Disclaimer: I own nothing except a few oddly named electronics and a falling apart bookshelf.
“Ok, Buffy? This is the last time. Whenever you are in a city, you are getting a chauffeur. I’ll get one other the girls to do it. Or better yet, a Giles-in-Training. Got it? Good, I’m hanging up now.” And with that, Dawn flipped her phone shut and looked around. The police station was like every other she’d seen; hustling, bustling and full of guns. On reflex she tried to count them all, assessing the threats, but there were too many. Feeling wigged, she reached into her pocket to grip the pen knife there. Almost instantly she felt relieved.
Squaring her shoulders, she marched to the front desk. “Hi, could you direct me to Detective Beckett? Please and thank you.”
Kate was tired. The case was going nowhere. She had a dumped stolen car filled with the pieces of 2 different people, and an indecipherable journal left behind, that would not be deciphered until they could contact an expert, but the problem was identifying the language so that they could get the right expert. On top of that the FBI was now breathing down her neck all because one eager Uniform decided it was a Federal case because the crime scene was 10 feet from a state border. The potential for it to because a serial case had the uppers worrying and the feebs salivating, just waiting for another body or two to drop so it could be theirs, the vultures.
She sighed and collapsed into her chair, covering her face with a groan. Hearing a soft snickering coming from her left, she straightened and looked towards the noise. It was a young girl barely out of her teens, she was looking at their murder board… laughing.
“Ah, Miss, Can I help you?” Dawn spun on her heel hearing the voice. Seeing the raised eyebrow, she smiled sheepishly.
“Sorry, I got bored waiting… and I wasn’t snooping, the pictures were all laid out. Plus the joke in the margins was pretty funny. I mean to think a goat could do that. The other stuff not so much, the guy likes his creep factor.” She glanced at the desk the older woman was sitting at then grinned. “You must be Detective Beckett. I was waiting for you.”
Light confusion flooded Kate’s face. “I am. Hold on, you can read that?” She pointed at the photographs of the journal that were pinned to the board.
“Uh, maybe… If I’m not supposed to then no.” Cursing her luck, Dawn reached into her bag and pulled out a packet of papers. “Why does this always happen to me? First that stupid job interview in Colorado, they made me sign so many freaking confidentiality agreements, my hand still hurts! Why can’t I just learn to keep my eyes to myself?” Ranting softly, she sat in the chair beside the cluttered desk. “Look I can refer you to a Navajo translator but I can’t do it. I’m not certified and the Diné look down on a Bilaganna being used in official capacities and really, I don’t need any more issues with them. I’m just here to get my car. I have a symposium in Pennsylvania to get to in like, two days.”
Kate blinked, her brain momentarily stalled at the overflow of words. As the meaning and information of the rambling took root, she settled back into her chair. “Well, thank you for identifying the language; it would have taken weeks just to figure that out. We’d greatly appreciate any contact you’d be willing to give, given that they are properly certified.” She paused then wrinkled her brow. “Now about your car, miss…”
“Oh, Summers, Dawn Summers.”
“Miss. Summers. This is homicide, we don’t do cars.” Beckett said smiling softly.
Dawns face fell into confusion. “Is there another Detective Beckett in the precinct?” When Kate shook her head, she continued. “Why was I directed to you, then? The officer said I’d have to talk to a Detective Beckett about getting my Isuzu back.” As Dawn was digging in her bag, she missed the wince that flashed over Kate’s face.
“Yeah, a ’95 Isuzu Rodeo. My sister borrowed it a week ago but there was an emergency so she ditched it near the airport. Of course she didn’t tell me she’d left the city until yesterday when she called from Milan. Boy was I pissed. Still am. But, she promised she’s not going to borrow it again, and no one is allowed to drive it when I’m out of town anymore. Not to mention, I get a pair of Manolo Blahnik and two Jimmy Choos out of this faux-paus.” Giving up on her search she grinned at Beckett. “I thought the note I made myself was in here but I must have misplaced it. So since I was misdirected here, think you could redirect me to impound or where ever all the little lost cars go?”
Kate bit her lip. “I spoke to soon, we do have your car, but you may want to get more than three pairs of shoes.” Rather than explaining, she pointed to the board, to the right of the journal photos, at the more gory images.
“Aww… Dammit.” Dawn pulled out her phone and hit the first speed dial. Not even greeting the person on the other end, she spoke fast, while standing so she would be free to pace. “Buffy! Why did you need MY car?! You owe me so much now!... Why? WHY?! My car is a freaking crime scene… No it wasn’t me!... There are or were body parts in it… YES HUMAN!... Of course I’m not keeping it! IT would cost more to reupholster the thing than it is worth…. There is too much blood, it won’t just scrub out… Never mind, just call the house in town and see if I can borrow a car from them, ok?... Yes! I still get the fricking shoes! Buf, CRIME SCENE. You left my car and now it is all gooey and red. I deserve those Jimmy Choos… I’ll take a cab back, but I can’t take a cab to Pennsylvania. Well I could, but you try explaining that charge to Giles… I know, I know… Love you too, Bye.”
As she hung up, Dawn growled, then ran a hand through her hair violently. Plopping into the chair she smiled wanly at the grinning detective. “So now that I’m getting a new car out of my sister on top of the shoes, what do I do about old Izzy there? Any scrap heaps on file or something?”
“You’d have to talk to Evidence and Impound. They’re in the basement.”
Dawn sighed. “Great.” Reaching out she grabbed a sticky note and a pen that rested on the desk scribbling down a name and number she handed them back. “That’s a number of Kai Harding, she is Navajo and is a certified translator. She is guest lecturing in New Hampshire this week, so if you call now she might be able to come down.” Dawn stood and packed all her various papers away. “Have fun, the guy sounds like a nut job.” She waved goodbye to the distracted woman who was already making a call.
Looking down at her keys, Dawn pouted. She really liked this car. It was her first and she’d paid for it all by herself. Maybe she could wring a matching purse out of Buffy.
Translation: Diné means Navajo. and Bilaganna is their word for white men, kind of like Gringo.
A.N. So I know most of these Castle/BtVS has some violence towards Rick, and I admit that there were some mental writings that involved a broken nose and blood, but it just didn’t work out that way. Anyway this is a oneshot, but if there are any good suggestions that you have, just review and maybe they will spark something. Hope you liked it!