Richard Castle, Watcher: New York, September 2009 - Part 4
Richard Castle, Watcher
Author: Starfox5
Rating: FR18
Crossover: “Castle”
Written for: TtH August Fic A Day Challenge
Disclaimer: BtVS/AtS characters belong to Joss Whedon/Mutant Enemy. Castle Characters belong to Beacon Pictures and ABC Studio. Please do not copy or take this story without my permission.
Summary: Surrounded by gangsters, Beckett exposed, and no weapon at hand... Castle had seen worse.
New York, September 2009
Richard Castle was in a bind. The thug had stopped leering at Beckett and was now glaring at her instead. Two more gangsters were on the way, attracted by the commotion, and the demon-concierge - was that like a gatekeeper of hell, he briefly wondered - had gripped the detective’s arm.
He was unarmed - mostly, he still had a stake up his sleeve - with Vi only carrying a few knives, but they could take those, and Kusmich. But there were too many people around. Too many witnesses, and potential victims of stray shots - he didn’t doubt the the Russians would hesitate to shoot. So he put a hand on Vi’s arm when he saw the Slayer tense, met Beckett’s eyes for a fraction of a second, and steered his Slayer after Kusmich. the man had just briefly stopped and glanced at the scene with the detective before continuing towards the door in the back. The same door, so Castle thought, the gangsters would drag Beckett through as well.
Perfect. Or close to it. He wasn’t that picky.
Kusmich was walking a bit faster. The man probably wanted to get them into the poker room before the thugs dragged Beckett into the torture room. Natasha easily matched his stride, despite her six inch heels. Castle risked a subtle glance - Beckett was now cornered by three thugs, and one demon, and they were obviously waiting.
Kusmich reached the backdoor, nodding at the guard there. That man was very tall, and his muscles would make Schwarzenegger jealous. Castle looked at Vi, but she wasn’t showing any reaction, so it was probably steroids, and not demonic blood.
They passed the door - thick, sturdy, and sound-proof as well, since as soon as it closed, Castle couldn’t hear the music from the club anymore. Which worked both ways. Kusmich started to talk again. “Welcome to our private rooms…” was as far as he got before Vi punched him in the gut, doubling him over. She withdrew her fist, holding a pistol, and handed it to Castle while dropping the gangster with a blow to the neck. Castle didn’t recognize the model, but as he racked the slide, a 9 mm cartridge fell out. It’d do.
Natasha was staring at them, her mouth open, while Vi hefted the man up and dropped him a few meters to the side, in front of another door. “Don’t mind us. Demon hunting in progress,” Castle said, smiling. The girl gasped and started to run away. Or tried to - she stumbled and fell, then kicked her heels off before scrambling away on bare feet.
“You’ve got to work on your smiles, Rick,” Vi commented, taking up a position next to the door.
“I think it was the gun. It doesn’t look as nice as my usual one,” Rick retorted, and matched her on the other side, gun held at his side.
Just in time - the door was opened again, and the first thug walked in, followed by the two goons dragging Beckett between them. That meant the demon was bringing up the rear.
“Freeze!” Castle said, pointing the gun at the lead thug. The man froze, cursing under his breath.
That was as far as things went according to plan, though. Casel heard a croaking noise, and something slimy wrapped around his arm and hand, ripping the gun out of his grip. He turned his head and saw that it was an elongated tongue the demon had shut out of his suddenly far too wide mouth. Vi slammed the door into the demon, stunning it, and Castle went for the gun, only to be tackled by the led thug.
The gangster hit him like a freight train, bowling the author over and rolling over the ground. Rick managed to shield his head, but a few blows hit his stomach, almost making him lose his meal. He managed to hit the man back, but the thug didn’t seem to feel his blows, at all. One hand closed around his throat, and he had trouble breathing. With the man straddling him, he couldn’t get to his stake. In desperation, he groped around for the gun, it had to be around here somewhere… his fingers closed around something smooth… it wasn’t the gun, it was one of Natasha’s heels!
He hit the thug throttling him with it, several times, until the man let go of his throat with a pained yell, and pressed a hand to his bleeding ear. Coughing, Rick saw the man straddling him had pulled back a bit, out of reflex probably, and hit him in the groin with his makeshift weapon. The thug choked, then whimpered and rolled off Castle.
Panting, Castle was about to look for the pistol once more, but a shot made him freeze up.
“никому не двигаться!”
Beckett was standing there, gun in hand. She’d lost her shoes too, and her dress had seen better days as well. But the two guys who had been holding her were down, one moaning and gripping his groin while stering wide-eyed at the tongue-demon, the other was knocked out and bleeding, sprawled in a heap below a suspicious dent in the wall. Vi was wrapped in demon frog tongue, but seemed to have gotten the upper hand - the monster was looking rather battered, and the tongue seemed to have lost its tension. Her clothes were a lost cause though.
As far as fights went, this had gone well.
While Beckett kept the gun trained on the semi-conscious Russians, Castle frisked them, finding three more pistols, and Vi unwrapped herself from the demon tongue, muttering about slime, clothes and spas owed to her. Everything was back to normal then.
Castle coughed a few times until he was sure his voice was working properly still, then addressed the demon. “Now… we have a few questions. What do you know about Alexei Ivanovich Berezin?”
“я трахну вашу мать!
Castle didn’t know Russian, but that hadn’t sounded helpful, or polite. “Let me introduce my charming friends here. This is, as you probably know already, Detective Beckett. She’s armed and got a temper. And this is Vi, the resident Slayer of New York. You just ruined her favorite outfit. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”
The other thugs were still staring at the demon, as if they had never seen him before. They probably hadn’t. The frog-tongue-demon itself started talking rapidly once Vi hefted him up with one hand. Unfortunately, he was talking in Russian. At least Beckett looked like she understood most of it.
*****
“So… the demon concierge was working with the victim on a ritual to make him tougher and stronger, but hasn’t killed him. The victim was afraid of some unnamed other Russian gangsters. And the tome they used for the ritual is missing.” Castle summed the results up while the three of them were walking back to his car.
“He has an alibi for the time of death, Ryan checked that today already.” Beckett checked her recovered phone for new calls and messages.
“It was a suspect?” Castle asked, surprised. “Never mind - of course it was.”
“What do you think will happen to the demon?”
“It’ll probably run. Those thugs didn’t look like they were happy to discover one of them is a monster. Well, a worse monster than gangsters.”
“We should have killed it. It ruined my outfit!” Vi growled.
“We don’t slay demons for ruining dresses.”
“Well, we should! Buffy would agree with me!” The blonde Slayer probably would.
“It was a slutty outfit anyway. No big loss,” Beckett commented.
“It’s the principle of the thing! If you let them get away with ruining one dress, they’ll do it again, and with more expensive and classier dresses too!” Vi pointed at her ruined top. “Plus, this should count as sexual harrassment too!”
Castle was very carefully not looking at what she pointed at. They didn’t tell you about that when you joined the Watchers.
*****
The next morning, Rick was carefully walking into the bullpen of the 12th Precinct. His bruises were hidden by his shirt, but he could feel each spot on his body that the Russian thug had hit, and even breathing hurt a bit. His only consolation was that the guy would be in much more pain - that stiletto heel had done good work.
Vi of course was all fine again, if still a bit mad about the lost outfit. No matter that it had been rather slutty, even by Slayer standards. Not that Castle would say that.
He walked up to Beckett. The detective didn’t show any signs of the fight they had been in either, but she looked tired at least, and shot him a grateful smile when he put her coffee down on her desk. “Rough night?” he asked.
“Long night,” Beckett answered, with a slight glare. Obviously, she didn’t appreciate his attempts to keep up appearances.
“Any further news on the case?” He took a sip from his own coffee. He really should buy the Precinct a coffee maker of their own, for the breaks.
“No, but…” her desk phone rang, interrupting her. She took the call, listened, and Castle could see her face growing hard. “We’ll be right there.”
She looked at him. “A patrol just found four men, hanging from a tree in the Central park. With an old leather-bound tome placed at their feet.”
“Looks like our noose-demon has not left town.”
And it was messing with their case.
Author: Starfox5
Rating: FR18
Crossover: “Castle”
Written for: TtH August Fic A Day Challenge
Disclaimer: BtVS/AtS characters belong to Joss Whedon/Mutant Enemy. Castle Characters belong to Beacon Pictures and ABC Studio. Please do not copy or take this story without my permission.
Summary: Surrounded by gangsters, Beckett exposed, and no weapon at hand... Castle had seen worse.
New York, September 2009
Richard Castle was in a bind. The thug had stopped leering at Beckett and was now glaring at her instead. Two more gangsters were on the way, attracted by the commotion, and the demon-concierge - was that like a gatekeeper of hell, he briefly wondered - had gripped the detective’s arm.
He was unarmed - mostly, he still had a stake up his sleeve - with Vi only carrying a few knives, but they could take those, and Kusmich. But there were too many people around. Too many witnesses, and potential victims of stray shots - he didn’t doubt the the Russians would hesitate to shoot. So he put a hand on Vi’s arm when he saw the Slayer tense, met Beckett’s eyes for a fraction of a second, and steered his Slayer after Kusmich. the man had just briefly stopped and glanced at the scene with the detective before continuing towards the door in the back. The same door, so Castle thought, the gangsters would drag Beckett through as well.
Perfect. Or close to it. He wasn’t that picky.
Kusmich was walking a bit faster. The man probably wanted to get them into the poker room before the thugs dragged Beckett into the torture room. Natasha easily matched his stride, despite her six inch heels. Castle risked a subtle glance - Beckett was now cornered by three thugs, and one demon, and they were obviously waiting.
Kusmich reached the backdoor, nodding at the guard there. That man was very tall, and his muscles would make Schwarzenegger jealous. Castle looked at Vi, but she wasn’t showing any reaction, so it was probably steroids, and not demonic blood.
They passed the door - thick, sturdy, and sound-proof as well, since as soon as it closed, Castle couldn’t hear the music from the club anymore. Which worked both ways. Kusmich started to talk again. “Welcome to our private rooms…” was as far as he got before Vi punched him in the gut, doubling him over. She withdrew her fist, holding a pistol, and handed it to Castle while dropping the gangster with a blow to the neck. Castle didn’t recognize the model, but as he racked the slide, a 9 mm cartridge fell out. It’d do.
Natasha was staring at them, her mouth open, while Vi hefted the man up and dropped him a few meters to the side, in front of another door. “Don’t mind us. Demon hunting in progress,” Castle said, smiling. The girl gasped and started to run away. Or tried to - she stumbled and fell, then kicked her heels off before scrambling away on bare feet.
“You’ve got to work on your smiles, Rick,” Vi commented, taking up a position next to the door.
“I think it was the gun. It doesn’t look as nice as my usual one,” Rick retorted, and matched her on the other side, gun held at his side.
Just in time - the door was opened again, and the first thug walked in, followed by the two goons dragging Beckett between them. That meant the demon was bringing up the rear.
“Freeze!” Castle said, pointing the gun at the lead thug. The man froze, cursing under his breath.
That was as far as things went according to plan, though. Casel heard a croaking noise, and something slimy wrapped around his arm and hand, ripping the gun out of his grip. He turned his head and saw that it was an elongated tongue the demon had shut out of his suddenly far too wide mouth. Vi slammed the door into the demon, stunning it, and Castle went for the gun, only to be tackled by the led thug.
The gangster hit him like a freight train, bowling the author over and rolling over the ground. Rick managed to shield his head, but a few blows hit his stomach, almost making him lose his meal. He managed to hit the man back, but the thug didn’t seem to feel his blows, at all. One hand closed around his throat, and he had trouble breathing. With the man straddling him, he couldn’t get to his stake. In desperation, he groped around for the gun, it had to be around here somewhere… his fingers closed around something smooth… it wasn’t the gun, it was one of Natasha’s heels!
He hit the thug throttling him with it, several times, until the man let go of his throat with a pained yell, and pressed a hand to his bleeding ear. Coughing, Rick saw the man straddling him had pulled back a bit, out of reflex probably, and hit him in the groin with his makeshift weapon. The thug choked, then whimpered and rolled off Castle.
Panting, Castle was about to look for the pistol once more, but a shot made him freeze up.
“никому не двигаться!”
Beckett was standing there, gun in hand. She’d lost her shoes too, and her dress had seen better days as well. But the two guys who had been holding her were down, one moaning and gripping his groin while stering wide-eyed at the tongue-demon, the other was knocked out and bleeding, sprawled in a heap below a suspicious dent in the wall. Vi was wrapped in demon frog tongue, but seemed to have gotten the upper hand - the monster was looking rather battered, and the tongue seemed to have lost its tension. Her clothes were a lost cause though.
As far as fights went, this had gone well.
While Beckett kept the gun trained on the semi-conscious Russians, Castle frisked them, finding three more pistols, and Vi unwrapped herself from the demon tongue, muttering about slime, clothes and spas owed to her. Everything was back to normal then.
Castle coughed a few times until he was sure his voice was working properly still, then addressed the demon. “Now… we have a few questions. What do you know about Alexei Ivanovich Berezin?”
“я трахну вашу мать!
Castle didn’t know Russian, but that hadn’t sounded helpful, or polite. “Let me introduce my charming friends here. This is, as you probably know already, Detective Beckett. She’s armed and got a temper. And this is Vi, the resident Slayer of New York. You just ruined her favorite outfit. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”
The other thugs were still staring at the demon, as if they had never seen him before. They probably hadn’t. The frog-tongue-demon itself started talking rapidly once Vi hefted him up with one hand. Unfortunately, he was talking in Russian. At least Beckett looked like she understood most of it.
*****
“So… the demon concierge was working with the victim on a ritual to make him tougher and stronger, but hasn’t killed him. The victim was afraid of some unnamed other Russian gangsters. And the tome they used for the ritual is missing.” Castle summed the results up while the three of them were walking back to his car.
“He has an alibi for the time of death, Ryan checked that today already.” Beckett checked her recovered phone for new calls and messages.
“It was a suspect?” Castle asked, surprised. “Never mind - of course it was.”
“What do you think will happen to the demon?”
“It’ll probably run. Those thugs didn’t look like they were happy to discover one of them is a monster. Well, a worse monster than gangsters.”
“We should have killed it. It ruined my outfit!” Vi growled.
“We don’t slay demons for ruining dresses.”
“Well, we should! Buffy would agree with me!” The blonde Slayer probably would.
“It was a slutty outfit anyway. No big loss,” Beckett commented.
“It’s the principle of the thing! If you let them get away with ruining one dress, they’ll do it again, and with more expensive and classier dresses too!” Vi pointed at her ruined top. “Plus, this should count as sexual harrassment too!”
Castle was very carefully not looking at what she pointed at. They didn’t tell you about that when you joined the Watchers.
*****
The next morning, Rick was carefully walking into the bullpen of the 12th Precinct. His bruises were hidden by his shirt, but he could feel each spot on his body that the Russian thug had hit, and even breathing hurt a bit. His only consolation was that the guy would be in much more pain - that stiletto heel had done good work.
Vi of course was all fine again, if still a bit mad about the lost outfit. No matter that it had been rather slutty, even by Slayer standards. Not that Castle would say that.
He walked up to Beckett. The detective didn’t show any signs of the fight they had been in either, but she looked tired at least, and shot him a grateful smile when he put her coffee down on her desk. “Rough night?” he asked.
“Long night,” Beckett answered, with a slight glare. Obviously, she didn’t appreciate his attempts to keep up appearances.
“Any further news on the case?” He took a sip from his own coffee. He really should buy the Precinct a coffee maker of their own, for the breaks.
“No, but…” her desk phone rang, interrupting her. She took the call, listened, and Castle could see her face growing hard. “We’ll be right there.”
She looked at him. “A patrol just found four men, hanging from a tree in the Central park. With an old leather-bound tome placed at their feet.”
“Looks like our noose-demon has not left town.”
And it was messing with their case.