Author's Note: Man, this is so much fun to write... I hope you're enjoying it as much as I am. Please review!
Posted for #CastleFanficMonday.
The Twelfth…
By the time Angel made it to the Twelfth Precinct, Roy Montgomery's body had been removed from Detective Beckett's desk and was en route to the medical examiner's lab. Whispers were that Perlmutter would handle the autopsy, offering to do the deed so Dr. Parish wouldn't have to make the decision herself.
Perlmutter was a dick, but that was a nice gesture on his part.
The yellow crime scene tape surrounded the desk, chunks of broken ceramic still littering the floor. Angel paused in front of the elevator to take in his surroundings; much of the bullpen was now empty, save two uniforms in the far corner shaking their heads and speaking in hushed tones.
He saw Buffy and Faith in the conference room, having an animated conversation with Detectives Ryan and Esposito. Ryan was staring at the table and shaking his head, while Esposito held a wooden stake in his hand and was looking at Buffy as if she had just beamed down from Omicron Persei 8.
Next to the conference room sat what used to be Montgomery's office. The door was shut and he could see Kate sitting at the desk, her eyes red and brimmed with tears as she thumbed through several file folders. Angel remembered the night Montgomery tried to hand off several manila folders to him, telling him they were pertinent to figuring out who killed Johanna Beckett, but the vampire had refused.
He wondered if those were the files Kate was looking at.
Every impulse told Angel to go to Kate, to check on her. But he wouldn't know what to say, for one thing, and it seemed half the time like they were on such shaky ground that he didn't want to risk bearing the brunt of her emotional outburst. She was entitled to one, but the last thing Angel wanted right now was to be her punching bag.
In a perfect world, that would be Spike.
His eyes scanned over Kate's desk. The keyboard was smashed, keys broken off. The monitor was cracked, and there was hardly anything left of the elephants she once kept at the edge of her desk. She loved those elephants, one of her last remaining ties to her mother, and the fact that they were destroyed in this ambush was as much of an insult as anything else.
Dried blood ran down the side of the desk to the floor. Angel didn't have to lean in to tell it was Montgomery's, but the stench of it was still familiar to him. He could smell others' blood whether he wanted to or not, and it didn't even have to be spilled anywhere for him to catch a whiff.
Rumblings were a letter opener had killed him, so at least Spike hadn't turned the captain.
Small consolation.
Angel crouched next to the desk, something dark on the floor having caught his eye. With a frown, the vampire reached over and grabbed a mini cassette tape off the floor, his brow furrowing even more as he studied the trinket in his hands.
What was on this tape? Where had it come from?
If the ceramic surrounding the area where Angel had found the tape was any indication, it would seem the tape was hidden inside the elephants. But… that wasn't right. Was it? That didn't make any sense.
Unless…
Standing, Angel scanned the bullpen once again to make sure no one was paying him any mind. He slipped the tape into the pocket of his leather coat, casting one last glance at Montgomery's old office. Kate was still hunched over in his chair, reading something. The other two Slayers were still talking to Ryan and Esposito, and Esposito's muffled curses were carrying through the glass.
Deciding against the elevator, Angel wandered to the stairwell. If the tape contained what he thought, this would be the break he had been looking for over the past couple years. But he wouldn't do that to Kate. Not after the way things had been between them.
No… if this was in fact the big break, he would make sure she made the discovery, not him.
Wolfram & Hart…
"You did what?!"
Spike shrugged and lit a cigarette, pocketing his silver Zippo as the first drag filled the conference room. Lindsey McDonald sat at the end of the table in silence, arms folded over his chest as he stared out the window overlooking the Manhattan skyline. Sunrise would be in another couple hours, and Lindsey had never left the previous day.
In a way, he couldn't care less what Spike did. He hadn't even wanted to resurrect the vampire in the first place. But the Senior Partners were bending over backwards to appease Senator Bracken, as if his Ascension was the end-all, be-all.
Lindsey remembered the last time the Senior Partners went all-in on something. The Los Angeles branch of Wolfram & Hart still hadn't been re-built.
"Come off it, mate," Spike said, pushing himself off the edge of the table and approaching an angry William Bracken. "So I decided to blow off some bloody steam. Beckett's boss was just an added bonus."
Bracken swatted the cigarette out of Spike's mouth before grabbing him by the t-shirt and getting in his face. Not even the smell of rotting flesh bothered the Senator at the moment. "You idiot!"
Grabbing Bracken's wrist, Spike's face shifted into its demonic visage, eyes feral and fangs sharp. Pulling the Senator's hand off of him, the vampire reached up with his other hand and grabbed Bracken's neck.
"Why don't you start at the beginning, for those of us in the back of the room?"
"Roy Montgomery and I had a deal," Bracken explained through clenched teeth. "He had information on me that would ruin my career."
"I did you a favor, then."
"And what if Detective Beckett gets her hands on that information?" Bracken shot back, spittle flying from his mouth. "Hm? What then?"
"What's it to you, mate?" Spike dug another cigarette out of the mashed pack in his coat, his lighter clacking open and shut as he lit it. "I told you I'd kill the bint, and I bloody well plan on holding up my end of the bargain."
"You better." Bracken's jaw clenched. "Cause if you don't? I can stuff you into an ash tray just as easily as I plucked your sorry ass out of the ether and back into that body of yours."
Spike punched Bracken in the face before plucking the cigarette out of his mouth and snuffing it out over the Senator's forehead. Bracken grunted in pain as a small burn mark appeared on his forehead – but it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared.
Bracken smacked the cigarette out of Spike's hand – again – before grabbing the vampire by the neck and lifting him off the ground. Spike tugged on Bracken's wrist with both hands, but his arm wasn't going to budge.
"I did not come to America on a disgusting, shit-infested boat in the 1940s to have some self-important vampire ruin everything for me." Bracken's lips curled into a sneer and his fingers tightened around Spike's neck; he knew the vampire didn't need to breathe, but the pressure on the sensitive bones of his neck sufficed.
"I have endured the trials. I have done everything Ky-laag's disciples have asked of me. I have looked into the Deeper Well and been greeted by the abyss. I have sacrificed Earthly pleasures for the slightest chance at shedding this weak form and becoming what I was truly meant to be."
Bracken tossed Spike across the room as if he were little more than a stuffed animal.
"And I will not let you get in my way."
Castle's loft…
Richard Castle had been numb since receiving the text from Faith telling him that Roy Montgomery had been killed. His reply had been met with silence, and Castle could only guess what Kate was going through right now. Captain Montgomery had always been friendly with Castle, and he had proven to be a formidable foe at the poker table.
More importantly, Montgomery's approval was what gave Castle the chance to shadow Kate. It had started as book research, a necessary step in making sure Heat Wave and all subsequent Nikki Heat novels had an air of authenticity to them. But it had quickly gone beyond that, and Castle had found himself increasingly growing to care for Kate.
It had gone so far, in fact, that if it wasn't yet love, it would be soon.
His first instinct upon hearing the news was to reach out to Kate. He needed to be there for her, even if there was nothing for him to do. Even Faith had mentioned that Kate would need him, but for once, Castle decided to exercise restraint. Kate would come to him in due time, and when she did, he would make sure he was there.
The clock was pushing five in the morning. In a couple hours, Alexis would be up and getting ready to go to school. Suddenly, the fact that some vampire with terrible taste in hair had attacked her was no longer his most pressing concern. Captain Montgomery's death trumped everything else right now.
So instead of sleeping, Castle was in his office nursing a glass of scotch.
A knock at the front door caught Castle's attention mid-sip. He frowned, wondering who the hell could be paying him a visit at this hour. He briefly wondered if it was Kate, but she wouldn't have knocked first. Likewise for the other two Slayers. Reluctantly, Castle set his glass aside and rose from his chair.
Castle pulled the door open, only to be greeted with the sight of Rupert Giles.
"Mr. Castle."
"Rupert."
As glad as Castle was to see the man, his presence also brought with it a sense of dread. It wasn't that different from when Buffy Summers had first shown up – at that point, both Kate and Faith had mentioned that Buffy's presence meant things were getting serious. As far as Castle was concerned, Giles' presence was further confirmation of that.
"Come in," Castle said as he stepped to the side. "How've you been?"
"Better," Giles answered as the door shut behind him. He removed his glasses and began wiping them with a small handkerchief, dark bags evident under his eyes. "Where are the Slayers?"
"Dealing with a crisis at the moment," Castle said. "Beckett's captain is dead."
"Dear lord."
"As if things couldn't get any worse." Castle shook his head. "They keep talking about something called an Ascension, Spike attacked my daughter, now this."
Giles blinked and put his glasses back on. "I beg your pardon?"
"I don't even know where to start."
"Did you say Spike?"
"Raidoactive hair, regular Billy Idol ripoff," Castle explained with a dismissive wave. The anger was still there, but it was simmering below the surface now, no doubt dulled by the alcohol he had consumed since his return from Angel's office.
"Bloody hell," Giles muttered and pinched his nose. "I'd love to say that's impossible, that Spike's dead, but the bastard's cheated death twice already."
Castle wandered back into his office with Giles following. By the time the writer reached his desk, he grabbed another clear glass and poured scotch into it before topping off the rest of his own glass. Handing the second glass to Giles, Castle heaved an exhausted sigh and raised his glass in a toast.
"To whatever the hell's going on these days," he said.
Both men downed their drinks in one gulp. Giles shook his head and hissed before turning to glance over his shoulder. The bookshelf was several rows tall and packed full. One row was nothing but old Derrick Storm novels. His eyes immediately went to Unholy Storm before he reached out and pulled the book from its spot.
"This was a good one," Giles muttered. "All things considered."
"Yeah." Castle cringed. "Derrick Storm and zombies don't exactly go together."
"I appreciate you not mentioning me in the Acknowledgements," Giles added. "I was already in hot water with the Council; undue publicity was the last thing I, or they, needed. Still wish you hadn't killed him."
A devilish smile crept onto Castle's face. "Just wait until you read Heat Wave."
Giles arched a brow. "Heat Wave?"
"The first novel for my new character: NYPD homicide detective and monster hunter Nikki Heat."
"Nikki…" Giles shook his head, again removing his glasses. "I must say, Mr. Castle, for all of your strengths as a writer, names have never been one of them."
"This coming from the man who trained a Slayer named Buffy."
Reaching for the scotch bottle and pouring the rest into his glass, Rupert Giles sunk himself into a chair that was entirely too plush before downing the drink in one swift gulp. Setting the empty glass on the floor, the Watcher smirked and shook his head. "Touché."
"I'm told you were around for the last Ascension." Castle's expression turned serious, the bags under his eyes exaggerated by the harsh light on his desk. "Is it as bad as Buffy and Faith make it seem?"
"Worse." Giles sank even further into his seat. "The only way we could kill the last demon to Ascend was to destroy the grounds of Sunnydale High School. All of this on the heels of Columbine, mind you."
"So either we wind up causing a massive amount of destruction," Castle sighed, "or we find a way to stop Bracken before he can Ascend. Which… I don't know how we can."
"I may be able to help with that."
Before Castle had a chance to respond – and honestly, he has far too confused to think of anything to say – Giles rose from his chair and pulled an overstuffed file folder from the brown leather satchel he had been carrying.
"I would much rather have this conversation in Katherine's presence," Giles said, giving a knowing smile when Castle reacted to his use of Kate's formal name, "but seeing as how she is dealing with a crisis of her own, I'm afraid we don't have much time."
Castle took the folder with a quirked brow. "What is this?"
"Richard, how much do you know about Johanna Beckett's murder?"
"Not much." Castle placed the folder on his desk without opening it, crossing his arms over his chest and feeling a foreboding sense of dread building in his chest. "Only what Angel's told me."
"I'm afraid it goes much deeper than anyone realizes," Giles explained. "And I believe Captain Montgomery's death might be related."