Author's Note: Written for the 2015 Twisted Shorts Challenge on LJ. It's been a while... Please forgive any errors.

Disclaimer: I own neither Castle or Buffy the Vampire Slayer, am making no money from this and am doing it purely for enjoyment.

Neighborhood Watch

Part I

The pillow didn't keep the sound of hammering and stomping out. You'd think he'd have accepted this weeks ago and given up on practically smothering himself, but Kevin Ryan was nothing if not stupidly optimistic. As if this time the pillow would magically filter out the sounds of construction on the floor above even though it had failed for weeks now.

With a sigh of defeat, he gripped the pillow and tossed it to the side as he rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling with a scowl. He tried to remind himself that it really wasn't an unreasonable time, that the crew never worked past eight at night and never started before seven so he couldn't march upstairs and arrest them all for disturbing the peace. He was the one on the weird schedule of a homicide detective and no one else could be blamed for the fact that he was trying to catch some sleep at one in the afternoon.

But seriously, what the hell were they doing up there?! Damn place must look like a palace by now! The area wasn't terrible, but wasn't great either. Plus the building was ancient; they couldn't put too much money into renovating a single unit and plan to recoup it.

Though he was jealous of the balcony...

Deciding that putting all this thought into the place upstairs wasn't getting him any closer to sleep, Kevin heaved himself out of bed with a weary (and maybe a little exaggerated) groan. He really should've taken up Javi up on his offer to sleep at his place. His couch might be lumpy but at least it was quiet.

His suit was still warm when he put it back on and Kevin's tired mind felt like it was mocking him somehow. But if he couldn't be sleeping then he might as well be working. The case they were working on was ugly – well, they all were, but this one was a little worse than the daily grind type of homicide. He probably wouldn't have gotten any peaceful sleep even if he'd gotten the quiet part. He rubbed his face roughly, stubble that he usually kept under tight rein rasping against his fingers. They always seemed a step behind this killer, getting info and rushing around like chickens with their heads cut off before finding a body and being at a standstill again. He pressed fingers hard enough against his eyes that he saw spots when he opened them – it was better than seeing the image of those poor girls again though…

But despite the lack of anything new to go on at the moment, the case still had gained that electric feeling that meant they were this close to putting the pieces together. But that also meant that the next stretch would be the most exhausting. Hopefully it wouldn't involve finding another pretty blonde mutilated…

Kevin was halfway out the door when the silence registered.

"You've got to be kidding me…" He grumbled with a bitter laugh and a head shake.

Figuring it was too good to be true, that as soon as he got comfortable again the racket would start back up, he headed back to work.

But the racket didn't start up again.

He came home eighteen hours later, suit possibly permanently rumpled and exhaustion weighing his limbs down, to nothing but blissful silence. He crashed onto his bed, not bothering to change or shower in case this was just some kind of trick and the pounding and stomping would start again any minute – even if it was only a few minutes, he wanted some damned sleep. He was therefore surprised when he woke up later to find it dark and his body stiff from staying in one place too long. A glance at the clock and a few minutes processing time for his sleepy mind had him realizing he'd been sleeping for twelve straight hours.

And there'd been no construction upstairs.

"Thank you, sweet baby Jesus…"

He made a face and rolled his tongue around - it was probably blasphemy to speak His name with his mouth tasting the way it did right then.

After grabbing a quick shower and a shave, he threw on a pair of sweats and a tee shirt. Snatching his keys from the table, he headed out. Usually he liked to be a bit more presentable but he doubted the permanently angry guy at the Chinese take-out place down the street would give two craps about how he looked.

Waiting for the elevator he couldn't help but curiously glance at the ceiling, wondering what it looked like up there. Maybe he'd go poke around after he ate, see what all the fuss had been about. It was the cause of so many sleepless nights; the least he should get is a sneak peek at the place.

His stomach growling drew his attention back to the elevator, which seemed to be taking a lot longer than usual. Stabbing the button again with a little too much force, he put his ear to the door and gave a defeated sigh at the lack of any sound of movement on the other side.

Constructions guys must've managed to break it. A freaking parting gift…

As he jogged down the stairs his mind rolled over the reports that still needed done on the case they'd just closed. Hopefully after he got some food in him he'd feel more motivated to get to it. He pulled a grossed out face, realizing that writing reports on those poor girls on a full stomach might not be the best idea. Maybe he'd just write the portion on the previous day's events tonight instead of diving into the murders…

He almost wished Castle's wild theory of "an underground cult of demon worshipers" had actually been the case – would definitely be more interesting writing that up than the rinse-and-repeat report of "ridiculously crazy guy that hated his ex was killed in a shoot-out". But seriously, the way those poor girls died? He was relieved the guy was off the streets but a quick death by bullet was more than that guy deserved. For once he hoped those nuns had known what they were talking about back in school and there was some kind of divine judgment waiting for that guy in the afterlife.

He stepped out of the stairwell and shot the elevator a dirty look, doing a double take when he saw the reason it hadn't come when he called it was because a couch was wedged half inside it. Two legs inside where up against the back wall at an angle near the ceiling while the other two were on the ground in the hall.

"Uhhh…" He started, not sure what else to say as he curiously edged toward it.

"Oh!" A voice said from inside the elevator.

Popping up and bouncing a little like she was trying to see over the arm, a blond head and pretty green eyes met his with a sheepish look.

"I am so sorry! I'm totally in your way, right? I'm moving in and I guess I'm not so good with the whole spatial awareness thing and now I'm kind of… well, stuck."

A little off balance from those eyes, Kevin just parroted, "Stuck?"

"Yeah, well, the arm is kind of wedged against the door here and I can get it out if I really shove, but I think I'll rip the fabric and my sister picked this couch out and if she finds out I already ruined it before I even got it upstairs… Well, she can reach a level of screeching only dogs can hear."

Shaking himself out of it, he moved forward to help.

"You were trying to move this upstairs all by yourself?" He asked in confusion. "You don't have any movers or delivery guys or anything?"

"I was a little late," the muffled reply from behind the couch came as she dropped down from her toes. The couch gave a little wiggle and he heard the ominous sound of fabric rasping against something sharp. "I mean, they told me I had to be here, but still! They could've just rescheduled instead of leaving it here in the lobby."

Kevin shook his head in disgust at the rude delivery men, pulling lightly on the couch from his side. It really was stuck. She had to be all of five foot nothing, how had she gotten it in there at all let alone at such a weird angle?

"Ummm, let me see if I can get it from that side," he said, ducking through the little triangular gap at the bottom.

Coming up on the other side, his breath caught as he realized he hadn't really thought this move through. His face came up inches from a pair of tan legs and the view just kept getting better as he stood fully, eyes staring down into the green ones that looked so much better this close. Dear god he was glad he'd showered…

"Sorry, guess I thought there was more room in here," he said, also thankful he'd brushed his teeth.

"Yeah, well join the club," she answered with a sheepish look at the couch.

"Right, let's see what we're dealing with."

With some shuffling that ended up with enough bodily contact that both of them were blushing, they managed to maneuver the couch out with only the loss of a few threads. The soft clean smell of her combined with the close contact was making his head spin a little by the time they stepped out of the elevator.

"Let me call a buddy and we'll get this upstairs for you," he said, pulling his phone from his pocket.

"No, no, no!" She said with a frantic waiving of hands as she leaned toward him from over the back of the couch. "Seriously, I'm good now!"

"You're good? You're going to carry this up to the..."

"Fourth floor," she supplied, eyes ticking off to the side.

"You're going to carry this up the stairs to the fourth- Hey! Are you moving into 407? That's right above me!"

"Oh," she said, blinking at the sudden change in topic before giving a small half smile. "Guess I'll have to keep the clog dancing and living room bowling to a minimum since you helped me out."

He grinned back, "Well, I can always learn to clog and I'm a great bowler. So, only if I'm not invited."

There was kind of weird moment then where they just kind of stared at each other before Kevin realized how rude he was being.

"Sorry, I'm inviting myself to your bowling parties and haven't even introduced myself. Kevin Ryan – 307."

"Buffy," she said, smiling and offering a hand over the back of the couch. "Buffy Summers."