obeyed. With Slayers, there were a lot of those to mind.

"Yes, Dad. I'll be a good girl for Detective Tightass."

"Vi!"

"What?"

He rolled his eyes. And Martha said he'd never grow up. She never said this to or about Vi, of course.

*****​

"We're bringing gifts!" Rick announced as he and Vi approached the crime scene. "Get them before Vi does!" he added, presenting the doughnut box. His inspiration for Nikki Heat turned her head towards him, an annoyed expression on her face. Not as annoyed as she used to have, though, like right after she had found out about the character he was working on with her as a role model. And not as annoyed as the one she sent at Vi. Castle was making progress!

Detectives Esposito and Ryan were less stand-offish, or simply hungrier, and quickly came over to greet Rick and Vi, and pick the tastiest doughnuts for themselves. Rick noted with some amusement that Esposito picked Vi's favorite, and missed her frown. Ah, the perils of not paying attention to the object of your affection!

Rick himself walked over to Beckett, who was crouching next to a mangled corpse. He couldn't help but notice how her jeans were perfectly molded to her curves. 'Detective Tightass' indeed. But he was rather certain that if he used that particular nickname in the book, he would end up regretting it very much. "Doughnut?" He smiled at her, and at the Medical Examiner, Lanie.

"Thank you!" Lanie picked one and ate it. Castle privately wondered if she had yet been introduced to a certain set of rules by Perlmutter. He'd have to ask the old man next time they met.

Castle took one for himself, and sent a warning glare at Vi, who was already trying to sneak up on him, before offering the box to Beckett again.

This time she took one - as he had expected. She wouldn't want to look 'weak' when everyone else was snacking, undisturbed by the presence of a dead body lying in a pool of blood.

"Pretty bloody. That wasn't a vampire," Rick stated. "And the wounds are all wrong for a werewolf."

Lanie giggled, but Rick couldn't tell if it was at his comments, or at Becket's expression. He had timed his words so she had her mouth full, after all.

She hastily swallowed the doughnut, then narrowed her eyes at him. "Castle! Can you be serious for a minute? This is a murder, not a scene from 'Against the Wild'!"

"You're read that? Wow, I thought only hardcore Castle groupies did. I mean… werewolf packs roaming Scandinavia, led by the cursed lover of a viking princess?" Castle smirked, even more so when he noticed a faint blush. Probably equal parts embarrassment and rage.

Beckett turned to Lanie, who was stifling her own giggles. "So, what can you tell us?"

"He was killed by five curved blades ripping out his throat and cutting through the artery there. Death by blood loss," the woman explained, pointing out the wounds with her pen.

"What kind of weapon could do this?" Beckett wondered.

"A Bagh Naka," Vi answered, bending down. Castle saw her smirk when the Detective frowned. The two women still didn't get along. At all. "An easily concealable weapon originally from India. Also known as 'Tiger Claw'."

Slayers and weapons… they put the stereotypical redneck to shame. Rick bent down himself. "Or those were real claws. Bit small for a tiger, but..." he cocked his head. There were a number of demons who could have done this, but most of them were rather rare.

"A tiger loose in new York? Sounds like a pulp novel, Castle." Beckett shook her head at him.

"It could also be a demon. Gr'krer Demons have such claws." Rick nodded at the detective as she stood up again, then grinned when she rolled her eyes. "Or a Rakshasa, but those are supposed to be extinct." At least none of them had been seen since the 19th century, when the Slayer had made a grand tour through India.

"Why not werecougars, Castle?" Beckett scoffed.

"It's not the full moon. They can't transform," Castle answered, in a tone that made it clear he thought that was obvious. And it should have been obvious, of course.

Before Beckett could retort, Ryan interrupted them. "Beckett! The Captain's on the line. He said the FBI wants to take over the case!"

"The Feds? Wow! This case is getting better and better!" Castle smiled widely. He would get to observe the typical tension between local law enforcement officers and the FBI first hand! Turf wars! Confrontations! He couldn't wait to meet the special agents!
 
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New York, May 2009
New York, May 2009

"Ah, there you are! Agent Sorenson, this is Detective Beckett, one of our best," Captain Montgomery stated. "Detective Beckett, this is Special Agent Sorenson from the FBI." The captain looked like he had been about to add something more, but trailed off when it became obvious to everyone present that the two already knew each other.

"Hello, Kate."

"Hello, Will."

That wasn't the kind of tension Richard Castle had wanted to see. Not at all. The slightly handsome but far too young for his post - he had to be about 30 years old - special agent, exchanging those kind of meaningful looks with the smart and sassy detective? Who had ordered a romantic rival this early in the book?

"I see you know each other already," the captain added, with the kind of understanding smile that was completely out of place, in Castle's opinion. As was the whistle from Vi next to him.

The man in the far cheaper suit than his own met his eyes, and for a moment, both stared at each other. Like two gunslingers meeting on the main street, Castle thought.

Beckett interrupted the stare-out. "Ah, Will, those are Castle and his girlfriend. He's an author who follows me around so he can get 'inspiration' for his next book. The Mayor is a fan of him."

"She's not my girlfriend!" Castle automatically shot back. She didn't have to make it sound so dirty, he thought. Both Vi's and his presence, to be precise. He shook hands with the agent, both squeezing harder than was polite. No one said anything though. "Richard Castle." The famous, ruggedly handsome and rich author.

"I am Vi. I am his bodyguard and driver so the detectives can focus on their cases instead of keeping him safe and out of trouble." Castle's Slayer sent a dazzling smile at the agent. Rick wasn't certain if he should approve of the comment and smile, or not. On the one hand, it made him look as if he got into trouble on his own - and Vi knew that he was the one who kept her out of trouble, or at least tried his best, at least nine times out of ten!. On the other hand, if Vi seduced the agent, then… he caught Beckett's stony expression at the blatant flirting of Vi. Or maybe the implication that she couldn't solve a case and keep him safe at the same time. Not approving clearly was the order of the day.

"I see. Well, this is a federal case, so the presence of civilians is neither wanted nor allowed." Sorenson stated, pompously. Beckett didn't have to look so happy at that, Castle thought.

"Murder is now a federal crime?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Kidnapping is." Sorenson stared at him.

"The victim was kidnapped? Or a kidnapper?" Castle asked. If this was related to a sacrifice…

"That's classified information, Mister Castle. Which you are not privy to."

"That's exactly the wrong thing to say to him," Vi shook her head. "You have to make it sound boring, not restricted if you want him to stop prying." She sent another beaming smile at the agent.

Castle shot her a glare, and another when he noticed Beckett nodding as if she was taking notes. That was classified information his Slayer was spilling. Classified and personal!

"How about I make it sound like a prison term?" Sorenson apparently had no sense of humor. "Don't interfere with my case, Mister Castle. Do you understand?"

The agent might have looked intimidating to a lesser man, but Rick had met the First Evil in person, and lived to tell the tale. And make a lot of money with it. Insecure younger men with not quite as well-tailored suits as his own didn't really rate as a threat. He smiled sweetly at the man. "I understand perfectly." He turned to leave.

"Does that mean I have to leave as well?" Vi asked, pouting.

"Yes." "No!"

Beckett and everyone else glared at Esposito, who looked embarrassed at his outburst. Castle rolled his eyes. "Come on, Vi. We'll look for inspiration elsewhere while the good agent solves this case. Shouldn't take longer than six months or so, I think." He didn't understand why both Beckett and Sorenson looked like he had just slapped them.

*****​

"Please tell me he's a demon and you can slay him!" Castle said as soon as he and his Slayer were alone in the elevator.

"Sorry, Rick. He doesn't twig that way to me." Vi grinned. "So… will you call in a favor and get the agent off the case?"

Rick shook his head. "I would never abuse the Council's influence for such petty reasons."

"Rupert still hasn't forgotten the boyfriend incident, hm?" Vi grinned.

Castle sent her a dark look. "Any father would want to know more about his daughter's first boyfriend." The boy in question had had a rap sheet, after all. Egging a neighbour's house was not to be taken lightly.

Vi kept grinning. "Are we off the case then?"

"Of course not. It could be a demon behind this. We need the name of the victim, and as many details as we can get," Rick casually said. "Don't get caught this time, please. Unlike criminals, you can't beat up the cops."

"Of course I can; you just don't want me to!" Vi pouted at him.

Castle huffed. Slayers! Although that sounded a lot like Alexis's influence to him.

*****​

"The dead guy was Manish Kaur, a tourist from India. He's the suspect in the kidnapping of Clarice Mattu, the one year old daughter of Ajeet and Becky Mattu. The father is originally from India, Punjab, and came to the USA as a student at the MIT. He stayed after graduation, made a fortune in the IT business, and kept it through the dot com bubble bursting. Married Becky Carlson in 2000. They live in Boston. The girl was kidnapped two days ago. Forensic evidence and witnesses led to Kaur." Vi announced proudly when she entered Castle's office and interrupting his work - he was making notes for a side character, a bumbling, arrogant fellow cop always trying to hit on Nikki Heat. Unsuccessfully, of course.

The Slayer sat down on Rick's desk and let her feet dangle while she threw a small memory stick to him. "I made notes of everything I heard. And no one ever saw me!"

"Good work, Vi." Castle smiled at her, and she preened. "Was there a ransom demand?"

"Not to the cops' knowledge." Vi shook her head. "They are looking into possible accomplices traveling with Kaur."

"Why would a kidnapper come down to new York? Was there any sign of the girl?"

"They found a receipt for nappies and baby food in the victim's wallet. Bought in a supermarket in New York." Vi added.

"A baby. I don't like this case." Castle declared. Too many demons were fond of babies - as a meal. Too many rituals could use them as sacrifices.

Vi nodded, looking as grim as he felt. "I didn't smell anything demony, though, at the murder site."

"Your nose is good, but not infallible." Castle retorted. "Let's hit Clark's and see if there was a new demand for Indian food lately."

"Speaking of… let's stop at King Curry's on the way!"

"Did you skip lunch?" He wouldn't have expected Vi to. Slayers were like bottomless pits, and he had the credit card receipts from her expenses to prove it.

"Yes?" She tried to sound innocent again.

She didn't, then. He sighed. "You know, most female Watchers consider a Slayer's ability to pig out without gaining weight the greatest injustice on earth."

The wide smile of Vi showed she was all too aware of that fact. He wondered what Beckett would think about it. And if she had already noticed just how much Vi ate compared to everyone else at the precinct.

A jealous Beckett would probably look cute.

*****​

Clark's was a bust. Vi got to slay a demon who got too cocky - a new arrival, apparently - but there were not even rumors of Indian demons around, or any of the other kind known to eat babies. With no other supernatural lead to chase, Castle and his Slayer were checking the more esoteric weapon shops. There were a number of legends of cursed weapons transforming the wielder into a beastman, or a madman.

'Cadbury's Antiques' was one of the shops selling all kinds of weapons. Despite the name it sold both old and new weapons, as well as the odd magical one. Ray, the proprietor, beamed at them when they entered. "Rick! Vi! Long time no see!"

"I remember paying for a claymore last month;" Rick commented while shaking hands with the burly older man.

"As I said, long time no see." Ray grinned. Vi had waved and was already studying the numerous exotic blades displayed on the left side wall. "I've got some new pieces this week."

Caste reminded himself that he was rich. He could afford to reinforce the floor of Vi's apartment, to handle the metric ton of steel in sharp and pointy form she seemed bent on accumulating. The way she was fondling a saber told him he'd pay for another sword today. As expected Vi was soon swinging the blade around like she were fighting someone in close quarters. As if she hadn't enough blades already! At least she didn't collect shoes as well, unlike Buffy.

Sighing, he turned to Ray. "It looks like you'll make another sale today."

Ray was all smiles. "It's a very good blade. Toledo steel. 18th century. According to its history, it was used at Trafalgar."

"Nifty. While Vi's getting acquainted with her new love, I wanted to ask if you sold any bagh nakas lately."

"Tiger claws? I sold a pair a week ago. Antiques, but nothing special." Ray answered. "I didn't test them myself though." So they could have been magical, or cursed.

The door opened and they heard a gasp and a curse together with the door's chime. Turning around, Castle groaned at the sight.

Detective Beckett was standing on the threshold, staring the saber Vi had just executed a lunge with. The razor sharp blade was blocking her way, rather close to her throat. Behind the woman, Sorenson had his hand under his jacket.

"Oops. I didn't see you. Sorry, I was just testing my new saber," Vi said innocently.

The look on Beckett's face told Castle that she would make Vi feel sorry indeed. Well she could try - he was the girl's Watcher, and he only occasionally succeeded. Then the detective spotted him, and he just knew he'd get the blame.

Story of his life.
 
Last edited:
New York, May 2009
New York, May 2009

"What are you doing here?" Becket was livid, and it seemed not just because Vi had greeted her with a blade near her throat. His Slayer'd be hearing about this, Richard Castle promised - Vi would have heard the two coming long before they opened the door, so this had been an intentional gesture, not a mistake.

"Vi wanted to buy a new sword. It's been a month since she got the last, after all." Castle answered. Judging by the darkening expression on the two cops - one cop, one fed, he corrected himself - that didn't help.

"I told you: I won't tolerate interference with this case!" Sorenson growled. Touchy, probably compensating for something, Castle thought. Or hoped.

"Interference?" Rick did put as much innocent confusion into his voice as possible. "We're regulars of this fine shop, you can ask Ray."

"Yes. Rick's purchases put my daughter through college," Ray cut in. "The girl knows her blades. They're some of my best customers." The unspoken 'don't hassle them' was clearly understood.

Vi nodded emphatically. "I've got a great sword collection. I'd gladly show it to you, Agent Sorenson." The agent in question blinked at her, then apparently decided to ignore the redhead's flirting. Castle had seen that before - some men simply couldn't handle a Slayer's attitude. They were used to be the hunter, not the hunted.

"Her insurance premiums are about to rise past the mortgage payments on her flat," the author added. Vi smiled as if that was a good thing.

Beckett's glare shifted from Rick to Vi and back before the detective addressed Ray. "We've got a few questions about a special weapon you might have sold. But we can wait until Castle bought a new toy for his girlfriend.

"She's not my girlfriend," Castle answered. "Are you sure? Vi hasn't finished browsing. Between testing each blade, and picking one, and whining about not getting two…" he dodged the elbow he knew was coming at that barb "... this could take another hour or two." Which was only slightly exaggerated.

"Can we speak to you privately, sir?" Sorenson apparently hadn't any patience. Go figure. Rick almost shook his head.

"We can go to the backroom. But please do not touch any of the blades there. The oil on your skin could damage them," Ray gestured, and then went behind the counter.

Castle smirked at the expression on the agent's face as the man walked past him, then made a 'who, me?' face at Beckett's glare. Once the two had disappeared into Ray's backroom, Castle and his Slayer chuckled, then Vi did some more test swings and Castle looked at a display of 19th century hunting knives.

Beckett and Mr. FBI emerged from the back after a few minutes. The detective narrowed her eyes at Castle while Sorenson turned to Ray. "Thank you for your cooperation. I have to remind you though that sharing any of the information you have given us with anyone else is not permitted and can lead to charges brought up against you."

"Oh, please!" Rick sighed theatrically. "If you are so worried about us forcing our friend to tell us anything about this so-called case of yours, you can stay until we pay for Vi's new toy and leave."

The agent looked like he was considering it, but Beckett rolled her eyes and nudged him. Far too familiar, Castle thought with a frown. Vi of course found it amusing.

Once they had left, Castle's Slayer grinned. "They're off to check on the man who bought the pair of bagh nakas, Raj Godara. I've got the address as well."

"If that's a cursed weapon, they'll be in danger," Castle sighed.

"It didn't look like it, but I didn't exactly test it," Ray answered. "The chance of a cursed weapon reaching me without triggering on the way is very low though. What are the chances it would happen twice to me?"

"A lot higher than you might think, given my experience," Castle grumbled. Sometimes he wondered if he had picked up a curse in Sunnydale.

"It's Rick's fault then," Vi declared, still swinging her new saber around. As usual, his glare didn't impress her at all.

He quickly grew serious though. "Let me pay for your new piece, then follow the agent and the detective, in case they find a beastman or berserker. But please, do not get caught."

"Have I ever been caught?" Vi grinned impishly. When Castle opened his mouth. "Caught and not gotten away, I mean."

And with that the Slayer was off.

Castle rubbed his forehead. "I'll look into curses, I guess. And sacrifices." He looked at Ray.

The burly man shook his head. "I haven't sold a sacrificial dagger in months."

Just as Castle was about to leave, his phone beeped. He read the SMS, and frowned. 'GO STR8 HOME NO RISK W/O ME'? Did Vi think he couldn't take care of himself? He had been hunting vampires when she had still been in pre-school!

And now he felt old. And the need to buy something expensive to compensate. Good job, Rick, he told himself.

*****​

Vi returned in the evening, right on time for dinner - Castle's 'Lasagna Surprise'. Which he still felt was an unfair and misleading name, given that that particular surprise had only happened once, but his redheads had outvoted him. Women!

While the redheaded Slayer wolfed down an entire casserole by herself - Castle's family had vetoed his idea to simply replace her plate with the casserole dish as well, Alexis had even scolded him for not having any manners, as if Vi was showing much manners right now - she reported: "Well, it was quite anti-climatic. The guy wasn't at his job - bouncer in a bar catering to Indian immigrants. A co-worker told the cops that Raj had told him about planning to enter an illegal pit fighting circuit, but he thought it was just empty boasting. He wasn't in his flat either, hadn't been there in days. But your dear Detective found a garotte in the flat."

"Thuggees?" Alexis asked. Castle frowned at the reminder that his innocent angel was getting a bit too worldly.

"They revered Kali. If the man is planning to sacrifice the baby… I guess we'll have to check out this pit fighting rumors." Castle pressed his lips together. This case was looking uglier and uglier.

"The cops got three names for possible locations. One of them is the 'Delhi Dancing'," Vi smiled in anticipation as she mentioned the not-quite demon bar. Castle remembered their last visit. His leg had taken a month to heal up.

He looked sternly at his Slayer. "This time, don't piss off the half-snake Bouncer!"

"Cross my heart and hope to die, boss!" Vi raised one hand while she shoveled more pasta in her mouth with the other.

"That's what I am afraid of!" Castle sighed.

*****​

"I thought you promised not to piss the bouncer off!" Castle yelled while ducking under debris sent his way by Vi slamming a half-snake demon into a rather fragile table.

"I didn't! This is the pit fighting champion!" the redhead answered. "And he attacked before I had said anyoof!" Vi was cut off when the demon's tail slammed her into the back wall, cracking the plaster there.

On second thought, maybe they shouldn't have taken the sewer entrance. But he'd never have gotten in through the normal entrance wearing his Ack Pack. Who'd have expected that there was an illegal pit fighting pit in the basement with direct sewer access? Didn't the demons know about security and hygiene? Castle brough his flamethrower to bear on a pair of demons slithering towards him. "That's far enough!"

They didn't listen. They never did. Though maybe those demons didn't understand English. He pulled the trigger. They understood burning fuel well enough though, and hissed and screamed as they thrashed around, tails slapping each other as they tried to put out the flames. It didn't work.

Meanwhile, Vi had jumped back into the fray and was pounding the larger demon. He opened his mouth, baring impressive fangs dripping with poison, but the Slayer was prepared and jammed a piece of wood from the broken table into the monster's mouth. His frustrated screams were quite a bit muffled afterwards.

"We need one of them alive!" Castle yelled, and stepped closer to help his Slayer. Unfortunately, he had misjudged the reach of the demon's tail and found himself swatted aside and slammed into a wall, shoulder first. "We might not need that particular demon alive!" He shouted in pain.

"Roger!" Vi yelled back and kicked the demon into the chest. It fell down, and before it could recover, Vi had drawn her Glock and put half a dozen rounds into its head. It took half a minute to stop thrashing around, even with half its head gone.

Castle checked his shoulder - why did they always hurt the same one? - and got up again, groaning. He might be getting a bit too old for this. Vi was already moving towards the doors to the side. "Throw the burning ones down into the pit first! We don't want to set fire to the house."

Vi sent him a glance that showed she didn't understand why they shouldn't set fire to the demon-infested building, but complied. Two kicks later, the smoking snake corpses were in the pit.

One door revealed a room with a small altar to Kali and several pots. Vi sniffed the dried blood on it. "Not fresh enough for the kidnapping." Castle nodded, and opened a pot. The stench of rotten meat made him close it at once, and he fought not to hurl. Maybe setting fire to the whole building wasn't a bad idea. The visitors in the bar above them surely would get away in time.

The next room had a very soft but oddly stained carpet, and scented candles and cushions spread out through it. Castle was puzzled until Vi sniffed the air and grimaced. "Ew. This smells like a Snake Demon mating chamber!"

Castle looked at what he was standing in, and cursed. Those shoes had been expensive! Then he cursed again - he had just sounded like Buffy in his head! "Why would you know how a Snake Demon mating chamber smells?"

"Well, there was this time I was with Faith, and we surprised one of them mating…" Vi started to explain.

"Too much information, Vi!" He held up his hand and shuddered. One more reason to make sure Faith never, ever got to teach Alexis anything.

Their exploration of the remaining storage room - where first aid supplies as well as spices and sauces were found, a rather weird combination even for demons - was interrupted by someone pounding on the door that led to the stairs to the not quite demon bar above them. He was shouting something in Hindi, probably - Castle wasn't certain. He could read a bit of Sanskrit, to decipher some prophecies, but not Hindi. Maybe it was Punjabi instead. Vi looked as lost as he was.

Both clearly understood the "NYPD! You're under arrest!" though. Beckett's voice. From the stairs. Castle looked at Vi and nodded.

While the sounds of a brief struggle were heard through the fortunately sturdy door, Vi dropped the third snake corpse into the pit, and then Castle emptied his flamethrower into it, before setting it afire.

It had been an ugly bar anyway. Unsavory too.

*****​

The next morning, Castle and Vi headed to the Precinct again. With their latest lead turning out to be a literal dead end - through no fault of them, of course - they needed a bit more information. It shouldn't be too hard for Rick to serve as a distraction for Vi. At least that was the plan. If it failed he hoped the gourmet doughnuts and bear claws would serve as a bribe to avoid bodily harm. His shoulder and face were still hurting from last night.

Agent Sorenson didn't glare at him, but had such a smug grin on his face while looking so tired, Castle feared the worst. Doubly so when he spotted Beckett in a similar condition. "Ah, Mister writer. I am pleased to inform you that despite your meddling, we solved the case and saved the baby."

"You solved it?" Castle blinked. How had they managed that?

"Don't look so surprised, Castle!" Beckett cut in. "We're professionals, after all."

"Wow. So, who was behind it?" Maybe they had been mind-controlled. Some demons could do that.

"Apparently, an uncle of the father of the baby was involved in a crime in India, and needed money to pay off the victim, and possibly the local law enforcement officers as well. Money Mattu didn't want to give to him, so he opted to send a relative of his, Manish Kaur, to kidnap the child. But the kidnapper's contact here, Raj Godara, turned out to be untrustworthy and greedy, and wanted the ransom money himself. It came to blows, and Godara killed Kaur, then took the baby to his step-sister. Everyone involved has been arrested," Sorenson smugly explained. Castle felt relieved - that explained why Sorenson and Beckett were looking so tired and rumpled.

Still, he couldn't let such an opening slip by. "You arrested the baby? Wow, that's harsh. Was she an accomplice?"

Sorenson snapped "Don't be an idiot! We saved the baby and arrested everyone else!"

"Ah. That's… a good thing, but rather boring." Boring was good, of course, if it meant less deaths.

"What's with your face?" Beckett stepped closer, narrowing her eyes. "Where did you get those bruises?"

"Would you believe a Snake Demon slammed me into a wall?" Castle smiled at her. She cared!

"No. I would believe you meddled in this case, and got into trouble looking for a pit fighting ring!" Beckett said, smiling far too sweetly. Vi giggled, but then Beckett added: "I guess it was past your bodyguard's bedtime?"

"It's not my fault!" the Slayer bristled with indignation.

"I fell down the stairs," Castle interrupted before the situation could escalate. Sorenson and Beckett exchanged smirking glances.

"A likely story. So, it looks like you'll not be able to use this case for your book, Castle," the Detective stated with a faint smile.

"Oh, I'll just have it involve Kali-worshipping Half-Snake Demons who run illegal pit fights." Rick smiled while Beckett shook her head. Sorenson muttered something Castle didn't catch, but judging by the frown on Vi's face, it hadn't been complimentary or funny. "I am still wondering where to insert the undercover stripper scene though." As Beckett opened her mouth in outrage, he quickly added "Using the bumbling male undercover FBI agent, of course."

Sorenson looked so shocked, Castle was sure even the Detective was smiling behind the hand covering her face.
 
Last edited:
New York, June 2009
New York, June 2009

"So, how goes the hunt for the elusive smart, sexy and sassy NYPD Homicide Detective?"

Richard Castle looked up from his work on the report about the vampire nest in Harlem they had cleaned out two days ago and stared at his daughter. "Do we need to talk about your daytime TV privileges again?"

"Dad!" Alexis Castle frowned. "Don't change the topic!"

Rick pouted. "She's warming up to me. Slowly but surely."

"That well, huh?" Alexis walked around his desk and hugged him. "Don't worry, Dad, there are lots of smart and pretty women around who don't want to shoot you for hunting demons and saving their lives."

"I see you've been talking extensively with Vi," Castle said drily. "I'll have you know that Detective Beckett didn't try to shoot me yet, and that she doesn't know I hunt demons. Vi's a bit biased when it comes to strong women."

"She doesn't have a problem with Buffy or Faith or Willow," Alexis named the three strongest women she and Rick knew.

"That's because she knows her position in the hierarchy with regards to them. With Beckett, there's still a struggle for dominance." And that sounded far kinkier than Rick had intended. Far more interesting too.

"Kiddo, I keep telling you: Women are not a pack of wolves. Your experiences with your ex-wives notwithstanding," Martha Rodgers cut in.

Rick looked at his mother, standing in the door to his office and wearing an elegant gown. "Says the woman who is about to hunt down older gentlemen."

Martha brushed the comment aside with a casual wave of her hand. "On the contrary. I am allowing them to hunt me."

"I rest my case." Rick shook his head.

"Anyway," Alexis said, ignoring as usual the antics of her grandmother when it suited her, "you still haven't invited my possible new stepmom so we can vet her."

"We are not even dating!" Rick retorted. To think his daughter was still holding him to an agreement he never made in the first place!

"Exactly. If she doesn't measure up you don't need to struggle anymore, and can focus on someone else." Alexis explained her reasoning.

"You couldn't think of a way to visit the precinct without getting picked up for truancy, could you?" Rick narrowed his eyes at his daughter, who had the grace to blush a bit.

"It's just unfair that only Vi gets to see her, but not us." Alexis sounded her age, for a change.

"You saw her when she crashed my book launch party," Rick reminded her.

"That doesn't count. We could hardly see her in the lighting, much less talk to her before she had you taken away for questioning." Alexis's tone copied her grandmother's, but she hadn't the casual waving down pat. Yet.

"Well, Honey, I'd love to invite the dear Detective, but I fear that she wouldn't accept an invitation from me," Rick said with false sincerity. He wasn't exactly counting the number of times his casual invites for a drink, coffee or doughnut had been rejected, but he was sure it had surpassed the numbers of rejection letters he had received at the start of his career as an author.

"Oh, that's no problem, Dad. We'll invite her!" Alexis beamed at him.

"What?" Rick blinked, then gaped.

This couldn't end well.

*****​

"You know, Castle, most men try to hide their kids when hitting on women. You're one of a few who try to use them to hit on women."

Rick stared at Detective Kate Beckett, lowering the hand he had raised in greeting. The author had just arrived at the crime scene, and this wasn't the greeting he'd expected. "Did my daughter invite you to dinner?" he asked.

"Yes. She sounded very earnest, wanting to thank me for keeping her foolish father safe," Beckett sounded vaguely amused, or so Rick hoped.

He caught a glare from Violet "Vi" O'Malley, who had parked the Shelby, and must have overheard the detective. It didn't look like Vi had been informed about the invitation. Joy. "She's very protective of me."

"One would almost think she was your mother, not your daughter," Beckett said.

"Oh, you'd never think that after meeting my mother!" Castle assured her. The look she sent him was priceless. "Ow."

"Don't talk bad about your family, Rick!" Vi admonished him while he rubbed the arm she had just lightly - for a Slayer - slapped.

He sent a glare at her - she knew Martha and should know better! - before asking: "So… did you accept?"

"I want to know first whose idea this was." Becket narrowed her eyes at both him and his Slayer.

"Not mine!" he declared quickly. "Not that I wouldn't invite you."

"You have. Multiple times." Beckett commented drily, and Vi smirked, then glared at the detective.

"Yes. But I generally try not to inflict my family on my dates until a few months into the relationship." Rick said, taking a step away from Vi.

"We tend to scare them away," Vi explained, showing a toothy smile to the detective.

"Really?" Beckett lifted an eyebrow and met the Slayer's stare. Castle wasn't sure if the doubt dripping from her voice was about the scaring part, or Vi's implied claim that she was part of his family. Or both.

"Yes. He's got a terrible taste in women, so we often have to protect him for his own good. Too many gold diggers and bimbos around." Vi's smile grew wider. "Present company excluded of course." She was acting like she usually did before breaking some hulking demon's face.

"Of course." Beckett's lips formed a very thin line now. She turned to Castle. "I think I'll accept your family's invitation. I am sure it will be a remarkable experience."

That was exactly what Castle was fearing.

*****​

"So, what's the case?" Castle said, after a few very uncomfortable moments had passed.

"Stabbing victim. Possibly a robbery gone wrong." Beckett walked towards the side alley partially hidden by an ambulance.

The victim was a woman, middle-aged. Slumped over, sitting in a pool of blood. Not a Vampire, Rick thought at once. They would never waste so much blood.

Lanie was there, already at work.

"Stabbed in the heart with a blade. Judging by the liver temperature, death occurred around midnight. Entry angle means the blow came from below," the medical examiner explained.

"Strong too," Beckett said in a slightly strained voice, pointing at a hole in the brick wall.

Vi made sniffing noise and when Castle looked at her, she nodded. That meant it smelled like a demon. Literally.

"Well, it's not a Polgara Demon. The entry wound is not big enough," Castle stated, crouching down to peer at it.

"Straight double-bladed short sword," Vi added. "Underhanded stab. Probably lifted her up a bit, and pinned her against the wall while she bled." The Slayer demonstrated the move.

"I don't see any metal traces in the hole," Beckett, looking far tenser than Castle would have expected, retorted.

"It's a magical sword then. Mere bricks cannot damage an enchanted blade," Rick speculated. Vi's eyes lit up. He hoped it was not a cursed blade. Not again.

"Can you be serious for once?" Beckett rolled her eyes at him.

"We can also exclude vampires. Too much blood wasted." Castle added. He probably shouldn't push the good detective, but he couldn't help it. She was so much fun to tease.

"It's not a robbery. The victim still has her purse." Lanie pointed out.

"The killer might have been spooked into fleeing by something or someone," Castle cocked his head, trying to picture the angles to the entrance of the alley.

"It's too far from the entrance, and anyone in the alley would have found the body then," Beckett countered. "A more important question is: Why was a well-dressed woman" - she glanced at the driving license in the purse - "like Marcella Garcia in such an alley to begin with?" She pointed at the shoes. "And in those heels?"

"Maybe she took a short cut that got cut short?" Castle ventured a guess.

It hadn't been one of his best lines, judging by the looks everyone present sent at him.

*****​

"So… did you recognize the smell?" Castle asked when they were back in the Shelby, driving towards the 12th Precinct.

"No. It smelled like a demon though, but… just demon-y. Not vampire-y or polgara-y," the redhead answered while taking a tight, too tight turn.

"You know, the English language is not an acceptable target for slaying," Castle commented.

"We're not slaying it, we're improving it, old man. Evolving," Vi snarked back.

"More like devolving. Soon you'll speak in grunts," Castle retorted.

"And club men over the head and drag them back to our caves?" Vi asked, sweetly. "You wish!"

"I have to point out that I did get away from you in exactly such a situation," Castle grinned.

Vi frowned, and slightly blushed, but didn't comment further. Victory!

"We'll have to ask Ray if he sold another cursed blade." Castle didn't think it would be that easy.

Vi nodded eagerly. The redhead would never oppose visiting Ray's shop. "So… what do you think turned the stick up Beckett's butt into a pole?"

"Your choice of words needs work. A lot of work. And a lot less Faith."

"Of course an old man would say that." Vi was smirking.

"40 is not old." It really wasn't.

"Your new car says otherwise." Grinning now.

"We needed a new, fast one."

"Suuuure." Vi drawled.

"You know, we can get a more sensible car for you to drive. Maybe a station wagon…" Castle speculated, and noted with satisfaction that Vi lost her grin at once.

He still had it.
 
Last edited:
New York, June 2009
New York, June 2009

"Mrs. Garcia's marriage was failing. She's been talking to her lawyer about filing for a divorce, which would have cost her husband half his fortune," Detective Beckett explained while pinning two pictures to her murder wall - one for the lawyer, Miss Templeton, one for the widowed Alfonso Garcia.

"So, there's a motive," Richard Castle stated. "As a two-times divorcé, I can attest to the fact that such an event can cause violent urges."

"Mister Garcia is quite small. He doesn't look like he'd be able to stab his wife with the force the medical examiner reported," Beckett shot his theory down.

"Maybe the magic sword enhances the wielder's strength?" It was a not uncommon effect of cursed weapons, part of the legends of berserkers.

"Next you'll mention that the murderer was on PCP." Beckett shook her head, almost looking amused.

"A gang member on PCP?" Castle blinked. "People actually believe that?" Vi snickered.

"It's an urban legend. Though a bit more believable than a magic sword, Castle," Detective Ryan cut in.

Esposito arrived. "They didn't find the vic's cell phone at the location. The telecom company is trying to locate it - and they found out that it was used the last time a few hours after the time of the murder." He put down a bundle of pages covered with information about calls and cells.

"Ryan, Esposito - look into finding that phone. Check with pawn shops in the area it was last used or connected to a cell tower. I and Castle will talk to the husband of the victim," Beckett ordered. She didn't hesitate that long before adding him, Rick thought. He was making progress.

"Would anyone actually sell a phone taken from a murder victim?" Castle was surprised.

"Yes. Murderers are usually not criminal geniuses. Most of the time they are as dumb as a fledgling." The detective took a last look at her murder wall before turning away.

"Ohhh, you really know my books!" Castle exclaimed, pleased. "You would be my No. 1 fan, if not for the threats to shoot or arrest me!" The glare he got for that remark was tempered by the slight flushing of her cheeks. Indeed, progress!

"No, she wouldn't. Dawn would still be No. 1, closely followed by Willow," Vi corrected him while hopping down from the desk she had been sitting on.

"Dawn? Willow? More conquests of yours, Castle?" Beckett raised an eyebrow. Sadly, her blush had completely disappeared.

Castle shot Vi a glare, which the Slayer shrugged off with a grin, as usual, as he explained: "They are friends of us, and no, neither was ever my girlfriend."

"That's because Buffy would kill you if you slept with her baby sister, and Kennedy would emasculate you if you managed to seduce her girlfriend," Vi stated, moving slightly ahead so she'd be in front of them when the elevator opened.

"Vi! I'd never sleep with an underage girl, no matter if she has a homicidal sister or not!" Castle exclaimed while they waited for the elevator.

"Dawn grew up though," Vi said, and Castle wondered how she managed to put so much innuendo into the remark without leering.

"She did. And she grew out of her crush at the same time," Castle retorted. Truth to tell, Dawn had pursued him after she 'had come of age', as she had put it, but he had been rather certain it had just been to rile up Buffy. And even if things had been different, it took a braver man than him to enter a relationship with the baby sister of the most famous Slayer in history. Additionally, telling Dawn that had been an excellent way to get back at Buffy for never withdrawing her threat against him.

And speaking of payback… "So, you don't need to worry, you're not the only young woman whose advances I rejected." Rick smiled patronizingly at his Slayer. That would teach her to try sabotaging his budding - so he hoped - relationship with Beckett.

Beckett raised an eyebrow at the gaping redhead. Since the girl seemed at a loss for words, Castle used the opportunity to spin a tale: "Ah, years ago, I was one of the chaperones on a camping trip she and a number of her friends took in California. One night she managed to get really drunk, and well, literally threw herself at me. I let her down gently."

"You jumped in your car and fled, and didn't return until the next morning," Vi bared her teeth at him.

"That doesn't sound like you were much of a chaperone, Castle," Beckett shook her head, though she was faintly smiling. "Letting your charges get drunk, and then fleeing the scene?"

Castle wasn't about to mention that a bunch of possessed Slayers had been about to tear the clothes off him and Giles, so he exchanged glares with Vi again. "It wasn't my fault. No one would have been able to stop that."

"Of course," Beckett said, patronizingly. "But really - who would name her daughter 'Buffy'?"

"Californians," Castle answered, shrugging.

*****​

Alfonso Garcia didn't look like a grieving widower. More like a man trying to look like he was grieving and not about to shop for a trophy wife. But at the time his wife had been killed he had been at a party on Long Island according to him. Castle expected his alibi to check out since he didn't smell like a demon to Vi. That didn't mean the man was innocent, of course.

While Beckett was asking the man more questions about his marriage, and if his wife had any enemies, and what she might have done in that particular alley, Castle was looking around in the man's apartment. He didn't spot any supplies for magic, but the man had an interesting library.

"It's nice to meet another man with a taste for old books," he said, smiling, when Beckett seemed to have finished with her questions. Pulling out a tome bound in exotic leather - hellhound, probably - he discovered it was a treatise on demons from the 17th century. He noticed Garcia's eyes widened, but that could have been because Castle was handling a book worth a fortune. Rick didn't think so, though - the woven bookmark in the tome was on the page dealing with Mohra Demons. He almost winced - those were bad news. Almost indestructible, regenerating, very skilled fighters, and fire didn't do anything to them but make them mad. And they worked as mercenaries and assassins.

"Yes. I am a collector," Garcia managed to say. He was staring at the book as if it was a bomb now, so Castle was sure he was on the right track.

"Wow, that looks like some badass demon. I could use that for one of my books," Rick smiled and showed the page to Vi and Beckett.

"Stop rifling through the man's books, Castle," the detective snapped at him. She was probably mad because she knew as well as he did that the man was guilty, but saw no way to prove it. Yet.

Truth to be told, Castle wasn't certain they would be able to prove it at all - even if they caught the demon, it wasn't as if its testimony would be admissible in court. And not just because they'd kill it. Still, he took a picture of the page and the bookmark with his smartphone before they left.

*****​

"We've got the vic's phone. It was dropped at a pawnshop in Queens," Esposito announced as soon as the Castle, Beckett and Vi had returned to the bullpen of the 12th Precinct.

Ryan held up a smartphone, same model as Castle's, in a transparent ziplock. "And it looks like the killer accidentally took a picture of himself before getting rid of the phone. The timestamp wasn't doctored, and it's past the time of the murder."

"Why do I have the feeling that this is not as much of a breakthrough as it should be?" Beckett asked, narrowing her eyes at the two detectives, who had trouble hiding their amusement.

"That's because it's a demon's face!" Esposito announced, and handed the woman a print-out.

"That's a Mohra Demon!" Castle stated as soon as he had taken a look.

"That's a mask, Castle. The killer's trying to be funny. And he is about as successful as you, meaning, not at all," Beckett glared at him.

"No, really - I took a picture of the bookmarked page of the dmon tome of our grieving widower," Castle pulled out his own phone. "Check it out - it matches."

Three detectives peered at his phone, and then more or less grudgingly agreed that the pictures matched as much as a photo and a 400 years old illustration could.

"If that's a mask, it's not one you can buy in a store, but a custom job," Castle stated with conviction. The Council took care to discourage people from making masks that looked like real demons. No one wanted a Slayer to kill a human by mistake. One Finch was enough.

"Alright. Ryan, Esposito - track down anyone who can make custom monster masks," Beckett ordered. She probably was still slightly irked at the two for thinking this was funny.

"And anyone who bought the materials for one," Castle added, helpfully of course. "I've got a list of shops at home, I can mail it to you."

Judging by their expressions, they had an inkling that this would take a lot of time. Castle had seen Slayers looking less grumpy when told that they couldn't have two expensive swords that month. Well, one Slayer at least.

"Maybe you should go with them, Castle. You seem to be an expert on those matters," Beckett proposed.

"Good idea. I'll ask around a few friends of mine in the 'scene'," Castle readily agreed, probably surprising the woman. "I'll need a copy of the picture though."

Castle was sure the detective gave him the picture without making a fuss about evidence because she was appreciating his help and himself. Vi of course claimed the detective simply wanted to get rid of him as fast as possible.

It didn't matter - they'd visit Clark's.

On the way to the demon bar Castle sent the pic to London while Vi broke a few traffic laws again - an actual mask of a Mohra Demon would come in handy to nail the vic's husband later.
 
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New York, June 2009
New York, June 2009

"That the address?" Vi asked, hands stuffed in the pockets of her leather jacket as she studied the run-down house.

"According to the helpful Brachen Demon at Clark's, yes," Richard Castle answered. Helpful indeed - it had taken Vi no more than a few death threats and one broken nose to get the demon to spill just where he had referred a sword-wielding Mohra Demon to.

"Looks like a drug den," his Slayer commented, wrinkling her nose. "Smells like it too, only worse."

"Even demons need their fix," Castle stated, looking around for witnesses. He couldn't spot any. It didn't surprise him - humans tended to vanish near such dens. Then he took out his shotgun from under the seat and replaced the Dragon's Breath rounds with slugs. The fire-spewing ammunition wouldn't hurt a Mohra Demon, and buck shot would endanger Vi once she started fighting in melee. "It's just they're after a different kind of fix." He slipped the incendiary rounds in his pockets anyway, in case they encountered a vampire or two. The sun was still up, but that didn't mean some of the bloodsuckers wouldn't be around already.

Vi snorted. "Human blood and body parts."

"And kittens," Castle added. When he saw the look Vi shot him, he winced. Hopefully there wouldn't be any kittens around - he was certain at least half the budget of the local animal shelters came from his account. Of course he had to donate when the other choice was to see a kitten a Slayer had just rescued put to sleep for lack of funds. Letting such a thing happen wouldn't be conductive to his continued health. And if Alexis heard of it… he really should have played Kitten Poker before having a child. He still found the fact that so many demons liked to eat kittens that poker with live kittens as stakes had become a common pastime in demon bars incredibly amusing - in a completely sick way, of course.

He shook those unpleasant thoughts off and focused on slightly less unpleasant ones: How to crash a demon den. "I'll think we'll do it the 'Buffy Way', Vi," he said, and her face lit up with a feral smile. She liked the straight forward and simple approach more than having multiple entry locations and scouting beforehand, also known as 'the Xander Way'.

The Slayer got out of the car and strode towards the house. Castle followed, matching her stride but staying a few meters behind her. A homeless person sitting near the door watched them crossing the street. When they were about five meters away, the man opened his mouth to say something, but Vi cut him off with a throwing knife to the head. Castle saw the man's skin change to mottled grey after he had collapsed, revealing his demon nature.

Vi took the stairs to the front door two at a time, then kicked it open with barely a pause. Castle heard rising voices in alien languages inside - alerted by the sound of splintering wood, no doubt.

A Polgara Demon, blood dripping from his mouth, roared as it stormed out of what had been the first floor's apartment. From the smell of decay and rotten meat that hit Castle, it had been turned into a demon dinery. The monster stabbed at Vi with the skewers in its arms, but the redhead dropped to the ground in a textbook split. Castle had been waiting for that and shot the demon in the chest, driving it back and throwing it off-balance. Vi scissored her legs and swept the demon's feet out from underneath it, sending it crashing to the floor, throwing up dust and worse dirt. Before it could recover she had cut its head off with a short sword.

The redhead was on her feet a split second later, and charged into the apartment. Castle aimed his gun at the stairs leading up to the second floor. A vampire with its game face on appeared, and caught his next slug with its head. The lead hurt the vampire long enough for Rick to slip in two Dragon's Breath rounds into his gun. One of them filled the stairs with fire and set the demon ablaze. It wasn't as effective as his flamethrower, but it did the job for vampires. That one flailed for a few seconds before turning to dust. More screams were heard from above and to his side, but Castle stayed at the door, glancing inside.

Vi didn't seem to be having any trouble, she had taken out a Bug Demon and was fighting a Skilosh Demon. Castle didn't see anyone else, and focused on the stairs again. Behind him he heard a horrible screech, and Vi gleefully yell "Don't be like that, you've got two other eyes!" Another screech, and she laughed. "Make that one… and none!" A second after that, the monster's screech was cut off. Literally, Castle realized, when a pale white skull rolled across the room.

"I got another Dragon's Breath loaded," Rick told Vi when she joined him at the door again. His Slayer nodded, and went up the stairs, followed by him.

On the second floor, a Skin-Eating Demon faced them, its troll-like face showing needle sharp teeth. "Watch the nails, it can paralyze you!" Castle shouted as Vi charged it.

"I know!" she yelled, indignantly, before parrying one of its swipes with her sword. The demon was almost as fast as Castle had heard, but Vi had more experience, and the narrow hallway wasn't a good place to exploit its agility. The redhead managed to kick it in the ribs and slam it against the wall. Hissing, it tried to catch her in the shoulder with its nails, but she ducked, rolled over the floor, and came up next to it. The demon avoided her blade, but not the foot she hooked behind his feet, and stumbled. Vi caught one of its wrists before it could slash at her again, and cut its other hand off with her sword, before stabbing the now trapped demon to death with half a dozen blows.

"Ew. That's another ruined jacket," she complained, after realizing just how much of its blood had ended up on her.

A creaking sound from the third floor caught their attention, and Vi was on the stairs before Castle could react. He ran after her, cursing, but when he reached the top of the stairs, she had already caught her prey: An Ano-Movic demon trying to escape through the window with a makeshift rope.

The Slayer was holding up the battered demon against the wall, snarling. "He reeks of human blood!"

"I didn't kill anyone! I just prepared the meat and blood I was given! Spare me!" the demon pleaded, sobbing.

Castle took a look at the blood-spattered white apron and shirt the demon was wearing and blinked. "Did we just catch a demon chef?"

Vi shook the demon, slamming its head against the wall a few times to shut its wailing up. "Looks like it. At least this one isn't working in a diner."

"I told you: Never eat at cheap, suspicious restaurants. Always go for the classy ones," Castle shook his head. Vi really should have known better. Then he addressed their captive: "The moral and legal implications of your 'work' aside, we're looking for a Mohra Demon. Someone referred him to you."

"I haven't seen any Mohra Demon! Please, let me go! They forced me to do this, I have debts, and there was no other cho..Ow!" Vi shook it again, bouncing the back of its head off the wall.

Castle took a look inside the rooms on that floor, spotting two huge bags of salt. "Tell me another one. If you don't know any Mohra Demon, why do you have enough salt there to feed two of them?" It was expensive sea salt, at that. They were dealing with a gourmet demon!

The demon was whimpering, its human guise gone, as Vi tightened her grip on its arms.

Castle shook his head. "Cooking humans for demons. Lying to a Watcher and a Slayer. Covering for a murderer... it's not looking good for you."

The red-skinned demon started to wail again. Vi shut it up again. Neither Castle nor her liked demons involved in that kind of business. At all.

*****​

"Really wish we had backup," Castle muttered to himself. Ambushing a Mohra Demon didn't seem like a very smart idea. Ambushing it inside a demon diner only marginally improved it.

He heard a surprised shout from the basement, followed by Vi's cheerful "Another fangface!"

Well, there were some advantages at least - that was the third demon they had caught while waiting for their prey. Apparently the new management of the diner, and its imminent destruction by fire, hadn't made the rounds among the shadier part of New York's demon population yet.

His smartphone rang with Beckett's tone. "Yes?"

"Where are you, Castle?" She sounded more happy than annoyed, despite the brusque address.

"Checking out a new diner. Let me tell you, service here is terrible!"

"Ah. I just called to let you know we got a breakthrough - we tracked a money transfer from the victim's husband to a debit card not in his possession, which was used to rent a car and buy a dozen kittens. We're tracking the car now thanks to the rental agency's beacon." Now she sounded happy.

"Ah. That's great," Castle said. He sincerely hoped that the card belonged to Garcia's lover or child out of wedlock, and not to the Mohra Demon. But he knew the late cook of this demon dinery had been expecting a delivery of a dozen kittens as part of the price for the salt.

"Are you OK, Castle? I would have expected a comment about a crazy cat lady murderer, at least, or 'Kitten Poker'." Now the detective sounded as if she suspected something. Maybe he shouldn't have used that game in his books.

"Yes, I am just a bit distracted by the ambience here. It's a bit rowdy. Rough crowd, you know," he added, a bit lamely.

Vi came up from the basement and pointed at the front door, then at her ears. He closed his eyes and cursed internally.

"Maybe you should leave that diner then," Beckett stated, still in her interrogation voice. "Where are you, exactly?"

Before Castle could answer he heard the front door open, and what had to be a dozen kittens mewling.

"Are those kittens? Castle, where are you?" Beckett shouted.

"Oops, gotta go, Vi's starting a fight!" Castle shouted, and turned his phone off just when a Mohra Demon carrying a basket full of kittens entered the hallway.
 
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New York, June 2009
New York, June 2009

Richard Castle cursed, dropping his phone and raising his shotgun, but before he could shoot, he was hit by a basket full of mewling kittens and stumbled back two steps. Vi drew her pistol, but didn't manage to get more than one shot off - which missed the jewel in the monster's forehead - before she had to defend herself in melee against the demon's sword.

Castle threw the basket to the side, prompting the little beasts to yowl in protest, and aimed his shotgun, but he couldn't shoot without endangering Vi. The Slayer was getting driven back by the powerful blows of the demon, and Castle saw to his dismay that the sword was cutting through walls with ease - definitely enchanted. Vi was deflecting and redirecting the blows, but it was only a question of time until she either mistimed her parry, or her sword got shattered.

"Down!" Rick shouted, and pulled the trigger right after Vi had dropped to the floor. His slug hit the demon's chest and made it stagger, and his Slayer used the opportunity to kneecap it with two shots from her Glock. That wouldn't take the killer long to regenerate from, though. Vi rolled to the side and shoot at its head, but the demon shielded its face and jewel with its arms. Castle hit it again with another slug, but off-center - blood and bones splattered on the wall behind it, and the Mohra Demon howled, but the jewel was still intact.

Still shielding its forehead, it blindly struck out with its sword, and Vi had to duck again - only to get caught with the backswing in the shoulder. She dropped her pistol with a yell of pain, and her arm started to bleed heavily. Before the monster could strike another blow, Castle shot it again, driving it back a step, and Vi used the opportunity to get up and into a defensive stance.

Castle slipped a Dragon's Breath round in his shotgun and fired, followed by another slug, and the demon was set ablaze and knocked down while Vi scrambled past him into the first floor's apartment. He wanted to curse at her when she grabbed the basket of yowling kittens, almost dropping her sword in the process, but he was too busy slamming the door shut.

Then it was his turn to cry out in pain when the demon's sword went through the door as if it wasn't there and sliced his side open. If he hadn't been moving away already he would have been run through. He shot twice through the door, hopefully hitting the demon, and fell back towards the window, where Vi was headed.

"Throw them out!" he shouted, and for a moment the Slayer was hesitating, glaring at him as if he was the monster here, but then she complied, and the kittens went out of the window, mewling in panic. Castle was hot on his Slayer's heels, or as hot as he could be while bleeding and hurting, and managed to load another incendiary round into his shotgun while Vi climbed up on the windowsill.

The Monster broke through the door, bleeding from another hole in its chest. It didn't stop when it saw the drums of chemicals Castle and Vi had prepared to fake a meth lab explosion, so it probably wasn't as well integrated into the modern world as Castle had thought when he heard of it using debit cards and renting cars. Or maybe it was simply caught up in bloodlust.

Rick aimed his shotgun at an open drum with one hand and held his side with the other. He was about to utter a classic line straight from 'Predator' when he felt Vi grip his collar and heard her yell: "Just shoot already!"

So he did. His shotgun spat fire and Vi yanked him up and out of the window, wrapping herself around him while the room blew up and flames shot out of the windows, no matter if they had been boarded up or not. The sudden movement and the recoil almost caused him to lose his grip on his gun, but somehow he managed to keep it - until they landed on the street, hard.

Both Slayer and Watcher cried out when the rolled over the sidewalk, until they came to a stop in a tangled mess of limbs against the wreck of car, bleeding over each other. Behind them the building started to burn.

"That won't kill it," Vi stated while she got up. Despite her wounds and a useless, bleeding arm, the redhead was still moving gracefully.

Castle managed to sit up, coughing and spitting out some blood from where he had bitten his cheek on impact. "No, but it'll come close for a while." When Vi started towards the house, he yelled "Stop! You're wounded!"

She turned towards him, probably to say something about how she could still fight. Slayers were generally stubborn like that, worrying more about torn clothes and ruined shoes than torn flesh, and Vi was no exception. Before she could claim she was fine, a body flew out of the house and landed on the street. It was the Mohra Demon.

It looked like hell. Its clothes were burning, bone was visible on several spots on its skull, and what skin Castle could see was blackened and shriveled. But it was still moving. Towards them. And it still had its sword.

But it was slower now, much slower. And not as graceful - even for a demon it was hard to move with half its muscles burned off, Castle guessed. He was struggling to get up himself but his body was hurting all over, and his side...

Vi snarled and hefted her sword, her left arm still hanging down uselessly, and met the demon's attack. Castle, panting, could see it was a more even fight now - but the demon was visibly healing and Vi was not. Slayer healing was good, but not even close to the regeneration Mohra Demons had. They had to beat this monster now.

"Get clear!" he shouted, and Vio dove to the side. He fired, aiming low, at the demon's feet. His first shot missed, but Vi was clear now, and he racked another round into the chamber, yelling and cursing at the pain that caused to his side, and fired again. That one hit, and the monster went down, screaming with a mangled foot. He fired again, and again, until his whole side was covered with blood and the monster's feet had been turned into hamburger. Probably - it was getting hard to see what exactly he was shooting at.

Suddenly someone - Vi - ripped the gun out of his hands. He protested, but she was already turning away, aiming. Two more shots rang out, causing it to stop thrashing around. A short pause, then a third and fourth followed.

He was still blinking when Vi returned to his side. "I got the jewel then blew its head off. If we get the right coroner, we can cover… Rick!" She rushed to his side.

"Throw it into the house… we'll think of a story later…" Perlmutter could handle a burned demon corpse… couldn't he? It was hard to concentrate with his side hurting like that.

Then he heard sirens, coming closer. Vi pushed his jacket back to check his side. He yelled in pain again when she touched his wound. Nearby, tires squealed - someone was braking hard.

"Castle! What the… oh my god! We need an ambulance!" A short pause. "Two ambulances!" Beckett really had a nice voice, even when she was shouting and under stress.

"Keep the pressure on it, I'll get the kit from our car!" Vi yelled.

"What? You need help too!" Beckett had to be gaping, Castle thought. It was her first time with a wounded Slayer doing the Terminator routine. "Esposito! Ryan! Don't stare at the flames, we need help here!"

"It's just a flesh wound!" Vi claimed, and was already halfway to the Shelby.

Castle laughed - she finally said it! - then grimaced at the pain that caused.

"Hold still you damn fool!" Beckett all but screamed at him.

"I am not moving, just breathing," he responded, hissing through his clenched teeth. Maybe he should start carrying some pain killers with him… but the kind he'd need would lead to trouble if he was arrested, or searched. Another thought hit him. "Are the kittens alright?"

Beckett stared at him. "What?"

"My family would kill me if anything had happened to the kittens," Castle explained.

The detective was laughing incredulously and shaking her head. "I think you'll live if you can worry about cats."

"You haven't met my family yet," Castle retorted. "You'd worry about them too, if you had."

*****​

"That was absolutely foolhardy! You almost died! You almost got Vi killed!"

Furious Beckett hadn't a nice voice at all, Castle decided. And no manners - he was a patient in a hospital. He should be treated with more care!

"It was just a minor flesh wound," Vi, leaning against the wall, cut in. "Didn't even scar, see?"

"What? You were bleeding all over the street!" Beckett stared at the Slayer's arm, which had just a faint line left.

Figures, he thought - he had a dozen stitches and what felt like a gallon of blood and plasma poured into his veins, and the detective was fussing over the girl with supernatural healing. Males always got the short end of the stick.

Apparently, the redhead was convincing enough for Beckett to believe her, and the detective turned back to him. "What possessed you to try and catch the killer by yourself? How did you even find him?"

"We didn't find him, he found us. We had visited Ray to ask about swords, and heard of a sword a guy was trying to pawn off online. Ray said it had looked like an antique, but he wasn't about to check personally in that area. We were discussing the price with the druggie when the masked madman walked in. That set the meth head off, and in the ensuing firefight, someone must have shot through the door into what I think was a meth lab, and boom went the building. We managed to get out, but got cut up in the process. That guy was crazy, stabbing and slashing everywhere," Castle smiled weakly and tried to sound as honest as he could. The coroner's reports should cover them - as long as no one looked at the corpses and other evidence before it got disposed of - or replaced. And they didn't even have to fake some evidence - the financial trail had been enough to make the husband confess.

Beckett stared at him, her mouth forming a thin line. "I see. You were very lucky." Doubt was dripping from her words.

Castle nodded. "I'll promise, I won't do that again." Next time he'd do it differently. He didn't add 'mom', but judging from her expression, she suspected he had thought it.

The detective shook her head and scoffed, and Castle just knew this wasn't over yet.

He was really dreading her visit to his home now.
 
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New York, July 2009
New York, July 2009

Detective Kate Beckett stared at the wall in her apartment covered by notes and pictures - her own private 'Murder Wall'. The difference was that it didn't show the facts of a murder case, but all the information she knew about Richard 'Rick' Castle, bestselling author, playboy and amateur detective. It could have been a murder wall though. Not because she hadn't felt like shooting Castle more than once since she had met him a few months ago. In the leg, of course. Or maybe in his butt. Maybe then he'd stop being a pain in hers. No, it could have been a murder wall because Castle had almost been killed during her last case. And the circumstances that had led to his hospitalisation had been the reason for this collection. The man was hiding something, something that endangered himself, and others.

She pressed her lips together and studied the clues pinned to the wall. Too much simply didn't add up.

According to his biography, copied and pinned there on the left side, Castle, still using his original name of Rodgers, had moved from New York to London in 1989, to continue his studies. Though once there, he had changed his majors from English and History to Ancient Languages and Folklore. That explained his use of Sumeran and Etruscan languages in his books.

She glanced at the copy of 'The Vampire Hunter' on her sideboard. Once it had been one of her greatest treasures. Signed by her favorite author when she had been twelve. Now… well, he still was her favorite author. The man could write! He just wasn't her favorite person. Too arrogant, too meddling, too attractive. Too rich too. He was charming - very charming, she could admit it to herself at least, even Lanie liked him - but if he wasn't involved in something shady, she'd eat her badge back.

Beckett looked at the picture. A pretty redheaded woman, conservatively dressed.

Castle had worked as a librarian and married an English co-worker of his in 1993 - Mary Wilkinson. She had looked into the background of the woman a bit - Mary came from an old family, old money. That must have been quite a feat for an aspiring American writer, but as she could attest from personal experience, the man was very charming when he wasn't driving Beckett up a wall with his delusional theories. Though the fact that his daughter was born five months after the wedding had probably helped a lot.

She looked at the picture of a redheaded little girl smiling into the camera and holding up a 'Winner of the spelling bee' sign.

Alexis Castle. After his divorce in 1999, Richard got got custody of his daughter, or as he used to joke, she got custody of him. An adorable girl, as far as she could tell. Charming too - Beckett had not even thought about refusing her invitation when she had called her on the phone.

Beckett smiled at the memory, then grew serious again. She looked at the picture of a middle-aged woman. Martha Rodgers, actress and mother of Castle. Castle claimed Martha was even more irresponsible than he was, but Beckett couldn't really imagine that. as a single mother, with the father unknown, she probably had gone through a lot. Especially with Castle as a child.

Castle returned to New York in 1999 and moved in with his mother. A brief second marriage to his agent followed. It was a rebound relationship, Beckett guessed, with a spectacular divorce. It had some effects on Castle though - in the following years he started to rack up quite a paper trail with law enforcement. Six arrests in six years, but no convictions. Something one would expect of a rebellious youth, not a bestselling author and single father.

The detective frowned. Here was where it got suspicious.

The police files were sealed, which was unusual, but not too unusual for a rich, prominent friend of the Mayor. But she had spoken with some of the cops who had investigated those incidents. The arrests had been too cleanly cleared. Two cases they had been related to had all been solved, neatly. Nothing to implicate Castle, despite the pressure from above indicating something had to have been amiss.

Just like her last case. She looked at the pictures and notes pinned to the right edge of her wall.

Castle and his trophy bodyguard had been found, both wounded, in front of a burning house next to the car of a killer while carrying several weapons, including a pump-action shotgun and a pistol. That would have been enough to arrest them, at least as soon as the hospital cleared them, but by then the case had been solved. Perlmutter had been working overtime, and finished his report in record time. The killer they had been hunting had died in the burning house, just as Castle and O'Malley had claimed. Beckett had seen the pictures herself. His blade had been matched to the wounds too.

And yet she couldn't help asking herself: Why then had Castle lied to her on the phone, claiming he was in a diner with a rough crowd? It made no sense, unless he had not wanted her to find him. And while she'd believe he'd do that to catch the killer himself, he had not tried to take the spotlight in the cases before, despite the opportunity to do so. So, what had he been thinking?

She looked at the copies of the concealed carry permits she had pinned under the picture of the burning house.

It was obvious that he had friends in very high places, not just the Mayor. Otherwise he wouldn't have gotten those for himself and his redhead. And, even more suspicious, he was used to dangerous situations. Other than slipping into a British accent at times, he was cool under fire, and yet tried to hide it. She would have expected him to try to play it up, impress her with heroics, not downplay it. That was why he made up those delusional theories too, she was certain - to make him appear eccentric, harmless. And why his 'not girlfriend' acted like a bimbo at times.

The detective stared at the picture of a redheaded girl in a leather jacket and pants - what was it with Castle and redheads? - posing for the camera with a smirk.

Violet 'Vi' O'Malley. A 'friend of the family' who had been living next to Castle since she had moved to New York six years ago - at the age of 17. The implications of such a setup were disgusting; the girl was almost young enough to be his daughter. And yet they didn't feel like lovers, not even former lovers to her. But why else would a girl her age move in with a rich older man? Beckett would suspect a troubled home situation, but she hadn't found O'Malley's files.

She stared at the notes below the picture. Arrest records, as an adult. Several times, almost as often as Castle. Once together with him - and that the newspapers hadn't picked that up was a miracle. Also no convictions. No surprise, given how protective Castle was of her, even if he tried not to let it show. The oddities didn't stop there though. The girl was a maniac behind the wheel of a car, but drove as well, or better, than a professional race car driver, at least in Beckett's impression. She was also the best shot the detective had ever seen, and an expert in hand to hand combat. Good with, or at least very fond of, swords too. Javier was head over heels into her, he loved dangerous women, and the redhead was a dream come true. So far she hadn't returned his obvious advances, even though she had been flirting heavily with both him and Kevin.

Beckett rubbed her throat, the spot the girl had almost touched with her blade that time. Vi was quite cheeky too. Almost as annoying as Castle, just in a different way. How had the two met? Castle had mentioned a camping trip in California. But why would he have been a chaperone? Where was the connection? Who was that colleague of his who had been a chaperone as well?

Kate took a step back and looked at the entire wall. She knew she hadn't the full picture, but what she had wasn't painting a pretty picture. Whatever Castle was involved with, it was dangerous. And, if not illegal, then at least secret. If the idea wasn't ridiculous, she'd assume Castle was a secret agent, with Vi his leather-wearing ass-kicking partner. Like in 'The Avengers'. The British TV series, not the Marvel one. Castle even could do the British accent. Although… Vi would fit as Widow, and there was an obnoxious, rich, charming womanizing bastard in that series as well.

Kate checked her watch. It was almost time to leave, unless she wanted to be late for her invitation for dinner with the Castle family. She checked herself in the mirror one last time. The cocktail dress looked very nice, if she did say so herself. She might even be a bit overdressed for the occasion. But if she was going to dine with a rich bestselling author she might find attractive if he wasn't involved in shady things and too reckless for his own good, then she certainly wouldn't be shown up by his 'not-girlfriend'!
 
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New York, July 2009
New York, July 2009

Richard Castle certainly was living in a nice house, Kate Beckett thought as she stepped out of the cab, but she would have expected something a bit more ostentatious. It was almost discreet, if one forgot about the prices for such real estate in Manhattan. She was quite curious though if the author's apartment itself would be decorated in a less understated way. Castle had a reputation as a womanizer, and an impressive bachelor's pad would certainly help with the kind of women he seemed to be looking for.

The large mirror opposite the door to Castle's apartment was a surprise though. Or not. While the detective could imagine a bimbo or gold digger using them to check their appearance one last time, it would also allow anyone inside to check the hallway for an ambush - and harder to spoof than cameras.

She shook her head at her own thoughts. She was getting paranoid. Next she'd expect remote-controlled weapons hidden in the ceiling, and then? Sharks with lasers on their heads? Grinning at herself, she rang.

She waited longer than expected before the door was opened by a widely smiling teenager she recognized as Castle's daughter. She was wearing a nice but far from fancy dress, and Kate was suddenly fearing she was a bit overdressed.

"Hi Detective Beckett! I am so glad you could make it!" Alexis Castle beamed at her, then stepped aside.

Kate raised an eyebrow at the lack of an invitation, then smiled. It was like in Castle's books. "Do you suspect I could be a vampire?" she joked.

Alexis shook her head. "No, you'd not have a reflection if that was the case."

"Good point." Beckett chuckled, and stepped inside. She noticed that the door was far thicker than she would have expected. Castle apparently could take his security seriously, when he was not trying to fight killers on his own. On second thought, he doted on his daughter, and was probably worried about a kidnapping.

The flat was stylishly furnished. Castle had to have spent a small fortune on an interior decorator's budget. The sword hanging on the wall next to the door took her by surprise, though.

The redhead had noticed her reaction, and nodded at the blade. "That's a German longsword, 13th century."

That sounded expensive, Kate thought. It seemed as if Vi wasn't the only one to collect swords. She didn't comment on the wisdom of having such a weapon ready to be drawn in an apartment. That would have been rude. Then she saw the other weapons on the walls.

"Detective Beckett! Welcome to my humble abode!" Castle, wearing slacks and a shirt, threw an apron on a chair in the kitchen area and walked over to her, shaking her hand.

"Humble?" Beckett asked, with her eyebrows raised, and making a show of looking around.

"Compared to my ex-wife's mansion, it is quite humble," the author explained. "I try to live more sensibly than her."

"That would be more believable if you hadn't ensured that your house in the Hamptons was as big as Mary's mansion, Kiddo," a middle-aged woman cut in, descending from the upper floor with both grace and a rather dramatic flair. "Martha Rodgers," she stated while extending her hand. She was wearing stylish but comfortable clothes.

Kate smirked at the betrayed look Castle shot at his mother, and at the giggling from his daughter, and shook the actress's hand. "Kate Beckett."

"It's a pleasure to finally meet the famous Detective that has my son so worked up," the older woman smiled

"Mother!" Castle sounded indignant. "As I mentioned before, you already met her at my last book launching party."

"Only you would think that getting arrested counts as meeting someone, Richard. I don't know why though, I certainly raised you better." Martha sighed dramatically.

"You didn't raise me at all. And I wasn't arrested, I was asked to help with an investigation!" Castle glared at the woman, and probably would have said something else, if not for a beeping noise from the kitchen. "Oh, the hors d'oeuvres are ready!" With that, the man left.

Beckett smiled. This evening was turning out to be far more entertaining than she had thought and hoped for. Then she noticed that both Castle's mother and daughter were turning towards the door. She looked back as well, just when the door opened and Violet O'Malley entered.

"Right on time for the food," Alexis whispered next to Kate.

"Hi Detective!" the redhead waved to her, then ruffled Alexis hair and kissed Martha on the cheek. Unlike Castle's family, the redhead had dressed up a tad. Her dress looked both too sexy for the occasion, and too expensive. Kate didn't think she was overdressed anymore though.

They shook hands as well, and Kate smiled both friendly and politely. "Good evening, Miss O'Malley."

"Call me Vi!" the girl said. "Miss O'Malley makes me feel far too old."

Kate's smile grew a bit forced at the barb. "Call me Kate then. But I assure you, you're far more likely to be seen as too young than as too old." She smiled when she spotted the redhead twitching at that.

"Shall we sit down?" Alexis, showing a slightly fake looking smile herself, pointed at the large couch with matching seats in the middle of the living room. "Dad is ready with the bruscetti."

"My own recipe," Castle declared proudly as he set the tray down on the couch table, next to the glasses already filled with wine - and, presumably for Alexis, water. Vi reached out, and he slapped her hand away. "Guests first, Vi."

"Technically, I am a guest too!" the redhead retorted, with a hungry look at the snacks.

"You're part of the family," Castle told her, which seemed to placate her. He turned his attention to Kate. "Please try some before the vacuum cleaner inhales the rest," he said, and handed her a glass of wine at the same time.

Kate hadn't known Castle could cook - but then again, he was a single father. The bruschetti did look different from those she was used too. They were very good though, and she made appreciative noises as she ate one. "Very good," she added, after swallowing, and smiled at her host. The wine was great too, but then, that was to be expected from a rich author.

Castle beamed at her while the three redheads reached for the tray. Beckett was about to comment on the recipe when she noticed just how fast and how much Vi was eating. "Should I be worried about the main course, if she's eating that many of the hors d'oeuvres?"

Castle sent a glare at the redhead in question, whose innocent expression was hampered a bit by her stuffed cheeks, and answered: "No. She's just a glutton." The innocent expression turned into a scowl.

"Dad!" Alexis scolded him. "Vi's an active woman and a healthy eater, not a glutton!"

Vi nodded. "It's not my fault I burn calories like no one else." The smug smirk showed though that she seemed to be very glad about it. Unless she was bulimic - but the girl did look too athletic to have an eating disorder.

Beckett had been a bit surprised by the number of crosses on display. Looking to change the topic, she nodded at an ornate one on the wall. "Is that the model for the cross used in 'Winter Raid', or did you buy it after the book was written?"

"Well spotted!" Castle beamed at her. "I had it before I wrote the book. It's an antique, made for the abbot of Saint Gall in the 14th century. It keeps vampires at bay."

"That must come in very handy," Kate commented in a very dry tone. "With vampires being such a widespread threat."

For a moment, no one said anything, then Castle laughed, a bit forcedly, followed by the others. "It's too heavy to carry around, it's more of a deterrent." He stood up. "Let me give you the tour, now that Vi is not about to raid the kitchen for at least half an hour."

"You mean the lasagna won't be ready until then?" Vi looked as if Castle had just announced her dog had died. Or her sword collection had been confiscated. The man ignored her whining though, and gestured at Beckett to follow him.

Apart from the plethora of ancient but very functional weapons on display all around the flat - even Alexis had a sword and crossbow on her room's wall, and judging by the fencing gear stored in the corner there, she might even be able to use the blade - and the four hundred years old tome on demons on the girl's bed, the flat looked normal to Beckett. Normal for an apartment usually featured in magazines detailing the lifestyles of the rich and famous, of course.

That was until Castle opened the door to his office. "Here's where I write my books! My sanctum sanctorum, so to speak." Kate had to restrain herself from gaping, and from squealing as if she was still twelve years old. The office, if one could call the large library that, was filled with books of all kinds, more weapons - a lot more - and all sorts of props! Tons of old books, with exotic covers, lined the shelves. There were dozens of stakes, bandoliers holding holy water vials, the blunderbuss from 'The Master of Munich', the two-handed sword that took the the demon's head in 'Direwolf'... Castle had even a couple 'Vampire Hunter' leather armor suits on display! They were of a much better quality than her own costume at home, if a tad more revealing as well.

Matter of fact, now that she took closer looks, with the exception of those armor suits, all those 'props' looked far too functional, and far too old, for replicas. "So, you really used actual weapons as models for the ones mentioned in your book!"

Castle acted as if offended, but he was grinning as he took up a saber. "My dear detective, I took care to get all the details right for my fighting scenes." He demonstrated a few moves with the saber. Kate realized that he could fence as well.

"With the exception of the fake trophies," she pointed out, staring at what looked like a demon skull on the wall.

Castle actually pouted. "I have it on good authority that this is an authentic hellhound skull."

"Of course," Kate rolled her eyes at the man's antics. Who did he think he was fooling with his eccentric act? "Where did you get it from then?"

"Ah, it was a gift from Vi," Castle answered. "Though I kind of paid for it."

She wasn't surprised by that admission. If only she could tell if Castle was taking advantage of an impressionable young woman, or if the redhead was a gold digger taking advantage of a man old enough to be her father. They were far too close for a purely professional relationship, after all. "You never told me how the two of you met," she said.

"I did, actually. I was acting as a chaperone on a camping trip in California, and she was one of my charges." Castle smiled.

"Ah. I thought you had known her before the trip."

"No, I was drafted by a colleague while I was in California on business."

"A fellow author?"

"No, a fellow librarian. I worked for years at a private library in London. It was a surprise to meet him in California, and before I knew it, I was overseeing a bunch of teenagers. One of the scariest experiences of my life."

Kate raised her eyebrows at him. "Scarier than getting attacked by a crazy killer in a demon mask?"

Castle nodded solemnly. "You should see Vi when she's drunk and hungry. Vampires run away screaming in fear from her!"

"I heard that!" Vi glared at him from the door. "You need to check on the Lasagna, Rick," she added.

Castle frowned. "It shouldn't be time yet..." he looked at the woman. "You didn't fiddle with the oven again, did you?"

"No!" Vi shook her head.

Castle sighed. "I think I have to leave you for a bit to make sure the meal's coming along on schedule."

"Of course," Beckett nodded at him.

The author left for the kitchen, and Vi waved at her. "Come on, join the rest of us while he saves our dinner."

Kate would have liked to nose around a bit, but she couldn't very well tell that to Vi, and so found herself back on the couch, facing Castle's daughter, mother and 'not-girlfriend', as he put it.

Alexis smiled widely at her, a bit too widely, Kate thought. "So, Detective, please tell us a bit about yourself! We're very curious about the woman that is the inspiration for my dad's new book!"

Both Martha and Vi leaned forward with eager expressions, and Kate realized with a sinking feeling that this evening was turning into an interrogation. And it wasn't her asking the questions.
 
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New York, July 2009
New York, July 2009

"There's not much to tell, really. I am a detective in the Homicide Squad of the 12th Precinct. Which you already know, of course." Kate Beckett smiled a bit weakly and tried to ignore the chuckling from Vi.

"Yes, we know that. But what are your hobbies?" Alexis asked eagerly. "What do you do when you're not hunting murderers?"

"Are you single?" Martha asked before Beckett could even think of answering.

"Are you interested in Castle?" Vi grinned.

"What?" Beckett stared at the three redheads.

"Vi!" Alexis glared at the older girl. For a moment, Beckett relaxed. Until Castle's daughter continued. "Dad wouldn't chase her if she wasn't single!"

"Pardon?" Beckett was staring at the two girls

"Sure he would! Don't you remember Becky?" Vi responded with a grin.

"She doesn't count - she was chasing him!" Alexis declared.

"Girls!" Martha Rodgers interrupted the brewing argument. "We're here to find out more about the Detective, not to go over my son's past conquests."

At that point Beckett realized that insanity had to run in the family.

*****​

When Castle returned from the kitchen, glaring at Vi for 'almost ruining the lasagna with her impatience', the three redheads had managed to get Kate to reveal that she liked comics and fantasy novels as well as baseball, and that she was currently single. Before this inquisition, Kate wouldn't have expected to feel relieved at Castle being present, but even his wild theories and flirting remarks were vastly preferably to getting grilled about her personal life. Or lack thereof.

"I hope my family hasn't been too rude, Detective. They are a bit overly enthusiastic in their desire to get to know a guest." The author smiled at her and glared at the three others while he sat down again.

"Oh, no. We've just been chatting," Beckett reassured him. He didn't seem to believe her though, since he glared at the three again.

"She's made it through stage one," Vi declared.

"Stage one?" Beckett asked.

Castle sighed. "My family likes to meet my friends and acquaintances, and give them the third degree. 'Stage one' apparently means the time until dinner starts. Stage two is the dinner itself, stage three dessert. Or just desserts, as they call it."

"Your 'friends and acquaintances'?" Beckett raised her eyebrows at the man. It sounded like an euphemism for something else to her.

"Well, I do not think I am being presumptuous when I assume we're at least acquaintances, seeing as we've survived a number of dangerous situations together," Castle smiled at her with that expression of his that both attracted and infuriated her.

"Not as many as we've been through, but it's a start," Vi commented, with an overly friendly smile that raised the hackles of Beckett. "And of course you had me to help you out."

"Oh, yes. Where would I be without your help?" Castle snarked with a glare at his 'bodyguard'.

"Dead and buried, of course," Vi retorted. Judging by the subtle reactions around Beckett - Alexis wincing, Martha refilling her glass with less than her usual grace - the redhead's remark didn't seem to be blown much out of proportion. And yet nothing in the police computers mentioned incidents that would fit that.

"But I might be happily married and dead and buried," Castle responded.

"Pf!" Vi scoffed, after finishing off her fourth canapé, half of those Castle had brought with him from the kitchen. "You'd be poor from all the divorces."

Alexis nodded in agreement, with an expression of long suffering on her face. "Dad's been a bit unlucky with women since he and mum divorced."

"Your mother lives in England, doesn't she?" Beckett asked, using the opportunity to find out more about Castle's past.

"Yes. Mary was born and bred in England. Like an English bulldog," Castle answered.

"Dad!" Alexis scolded him. Turning to Beckett, she forced a smile. "Dad and Mum didn't part on good terms. Both still carry a grudge."

"She's very British, very stuffy, very distant. And I'm not." Castle cut in, again.

"Oh? When I met her I didn't have that impression of her. She was very open and friendly," Beckett said. When everyone stared at her she realized she shouldn't have mentioned that,

"You have met Mary?" Castle was gaping at her. "Whatever she said about me, don't believe her!"

"Dad!" Alexis scowled at her father, something that Beckett realized the girl probably was likely doing very often.

"Ah… She showed me how to use a crossbow," Beckett started to explain, since everyone else was still staring at her. To her surprise, the mood grew very tense. Vi shifted a bit, and for a moment, Beckett felt like the redhead was about to attack her - and she had no idea why. "It was almost 20 years ago?"

Then Castle snapped his fingers. "1991! The Lunarians in New York! You were the girl asking me to sign my first book!" He sounded delighted. "You were such a cute twelve year old! My number one fan! 'Beckett, with two 't's at the end'" he quoted her.

Kate blushed at the memory while everyone smiled.

Vi smirked. "Wow, to think you've known him 20 years ago." Somehow she managed to make the innocent remark sound like a dig at Kate's age. Or maybe Kate was seeing things - no one else seemed to react to it.

Castle's smile grew wider. "I remember your mother too. How is she doing?"

Beckett's face froze for a moment as the pain of that loss affected her again. "She was killed ten years ago," she answered.

"Oh."

For a moment, everyone avoided looking at her. Then Alexis spoke up. "My mum's parents were killed too, six years ago."

That was something Beckett hadn't known, and the desire to find out more, to do anything but dwell on her own loss, was stronger than the shame at trying to exploit a young girl's attempt to show compassion. "That must have been a heavy blow."

Alexis nodded. "Yes. For a while we even feared mum had died as well. We hadn't gotten any news, until she appeared at our doorstep."

Beckett blinked. That sounded… how could that have happened… six years ago? Her eyes widened. "The London bombing?" She noticed the looks Castle shot at his daughter. Another clue she couldn't yet make sense of.

Everyone nodded somberly, even Vi. Kate was almost reeling from the implications of what she had heard. Castle's in-laws had been killed by terrorists. And he had assumed his ex-wife had been killed as well. She hadn't, but she didn't call him, or her daughter, to let them know she was alive. Instead she traveled to New York? To Castle? As much as she didn't want to admit it, that just screamed "secret agent" to her. She was glad no one spoke for a bit, it allowed her to compose herself.

"Do you see your mother often?" Kate tried to steer the conversation away from terrorism. It wouldn't do to make them think she was prying. Even if she was.

"Not too often," Alexis grimaced.

"Mary's best experienced in small doses," Castle snarked, then cringed when everyone glared at him.

"After my grandparents died, I spent the summer with mum, at our 'ancestral mansion'. She wanted to make sure I hadn't grown too 'colonial'." Alexis explained.

"And I spent years to undo the damage!" Apparently Castle couldn't let anyone else talk for longer than one sentence without voicing his own opinion, Kate thought.

"But I am glad to have grown up in England and New York. I've got friends here and there." Alexis and the others seemed to ignore her father now, a skill Kate had yet to learn. "I am not sure yet which college I will be going to, after high school. England got some very good schools."

Castle frowned at that, but didn't say anything after a glare from Vi.

Martha chuckled. "Richard was thrown out of so many schools, a dozen have tried to claim him as an alumni after he became rich and famous."

"Bloody parasites," Castle mumbled under his breath.

"I am sure they had very good reasons to throw him out," Kate stated, and once again everyone but Castle smirked or laughed while agreeing.

Castle's comeback was prevented by the oven starting to beep, and he disappeared in the kitchen again.

"We should move to the table now," Martha stated while she rose from her seat. "For all his faults, Richard can cook."

Alexis nodded. "And he can even cook enough to feed Vi and us all."

Beckett couldn't help feeling that the two, for all their snarking and teasing of Castle, were trying to portray him in the best light possible.

She didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing. And she didn't know what Vi thought about that.

*****​

Martha and Alexis hadn't lied, the lasagna was excellent, and Castle basked in the praise from everyone. Short praise, of course, since everyone was digging in. Especially Vi. Beckett was certain now that the girl had to have some eating or other disorder, since no one else seemed to consider the fact that she was eating as much as everyone else put together unusual.

"I bet you had a crush on Castle as a little girl!" the redhead said while filling her plate for the fifth time.

"Well, so did you," Kate responded with a wide, toothy smile. "Didn't he have to flee from you when you got drunk on that camping trip?"

"Camping trip?" Alexis asked.

"You know, to California;" Castle quickly said, looking at his daughter.

"Ah, that camping trip, yes. I remember now," the girl nodded.

"Were you there as well?" Kate asked. It wasn't unheard of for chaperones to bring their own kids with them, but after seeing Castle's reaction to Alexis's question, she was quite certain now that this 'camping trip' had not been a simple camping trip. Maybe a mission for secret agent Castle? As ludicrous that still sounded. But they were hiding something, something big.

"No, I stayed in New York, with gran."

"Ah. When was that? Some summers, the weather in New York was much better than California's." Kate smiled. "At least I keep telling myself that when a friend of mine calls from San Diego."

Alexis nodded. "We usually go to the Hamptons in summer. We've a house there."

Martha had mentioned that house already, Kate remembered. It was probably more like a mansion. And she noticed that the girl hadn't answered her question.

"So, since you like dad's books, what do you think about magic?" Alexis changed the topic.

"Magic?" Beckett was surprised at the question. "Well, I like stage magic. My father used to bring me to the famous 'Drake's Magic Shop' after school. The tricks there were so good, sometimes it looked like real magic…" she smiled, remembering the good times then. Before her father had found solace in a bottle. She almost missed the frowns and looks that were exchanged at the table. "Do you believe in magic?"

"Many friends of mine are wicca," Alexis stated. Vi nodded in a way that left no doubt that talking about superstitions wouldn't be welcome there. Beckett wouldn't have expected a girl as bright as Alexis to believe in such things. Or at least believe in her friends strong enough to take offense on their behalf.

"Are you a wicca?" she addressed Vi.

"No. But I respect their beliefs," the redhead answered, meeting her eyes with a challenging stare.

"She doesn't want to be turned into a rat," Castle cut in. Again the reactions to his joke were just a bit off, and Beckett wondered what 'turned into a rat' stood for.

"The big bad bodyguard, afraid of curses?" she put just enough amusement in her tone to make it sting a bit.

"I am not afraid of anything. I can beat anyone, anywhere, with or without a weapon," Vi boasted.

"Not Buffy though. Or Faith." Alexis smirked.

"No one can beat them, so they don't count," the woman responded, glaring at the teenager.

"With a name like 'Buffy', she probably had to learn fighting to survive the teasing in school," Kate observed.

Everyone laughed, more than she thought her joke deserved. Again she was missing something, and didn't know what. She added 'Buffy' and 'Faith' to her list of things to investigate.

By then even Vi had finished eating, and she and Alexis put the dishes into the dishwater while Castle fetched the dessert. That left Kate with Martha. "You've got quite a tight-knit family there," she said, more to just say something.

"Yes. Vi fits in so well, most think she's related by blood to us." Martha nodded at the two younger girls. Vi was trying to grab some dessert early, and Alexis was doing her best to prevent it.

Kate decided to use the opportunity to ask something she had wanted to ask for some time. "Most would expect something else, given her closeness to Castle."

For a moment, the other woman seemed almost angry, but then she smiled warmly. Kate reminded herself that the woman was an experienced actress. "Oh, those kind of rumors are not new, and wrong. They never were a couple."

"She was attracted to him though," Kate countered.

"Oh, that was a special situation. It never happened again." Martha made a dismissive gesture.

"She stopped drinking?" Kate couldn't prevent herself from sounding snarkier than she had planned to. The woman, girl, was almost as big a pain in her butt as Castle, and lacked his charm. At least as she was concerned.

"As I said, those special circumstances never happened again," Martha stated, in a tone that brooked no further discussion.

Then Castle returned with the dessert, pursued by the two younger redheads, and they started to talk about less personal topics. Like baseball. Kate did notice though that Vi seemed to smirk at her even more than before. As if she had overheard her brief talk with Martha. That wasn't possible though. On the other hand, she might have been able to read lips.

After baseball, a spectacular tiramisu, and excellent coffee made from beans that probably cost more than Kate wanted to know, embarrassing stories from Castle's and Alexis's childhood were told and talked about. Martha claimed Castle hadn't ever reached his maturity, and Kate readily agreed with her, and time flew.

At the door, saying her goodbye, When it was time to leave, after, Beckett, feeling just a bit lightheaded, asked Alexis "So, did I pass stage two and three?"

"Yes!" the girl exclaimed. "You've got the Castle seal of approval. Dad can date you now."

"What?" Beckett stared at her.

"Alexis!" Castle gasped.

Vi and Martha laughed.

Beckett later told herself that hadn't quite fled, she simply hadn't delayed her departure. It was obvious that insanity ran in that family, and she was not quite certain it wasn't contagious. Maybe Vi had been a normal girl before she had met Castle.

That didn't bode well for her own sanity - after all, she was almost convinced Castle was a secret agent.
 
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New York, July 2009
New York, July 2009

Detective Kate Beckett sat at her desk, a report in front of her, but if asked, she wouldn't be able to say anything about its content. Her mind was still trying to make sense of what she knew about Rick Castle, bestselling author, charming pain in her butt - and possible secret agent.

It still was ludicrous, but the facts she knew didn't make sense otherwise. They still didn't make that much sense, but it was the best she could have come up with, no matter how much she hated the idea. She still wasn't certain if her dislike stemmed from the fact that for it to be true, it would mean that Castle had been fooling her ever since they had met, with his delusional theories about demons and magic. But then, his mother was an actress, so he likely had at least some talent for acting as well.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, sighing.

"Was the dinner with Castle's family that terrible?" Kevin's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"No, no. The food was great," she answered. "I'm just … lost in thoughts." She noticed Kevin exchanging a look with Javier, and narrowed her eyes at her colleagues. "What?"

"Nothing!" Kevin held his hands up in a placating gesture, and Javier winced. She must have let some of her frustration show. Good - she could use that.

Kate stood up and walked towards them. "I'll ask again: What?"

Kevin grimaced. "Javier had the thought, totally far-fetched, of course…"

"Hey! Don't blame me, you agreed!" Esposito spoke up.

"What did you agree with or to?" Kate spat the words out.

"Well… did anything happen between you and Castle? You had the look of a woman, well…"

Kate cut the babbling detective off. "Nothing happened! I had dinner with his family, it was a very nice evening, with his family. That's all."

"So, you met his family." Javier managed to pack all sorts of lurid meanings into his simple sentence.

"Yes," Kate answered, rolling her eyes. "His mother, his daughter, and Vi."

"Vi's part of his family?" Now the detective sounded aghast. Kate knew he had fallen head over heels for Vi, but the redhead hadn't exactly returned the feeling - though neither had she rejected him.

"Family in all but blood, as the saying goes. They're very close," Kate added, watching with hidden glee as Javier's face fell. Tried to insinuate she had been seduced and left by Castle, did he?

"So, what did you talk about? Geeked out over his books, or did he talk about his art and wine collection?" Kevin asked.

That earned him an eye rolling too. "He doesn't have much of an art collection. He mainly seems to collect antiques - weapons. I've never seen that many swords and crossbows in one place outside a museum."

"He has a toy collection, and he still lives with his mother…" Javier nodded to himself.

"Trying to convince yourself you've got a chance with Vi?" Kevin looked at his partner.

The other man glared at him. "He's clearly after Beckett, so Vi will look for greener pastures."

"Or she'll kill him." Kevin retorted dryly.

"Javier… are you really basing your hope on Castle seducing me?" she asked, sighing. "Don't answer that. Let's get back to work before the Captain notices we're discussing Javier's love life instead of working."

"And yours!" Kevin added right when he left.

"I feel like I'm back in highschool," Kate muttered, and took up her file again. Then she checked her watch. Another hour until she could call her friend in San Diego.

*****​

A week later, back home, Kate was staring at her 'Castle Wall" while eating Chinese take-out.

The 'Camping Trip' investigation was producing even more disturbing results than she had expected. Castle had broken his leg on that trip, that much she had found out. The yellow press had mentioned that - 'Author convalescing in the Hamptons'. But they hadn't mentioned just where Castle had gotten injured. But another article in the same issue, 'Sunnydale refugees recovering in the Hamptons', mentioned that Castle was among those who had taken in some of the 'traumatized survivors of the sinkhole catastrophe'.

Sunnydale. The town that disappeared in a sinkhole six years ago. An event no one had managed to find an acceptable explanation for. For a while, day tv talkshows could keep their ratings going just by inviting conspiracy theorists and geologists. Or just geologists. Who would have thought academics could become so violent?

She shoveled another fork of noodles into her mouth, without tasting anything.

Castle broke his leg right around the time the 'Sunnydale Sinkhole' took place. And then harbored refugees from the town in his summer residence, while he was recovering himself. Of course, he could have just been in California, saw their plight, and, moved, took it upon him to invite a few of them to his house. Quite attractive refugees, according to that picture. Strange that an author surrounding himself with pretty co-eds hadn't made waves back then. Another sign of influence one would not expect from a mere author?

Kate blinked and took out her magnifying glass.

That girl in the background… with the red hair… Vi! But Vi was from the East Coast. She was just on a camping trip, she didn't live in Sunnydale. Why would she be with Castle in his house, and not back with her parents? Parents who had reported a break-in a few months before. Someone had smashed their front door, and the police report mentioned a struggle in the house. Nothing ever came of it, and according to the report, their daughter was already on a camping trip when it happened. That would have been a very long camping trip then - several months long.

There was one explanation, the one everyone thought of, but Kate was now rather certain that Castle wasn't lying when he claimed the girl wasn't his girlfriend. She wasn't quite as sure that Vi didn't want to be his girlfriend though. And she didn't know at all how she felt about the whole thing… she buried that thought and forced herself to focus to the investigation.

The break-in had taken place right around the time the London bombing happened. A mid-eastern group had claimed responsibility, and to the surprise of many experts who considered the claim a lie, the British government destroyed said group months later in Iraq, then declared the matter solved. No survivors.

A bombing that sent Mary Wilkinson to New York, without telling anyone. Not even her daughter, who thought she was dead like her grandparents. And right afterwards, Castle left for a camping trip. With his ex-wife. To California. Where he met Vi, broke his leg, and returned right after a town had vanished in a sinkhole. And his ex-wife? She was admitted to a hospital a few days before that, in L.A., after 'falling down the stairs and landing on a poker that speared her leg'. And she was in with a few more injured women and girls, one of whom vanished from the hospital despite serious injuries the next day. Most of them were residents of Sunnydale at the time, according to the data her friend had gotten her.

Kate rubbed her chin. She was close, she felt it. The same gut feeling she sometimes got during a case.

Sunnydale. Castle had been in Sunnydale when it vanished. Nothing else made sense. And he never spoke of it, not even when Javier was telling war stories from Iraq to impress Vi. So, either he was traumatized by the experience, or he had something to hide. And he didn't appear to be traumatized. And neither did Vi look particularly traumatized. She was just crazy. Vi. Very good at fighting, and driving. Far better than anyone Kate knew. And she was working as a bodyguard for a fantasy author, instead of getting hired by a government agency. Unless she was working for a government agency. With Castle. And his ex-wife. And was on a mission in Sunnydale.

Kate pushed the container with her now cold food away and stood up.

Sunnydale. The heart of dozens, hundreds of conspiracy theories. From secret military experiments to aliens and demons invading the town. The stories that surfaced after the town vanished in a sinkhole were so fantastic, even the Onion didn't print them. But one thing was clear: The town had been evacuated in the weeks before the event. The number of victims was far too low for this not to have happened.

The detective felt a chill run down her spine when she realized what that meant: Someone had known it could happen. Or would happen. There were theories that claimed that a nuke, detonated at the right spot along a fault line, could cause such a sinkhole. Crackpots, disproved by established geologists. But what if that was a cover-up? What if the government had been aware of such plans, and had sent agents to deal with it?

She closed her eyes. She couldn't deny the evidence any longer. The skills, the experience, the facade of an eccentric, the way his family kept talking around certain things, the friends in high places, the British connection…

Castle and Vi were the Avengers.

She sighed. John Steed was hitting on her. Or rather, James Bond - Castle certainly had the reputation. How did she deserve that?

Then her eyes shot open as another, even more terrifying thought shot through her mind. If Castle and Vi were agents involved in things like the Sunnydale Sinkhole… why were they following her around?

What was going on in New York that required the presence of them?

She didn't think she'd like the answer, but she knew she'd get it. And she knew where she'd get it.

She grabbed her coat and left her apartment. She had a secret agent to interrogate.
 
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New York, July 2009
New York, July 2009

"I'm getting too old for this," Richard 'Rick' Castle muttered when he got out of his car. He hadn't healed up fully from the beating he had taken fighting the Mohra Demon - unlike a redheaded girl of his acquaintance with supernatural healing - and stumbling around in the dark in an old warehouse, almost crashing through a rotten floor, hadn't helped. He had gotten away with a twisted ankle and bruised wrist - his Slayer hadn't been that gentle when she had pulled him back before he fell - and counted himself lucky. That warehouse had to have been cursed or something. And to add insult to injury, the suspicious activity they had been investigating had turned out to have been an art project using the materials left there, not some attempt to fabricate a statue for demonic posssession.

"Too old for what? Getting saved by your gorgeous bodyguard?" Violet 'Vi' O'Malley said, leaning over the hood of his Shelby.

Castle shot her a glare, which, as usual, didn't impress New York's resident Slayer at all.

"You're not old. You're just coming into your prime. In Ancient Rome, you'd still be too young to be elected as a Consul," Vi beamed at him. She did grab her and his weapon bags though. Castle would have protested, if his wrist hadn't been hurting more than his male pride.

"I see you've been studying with Alexis," he commented when they reached the elevator. This time she did cringe. As she should for conspiring with his daughter against her Watcher.

Vi rallied quickly though. "Did you really think she'd not follow in yours and her mother's footsteps?" she asked, looking at him as if he was at fault.

"I worry about her. Mary and myself, we almost died several times. What father would I be if I didn't want to protect my my daughter from that?" He sighed.

Vi rolled her eyes at him. "What father would you be if you wanted to run her life for her, no matter what she wanted?"

"A typical one?" he grinned at the redhead, even though he didn't feel like joking.

She didn't seem to think it was funny either and glared at him. He held up his hands. "I know, I know… I am a hypocritical fossil. I can't help worrying for her though. Or for you," he added under his breath.

He knew she had heard him - Slayer hearing was just that good - but other than a faint smile, she didn't react to his comment.

They arrived on their floor when Castle's smartphone vibrated - he had gotten a message. Since Vi was playing pack mule, he had a non-bruised hand free and checked it. It was from Alexis.

BECKETT HERE. ANGRY.

Rupert would have said 'Dear Lord'. Rick hadn't lived in England since ten years though, and was less restrained.

"Fuck."

*****​

"Honey, we're home!" Castle announced, as he and Vi entered his apartment. He spotted Beckett at once - she was already standing, and moving towards him. The detective was still wearing her coat too. Alexis was standing next to the couch, grimacing at him behind the woman's back.

"Detective Beckett! What a delightful surprise at … this late hour?" He tried to add just enough of a hopeful invitation to his words. It wasn't that hard - Beckett was very attractive when she was angry. Like now.

"Drop the act, Castle!" Beckett snapped. "I know what you're doing. You and your 'bodyguard' there!"

Rick blinked. Did she… "She's not my girlfriend! Why don't you believe me?" Trying to distract her, he added: "And why do you care? Do I detect some jealousy there?" He winked at her.

"Drop the act, Mister Castle. I know about Sunnydale." Beckett crossed her arms and stared at him.

Castle froze for a moment. "Sunnydale? The town that vanished in a sinkhole in California a couple of years ago?" he asked in the most innocent tone he could muster. What did she know...

"Exactly. The town you and your ex-wife and your 'bodyguard' were visiting then." She jutted her chin forward. "The town you both got hurt in, right around the time the sinkhole opened. The town you and her went to, after her parents were killed by terrorists. The town your 'bodyguard' traveled to, after there was a break-in at her home. A break-in that was never resolved. The town she and you and your ex-wife took a camping trip to that lasted months. The town the refugees you took with you to your summer residence in the Hamptons were from." She smiled without a trace of humor. "That town."

Sunnydale. It always came back to the Hellmouth. Even years after it had closed. Rick smiled wryly and went to sit down on the couch. He sent a glance at Alexis, but his daughter ignored the implied request to head to bed. At least they had dropped the weapons off in Vi's apartment before entering Castle's.

Vi glared at the detective as if she was a demon and sat down on the armrest of the couch, ready to pounce on the other woman.

"You seem to know a lot about that town." Castle said casually. "Did you make a wall for it?"

"Yes." Beckett didn't sit down.

Castle winced. This was bad. "So… what exactly did you come here for? You seem to know everything already." He pointedly looked at the watch on his wall. "And at midnight even. Is there a pumpkin carriage waiting outside?"

Beckett ignored his attempt at humor and stepped up to him. Castle put a hand on Vi's thigh before the Slayer could intervene. Things remained very tense though.

"I want to know what you are doing in New York!" Up close she was even more beautiful. Passionate.

"I live here. Have been living for years." He smiled up at her.

"Don't play dumb, Castle! Vi's an expert shot, martial artist, and driver. You've got a cooler head in a fight than Javier, and he's got combat experience in Iraq. You've also got weapon permits that cover almost everything under the sun, and the place you've been working for ten years in London was bombed by 'terrorists'." Castle could hear the air quotes around the last word. Her mouth twisted in a nasty smile. "And you don't flaunt those talents, unlike everything else. Which means you want to keep them secret."

Vi hissed at that, and Castle grimaced. Beckett was even smarter than he had thought. The detective had uncovered their secret. London wouldn't be happy.

"You two are secret agents. And I want to know what you two are doing in New York before it disappears in a sinkhole too!" Beckett put her hands on her hips.

What? Castle gaped at her, then started laughing. Vi joined him, muttering "Castle, Rick Castle!" Alexis didn't laugh, but came close. His daughter always was the most serious in the family. Beckett kept glaring at them, but he could see some doubt appearing on her face.

"What's so funny?" she finally asked, in a tone that reminded Castle that she was carrying a pistol.

"Ah.. excuse me, just the thought… we're not secret agents, I can assure you." He smiled at her.

"We could be of course! We're just that good!" Vi added, not helping at all.

Beckett was tapping her foot - quite a feat in her heels. Castle grew serious. He knew she wouldn't let go. Even if she believed their claims that they weren't actually secret agents - and in a way, they were - she'd simply dig further. They were a case now. And Beckett didn't give up on cases.

He sighed, admitting defeat. "Are you certain you want to know?"

"Dad!"

"Rick!"

Both he and Beckett ignored the two redheads' exclamations.

"There's no going back. Your worldview will be altered irrevocably. You will never look at anything the same way again." Castle was laying it on thick. Not that it would serve to deter her. He could see that Beckett wanted, needed to know.

"Yes, I want to know." There was a faint hint of triumph in her tone, and her expression matched the one she usually had when solving a case, right before the suspect was confessing.

"Rick…" Vi glared at Beckett. Her opinion was clear. Alexis didn't look quite as disapprovingly, but she was not smiling either. They didn't know Beckett as well as he did.

"Alright. Sit down, this could take a while." He waved at the seat across the couch. Once she had sat down - on the edge, leaning forward eagerly - he continued. "It's not my speech, usually, but everyone knows it." Her eyes told him to get on with it, so he did.

"The world is older than you know…"

*****​

Castle had noticed Beckett growing more and more angry as he told the story of the Slayer. She hadn't interrupted him though. He chalked that up to his talent as a narrator. But once he stopped, she exploded.

"Do you honestly think that just because I like your books, I'd fall for such a stupid fantasy?" The detective was livid. Castle once again reminded himself that she was packing heat. "Vampires! Demons! Supernaturally strong women hunting them! Those do not exist!"

He'd never get a better opening. "Vi… would you please lift the couch?"

For a moment, Vi looked mulish, but her desire to show off was too strong. She gripped the couch with both hands and lifted it up. With Castle sitting on it.

The look on Beckett's face as she sank down in her seat was priceless.
 
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