January 9, 1999
The entirety of her walk, she'd felt Jackson's presence behind her. She wondered if he thought she knew anything, but knew a man was too stubborn as such to believe that there was a possibility that a woman could deduce a well-structured plan as fast as she did. Jim had warned her about this, warned her about sticking her nose in places it didn't belong because there were people who could easily decide one day to just… get rid of the problem.
She'd known Jackson Hunt had come to the firm she worked to kill her; she hadn't been stupid then and she wasn't stupid now. She just wished he would've given her another moment with her daughter, another moment with her husband; the ability to say goodbye, even.
With her shoulders hunched, Johanna curved into the alley, seemingly beckoning him closer. He found her there, staring straight at the people who passed by, their hollow gaze focused forward. This part of town was quiet, not as occupied. He knew she'd chosen this hideaway for a reason.
"Alexander," she cursed, watching as he stiffened in front of her. "Didn't think you fooled me with that Jackson Hunt bullshit, did you? I have my sources too, you know."
"It isn't personal, Johanna," he told her slowly, lifting his gaze to meet hers. He gripped the handle of his knife a little harder, wishing that he'd brought his back up piece suddenly. There'd be nothing like staring her down while he did this. "It's just a job."
Johanna narrowed her gaze, staring at the blade in his palm and then lifted it back to him. "You're damn right it isn't," she told him as he took another step toward her, a slow walk to his destination. She'd fight him but it would be no use. Johanna Beckett was just too stubborn to go down without at least trying; that much he'd learned in their time together.
As he slid the knife into her back, staring her down, she ground her teeth together. "But mark my words," she gasped through the pain, squeezing her nails into the fabric of his jacket. "It will be."
Jackson Hunt prided himself in his ability to, without a moment's notice, attack his target and leave without a trace. Johanna Beckett, like many of the victims he had, was noted in the paper and police reports as a random stabbing. There were news shows around it for one day only and then, like most of his victims, it stopped. Johanna Beckett was nothing more than a footnote in news.
Pleased with himself, he'd left for Paris, for his next mission that would inevitably keep him there for years. He'd make enemies there, none more than he already had, and it would bring him to the moment when he'd meet a man he'd spent forty years ignoring the existence of. And then he'd meet Katherine Beckett, this man's girlfriend.
And Johanna Beckett's daughter.
It didn't take him long to gather the intel he needed on the relationship between his son and karmic justice. The relationship, started pseudo partnership, had begun four years prior to their meeting. Long after Richard had disappeared back to his life, he watched his son – just as he had for years – but now watched Katherine Beckett too; watched her dive into every little detail she could when it came to justice for her mother.
There might've been a moment, too, where he worried she might be his next hit, but it was fleeting.
In his years as an assassin, he's learned not to get involved emotionally with anything because life is fleeting and nothing stays the same. If he had a choice, he wouldn't have even met his son that fateful day. However, he feels as though there is something more to that, something more to his son falling in love with the daughter of one of his victims. He just can't put his finger on what exactly it was.
1998
"Hi," her voice was lighter than he'd imagined. Her appearance doesn't fit the light tinkle that comes out of her lips as she narrowed her eyes on him. "I don't recognize you," she confessed, almost shamefully. "That must mean you're new."
Her shoulder length hair as she swings forward, extending her palm toward him. He sees the man he easily identified as her husband still back in the entrance, speaking to another person he doesn't recognize; won't know the name of by the time he disappeared from this firm. Sinking to this new low of his, he's out of his place but in order to get close enough to Johanna Beckett to be able to complete this mission, he'd had to take out desperate measures.
Jackson had followed her for a week straight only to learn that outside of work and home, there hadn't been many places she went besides work and home. The only place he'd seen her wander besides was Bracken's district to torture him and he knew that cornering her there would only leave questions for his employer to answer. He wasn't stupid enough to bring this back to Bracken.
"I am," he smiled gently, clasping her palm in his own. "Just started today; the wife and I moved here from Chicago." Jackson recited the cover he's given like it was a line from a play and he were just the actor acting it out. There was no wife, no previous job in Chicago but if the credentials were needed, he'd be able to fabricate them. That was how he'd gotten the job in the first place, after all. "Jackson Hunt," he said politely, dropping his hand back to his side.
"My name's Johanna," she replied just as politely. Her husband bounced up next to her and he watched the interaction between them: the way her eyes narrowed as she placed her palm against his shoulder and shook her head. "You know, Jim," she sighed softly. "I think Katie's right, I think we have to stop giving you coffee in the morning."
Johanna's polite again as she and Jim leave, moving back to the office he easily identified as theirs. They seem to be pretty well enjoyed around here; it almost made him regret the reason why he was here. And why he'd disappear soon before she'd die. He'd make a big deal of it, too, say the city life wasn't just what his wife thought it would be.
The plan was simple.
Present Day
If there was one thing Richard Castle knew, it was that plans almost always go awry. Staring down at the tiny human in his arms is pure proof of that; Ryan and Jenny had almost everything planned when it came to the labor and delivery of their first born and yet absolutely nothing went to plan.
Sarah Grace is adorable and everyone in the small hospital room has agreed profusely. It made Castle nostalgic of the days when Alexis were this small. Alexis was so quiet all the time and Sarah is proving to be almost the same; he hoped for their friends' sake that it stayed this way.
He'd be thinking about his future with Kate a lot lately, even more so when he'd decided to propose to her. Their wedding, a possibility of a family, it was on his mind more frequently than it had ever been, especially with their case with Benny still so fresh in his mind. He wanted all these things with her, wanted to see her swollen with their child and raise three – she still thought he was crazy for believing in that number – cherubic angels that would be the perfect combination of him and her. A quick glance at his fiancé is all he needed to solidify the fact that it's been on her mind too. Not right away, no, when the time was right. They still had a wedding to get through first.
Sarah started to fuss against his chest and he was on his feet in what felt like milliseconds, calming her successfully before he laid her out in Jenny's arms. The blond was glowing and he smiled warmly at her and then moved back across the room to the vacant chair at his fiancé's side. She pressed her cheek against his shoulder and held him there for a long moment.
They'd disappear within the next ten minutes when Sarah became cranky and it was obvious she was hungry. Kate was already falling asleep against his shoulder and he knew the day had drained all of them immensely. He was filled with gratitude that it hadn't gone horribly after all.
The next day, they moved onto the crime scene, their playful banter suddenly amplified that particular morning. Their victim's name is Ted Rollins, found in the shower by the hand of an unidentified phone call from Ted's phone – which Lanie expressed was impossible considering the time of death was hours before. It didn't add up, and those were the type of cases that Castle loved the most. The mystery and the intrigue was exactly why he'd become a mystery writer but since working with Beckett, he'd grown more fond of the cases that weren't just 'he was stabbed in the heart by a raging mistress' but instead open ended with more questions than answers.
He bit his tongue to ensure the mild excitement didn't show too much; this was a crime scene and someone was dead.
"So the killer shot him and then called 911?" He narrowed his gaze at the body, wondering what on earth this man could've done that still left the killer with the ability to call 911 on his behalf, so he'd be found.
"Except our victim was not shot in this apartment," Lanie said pointedly, starting straight at Castle as she spoke.
Kate moved back in from the other room, catching the end of what Lanie was saying. "And how do we know that?" She asked, raising her eyebrows. Kate wasn't very impressed with that answer, he could tell, but he was already feeling the workings of a theory in the back of his mind. One that could possible make his fiancé roll her eyes to the next dimension, but those were the best ones.
Oh, this case was going to be great. He could already feel it.
1998
"There's a woman set out to ruin me," William Bracken is nothing short of curt. The first thing the man said to him as soon as the heavy door was shut was all business. No 'hi, hello, how's your day?' Jackson liked him immensely more suddenly. He'd had clients before that had dragged him through their issues and frankly, he didn't have time to grant William the same courtesy.
Bracken sat back in his chair, eyes diverting from his own as he reached into a locked desk and pulled out a file, slapping it on the desk in front of him. "There's everything you need to know about her, about what she is trying to do to sabotage my future." He leaned forward on his elbows, pressing up just enough to strengthen his stature.
Jackson took another step and lifted up the file, the face and index label empty and he shifted the file between his hands to open it, staring at the face of a middle aged brunette. He couldn't help but think she was beautiful, even though he'd always had a thing for red heads over everything else. He looked over papers that were handwritten letters to Bracken, never typed. She was passionate about her cause.
"Her name is Johanna Beckett," Bracken said slowly, angrily. "She's been a pain in my ass since the first day she showed up at my office and I want her eliminated as soon as possible. Your funds will be wire transferred to your bank account as soon as the job is done."
Jackson closed the file and slid it into bag he carried over his shoulder, straightening his back the same way the man had just moments before. He wasn't entirely sure if it were to mimic him or not. "Is there a timeline, Mr. Bracken?"
William stilled on that, gritting his teeth. "My team and I have been discussing the possibility of running for congressmen. If she is there to diminish my chances when election season is running, well… there's a possibility it won't go well for me." Jackson rolled through the dates in his head and nodded curtly.
"Six months, then," Jackson said out loud. "Shouldn't be a problem, Mr. Bracken; I'll contact you when it's done."
Without another word, the man turned and left the office, disappearing back to the lonely hotel room he would call home for the next few weeks until the job was done and then he'd disappear once more; he was very good at that. A quick look at the file that Bracken provided him gave him enough information about Johanna Beckett to know it would be easy to slip out of her life.
Even easier to slip her out of life.
A/N: This is absolutely the most excited I've been to write anything in my entire life. I hope you all enjoy the ride we are about to take. Thank you to Beanie for helping me sort out the title issue and then Nadia and Nen for yelling at me last night when I was plotting this. ;)
