"Bro..." Esposito could only shake his head as he watched his partner walk down the street. "You look like such a nerd."

Ryan smirked at his partner, pushing his thick, coke-bottle, horn-rimmed glasses up his nose. "You're one to talk...Stanley."

"Yeah, yeah," grumbled Esposito as he ran a hand through his newly thinning hairline. "Of all the things Lanie could mess with...why did she have to go after my hair?"

"Depends...have you had any arguments with her lately?" When Esposito blushed and was suddenly unable to meet his partner's gaze, Ryan had all the answers he needed. "Uh huh." He handed his partner a business card. "This is the number of my favorite florist. I recommend 2 dozen longstem roses."

Esposito rolled his eyes...then tucked the card into the pocket of his jacket. "Thanks, bro."

"So why are we meeting here?" asked Ryan, sipping his coffee.

"This is the Java Loft where Castle always gets Beckett's coffee," replied Esposito. "If we can't go to the precinct and the loft isn't safe, he figured this would be the next best place to meet."

Ryan nodded, understanding Castle's logic. The two men looked around nervously, wondering when their friends were going to arrive. Ryan noticed them first. "Here they come."

The differences were subtle. But taken together, it would have been all but impossible for anyone to recognize Kate Beckett and Richard Castle...unless you were looking for them. After the pretty, freckle-faced redhead and her Italian-looking boyfriend got their drinks, they joined Ryan and Esposito at the window. "Any luck with the President's schedule?" asked Beckett.

"Nice to see you too, boss," Ryan teased.

"The longer we stay out in public, the bigger possibility she has of becoming a target," Castle insisted quietly. "What did you find out?"

Ryan sipped his coffee before giving Beckett the information he found. "The President will be coming to the Plaza in three days. Some sort of gala Democratic holiday fundraiser."

"So if they're going to do it in public they're going to do it there," said Beckett.

Ryan nodded. "Every source I looked into said that's going to be the President's next public appearance."

"But how can we be sure he's going to do it in public?" asked Castle. "The Vice President has access to almost everything the President has access to. Why not just slip some poison into his martini in the Oval Office?"

"If you're going to kill the President so that you can get power, then you need someone to blame for it," replied Beckett. "Otherwise you have a populace that you have to control instead of one that will rally behind your cause."

"And for all we know, *I'm* going to be the one they'll frame for it," agreed Esposito. "After all, I'm already wanted for an attempt on the Vice President..."

Beckett reassured her friend, "We're *not* going to let that happen, Esposito..."

Esposito felt a small glimmer of hope at his friend's confident reassurance. "Thanks, Beckett..."

Six of their fellow customers pulled guns, seemingly from out of nowhere...and all of them aimed directly at Beckett's head. The group made it out of the coffee shop just as the first bullets pinged off of Beckett's energy shield. The three detectives turned the corner, taking off at a speed that Castle was unable to keep up with. "BECKETT!" he yelled instinctually, trying to get his friends to slow down.

A dozen more bystanders pulled guns out of thin air and started shooting. Castle vanished, reappearing at the side of his friends. The foursome sprinted up Bowery, ducking into a nearby alley just as a third group of tourists seemed to recognize them and take off down the block with guns drawn.

Ryan peeked his head out from the alleyway to see the tourists running with the angry mob in the opposite direction. He was just barely able to catch his breath and put up a perception shield before exclaiming, "Okay, what the hell was *that*?!"

"It felt like...orders..." said Esposito.

"Orders?" asked Castle.

"The tiger spirit," Esposito clarified. "It's like they got an order to kill you and it kicked in whenever they found out who you were..."

Ryan was past catching his breath and shook his head in disbelief. "So any woman with a last name of Beckett could be a target?"

"And anyone around us has the potential to get caught in the crossfire," said Beckett. "So no more meeting in public. Too risky."

Ryan's eyes widened as he realized the implications of what Beckett was saying. "Wait a minute...we can't go back to the precinct because Esposito would be arrested on sight. We can't work from the loft or from Beckett's place because that's the first place any merc would look. And we can't go out in public because the evil spirits coming after us shoot to kill at the mention of Beckett's name. But if we hole up in a safe house and wait for all of this to blow over, the world will end in the meantime."

"Yep, that about covers it," said Castle.

"So what the hell do we do now?!" exclaimed Ryan.

As if on cue, a black Suburban pulled up at the other end of the alley. Three guns came out of their holsters before the car came to a complete stop...

...and only went back in their holsters when they discovered who was driving the SUV. "You folks need a ride," he said, "or you gonna just hide out in this alley until someone else comes shooting at you?"

"Fallon," Beckett exclaimed as she holstered her weapon, "what the hell are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too, Detective Beckett," Fallon countered with a smile. "I heard you guys were in trouble, so I figured I'd see if there was anything I could do."

"Who told you we were in trouble?" asked Esposito, trying to act casual.

"I did, for one," another voice chimed in from the car. The window behind the driver's side door rolled down to show Lanie was in the car with the Homeland Security agent. "Now are we going to sit here and talk all day, or are you people going to get in this damn car?"

Esposito knew better than to argue with his fiancée. "Yes, ma'am," he agreed, heading with his friends to the car.

The ping of gunshots rang off the body of the SUV as it pulled out onto the street, startling its passengers, but causing no injuries as Fallon wove his way through Sixth Avenue traffic. "Is this car bulletproofed?" asked Ryan.

When Fallon shook his head, Castle put a hand on the doorframe, whispering a quick spell. The body of the vehicle flashed with a ripple of green energy. "It is now," the wizard said.

"Thanks, Castle," said Fallon.

"So where are we going?" asked Beckett.

"A safe house in Queens," Fallon replied.

Esposito raised a wary eyebrow. "A DHS safehouse?"

"*No,*" Fallon replied emphatically, twisting the steering wheel around in his hands. "I can promise you, my bosses have absolutely no idea this place exists."

Ryan reached into Fallon's mind to verify what Fallon was telling them. What he saw...confused him. "What's the Network?"

Fallon smiled, not surprised that Ryan had read his mind. "It's a little hard to explain...but you should be able to ditch your disguises if you want. The rest you'll find out soon enough." As Fallon flung their car out of the Queensboro bridge exit, barely missing several other cars that swerved to get out of his way, he added, "Right now all I can tell you is that you'll have everything you need to continue your investigation without having to worry about people shooting at you."

Fallon finally seemed to be convinced that they were no longer being followed somewhere on the BQE. Still, he followed what seemed to be a well-traveled route of back roads, alleyways, shortcuts and double-backs until they reached Long Island City. After they pulled to a stop, Castle looked around and instantly recognized his surroundings. "Hey, I know where we are!" he exclaimed. "I own that warehouse right over there..."

"I know," Fallon cut him off with a knowing smirk. "But that's not where we're going." He switched gears on a dime, tapping his Bluetooth earpiece to start a phone call. "This is Phoenix. I might have come in hot. Any weird activity on the main route?"

Beckett immediately tuned in to the other end of the conversation, recognizing the voice on the other end of the line almost instantly. "Negative, Phoenix. Far as I can tell you're clean."

"What's the status of the Inner Circle?" asked Fallon.

"Dragonslayer's en route, but she's coming from California and won't get here until tonight. Crusher and Angel are teaching classes and wanted me to tell you they'll come to the meeting when everyone else gets here. Everyone else but Grumpy has an ETA under 30 minutes."

Fallon let out what seemed to be a long-suffering sigh. "And *what* is keeping Grumpy, as if I don't already know..."

"Crime scene call. He'll come in as soon as he's done. According to him, you'll get priority..."

"...as soon as we start paying him, I know, I know," said Fallon, cutting off what sounded like a long-standing issue with what sounded like his secretary. "Thanks, Claire," he added with a grateful tone to his voice. "I don't pay you enough."

"You don't pay me anything," 'Claire' responded with a chuckle. "I'll see you in 5."

"We're coming in through the front," Fallon spat out before the call cut off.

Beckett was confused. She was sure that she had recognized the voice on the other end of the line, but the code names and cloak-and-dagger driving were tempting her to think that this was some sort of covert government agency. Yet, with the jokes about people not getting paid..."Fallon? Where *exactly* are we going?"

"You'll see," Fallon replied cryptically. As the five Guardians got out of the car, Fallon led them toward the warehouse...

...and opened the door to the warehouse *next door* to their training center. The area was a little dingy, but it was clean enough to see that the small space had the purpose of being some sort of rarely used lobby. The receptionist at the sole desk stared at the group in stunned, open-mouthed shock.

Fallon looked at the woman with half-amused concern. He waved his hand in front of her face, trying to get her attention. "Terry? Oh, Terry?"

Hearing the familiar voice snapped Terry out of her stupor *just* enough to stammer out, "Oh, my God...it's them, isn't it? It's...it's really them?"

Fallon couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah, Terry, it's them. They need our help. Now can you let us in so I can show them around the place?"

Finally Fallon's continued talking seemed to snap Terry out of her awestruck haze. "Oh...oh! Of course, Phoenix. Sorry about that."

"S'okay," replied Fallon with a patient smile.

Terry buzzed the door, allowing Fallon to push it open. The receptionist waved shyly at the five Guardians as they left. "Bye!...So nice to finally meet you!"

TheTruthBetween has been pretty vocal with me about her dislike of the level of angst of the previous two chapters. So I may have cut the angst a *little* short...Kenzi, thanks for your patience. :-). And everyone, as always, please leave your comments below!