Richard Castle, Watcher: New York, July 2009 - Part 7
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: Demons, Slayers and apocalypses, oh my!
New York, July 2009
“The last one, with the burning house… that was a demon.” Detective Beckett was putting more things together.
Rick Castle nodded. No point in trying to deny it.
“But why didn’t… the coroner is in on this! Perlmutter doing overtime? I should have known!” Beckett hissed, probably angry at herself for missing it. “And the ritual murder! That was a working ritual!”
“Actually no… I made sure that the ritual I wrote about was a fake. But the killer was possessed by a demon, and tried to free it anyway. I’ll certainly not tell any crazy out there how to summon demons! How irresponsible do you think I am?” He blinked. “Don’t answer that please.”
“Yeah. We’ve got enough apocalypses to prevent already!” Vi tried to help. Emphasis on ‘tried’. Castle wondered how many glasses she had drunk already.
“Apocalypses?” Beckett’s voice rose an octave or so.
“Well, technically there haven’t been that many attempted real apocalypses. That means world ending stuff. Only about… hm… less than half a dozen in the last 20 years, depending on how you count them. We just call all the rituals that would destroy a city or so ‘apocalypses’ out of tradition...” Castle trailed off when he noticed that Beckett didn’t seem to be reassured at all. Maybe he should have wondered how much he had drunk so far.
“You’re joking. This is all a big joke, right? Right?” Beckett was glaring at him.
Castle shook his head, a weak smile on his face. “... no? But we’ve got it in hand, really. We’ve foiled every attempt so far.” That should be obvious, really - the world was still around, after all!
“And what about Sunnydale then?”
“Oh. That was a foiled real apocalypse. There was a Hellmouth, and the First Evil was attempting to send its army through, but we sealed the rift. Unfortunately, that caused the town to implode. When I say I’ve seen the hell, I mean the real thing.” He’d always wanted to say that.
Vi nodded eagerly. “We kicked demon ass on their home turf!”
Beckett drank straight from the bottle this time. Castle went and fetched another.
*****
“Good morning, dad!” Alexis’s cheerful voice sent shards of pain through Castle’s head.
“There’s nothing good about this morning,” he muttered. What had he done? There was that warehouse… and then they had met Beckett… oh, right. He remembered. To a point. Somewhere past the second or third bottle, things started to get… fuzzy.
“How much did I drink last night?” he managed to ask.
“I don’t know, dad. I went to bed just a bit after midnight. I’ve got school today,” Castle’s far too sensible daughter answered. “I just wanted to wake you up before I leave. Gran met someone at her party, and stayed the night with him.”
“Well, you did wake me up. Mission accomplished. Now shoo. I need more sleep,” Castle bit out while sledge hammers were pounding his aching head.
“Bye dad!” Alexis waved and started to leave. At the door to his bedroom, she stopped. “I locked the pistol of our guest in the safe.”
Castle blinked. Guest? “Guest?”
Alexis’s smile was hard to read, but Castle though she was a bit gloating, at least. “Detective Beckett is sleeping in the guest room.”
“Oh.” How could he have forgotten that?
*****
“Where is my gun?”
“Good morning to you too, detective. Coffee?” Castle turned to the new arrival in the kitchen with a mug of freshly brewed coffee in his hand, and almost winced. Beckett looked like she should have been still in bed. Or in a detox clinic.
She all but ripped the mug out of his hand and took a mouthful. “Where. Is. My. Gun?”
“It’s locked in the safe, to be, ah, safe.” Castle answered. He didn’t think he should mention who put it there. Women were possessive about their weapons.
Beckett didn’t say anything, just kept staring at him.
“Ah… I’ll get it right away, ma’am!”
Handing an obviously angry and hungover person a loaded gun wasn’t the safest thing Castle had ever done, but at that moment he was dea… quite certain that not doing so would be much more dangerous.
“Who did undress me?” And now he wasn’t quite so certain anymore. Beckett’s voice could have frozen a tropical ocean. She checked the gun’s magazine with the kind of ease born of long practise before holstering it.
Come to think of - how had he managed to not only find his bed, but get into his pajamas as well? He blinked. “Vi!” It had to have been her. To think he might have put Beckett to bed, undressed her, and then forgot all about it? That was inconceivable!
“I see.” His guest sounded a bit doubtful.
“So… ah… How much do you remember from last night?” Rick held up his hands when he saw her expression darken. “I am just asking because I want to know if I have to repeat something I already said, not because I would like to insinuate that something else happened. That would have been far too cliche anyway!”
“I remember everything up to the time you started talking about a desert trip, and Vi tried to stuff a sock in your mouth,” Beckett said with a slightly sardonic smile. “Quite an effective way to shut up up, and less paperwork to deal with than after shooting you.” Or sadistic.
“That explains the taste in my mouth in the morning.”
Beckett snorted. For a hungover woman wearing the clothes from the day before, she looked entirely too fit. Coffee was truly a miracle drug.
“So… you’re now a member of the few, the proud, and the slightly suicidal people who know about the real world,” Castle smiled at his guest.
“I have only your word for it, and Vi’s display of … strength.” Beckett stated, grimacing.
“We’ll have to visit Clark’s then.” That would prove it beyond any doubt.
“Clark’s?”
“A demon bar.”
“Demons have bars? Do they serve type B blood, chilled, in there, with a side order of virgin hearts?” Beckett snorted.
“No, we put a stop to that when started in New York after Sunnydale.” Good times, then. Castle had felt like a marshall cleaning up a boom town in the Old West. Vi hadn’t let him wear a stetson though.
The detective looked flabbergasted, and Castle grinned. “And I am delighted to see you know my books so well!”
That earned him a glare, but no further comment. Point Castle!
“Not that I want to get rid of you, but… won’t you be late for work?” he asked casually.
“I called in sick.” Beckett answered in a clipped tone.
“Ah! Does that mean you’re stuck in the apartment with me since you can’t risk going out or you could be seen and your lie exposed?” Rick smiled widely.
While she was gaping at him, he heard the door open - either Vi or his mother had just arrived.
“Morning, Rick! had a nice night?” His Slayer’s loud voice, obviously meant to make his hangover’s effects worse, rang through his apartment, interrupting whatever Beckett had been about to say.
Vi entered the kitchen, and added another all too cheery and far too loud “Good morning detective!” Of course she’d not suffer from a hangover. Slayer healing was very unfair, Castle thought.
Both Castle and his guest wince, then glare at the girl. Vi ignores it and grabs some breakfast for herself. “You need to restock the fridge.”
The detective stared at the amount of food Vi had piled on her plate. Vi grinned, and started to eat. Just when the redhead had her mouth full, Beckett said: “I was planning to get you some help with your bulimia.”
While Vi was trying not to choke on her food, Castle spoke up. “Really?”
The detective shook her head, smirking. “No, not really.”
“I should have taken a picture. Or a video.” Castle smiled ruefully while weathering Vi’s glare.
“We’ll have to hit Clark’s later today. The dear detective is not entirely convinced demons exist, even if she doesn’t doubt the existence of Slayers.”
Vi’s eyes lit up. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the big bad demons.” Vi smiled sweetly, far too sweetly at Beckett.
The detective narrowed her eyes in response, but didn’t say anything. Yet.
Castle felt the urgent need to intervene before the two started a fight. From a safe distance though he wasn’t suicidal. “So… Clark’s is like a normal bar. Just filled with demons. Most of its patrons know better than to start trouble.”
“Meaning: We scared them into behaving peacefully.”
“Mostly her work, actually,” Rick pointed at his Slayer. “She tends to break a couple demon faces on each visit.”
“Your flamethrower scared them plenty!” Vi retorted.
“You’ve got a flamethrower?” Beckett’s voice was rising again, not a good thing with a hangover like Castle’s.
“I got a permit!” he defended himself.
“For a flamethrower?” If Beckett’s eyebrows rose any higher, they’d hit the ceiling.
“Among other things, yes. Whatever gets the job done.” Castle wasn’t about to mention the AT-4s in his gun safe if the detective had problems with flamethrowers.
“Jealous?” Vi grinned at the detective.
“Of course not.” Beckett smiled sweetly at that Slayer. Too sweetly.
Castle closed his eyes. He was going to die as collateral damage in a fight between Beckett and Vi. At least he’d not suffer from his hangover anymore.
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: Demons, Slayers and apocalypses, oh my!
New York, July 2009
“The last one, with the burning house… that was a demon.” Detective Beckett was putting more things together.
Rick Castle nodded. No point in trying to deny it.
“But why didn’t… the coroner is in on this! Perlmutter doing overtime? I should have known!” Beckett hissed, probably angry at herself for missing it. “And the ritual murder! That was a working ritual!”
“Actually no… I made sure that the ritual I wrote about was a fake. But the killer was possessed by a demon, and tried to free it anyway. I’ll certainly not tell any crazy out there how to summon demons! How irresponsible do you think I am?” He blinked. “Don’t answer that please.”
“Yeah. We’ve got enough apocalypses to prevent already!” Vi tried to help. Emphasis on ‘tried’. Castle wondered how many glasses she had drunk already.
“Apocalypses?” Beckett’s voice rose an octave or so.
“Well, technically there haven’t been that many attempted real apocalypses. That means world ending stuff. Only about… hm… less than half a dozen in the last 20 years, depending on how you count them. We just call all the rituals that would destroy a city or so ‘apocalypses’ out of tradition...” Castle trailed off when he noticed that Beckett didn’t seem to be reassured at all. Maybe he should have wondered how much he had drunk so far.
“You’re joking. This is all a big joke, right? Right?” Beckett was glaring at him.
Castle shook his head, a weak smile on his face. “... no? But we’ve got it in hand, really. We’ve foiled every attempt so far.” That should be obvious, really - the world was still around, after all!
“And what about Sunnydale then?”
“Oh. That was a foiled real apocalypse. There was a Hellmouth, and the First Evil was attempting to send its army through, but we sealed the rift. Unfortunately, that caused the town to implode. When I say I’ve seen the hell, I mean the real thing.” He’d always wanted to say that.
Vi nodded eagerly. “We kicked demon ass on their home turf!”
Beckett drank straight from the bottle this time. Castle went and fetched another.
*****
“Good morning, dad!” Alexis’s cheerful voice sent shards of pain through Castle’s head.
“There’s nothing good about this morning,” he muttered. What had he done? There was that warehouse… and then they had met Beckett… oh, right. He remembered. To a point. Somewhere past the second or third bottle, things started to get… fuzzy.
“How much did I drink last night?” he managed to ask.
“I don’t know, dad. I went to bed just a bit after midnight. I’ve got school today,” Castle’s far too sensible daughter answered. “I just wanted to wake you up before I leave. Gran met someone at her party, and stayed the night with him.”
“Well, you did wake me up. Mission accomplished. Now shoo. I need more sleep,” Castle bit out while sledge hammers were pounding his aching head.
“Bye dad!” Alexis waved and started to leave. At the door to his bedroom, she stopped. “I locked the pistol of our guest in the safe.”
Castle blinked. Guest? “Guest?”
Alexis’s smile was hard to read, but Castle though she was a bit gloating, at least. “Detective Beckett is sleeping in the guest room.”
“Oh.” How could he have forgotten that?
*****
“Where is my gun?”
“Good morning to you too, detective. Coffee?” Castle turned to the new arrival in the kitchen with a mug of freshly brewed coffee in his hand, and almost winced. Beckett looked like she should have been still in bed. Or in a detox clinic.
She all but ripped the mug out of his hand and took a mouthful. “Where. Is. My. Gun?”
“It’s locked in the safe, to be, ah, safe.” Castle answered. He didn’t think he should mention who put it there. Women were possessive about their weapons.
Beckett didn’t say anything, just kept staring at him.
“Ah… I’ll get it right away, ma’am!”
Handing an obviously angry and hungover person a loaded gun wasn’t the safest thing Castle had ever done, but at that moment he was dea… quite certain that not doing so would be much more dangerous.
“Who did undress me?” And now he wasn’t quite so certain anymore. Beckett’s voice could have frozen a tropical ocean. She checked the gun’s magazine with the kind of ease born of long practise before holstering it.
Come to think of - how had he managed to not only find his bed, but get into his pajamas as well? He blinked. “Vi!” It had to have been her. To think he might have put Beckett to bed, undressed her, and then forgot all about it? That was inconceivable!
“I see.” His guest sounded a bit doubtful.
“So… ah… How much do you remember from last night?” Rick held up his hands when he saw her expression darken. “I am just asking because I want to know if I have to repeat something I already said, not because I would like to insinuate that something else happened. That would have been far too cliche anyway!”
“I remember everything up to the time you started talking about a desert trip, and Vi tried to stuff a sock in your mouth,” Beckett said with a slightly sardonic smile. “Quite an effective way to shut up up, and less paperwork to deal with than after shooting you.” Or sadistic.
“That explains the taste in my mouth in the morning.”
Beckett snorted. For a hungover woman wearing the clothes from the day before, she looked entirely too fit. Coffee was truly a miracle drug.
“So… you’re now a member of the few, the proud, and the slightly suicidal people who know about the real world,” Castle smiled at his guest.
“I have only your word for it, and Vi’s display of … strength.” Beckett stated, grimacing.
“We’ll have to visit Clark’s then.” That would prove it beyond any doubt.
“Clark’s?”
“A demon bar.”
“Demons have bars? Do they serve type B blood, chilled, in there, with a side order of virgin hearts?” Beckett snorted.
“No, we put a stop to that when started in New York after Sunnydale.” Good times, then. Castle had felt like a marshall cleaning up a boom town in the Old West. Vi hadn’t let him wear a stetson though.
The detective looked flabbergasted, and Castle grinned. “And I am delighted to see you know my books so well!”
That earned him a glare, but no further comment. Point Castle!
“Not that I want to get rid of you, but… won’t you be late for work?” he asked casually.
“I called in sick.” Beckett answered in a clipped tone.
“Ah! Does that mean you’re stuck in the apartment with me since you can’t risk going out or you could be seen and your lie exposed?” Rick smiled widely.
While she was gaping at him, he heard the door open - either Vi or his mother had just arrived.
“Morning, Rick! had a nice night?” His Slayer’s loud voice, obviously meant to make his hangover’s effects worse, rang through his apartment, interrupting whatever Beckett had been about to say.
Vi entered the kitchen, and added another all too cheery and far too loud “Good morning detective!” Of course she’d not suffer from a hangover. Slayer healing was very unfair, Castle thought.
Both Castle and his guest wince, then glare at the girl. Vi ignores it and grabs some breakfast for herself. “You need to restock the fridge.”
The detective stared at the amount of food Vi had piled on her plate. Vi grinned, and started to eat. Just when the redhead had her mouth full, Beckett said: “I was planning to get you some help with your bulimia.”
While Vi was trying not to choke on her food, Castle spoke up. “Really?”
The detective shook her head, smirking. “No, not really.”
“I should have taken a picture. Or a video.” Castle smiled ruefully while weathering Vi’s glare.
“We’ll have to hit Clark’s later today. The dear detective is not entirely convinced demons exist, even if she doesn’t doubt the existence of Slayers.”
Vi’s eyes lit up. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the big bad demons.” Vi smiled sweetly, far too sweetly at Beckett.
The detective narrowed her eyes in response, but didn’t say anything. Yet.
Castle felt the urgent need to intervene before the two started a fight. From a safe distance though he wasn’t suicidal. “So… Clark’s is like a normal bar. Just filled with demons. Most of its patrons know better than to start trouble.”
“Meaning: We scared them into behaving peacefully.”
“Mostly her work, actually,” Rick pointed at his Slayer. “She tends to break a couple demon faces on each visit.”
“Your flamethrower scared them plenty!” Vi retorted.
“You’ve got a flamethrower?” Beckett’s voice was rising again, not a good thing with a hangover like Castle’s.
“I got a permit!” he defended himself.
“For a flamethrower?” If Beckett’s eyebrows rose any higher, they’d hit the ceiling.
“Among other things, yes. Whatever gets the job done.” Castle wasn’t about to mention the AT-4s in his gun safe if the detective had problems with flamethrowers.
“Jealous?” Vi grinned at the detective.
“Of course not.” Beckett smiled sweetly at that Slayer. Too sweetly.
Castle closed his eyes. He was going to die as collateral damage in a fight between Beckett and Vi. At least he’d not suffer from his hangover anymore.