Richard Castle, Watcher: New York, October 2009 - Part 1
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: No one liked the Feds taking over a case. It was even worse if it was the ex of the girl you loved who was taking over the case.
New York, October 2009
There were things a famous author and veteran demon hunter didn’t need to encounter in the morning. A gaggle of men in cheap suits taking up space in the bullpen when he brought his muse her morning coffee was one of them.
“So, they declared our noose-vigilante a serial killer, and now the Feds are trying to poach our case?” Richard Castle wasn’t happy about the situation. A demon on the loose was bad enough, but that demon attracting the FBI’s attention - and not even the attention of the agents who knew about the supernatural - was worse. But worst was that among the agents that had arrived at the Precinct to take over was Special Agent Sorenson.
“Shh. They can hear you.” Detective Beckett made a shushing notion at him before the men in suits turned their attention to them. At least Beckett didn’t sound too happy to see Mister FBI.
“Agent Soso! Nice to meet you again!” Castle beamed at the man.
“It’s Sorenson, Mister Castle.” The agent didn’t smile in return.
“Oh, excuse me. I was thinking of the character in my next book.” Castle noted with well-hidden satisfaction that that made the agent twitch and Beckett grin, briefly.
“Book?” A tall, lanky agent who had been following Sorenson asked. Smiling, he introduced himself. “Agent Clapton.”
“I’m Richard Castle. You might have heard of me.” Rick smiled back.
“He’s an author who’s following the detective around in the hope of getting inspiration for his fantasy novels,” Sorenson cut in.
“Bestselling author, thank you,” Castle corrected the agent. “He’ll be a bumbling agent in my next book, messing up the work of the main character, the smart and sassy detective dealing with demonic cases.”
“And I’m Vi, his bodyguard and driver.” His Slayer beamed at the agents. She didn’t seem to mind that their expressions pretty much showed they thought she was Castle’s lover. Well, Sorenson’s expression probably showed his opinion of Castle’s work more than that of Rick’s private life.
“This is now a federal investigation, Mister Castle. Whatever deal you have made with the city’s mayor doesn’t matter anymore.” Sorenson glared at Rick. “And if I find you sniffing around our scenes I’ll have you arrested and tried for obstruction of justice.”
“Oh, do not worry. I’m busy researching an old case from the 19th century. A vigilante who hung his victims from trees. I’m going with the hypothesis that he returned from the dead to continue his crusade against criminals who escaped the law.” Rick waited until the agent drew breath to answer him, then continued: “For my next book, of course.” Then he leaned forward, and his smile slipped while he lowered. “And should you try to keep me from researching a historical case that’s 150 years old, then I’ll bury you. With my lawyer. He managed to get the better of two of my ex-wives’ lawyers, an agent trying to restrict me from researching ancient history for petty reasons won’t even be a challenge.”
Vi snickered, having heard him despite the distance. Beckett grimaced, but acted as if she hadn’t heard it. Agent Clapton hadn’t heard it - he had been busy checking Vi’s permits. And, apparently, talking shop about guns. Castle had thought he had heard the remains of a faint Texan accent…
“Anyway… we’ll be off this ‘federal case’ now, Agent,” Castle grinned at him, then turned to smile to Beckett. “We’re still on for the evening, I hope. I’m thinking Italian, there’s this new spaghetti recipe… to die for. I’ll tell you all about the next book too.” Glancing back at the FBI agent, he added: “Before you blow a gasket: All we’ll be talking about are demons and other supernatural stuff. You should know that Kate wouldn’t be as unprofessional as to compromise a case and risk a killer getting away for personal reasons.”
Beckett opened her mouth, then closed it again. “Ah, of course. Around eight?” Of course she had understood what he had been implying. She was brilliant, after all.
Beaming, he said “Splendid! I’m sure you’ll be dressed to kill, as usual.”
“Oh, of course.”
Now that kind of smile had too many teeth for his taste. And health.
*****
“You know, the detective will kill you for implying you’re in a relationship in front of her ex;” Vi mused, back in the Shelby.
“I’m sure she’ll understand that we’ve got a demon to catch and can’t afford to let Agent Testosteroneson’s insecurities interfere with that,” Castle said, with slightly more confidence than he felt.
“She might delay the execution then, until the case is over.” Vi snorted. “I call dibs on your blades.”
“Good enough. By then, she’ll have calmed down.” And maybe also have finally been won over by his ruggedly handsome charm. “And Alexis gets first pick.”
“I’m not sure if you’re far too optimistic about the detective, or too pessimistic about our chances to catch the demon. Probably both.” Vi shook her head.
Castle didn’t deign that with an answer. “We need to get our hands on Dr. Burton’s estate. He might have information about how this demon was summoned or created in the first place.”
“Isn’t that still sealed up by the courts?”
“Until Miller’s heirs have settled their dispute, yes.” Which could take years, given the amount of money involved.
“Oh, goodie. I get to be a catburglar again!” Vi grinned.
“We will get to be catburglars,” Castle corrected her. Vi was smarter than she acted - another legacy Buffy would have to answer for, one day - but she hadn’t his experience in sifting through books. He’d been a librarian for ten years after all, and they couldn’t steal all the books and sort out the relevant ones later. They had to do that on-site.
“You? You’re not a catburglar. More like a dogburglar. You know, slightly clumsy, not as elegant or smart as a cat, loud…”
“Are you quite finished?”
“Let me think… “
“That was a rhetorical question.”
“Oh, touchy!”
Castle sighed. Rupert had been right - Watchers got no respect from their Slayers. He blamed Buffy, again.
*****
“What were you thinking, insinuating that we were a couple?”
Detective Beckett arrived at eight, as beautiful as ever, and, sadly, quite annoyed. At Castle too.
“Good evening, Detective.” He took her coat and hung it on the rack. She was wearing a dress under it, which was a surprise. Before he could comment on that though, she noticed where his eyes had been straying to.
“That’s just to help keep up that cover you forced on me.”
“Ah. Quite ingenious, wasn’t it?”
“Annoying is the word you’re looking for.”
“Oh, come on - being mistaken for my girlfriend is hardly a hardship. Just look at Vi.” He pointed at his Slayer, who was busy in the kitchen polishing off the hors-d’oeuvres not already on the couch table. “Hey!”
Vi stuffed the last canape into her mouth with a grin with just the slightest hint of guilt. Alexis, already sitting on the couch, just shrugged her shoulder - she had long since stopped trying to keep Vi from ‘surplus food’, as the Slayer called anything not already served.
“You always tell people she’s not your girlfriend.”
“And they never believe me anyway.” He frowned for an instant. “It can’t be Esposito or Ryan; they know better than to tease you. So… Sorenson?”
Sighing, Kate sat down and grabbed a salmon canape. “Hello Alexis.” She nodded at the girl. “He told me not to come. When I refused, he tried to order me not to.”
It took an effort for Castle not to grin as he sat down in a seat himself. That had been a very big mistake of the agent - trying to order Beckett around? The headstrong detective hated that.
Kate narrowed her eyes at him. “No comment?”
He shook his head. “I prefer to let stupidity speak for itself.”
“That’s new,” Kate commented.
“Since when?” Vi yelled back from the kitchen. Of course she would have overheard that.
“Dad?” Even his own daughter sounded honestly surprised.
“Hey!” He acted all wounded, but noted with pleasure that the detective laughed at that. Her face softened for a moment, losing that hint of bitterness and grim stubbornness.
Vi joined them carrying a tray of drinks. Non-alcoholic ones. “So, did the agent act all macho-viking?”
“No,” Beckett shook her head. “He was all about rules and regulations and how that meant he could tell me what to do in my private time.”
“He actually thought you would be unprofessional?” Castle was surprised. Maybe the fed didn’t know his ex as well as Rick had thought.
“Thank you for the vote of confidence, but you are aware that we’re about to break those regulations, aren’t you?” Beckett raised her eyebrows at him.
“Only if the FBI actually made headway in the case. Which I doubt, since they’re looking for a human killer.”
“They’re looking for Miller’s helper.”
“Oh.” Maybe Soandson was a bit more capable than Castle had thought. Or lucky. Or it was Clapton. “That might make breaking into Miller’s house a bit more difficult.”
“What?!”
If Beckett had been drinking, Castle would now be wearing orange juice.
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: No one liked the Feds taking over a case. It was even worse if it was the ex of the girl you loved who was taking over the case.
New York, October 2009
There were things a famous author and veteran demon hunter didn’t need to encounter in the morning. A gaggle of men in cheap suits taking up space in the bullpen when he brought his muse her morning coffee was one of them.
“So, they declared our noose-vigilante a serial killer, and now the Feds are trying to poach our case?” Richard Castle wasn’t happy about the situation. A demon on the loose was bad enough, but that demon attracting the FBI’s attention - and not even the attention of the agents who knew about the supernatural - was worse. But worst was that among the agents that had arrived at the Precinct to take over was Special Agent Sorenson.
“Shh. They can hear you.” Detective Beckett made a shushing notion at him before the men in suits turned their attention to them. At least Beckett didn’t sound too happy to see Mister FBI.
“Agent Soso! Nice to meet you again!” Castle beamed at the man.
“It’s Sorenson, Mister Castle.” The agent didn’t smile in return.
“Oh, excuse me. I was thinking of the character in my next book.” Castle noted with well-hidden satisfaction that that made the agent twitch and Beckett grin, briefly.
“Book?” A tall, lanky agent who had been following Sorenson asked. Smiling, he introduced himself. “Agent Clapton.”
“I’m Richard Castle. You might have heard of me.” Rick smiled back.
“He’s an author who’s following the detective around in the hope of getting inspiration for his fantasy novels,” Sorenson cut in.
“Bestselling author, thank you,” Castle corrected the agent. “He’ll be a bumbling agent in my next book, messing up the work of the main character, the smart and sassy detective dealing with demonic cases.”
“And I’m Vi, his bodyguard and driver.” His Slayer beamed at the agents. She didn’t seem to mind that their expressions pretty much showed they thought she was Castle’s lover. Well, Sorenson’s expression probably showed his opinion of Castle’s work more than that of Rick’s private life.
“This is now a federal investigation, Mister Castle. Whatever deal you have made with the city’s mayor doesn’t matter anymore.” Sorenson glared at Rick. “And if I find you sniffing around our scenes I’ll have you arrested and tried for obstruction of justice.”
“Oh, do not worry. I’m busy researching an old case from the 19th century. A vigilante who hung his victims from trees. I’m going with the hypothesis that he returned from the dead to continue his crusade against criminals who escaped the law.” Rick waited until the agent drew breath to answer him, then continued: “For my next book, of course.” Then he leaned forward, and his smile slipped while he lowered. “And should you try to keep me from researching a historical case that’s 150 years old, then I’ll bury you. With my lawyer. He managed to get the better of two of my ex-wives’ lawyers, an agent trying to restrict me from researching ancient history for petty reasons won’t even be a challenge.”
Vi snickered, having heard him despite the distance. Beckett grimaced, but acted as if she hadn’t heard it. Agent Clapton hadn’t heard it - he had been busy checking Vi’s permits. And, apparently, talking shop about guns. Castle had thought he had heard the remains of a faint Texan accent…
“Anyway… we’ll be off this ‘federal case’ now, Agent,” Castle grinned at him, then turned to smile to Beckett. “We’re still on for the evening, I hope. I’m thinking Italian, there’s this new spaghetti recipe… to die for. I’ll tell you all about the next book too.” Glancing back at the FBI agent, he added: “Before you blow a gasket: All we’ll be talking about are demons and other supernatural stuff. You should know that Kate wouldn’t be as unprofessional as to compromise a case and risk a killer getting away for personal reasons.”
Beckett opened her mouth, then closed it again. “Ah, of course. Around eight?” Of course she had understood what he had been implying. She was brilliant, after all.
Beaming, he said “Splendid! I’m sure you’ll be dressed to kill, as usual.”
“Oh, of course.”
Now that kind of smile had too many teeth for his taste. And health.
*****
“You know, the detective will kill you for implying you’re in a relationship in front of her ex;” Vi mused, back in the Shelby.
“I’m sure she’ll understand that we’ve got a demon to catch and can’t afford to let Agent Testosteroneson’s insecurities interfere with that,” Castle said, with slightly more confidence than he felt.
“She might delay the execution then, until the case is over.” Vi snorted. “I call dibs on your blades.”
“Good enough. By then, she’ll have calmed down.” And maybe also have finally been won over by his ruggedly handsome charm. “And Alexis gets first pick.”
“I’m not sure if you’re far too optimistic about the detective, or too pessimistic about our chances to catch the demon. Probably both.” Vi shook her head.
Castle didn’t deign that with an answer. “We need to get our hands on Dr. Burton’s estate. He might have information about how this demon was summoned or created in the first place.”
“Isn’t that still sealed up by the courts?”
“Until Miller’s heirs have settled their dispute, yes.” Which could take years, given the amount of money involved.
“Oh, goodie. I get to be a catburglar again!” Vi grinned.
“We will get to be catburglars,” Castle corrected her. Vi was smarter than she acted - another legacy Buffy would have to answer for, one day - but she hadn’t his experience in sifting through books. He’d been a librarian for ten years after all, and they couldn’t steal all the books and sort out the relevant ones later. They had to do that on-site.
“You? You’re not a catburglar. More like a dogburglar. You know, slightly clumsy, not as elegant or smart as a cat, loud…”
“Are you quite finished?”
“Let me think… “
“That was a rhetorical question.”
“Oh, touchy!”
Castle sighed. Rupert had been right - Watchers got no respect from their Slayers. He blamed Buffy, again.
*****
“What were you thinking, insinuating that we were a couple?”
Detective Beckett arrived at eight, as beautiful as ever, and, sadly, quite annoyed. At Castle too.
“Good evening, Detective.” He took her coat and hung it on the rack. She was wearing a dress under it, which was a surprise. Before he could comment on that though, she noticed where his eyes had been straying to.
“That’s just to help keep up that cover you forced on me.”
“Ah. Quite ingenious, wasn’t it?”
“Annoying is the word you’re looking for.”
“Oh, come on - being mistaken for my girlfriend is hardly a hardship. Just look at Vi.” He pointed at his Slayer, who was busy in the kitchen polishing off the hors-d’oeuvres not already on the couch table. “Hey!”
Vi stuffed the last canape into her mouth with a grin with just the slightest hint of guilt. Alexis, already sitting on the couch, just shrugged her shoulder - she had long since stopped trying to keep Vi from ‘surplus food’, as the Slayer called anything not already served.
“You always tell people she’s not your girlfriend.”
“And they never believe me anyway.” He frowned for an instant. “It can’t be Esposito or Ryan; they know better than to tease you. So… Sorenson?”
Sighing, Kate sat down and grabbed a salmon canape. “Hello Alexis.” She nodded at the girl. “He told me not to come. When I refused, he tried to order me not to.”
It took an effort for Castle not to grin as he sat down in a seat himself. That had been a very big mistake of the agent - trying to order Beckett around? The headstrong detective hated that.
Kate narrowed her eyes at him. “No comment?”
He shook his head. “I prefer to let stupidity speak for itself.”
“That’s new,” Kate commented.
“Since when?” Vi yelled back from the kitchen. Of course she would have overheard that.
“Dad?” Even his own daughter sounded honestly surprised.
“Hey!” He acted all wounded, but noted with pleasure that the detective laughed at that. Her face softened for a moment, losing that hint of bitterness and grim stubbornness.
Vi joined them carrying a tray of drinks. Non-alcoholic ones. “So, did the agent act all macho-viking?”
“No,” Beckett shook her head. “He was all about rules and regulations and how that meant he could tell me what to do in my private time.”
“He actually thought you would be unprofessional?” Castle was surprised. Maybe the fed didn’t know his ex as well as Rick had thought.
“Thank you for the vote of confidence, but you are aware that we’re about to break those regulations, aren’t you?” Beckett raised her eyebrows at him.
“Only if the FBI actually made headway in the case. Which I doubt, since they’re looking for a human killer.”
“They’re looking for Miller’s helper.”
“Oh.” Maybe Soandson was a bit more capable than Castle had thought. Or lucky. Or it was Clapton. “That might make breaking into Miller’s house a bit more difficult.”
“What?!”
If Beckett had been drinking, Castle would now be wearing orange juice.