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

Discussion in 'Creative Writing' started by Starfox5, Aug 8, 2015.

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  1. Slayer Anderson

    Slayer Anderson Orthodox Heretic

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    As a Slayer myself, I can attest to the fact that we would like to avoid suicidal battlefield tactics...even if we have regeneration.

    But, yes, thank you for avoiding all of that. I have to admit, though, Giles rezzing as a 12-year-old was one of the funnier moments.

    Granted, if Spike and Faith had stopped for a moment to ask literally any of the scoobies, they would have learned that ressurrecting a fallen ally is generally a *bad idea.*
     
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  2. Threadmarks: The Hamptons, March 2003
    Starfox5

    Starfox5 Experienced.

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    The Hamptons, March 2003

    “... and then he came in, soaked to the bone, and said ‘Mom! The fish are trying to escape!’”

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

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

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

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

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

    He heard the door open and turned his head. “Alexis! How’s your mother doing?”

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

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

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

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

    “Or I can go and ask Spike. He doesn’t think I am a little girl.”

    Rick gaped at her. “Alexis!”

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

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

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

    “That’s true as well. The scoobies are a lively bunch.” And insane most of the time.

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

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

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

    “Ah… I’ll better come with you then. You’ll need adult supervision.”

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

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

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

    Rick should have known that those words would one day come back to haunt him.
     
    Last edited: Oct 1, 2017
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  3. Threadmarks: New York, November 2003
    Starfox5

    Starfox5 Experienced.

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    New York, November 2003

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

    “Should be fun.” Vi, Violet O’Malley, said, closing the passenger door and checking her weapons.

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

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

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

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

    “That’s not the kind of bar for you.” The bouncer tried to bar their way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Vi rolled her eyes at him. The girl had no respect for her Watcher - that had been a classic line!
     
    Last edited: Oct 1, 2017
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  4. macdjord

    macdjord Well worn.

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    Bah. Aston Martin DB5 forever!
     
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  5. Starfox5

    Starfox5 Experienced.

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    Castle has a Ferrari in the show, but I thought this Castle would prefer a BMW, since I gave him an M3 before. Plus, Slayers can be hard on your wheels.
     
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  6. Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    Castle is really slotting into the role now, isn't he?

    I can really see him in the show. It would have definitely gotten me hooked.
     
  7. Slayer Anderson

    Slayer Anderson Orthodox Heretic

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    Oh, hey! Anya survived, awesome! I always did think her death was kinda pointless and stupid.

    Nice to see this continuing.
     
  8. Starfox5

    Starfox5 Experienced.

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    His changed background will cause some changes for the Castle canon too.

    It was always planned to reach the Castle canon series. Which it does today.
     
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  9. Threadmarks: New York, September 2008
    Starfox5

    Starfox5 Experienced.

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    New York, September 2008

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

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

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

    “Still, it would be no bother…” The English Watcher wasn’t giving up easily.

    “Ask him about the outfits Branda wears!” Buffy’s voice could be heard through the phone.

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

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

    “Hello Vi. What’s up on the slaying front?” Castle placed his smartphone back in his pocket.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    “You’ve based a character on me? Dad, how could you!”

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

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

    Castle covered his face with his hands. He simply couldn’t win in this household.
     
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  10. Threadmarks: New York, March 2009
    Starfox5

    Starfox5 Experienced.

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    New York, March 2009

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    “I’m just staying in character,” Vi growled, then stuck her tongue out at him.

    “If you were you’d be wearing the leather outfit of Victoria.” Castle corrected her.

    “Nope. I’d not be able to weather all the ‘Victoria’s Secret’ jokes.” Vi glared at him.

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

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

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

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

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

    “Bet she’s a demon,” Vi muttered next to him.

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

    “Richard Castle?”

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

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

    *****​

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

    “Do you recognize the scene, Mister Castle?” Detective Beckett’s voice stayed professional.

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

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

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

    “We’ll have to go over the mail then, Mister Castle.”

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

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

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

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

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

    “Sometimes together with your ‘friend’ who is cosplaying as a ‘vampire hunter’ in the wrong century,” Detective Beckett continued.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    He had to get her number.
     
    Last edited: Aug 25, 2015
  11. Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    Sounds like Castle, all right :p
     
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  12. Threadmarks: New York, March 2009
    Starfox5

    Starfox5 Experienced.

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    New York, March 2009

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

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

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

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

    “Do you think it’s simply a crazy murderer then?”

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

    “We could steal them. Breaking into the precinct shouldn’t be too hard.” Vi sounded eager.

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

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

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

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

    “Convent and fat.” He spat out.

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

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

    “I’ll corrupt her to the true path of the scoobies one of those days.” Vi dismissed the threat.

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

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

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

    “I bet that detective doesn’t give you even an inch of leeway.”

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

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

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

    *****​

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

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

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

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

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

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

    “Was she a fan as well?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    “That name alone is grounds for an arrest. It’s one of the signs of an evil god.” Castle stated.

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

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

    Ryan laughed. “That sounds like someone’s ex.”

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

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

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

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

    *****​

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

    Becket glared at him. “He’s a suspect. It doesn’t mean he’s the murderer.”

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

    “Next you’ll claim he was killed by a Polgara demon.”

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

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

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

    “Contrary to others, Mister Castle, I am perfectly able to separate fantasy and reality.” Beckett flashed him a brief but slightly sultry smile. He was sure she was warming up to him. This would be a very interesting investigation, he could tell. And the case was interesting too.
     
    Last edited: Oct 1, 2017
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  13. Slayer Anderson

    Slayer Anderson Orthodox Heretic

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    Here's to hoping this lead pans out, otherwise, Castle could face some awkward questions if they track down Vi & Alexis' IP addresses.

    They'll never get Willow's, though. She's a magic-bullshit super-hacker beyond the kin of mortal man.
     
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  14. Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    "Guys. Seriously. Ease up a bit."

    .. yeah, that would work :p
     
  15. Starfox5

    Starfox5 Experienced.

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    Though I think it's safe to assume that Willow makes sure the IPs of all Slayers, Watchers and future Watchers are safe from tracking or hacking.

    Castle won't be taken seriously by the cops, for being a Fantasy author. And he won't be taken seriously by the scoobies when he tries to make them behave because, hey - it's Castle, who usually wants people to be less serious, not more.
     
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  16. Threadmarks: New York, March 2009
    Starfox5

    Starfox5 Experienced.

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    New York, March 2009

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

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

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

    “She’s not my girlfriend,” Castle countered. “And she’s 23 years old.”

    Beckett gave him a look he was quite familiar with.

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

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

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

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

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

    *****​

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

    Beckett turned towards him. “You don’t usually sound that British.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    “That’s a rather plain looking knife. Not quite as fancy as the blades in the drawer.” Beckett stated.

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

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

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

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

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

    *****​

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

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

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

    “Yes.”

    “But why the ritual? That wouldn’t do anything. How do you release such a captured demon?”

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

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

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

    “Hush you!” He wasn’t that bad!

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

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

    “Love trouble?” Beckett asked.

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

    “You gave out pictures from a crime scene to your ‘driver’?” Beckett sounded livid.

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

    *****​

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

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

    “Not of the corpse. I am geotagging the location.” Rick explained.

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

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

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

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

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

    “Damn. He has his third victim already…”

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

    “This time we take my car!”
     
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  17. Derek58

    Derek58 Rocket Punch is Best Punch

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    To the Castlemobile! :D
     
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  18. macdjord

    macdjord Well worn.

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    Of course, even if it is a pentagram, that still leaves two possible locations for the next murder - clockwise or counterclockwise.
     
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  19. Starfox5

    Starfox5 Experienced.

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    Kate's about to experience her first Slayer on the wheel.

    Castle assumes the murderer will be following the book's order of points.
     
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  20. Slayer Anderson

    Slayer Anderson Orthodox Heretic

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    Kate: "I'm going to find and arrest whatever idiot gave her a license!"

    Castle: <Looks at watch, mostly unfazed> "Huh. She beat her best time by thirty seconds."

    Maybe now Kate will believe Castle about the whole 'driver' thing. Of course, I look forward to what happens when the truth comes out. It'll be interesting to see if any of that childish hero-worship is still intact.
     
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  21. Threadmarks: New York, March 2009
    Starfox5

    Starfox5 Experienced.

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    New York, March 2009

    “I should arrest your driver!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    And they were off.

    *****​

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

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

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

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

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

    “That doesn’t answer my question.” Beckett complained, but she was rushing after Vi, who was sprinting ahead.

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

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

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

    Beckett entered a larger room, ahead of him. “NYPD, you’re under arrest!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    “What?” She blinked, gaping at him. “Suitably altered?”

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

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

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

    “You’re not making her a ‘Vampire Hunter’, right?” Vi seemed oddly concerned.

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

    “Good! Then I call dibs on the ‘Hunter’ part!” Vi grinned.

    “What ‘Hunter part’?”

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

    Dear Lord, she was serious.

    *****​

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

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

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

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

    “And she told you?”

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

    “We’re not a ‘Scoobie Unit’. We’re a Watcher and a Slayer.” And his daughter wasn’t part of that.

    “And me. Watcher in training.” His daughter beamed at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

    “That was eight years ago! And I didn’t promise anything! And you didn’t say anything about my last girlfriends.”

    “Bimbos don’t count,” Alexis scoffed. “So, when will you invite her over?”

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

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

    He only knew he’d see detective Kate Beckett again.
     
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  22. Slayer Anderson

    Slayer Anderson Orthodox Heretic

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    And so it begins.

    I foresee Alexis' 'Moving Out' arc to go very differently in your fic. Although whether it's for formal Watcher training or guiding a Slayer, we'll have to see.

    Hey...who's on the Cleveland Hellmouth, anyway? Xander and (possibly) Anya? Or Faith and a mini or two?
     
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  23. Starfox5

    Starfox5 Experienced.

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    I am not sure there will be a "moving out" arc. Or if it'll be covered much. A summer camp in London, for some hands-on training, but most of the knowledge a Watcher needs can be learned through computers, and she can get more experience in New York. Still, whole the scoobies won't exactly push her away, they don't exactly think a 16 year old is ready for the field.

    Cleveland is a major location, there's an entire team there, as a core crew, and Slayers and sometimes Watchers are cycled through, just so they understand the differences between vampires and demons outside a Hellmouth, and on a Hellmouth. I see Xander as leading the team there, with Anya and (unless gone evil and killed) Andrew. Faith and Buffy would be roamers, putting out fires and gathering new Slayers, but officially based in London, with Giles and Mary, Spike probably as well. Willow and Kennedy would be in London as well.
     
  24. Slayer Anderson

    Slayer Anderson Orthodox Heretic

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    Interesting.

    So, I'll assume that, given the Slayer(S) in common usage now, the ritual they did in the desert had much the same effect as what happened in canon?

    That is, all of the Potentials are now full Slayers?
     
  25. Starfox5

    Starfox5 Experienced.

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    More or less, yes. The First Slayer broke the limit of "one girl at a time, only" completely to battle the First Evil, and it stuck.
     
    Last edited: Aug 29, 2015
  26. Threadmarks: New York, April 2009
    Starfox5

    Starfox5 Experienced.

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    New York, April 2009

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    She blinked. “Are you serious?”

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

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

    “You’ve got a very vivid imagination, Mister Castle.”

    “Oh, yes.” His smile widened, and she frowned again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    “You won’t say that after you’ve gotten a ride with her.” Beckett dryly commented.

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

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

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

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

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

    “Yes, me,” Vi smiled, impudently. “Don’t worry, if needed, I’ll protect you too.”

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

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

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

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

    “Are you armed?” Beckett tensed up.

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

    “All your weapons?” Beckett’s lips formed a very thin line now.

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

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

    “She’s not my girlfriend,” Castle answered. Why didn’t anyone believe him?

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

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

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

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

    “You’re on.”

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

    *****​

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

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

    “Time!” Vi called, standing in the lane in the middle.

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

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

    “Three seconds.”

    “You were too slow to click, Rick!”

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

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

    Not that anyone would listen to him. Not the cops, not his family, not his Slayer. Story of his life.
     
    Last edited: Oct 1, 2017
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  27. Slayer Anderson

    Slayer Anderson Orthodox Heretic

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    You know, the weird thing is, it might make actual sense for Slayers to be licensed bodyguards in some situations.

    It would make an awesome excuse for Castle is she had a legitimate license.

    It'd probably also help with the paperwork for her weapons.

    The attached link is specifically for bodyguards in NYC.


    ...also, just FYI, cops tend to get twitchy about carrying guns into the actual station house. Also, usually illegal. They tend to make you check those at the front desk.
     
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  28. Starfox5

    Starfox5 Experienced.

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    Well, she has the licenses - for weapons, and for bodyguarding (she wouldn't get a concealed carry license otherwise, as far as I know). Since, as you said, it makes a lot of sense. And yes, Cops get twitchy. And someone will probably get yelled at for not taking Vi's weapons. Even though they were very well concealed.
     
  29. Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    "Go."

    BUDDA BUDDA BUDDA.

    "Three seconds."

    "You were slow to click!"

    Esposito: "You can bodyguard me any time."

    Ryan: "... yeah, good thing we weren't shooting for money."

    Beckett: "I still don't like you."

    Where? She was wearing tight, scanty clothing.
     
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  30. Starfox5

    Starfox5 Experienced.

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    She was wearing a leather jacket. Enough to hide a Glock Model 20 and some spare magazines. Especially if people are staring at your cleavage.
     
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