A/N: This is the final chapter. The fic came about when I had a vision of Phil watching his friends and family through binoculars, keeping tabs on them and knowing he could never be a part of their lives again. This is how I chose to bring him back.

Many, many thanks go out to ladygris for taking the time from her RL issues to Beta for me. I treasure her friendship very much.

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

~Sandy

A Stair of Swords

Chapter Ten

Five days. That's how long it took for Fury to debrief Phil on the events of the last two years, medical to certify him fit and psych to declare that he was mentally sound. And for him to remember where he'd seen Conundrum before.

At his own suggestion, he sat in on Fury's next meeting with the WSC, but in the shadows where the councilmembers couldn't see him. With a nod, he confirmed the identity of Conundrum. Touching his headset, Phil alerted the strike team lead by Clint and Natasha, and moments later, the center screen erupted in chaos as the lone woman on the Council was unceremoniously taken into custody. And she did not go quietly, calling out for her attorney and vowing she'd have all their jobs. Clint brought the house down when he stated for all to hear, "Lady, you can HAVE my job. Then I won't have to deal with b***** like you. Now move it or lose it."

Clint's face filled the monitor as Natasha dragged the Brit from her home office. He grinned and the screen when black. The two councilmembers still online began talking at once until Fury calmly inquired, "Will that be all, gentlemen?"

Without responding, the men shut down transmission as Fury went to his desk. "The paperwork's gone through to re-establish you as a living, breathing resident of the United States. Even got you an apartment in Manhattan. Your reinstatement as an agent of SHIELD will take a few more days…if that's what you want. There's also a bank account in your name with two years of back pay in a high-yield interest-bearing as of noon five days ago."

Taking a slow journey out of the shadows and into the pool of light over the desk, Phil kept his eyes on the floor directly in front of him as he ordered his thoughts. "That's very generous of you, sir."

"I sense a but coming."

"I would like some time to think about it."

Nodding, Fury accepted his request. "That is, of course, your prerogative. Your job will be waiting for you if or when you decide you want it. And my door is always open."

"Thank you, sir." Phil shook Fury's hand, turned and walked off the bridge, not stopping until he reached his assigned quarters. It wasn't his "old" room, but it held a special memory of the night he spent with Natasha. He wasn't so arrogant as to think that it had been about more than relieving stress. It had been emotional for him and that made it a big deal…to him. But Natasha was difficult to read at the best of times. She was gone when he woke up, and he'd only seen her once since then from across the Mess Hall. She either hadn't seen him or pretended she hadn't.

Gathering his personal belongings, what few he had, he closed the door and headed out on deck. The soldiers and agents nodded greetings as they performed their assigned duties. He thought about waiting for Clint and Natasha to bring in Conundrum, known to most of the world as Lady Avery Thompson-Stewart, to confront her personally, but didn't want to upset the delicate balance any more than he had.

"Agent Coulson, sir. Give you a lift?" The young woman was a pilot he recognized as having come on board not more than a few weeks prior to the invasion.

"Executive Center Airport just outside Manhattan, please."

A few strands of brown hair had escaped from the elastic, but she didn't seem to notice. "Yes, sir."

Following her and the co-pilot on board the quinjet, the last flight he'd taken with Captain Rogers came to mind as well as what happened afterward making the scar on his chest ache. One day, perhaps, he'd get a chance to thank the living legend for the cards, but for now, he'd leave well enough alone. He'd leave everyone well enough alone until he figured out what he really wanted.

~~O~~

"You are under arrest for murder, enslavement, perfidy, forcible transfer of population, enforced disappearance, torture…" In a voice devoid of emotion, Natasha recited the list of crimes against humanity Lady Avery Thompson-Stewart would be tried for in an international court of law.

"That's a lie! I saved them! I gave them life! They were dead to their families, their friends, to all the people who professed to love them…"

Thompson-Stewart's handcuffs were snapped around one of those thick bolts used to tie down heavy loads to keep them from shifting during transit, and though she struggled, her strength was no match for the quinjet's alloy hull. To Clint's dismay, she only stopped her tirade to take a breath.

"…and I gave that back to them. I should be praised for the enormous strides in medical technology made during Project Phoenix. I should be given the Nobel Prize. I-"

Thompson-Stewart drew back when Natasha shoved her way to the prisoner, standing so close that she could kill the woman if she chose. Her widow's bites whined through the power-up, small charges of electricity sparking around both wrists. "If you say 'I' one more time…"

The woman who'd been raised in aristocracy, every whim catered to from the day she was born, snapped her mouth shut, a look of pure outrage in her eyes that anyone, let alone someone known as the Black Widow, would speak to her in that manner. As far as Clint was concerned, it was about time someone put her in her place, and he silently applauded his partner for the audacity.

Natasha whirled away from the prisoner, stomping her way to the front of the quinjet. Crossing her arms, she sat down hard on the padded bench behind the pilot's seat, eyes on her feet and breathing fast through her nose. As her partner and friend, it was Clint's job to cheer her up. Dropping onto the bench next to her, he took her small hand in his, the leather of her gloves warm from her skin. "She's not worth getting excited over, you little matryoshka doll."

Turning her head so fast her hair was a red spray around her, Natasha squeezed his hand so tight it almost hurt. "What did you call me?"

"You know. Those little wooden dolls that come one inside the other."

Pulling her hand free, she pressed her fingers to her mouth to keep from laughing. "Your Russian needs work, Barton."

Shrugging as if he didn't care, Clint sat back in his seat, crossing one leg over the other. "Made you laugh, didn't it?"

"Da."

To prove to her and himself that his Russian was perfect, Clint continued in Natasha's native language. "So, Nat. You and Coulson, huh?"

She reacted without thought, her eyes widening and her mouth dropping open in shock. "I…have no idea what you… All-all we did was…talk."

"Ri-i-i-ight. You know, I haven't had a good discussion with a woman in a long time. Maybe I can find someone to strike up a conversation with this weekend."

"But we didn't…"

Clint cut off her protest by nudging her shoulder with his. "I saw you sneaking out of his room at 0645 when you're usually in the gym by 0600, so save it, sweetheart."

Sitting back and huffing in defeat, Natasha chewed on her lower lip until the silence became too much. "Fine. Just keep it to yourself, Eblan."

"Too late. Now that he's back, we resurrected an inactive pool. Gettin' the bets in before the two of you commenced conversatin' was a b****, but we did it."

"And naturally you came out the winner."

A sad smile came over his features and one hand lay over his heart. "Having been present at the start of the event, I graciously recused myself."

"Der'mo!"

"It's true. Ask Fury. He was the big winner." Clint said it like a challenge, but to his disappointment, Natasha didn't take him up on it. And the gleam of mischief that came into her eyes set all of the archer's senses on alert.

"You still have a thing for Hill?"

Much the way she'd done earlier, his head snapped around in shock. "Who told you about…I mean, what're you…O-oh, I get it. You're on a fishing expedition. Something to hold over my head so I'll shut up about you-know-who." Pursing her lips, Natasha just stared ahead, refusing to confirm or deny. "Okay. Okay. I admit that once, a long time ago, I might've harbored a small yet very intense daydream…"

"Fantasy," she corrected.

"…about how long it would take to melt that frosty exterior of hers with just a few passionate kisses, but that's it. I've been over it for a long ti-stop laughing! It's true!"

The pursing turned into a smirk, but she didn't utter another word until a few minutes after the quinjet landed on the deck of the helicarrier and then it was only to tell the prisoner to shut up…again. While the guards took Thompson-Stewart to a holding cell, Clint and his partner went to the bridge to make their report.

~~O~~

As she and Clint were leaving the bridge, Natasha stopped in the doorway, a smirk taking up residence on her face until Clint was out of hearing range. "Agent Hill."

"Yes?"

"Agent Barton would like to have a few words with you in private this evening."

Hill's forehead crinkled slightly in puzzlement at the emphasis the Russian put on 'words', but didn't pursue it. "Of course. It'll have to be quick because I've scheduled an orientation for the new recruits at 1930."

Grinning at the look on her partner's face when Hill showed up at his door asking what he wanted to talk to her about, Natasha went straight to her quarters, booted up her computer and sat down to write her report with one eye on the time. Her best guess was Hawkeye would be pounding on her door sometime in the next few minutes, angry and embarrassed.

Thirty minutes later, Clint still hadn't called or come by to give her hell for the prank so she got in the shower, expecting him to be impatiently waiting when she was done. Once again, he was conspicuous by his absence. That left her with nothing to think about but what she'd been avoiding for days: Phil.

The first time she saw him in Detroit, alive and breathing and knew he wasn't a figment of her imagination, that she wasn't asleep and dreaming of him again, she'd wanted so much that there didn't seem any way for her get it.

When Bruce first came on board, Natasha had known intellectually, that he could transform into the Hulk, the Other Guy, at any moment. And after the engine blew up, it happened and it was so much worse than she thought it would be. Having the Other Guy chase her through the ship, destroying equipment, intent on killing her because, to his primitive mind, she was the cause of his pain scared her so bad she sometimes still dreamed of that day.

Thor had come to her rescue, whether that had been his intention or not. And while she cowered in the dark, too afraid to move, all she had wanted was for Phil to take in her in his arms and hold her until the fear subsided, but Loki had killed him before that could happen. And for two years, she had lived with the fact that she'd never told Phil how she felt about him. He hadn't made a move either, though the reason was very simple. He was her handler, and Clint's, when it came to missions. They were a team, the three of them. Phil had recruited Clint and Clint had sort of recruited her.

Now the partners reported directly to Fury. No middleman. Phil, and her feelings for him, messed with her head in a way she didn't like at first. By the time she became used to it, finally grasping the concept of honest emotion verses those she'd been trained to simulate, it was too late. Phil was gone.

But now he was back. Or had been. Fury sent an email letting her know that Phil had made the decision to take time to settle back into the world before making changes to the status quo.

Rubbing her hair with a towel, she returned to her computer and accessed Phil's updated personnel file.

Natasha had lied to Clint earlier. She and Phil hadn't talked, at least not much. Certainly not about their feelings or what finally being together in the truest sense of the word meant to them. Good thing, too, because she wouldn't have known what to say. She wasn't even certain the feelings were meant to last a lifetime. With all the enhancements done to her at the 2R facility, chances were better than even that she would outlive him for quite some time. And that's when she realized how precious this feeling was. She had to grab onto it with both hands and not let go. A line from a song she once heard told the story.

There's never a wish better than this when you only got a hundred years to live.

The name of the song and the artist had never been known to her. It was about living every moment to the fullest because you're not guaranteed a hundred years. Hell, you've not even guaranteed a hundred months, weeks, days, hours, minutes or even seconds. Something else she'd heard stated it perfectly.

This is life. No one gets out alive.

Time to reach out for something you really want, she told herself. And now she was sure she wanted Phil. Not just for a night, but for always.

The events of the last few days caught up with her. She yawned and was about to shut down the computer when she received an IM…from Clint.

Thanks! I owe you!

She smiled then began to laugh. Her prank had backfired…spectacularly! Climbing into bed, she fell asleep with a smile, happy for her friend.

In the morning, Natasha requested and was granted a leave of absence. Hill approved the time off before she could finish the lie she'd created on the way to the bridge. And Natasha didn't have to ask her friend what happened last night. It was right there, if you knew where to look.

Natasha hoped Phil wouldn't mind when she just showed up on his doorstep without calling first. If he did, changing his mind would be easy. She'd persist until she convinced him.

Getting out of the cab at Phil's apartment building, Natasha looked up at the stone edifice. At one time, she could've seen him living in a place like this, but life was different now for both of them.

"Tasha!" Looking up, Natasha shielded her eyes from the glare of the sun to see Phil leaning out a window.

"Can I come up?" For an answer, the door buzzed and she rushed to open it. Too impatient to wait for the elevator, she took the stairs to the third floor to find him waiting in the foyer, hands shoved in the pockets of a pair of navy cargo pants paired with a blue and white striped shirt and sneakers.

Phil shrugged as he led the way down the hall to an open door. Inside, the loft apartment looked nothing like the exterior. The building had once been an old warehouse. However, the decorator must've been colorblind because everything was white. Furniture, walls, floors, curtains. Artwork hung on the walls, black and white abstracts that made one feel as if the entire world was monochrome. The only spots of color were the books lining the built-in shelves under the stairs and clothing tossed over the back of the sofa.

In the family room, the sofa and chairs had been pushed off to one side to make space for a mattress and box spring. Strangely, a feeling of impending doom came over her and when she looked up, there was the source.

A platform stuck out from the walls over what was meant to be a cozy dining area that led to the kitchen. The platform couldn't be called a bedroom because to be an actual room walls were necessary. There were no walls or railings to prevent someone from falling off the side should he or she get out of bed during the night or sleepwalk. Phil had solved the problem in the only way possible. He relocated the bed downstairs.

Natasha finished her quick perusal, coming back to Phil who still watched her with those penetrating blue eyes. "Needs more color."

Hands in his pockets again, he leveled a small expression of reproof at her. "You didn't come here to give me decorating tips, Tasha."

"I want…" she looked down at her hands, suddenly uncertain.

"What, Tasha? What do you want?" His voice was soft, filled with expectation…and hope.

It's time to declare yourself, Natalia. Summoning all her courage, she responded with the only answer possible. "You. I want you."

~~O~~

The streets of Manhattan looked no different today than they had when Phil had been inexplicably drawn to the Java Loft where he reacquainted himself with Alexis Castle. Only this time, he wasn't alone and on the run. Now that he and Natasha were together, really together, his life had become a cliché. Colors seemed brighter, the sun warmer-not always a good thing, especially in summer-food tasted better, and he slept soundly without the crazy dreams that he now knew were glimpses of his life prior Project Phoenix.

The chems had worked their way out of his system, letting in all of his memories. Before leaving the helicarrier, he'd been given the most thorough physical ever. SHIELD's doctors would continue to monitor him for any lasting side effects, but other than that, he had made the difficult decision to break away from the agency that epitomized secrecy. He needed to do something that didn't involve lies and deceit as standard operating procedures.

A sign in the window of the coffee shop stated that the franchise was for sale, and that got him thinking about what to do with his time. Boredom set in when Natasha was gone and he needed something to engage his mind, keep him centered and involved with the world around him again. The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like a good idea. A great idea, in fact.

Phil was jerked out of his thoughts when Natasha took his hand. "Go talk to the owner."

Shaking his head and smiling that she knew him so well, he claimed a kiss before leaving the table.

Three weeks later, Phil proudly stuck a sign in the window that read, "Under New Ownership" then unlocked the door for his first day of business with Natasha at his side.

~~O~~

"You're sure this is what you want?" Rick Castle asked Alexis. They were sitting together on the sofa, his arm around her shoulders.

Nodding, she laid her hand on his chest. "I'm taking a semester off just to recharge and reevaluate. The university counselor said my scholarship will still be there when I come back."

"And it has nothing to do with your trip to Detroit?"

"Maybe a little. Maybe one day I'll go into the family business and become a spy like my grandfather, but not for a while. Who know? Maybe I'll get married and raise a family instead."

"I'll back whatever choice you make." He kissed the top of her head the way he'd been doing since she was a child then walked her to the door. "Bye."

A cab was already idling at the curb when she pushed out the front door. She jumped in, gave the address and the driver pulled into traffic. Alexis arrived a short time later at her favorite Java Loft where she now worked part time for her friend Phil. Before going inside, she watched him with Natasha. The shop only had a few customers, all occupied with individual pursuits, paying no attention to the couple behind the counter. With her now shoulder-length red hair back in a ponytail, Natasha looked nothing like the photos and drawings of the Black Widow still finding their way onto the Internet.

As his friend, Alexis was glad that he'd found someone. After his break-up with Abigail, brought on by their vastly different schedules, the secrecy surrounding his job and the fact that she'd taken a position with the Portland Symphony Orchestra, she had worried that he would be heartbroken for the rest of his life.

Because Alexis worked at the Java Loft, her dad, Kate and Grams came in, as did the cops from the precinct. Natasha and Phil's friend, Clint, came in with his girlfriend and sometimes she even saw the other Avengers as well. Just the thought that the place might be filled with cops and/or the Avengers made it the safest business in Manhattan.

Tonight, it would just be her, Phil and Natasha with Clint and Steve arriving later. When Phil introduced her to Captain America, she'd gawked at him like a lovesick teenager. Steve had shaken her hand and called her "Miss Castle" with a shy smile. Phil caught her watching him one night while he was sweeping the floor after closing and was quick to let her know that Steve wasn't seeing anyone, if she wanted to ask him out. In terms of experience in general, he was way ahead of her, or had been until The Misadventures of Phil and Alexis, as her dad called it.

Taking her personal items to the back, Alexis tied an apron around her as she came out to begin her shift. A few minutes later, a busload of people came in and they barely had time to breathe for the next two hours.

~~O~~

Arriving at the Java Loft thirty minutes ahead of schedule, Clint saw that the place was full. He grabbed an apron from the back, washed his hands and dived in head first. He'd spent his day off with Hill and had invited her to join him, to get to know Alexis. The girl was Phil's friend and he wanted her to think of him as a friend too, but Hill had work to catch up on.

To amuse himself, Clint considered the looks on the faces of junior SHIELD agents were priceless after his "reinstatement" following the big scene he'd made when quitting. With a quirk of humor, he wondered if there were still bits of "scene" sticking to the ceiling. He often wandered past a cluster, glaring, just to see them scurry out of his way as if he'd go ballistic on them like he had on Fury. Never mind the fact that the truth of his "defection" had come out at his official return to duty. Still, it provided a few minutes of fun.

Hill and Clint parted company when she dropped him off in the park up the street. Of course, "up the street" was relative. He'd jogged the six miles from the park to the store in under thirty minutes. Not a record, but not bad for him. And "jogged" was also relative because he used the trek as a chance to work on his free-running skills. Steve showed up a few minutes after Clint did.

Clint spent the next couple of hours hustling coffee drinks, running the register and charming the ladies-and a few men-into increasing the size of their purchase. Steve wasn't much help at working the coffee machines, but he excelled at wiping tables and mopping up spills. Then closing time finally came around.

He turned off the sign and locked the doors with a sigh of relief. Phil and Natasha were behind the counter talking softly while she counted the register. Leaning on the counter as if he were in a bar, Clint said, "Decaf for everyone, my good man."

"You got it." Phil set out five cups as Alexis joined them, holding up her phone.

"That was Detective Ryan. He and Espo are on their way home. Can you make their usual?"

Phil took two more cups from the stack next to the latte machine. "Coming up. Steve?"

The super-soldier looked up from where he was wiping down the last of the tables. "Yeah?"

"Don't worry about sweeping and mopping tonight. I'll come in early and clean up."

"If you're sure…" Steve gathered up all but the one towel Phil was still using and carried them to the back, stopping to wash his hands at the sink. He gave Alexis a shy smile that she returned with a light blush.

The young woman's hair had been dyed its original light red color and had grown out a little since Detroit. Clint had liked the brown with the blonde streaks, but this suited her better. Cap too, if Clint went by the way his eyes followed her when he thought no one was watching. If he left it up to them, they'd play this game forever. And if Clint learned anything from his recent experiences it was not to wait for life 'cause it won't wait for you. He snickered. That sounds like a country western song.

The music coming out of the hidden speakers, calming to the customers, grated on Clint's nerves now that the place was empty. While Phil filled the orders, Clint snuck into the office, changed the channel and returned to the "company" table. From there he could see everything and anyone looking in would see that the store was occupied.

The current song ended just as Clint finished his coffee, tapping the table to the beat of a song by Queen, two with the left and one with the right, and singing along with Freddie Mercury.

Boom-boom-BOOM. Boom-boom-BOOM. Boom-boom-BOOM.

Buddy you're a boy make a big noise
Playin' in the street gonna be a big man someday
You got mud on your face
You're a big disgrace
Kickin' your can all over the place
Singin'

We will we will rock you
We will we will rock you

Getting into the song, Clint got up and danced, getting the others into the swing too. By the time the last chorus ended, the whole group was up dancing. They fell into their seats laughing at themselves and having a great time.

Clint saw Steve peeking at Alexis again and it was starting to give him the creeps. Why didn't the guy just ask her out? Hell, why didn't she do the asking? Time for a little matchmaking, Hawkeye style.

The song changed to Sukiyaki, the Japanese version. Getting to his feet again, Clint went around the table to stand next to Alexis. He made a slight bow, his hand extended, purposely making his tone overly formal. "May I have this dance, lovely lady?"

Stopping herself from giggling, Alexis smiled and lay her small hand in his, batting her eyes. "I'd be delighted, kind sir."

Both were in the black pants and dark green T-shirt that was Java Loft's uniform, but still they bowed and courtesy as if it were a fancy-dress ball. Clint led the young woman around the open area in front of the register, bending her back into a shallow dip when the song ended. Setting her upright again, he winked and grinned making her blush.

~~O~~

Tired after the rush, Alexis just wanted to take a shower and watch some mindless television show until she fell asleep. Then, Clint surprised her with his offer of a dance and she only just managed not to look at Steve hoping he would take the hint. When the dance was over, she decided that, if Steve didn't ask her out soon, she'd ask him.

Ryan and Esposito tapped on the window and Phil went to give them their order. On his way back, he veered off to shut down the last of the machines and grab his keys. "As much fun as this night has been, I'm ready to get out of here."

Clint made her laugh when he cupped a hand around one ear. "And I hear my pillow calling, so I'm outta here. Later."

By the time Clint was out the door, Phil had brought Alexis her things from the back. Every night she worked, one of the SHIELD agents would make sure she got home. She flashed Phil a look, signaling with her eyes, but Natasha was the one who got it. "I know it's my turn, Steve, but would take Alexis home tonight?"

"Sure." Steve crossed the room quickly, holding the door then following her through. They headed for the subway, discussing whatever subject came to mind except the one Alexis wanted to talk about. She'd given him plenty of openings, dropping hints about all the free time she had while taking a semester off from university. He didn't catch any of them though, and by the time they reached her building she was ready to scream.

He bid her a quiet good night, and as he turned to go, she called out to him. "Steve, would you like to go out to dinner or a movie this weekend?"

To her great surprise, he smiled and nodded, "I would. Saturday night?"

"Not sure yet. Give me your phone." Obediently, Steve handed her the cell phone he only used to make calls and she entered her name and number. While in there, she took note of his number, quickly adding it to her contact list. She gave him one last wave as he jogged back in the direction of the subway station, certain she wouldn't sleep at all.

~~O~~

Ryan pulled to the curb in front of the Java Loft that had become their new cop hangout when they weren't at the Old Hunt. Esposito raised his hand to rap on the window, stopping at the sight of Clint dancing with Alexis. "Hey, look."

"Castle is gonna bust a gut." The partners looked at each other and smiled, each knowing what the other was thinking. Esposito took out his phone, setting it to record.

With an evil grin that matched Espo's, Ryan said, "Oh, man! I'd love to be there when he see this."

"We'll hear all about it from Beckett tomorrow, provided we actually make it home tonight."

Ryan waited until Espo sent the video to Castle to say, "Yeah. I'm working so much these days, Jennie feels like a single parent."

Phil opened the door, exchanging the coffee for cash then the guys got back in the car. "It would've been so much more fun if Castle'd seen it in person, as long as we were there too."

Espo shrugged. "Fun is fun. And this will be epic."

~~O~~

Beckett watched the video over Castle's shoulder for the third time. Yes, it looked like Clint was cozying up to Alexis, but as a detective, she knew that looks could be deceiving. Castle moaned again when at the end of the dance, it looked like Clint had kissed his daughter. Beckett took the phone from him and shut it off. "I know you're upset…"

"Upset? That a man old enough to be too old to date my daughter is trying to date my daughter? Yeah, I'm upset!"

"It's just a dance, Castle. No one's seducing anyone."

He paced in the doorway of the den, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. "You weren't there the other night when I stopped in. He was all over her. Then he comes over to me with that arrogant grin of his and asks what she likes to do on a date."

Attempting to placate her fiancé, Beckett slipped an arm around his waist. "Gathering intel? Curiosity? No sense in worrying about it. Come on. Let's go to bed."

"You go. I have to finish this chapter. It has to be sent to the publisher tomorrow."

"Want me to wait up for you?"

Finally smiling, Castle rested both hands on her waist, holding her close. "I'm going to be a couple of hours, and you have to work in the morning."

What Castle said was only a half-truth. He did have a deadline, but he also wanted to wait up for Alexis and was using work as an excuse. Beckett kissed him good night and climbed the stairs to their room, getting into bed and falling asleep almost immediately.

~~O~~

Castle was just finishing the current chapter of his newest Nikki Heat novel when Alexis let herself in the front door. "Dad, what're you still doing up?"

"Deadline," he said distractedly. When he finished the paragraph, he closed the laptop and went to greet his daughter. "How was work tonight?"

She dropped her backpack on the sofa and sighed wearily. "Busy."

Trying to be casual and not overly interested, he went to the kitchen and poured them each a glass of milk. "Anything…unusual happen that you'd like to share?"

Holding the glass in her hand, she smiled and looked down, a light blush coming to her cheeks. "I have a date this weekend with a friend of Phil's." She looked up at him when his glass hit the counter with a clank. "Don't come unglued, Dad. It's just dinner, and maybe a movie."

Alexis finished her drink, rinsed the glass and kissed him on the cheek. "'Night. Don't stay up too late."

When her feet disappeared from sight, Castle finished his milk in one long drink, rinsed the glass then poured a single finger of scotch, sipping slowly as he pictured himself as the father-in-law of a man his own age. The image made his brain ache so he went back to writing.

Saturday evening came around and Castle still hadn't come to terms with who Alexis was dating. Sure, Clint was a spy, assassin and a real live hero, but other than that, what did he have to offer? At the knock on the door, he rushed to answer it, staring open-mouthed at the man standing there.

"Evening, Mr. Castle. I'm here to pick up Alexis. We have a date. Are you okay, Mr. Castle?"

Castle snapped his mouth shut, shock turning to delight. "Come in, Captain Rogers. She'll be right down."

"Thank you, sir. And please call me Steve."

Going to the bottom of the stairs, Castle called out, "Alexis!"

"I'll be right down, Dad. Behave!"

Gesturing for Steve to follow, Castle led the way to the sitting area, just now noticing that the young man was carrying a small bouquet of flowers. Steve perched nervously on the edge of the sofa, the flowers in one hand. Before Castle could engage him in conversation, Alexis' footsteps sounded on the stairs. Steve jumped to his feet and turned, a smile already in place.

Against his nature, Castle was charmed by the young man's gentlemanly manners. Almost as much as Alexis to go by the shy smile she gave Steve at the presentation of the bouquet. She handed the flowers to Castle. "Put these in water, please, Dad."

Before he could say another word, they were out the door. The nightmare picture that had been in his head of Alexis and Clint on their wedding day blurred and changed, replacing the archer with Captain America. Now that picture, he liked. Very much.

With a spring to his step, he went back to the den and returned to Nikki Heat.

In a Secret Location Somewhere in North America

Cypher sat behind the desk that had once belonged to their leader. The word came down that Conundrum had been shown to be a member of the World Security Council, turned in to SHIELD by Enigma. One leg crossed over the other, Cypher rubbed his forehead to ease the beginning of a headache, contemplating a change of vocation. The sort of work he did had caused him much pain in the form of chronic tension headaches and migraines. Facing the wall behind the desk, he didn't turn when Alpha entered. The man cleared his throat, his voice a whisper in deference to the pain he knew Cypher was feeling. "SHIELD has taken all but Paradox and Harbinger into custody."

Cypher chuckled humorlessly. "Harbinger is dead. Killed in an avalanche, if you can believe that."

"We'll have to restart the program with just Paradox."

"Not a good idea. The assets are all time bombs." Hearing Alpha shift his feet, he explained, "Conundrum inserted trigger phrases into their subconscious. All it takes is someone saying the right words in the right order and all hell will break loose."

"What are the phrases? We could use them to get the assets back, restart the process with updated formulas."

Turning around, he sat forward in the chair making it creak. Have to do something about that. "She didn't write them down or tell anyone. Needed an edge, I suppose."

Taking a seat in one of the visitor chairs, Alpha unbuttoned his jacket. "Then we have no choice but to go back to the drawing board."

"This time we have to make certain that the core personalities don't resurface. Contact Dr. Shearing. Tell her I wish to talk to her."

"Conundrum attempted to get her cooperation in the beginning and was turned down."

"There must be something she wants that we can trade for her assistance. We just have to find the right incentive." Cypher paused to think out his idea. "What are the current whereabouts of Outcome Five, Nikki Parsons and Jason Bourne?"

The End

A/N: "100 Years" is a song written and recorded by American singer-songwriter Five for Fighting (John Ondrasik), released November 2003.

"We Will Rock You" is a song written by Brian May, recorded and performed by Queen in 1977.

"Ue o Muite Arukō" ("[I] Shall Walk Looking Up") is a Japanese-language song that was performed by Japanese singer Kyu Sakamoto, and written by Rokusuke Ei and Hachidai Nakamura. It's best known under the alternative title "Sukiyaki." The song was originally released in the United States in 1963. There have been more than twenty covers and variations since 1963.