Author's Note: All I ask, dear readers (aside from reviews), is patience. Trust in the story and the places it will take everyone. Oh, and please leave reviews (yes, I know, I'm shameless).

The Twelfth…

"Mr. Castle, what are you doing here?"

The Kate Beckett staring him down was not the one Richard Castle encountered two nights ago in that alley. The scowl was unmistakable, the annoyance etched all over her hazel eyes. Undeterred, Castle smiled at the sight of the detective, trying to ignore the tall man in the billowing coat behind her.

"Detective Beckett," he offered in a voice that was far too cheery for the glare she tossed his way. He held a white gift box under his left arm. "I just wanted to stop by and express my gratitude for the other night."

Stopping in front of Castle, and chewing on her lower lip, Kate folded her arms and narrowed her gaze. "You couldn't have just picked up the phone?"

"No," Castle countered, ignoring the confused and pointed glares directed his way from the rest of the bullpen. Uniforms and detectives alike were annoyed with him, though two of the uniforms by the elevator gossiped under their breath, arguing over whether that was actually the New York Times bestselling author paying them a visit.

"Because if I did," he added, reaching into his jacket pocket before producing a large wooden stake, thick at the base and standing at roughly seven inches in length, "I couldn't give this back to you." He flipped the weapon in his grasp so the sharp end was pointed at the floor. "The only thing I can figure is, you're building a really small fence."

Her heart skipping a beat, and hoping beyond hope that none of her colleagues could see the weapon, Kate snatched the stake from Castle and slipped into the thankfully deep pockets of her dress pants. She shot Castle another glare, sucking in a deep breath. "Thanks. Is that all, Mr. Castle?"

"No, actually." He smiled ear-to-ear, which admittedly lit up his blue eyes, handing the box to Kate. "Consider this…a token of my appreciation."

Taking the box with a scowl, Kate opened the box, only to look down and find a copy of Storm Fall staring back at her. She suppressed the eyeroll that tickled her features, cocking her head to the side. "Thanks, but…I already have a copy. Remember?"

The quip about how she should've let that thing eat him because he dared to kill off Derrick Storm? There was no way Castle would forget that – even among the pile of everyone else telling him how big a mistake he was making. Still, the smirk never left the writer's face, even as he nodded toward the open box.

"Yes, but that one's not signed."

Actually rolling her eyes this time, Kate flipped open the front cover and saw Richard Castle's autograph scrawled along the title page. Underneath it was a message: To Detective Beckett, thank you for saving my ass the other night. Nice to know this place has honest-to-god superheroes. See you again soon.

Kate thought the message was sort of sweet – until she read the last sentence. Indignation on her face, Kate looked up to fire yet another barb at her favorite writer when she noticed him disappearing behind the closing elevator doors. Like an afternoon thunderstorm in southern Florida in the summer, Castle was gone just as quickly as he had arrived.

Kate flopped the open box on her desk with a frustrated huff, turning to return to the interrogation room – only to almost run into Angel's chest. She stopped just short of the vampire, though, rolling her eyes again.

"What are you doing here, Angel?"

"I was here to warn you about him, actually."

"Richard Castle?" Kate cocked her head to the side.

"But then I saw that you were questioning Faith," the vampire was far too adept at changing the subject for Kate's liking, but he closed the distance before she could protest. "Whatever you found, Kate, she didn't do it."

"Awful sure of yourself," Kate argued.

"I know Faith," he countered. "Whatever her past, it's just that: her past. Wolfram & Hart is playing you."

"And why would they do that?"

"Because that's who they are," Angel's voice was almost a whisper at this point, and he hovered over the detective, his pronounced brow even more so under the harsh light of the bullpen. His jaw was set. "They tinker and meddle. They pull strings to meet their endgame, everyone else be damned."

"So what's their endgame?" Kate shrugged. "What do they want with Faith?"

Angel's seemingly perpetual frown turned pensive, and he shook his head. "Not sure it's her they want." He chewed on his lip – a habit he'd picked up since meeting the detective. "The lawyer you met with…did you get their name?"

Kate nodded. "Lindsey McDonald."

If it were possible, Angel's face went pale – well, paler than it already was. His eyes were wide, and he shook his head again. "That…" He shook his head again. No, of course it was possible; this was Wolfram & Hart they were talking about. It also meant the firm likely knew he was in New York now.

This complicated matters.

The sound of a door opening interrupted their conversation, and Angel turned to see the captain of the Twelfth Precinct, Roy Montgomery, sticking his head out the door. "Angel," he greeted with a sideways grin. "Glad you're here. Can we talk…in private?"

Angel and Kate exchanged a confused glance, and Angel shrugged his shoulders. Kate stepped toward him, her trademark glare returning. "This conversation's not over," she warned. "But I still have a suspect to question."

Interrogation…

"Pretty unique friend you have there," Kate pointed over her shoulder before returning to her post across from the table from Faith.

"Angel's cool," Faith said with a shrug, studying the woman seated across from her.

"So," the detective offered with a shake of her head, "you say you're here to find me. Why?"

Again, Faith shrugged. "Not sure. Giles wasn't big on the details."

"Yet you know my name, where I live, and what I am," Kate countered.

"All based on intel from Angel."

Kate sat up a little straighter, confusion and a little anger flashing in her eyes. "Angel a spy for you guys?"

Faith actually laughed at that, shaking her head. "You'd think that, creature of the night and all? But…no." The dark-haired Slayer shrugged again, glancing toward the door. Kate had noticed that in her whole time in this room, Faith never bothered glancing at the two-way mirror. Faith had a reflection, so Kate found that a bit strange.

"Do you know what a Watcher is?" When Kate shook her head, Faith's mouth curled into a sideways grin. "They train Slayers. Big on books, research, all that boring stuff."

Kate's eyebrows arched. "And this Giles…?"

"Is a Watcher. Runs the Council now." Faith cocked her head to the side. "You're buds with Angel, I'm sure the name Buffy Summers has come up."

Kate smirked. "A time or two."

"Giles was her Watcher."

"So…" Kate shrugged and dropped her pen onto the open folder in front of her. "Why did he send you? Why not just send another Watcher?"

"Cause there aren't a lot of 'em," Faith explained. "And the world's overrun with Slayers now. Every time we think we know how many there are, we find more."

"But why me?" Kate shrugged again. "I mean, Angel's here."

Montgomery's office…

Angel sighed as he watched Kate march toward the interrogation room, catching a quick glimpse of Faith again before the door shut, Kate disappearing behind it. Shaking his head, Angel walked into Montgomery's office, glad the captain closed the blinds overlooking the city before he entered. Sunrise wasn't for a bit yet – the precinct was surprisingly busy given the hour – but Angel appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

Angel shut the door behind him. "Roy."

Taking his own seat behind his desk, Montgomery straightened his pale yellow tie with a sigh. "Sit down, Angel."

Angel did so, careful not to sit on his coat in the process as he planted himself in the leather sofa across from Montgomery's desk. He took in the pictures behind the captain, older photos of his days as an officer and a detective, and a photo of Montgomery smiling side-by-side with his wife. The Montgomery in that photo was far more lively than the one sitting at his desk.

"I appreciate the arrangement you have with Detective Beckett," Montgomery said.

Angel frowned. "Sir?"

"I'm not naïve." Montgomery shook his head. "I know there's stuff out there most people can't comprehend. Hell, half my force would quit if they knew what was out there. But Beckett?" He shook his head with a smirk. "On top of being my best detective, she can actually handle those…things."

"That's great." Angel frowned. "But…what does that have to do with me?"

"I know what you are, Angel." Montgomery smirked at the look of alarm on Angel's face. "Please. It hasn't been that long since I was a detective. Point is, she trusts you. Probably more so than anyone in this precinct."

Angel watched as Captain Montgomery reached into a drawer in the top right of his desk, pulling out several stuffed officially marked NYPD manila folders. He noticed the crease in Montgomery's brow as he looked at them, his fingers trailing over the cover.

"I've held onto these files for almost fifteen years," Montgomery said, though it sounded more like he was talking to himself. "These files ever go public…"

Angel's brow furrowed, dread creeping in. "Roy…what's going on?"

"How much do you know about Johanna Beckett's murder?"

Angel frowned with a shrug, trying to act as if he wasn't fearful of where this conversation was headed. "Only what Kate's told me…which isn't much."

"Official NYPD report says it was a random act of gang violence." Montgomery shook his head. "The truth's much deeper than that. And it's all in these files."

Angel stood, his dread slowly seeping away, only to be replaced by something akin to anger. "So…you have information on who killed Beckett's mother," he mused, "information that she has desperately wanted throughout her career, and you've sat on it?"

"For her own protection," Montgomery argued. "The man who orchestrated it all is very powerful, far too powerful for us to reach him. The day the city of New York handed her a badge, we struck a deal."

Angel shook his head in disbelief. "A deal."

"The person responsible for her mother's murder leaves her alone, these files never see the light of day."

Angel bit back the snarl building in his throat. "What's the catch?"

"She couldn't investigate the case."

Angel rose from his seat and approached the desk, glaring at the black man with the thin moustache. He briefly felt the urge to shift, to show Montgomery his true face, but he suppressed it, instead shaking his head.

"You know how important that case is to her, Roy." Angel's nostrils flared. "Why are you telling me all this?"

"One PP is on my ass," Montgomery heaved a weary sigh. "I feel like I'm nearing the end of the line. I got a lotta baggage to carry, a lot in my past to make up for, and I wanna make this one thing right before my time's up."

"By lying to someone who trusts you."

"That lie is the only thing keeping her alive," Montgomery argued. "I need you to take these files."

"No."

"Angel…"

"Roy…" Angel's hands balled into fists. "You hand me those files, they're going in my fireplace…after I tell her about them."

Angel turned to walk out of Montgomery's office, his hand wrapped around the doorknob. He stopped and turned to face the man that he knew Kate looked up to, shaking his head again. "When I was in L.A., still learning the PI ropes," the vampire explained, "I was friendly with this cop. Also named Kate, oddly enough. But I kept secrets from her, and her life was worse for it."

"Angel…"

"Point is, I don't wanna make that mistake again." Angel approached the desk again. "Not with Beckett."

Montgomery cocked his head to the side. "You love her."

Without another word, Angel cast another glance at the stack of folders on Montgomery's desk, shaking his head before turning on the balls of his feet, pulling the door to the captain's office open, and disappearing into the night.