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

New York, October 2009

“Until I started fighting demons, I didn’t really notice that your books do not mention just how much you hurt after such a fight.”

Rick Castle narrowed his eyes as he looked at the detective, who was walking in front of him with Lisa, as they slowly made their way back to the surface. Which was a phrase that sounded far too much like a line out of a D&D novel to use in his own work, he noted. “In my defense, dwelling overly long on convalescence scenes, apart from the usual bedside visit after the victory, was discouraged by my editor.” And by everyone else - even Rupert.

“So this was not by design, to avoid scaring prospective demon hunters off?”

He couldn’t see her face, but her tone was light, joking. She really was fitting in with the Scoobies, he thought, and snorted. “No! We don’t exactly want amateurs hunting demons, and we want amateurs hunting demons thinking that it’s easy and safe even less.” Which, seeing as how the Scoobies all started as amateurs, including Buffy, was kind of hypocritical. But they also knew just how dangerous it was, of course, and didn’t want anyone else to experience what they had gone through. Although apparently Alexis didn’t count as an amateur.

“You didn’t exactly try to deter me.”

“I rarely attempt anything I know is impossible,” Rick said. Behind him, Vi started to cough loudly. “Apart from trying to teach my Slayer basic manners, of course.”

“Hey!” Vi protested, while Beckett chuckled.

“See? Eavesdropping is impolite.” He slowly shook his head, sighing loudly. “I try, and try, but it’s hopeless…”

“Hey!”

A sudden crash from up ahead, and loud curses interrupted further banter. Apparently, navigating a pallet truck through the sewers was not quite as simple as it looked, even for Slayers.

“Willow!”

“I told you Buffy: I’m not going to float the seal all the way.”

“But I just ruined my boots in this muck!”

“Then you have nothing more to lose. Stop bothering Willow for petty reasons!”

“Dawn! Says the girl who wanted her to enchant her leather jacket so it’d have air conditioning!”

“I was seventeen at the time and that’s not a petty reason! It’s needed for any trek through a desert!”

“You were studying in London.”

“I could have been called off for an emergency translation in egypt any day!”

“There’s e-mail and scans for that these days!”

“B! Stop feuding with your little sister and grab the other side!”

“Oy! What about me, Slayer? I’m the one getting pushed in the muck here!”

Castle was distracted from following the most recent episode of 'Days of our Slaying Lives' by Beckett’s comment: “You know, it’s actually comforting to listen to them bickering. If they are acting like teenagers, it means we’re safe.”

“Well…” he started to say.

“It’s not exactly a perfect indicator,” Xander, who had dropped back from the mess at the head of their little column, smart of him, Castle thought, cut in. “They also bicker when things are really bad.” He shrugged. “But I don’t think the demons left will try anything. Not when we've received reinforcements, and they've lost most of their force.”

“And,” Rick said, “we have three Slayers and one Willow here. If they are bickering, then they are ready to deal with a lot of demons.”

“I’m not bickering!” Vi protested.

Xander coughed, then smiled at Beckett. “Anyway. I would like to officially welcome you to the stock human vampire hunter association.”

“What?” Beckett jerked.

“Hey! No poaching! I’ve already recruited her for the New York Watchers!” Castle glared at the younger man. Even if he was joking, there were some lines you didn’t cross.

Xander laughed. “More seriously, how are you holding up? You were hurt before we met up.”

“We’re not about to collapse on you,” Beckett said.

Castle nodded. He wasn’t quite certain if the detective simply didn’t want to get carted around - after the third time the pallet truck had a little accident, he thought it would be safer and less painful to crawl if needed rather than sit down on that - but he wasn’t about to contradict her. “Yes. We’ll be feeling this in the morning, but we’re fine.”

“Fine or F.I.N.E.?” Xander asked, then, chuckling, made his way back to the now-moving pallet truck before Beckett caught the joke.

Which reminded Castle that he still needed to get his gun back.

*****​

“Ah… sweet smog of New York! How have we missed you!” Castle exclaimed when they finally left the tunnels. He’d probably have to burn his clothes, and not just because of the dried demon blood and whatever else it was. “Vi! Get the plastic sheets and the deodorisers from the trunk.”

“You know, Castle, if your car ever gets searched, and a cop finds the weapons, and the plastic sheets, you’ll have to answer a few rather pointed questions,” Beckett said.

“I’ll point them at my hunting license, and the pictures taken from my trip to the Everglades.” Rick grinned.

“Did you think of that before or after you were searched for the first time?” Beckett raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, look, they got a van ready for the seal.” Castle pointed at where the Scoobies were manhandling - slayerhandling, to be precise - the seal into the car. “Although a white nondescript van is certainly not the most inconspicuous means to transport something. All the villains use them. Or black vans.”

“Not everyone thinks that life conforms to books, Castle.”

“Detective!” He put his hand over his heart. “Books - and, unfortunately for my author’s soul, movies and TV series even more so - do influence people. I bet that many people would think a white van is more suspicious than say… a purple party car.”

“Did you test that? It sounds oddly specific.” Beckett coked her head to the side. Lisa was still holding her hand, and hadn’t spoken a word in an hour.

“No.” It hadn’t been a real test, after all.

“Involuntarily.” Vi was there, grinning.

“Frumpy. Dumpy. Convent,” Castle said, glaring at her. They had agreed to never speak of that again!

“I’m silent like a grave!” Vi said.

“Which, given our experience, isn’t always that silent.”

“A graveyard is actually far more quiet than any flat in New York,” Spike cut in. “Even in Sunnydale, where there were more undead in graveyards than corpses, I never had to deal with loud neighbours as much as in London.”

“That’s because you killed your neighbours in Sunnydale,” Xander said.

“It was more like pest control. Damn fledglings thought they were Dracula, until I showed them otherwise.” Spike grinned and pulled out a blood bag from his pocket, then cursed when he noticed that it had been punctured during whatever fight his group had been in.

“So, what happens with the seal now?” Beckett said.

“It’ll be transported to a safe place,” Castle said. “Archived with proper documentation, so our descendants will know what it is, and how to deal with any trouble.” There wouldn’t be any forgotten relics in the Council’s archives on Rupert’s watch. With a grin, he added: “Imagine the final scenes from Indiana Jones!”

“I’d rather not imagine that there are that many dangerous magical artifacts around, thank you,” Beckett said dryly.

Castle nodded. “Understandable.”

“That was your cue to tell me that there aren’t that many dangerous magical artifacts, Castle.”

“Ah… I would love to, detective, but I think you also didn’t want me to lie to you, so…” Castle said.

Beckett used a few Russian curses Castle wasn’t familiar with yet. He hoped he’d be able to sneak them past his editor in the next novel.

*****​

Two hours later, everyone was back in Castle’s apartment, showered and with their wounds treated. Castle had turned out to be ‘just bruised’. Given how quickly his family and friends had turned from ‘you’re hurt! Let us help you’ to ‘you’ll be fine then’, he wasn’t quite certain if he should be glad nothing was broken.

He was glad that Beckett wasn’t seriously hurt, of course. The woman was sitting in the most comfortable armchair he had, watching as the Slayers went through the mountain of pizza and other take-out food Alexis, bless her diligent, responsible mind, had ordered as soon as she had heard they had been victorious.

“You said you could wipe the memories of the other victims.”

Castle tensed. He knew what she was about to say. “You want to use it on Marconi?”

She looked at him. “You wouldn’t have to kill him.”

He shook his head. “Even if we could remove everything we needed from his memory - that would need a thorough interrogation, which I doubt we could do while he’s under guard - that kind of memory loss would be investigated, since his lawyers would insist. And I’d rather not let everyone know that their memories can be removed - or even altered.”

“You’d have a man killed for that?”

“No. But I’d have a man killed for working with demons against humanity.” Marconi deserved death. He took a deep breath - which hurt his ribs - and added: “Besides, things have been dealt with already.”

“What?” She stared at him.

Castle wasn’t about to go into details. She was a cop, after all.

Beckett must have realised that, since she scoffed, and looked away.

“You saved a lot of lives today,” Rick said after a moment.

“I’m a cop; it’s what I do. What I chose to do.”

That sounded more than a bit bitter, but Castle didn’t think it would do much good to revisit the topic of how to deal with humans working with demons. Instead he offered her a drink.

Sooner or later, Beckett would come around. You only could discover so many dead people, dead children, until you stopped feeling sorry for the scum who helped demons.

Those were rather gloomy thoughts for a victory party, as Buffy had called it, though. So Castle grinned. “We still need to make certain that our stories match, you know.”

“Stories?”

He pointed at his back. “The cover for our bruises, remember?”

“Ah. Good idea.” She nodded.

“So, what do we tell Agent Snooperson about our sex life? I’ve got a few ideas already!” He leaned forward, smiling widely, while she gaped at him.

“What?”

“I’m just planning ahead!”

“I bet you are!”

She didn’t glare at him. Much. He was making progress!

*****​

 

New York, October 2009

The demon roared, baring fangs the size of her thumb. Claws extended from its hands and blood-red eyes glared at her. She shot it, right between the eyes, but the monster wasn’t hurt. She pulled the trigger again and again, the bullets bouncing off the creature’s thick skin as it slowly closed in on her, it’s mouth opening wider and wider, a forked tongue slithering between the pointed teeth. She ducked under the first swing, but a clawed foot caught her in the stomach, throwing her back against the wall, her breath knocked out of her. Dazed, she could only watch as the demon raised its claws again, unable to dodge the next swipe...

Detective Kate Beckett woke up with a scream, covered with sweat and panting. She was groping for her gun on a nightstand that wasn’t where it should be before she realised that it had just been a nightmare, not real. When she noticed that she was in an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar bed, she gasped again, then remembered she was in Castle’s bed. The bed in Castle’s guest room, she quickly corrected herself - all the innuendo from the Scoobies was corrupting her. She wondered briefly if she’d have had nightmares if she hadn’t slept alone, then buried that thought. It would take more than a warm body and arms wrapped around her to ward off nightmares after what she had seen last night. No matter how tempting it would be to try it. She could blame her nightmares… she shook her head.

Beckett let her head fall back on her pillow, ignoring the pain the sudden movement caused her. It was all Castle’s fault, of course. That cover story of them being lovers, the need to act like it in public… She sighed. She knew Castle would love for the act to be real. He was charming, brave, well-educated, kind, witty, passionate…

But he was also a very good actor, playing the role of an eccentric bestselling author while he hunted demons with superpowered girls and witches. What was an act, and what was his real self? She could trust him with her life - had trusted him with her life a few times now - but what about her heart?

And more importantly: Was he in love with her, or with the character he was creating in his books?

*****​

“Morning,” Kate said, entering Castle’s kitchen.

“Ah, there you are! We were about to draw lots to see who’d have to brave your ire and wake you!” The author greeted her with a smile and a cup of coffee.

She accepted the coffee and took a sip. Just how she liked it. Will had never managed to make that. He hadn’t had an expensive Italian coffee maker, though. She took another sip, sighing.

“A new blend I just ordered. I take it you like it?” Castle asked, beaming at her.

“It’s... good,” she said.

“Only good?” He pouted. “I was assured by the vendor that it would be perfect! I’ve been swindled!”

She chuckled. “If I claim it’s perfect, you might get complacent.”

“Two marriages have me taught better than that,” Castle said.

“Would your ex-wives confirm that claim?” She wasn’t quite certain that she wanted to talk about his past marriages, but she was too curious to change the topic.

“They’d not even admit that I exist, if not for the fact that we still work together,” Castle said. “If Congreve hadn’t been dead for three hundred years before Mary and Gina were even born, I’d suspect they were the source for his famous quote.”

“‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’?” Kate asked.

He beamed at her. “Most think it’s from Shakespeare!”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you quizzing me?” Did he think she was some uneducated cop?

“No, no. Just making conversation. I blame my lack of finesse on my lack of coffee.”

She looked at his half-empty mug, then at him.

He smiled. “Well… I need more coffee than that, after the night we had.” He blinked. “That’s a good line! That’s so going into my next book!”

Kate stared while he grabbed a notebook and wrote it down, shaking her head. To think that she had seen the same man burning down demons just hours before...

She glanced at the food piled on the dinner table in the living room.

“Help yourself before the vacuum cleaners wake up!” Castle said.

Kate glanced at her watch. She usually ate breakfast on the way to work - a bear claw or a doughnut - but she was already late. And it would help her cover story. And let her talk to Castle without any supernaturally-powered eavesdroppers.

“Will you be tracking down the noose demon today?” she asked while filling a plate.

“That depends on whether or not we can get the blood sample. Willow should be up for it - it’s not exactly a difficult spell for her.”

“And how do you plan to get the sample?” Kate could get it, she thought. She had access to the evidence lockers, Lanie knew her too, and wouldn’t think it odd if she visited - and if she timed it right, her friend would be on a break, or distracted by a call… Kate realised that she was turning into a criminal. Castle was corrupting her!

“I’ll call Perlmutter.”

Of course! Perlmutter was routinely faking reports to conceal the existence of demons. He wouldn’t have any trouble - or scruples - to swap the blood sample. Heck, he probably did that anyway, to keep demon blood from showing up in a lab.

“You look disappointed,” Castle said, frowning at her.

“Ah, I blame my lack of coffee,” Kate said. “I was already planning a heist before I was reminded that you have the medical examiners on call.”

“Detective!” Castle sounded both surprised and delighted.

Kate hid her own smile by taking another sip from her coffee.

*****​

“You’re late. Really late, not just on time.”

“And a good morning to you too, Will.” Apparently, the man had reverted back to jealous ex-lover over night.

Kate’s ex-boyfriend didn’t seem to let her remark faze him. Had he been so self-absorbed when they had been a couple, or was that the result of becoming a federal agent? “You never used to be late to work.”

She couldn’t resist. “I never used to have such a talented lover.” Kate smiled widely, sighed a little, and rubbed her shoulder, which still ached from the fight last night. “We didn’t get to sleep until very late last night.”

“Ohh! Details, Beckett, details!”

And she had missed Esposito approaching them, again. Turning to her colleague, she shook her head. “In your dreams, Esposito. I’m not about to kiss and tell.”

“You just did,” Will muttered.

He really was living up to Castle’s latest moniker for him, ‘Agent Annoyance’, Kate thought. She scoffed at him. “That was just a reminder that my private life is none of your business, since you seem to have forgotten that we’re not a couple anymore.”

“Kate! That man is hiding something!” Will hissed. “I got a call this morning, from Quantico. I was told to stop investigating him! Kate! He’s not a mere author!”

“What?” Esposito blinked.

Kate managed to curse. Will should have known better than blurt this out. Her friend was losing it, it seemed. Or, she suddenly thought, he had wanted her colleagues to know this. “Just because other federal agents are willing to tell you to stop abusing your power to investigate my boyfriend instead of working on your case doesn’t mean that there’s something more going on than Castle having friends with some influence. And we already knew that the Mayor is a fan of him.”

“The FBI doesn’t answer to New York’s mayor,” Will said.

He was digging in, she realised. He wouldn’t let this go. “He’s not the only fan of Castle. And as a famous author and father of a teenager, my boyfriend is quite concerned about his private life staying private - a concern many other people share.”

“And how many authors have a ‘bodyguard’ like that girl?”

“She’s got a name,” Esposito said. “Vi.”

Will ignored the detective. “And how many authors and their bodyguards come out of a shootout with a dozen mafiosi without a scratch? They were not even fazed, Kate!”

“Castle has the money to spend on the best,” Kate said. She briefly pondered mentioning that the parents of his ex-wife had been killed by terrorists, but that would just make her boyfri… Castle appear even more suspicious.

“You know what he is hiding!” Will accused her.

“Yes - his private life. Which I am a part of. And you are not.” Kate said. She smiled at him, showing her teeth. “Stop acting like a stalking ex, Will!”

“Marconi is dead.”

“What?” She looked at him, glad she didn’t have to fake her surprise. When had Xander…?

“Heart attack, according to the preliminary report from the medical examiner,” Will said.

“You don’t sound like you believe it.”

“He tries to kill Caste, and then conveniently dies before we can interrogate him.” Will was looking at her as if she had pulled the trigger.

“Wasn’t he under guard?”

“Yes.” Will pressed out.

“Two uniforms?”

“Yes.”

“So, are you trying to tell me that Castle somehow snuck into the hospital, past the two cops standing at the bed of the man, and killed Marconi with a fake heart attack?” Kate scoffed.

“Not him. Her.”

“Vi?” Kate shook her head. “Now she’s not just a bodyguard, but an assassin? And an assassin good enough to kill a man under guard? Without leaving any traces the investigation will uncover?”

Will glared at her. He had to know just how ridiculous this sounded, Kate knew that. But he was right- it had been murder. Or an execution, as Castle called it. It didn’t matter. Will would not let this rest. In his place, she’d not let it rest either.

The special agent shook his head and walked away.

Kate sighed. Then she saw Esposito’s expression. “What?” she snapped.

“Vi could do it, couldn’t she?”

“No.” Beckett shook her head. “She could get to Marconi, and kill him. But without getting noticed, and without leaving traces? No.”

Esposito nodded, but she could tell that he wasn’t convinced either.

*****​

 

New York, October 2009

“Hold the door!”

Kate Beckett, heading out to lunch, saw Esposito hurry towards the elevator. For a moment, she considered pushing the button to close the doors. She didn’t want to deal with her fellow detective right now. But that would just make things worse. So she waited, though frowning, until the man stepped into the elevator.

The doors had barely closed when he started: “So, your boyfriend has friends in very high places.”

“He’s rich, and famous,” Kate said.

He ignored her annoyed tone. “In very different places. The Feds, the Mayor, the British government…”

“He lived in England for ten years. His first wife is from the British Upper Class. Which still means something over there.”

She could tell that he wasn’t buying it. “Enough to get the ex-husband diplomatic immunity ten years after the divorce?”

“What’s your point?” She didn’t quite glare at him, but she saw him flinch and lose his smile, before he straightened up.

“Look, Castle and Vi have a secret, and you know it. It’s nothing illegal, or you’d have arrested him yourself. And the Feds wouldn’t protect him against their own if it was illegal. Too risky with people like your ex.” He took a deep breath. “I just… I want to know. I want in.”

“In?” Kate drew the word out a bit.

“Sorenson might be your ex, but I’ve been working with you for years. You’re not just sleeping with Castle, you’re working with him on… whatever he and Vi do. Marconi was no accident.” He sighed. “I don’t want to be the outsider.”

Kate could understand that, but… he wasn’t there with Ryan, his partner. She sighed. “You think this will give you a better chance with Vi.”

His expression was answer enough.

“It’s not my secret to tell.”

“But you’ll ask?”

She closed her eyes and nodded. She’d dump this on Castle. After all, he had decided to get involved with a cop, he should have known this would happen.

Further conversation was stopped by the elevator doors opening. She shook her head. She wasn’t even sleeping with the man, and he still managed to complicate her entire life pretty much daily.

*****​

That afternoon, Agent Clapton, Will’s partner, called Kate, Ryan and Esposito to him. “We’ve received a report of a missing persons case that might be related to the serial killer. Four people went missing yesterday, all of Russian descent, two of them acquaintances of the murdered family. They were found today, near a hospital. All claim to not remember anything.“

“A likely story,” Esposito said.

“I don’t know any drug that would cause that,” Kate added. It wasn’t even a lie - magic potions didn’t count as drugs.

“According to the investigating officers, their stories remained consistent,” Clapton said.

Ryan frowned. “That’s not really hard if you claim to not remember anything.”

“Yes.” The federal agent nodded.

“Is that the only link to our case?” Kate asked.

“No. The hospital found rope marks on two of them. They were tied up, and struggled. They might be covering something up, but we don’t know what. Did they see the killer? Did they make a deal to be spared?”

“Let me guess: That’s our job to find out?” Esposito asked.

Clapton nodded. “Here are the room numbers of the four.”

Kate took the slip of paper. She really hoped that Willow’s potion worked well - those four had seen her last night, and were unlikely to forget her face, given what they had gone through.

Another worry for her.

*****​

As his text had told her an hour ago, Castle was waiting for her when she left the precinct, leaning against his Shelby in a pose straight out of a car magazine. His face lit up in a smile that made him look ten years younger when he spotted her. “Kate!”

“Castle.” She wasn’t angry, but she had spent an afternoon either worrying that the four former kidnapping victims would recognise her - fortunately they didn’t - and trying to avoid Esposito and Will, and later Ryan. “Did you study that pose?”

He pouted. “It’s supposed to look casual and spontaneous.”

“Well, Castle, it looks like you’re trying too hard. It makes you look like a poser.”

His pout grew more pronounced, and she had to chuckle. Then he had that glint in his eyes, and opened his arms to hug her. And in front of the precinct, she couldn’t really refuse him, could she? And she better made it look good; her cover story was already wearing thin.

Being in his arms felt nice. He smelt nice as well. She wondered if he’d try to kiss her - for their cover. And how she’d react.

“Agent Solong is watching.”

She tensed, then nodded. “Let’s go then.” She’d not kiss Castle just to make a point with her ex.

Once the Shelby was pulling away from the precinct, she sighed. “We’ve got a problem.”

“We do?” Castle sounded less surprised than she had thought. Then again, he probably was used to having problems.

“Will’s superiors have told him to stop looking into your past. He hasn’t taken it well.”

“Ah. If Agent Jealouson doesn’t follow orders, he’ll probably get transferred to somewhere else. Does the FBI have a bureau in Alaska?”

She couldn’t tell if he was serious or not, but rolling her eyes was an appropriate response either way. “I doubt that will stop him. He seems rather obsessed.”

“With me or you? I mean in two completely different senses of the word, of course,” Castle said. “Not that I don’t understand him,” he added, smiling at her. “You’re pretty obsession-worthy.”

She chuckled. “That line can be seen as rather creepy, Castle.”

“Oh.” He blinked. “But you know how I mean it - in the roguishly handsome way, not the creepy stalker way. I’ll leave that to federal pretty boys.”

“Will? A pretty boy?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well…” he drawled, “He’s certainly rather young. And he’s not ruggedly handsome. That’s taken by me. Which means he’s stuck with the pretty boy role.”

“Castle, I know it must be a shock for you, but life’s not a novel.”

He sighed. “Sometimes, it comes far too close.”

She was reminded once again that for all his often childish antics, Castle had lived through things that she would have thought were purely fictional a few months ago. He didn’t show it that often. After a moment, she went on: “Esposito ‘wants in’, as he puts it. He knows you’re hiding something, and he is quite sure that it’s nothing illegal.”

“He wants to hunt demons?” Castle sounded surprised. “He didn’t strike me as the type to believe in such things.”

“He doesn’t. He has no idea what you are doing - just that it’s secret, covered up by two governments, and that involves Vi.”

“Ah!” Castle nodded. “Cherchez la femme! It all makes sense now!”

She didn’t react to the banter. Esposito was a good detective. She had been where he was, a few months ago. Although unlike him, she hadn’t been motivated by a crush. Well, only marginally, at most.

Castle grew serious quickly. “Well… do you trust him?” He kept glancing at her, she noticed.

Did she trust him? With her life when they were at work, yes. But with keeping Castle’s secret? Esposito knew better than to make fun of her love for Castle’s books, but she knew that he wasn’t interested in Fantasy, or the supernatural. And he wasn’t exactly that religious either. “I don’t know how he’ll handle demons.”

“He’s a former soldier,” Castle said, focusing on traffic again. “They’re usually quite good at handling such things. The old council used to recruit a lot of veterans.”

“Used to?”

His wry smile lacked any humour. “That was before the Slayers multiplied. There was just one, later two Slayers. Normal humans had to pick up the slack.” He snorted. “They recruited a lot of veterans, but there were never that many veterans on the payroll at any given moment.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.” He sighed. “Things changed. We don’t lose that many people anymore. But we still take losses. Slayers, Watchers…” he turned his head and looked at her for a moment.

She knew what he meant. “If I had trouble risking my life to protect the people, I would not have become a cop.”

He nodded, then snorted. “Well, we’ll have to ask Vi. It’s her fault, so it’s her responsibility.”

“Do you blame her for him falling for her?”

“No. I mean, if I was younger, not in love with someone else, and not her Watcher, I would probably fall for Vi as well - she’s a great girl. A girl who deserves better than risking her life each night to hunt demons.”

Castle shouldn’t be looking that wistful, Kate thought. Though he had said he was in love with her as well.

“But,” Castle continued, with a snort, “she’s the one constantly flirting with him. So, she has some responsibility.”

“You’re constantly flirting with me,” Kate pointed out.

He nodded with a road smile. “Yes, I am. And I’m fully prepared to take any responsibility resulting from said flirting. Just give the word!”

Kate Beckett was at a loss for words. Was he serious? And if he was, what did he mean? She didn’t know and she couldn’t ask. So she chickened out, as Lanie would say. “In your dreams, Castle!”

“Oh, definitely.” His grin grew even wider.

And she remembered her own dreams.

*****​

 

New York, October 2009

Violet ‘Vi’ O’Malley was handling the news with the maturity and understanding Rick Castle had come to expect from his Slayer when it came to such matters.

“Hah! Men are willing to risk their lives fighting demons for me!” The redhead was grinning widely while she piled a third helping on her plate. Rock was looking forward to again spending less than a Football team’s worth of food per meal once the Scoobies returned to England.

“One man, and he doesn’t know that demons exist, so he doesn’t know that he’s risking his life,” Alexis said. Rick could always count on his responsible daughter to help him deal with Vi’s ego.

Vi snorted. “He suspects that we are secret agents, so he is willing to risk his life for me!”

“You know that men in love act like idiots.” Alexis shook her head, sighing.

“Hey!” Castle protested. “As a man myself, I have to point out that this is slander.”

“I’d say it’s based on empirical evidence,” Dawn said, gesturing with her fork. “After observing Buffy’s boyfriends. Then again, they were in love with my sister, so...”

“So what?” Buffy asked in a flat voice.

“... so they were far too close to me for an unbiased judgement?” Dawn finished, grinning.

The blonde Slayer glared at her, then scoffed. “Anyway, the real question is not if he’s acting stupid, but if he can handle the truth.”

“After all, some of the best demon hunters joined the fight in an attempt to impress a woman,” Willow added, smiling at Castle and Xander.

“So, can he?” Buffy asked, looking straight at Beckett.

The detective sighed. “I don’t know. Finding out that magic exists, that demons exist… that’s bound to turn anyone’s worldview on its head.”

“Well, he was a soldier and was in a war. He already had to deal with the horrors of war, and if that didn’t break him, he can probably handle it,” Xander said.

“He was in Iraq, not Vietnam,” Dawn said.

“Same experience,” Xander said. “I was in the sandbox in 2004 with Riley, for the Temple of Doom.”

“It was a ziggurat, not the Temple of Doom,” Willow corrected him.

“Close enough,” Xander said, between bites.

“Well, even if we don’t think he can handle it, could we stop him from finding out?” Willow asked. “And what about Agent Sorenson?”

Rick wanted to correct her pronunciation of Agent Bothersome’s name, but restrained himself. “I spoke with our contact at Quantico. He’ll have the man reassigned if he doesn’t comply with his orders.”

“That won’t really stop him. This is personal for Will,” Beckett said. “And if Esposito is in, his partner will sooner or later find out as well.”

“Looks like you’re forming your own Scoobie Unit,” Xander said, grinning at Castle.

“You could call it a ‘Scrappie Unit’,” Dawn added. “I charge less royalties than Xander.”

“We already had a Scoobie Unit.” Alexis folded her arms. “We’re just expanding the roster.”

“We haven’t yet decided on anything,” Rick pointed out. “And we’re not taking Agent Snooperson.” That would be a really bad idea. There wasn’t enough room for both of them in one city. Even one as big as New York.

“We have to deal with him, though.” Beckett shook her head. “He will not give up otherwise.” With a glare at Rick, she added. “And by ‘dealing’, I don’t mean wiping his memories or worse.”

Rick laid his hand on his chest. “Perish the thought! I’d never even think of such a thing.” Far too simple, after all. In his next book, he’d turn the man’s expy into a dog, probably. A clumsy, slobbering dog annoying Nicky Heat until she sent him to the pound to get fixed…

“Dad! No spacing out!” Alexis’s voice ended his brief fantasy.

“What about using the Secret Agent cover for the pig? The Federal pig, not the local one,” Spike asked. Castle had ignored the vampire, despite the noise he had made sucking from his blood bag, but that actually was a good idea!

“Would that even work?” Faith asked.

“Well, the detective here thought we were the Avengers, and she’s smarter than the Fed,” Vi said. Her tone was not quite as complimentary, though, and the smile she sent at the detective was a bit too wide.

His Slayer was playing dominance games again. It had to be the proximity of Buffy and Faith, Castle thought. He quickly said: “It can be done. It’s what people expect when they notice us. It won’t be hard to fool such a rigid mind.”

“And what about the other guy? The other guys?”

“Buffy means Esposito and Ryan,” Dawn added, not so helpfully.

“Esposito wants in, so I guess claiming we’re secret agents won’t work,” Rick said.

“It won’t,” Beckett said. “Since I’m obviously involved, he’ll not accept that he can’t be involved.” The detective was glaring at Vi as if that was her fault.

“So we’ll recruit him, or them. Can I do the speech?” Xander said, smiling.

“No you can’t!” Buffy said. “The last time you did the speech, the guy wanted to shoot you.”

“He wanted to shoot me before I even had started the speech!” the young man defended himself.

“See? You’re obviously not suited for that.” Buffy nodded.

“You’re just too shootable, Xander,” Faith said, chuckling. The Slayer had finished her own meal, and was flipping a throwing knife around in her hand.

Xander pouted, but the rest of the Scoobies nodded.

“It has to be done by a stuffy, old Watcher,” Buffy said. “It’s tradition.”

“We don’t have a stuffy old Watcher,” Rick pointed out. Then he noticed that everyone was smiling or chuckling at him, even Beckett, and Alexis was rolling her eyes.

*****​

“I’m not old, nor stuffy.”

He wasn’t, Rick knew. He was the very opposite of old and stuffy. Well, of stuffy. Age was creeping up on him - but only on his body. And even there... “I still would be too young to become a Roman Consul!” That required a minimum age of forty-two.

He thought it was a compelling argument, but his Slayer, driving the Shelby again, chuckled. “Trying to use such an argument is proof that you’re old!”

He turned his head to get Beckett, who was sitting on the back bench, to support him, but the woman was grinning at him. “She’s correct, Castle.”

“See? Beckett would know, being old as well!” Vi said.

The grin on the detective’s face turned into a frown, and Castle turned away so she’d not see his smile. She must have heard him snort, though, despite his best efforts, so he changed the topic. It was a boring topic anyway. It wasn’t that he was opposed to doing the speech - telling people that the world was older than they thought never got old - but to think he was considered the best stand-in for Rupert… it was probably a compliment. He cleared his throat. “Let’s focus on catching our lynching demon!”

“That’s what we have been doing,” Vi said, “while you were dealing with your midlife crisis.”

Castle told himself that for a Watcher, being old enough for others to mistakenly assume he was having a midlife crisis was a great feat. He sighed.

A few minutes later, they arrived at the location Willow’s spell had picked out.

“Yes! First!” Vi pumped her fist. Then she started cursing when she spotted a familiar bike parked around the corner.

“Did you honestly expect to outrace Faith on a bike?” Castle asked, shaking his head.

“You turned this into a race?” Beckett asked from behind them in a clipped tone.

“We can’t let the demon escape,” Vi said. “We don’t have enough blood to redo the spell multiple times.”

Buffy’s rental pulled in behind them. The blonde was scowling as she stepped out of the car, and Vi’s mood brightened.

Castle sighed. Slayers! He turned to Beckett. “Let’s guard the rear entrance.”

“You’re not storming the house?” Then detective noticed the three Slayers already charging ahead, Buffy kicking the door open while Faith went through the window - the window barred with wooden boards, of the first floor - and Vi was heading to the back. “Ah.”

“Yes,” Rick said, gripping a shotgun and loading it with beanbag rounds. The demon would have to be bound by burying the corpse in a casket with sealing runes inlaid with silver in the lid and a noose with silver threads in the hemp around the neck, and that would be a tad difficult if it lost its head. “It’d be more dangerous to try and get between them and their prey than to fight the noose demon itself. Vi’s been chomping at the bit to kill it for weeks.”

Xander, stepping towards them and carrying a shotgun himself, nodded. “Slayers really like ‘the one that got away’ stories.”

“And they are sore losers!” Dawn chimed in. She was carrying a short-barreled shotgun. Nothing that would pass for a hunting shotgun, but it was easier to conceal. “Trust me, I grew up with Buffy. Never play a board game with her unless you are willing to let her win.”

“I think that’s more a quality of Summers girls,” Xander cut in.

Rick thought that that was a good moment to go and cover the rear of the building. Before he could say so, though, a crash sounded, and a body flew out of the window - of the second floor - and landed on the street with an ugly crunching sound.

“And there’s the demon-possessed corpse,” Xander said. “Notice the lack of screaming and yelling despite the fact that it must have broken several bones.”

Castle wasn’t about to let the young man outdo him. He started to walk towards the twitching corpse. “And take note of its attempt to move with said limbs.”

“Are you going to bag it or talk to it?” Dawn asked.

Castle exchanged a glance with Xander. No appreciation for humour! “We’ll wait for the Slayers - the thing is stronger than a human.” He didn’t want to end up with broken bones himself.

Xander nodded. “Oh, yes. They’ve got the brute force for that.”

The Slayers must have heard them since they insisted that the two of them dug up Brighton’s grave later without lifting a finger - Rick was certain that it didn’t take three Slayers to keep the possessed corpse bound with rope and extra-strength zip ties under control until the casket was ready.

But at least that was one demon bound and sealed off again. And Castle had proven that he wasn't old.

*****​

 

New York, October 2009

“I would have expected you to comment how this ending was rather anti-climatic by now.”

Rick Castle looked up from his laptop, where he was typing up the report of the sealing of the noose demon. Beckett was smirking at him, holding one of his crossbows in one hand. It occurred to him right then that their roles seemed to have been swapped - she was poking around in his office while he was trying to finish his work.

But it was a good question, and no one could say he could not take it as well as giving it. He grinned at her. “Oh, I never complain when it means less work for me.”

“I would have thought that it would make writing your next book harder.” The detective sighted the crossbow at the hellhound head mounted on his wall, then put it back on the wall.

“Oh, it doesn’t really make it harder. I never stay that close to the real events, or give too many actual details, lest our enemies gain information we don’t want them to have,” Castle said.

She frowned. “That means at least some demons know that you’re writing stories based on real events.”

“Oh, yes. Not all of them, but such things spread. I am a famous author, after all, and you’d be surprised how many demons like to read Fantasy stories.” He smirked. “Although I think the fact that the demons tend to lose in most series offends them.”

“Didn’t anyone try to attack you? Or at least try to find out why you know so much about demons and Slayers?” Beckett had stopped fiddling with his various weapons, and was looking straight at him.

He shrugged. “I’m not exactly hiding. Vi and I did put the fear of the Slayer into the local demons, after all, and we weren’t wearing disguises. That would have been tacky.” Although a scarf, and a domino mask, and a hat… he shook his head. Vi would have never let him forget it. And the Scoobies… Well, Xander would have probably thought it was cool.

“You haven’t actually answered my question.” She was staring at him now. Not quite glaring, but clearly disapproving.

Rick sighed. There were disadvantages to dating, or courting, smart women. The advantages far outweighed them, of course. “Yes, I’ve been attacked, although not that often - the Council takes a dim view of demons attacking us, and we make quite impressive efforts to demonstrate that on anyone doing it. Vi’s a good bodyguard, though.” He chuckled. “It’s even sort of nice not to have to chase them down all the time.” When he saw her glare at him, he grimaced and spread his hands. “Sorry, that kind of humour tends to grow on you.”

“I was afraid of that,” she said, sitting down on the edge of his desk. Just like he used to do on hers. He wondered if that was deliberate or unconscious. And, he added to himself, it meant she was not about to stop hunting demons with him. “But what about your mother and daughter?”

And she had just called out the elephant in the room. He sighed deeply and leaned back in his seat. “We do what we can to keep them safe. Teach them how to spot demons, how to take precautions, to be security-conscious - we’d have to do that anyway, given my wealth and fame, we’re just adding supernatural threats to the mix.”

“And are Martha and Alexis heeding the advice?”

He almost glared at her, but it wasn’t her fault that his family was being so unreasonable.

Beckett snorted. “They won’t let you lock them up somewhere safe, hm?”

He shook his head. “Mother uses her career as an excuse, and Alexis has been wanting to become a Watcher since she was first told about demons.” And damn Mary for that! Five -year-olds were not supposed to be told that yes, there might be monsters under the bed!

“They’re your family.” She seemed oddly pleased.

“Alexis is supposed to be the responsible one in the family.” Wanting to become a Watcher wasn’t responsible. Why couldn’t she have gotten a tattoo instead, for her teenage rebellion? But it was a done deal. He had accepted that. That didn’t mean he had to like it, of course.

“She is.” The woman chuckled.

Rick pouted at her. But he had walked straight into that one. “You haven’t been wearing a mask yourself.”

“I’m also not a famous bestselling author.”

She didn’t have to say this as if that was a bad thing, Castle thought. “But you’ll be famous too.”

“What?” She snorted. “And how, please would I end up famous?”

Castle didn’t mention that if they started dating officially her pictures would be plastered over the yellow press society pages and several blogs. He didn’t want to appear as if he was presuming something, Even if he was, and with good reason. “You’re the muse and role model for my next book. Have you forgotten our dear friendly reporter, Miss Varshney?”

“Didn’t she tell you to call her ‘Jane’?” Apparently, Beckett hadn’t forgotten nor forgiven the reporter.

“I don’t always do what I’m told.” Rick shrugged. He knew better than to appear too friendly with the reporter, given Beckett’s obvious dislike of her. “But her article’s just the start. Have you looked into the comments on my forum?”

“Do you honestly think I read your forums? She chuckled, but to Castle, it sounded a bit forced.

He narrowed his eyes, then grinned. “Why, yes, I do think so. I believe that if I had Willow investigate my oldest and most active fans, I’d discover a username belonging to you, Miss ‘Beckett, with two ‘t’s at the end’.”

She was actually blushing! He smiled widely. “So… you know what my fans are writing.”

“Yes. And you need better moderators, Castle. Some of those posts are crossing lines that shouldn’t be crossed.”

He blinked. “That bad? A few were jealous of you, as I recall, but that settled down last I knew.” It wasn’t as if he checked the forum every day. At most, every second day.

“I’m talking about the speculation and stories that claim we’re a couple, Castle,” Beckett said. She was glaring at him as if that was his fault.

“Well… that’s a very easy assumption to make,” Rick said, smiling at her.

“Are you insinuating that you’re so attractive, any woman spending time with you would fall for you?” She had her arms crossed now, frowning, but it looked a bit too defensive to him.

He stood up and started to walk around his desk. He saw her tense up, but she remained sitting on his desk. Standing up would have been giving ground, and Beckett was too stubborn for that. “No, I’m not.” He was ruggedly handsome, witty and charming, and rich too boot, but that didn’t mean all women would fall for him, given the chance. Just a lot. “But,” he said, “I think you’re far closer to ‘falling for me’ than you want to admit, Detective.” He was standing in front of her, so close, he’d just have to move his leg a little bit to touch hers.

“And on what facts do you base that entirely mistaken assumption, Castle?” She was meeting his eyes, raising her chin.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” He smiled. “You could be home already, sleeping. Or watching TV. Or reading. Or talking with the others.” She snorted. “With Alexis,” he said. She had a soft spot for his daughter. “But you’re here. In my office, fiddling with things you’ve seen before. Doing essentially nothing.” He leaned forward, bringing his face closer to hers and lowered his voice. “I know the signs. I’ve been doing the same, after all. You want to be with me.”

She wasn’t giving any ground, and she was lowering her voice as well. “You’re projecting.”

“But I’m not wrong.”

Her mouth was slightly open, but she wasn’t saying anything. Her tongue flicked over her lips. He licked his. He just had to lean forward a bit more and their lips would meet. He wanted her, had wanted her since he had seen her. And she wanted him. He was certain of that.

“Come on! Kiss already!”

Vi’s voice startled them both, and Castle took a step back while he turned around. There was his Slayer, and next to her, his daughter. Vi was shaking her head at him while Alexis had that sheepish expression on her face that told him that she was feeling very guilty for whatever she had done. Walking in on him, in this case.

He sighed. The moment was ruined. “I wasn’t aware that we had asked for an audience.”

Vi was, as expected, entirely unrepentant. “If you didn’t want an audience, maybe you should have closed the door before putting the moves on the detective. And in your office, even! I work here as well!”

“The door was closed,” Castle pointed out.

“Well, it wasn’t locked.” Vi shrugged.

“And why did you decide to enter anyway, instead of celebrating with the rest?”

“Ah… I wanted her help to get you to go to bed, instead of working too late, Dad,” Alexis said. Her smile looked more than a bit forced. “Sorry. I didn’t know that you weren't working.”

“Right,” Vi said. “So… we’ll leave the detective to tuck you in. Good night!”

Castle didn’t have to look at Beckett to know she would do no such thing. Not now.

*****​

 

New York, October 2009

Kate Beckett was sitting on the bed in her room - in Castle’s guest room, she corrected herself. She was rather annoyed, no, angry, with Vi. It wasn’t as if she had been sleeping with Castle, but it wasn’t any business of that Slayer. That was just between her and Castle. His family, which included that infuriating girl, had given her their blessing anyway, she reminded herself half-jokingly.

Not that it mattered. Kate wasn’t even quite certain whether she’d have kissed Castle, or pushed him away. No, that wasn’t quite true. She closed her eyes and lay back on the bed. She had been about to kiss Castle. Caught in the heat of the moment, she would probably have gone further than that. Castle certainly wouldn’t have stopped.

She smiled at that thought. The man had been after her ever since they had met for the second time. He had gone to quite length, too, to court her. She chuckled - she was now using the vocabulary from his medieval fantasy books.

In any case, it was very flattering, she had to admit to herself. Castle could have, well, not any woman he wanted, but there were not that many women who’d resist a rich, famous, handsome and charming man. A good father, even. Well, maybe she’d adjust that to ‘passable’.

Kate sighed. She wanted him, too. Wanted to jump his bones, as her father would say. Had for a while, too, even if she hadn’t wanted to admit it. Hadn’t wanted to be a groupie, or even worse, a gold digger. She clenched her teeth. She knew that that was what people would think about her, should she and Castle start to date. She had thought so herself about some of his past girlfriends after skimming the society pages of a magazine left in the break room. And she had read some of the comments on Castle’s forums, after that stupid article. Thank god she had never revealed her username.

The detective snorted. What went around came around, indeed. It would be worse this time, of course. It had just been speculation, back then. Mostly based on that picture, ‘The author and his muse’, and some suggestive lines written by that woman. Things had died down after a while, when she and Castle hadn’t been seen in public together, and had never confirmed the rumours.

She blinked. They recently had confirmed the rumours, at least as far as her colleagues were concerned. The other cops didn’t know it was just a cover story. And the news would spread. Sooner rather than later the newspapers would hear about it. And dig out all those old pictures and speculation.

“Damn.” She had to tell her father before he read about her and Castle in the newspaper. Or was informed by others, like his neighbour, Mrs. Brown. But what should she tell him? That it was all a cover story? He’d ask what the cover was for. And he’d worry. Well, she’d have to tell him about demons anyway. If something happened to him because he had remained ignorant of the dangers, or because some demon wanted to hurt her family… Kate shook her head. She couldn’t lose him. She had almost lost him to alcohol, after her mother.

But it wasn’t just a cover story. She was attracted to the man, no matter how infuriating he could be. Of course, after she had learned that demons and magic were real, she had seen many of his annoying antics in a new light. All those absurd, seemingly delusional theories were neither absurd nor delusional. Since then, she had seen the real Rick Castle. The Watcher. The father. The mentor. And she liked what she had seen. Very much.

So, why hadn’t she jumped his bones already? Just because she didn’t want others, people she didn’t know, to think she was a gold digger, or a fangirl? If she cared about what others thought, she’d not have joined the police. Was she just too stubborn for her own good?

Kate frowned. That was what Lanie had been telling her. Of course, Lanie didn’t know what was really going on. Which didn’t mean, though, that her friend was wrong.

She muttered a curse to the ceiling. She was too stubborn, too proud for her own good. Like a character in some of those cheap romances she only read when she was caught on a flight without a real book. Well, she was about to become a character in a fantasy novel. A fantasy novel series. And people would speculate just how closely Nicky Heat mirrored herself. And it would be all Castle’s fault. His and that journalist’s.

Kate rolled on her stomach and stared at her pillow. None of that really mattered that much. In the end, all those problems were just excuses. What mattered was what she wanted. Well, she knew what she wanted. And she wasn’t the kind of woman who let others decide her life for her.

She stood up. She didn’t have many clothes in the guest room here. Just enough so she could change after a messy fight with demons. For a few days in a row. She sighed. She had been moving in for some time now. What she didn’t have here was lingerie. She had practical underwear, the sort no redhead could tease her about. The sort she didn’t really want to wear for tonight. The sleepwear she had was practical as well. Although… she glanced at the door and smiled.

*****​

A few minutes later she was walking towards Castle’s bedroom. Halfway there, Vi appeared in front of her. She hadn’t heard or seen the Slayer move and jerked back before she could control herself.

Vi looked at her, at the thin and not too long bathrobe she was wearing, and frowned. “Are you taking a bath now?”

Kate met the Slayer’s eyes and smirked. “No.”

Judging by the redhead’s surprised expression, she understood what Kate meant. The detective smiled sweetly, nodded at her, and walked past.

Vi’s next words stopped her, though. “Are you doing this to prove something?”

“Hardly.” Kate snorted and turned around to look at her. “This has nothing to do with you. Or anyone else but Castle and me.”

Vi stared at her for a few moments, then slowly, almost reluctantly nodded. “I see.”

“Good.”

Kate turned away, but once again the Slayer spoke just when she was about to go on: “If you hurt him they’ll never find your body.”

Kate looked over her shoulder at the girl. “Shouldn’t you be polishing a shotgun while you say this?”

Vi chuckled. “I’m a Slayer; there’s no need for that.”

Kate shook her head and continued towards Castle’s bedroom, knocking on his door. Belatedly, she realised that she’d look rather silly if Castle was still in his office. Then she heard the muffled “Yes?” from inside. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and walked in.

Castle had been about to head to bed, already in his pajamas. He was standing there, next to his bed, as if he had been frozen, staring at her with an open mouth while she pushed the door behind her closed with her foot.

She saw him starting to smile, looking vulnerable for a second, before his smile widened. He opened his mouth, but she put a finger on her lips before he could say anything. Then she locked the door.

Turning back to him, she opened the belt holding her robe closed. He swallowed, then licked his lips.

Kate slowly pulled the robe open and let it slide down over her shoulders, to the ground. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath it.

Castle took a deep breath himself, then, staring at her body while she slowly walked over to him. She had been a bit nervous, but seeing his expression, her confidence grew with each step she took, until she was standing in front of him, as close as she had been in his office.

She ran her hands over his chest, feeling his muscles under the thin top, then grabbed the back of his head while she felt his arms wrap around her nude body.

Their lips met and whatever doubts Kate had still been harboring vanished.

No one interrupted them this time.

*****​