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

New York, December 2009

“She’s in France? As in France, Europe?” Richard Castle asked again. “How is that possible?”

“Well… if we can fly from London to New York, anyone else can fly from New York to Paris in about the same time,” Buffy said.

“The distance is longer, though,” Willow pointed out. The witch looked rather tired, but Castle had her seen fight in even worse condition - not that it mattered now, since she would have a transcontinental flight’s worth of rest soon.

“But de Gaulle is not as complicated to get through as Heathrow.” Buffy dug her heels in. “That saves time.”

“That’s French propaganda,” Xander cut in.

“That’s my experience.” Buffy crossed her arms and pouted. “I’ve been in Paris often enough - actually, no, I haven’t been in Paris often enough, not by far, and you can tell Giles that at the next budget meeting! - to know that.”

“Anecdotal evidence is no evidence.” Dawn entered the living room, carrying a bag with the supplies Willow had used for her spell.

“It so is! For me!” Buffy huffed.

“Fortunately, you’re not an authority on such things.” Dawn stuck her tongue out and handed the bag to Xander.

“She’s only an authority on shoes and bad boyfriends,” Faith said from where she was lounging on the couch in a seemingly relaxed manner - if not for her left foot, which was tapping the floor.

“Oy!” Apparently, Spike had decided to stop sulking in Castle’s office after his role as a demonstration of magic to Rick’s father. He hoped that his guest hadn’t made a mess.

“Are you saying that you’re not a bad boy?” Dawn raised her eyebrow at the vampire.

“Of course I am! But she makes that sound bad.”

“Mhh.” Faith smirked, and grabbed another handful of crackers from the bowl on the table. If they were eating that brand, then the Scoobies had probably emptied his fridge and pantry already, Castle thought.

“Can we stop talking about the history of my love life and focus on more important matters?” Buffy asked, with a rather theatrical eyeroll. Castle agreed with the sentiment, though.

“Your shoes?” Dawn apparently did not.

“Am I the only one who cares about my kidnapped granddaughter?” Hunt suddenly asked through clenched teeth. Castle could see the CIA killer coming to the fore behind the man’s until now polite facade.

“The answer to that question is always ‘no’.” Dawn smirked. She obviously wasn’t paying attention. Or her sense of self-preservation had been killed by her strange diet, as Buffy claimed. “But to answer more seriously: We all care about her. But staying all Batman-like won’t help her, and will just make us tense and worry and all.”

“Yeah. Dawn would know, She’s been kidnapped… how many times now? Did she make the dozen yet?” Buffy said.

“Do we count the time she was mistakenly kidnapped?” Xander asked. “And was returned without anyone noticing, because they couldn’t stand her any second longer?”

“Hey!” Dawn pouted at him. “I was freed when they realised that I’m the sister of the most scary Slayer in existence.”

“A likely story.” Xander shook his head in apparent disbelief.

“Not a likely story!” Faith cut in. “Buffy’s not half as scary as I am.”

“I am too so scary!” Buffy said, looking for all the world like a teenager making a scene when she was told about her curfew.

“Yes, you are.” Dawn’s smile and tone said the opposite. “Totally scary!”

Kate cleared her throat. “Tension-relieving banter aside, what do we do now?”

“We’ll fly directly to Paris using the Council’s private jet,” Buffy answered, in a calm and professional manner completely at odds with her earler attitude. Castle marveled how quickly the Slayer managed to grow serious. “We’ll prepare for a strike on wherever Alexis is being held while in transit, and will arrange for support from the local Slayer and her Watcher. After another spell to check that Alexis wasn’t moved, we’ll strike, rescue her, and ensure no one will ever do that again. And then Rick will take us all shopping in Paris!” she added with a bright smile.

“I’m in!” Dawn stated, raising her hand.

“Good plan,” Faith agreed.

Willow nodded, her nose buried in a notebook, where - so Castle hoped - she was pinpointing the location she had found on a map.

“Ah… Paris! So many memories!” Spike smiled and seemed to sigh - with him not needing to breath, it was hard to tell. “I mean... so many horrible memories of my time before I won my soul. Really depressing!”

“Yeah, sure.” Xander glared at him.

“Who is the resident Slayer in Paris?” Vi asked.

“Rona.”

“Rona?” Vi gasped. “Wasn’t she in Mexico City? Why does she get Paris? The only French she knows is French kissing!”

“She was replaced by Valeria, a new Slayer from Mexico, and since Paris was free, she volunteered,” Dawn explained, and hastily added: “It was Giles’ decision! Complain to him!”

“I will!” Vi huffed.

“Do you really want to leave New York?” Kate asked.

“Of course not! Rick needs me here!” Vi scoffed. “But it’s the principle of the thing!”

“She means she’s jealous,” Xander butted in. “Even though Parisian fashion is way overhyped.”

“Coming a guy who thinks Hawaii-shirts are fashionable, that’s a recommendation,” Buffy retorted. “Vampires have a better fashion sense.”

“What? The French comics are also not as good as the American ones,” Xander shot back.

“You heathen!” Dawn scoffed. “And it’s Franco-Belgian, I’ll have you know.”

“Everyone! I’ve rerouted Castle’s phones so we can be reached in the air and in France. We can go,” Willow announced.

“Alright.” Buffy turned serious again. “New Yorkers and newly-discovered Dad - Beckett’s car. Me, Dawn, Mary and Spike take Castle’s car. Faith, Willow, Xander, take the rental. Slayers drive or we take too long. Move it!”

Rick moved to hug his mother. “I’ll bring her back, safe and sound,” he whispered.

“Yes,” she managed to say, before wiped her eyes.

“I’ll bring him back in one piece as well,” VI said, hefting his and her bugout-bags. Or mission bags.

“I know you will,” Mother said.

“And the dad too - if he wants to or not,” Vi added with a grin that only grew wider at the glance Hunt shot her.

*****

Castle’s father grabbed a bag of his own out of his car - a nondescript rental, Castle thought, so boring even he had almost missed it in the guest parking area. “Cut-down or bullpup?” Castle asked.

Hunt looked at him, then answered: “M4.”

“Good choice!” Vi said as she slid the bags into the trunk of Beckett’s car. “If you can’t carry a real gun.” Castle rolled his eyes - Slayers and their need to be the toughest in the room!

“And what is a real gun?” Hunt asked. He didn’t blink at the Ack Pack Vi had carried as well, Castle noticed.

“Buffy likes her pig, but I prefer the MG-3. Or a minigun, if Rick would stop being so stingy,” Vi said as she slid behind the wheel.

“I just bought you another sword!” Castle defended himself. Beckett took shotgun - it was only fair, since it was her car, after all. “Ever been driven by a Slayer?” he asked as his father sat down next to him.

“No.”

Castle grinned. Buffy might wreck his beloved Shelby, but at least he’d get to watch his father scream.

*****​

Hunt hadn’t screamed. Hadn’t even shown much of a reaction. Rick still felt cheated when he took his seat in the Council’s private jet. At least his Shelby had lived to be driven another time.

“Son, I’ve been flown around by pilots high on all the drugs on sale in the golden triangle. A little race car driving doesn’t faze me.” Hunt had a far too familiar smile on his face, Castle thought.

“Well, you should have been a bit worried,” Vi cut in, sitting down across Hunt, “I’m usually driving sports cars, not cop clunkers.”

Beckett, taking her seat across Castle’s, fortunately didn’t take the bait. “I forgot to ask: Does the immunity of the Council extend to me and to your father as well?” she asked instead of sniping at the Slayer.

“You’ve been listed as a Council member since some time,” Castle told her.

“What?” She seemed to be annoyed instead of happy, he noticed. “Without asking me?”

Ah. “It’s just to protect you in case something goes south.” She didn’t seem to like that explanation either. He should have asked her, but it seemed so logical and trivial. Then again, nonchalantly telling her that he had cleared half of his armoire hadn’t led to her moving into his flat for good either.

He really had to work on his timing. After this.

He leaned to the side. “Willow! Can you add my father to our roster?”

“Sure!” came her cheerful answer. “What name do you want to use, Mister Hunt?”

“What exactly will that gain me?” Rick’s father asked.

“Basically, diplomatic immunity. Highest level - though the Council gets really annoyed if you actually use it,” Castle said. “Even if it wasn’t your fault.” Which it hadn’t been. Rupert simply wouldn’t admit it.

“The highest level?” Hunt seemed to be doubting him.

“The Council’s older than any current country.” Castle shrugged.

“I see.” He turned his head to talk to Willow. “Mark my name down as Jackson Hunt, please.”

“Even the governments don’t bother you when you’re cleaning up their demon problems,” Vi added.

“The smart, sane ones, at least.” Buffy stood next to Vi. “The not so sane and not so smart ones get cleaned up. Usually after a lot of people died. Also - if you abuse this for any government work, we’ll have words. Pointy words.” She bared her teeth at Rick’s father, and this time, the man’s facade seemed to crack a bit - he flinched. “I hope we understand each other.”

“Yes.” And the mask was back in place.

“Everyone, fasten your seat belts. We’re about to take off!” Xander announced. “Always wanted to say that!”

A few minutes later they were on their way to France. To Alexis.

*****​

 

Over the Atlantic Ocean, December 2009

“I’ve found the identity of the owner of the house Alexis is being held in!” Willow announced an hour into their flight.

“Willow! You should be resting!”

“I’ve got enough time left to sleep; this is important information,” Willow retorted, waving Buffy’s concern away. She pointed at her laptop’s screen, where the picture of an older man was visible. “The manor belongs to…”

“Gregory Volkov,” Hunt interrupted her, glaring at the screen.

“Ah… you know him.” Willow pouted slightly.

“Yes. He’s a former KGB operative and current vory v zakone.”

“Gesundheit!” Buffy cut in.

“That means he’s a leader in the Bratva, also called the Russian Mafia, though that is not entirely correct given their very different origins and structures,” Willow explained. “They originated in the gulags of the soviet era, and…”

“I don’t think we need the history lesson, Will,” Xander said. “We just need to know that they are bad guys we can deal with without moral qualms.”

As everyone but Willow nodded at that - the witch was pouting, probably at having her revelation spoiled twice in a row - Castle turned to his father. “So… your suspicion was correct.”

“Yes.”

“That was a prompt to tell us why he hates you so much that he’d kidnap Alexis,” Castle continued.

Hunt hesitated, but faced with everyone staring at him expectantly - Dawn putting her hand to her ear to hear him better was a bit over the top, Rick thought - he sighed and started to explain: “I killed his wife on a mission ten years ago.” After several seconds of further staring, he grit his teeth. “It’s classified. Top secret. Suffice to say that she was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and took a bullet meant for Volkov.”

“Our government at work,” Dawn said, sighing theatrically, “making a mess for future generations, as usual. At least this time, it’s not a killer cyborg with a nuclear reactor powering him, and an army of demons in an army base. That’s top secret too,” she added with a wide smile aimed at Hunt.

“Yeah. At least those guys will not shrug off my baby’s best bullets!” Buffy exclaimed, patting her M60. “It’s so annoying when they don’t go down after you hit them.”

“If they are wearing bulletproof vests, they might still not go down,” Xander said.

“I’m not using wimpy 5.56 ammo!” Buffy retorted. “And if they’re wearing those really bulky vests, I’ll aim high - or low.”

Usually, Castle would wince at the last part, as every man would. But since they were talking about the men holding his daughter prisoner, he simply nodded with a grim smile.

*****​

Paris, December 2009

“Rick!”

Richard Castle had about half a second of forewarning before a Slayer-shaped limpet attached herself to him as soon as he left the airplane. Just enough to brace for impact.

“I’m so sorry to hear about Alexis - but not as sorry as the creeps are gonna be!” she declared, holding on. “Me and Theo got the place scouted out - as soon as night falls, we can move.”

‘Theo’ would be Theodore Sanders, a middle-aged man whom Richard Castle hadn’t met before. But he would have recognised a fellow watcher just from the long-suffering look the man wore.

“You can release him now, Rona,” Vi hissed behind him.

“Hm? Ah! Hi, Vi. I didn’t see you.” The Slayer of Paris - that sounded wrong, somehow - made no move to release Castle, and Rick cleared his throat.

“He’s taken, Rona.” Vi was grinding her teeth now. And baring them, Rick just knew.

“What? Not by you. You had your chance! Now it’s my turn.”

Sometimes - often - Rick really hated the competitions into which Slayers seemed to turn everything. He had no doubt that Rona wasn’t interested in him, other than to rile up Vi and prove herself better than her fellow Slayer.

“No, by me.” Beckett’s voice was colder than the November air outside. Much colder.

“Huh? Who’re you?” Rona released Rick and faced the detective. Castle refrained from rubbing circulation back into his arms. Showing any weakness now would be bad.

Before Kate could answer, Vi scoffed. “She’s Detective Beckett, you dolt. Didn’t you read my mails about her?”

“What mails?” Rick and Kate asked in unison.

Both Slayers ignored the question. “I thought she would be taller. And uglier,” Rona said.

“What?” Kate was now glaring at both of them.

“Why would Rick fall for an ugly woman?” Vi asked, hands on her hips.

“Well, he has kept you as his Slayer?” Rona asked with fake innocence.

“Verona!” Theo spoke up for the first time.

“Vi!” Castle yelled.

“Cut it out you two!” Buffy snapped at them, and the two froze. “We’re not here to see who’s the bigger Slayer - we’re here to rescue Alexis, stomp some bads, and then go shopping!”

Their priorities thus reaffirmed, the group proceeded towards the three SUVs Theo and Rona had had brought up. Castle would have scolded Vi, but Kate had grabbed his arm, and didn’t seem to be willing to release him any time soon. Slayers always brought out the worst - or best - in his girlfriend. Not that he would mention that to her, of course.

*****​

Île-de-France, December 2009

“I don’t see any other guards,” Richard Castle whispered as he stared through the lens of his night vision gear at the old-looking chateau a few hundred metres in front of him. “Just the two on patrol in the golf cart on this side.” Golf Carts! Wasn’t that just asking for a visit by the Secret Service?

“It’s not a golf cart. It’s an ATV,” Rona, up in the branches of the tree next to him, disagreed with him. “And they have two of them out.”

“Mounting bigger tires doesn’t turn a golf cart into an ATV,” Vi mumbled from his left. “And you don’t have to whisper, no one is in range to overhear us.”

“There’s bound to be a shift in the gate house,” Kate said on his other side. “One or two guards.”

“And the four on the terraces, with night vision gear,” Vi added. “Looks like Rona didn’t miscount.”

“Hey!”

“So… we proceed as planned,” Buffy said once they rejoined the rest of the group in their impromptu base inside an old cottage. “The Infiltration Team - me, Faith, Vi, Spike, Castle, Hunt, Willow, Xander and Kate - go over the wall and sneak through the trees and bushes. The distraction drives up to the gate, with full fog lights on - London level. That will render their night vision gear useless and blind them. We Slayers use the opportunity to sprint over the lawn, and take out the guards on the terrace. While we break into the house, the rest joins us and the distraction takes out the gatekeepers and then brings the rest of the cars up so we can leave quickly once we’re done.” A typical Xander plan, as the Scoobies called it, if a bit on the Buffy side, Castle thought. But it would do - Hunt hadn’t objected to it either.

“I got it the first time,” Rona said. “And I still say I shouldn’t be the distraction.”

“You’re the local, you speak the language.” Buffy’s tone broke no contradiction.

“She can speak French?” Vi had to add her two cents anyway, of course.

“Not perfectly or like a native, but that is essentially correct,” Theo said. Rona simply growled.

“Everyone will think she’s a tourist who got lost.” Rick could hear Vi smirking.

“Be glad you’re at least the distraction,” Dawn cut in. “I’m the expert on kidnapping, and I only get to be the driver.”

“That’s ‘expert on getting kidnapped’, and ‘getaway driver’,” Xander corrected her.

Dawn huffed but didn’t say anything else.

“Alright. Since Kate has found out from her friends that the other girl, Elsa Dada,” Buffy ignored Dawn’s ‘El-Haddad’, “has been released after the parents paid the ransom, we’ve got only Alexis to rescue. Any questions?” Buffy stood up from where she had been crouching at the map on the ground.

“Something’s happening!” Spike suddenly said over the radio. “I can see the guards moving - and the lights inside the mansion are all burning now! Looks like someone stepped on an anthill.” What? Castle whipped around. “I bet the little chit is making a break for it. She learned how to pick a lock from me, after all!” Spike added in a far too proud voice.

Various curses filled the room and radio channel. Then Buffy spoke up. “Change of plan. All but the drivers rush the mansion, and take out anyone who gets in our way! Willow, cover us! Move!”

Castle, his assault rifle in hand, was barely out of the door of the cottage by the time the Slayers reached the wall surrounding the manor’s grounds. They didn’t bother with climbing and simply jumped over it with all their gear.

“Damn!” he heard his father curse next to him, and he remembered that this was the first time Hunt truly saw Slayers in action, and the best of them at that. He would have made a smart remark, but he needed his breath for running. Alexis needed his help!

They were close to the wall when lightning seems to strike it from behind them. “I’ve disabled the sensors on the wall. You can safely climb it now,” Willow announced.

Another curse from his dad made Rick look over his shoulder as got the grappling hook out, and he saw that the witch was floating, lightning crackling around her hands. “Focus on the mission,” he whispered while throwing his hook.

His dad did - and beat him over the wall. Castle grit his teeth and forced himself to run faster through the woods surrounding the manor. It was one thing to be shown up by a superpowered Slayer, another by his own, aging father! At least Beckett wasn’t faster than he was - but she kept pace with him, even in her heeled boots! He wasn’t getting too old for this, he told himself.

A flash followed by a blast cut through the night, followed by Willow’s voice on the radio: “I’ve taken out the gate and the guards there.”

Gunfire followed from ahead of them. Short bursts. Buffy’s M60, he recognised the noise easily. “Guards on the terrace down.”

He reached the edge of the forest and saw one of the golf carts turn the corner - they guards on the back of the building must be moving to reinforce this side. He raised his rifle and fired a three-round burst at it, together with his father and Beckett. After a few bursts, the cart took a sudden turn to the left and toppled over, spilling three guards on the lawn. Two of them were still moving. Three bursts later, none were.

“Hit it, Willow!”

Castle had barely time to cover his night vision gear before the entire manor was covered by lightning, turning night to day for a moment. When he looked up again, the entire building had been plunged into darkness - Willow’s spell had taken out the manor’s power.

“Breaching charges set!” Buffy announced. A second later, parts of the walls blew in, leaving large holes.

“We’re going in!”

*****​

 

Île-de-France, December 2009

Richard Castle sprinted up the wide stairs leading to the terrace, rifle at the ready. He trusted Beckett and his father to cover their flanks. Up ahead, the dust clouds from the charges - quite bright in the low light - were just settling, but the Slayers and Spike were already inside the manor.

“Slayers taking ground floor and basement!” Buffy announced over the radio. “Everyone else, take the second floor. Or first, if you’re English!” Castle could hear gunfire both over her radio as well as from the manor.

He didn’t like the orders - prisoners were always in the dungeons, after all - but they made sense. “Someone’s moving upstairs,” Hunt announced. “Tactical lights.”

Castle glanced up and could see the cones of flashlights flickering behind the windows. “Guess they don’t have night vision gear inside.” Or not on them.

“We’re coming through!” Dawn announced over the radio. A moment later, Castle could see the first car crash through the remains of the gate. “Guess the SUV was a good choice,” he muttered when he saw the car climb over a mound of debris.

Gunfire to his left drew his attention - someone was firing on the cars from the other side of the building! He heard Dawn yelp in surprise, and the leading car started to swerve. A moment later, a machine gun started to fire at the guards from the remains of the gate - Xander, providing covering fire.

“I’ll take them out!” Hunt yelled, and Castle saw that he had drawn a grenade.

“No! We’re going in!” he retorted. “They can handle the ones outside.”

“What?” Hunt stared at him. A second later, lightning struck the other corner of the building.

“Willow’s really into the storm goddess theme,” Castle quipped, “We should buy her an X-Men costume for Christmas.” Or Hanukkah - he wasn’t certain what celebration the wiccan preferred these days.

He entered the manor through the closest breach in the walls, leading with his rifle. Two corpses lay in the dust-covered hallway inside, riddled with bullets. “Buffy’s baby,” he whispered, then took a left, towards the entrance hall with the stairs leading to the second floor.

Hunt and Beckett followed him. There was another dead guard in the entrance hall. This one was covered with the shattered remains of the stairs’ railing and had his head smashed in. The Slayers weren’t bothering with taking anyone alive. Castle wasn’t planning to either.

He slowed down when he reached the foot of the stairs, and kept his rifle aimed at the floor ahead as he moved up. Light was flickering in the right hallway on the first floor - someone was moving there. He pointed at it, then gripped his rifle again and proceeded in a crouch, clenching his teeth. They were facing well-armed and presumably decently trained enemies, and nobody in his group had a supernatural advantage. He much preferred hunting demons - they were often bulletproof, and stronger and tougher than humans, but they rarely used guns.

If the guards were smart they wouldn’t move forward with their flashlights on. But if they expected enemies with night vision gear, they would do so to blind them. After a moment’s hesitation, he flipped his goggles up, then moved to the top of the stairs, taking cover behind a pillar there.

He peered around the pillar to the right hallway while Hunt covered the left. Something moved there, something flew towards him… “Grenade!” he yelled, dropping to the floor.

A second later the grenade exploded and he felt as if a mule had kicked him in the back, smashing his chest into the floor and robbing him of his breath. And he couldn’t see clearly. Flashbang, he realised. The guards would be charging at them now - but Castle had kept his rifle pointed at the hallway. He switched it to full auto and emptied the entire clip into the hallway’s direction.

As soon as the rifle stopped firing, he rolled behind the pillar - he could see well enough again - and reloaded. There was a body on the ground, right at the corner. Beckett was on the stairs, looking dazed but otherwise unhurt. And Hunt was already at the other side of the hall, covering the left hallway. Did his father have something to prove, or did he just like to show up Castle? People his age had no right to be so fit!

“Kate!”

“I’m fine!” she responded, scrambling to her feet. She almost toppled over, but managed to join him behind the pillar. “How many are left?”

“I don’t know. I got the one there, but I doubt he was alone.” Castle briefly looked her over. She was blinking often, but recovering quickly. “Let’s go right!”

“Alright.” Hunt placed something at the ground. “Left is mined.”

Castle hit the button of his radio. “We’ve mined the eastern hallway upstairs.” Then he moved to the right hallway, pressed his back against the wall at the corner and slid down to the ground. “I go low, you go high,” he told Hunt. “Kate covers the rear.” She would need a little more time to recover fully. “Remember: Alexis may be loose in here - don’t shoot unless you are certain it’s a guard.” He took a deep breath. “On three. One. Two. Three!”

He slid around the corner and went prone, rifle at the ready. The hallway was empty. He rolled to the side and got up, keeping his gun trained down the hallway. At the other end, he saw another flashlight flicker.

“We’ve found a cage on the first floor. Empty,” Castle heard Buffy over the radio.

“That’s my girl,” Spike added. “Picked the lock like a pro!”

So his little girl was somewhere in the manor… amidst gunfire and explosions. “Let’s go!” Castle said, and started to move down the hallway. He wasn’t quite running, but certainly not taking it slow. Alexis needed him!

“We’re in the basement. There’s lots of wine bottles, and a few empty cells, but no one but dead guards!” Vi reported. Castle heard a shot in the background, followed by some scream. “No one but dead guards,” Vi repeated.

“Slayer two, we’re meeting heavy resistance in the southern part of the ground floor,” Buffy said. “Check for secret passages then join us upstairs.”

Alexis wasn’t in the dungeons either, Castle thought. She would have to know that they were here to rescue her, so why wasn’t she showing herself?

He reached the first door on his right. But there was still someone with a flashlight behind the corner ahead. Start clearing rooms, or take the guard out? How many guards did Volkov have left, anyway? There had to be two dozens of them down by now, and the gunfire hadn’t lessened.

The guard behind the corner made the decision for Rick and swung into sight, firing at them. Castle dropped to the ground and returned fire. So did Hunt and Beckett. The man dropped to the ground and stopped firing. Hunt shot him in the head anyway.

Castle was about to get up again when bullets ripped through the door on his side, one clipping his shoulder. He threw himself forward, screaming when he rolled over his hurt shoulder, but the rest of the bullets missed him.

“Castle!” Becket yelled.

He wanted to yell back that he was OK, but the pain in his shoulder made him groan instead. While his father placed a breaching charge at the wall next to the door, Castle grabbed his shoulder. He didn’t find any blood, so the kevlar had deflected the bullet, but the pain didn’t lessen - something must have broken. Probably when he rolled over it.

Then Hunt blew the charge and Castle’s teeth rattled too much to care about a broken shoulder. A few bursts from his carbine later, his father announced that the room was clear.

“Castle!” Kate was at his side, probing his shoulder.

He winced and moaned. “Careful! That hurts. Broken, I think.” He knew how a shoulder wrenched out of its socket felt like, and this wasn’t it.

He was about to get up when he heard a loud, amplified voice with a russian accent:

“Hunt! I know it’s you! I have your granddaughter! Call your strike team back, or she dies!”

*****​

“It’s my strike team,” Rick muttered, standing up with Kate’s help.

Volkov - it had to be Volkov - yelled again: “Say something, bitch!”

“Daddy? We’re in the big room opening to…”

Alexis! And she was cut off in mid sentence! Castle snarled and turned around. He’d kill that bastard personally!

“He’s on the ground floor, south side,” Buffy announced over the radio before Castle could ask. “And I can hear Alexis there.”

She was still alive!

“I’m not bluffing, Hunt! Stop your team!”

Castle really needed a loudspeaker as well.

“He’s moving to the room with the cage. We’re falling back. Converge on that position,” Buffy ordered.

Every step hurt, but Castle didn’t care. His daughter needed him!

*****​

When he reached the room in question, he found Volkov holding a gun to Alexis’s head, with a dozen guards surrounding them, assault rifles - Russian ones AK-47 or AK-74s - aimed at the Slayers and Vampire surrounding them. Well, only one was aiming at Spike, since the vampire wasn’t carrying a gun; most were covering the Slayers carrying machine guns.

“Dad!” Alexis yelled as soon as she saw him.

“Alexis!”

“You brought your son?” Volkov was staring at Rick’s father.

“No,” Castle said, pain and annoyance filling him. “I brought him. That’s my strike team.”

“Well, technically, half of us outrank you,” Spike said.

“Since when do we care about rank?” Vi said loyally. Castle would have to buy her a new sword once they were back. Well, he’d do that anyway.

Buffy cleared her throat. “Last I checked I’m in charge.”

“Tactical command. Not overall command,” Rick said.

Volkov was still staring. Scoobie chatter had that effect on those not used to it. Castle was counting on it. But the Russian mobster recovered quickly. “I don’t care - I have a hostage. And I want Hunt!”

“And a chopper out of here?” Faith asked. “Just checking, so we don’t have to renegotiate because you forgot one of your demands.”

Castle was certain that the Russian expletive wasn’t meant as an answer. It didn’t matter, anyway, as a glance over his shoulder told him.

Willow entered the room, floating a yard above the ground and surrounded by lightning, her hair spread out in a halo around her head - very dark red, Rick noticed with a wince. Once inside the room, she rose further up in the air and stared down at the group of kidnappers. “Drop your weapons and surrender!” she ordered in an inhuman voice.

For a moment, everyone was staring at the witch - everyone among the Russians. The Slayers didn’t need more than a moment. A second later, a dozen bodies hit the ground, shot in the head, and Volkov was staring at the stump of his arm, taken off below the shoulder by a kukri Buffy had thrown with enough force to go through concrete.

And Alexis was running towards Castle.

“Dad!”

“Alexis!” He spread his arms, uncaring of the pain that caused, and embraced his little girl. His not so little girl, he found, when her tight hug sent a lance of pain through his shoulder. “Ugh.”

“Dad! You’re hurt!” She stared at him.

“It’s just a broken shoulder,” Rick managed to say through clenched teeth. “I’ve had worse.”

“Alexis!” Like his ex-wife.

“Mom!”

While Mary hugged Alexis, Castle looked back at Volkov. The mobster was on his knees, trying to stem the bleeding from his severed arm. “How… how…” he stammered, his wide eyes flicking back and forth between Hunt and Willow, who was setting down now.

Hunt shot him in the head instead of answering.

Castle sighed. The perfect moment for a good quip, wasted.

*****​

 

Île-de-France, December 2009

Kate Beckett didn’t look back when the SUV in which she was sitting left the grounds of Volkov’s manor. She didn’t need to see how the first flames were flickering inside, rapidly devouring the wooden furniture and paneling, growing until they would ignite the gas streaming out of the open lines. She didn’t want to see it either.

The gun in her hand was enough of a reminder of what she had done. Killed humans in cold blood. Of course, they had been criminals - murderous kidnappers - and Alexis’s life had been at stake, but cops didn’t act like she had acted. Good cops didn’t. Bad cops, vigilantes, government killers and criminals acted like that. Kate wondered in which of those categories she fit.

Sighing, she looked up. She was in the third row of the SUV. Vi was driving, with Hunt in the passenger seat. The middle row was taken up by Alexis and Castle, though the way Rick was hugging his daughter, another passenger would have been easily able to fit in there as well. Like Mary, who was sitting next to Kate and looking at Castle and his daughter, their daughter, with what Kate thought was both jealousy and relief. Father and daughter were talking, but Kate couldn’t make out what they were saying - a few bullet holes had managed to ruin the insulation, and the noise of the air flow made normal conversation rather difficult.

They drove into a warehouse near Paris, where they changed cars. Mary must have noticed her glances during the drive since walked over to Kate while the Slayers - with much grumbling and pouting - unloaded the weapons and other gear from the cars. Castle was sitting on an improvised bench and wasn’t showing any sign of letting Alexis out of arm’s reach anytime soon.

“You’ve grown since I last saw you.”

Kate’s first impulse was to snap at the other woman. She had heard quite enough remarks about the age difference between her and Castle - especially after someone had spilled that she had met him as a fan when she was twelve - and she wasn’t in the mood for more. But Castle’s ex-wife wasn’t wearing the nasty smile of the typical socialite bimbo Kate had met since she started going to parties with Castle. Instead, she looked simply tired. So Kate forced herself to smile as well. “It’s been a while, yes.” Which might have been a slight dig at the other woman’s age, just in case Kate was wrong.

“You look rather down considering that we saved Alexis.”

Kate narrowed her eyes slightly. What was Mary implying? “I’m happy, very happy, that she’s safe. But I’m not that happy with what I did to save her.”

Mary looked puzzled. “You are a police officer. You have killed before.”

“Not like this. We attacked them like…” She didn’t want to say criminals. “... like soldiers in a war. We killed them all, without giving them a chance to surrender.” Not that she would have had any jurisdiction in France anyway.

“We are in a war. A war against demons who see humanity as prey, who would slaughter humans like cattle, to feed or simply out of pleasure.” Mary’s tone reminded Kate of a preacher.

“Volkov and his men were humans, though, not demons,” she countered.

“They attacked one of our own, which meant they fought for the enemy - knowingly or not. We cannot afford to treat them differently. We’re soldiers, not police officers.”

“I am a police officer,” Kate answered. “A detective.”

“You were one,” Mary stated, “until you found out the truth and decided to fight. Now you’re a soldier as well.”

Kate wanted to deny it, wanted to tell the woman that she wasn’t a watcher, wasn’t a demon hunter, but a cop first and foremost. But that would have been a lie, she realised. Compared to the dangers Castle and Vi fought, fighting crime was… it wasn’t unimportant, but Castle needed her help far more than the precinct.

“Richard took a while to recognise that himself,” Mary said with a faint smile, nodding towards Rick. “He deluded himself for years, tried to claim that he had retired from the war. But all he was doing was taking a break to raise Alexis. Once he was needed, he stepped up without hesitation and did what he had to, to save the world. As we all did, and will keep doing. You, me, Rick and soon Alexis as well.”

Kate didn’t want to dwell on that. Not so soon after killing… she didn’t exactly know how many she had killed. Others had shot at the same people. So she snorted. “That’s the weirdest talk I ever had with the ex of a boyfriend.”

“You haven’t talked to Gina then, I take it,” Mary said, with another faint smile. “I still don’t know why Rick decided to marry that woman. Alexis ruled out demonic possession - eventually.”

Kate laughed - she had met Gina, after all. “I wouldn’t rule it out myself - Gina’s, that is.”

Mary laughed as well. “We checked for that, too. Thoroughly.”

Kate saw that Rick was glancing back at them now, and had a slightly worried look on his face. Giving in to a mischievous impulse, she turned to Mary. “So is it true that it was love at first sight when you met Castle, just delayed, as he put it?”

Mary’s laugh was even louder this time. “If he hadn’t been hurt I would have been tempted to stake him a little, actually.”

Kate nodded, understanding that feeling all too well. “He grows on you, though.”

“Eventually. He’s a good man, a good father, but a terrible child.”

Kate could only agree with that description. Emphatically.

Castle was looking very worried.

*****​

Over the Atlantic Ocean, December 2009

“What did you talk about with Mary?”

Kate Beckett clenched her teeth and pressed her eyes shut. “Castle! I told you - we just talked about our first impressions of you. Nothing more. Now go away! I need to sleep or I’ll be dead on arrival.”

What good was a luxurious private jet with big seats that changed into beds if your fellow travelers didn’t let you sleep? Especially if your fellow travelers only consisted of Vi, Castle and Alexis, the Scoobies having disembarked at the layover in London.

“That talk was far too long for ‘It was love at first sight’!” Castle whispered.

“Shouldn’t you be with Alexis?” The girl would have nightmares about her ordeal, Kate was certain.

“She sent me away.”

Probably because Castle had managed to annoy even her, Kate thought snidely. “She didn’t mean it.”

“I know.”

“So, go back to her. And let me sleep. If I have to face Will without a wink of sleep, I’m likely to shoot him.” Kate opened her eyes and glared at him.

“You know, that isn’t exactly an argument for letting you sleep…”

“I will shoot you right afterwards!” she hissed.

“Vi will protect me!”

“No, I won’t. I want to sleep as well, and you’re too loud!” came the yell from further down the cabin.

Castle glanced at the curtain behind which his Slayer was apparently also trying to sleep and sighed. “Whatever Mary told you about me, don’t believe her! Unless it’s flattering. In that case, believe her.” With a curt nod, he took a step back and closed the curtain around her seat.

Kate grinned - Castle had reacted exactly like Mary had predicted. She did know him very well. Better than Kate, even. Probably. She frowned at that thought.

But then, Kate hadn’t been with Rick that long. Yet.

With that thought, she fell asleep.

*****​

New York, December 2009

“I don’t believe for a moment that Castle paid any ransom. We didn’t hear about any ransom demand!”

Even though she had slept for most of the flight, Kate Beckett was sorely tempted to shoot Will. In the foot, maybe. Or the butt. “It was relayed to Alexis’s mother. Probably because they knew Castle’s lines would be monitored by you.”

“And why didn't he contact us at once?”

“Because it was out of your jurisdiction. The proper authorities in the United Kingdom were informed and handled the affair.” Kate wasn’t even lying - technically, handling the kidnapping was covered by the Council’s charter. Whether or not the British police would share that view was another question. But they didn’t know about it - all they would have been told was that it was a matter of national security. Which, incidentally, was correct as well.

And because she hadn’t slept that long, and couldn’t shoot Will, she added: “So, both girls were released unharmed after the ransom was paid. That’s not going to look good in your report.”

Will worked his jaw without saying a word, then turned around and headed to the break room. Whether he was going to take a break, or to break something, Kate couldn’t tell. But if it was the latter, then she hoped that he’d pick the coffee maker. Castle had really rubbed off on her, she realised. Or it was just the lack of sleep, and the stress. And the nightmares related to the battle.

“Detective Beckett.”

“Agent Walker.” She nodded to the older woman.

“What happened in France?”

Walker wasn’t even commenting on the scene with Will, Kate thought. She was either very focused, or knew that Will was ‘too close to this case’ as well, to borrow Walker’s own words. Kate didn’t really care either way. She simply repeated what she had told Will. “The ransom demand was delivered to Castle’s first wife, Mary Wilkinson. Friends of hers arranged the exchange.”

“In France.”

“I can’t tell you anything else, Agent Walker.”

“You’re still a detective of the New York Police Department. I expect your cooperation with a federal investigation.”

“I’m sorry, Agent Walker, but you will have to pass such questions through the proper channels. I was not involved in any official capacity - which you were already aware of before I left the country - and therefore I am not under any obligation to answer your questions. That was explained quite clearly to me.”

Walker knew as well as Kate that that wasn’t true, but there was nothing the woman could do, other than pass the request up the chain of command until it reached an official in the know, who would bury it. And she knew that as well, if not the reasons for the burial.

“If that is all, I’ll return home. Alexis was not physically hurt, but it was a traumatising experience.”

“Aren’t you going to ask what happened to the other victim?”

“I was informed that she was released after ransom was paid.” Kate hoped that Esposito and Ryan were not listening in and giving themselves away.

“That was true. Though this happened in upstate New York.” And if they hadn’t caught the kidnappers, then the El-Haddads probably hadn’t cooperated with the FBI either. Walker frowned. “One victim, flown to Europe. Another driven a few dozen miles north. That doesn’t add up.”

Kate agreed. “No, it doesn’t.”

When Kate didn’t say anything else, Walker’s frow turned into a scowl, and she walked away without a further word.

Kate had to hide a grin - then sighed. Castle was a really bad influence on her.

*****​

To Kate’s surprise, Castle’s father was still in Castle’s apartment when she arrived after her trip to the precinct. She had expected him to be gone - to finish what dirty work he had interrupted to deal with the kidnapping, or to report to his superiors. Hunt looked… not quite furious, but certainly not happy. Castle on the other looked like he was having trouble not laughing out loud each time he glanced at his father. Which was every few seconds, or so it seemed. Martha was presumably with Alexis in her room, since Kate didn’t see either of the two. And she caught a glimpse of Vi in the kitchen.

No choice. Kate sighed and went straight to Rick. “What’s going on now?” she demanded.

“Ah, well, there have been complications…” Rick began.

“The short version, Rick. I’ve had a long day.”

“My father has been reassigned by his superiors.” Rick grinned widely.

“To ‘paranormal liaisons’,” Hunt cut in.

“That’s their code for us,” Castle added.

“It’s a desk job.” Hunt was glaring at his son.

“Bah!” Rick waved his hand. “When an apocalypse is looming, it’s all hands on deck, everyone fights, no one quits.” His impression of a drill sergeant was still awful, Kate thought.

His father raised his eyebrows at him. “And how often are you facing an apocalypse?”

“Roughly once a year, I think,” Castle said, frowning and rubbing his chin. “I’d have to check with London for more precise data.”

Hunt looked shocked.

“Why do you think the Scoobies were all acting like they did? Compared to fighting a Hellgod, or the First Evil, kidnappers are nothing to get really excited about,” Castle laughed. “Don’t worry, you’ll fit in soon enough. Next mission, you’ll be cracking inappropriate jokes with the rest of us.”

That was what Kate was afraid of. And Hunt looked like he shared her fear.

*****​

 

New York, January 2010

Richard Castle rotated his shoulder, expecting it to hurt. It didn’t. I seemed as if his doctor had been correct - his broken shoulder had healed. Finally. He was thoroughly sick of moving with the utmost care just so he wouldn’t feel like someone was stabbing a glowing hot needle into his flesh. He hadn’t even been able to open his Christmas gifts by himself! Although finding safe positions to enjoy Kate’s special gift had been…

He sighed at the memory and straightened his collar. It was time for him to return to his work. All of his work, at that - he didn’t need two working shoulders to revise his latest draft. “Let’s head to the precinct!” he announced to Vi, who was lounging on the couch and munching on last evening’s leftovers - Kate had left for work in the morning, Alexis was in London for the rest of the week, with Mary, and Martha was in the Hamptons. With an older gentleman Rick neither knew nor wanted to know. His father hadn’t visited since Christmas, citing work keeping him busy. So much for having a desk job, Rick thought.

“Finally decided to stop being lazy?” Vi grinned while she rose from the couch with the fluid grace of an experienced Slayer.

“I’ve been recovering from an injury!” he answered. He wasn’t pouting, not at all.

“Ah, so you admit that they don’t need your brain, but your brawn? As pitiful as that is.”

“You would know that, of course,” Castle retorted.

Vi took half a minute to get the implied insult. He smirked when she gasped at him. Point Castle.

*****​

“So, when are you gonna ask her?” Vi asked five minutes later.

“Ask who? And what?” Castle tried to sound casual while Vi took a turn with just two wheels touching the ground.

“Beckett of course. And as far as what you will be asking her...” Vi grinned. “Will you make me the most henpecked man alive, and marry me?” Her impression of him was abysmal, in his opinion. And he’d know best how he sounded.

“Why do you think I am planning to marry again, after Mary and Gina?” he shot back in the tone of a man who had survived the worst the world could throw at him. His hand wasn’t even near the pocket where he kept the ring.

“Because you never learn,” she answered, grinning at him while overtaking a speeding delivery van. “And because I overheard you practicing.”

Damn that Slayer hearing! He sighed. “I need to find the right moment. I can’t ask her next to a corpse, or after a fight with demons. It has to be perfect.” She deserved nothing less.

“Right after a fight with demons would be perfect!” Vi said.

He looked at her. Dear Lord, she was serious! Utterly serious.

*****​

“So… middle-aged man in an expensive suit takes a shortcut through a side alley. Ends up shot and missing his wallet and presumably expensive watch.” Castle stared down at the corpse on the ground between two trashcans. “Apart from the apparent lack of any sense of self-preservation, that looks like a really boring case. Barely worth a detective’s attention.”

“Thank you for your input, Castle.” Kate shot him a glare that made him wince. Even if Vi had been correct, this was totally not the moment he was waiting for.

“So, even you think that this wasn’t the work of supernatural monsters?” Lanie asked, checking a probe.

He glanced at Vi, who was shaking her head. She hadn’t smelled any demon then. “No unexplained loss of blood. No missing body parts - he still has his liver, as you just demonstrated, and many demons love human livers - and a gunshot wound as probable cause of death. That looks about as supernatural as the average murder-robbery. Of which this case looks like a textbook example.”

“And who is the murderer then, oh great detective?” Ryan had his witty moments, Castle admitted. Unfortunately, they happened often when Rick was the target.

“Random robber?” He shrugged. “He’ll probably try to hock the watch at the pawnshop of his confidence.”

Kate frowned, but judging by the sighs from Esposito and Ryan, they expected to check a lot of pawnshops in the near future.

“We’ll need to ID him as well. Check the missing persons.”

“If only people had the foresight to wear tags with their name and address on them,” Castle said.

“Not everyone expects to be killed and robbed,” Kate answered.

“It also helps cab drivers deliver you to your flat.” Rick caught her raising eyebrow. “I’m definitely not speaking from experience!”

It didn’t look like she believed him. Damn.

*****​

“We’ve got the ID of our victim,” Kate announced an hour later, dropping a picture on her desk. Castle interrupted his latest attempt to set a new record of turns on a swiveling chair with a single push and peered at it.

“Frank Bellardo. Fifty-five years old, independently wealthy - and an antique book collector.”

“Oh.” Castle perked up. Antique books often meant magic books!

“He was at an auction last night, and never returned to his apartment. The maid called the police this morning.”

“The Vanderwilt collection?” Castle asked.

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Kate frowned at him.

He sighed and was about to start his next attempt when her glare stopped him. “A British librarian already checked it out before the auction catalogue was made. There are no dangerous books in there.” Not any more - they had taken the two real grimoires into custody.

“It’s still a murder we have to solve, Castle.” Kate’s smile was anything but friendly. “KiIlers have to be caught even if they aren’t demons.”

Definitely not the right moment either, he thought as he stood up. “Then let’s get to it, so we can solve a more interesting case next time!”

*****​

“Ah, yes, I know Mister Bellardo. He’s a serious collector, and often attends our auctions.” The old man looked like a distinguished auctioneer had to look, Castle thought: Grey temples, dark hair, open, honest face, and slightly boring.

“Ah. Do you remember if he made any purchase yesterday evening?” Beckett, of course, was only interested in the facts pertaining to their case.

“Yes, in fact. He purchased the diary of an officer in the Royal Navy who served during the American Revolution. An original edition from 1786. Quite rare - it wasn’t very popular in Britain, and few copies reached the USA.”

“Was anyone else interested in that diary?” Kate asked while Castle gestured at Vi, who was making faces at a particularly ugly statue in the corner, to stop. The Slayer stuck her tongue out at him - fortunately, behind the auctioneer’s back.

The man smiled. “Yes, indeed. There was a fierce bidding war between Mister Bellardo and Mister Cartwright.”

“Mister Cartwright?”

“Another collector, a regular as well.”

“Did Bellardo and Cartwright know each other?”

“Oh, yes. They were… friendly rivals, I think would fit them best. Fiercely competitive during an auction, but good friends otherwise.” The auctioneer sighed. “All of us will miss Mister Bellardo.”

First among them the auctioneer’s commission, Castle thought. But they had their first suspect, at least.

“Do you record the auctions?” Kate went on.

“Oh, yes, we do. It was deemed necessary when one customer claimed that his bid had been ignored and sued us.”

They got the records as well. As they left the auction house, Castle saw two uniforms overseeing the victim’s car being towed off. “That’s weird… if he left his car here, but was found in that alley there…”

“...then he wasn’t taking a shortcut to his car, but to somewhere else,” Kate completed his thought. “Or with someone else.”

*****​

“Frank is dead? Murdered? Robbed? Oh my God!”

Mister Cartwright either had the talent to become a professional actor, or he was genuinely shocked about his ‘friendly rival’s death’, Castle thought.

“I didn’t know that anyone took the rumours of the diary hiding a treasure map seriously!” Cartwright mumbled while shaking his head. “If I had won the bid, that could have been me!”

So much for his empathy for Bellardo, Castle thought. But...

“Treasure map?” Beckett asked.

“There were rumours, silly rumours, not substantiated by any serious expert, that Commander Baker had found the map to a buried pirate’s treasure during his service in the West Indies. Completely ridiculous, of course - almost no actual pirate buried their treasure, and those who did either recovered it quickly, as Sir Francis Drake had done, or lost it, like Captain Kidd.” Cartwright shook his head. “I can’t believe anyone actually murdered Frank over that!”

“Where were you last night between ten and midnight, Mister Cartwright?” Kate focused on the case again, not on the interesting bits of lore, Castle thought as he studied the books on display in Cartwright’s living room. Who knew where a dangerous magical tome could be hiding? Vi was sniffing around as well - literally.

“After the auction? I went straight home. I would have gone for a drink with Frank, but he said he had an appointment.”

“Can anyone confirm that?”

“The appointment?”

“No, the time you arrived at your home.”

“The garage has a camera. Do you want the recordings?”

“Yes, please.” Kate stood up and stashed her notebook.

*****​

“You’ve been rather quiet today,” Kate said as they drove back to the precinct. “Anything wrong?”

Just the moment, Castle thought. Out loud he said. “No… I just didn’t want to jump back in with both legs, you know - I’ve been away for weeks, after all.” He touched his shoulder for emphasis.

Vi coughed, and he could tell that she was grinning widely.

Beckett, on the backseat, frowned. “You’ve been chomping at the bit to get back on a case for weeks.”

“Oh, kinky! Do you use a riding crop as well?” Vi exclaimed.

While Kate rolled her eyes at the madly giggling Slayer, Rick sighed. Definitely the wrong moment now.

*****​

“Does the alibi check out?” Castle asked as he entered the precinct with three cups from the closest Starbuck’s.

“It’s his car on the record. But the driver isn't clearly visible. Hat and beard match Cartwright, but...” Kate shook her head. “Something doesn’t add up here.”

“I’ll say! Who wears a hat in this day and age?” Castle shook his head. “Not even Rupert does, and he still thinks of computers as some newfangled fad that will pass! And that beard… Santa Claus would be envious!”

“We’ve got a hit with a pawnshop!” Esposito announced. “Someone sold the victim’s watch to one in Queens.” He and Ryan looked rather tired. “The clerk didn’t remember anything, of course, but we got the security camera’s records.”

Which, as it turned out a few minutes later, were not as helpful as Castle had hoped.

“That’s the worst quality in a camera I’ve ever seen! How old is that thing? Was it sold used when Hollywood started to phase out silent movies?” Castle complained. The longer they were stuck on that case, the longer he had to wait until he could ask Kate.

“I think they would lose some business if the quality was any better,” Esposito said. “But he’s recognisable anyway. Sort of,” he amended when Rick stared at him.

“He’s right. I’ve seen the man before... “ Kate bit her lower lip in that cute manner of hers, Castle saw. “And he looked just like that…”

“The records from the auction house!” Rick and Kate said in unison.

Half an hour and two telephone calls later, they had their suspect’s name: Martin Gavin.

*****​

Two hours later, they had their suspect’s body. In the morgue.

“Cause of death: Two gunshot wounds to the chest,” Lanie said. “Different calibre than the ones that killed Bellardo. He was killed about six hours ago.”

“Shortly after he pawned the watch,” Kate said.

“Let’s hope this is not another dead end,” Castle said. Neither of the two women laughed. “Tough crowd,” he muttered, then blinked. “What’s this?” he asked, pointing at the man’s face. The lower half was covered with red welts.

“I haven’t tested it yet, but it looks like an allergic reaction,” Lanie said.

“What did he do, eat shrimps by burying his face in the plate?” Castle scoffed. “That looks like…” His eyes widened. “The beard! Glue!”

“He had a fake beard! He was the alibi.” Kate exclaimed as she turned towards Castle. “He left with Cartwright’s car, wearing his hat and a fake beard. Cartwright asked Bellardo to go get a drink, and led him into the alley.”

“The suit on the records matches Cartwright’s,” Castle added. “But if he had to kill him today, to tie off the loose end, then he couldn’t have an alibi for the second murder. And he either knew where Gavin was going to pawn the watch he gave him…”

“Possible, but unlikely. Unless Gavin trusted him,” Kate cut in.

“...or he had a way to track Gavin.” Castle grinned.

“We need traffic cam footage. And someone to go through Cartwright’s trash.”

Castle didn’t even think to ask as they rushed out of the morgue.

*****​

“All that planning, and then he is caught because he used cheap glue that professional actors don’t use anymore.” Castle shook his head. “And because the garbage truck was late.”

“And because I found the missing diary,” Vi added.

“That’s not evidence. We can’t really tell a judge that you tracked it by the scent of blood.” Kate shook her head.

Vi pouted, and Castle cut in before the two could start to bicker. “What's important is that we got the perp, and he confessed. When faced with his beard. I knew that beard was hiding something!” He shook his head. “And he tried the old double-blind bluff, thinking that if he mentioned the treasure map - the reason for the murder, given his financial situation - we wouldn’t suspect him. He was simply too clever for his own good!”

Kate smiled, and Rick touched the pocket where he carried the ring. After a solved case, Kate was always in a good mood. Not the perfect moment to pop the question, but good enough. Maybe after dinner, in a more romantic mood… candles on the table… that would only work if he could get rid of Vi, though. Well, why not go for broke?

“How about I invite you to dinner to celebrate another solved case?” He smiled at Kate.

“Yes! Giant Sirloin Steak, here I come!” Vi yelled.

Castle’s smile slipped a bit, and Kate laughed. “It looks like the restaurant has already been decided.”

He hdn’t intended to invite Vi as well. But the damage was done. All he could do now was save face.

“Yes.” Castle nodded, forcing himself not to glare at his happy Slayer.

*****​

 

New York, January 2010

“Hm… do you have something for which you need to apologise?” Kate’s tone was light, but her smile had a suspicious edge to it as she cut another piece off her steak. Or so Richard Castle thought.

“No, of course not! I’d never! How did you arrive at such an outlandish conclusion?” He was the picture of wrongly accused innocence.

“That’s the third time in a week you have invited me to dinner - in my favourite restaurant. Where I know you have to make reservations weeks in advance, normally.” She leaned forward, and Rick thought that her smile turned rather predatory. “So… why are you doing this?”

The truth would have been that the first time they went out, Vi was with them, and the second time, their evening was interrupted by a frantic call from one of his informants about a demon gang muscling in on Clark’s, spoiling his plan to propose to her. Rick couldn’t tell her that, of course. “Can’t I do something nice for my girlfriend more than once a week?” He pursed his lips. “I wasn’t aware that there’s a limit on such things - my past experiences generally indicated that there was a weekly minimum, actually.”

“That sounds plausible, but you didn't make such an effort when you were trying to get me to date you.” She was narrowing her eyes now, and her mouth was forming the same line it usually did when she was pushing a suspect into a confession. It wasn’t nearly as amusing from this perspective, Rick realised.

“I didn’t want you to think that I was trying to buy your affections. Back then, I mean.”

“So you’re trying to buy my affections now?” She was joking, but there was an edge to it. A small, dull edge, but… Rick certainly couldn’t propose to her now. She would think he had been trying to butter her up before popping the question.

That he had planned exactly that didn’t change that the moment was lost. For now.

*****​

He had barely stepped into his flat when he was accosted by his Slayer. “And?” Vi asked with wide eyes - about five inches from his face - and a wider smile. A smile that started to falter when she looked over his shoulder and didn’t spot Beckett, apparently.

“I didn’t ask her.”

“What?” Vi stared at him with her mouth hanging open. “What happened? Did a demon cult attack the restaurant? Did a guy keel over at the table next to you, frothing at the mouth from poison? Was she get called in to work?”

“It simply wasn’t the right moment.”

“What? Her favourite restaurant, a private table, you even bribed the musicians… didn’t you tell me before you left that it would be perfect?”

He sighed. “Well… it was too perfect. She thinks I did something I wanted to apologise for. Or butter her up.”

“Well, wasn’t that your plan?”

He glared at her. “Not the point.”

“You said you wanted it to be perfect.” She was shaking her head as if she was Alexis. It was eery, actually.

“To quote the younger generation: I wised up.” He smiled at her, showing his teeth.

“No one speaks like that any more, Rick.” His Slayer sighed. “So, what do you do now?”

“I can’t organise another such evening. I’ll have to be spontaneous. And patient. When the opportunity presents itself, I’ll ask her right away.” That was a sound plan. To adapt to adverse circumstances was the hallmark of a smart man.

“Ah… you’ll be there, box in hand, and as soon as you sense a weakness - wham! You’re on your knee, holding up the box, and presenting the ring. Between her and the exit so she can’t escape.” Vi nodded enthusiastically.

He couldn’t tell if she was serious or sarcastic. “Not quite like that. I’ll just go with the flow.” He made a waving gesture with his hand.

“The flow usually ends up in a drain, Rick.”

He rolled his eyes at her. Why were young people so cynical these days? Maybe it only applied to Slayers, who generally thought that fighting was foreplay and the end of a tight victorious battle was the most romantic moment ever.

“But don’t wait too long, Rick! You’ve got a limited window of opportunity. Seize the day! Make your own luck!”

“We’ve been together for months now,” he corrected her. “I doubt that she’ll leave me just because I don’t propose in time - she’s a modern woman, and would simply tell me if she wants me to ask.” Which, kind of, was why he needed the right moment. “So there is no need to rush things, trust me.”

The way her face fell told him that she didn’t share his opinion. But… he narrowed his eyes at her. “Vi! Did you bet on when I would propose?”

“Uh… no?”

“Vi!”

“Oops… I think I need to go on my late night patrol now. I’ll be back in the morning, don’t wait up for me, Rick!”

“Vi!” he yelled, but she was already out of the door.

Slayers!

And Scoobies!

*****​

“No coffee?” Kate greeted him when he sat down at her desk.

“And good morning to you as well, Detective Beckett.” He smiled at her.

She rolled her eyes in response. “Are you cutting me off from my daily coffee because of my comments last evening?”

She really needed her coffee, he thought. “No.” It was, actually, in a way - Vi had stayed out too late to avoid him, presumably, and so she wasn’t around to drive him to the precinct, which meant he didn’t stop at Starbucks so he’d not miss the right moment, should it happen. Which was looking increasingly improbable this morning. “I was late already, so I didn’t stop for coffee.”

She drew her lips back in that doubting expression of her. “You didn’t want to be late, so you decide to drink the break room’s coffee? Didn’t you call it coloured dishwater last week?”

“I said calling it dishwater would be an insult to dishwater,” he corrected her.

“Exactly So what is eating you? And don’t say it’s nothing!” She leaned forward.

He closed his mouth. She rolled her eyes at him again. There was something to dating stupid girls, he thought. They weren’t even half as perceptive as Kate. But he was a bestselling author and experienced Watcher. He could handle this. “It’s just the stress. I’m always like this right before a new book comes out. And since this time, it’s a new series, it’s even worse.”

“You said the test readers loved it.” She leaned back in her seat and crossed her legs.

“Of course they did!” It was one of his best, after all!

“And that they haven’t been wrong yet.”

“Yes. But there’s a first time for everything.” Although apparently, there wasn’t a third time for proposing. Not a good time, at least.

“Really? The same people who loved the stripper name might be wrong?” Her eyebrows rose.

Kate’s sarcasm was worse when she hadn’t had her usual coffee, Rick noted - not for the first time.

“Everybody loved the name!” he defended his book.

“Probably because sticking my character with it meant theirs wouldn’t be saddled with it.”

“I assure you that my test readers are professionals who would never compromise their integrity for such selfish reasons.”

“I’ve met them, Castle.”

She had him there. And she knew it - she was smirking.

“I’ll have you know that my editor also loves the name!” He wasn’t beaten yet.

“Gina? Being in favour of saddling the new girlfriend of her ex with a stripper name? What a surprise!"

He winced. He couldn’t really refute that - Gina was… a character, to put it diplomatically. A character who, if put in a book, the readers would love to see die, and painfully at that, to put it less diplomatically.

“Beckett! We’ve got a case! Body down a manhole!”

And once again, one man’s - or woman’s - misfortune - was another’s salvation. Castle was up and halfway to the elevator before Esposito had told them where the body had been found.

*****​

“Maintenance technicians found her when they were called in to deal with a clogged sewer,” Ryan informed them when they arrived.

Castle winced at the stench. “Murder, and … what’s the punishment for causing the toilets in an entire block to overflow?” It probably was significantly worse, he guessed.

Kate ignored him - she was always so professional - but Ryan snickered, at least.

“Do you have a cause of death yet?” Kate asked Lanie.

“Well… judging by the lack of blood, the two puncture wounds in her carotid artery, and the lack of other visible wounds, I would guess exsanguination. Or, as Castle would say,” Lanie added with a smirk, “death by vampire bite.”

She looked rather surprised when no one present laughed.

​

“So… is it a vampire?” Kate asked as Lanie was starting to frown at them.​

Rick rubbed his chin. “I don’t think so - there are only two puncture wounds. A vampire’s bite leaves a different scar.” He pulled the collar of his shirt down. “Something like this.”

“You were bitten by a vampire.” Lanie’s voice dripped with doubt and no small amount of scorn.

“Only the once!” Rick retorted with his best roguish grin. “I killed every other vampire that tried to bite me.”

“That sounds like a rather dangerous delusion, Castle.”

“Vampires are indeed very dangerous.” He nodded sagely. “Incidentally, when is Perlmutter supposed to be back from his sabbatical?”

“What?”

“Nothing.” The coroners usually told their own about demons and vampires, but Perlmutter had been rather slow to fill Lanie in.

“Castle’s all about ‘nothing’ lately.” Kate hadn’t forgotten their awkward conversation, then. He pouted at her, but she ignored his plea.

“Well, we have a murder to solve!” He nodded emphatically. If it wasn’t a vampire, then it probably was someone trying to fake a vampire attack. And they might have ties to the supernatural. Or maybe it was the work of a dumb demon trying to frame vampires. “Let’s focus on that, instead of on me. I think we can safely discard the vampire attack theory for the time being.” Unless it was a vampire that had only its fangs and no other teeth left.

“What? Are you feeling alright, Castle?”

Lanie really needed to be told about the things that went bump at night, Castle decided.

*****​

“It’s definitely not a vampire,” Lanie declared later, pointing at the neck of the corpse. “The second puncture wound was made after the body had been drained of blood. Someone planted a drain tube in the first wound - see how the edges of the wounds differ?”

Castle nodded. Unless it was a one-toothed vampire. And he had never heard of such a creature. “No blood in her mouth either?” The last thing anyone wanted was a newly risen vampire in the morgue. On the other hand, that would easily convince Lanie that vampires existed. If she survived the experience.

“No.” Lanie shook her head.

“So, with the supernatural ruled out…”

Castle interrupted Kate. “Only vampires have actually been ruled out. Human blood has many occult uses, so this could be the work of a witch, a demon, or an enterprising human working for such customers.”

“It could have been a vampire not wanting to draw attention,” Kate retorted.

“A double bluff? That would be a very elaborate plan for a bloodsucker.” Castle shook his head. “I don’t think this was the work of a vampire.” They preferred to suck blood directly; Spike complained often enough about sucking blood through a straw.

“Are you two arguing about what kind of fantasy creatures could have done this?” Lanie sounded as if she was considering having both of them committed. Or just Castle - women tended to blame the man in such situations, in his experience. Then again, from an outsider perspective, it might look as if he had influenced Kate.

“Just humouring him,” Kate said with a grin. “He has been in a weird mood lately.”

Lanie shook her head. She didn’t look as if she was convinced, but she also didn’t look like she wanted to call the shrinks down on them.

Castle could live with that. He was rich, after all, so he was at worst eccentric, not crazy.

*****​

“We’ve got an ID on our vic,” Esposito announced when they returned to the bullpen. “We got a hit in the immigration database. Eleonore Petiton, Haitian national. Her tourist visa expired nine months ago, but it seems she stayed in the country illegally."

There might be a voodoo connection, Castle thought. Human blood was used in a number of the darker rituals. The kind that got houngans slayed. By Slayers. On the other hand, disposing of the body like this seemed rather… not disrespectful. Untraditional. Zombies were a thing, after all. “Do we have her address?”

“That wasn’t in the database.” Obviously, or she would have been deported.

“We’ll have to ask around in the local Haitian communities.” Kate didn’t sound as if she was looking forward to it. Castle wasn’t looking forward to bothering countless people with a picture and a name either. It was much easier when he could let Vi beat a few informers up. “All of us,” she added when Esposito and Ryan started to shuffle away.

All but Vi - she was checking the local scene for vampires. Just in case this was actually the work of bloodsucker trying to be clever.

*****​

It took them four hours of asking street vendors and their customers until someone finally recognised the picture and was willing to tell them the vic’s address. A very ramshackle-looking building.

“I’m pretty sure that this violates several crucial sections of New York’s building code,” Rick muttered when he and Kate made their way up to the second floor through a stairwell that mountain climbers would be wary of.

“We’re here for a murder, Rick, not for building code violations,” Kate said, navigating the broken down stairs in her high heels in defiance of physics and common sense. As long as he was bringing up the rear, though, Rick wouldn’t complain. The heels did wonderful things to her rear.

“I’m certain that if we fall to our deaths once the stairs collapse underneath us, this will become a murder investigation,” he shot back.

“Does that mean you think that you might want to lose a few pounds?” Kate smirked, then turned to a door before he could think of an answer that wouldn’t get him shot - women were very sensitive about their weight. Two marriages and dozens of relationships had taught him that. “We’re here.”

‘Here’ turned out to be a depressingly run down small apartment - a single room, a kitchenette, bathroom dating back to the Great War, and a walk-in closet masquerading as a second room. And either she had been fond of removing all drawers and emptying them on her bed, or someone had ransacked the place already. And without taking all the valuables.

And someone had painted a ritual circle on the floor. In blood. Surrounded by melted candles.

“I think we just found the missing blood from our vic,” Castle said. He snapped a few pictures with his phone and sent them to the Council. If that was a houngan’s work then things had just turned serious. Serious enough to call Vi to make her stop hunting vampires, and help them out here. Just in case.

Sighing, he stood up again and looked around. “I bet she collected the furniture before the trashmen could,” Castle muttered. “Points for recycling?” He prodded an armoire with his foot, and the thing collapsed when a broken leg gave way. “It was broken already!” he quickly defended himself - he hadn’t hit it that hard.

Kate wasn’t listening, though - she was picking up a picture that had been pinned to the underside of the armoire. “She had a boyfriend,” she pointed out. “Or a lover.”

Castle peered at the picture. The vic and a middle-aged man, their arms around each other. “And a well-off one,” he remarked. “That’s a designer cashmere scarf. And a tailor-made jacket.” He looked at Kate. “A poor illegal immigrant, living in such squalor, and a man able to spend several hundred bucks on a scarf and double that on a suit?” He shook his head. “That’s not a pretty picture.”

*****​

By the time they reached the precinct, Vi was already there. It didn’t take long to fill in her and the others.

“A voodoo ritual? With her blood?” Esposito sounded almost scared. No, he was scared, Castle realised.

“We don’t know yet. Could be a fake.” He shrugged. “Experts are checking the pictures I mailed them.”

“Better be fake,” Esposito muttered. “Don’t wanna become a zombie.”

“Don’t worry, Javier! I’ll protect you!” Vi beamed at the detective, but when he just nodded, without even looking at her, her smile turned into a scowl. Castle shook his head - a houngan wasn’t even half as dangerous as a scorned Slayer.

He was about to comment on that - a good Watcher should never miss a chance to keep their Slayer humble - when his phone vibrated. A brief glance later, he smiled. “It’s from Dawn. The circle doesn’t match any voodoo circles in the Council’s archives. I guess you won’t have to walk around with the guy’s picture and ask if anyone knows this murderous houngan.”

Kate rolled her eyes, but Esposito looked relieved. No wonder the man was no longer chasing Vi.

“Back to our suspect, “Kate said in her ‘no-nonsense’ voice. “Or at least our person of interest. We have his picture, but I don’t think we’ll find him by walking around designer boutiques and asking sales clerks.”

“That would actually work if he is rich enough,” Castle cut in. “People greet me by name in all the expensive boutiques.”

“That’s because you pay for Buffy’s shopping tours,” Kate retorted. “Do we have her cell phone records?”

“Nothing.” Ryan answered. “She probably had a prepaid anyway, with a fake address.”

Another dead end then, Castle thought. That pun was growing old, too.

“Why would a rich man murder his illegal immigrant girlfriend anyway? He could easily get rid of her by calling the Immigration Office,” Esposito asked.

“I can answer that,” Lanie said, holding up a report. “She was pregnant. Four months in.”

Castle muttered a curse. And he wasn’t the only one.

*****​

“So… we have the motive. We have his picture. But we lack his ID,” Rick summed up.

Kate, staring at the murder wall, nodded. “How would a rich man have meet her?”

“Street prostitution,” Ryan answered. “Many rich guys get a kick out picking up hookers, even if they could afford escorts.”

“We don’t know if she was a prostitute. She had a regular job as a waitress, according to her neighbours,” Kate said.

“She was poor enough to need additional income,” Ryan countered.

“If she was, it won’t help us find him.” Castle sighed. “But… we know he isn’t a houngan. Yet he tried to frame a houngan. That means he doesn’t believe in their power.” He grinned. “How about we ask them for help to find the man trying to frame them for murder?” That was an excellent idea!

Strangely, the others didn’t seem to share his enthusiasm. Esposito looked even paler than Ryan!

*****​

“I don’t know why anyone is afraid of a houngan!” Vi complained while she drove through New York’s streets with her usual utter lack of care for traffic laws. “I’m much more dangerous than any houngan!”

Rick nodded. “I’m certain that Esposito is afraid of you as well.”

His Slayer growled at him, and he smirked. Point Castle.

“Esposito’s view of the supernatural is irrelevant,” Kate said from the backbench.

“It’s not irrelevant!” Vi protested.

“It’s not relevant for our case,” Kate said, baring her teeth. Almost like a Slayer, Rick thought. Maybe Vi’s idea had some merit? He shook his head. No, the right moment would appear. He just had to be patient.

They arrived at the address of one of the local houngans before the right moment had appeared - Kate and Vi had spent the drive bickering. Rick checked his shotgun before he got out of the Shelby.

“Are you expecting trouble?” Kate asked.

“Not really. But I always pack a shotgun when I might encounter zombies.”

Kate narrowed her eyes at him, looked at the building in front of them - old and dark, perfect for the haunted house in a horror movie - and grabbed her own shotgun from the trunk.

*****​

“So… someone is trying to frame me and my colleagues for murder.” Simon Palanquet, one of the leading houngans in New York, slowly shook his head. “And you expect me to deal with him, so you do not have to dirty your Slayer’s hands?” His frown turned into a sneer. “We’re not yours to command.”

“I’d not have asked but ordered, if you were mine to command,” Rick answered before Vi could do more than growl at the man. “But if you find him for us, we can get him arrested and the whole matter dealt with without involving your community.”

“Is that a threat?”

The man had a really low opinion of them, Castle thought. Or he was trying to start a fight. Maybe arriving armed for zombies had sent the wrong message. On the other hand, houngans created zombies. That pretty much put them in the dangerous and suspect categories. “No. A threat would be: ‘If he dies from a curse or other magic, we’ll call the Red Witch and have her deal with you.’ You know how she feels about murder through magic.” Willow had made her point clear, one warlock a time.

“Self-defence is not murder.”

“You’re not under any imminent attack,” Kate pointed out. “It wouldn’t be self-defence.”

“That’s a mundane definition.”

“It’s a definition the Council shares,” Castle corrected the houngan. “It is up to you if you want risk antagonising the Council, instead of helping us help you.”

“You’ll owe us a favour.”

Ah, they were negotiating now, instead of posturing. “A small favour. Just like this.”

“If it was a small favour you wouldn’t need our help.”

“We don’t actually need your help. I can call in the Red Witch. But she might not be too amused if she has to travel to New York to deal with one of your problems.” Castle smiled, showing all of his teeth.

The houngan folded after a few more exchanges, and agreed to send them the address as soon as he had it.

Back in the car, Vi shook her head. “If Willow finds out that you are threatening people using her reputation…”

“She has earned her reputation,” Castle defended himself. “And where is the harm in putting a little pressure on shady practitioners? It means less apocalypses when they stop before they go darkside.” He shrugged. “Besides, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt me.”

He noticed that his Slayer was grinning widely at him, and groaned. “New sword?”

“New sword!”

*****​

They had their suspect a day later, and no one would question the ‘anonymous tip’ that told them his name and address. Not when they had the suspect’s picture to show around. DNA analysis confirmed that the man - Alan Mackenzie - had impregnated the victim. His phone records were the icing of the evidence cake - they got them the number of a prepaid phone which had been used extensively in the block Petiton had lived in, as well as at her work. Mackenzie’s lawyer started asking for a plea bargain after being confronted with the evidence - his client’s attempt to deny even knowing the woman had made his position even worse.

More importantly, though, Kate had that smile on her face that Rick loved so much while she was taking down her murder wall. A smile full of pride in her work, and satisfaction that she had brought a killer to justice. And they had been working together on this, very well in fact. Even better, the rest of the crew had already left the precinct. They were alone.

This was the moment he had been waiting for. He reached into his pocket and gripped the box with the ring he had made. “Kate…”

“Kate!” Lanie’s loud voice interrupted him before he could stand up, much less go down on one knee. He glanced to his side and saw the coroner storm towards them.

“Lanie?” Kate asked, turning towards her friend.

“Perlmutter told me! And he told me you knew! Why didn’t you tell me?” Lanie glared at Kate, and then at Rick, tapping her foot. “He told you!”

Rick sighed and sat down again. The moment was gone.

Why couldn’t Perlmutter have waited another day? Granted, Rick had told him to step on it, but… he hadn’t expected the old coroner to actually listen to him!

Someone had it really in for him! Maybe he should check if Gina hadn’t sold her soul to prevent his marriage to Kate.

*****​

 

New York, January 2010

Richard Castle had a fresh, hot cup of Kate’s preferred overpriced coffee with him when he entered the 12th Precinct - he could and did learn, despite of what everyone in his family claimed! He also had Vi with him, but that couldn’t be helped - his Slayer had told him bluntly that she’d not let him out of her sight, not so shortly after his meeting with Palanquet. She had claimed that he had a talent for making people mad at him. That, coming from a Slayer!

Kate was at her desk, nose almost buried in some files. He swiftly approached her, ignoring the waving from Ryan - he knew his priorities.

“Good morning!” he greeted her with a bright smile - which almost froze when she raised her head to look at him. Bloodshot eyes, eye bags, and an expression that would have curdled milk at ten yards. Handling her in that state without getting hurt would require every little bit of tact and diplomacy he could muster.

“Bloody hell, Beckett! What did you do, empty out Budweiser by yourself? You look like death warmed over!”

Rick made a mental note to impress upon his Slayer that blunt honesty wasn’t always the best approach. In fact, when it came to women, it was usually the wrong approach.

To his relief, Kate didn’t try to shoot Vi or him, but simply glared at the Slayer instead and hissed: “It was a bottle of Absinthe and some other liquors. And it’s all Castle’s fault!” With that, her glare turned back onto him, and Castle had to wince at the sheer rage contained in her eyes. He smiled weakly and held out her cup. “Coffee?”

“Castle, what did you do?” Vi, always quick to shift the blame, frowned at him.

“I didn’t do anything!” he defended himself while Kate guzzled down half the syrupy concoction in less than a second.

Looking marginally less possessed by an evil spirit, she scoffed. “It’s what he didn’t do that’s the issue! Lanie gave me hell because she hadn’t been told about demons,” she explained in a lower, but still slightly growly voice. Which he knew was a word - he was a bestselling author, after all. If need be, he could create a new word!

“What? That was Perlmutter’s duty! I even told him to get to it a day earlier!” It wasn’t his fault!

“You should have done that far earlier!” She emptied her cup, and Rick felt almost sick thinking about the amount of sugar and caffeine that would enter her blood. “You probably found it too amusing to leave her ignorant so you could make the truth look like a joke!”

“Certainly not!” And he bet that Kate had felt the same - wanting to put one over the all-knowing coroners was completely understandable, after all. As long as they didn’t get hurt.

She huffed. “She was already mad for that. And hearing that her corpses had been checked for demonic possession without her knowledge made it worse!” She eyed his own coffee and he handed the cup over without a word. He knew how to pick his battles. Usually. At least with Kate.

She gulped down his coffee as well, then took a deep breath. “It took half a bottle of Absinthe to calm her down. And I had to match her glass for glass. Sugar cube for sugar cube.”

“Sugar?” Vi blinked. Castle hissed “Later!” at her. The last thing he wanted was his Slayer getting a taste for something that would result in both a sugar rush and inebriation.

“So… you see, it’s all your fault.” Kate growled. “If I hadn’t calmed her down, she would have probably done something to you with her scalpels by now.”

“Well, you have my utmost gratitude for saving me from dismemberment!” Rick said. He was honest, too - doctors, be they surgeons or coroners, were not people you wanted as your enemies. The imminent danger of getting shot having passed, he sat down in his usual seat while Vi, for once, didn’t annoy Beckett by sitting on the edge of the detective’s desk and instead dragged another chair over.

Kate huffed again. “Be glad it’s a slow day - if I had to deal with a case while my head is hurting like this…”

“Stop!” Castle clenched his teeth, hoping he had been in time.

She blinked. “What?”

“Beckett!” the Captain yelled through the bullpen, loud enough to make even Rick, who had neither a hangover nor supernaturally enhanced hearing, wince. “You’ve got a case! Workers found a body stuffed into a cement mixer in a construction site.”

“You just had to tempt Murphy, did you?” Castle sighed, then winced, when Beckett glared at him again, as if this was his fault! Well, it wasn’t - but it certainly wasn’t the right moment to propose to her either. Probably not even the right week.

*****​

“So, what are the chances that this is just an accident? Drunk frat boys want to make a barbecue, end up grilling themselves?” Castle asked as they crossed into the cordoned off area in the middle of a half-built building.

“Slim to none I would say, Castle.” Lanie sounded cold enough to freeze nitrogen. Or whatever the saying was.

“Good morning, doctor!” he said in his most charming manner. “What makes you say that?”

“People don’t tie themselves up before accidentally jumping into a cement mixer.” Her sarcasm was thick enough to be visible in good light.

“Well… certain sex practices could result in that, I think…” He trailed off faced with enough raised eyebrows and glares to embarrass a Scooby.

“Vi?” He usually didn’t draw attention to his Slayer when she was checking out a body, quite the opposite actually, but this was an emergency.

The redhead was standing at the mixer and sniffing the air.

“What’s she doing?” Lanie asked.

“Checking for signs of demonic involvement,” Castle explained. Apparently, Kate hadn’t covered that between Absinthe and other liquor.

“With her nose?” Lanie’s voice was dripping with incredulity.

“She’s like a bloodhound,” Kate said, grinning slightly.

“I heard that!” Vi spat.

“Ears like an owl as well,” Kate added. Rick was so proud of her.

Vi huffed and stood up. “Smells like demon. Faint, but it’s there. Haven’t encountered that kind before, though.”

Lanie sighed. “Do I have to fake a report now? For the first time in my career?”

She sounded actually concerned about that, so Castle shook his head. “Not for that body, I think. But we might produce a few more, depending on the demons involved.”

Strangely, that didn’t seem to improve her mood. She probably was still suffering from her hangover, he thought.

*****​

“The Vic’s been identified as Martin Kowalski, student at NYU, freshman, Biology major. Home address on record is the Lambda Kappa fraternity house,” Kate announced back in the precinct. “Probably a pledge. Esposito and Ryan are checking the address out. I sent them a message about the demon scent.”

Castle winced. Vi looked grim.

Kate had that look that meant Castle better explained, right now. He was quite familiar with it by now. So he did. “Demons and frat houses don’t mix well. Too many targets or corruptible people close together. The ideal hunting ground.”

Vi nodded. “Or they form a cult and sacrifice virgins to a patron demon.”

“He could have run into a demon while doing whatever the senior frat boys made him do,” Kate said. “It’s not unheard of for pledges to be ordered to organise alcohol for a party.” Glancing from Castle to Vi and back, she added: “This is not Sunnydale.”

“I don’t know of any demon who’d tie up a human and then stuff them into a cement mixer,“ Rick said. “They usually eat the body, cut off parts or sacrifice their victims in rituals.”

“Vi didn’t recognise the demon’s scent,” Kate countered, “So it might be a new kind of demon.”

“In that case, it’s best to expect the worst. Esposito and Ryan might need backup,” Castle said.

“They definitely need backup,” Vi stated, huffing. His Slayer carried grudges.

“I’ll call them,” Kate said, putting her phone on speaker.

Ryan answered after two rings. “Yes?”

“Ryan? Any trouble at the frat house?”

“No. They don’t know anything. Kowalski took a walk late night and didn’t return. His room is clear, the alibis check out. Dead end.” Ryan sounded as if he was talking about the weather.

“Thank you, Ryan. Are you on the way back to the precinct?” Kate asked with a frown on her face.

“Yes. We should arrive in a few minutes.” If they checked the whole house in the time they were away, they would have been faster than Buffy at a shoes sale, Rick thought. He wasn’t the only one.

“See you then.” Kate hung up and looked at Castle. “Mind control? Possession?”

He touched the box in his pocket so he could refrain from telling her that he had told her so. Instead he simply nodded. “Or something. We’ll have to intercept them.”

“We can get them in the elevator, and go down to the morgue.” Kate was already standing up. Castle nodded and followed her. Then he noticed that Vi was grinning widely.

She noticed his look. “I get to beat up Javier! In the line of duty! Isn’t it great? Teach him to dump me!”

“You were never together - you turned him down when he asked for a date. Repeatedly,” Rick pointed out.

She sniffed. “He dumped me because I’m stronger than him. I’ll show him stronger!”

Castle sighed. Slayers!

*****​

“They’re in the garage, entering the hallway,” Vi whispered. She and Castle were hiding in out of the security camera’s view in said hallway. “I can hear them.” She sniffed the air. “And I can smell them - and the demon scent.”

“Alright… remember the plan,” Rick said.

“Knock them out and drag them to the morgue; I’m not Buffy,” Vi said in her best ‘bored teenager’ voice.

“Without getting seen,” Rick added.

“I’m never seen unless I want to be!”

Rick was about to mention a few occasions that had not held true when she suddenly tensed. A minute later, the two detectives walked around the corner. Vi was on them before they could react and knocked their heads together with an ugly crack, then grabbed the two unconscious men before they hit the ground. “Hah! Two with one blow!” She beamed at him.

Rick shook his head. “Five more, and we’ll call you Tailor.”

“Huh?”

“Later.” Obviously, German folktales were not part of the Slayer curriculum. He would have to mention that to Rupert. Though to be fair, Rick only knew the story thanks to his research for his books. “We need to get them to Lanie and Kate.”

*****​

“So… how do we check for mind control? Or spells? Or possession? Do we drip holy water on them?” Lanie asked with a bit more sarcasm than the question warranted, in Rick’s opinion. “I’m a coroner, not a witch doctor.”

“Your impression of Bones needs some work,” Kate shot back. “And yes, we will use holy water,” she added, already pulling out two vials. Rick wasn’t surprised - she was one of his best fans, after all, and he had taken care to faithfully portray the various ways of dealing with demonic possession in his work.

“Holy water?” Lanie asked again.

“Blessed by a priest.” Rick nodded. A priest getting quite the donations for his church in exchange.

“If my Chemistry teacher knew I was party to this, he’d retroactively fail me,” Lanie muttered.

The water didn’t do anything to the two unconscious - and likely concussed - detectives.

“I think we can rule out possession, at least the most common forms,” Rick said. He hoped they didn’t have to get a witch to check for spells. “So… Vi?”

The Slayer was sniffing Ryan, then bent down. “The stench’s stronger here…” She flipped the detective over with a flick of her wrist. “There!”

“A bezoar hatchling!” Rick exclaimed. “I knew it!”

“You knew it? You didn’t say anything!” Vi complained.

“I meant I knew that we should have expected the worst,” Rick explained. Then he saw the thing move. “Don’t let it escape! And watch the other one!”

Two thrown knives later, they had a pair of demons to dissect.

Strangely, Lanie didn’t seem to be looking forward to that. Castle blamed her hangover - demons stank.

*****​

“So, we have a fraternity house full of demon-controlled students,” Beckett summed up back in the precinct. “And they might have spread to other dorms already.”

Vi nodded. “Sorority girls are the ideal carrier - they will sleep with anyone who asks.”

Judging by Kate’s glare, she had been in a sorority as well. Rick was so not touching that.

“And thanks to our overzealous Slayer, Kevin and Javier have concussions and can’t help us deal with this,” Kate said. ‘Our Slayer’ - Rick liked that.

Vi sniffed. “They wouldn’t have been a big help anyway.”

“Three against a horde of frat boys?” Kate raised her eyebrows.

“Sounds like the title of an 80s porn movie,” Rick quipped.

“You would know that, would you?” Kate was now glaring at him, as if Vi’s actions were his fault.

“Anyway, we just need to kill the mother bezoar and her children will fall off, shrivel up, and die. The exact sequence of the process can vary,” Castle said, trying to make the others focus on the problem at hand instead of on his imaginary faults.

“And by we, you mean me,” Vi added, looking less eager to slay a demon than usual. “Buffy told me all about how messy they die. I’ll need new clothes after this! A whole new wardrobe!”

“You can wear old clothes for the mission,” Castle retorted.

“And be seen in rags? I need to blend in with students!” Vi exclaimed.

“You said that the only time you’re seen is if you want to be seen. Unless you want to be seen by demon-controlled fratboys…”

Vi huffed, and Castle chalked up another point to himself.

*****​

“Are you certain that the bezoar is in the dorm’s basement?” Kate asked early in the morning as the three of them were sneaking up on the frat house in question.

“All of the accounts of battles with those demons agree that they are hidden below the ground,” Castle explained. “So, we sneak in through the old coaling chute, find the monster, Vi kills it with the rocket launcher, and we open a gas line for a bit, to explain everyone dropping unconscious.” And his Slayer could brag to the other Slayers that she got to use a rocket launcher. And would hopefully stop trying to get his permission to use one on Clark’s just so she could say she did.

“Easy,” Vi said, and Castle groaned - did they never learn?

*****​

“See? That’s why you don’t tempt Murphy!” Rick yelled five minutes later, trying to hold the basement door closed against the onrushing horde of demon-controlled frat boys.

“I didn’t set them off!” Kate yelled back, dragging another keg of beer - the fraternity had stashed enough booze to make an Irish pub jealous - to reinforce the barricade they were building.

“I’ll find it soon enough,” Vi yelled from further down the basement, “the stench is growing stronger!”

“Hurry up!” Rick shouted when the door started to splinter under heavy blows. “They’ve got axes!” Axes they would use on him and Kate once they broke through. He should have brought his flame thrower - his shotgun might not be enough, should worse come to worst. He would hate himself for killing mind-controlled people, but he’d hate himself even more if Kate and himself died.

Kate hefted the keg up and dumped it on the others. The whole barricade was shaking now; the door had been broken down. He could see more axes and baseball bats. The worst, though, was the silence. For all their zeal in storming the basement and killing them, the frat boys were not saying anything - it was worse than a zombie attack.

“That was the last keg,” Kate said, panting.

He cursed and lifted his his gun. If he shot them in the legs… he shook his head. That wouldn’t stop them. “We have to hold the choke point here,” he said through clenched teeth. “If they break through we’ll be surrounded and killed.”

“They’re not aware of what they are doing,” Kate said, looking at him.

“I know.” They were pushing hard now, the barricade was shaking. The first keg tumbled off it, breaking as it hit the ground, spilling beer all over the floor. Not even that terrible waste broke the demonic hold over the frat boys, though.

The leader, a tall, buff blond, was crawling over the barricade now, axe in hand. Castle raised his shotgun.

“I’ve found it!” Vi yelled from behind them. “Take that!”

Then the basement behind them blew up, and Castle was thrown into the puddle of beer, with Kate falling on top of him.

“Yeehaw!” he heard his Slayer yell in triumph. “Roasted Bezoar!” A quick glance confirmed that the blond leader had fallen unconscious. Then smoke filled the basement.

He was lying in a puddle of beer, in a room full of smoke, with the woman he loved on top of him, surrounded by unconscious frat boys and the dying babies of a demon brood mother.

“Kate?”

“Yes, Rick?”

He pressed the box into what he identified by touch as her right hand.

“Will you marry me?”

*****​

“I told you so!” Vi said an hour later, for the tenth time that night. “Didn’t I? The best moment is right after a battle, and with the exit blocked!” She was cackling with glee, too.

Castle didn’t care. Kate may have laughed almost hysterically for over a minute, then coughed for another minute to get all the smoke out of her lung, and he had ruined a suit with beer and smoke, but she had said yes!

*****​