Note: This story takes place in between 8x06 and 8x07, but includes spoilers for 8x18.


Jim Beckett is surprised by an early-morning knock on his door, and further surprised to find his son-in-law on the other side.

"Rick?"

"Morning, Jim. Sorry to stop by unannounced," Castle says diffidently, shuffling his feet a bit on Jim's porch. "I was hoping to catch you before you left for work."

"No problem. Come on in."

Jim studies the younger man as he enters the house. Rick doesn't look too good. The bags under his eyes have grown, and for such a big man, he seems small and stooped under the weight of stress.

"Coffee?"

"No, thanks. Had enough," Rick says with just a hint of his usual humor. He hovers near the door, awkward, although he has been to Jim's home plenty of times and is usually comfortable here. Rick Castle is a man who typically seems comfortable wherever he is, Jim has found. But lately, nothing seems to be the way it was.

"I take it things aren't any better between you and Katie?" Jim asks gently. Castle sighs and shakes his head.

"Not really. I, I made dinner plans for our anniversary next week, but I don't even know if she'll be willing to come."

Jim echoes his sigh. "How can I help?"

He has been trying so hard to stay out of it, just giving Katie his love and support as neutrally as he can manage. She calls regularly, at least once a week, and he hasn't pressed her for information or tried to change her mind. But god, it hurts, seeing this happen, seeing what it's doing to Rick and to her. Not knowing why, not being able to help.

Rick's head comes up, eyes flaring with gratitude at the question. "Actually, that's what I came to ask about. I was wondering - Kate's motorcycle, is it still in your garage?"

Jim feels his eyebrows rise. Well, whatever he was expecting, this isn't it. "Sure it is. Been there for years. Didn't know she'd told you about it."

"Yeah, she mentioned it a few times. She talked about wanting to ride it across the country some day."

"Oh, yes." Jim nods. "That's been a dream of hers ever since she got it. Spent hours looking at maps, plotting out routes. After Jo died..." He pauses, sighs. "There were moments I feared Katie would do it. Just hop on the bike and disappear. Thought I'd wake up some morning and she'd just be gone."

Rick is silent for a long moment, digesting that. "But she didn't," he says after a moment, and their eyes meet. They share a heartbeat of connection as fathers: as men with daughters and worries.

"I was thinking of getting it fixed up," Castle says then. "Like a, a peace offering? You know?"

"Ah." Jim purses his lips, thinks about it. "Rick, you know you can't buy her back. You can't win her over with things."

"No. I know that," Rick says defensively, bristling a little. "I didn't mean it like that. I ... I don't know. Maybe she feels like she's had to give so much up, being with me." He grimaces painfully. "She moved out of her apartment. She gave up her ... unencumbered single life. She's had to make so many concessions in her job, to work around me and my stupid books." He hangs his head again, melancholy.

"Oh, Rick." Jim's heart is breaking just a little bit more every day, wondering what on earth is going on with his daughter. Does she know? Does she have any idea that her husband is tearing himself apart like this?

He wants to reach out to Rick, but Jim isn't really the touchy-feely type, so he keeps his hands to himself and reaches out with his words instead.

"She loves you, son. I know that hasn't changed. She doesn't blame you for the choices she's made with her life. I know she feels it's all been worth it, for what the two of you have together."

"I hope so," Castle says, rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes still downcast. "I do, and I'm trying to stay positive. But I just, you know, I can't just sit around waiting like this. It's driving me crazy. I have to do something." He gives Jim a beseeching look. "At least this project, getting the bike fixed, it would be something proactive for me to work on. I want to learn to ride one myself, get my license, get a bike of my own. So we can go riding together, whenever she..." He trails off, a slow helpless gesture of his hand indicating the vast mystery of whatever it might be that Kate needs.

"Yeah. Okay," Jim says, catching Rick's eye, giving him a nod of acceptance. "Don't know if it'll get you anywhere, but it's something to try, like you said."

Castle brightens a bit, lifting his head. "Great. Thanks. Can I see it now?"

So eager. The kid's natural optimism just doesn't quit. Jim can't help a smile. "Sure."

He leads Castle into the kitchen and out through the rear door that opens directly into the garage. The motorcycle is in a corner, covered with a heavy tarp.

Rick helps to lift the tarp away, and they drop it to the floor and stand side-by-side, looking at the bike.

Jim has never been a motorcycle enthusiast, couldn't quite get what his daughter ever found so alluring about it - unless it was just the thrill of the forbidden - but he has to admit this is a nice-looking machine. Even under years' worth of dirt and grime, and yes, a bit of rust here and there, its essential nature is still visible: sleek, elegant, and steely-strong. Just like Katie.

"I don't know much about bikes," Castle comments after a moment, echoing Jim's thoughts, "but this is a beauty."

"Yep." Jim nods slowly. "Katie sure loved this bike."

Castle looks at him sidelong, the hint of a grin touching the corners of his mouth. "She said that when she bought it, you threatened to send her to a nunnery."

A surprised laugh bursts free from Jim's throat, pulling Rick's grin fully onto his face, and some indefinable tension seeps out of the air between them.

"I suppose I probably did. That was something I used to say a lot, back then." Jim smiles fondly, remembering Katie as a teen, all sharp angles and prickly temper and sudden, unexpected flares of achingly sweet affection.

"Now that I think about it, this was a good idea," he says then, turning the smile toward his son-in-law. "I think she'll really appreciate it, Rick."

"Yeah?" Castle's eyes flare with hope again. "I'm glad you think so."

"I do." Jim pushes his shoulders back, firms his jaw. "Okay," he continues, putting authority in his tone, because he gets the sense that Rick needs a bit of firm right now. "Why don't I just give you the key to the garage, and you can come by and get her whenever you're ready?"

"That would be great," Castle agrees, straightening out of his slouch, mimicking Jim almost unconsciously, his posture tall again, regaining some confidence. "Actually, I've got a guy lined up, and he's ready any time. We could be back here in an hour."

"Perfect. I have to get to the office, but you can let yourself in."

So they go back inside, and Jim finds his spare garage key, which Rick carefully clips onto his own keyring.

"Just lock it back up before you leave."

"Yeah, of course."

Rick pauses in the front doorway, one foot already out on the porch, looking back over his shoulder.

"Thanks, Jim. I ... I don't know if this will help at all, but I just have to keep trying. Whatever I can think of."

"I know, son."

"I just need her back," he adds, sighing, his gaze falling to his shoes again.

"I know," Jim says again, and he does. He really does.

When Jim gets home from work that evening, he goes to look into the garage again. Rick has folded up the tarp neatly, set it on top of the workbench in the corner. Jim stands for a long moment, just looking at the empty space where the motorcycle had been sitting for all these years.

"I hope to hell you know what you're doing," he sighs into the silence of the garage.

He goes back into the house and takes out an old photo album. There aren't very many pictures of Katie with her motorcycle, but he finds one that's pretty good. Oh, her sweet young face, untouched by tragedy. His little girl.

He takes out his phone and snaps a picture of the photo, and texts it to Rick, adding: Katie would kill me if she knew.

I'll never tell, comes the reply almost immediately. And then, Thanks.

Welcome. Good luck, Jim types, and as he presses Send, he finds that his heart feels just a little bit lighter.


Author's Note: The concept for this story was mine, but credit goes to Lindsey for pointing me to the right time frame in which to set it.

Thank you for reading this, and any of my other fics that you may care to check out. I still have lots of Caskett stories in me, so I'm not going anywhere anytime soon.