Author's Note: Starting to think I need a flow chart with everything that's going on. And if it feels like this chapter ends weird, trust me, I have a plan. Reviews are appreciated!

Lindsey McDonald glared at Assistant District Attorney Glenn Forsythe as he shrugged his shoulders, told the court that his line of questioning was over, and returned to his seat. Without even waiting for Judge Markway to offer him the chance to cross-examine, Lindsey rose from his chair, straightened out his tie, and grabbed his leather-bound notepad.

As he approached the witness' bench, Lindsey couldn't help but smirk at the stink eye Detective Kate Beckett was giving him. This was far from the first time they'd clashed in a court room, and even though Lindsey wound up on the losing end of these matches more often than not, he still relished the challenge.

"So it's your professional opinion that Max Heller did not, in fact, commit suicide," Lindsey stated with an arched brow.

"No, it is not my professional opinion," Kate argued, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. "Those were the findings of Dr. Parish when she performed the autopsy on Mr. Heller."

"I see." Lindsey nodded once. "And how did Dr. Parish reach this conclusion?"

"An abrasion on Mr. Heller's index finger indicates that someone made him pull the trigger. Also, his BAC level of .28 meant that he was likely too intoxicated to have done it himself."

"And why would someone want you to think Mr. Heller committed suicide?"

"To cover up the truth." Kate was borderline incredulous at this point. All of this information was in the official police report, supported by Lanie's autopsy report. Why was Lindsey McDonald going over it all again, as if this were some mock trial in high school and he was a student who couldn't quite grasp the concept of being a defense attorney?

"Is that your theory or the writer's?"

"Objection!"

"Your Honor," Lindsey turned to the bench, "I'm merely establishing that Detective Beckett's case is flawed because instead of relying on her skills as a detective, she's taken to operating on the whims of a civilian consultant with an overactive imagination."

"Objection sustained," Judge Markway ruled. "Argue your case, Mr. McDonald, but I will not have you questioning the integrity of the NYPD in my court room."

Ignoring the judge and clenching his jaw, Lindsey glared at Kate with narrow eyes. She matched his glare with a venom she rarely showed, her arms folded across her chest. "While I appreciate the court's support," she started, "I will let my body of work speak for itself. As for my professional arrangement with Mr. Castle, his assistance is an important part of the work my team does, and rest assured that when he actually makes a claim with some substance behind it, we vet those theories as thoroughly as anything else." Her hazel eyes flicked briefly toward the court stenographer. "No one tell him I said that."

A light laughter filled the courtroom before quieting down, and Lindsey again approached the witness' bench. "Detective Beckett, why is it that you've never had a partner with the NYPD, but you'll enlist the help of an outsider who makes his living by killing people and making up stories?"

"Believe me, it wasn't my call," Kate struck back.

"Yet you've let his…insight affect your investigations." Lindsey shook his head, glancing back to the table where his client and Lilah Morgan sat, smirking when he saw the look on her face. "As I understand it, he's basing a book character on you. Is that correct?"

"Objection!" Forsythe called out. "Relevance?"

"Sustained," Markway agreed. "Mr. McDonald, either get to the point or let the prosecution call its next witness."

"Are you sleeping with Mr. Castle, Detective?"

An audible gasp filled the courtroom as the prosecuting team both bolted to their feet, screaming "Objection!" in unison. Judge Markway banged his gavel against the surface of his bench, trying desperately to restore order, catching Kate's glance and shaking his head. Once the murmur died down, the judge tossed his gavel to the side.

"Mr. McDonald, you are this close to being held in contempt of court!" Markway straightened in his seat. "This line of questioning is over, and the jury is asked to disregard Detective Beckett's cross-examination. I'm calling a 20-minute recess."

Outside the courtroom…

There was a buzz outside the courtroom, thanks to the theatrics that had just taken place. People from the crowd were talking amongst themselves, while reporters on-scene were yammering away on their phones, undoubtedly talking to their editors about the juicy tidbits they'd just been fed.

If Kate was lucky, the editors would decide what just happened was neither newsworthy nor fit to be printed in anything other than a sleazy tabloid.

Nonetheless, she immediately sought out Lindsey McDonald, who was over by the water fountain. His co-council, Lilah Morgan, stood in the corner, pinching the bridge of her nose while tucking her phone to her ear. She wasn't talking, and Kate wondered if she was getting chewed out for her partner's stunt.

Grabbing Lindsey by the collar of his suit, Kate pushed her way into the women's room before tossing the lawyer against the wall. Before he could recover or right himself, Kate grabbed Lindsey by the lapels of his suit and slammed him against the wall again.

"What the fuck?!" he bellowed.

"I could ask you the same thing," Kate growled. "You know how hard I've had to work over the years so I don't have to put up with that sexist crap from the NYPD?"

"Come on, Detective," Lindsey smirked. "You know anything goes in the courtroom."

"Maybe for Wolfram & Hart," she countered. "But here in the real world, I don't get up on that stand expecting to have my character questioned."

"You know me," Lindsey shrugged. "I'll take any advantage I can get."

Kate lunged forward again, pressing her left forearm against Lindsey's neck. His eyes widened when she added pressure, and he reached up in an effort to tug her arm away – only to find that it wouldn't budge. "You wanna pick apart my case? Go right ahead. I welcome the challenge. But you leave Mr. Castle alone."

"Why? What do you care?"

Kate's eyes narrowed, and she added just a little more pressure to Lindsey's neck – enough for his mouth to fly open and a small gasp for air to escape. Removing the arm from his neck, Kate turned to leave before whirling around and socking the lawyer in the stomach with her left fist. He doubled over with a loud grunt before breaking into a coughing fit and dropping to his knees.

"Consider this your warning," she said, turning to leave the bathroom. "Oh, and good luck explaining why you were puking your guts out in the ladies' room."

Castle's loft…

Even as she paced back and forth, her brain almost drowning in all of this new information, Buffy Summers couldn't help but let her eyes wander. Richard Castle's loft was at once impressive and homey, simultaneously grand and intimate. His office alone was impressive, though Buffy wasn't quite sure how bookshelves could double as walls.

She needed more privacy than that.

Castle himself sat at his desk, laptop closed in front of him. The first draft of Heat Wave had been submitted earlier that day, and while he knew Gina was going to pick it apart, he was proud of what he'd written. He hadn't seen himself writing again so soon after killing off Derrick Storm, but meeting Detective Beckett had inspired him in ways he never expected.

His daughter, a redhead named Alexis, sat in one of the plush chairs across from Castle's desk, confusion seemingly permanently etched onto her forehead. Faith Lehane sat in the other chair, the picture of nonchalance as she dug into her nails with the tip of her dagger.

Yet here stood Buffy, the proverbial new girl in town, with a ton of questions.

"Alexis," she started, "are you sure you saw what you saw?"

The teenager nodded, glancing at her father before sitting up straighter. "Platinum blond hair, black leather coat, face all…weird."

Buffy sighed and shook her head before glancing over her shoulder at the lone male in the room. "Do you make a habit of taking your daughter out to search for vampires?"

"We were just out for ice cream," Castle protested. "I wasn't gonna say anything until Billy Idol spilled out onto the sidewalk."

With a sigh, Buffy stood and started pacing again. "This doesn't make any sense."

"C'mon, B," Faith shrugged. "It's not like he'd be the first one to cheat death."

Faith had a point; after all, Buffy had twice kicked the bucket, yet here she stood in the middle of a very nice high-rise loft in the middle of New York City, surrounded by a New York Times bestselling author, his daughter, and another Slayer. To say nothing of her first love, who himself had cheated death on more than one occasion.

Still, given what Buffy knew of the battle with the Black Thorn, she thought Spike had finally given himself up for good this time. His return filled her with so much confusion and apprehension that she didn't quite know how to feel about it.

"But if he's alive again," the blonde offered, "why wouldn't he try to find me?"

"You mean the same way he didn't try to find you the first time he got resurrected?"

Buffy shook her head. "And what about you, Mr. Castle?" She cocked her head to the side. "How did you wind up neck-deep in all of this?"

"You mean other than the fact that I know Rupert Giles?"

"Yeah, other than that," Buffy quirked a brow. "Though you'll need to tell me that story too."

Castle sighed and ran a hand through his hair before leaning forward and resting his elbows on the desk. "I was at a launch party for my last book, Storm Fall. I went out back to get away from everyone for a few and call Alexis when I saw this guy attacking a woman. Only it wasn't a guy, it was a vampire – and once he saw me, he wanted nothing to do with her. I would've been a Lunchable that night if it wasn't for Beckett."

"So…what?" Buffy shrugged. "Beckett saved you and then told you everything?"

"All she told me was that she was NYPD," he said. "Which, after what I saw? I knew there was more to it than that. So I called Giles."

Faith smirked. "And like a good little Watcher, G-man made with the speech."

"Let me guess," Buffy shook her head. "Unto every generation…"

"Something like that." Castle nodded. "But with one hell of a plot twist, thanks to you."

Again, Buffy shook her head. "Willow deserves the credit."

"It was your idea, B."

"Still." Buffy began pacing again. "Things are bad enough if we're staring at the possibility of another Ascension. And if Spike's back on top of that…Mr. Castle, no offense, but I think you're better off sticking to your book parties and your groupies."

Castle sat back and folded his arms over his chest. "You sound just like Beckett."

Before Buffy could respond, a knock at the door interrupted everyone. The three adults all exchanged a glance before Castle rose from his chair with a shrug. "Excuse me."

Once Castle left the office, Alexis rose from her seat and folded her arms over her chest. "Um…Ms. Summers?"

"Please, call me Buffy."

"Buffy…" Alexis tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "How did you…I mean, when did you realize you were a Slayer?"

"I wasn't that much older than you, actually," Buffy said with a wistful sigh.

The front door…

Castle wasn't sure who he expected to see when he flung open the door to his loft, but he certainly hadn't expected it to be Angel. He blinked when he saw the pale man in the dark overcoat standing in his doorway, cocking his head to the side. In that moment, a random thought popped into Castle's head: if this guy was a vampire, and thus h ad no reflection, how did he get his hair like that?

"Angel," Castle glanced over his shoulder. "What's…"

"Is Beckett here?" Angel asked, glancing over Castle's shoulder. "She's not at the precinct."

"She's not here, either." Castle shook his head. "She was supposed to give testimony in court today, so I stayed here and did some writing."

Angel nodded and tore his eyes from Castle's loft, chewing on his lower lip. Castle narrowed his eyes at the man on the other side of the doorway, cocking a brow.

"Something on your mind?"

Angel shook his head. "Nothing you need to be concerned with."

Castle rolled his eyes and stepped to the side. "Really wish everyone would stop telling me that…Faith?"

By the time Angel lifted his gaze again, he was greeted not just by the sight of Richard Castle in the doorway, but three women. Faith Lehane, a teenage redhead who he figured was probably Castle's daughter, and…

Oh.

Oh.

Well…shit.

"Um," Angel blinked and swallowed, clearly taken aback. "Buffy. Hi."

Castle himself blinked, before his eyes darted back and forth between the dark-dressed man and the blonde woman whom he had barely known for a day. He also noticed the way they were both looking at each other and was tempted to say something, but when he opened his mouth, he felt the sharp jab of Faith's elbow against his ribs.

Which…ow.

"Angel," Buffy said, folding her arms. "I was told you were in town."

Angel nodded. "Makes one of us."

Alexis nudged her father – fortunately, on the other side from where Faith had done the same. "Um…is it just me, or is this really awkward?"

"No," Castle smirked. "Not just you."