A/N: This was a prompt fill I wrote over on tumblr a little while ago, and I was going to add it to "Snapshots" with the rest of my prompt fills, but I think it works better on its own. The prompt can be found at the end :)
"Noah's at the baseball with my dad."
The words leave her mouth the moment she opens the door, her posture tense and unreceptive.
"I know he's with your dad. I wanted to talk to you."
He tries to keep his tone light, because this is the whole reason he's here – the way she wants to retreat as soon as she thinks they might have a conversation that doesn't involve their son. But they can't avoid it forever.
They slept together.
He'd joke that it's not a big deal, after all they have done it before, but they're both aware that it is, in fact, a big deal.
They've been divorced two years, and they had finally settled into the rhythm of being friends and parents to Noah, and now everything's a mess.
He'd hosted Noah's birthday party at the loft, and she'd stayed to help clean up afterwards, making them the last two there with Noah sleeping upstairs. They'd been getting along well and after an afternoon of entertaining a bunch of sugar-filled kids who were energetic at the best of times, if felt wrong to see her off without at least offering her a glass of wine.
But then she was beside him on the couch and they were too content, the craziness of the day over, leaving blissful silence in the loft.
He honestly doesn't know who moved first, only that her mouth was on his, his hand at her jaw, and neither one of them wanted to stop.
She roused him in the middle of the night with a whisper in his ear, something along the lines of not wanting Noah to see her, and when he woke up the next morning he was left with the fading scent of her on his pillow and the suspicion that they'd never talk about it again.
He wasn't wrong.
She's been avoiding him as much as possible; picking up Noah from school on days when she'd usually collect him from his place after work, and when they do see each other, she's distant, refusing to continue any conversation unless it's about Noah and Noah alone.
It was fine for a few days, but it's now been five weeks, and they can't go on like this. They need to make a decision, whether it's to work at regaining the friendly, divorced relationship they had before as co-parents, or whether it's to give it another go.
"I need to talk to you," he clarifies, standing firm.
He's not sure what he's going to say. He knows he wants her desperately, but the memory of how much pain they caused each other is still vivid, and it makes him think twice.
"I need to tell you something, too," she admits, stepping aside to let him in.
He's barely inside the apartment when she blurts out the words, her eyes shining.
"I'm pregnant."
…
She remembers the first time she told him she was pregnant.
The joy of finally sharing good news with him after so many months of trying, both of them pretending it didn't hurt when another month passed by with another negative result.
She remembers that night, five weeks ago, when he'd confessed he didn't have a condom and she'd told him if he was clean it didn't matter, because she hadn't slept with anyone since their divorce, and they both knew the chances of her getting pregnant were virtually non-existent.
If Noah was their miracle, this one…
Castle would say it's a sign. Well, he would have back when he believed in that kind of thing: fate and meant to be.
Before they became two people who barely spoke, only exchanging words of anger.
He's staring at her, gobsmacked, and she breathes deeply, letting him comprehend it.
"You're…"
"Pregnant," she repeats, nodding softly. "It's yours," she tells him needlessly.
"Kate, you're…"
He hugs her suddenly, his arms tight around her as rests his head on her shoulder.
"We're having another baby."
…
Pregnant.
There's no question as to whether she wants to keep it – he can see the wonder in her eyes, the fierce joy at the prospect of this child, even if it is unexpected, to say the least.
Alexis was unexpected.
This is…
They struggled for so long to get Noah that he'd resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn't have any more kids.
He can't resist pulling her into his arms. Screw the distance that's been between them. Screw trying to regain the careful balance of a friendship that they found for Noah's sake following the divorce.
Somehow without the pressure of actually being married they've been able to work through the issues that tore them apart in the first place, and while he knows they still have a lot of work to do, he's struck with the certainty that he wants this. He wants Kate, and Noah and this child – he wants their family back.
He lets her go reluctantly, allows her to read the love in his eyes that never disappeared – not really.
Even when they were divorcing he knew that he would always love her – he resigned himself to it – even though they couldn't make it work. But over the last few months they've been getting along like they used to, without all the anger and spitefulness, and surely… surely this is some kind of sign?
He looks back at her, afraid to see that she's reached a different conclusion, but her gaze is focused on him, giving him a single second to realise what she's thinking before she presses her lips to his.
He groans, powerless to do anything but deepen the kiss, and she swings a leg over him, straddling his thighs as her mouth moves against his fiercely.
"Kate," he manages, unable to resist kissing her once more before continuing. "We shouldn't-"
"Why not?" She wants to know, trailing kisses to his neck, burying her face there.
"Fuck, Castle. I want you."
They should talk about this – about what it means – but when she lifts her head, her eyes wild as she kisses him languidly, all logical thought escapes him.
…
She's lying sated beside him, her breathing still laboured, when there's a knock at the door.
"Shit."
She's a flurry of movement, pulling clothes on and running her fingers through her hair, telling him to stay put before rushing to the door.
He hears her without even straining his ears, listening as she greets her father and Noah interrupts with stories of the baseball game, his voice high pitched with excitement.
"Katie…" her father's voice is leading, firm, but she cuts him off.
"Goodnight, dad. Thanks for taking him."
Then Noah's saying goodbye and the door's closing, and he can hear Noah scurrying around the apartment before Kate finally corrals him into his room to get him ready for bed. Their son is all energy, and Kate takes her time with him, getting his teeth brushed and settling him in for the night as his excitement fades. She reads to him until his interjections become few and far between, and then when Noah's mumbling words he can't quite make out, she's singing softly, and he can't stay put any longer.
Noah's probably drifting off anyway, and he needs a glimpse. Just a glimpse.
He tiptoes out of her room to the room next door, peeking around the open door to see Kate curled up with their son, her voice soothing and melodic as Noah's eyes flutter closed.
She knows he's there; her eyes catch his before he's able to slip out of sight, and she shoots him a stern look. He can't even pretend to be apologetic, too enraptured by the sight before him.
Why did they ever give this up?
…
She stays with Noah after he's fallen asleep, unable to resist the extra few moments with her son and reluctant to face her ex-husband, who is lurking in the doorway, stealing glances at her when he thinks she's not looking.
Her father knew the moment she opened the door that something had happened between them. She couldn't hide the enamoured look in her eyes, and she had to usher him out because she didn't want to hear it, not again.
"You two are the closest divorced couple I've ever seen, Katie. Don't you ever wonder if you made a mistake?"
Fuck, of course she has.
When she realised she was hiding out at work because she didn't want to go home to another argument, another night of harsh, angry words and sleeping on opposite edges of the bed, she thought it was the best option. After so much miscommunication and animosity she thought it was better to admit that it was time to give up, rather than trying to force a relationship that was being held together by their son.
But then in trying to be friendly for Noah's sake, in an effort to ensure their son knew he didn't have to choose between them, that he could love them both and he didn't have to hide it from the other, the anger dissipated.
Somewhere along the way they worked through so many of the problems that plagued them as husband and wife, and then she could no longer deny the love for him that had been lying dormant, buried underneath anger and hurt.
That whole day together as a family, followed by wine on the couch with him by her side was just too much for her. It was a day reminiscent of the good times they shared, and all she could think was how much she missed him. How much she ached for him.
When he met her half-way, there was no time for second thoughts.
Now she's pregnant, and her ex-husband is standing in the doorway of their son's room wearing boxers and a soft smile, and she has no idea what to say to him.
That night reignited feelings that she can no longer ignore, but she can't go through the destruction of their relationship, not again. It hurt too much the first time. This time around it has to work. They have to channel the sparks, the emotion, into love, not anger.
She untangles herself from Noah reluctantly, brushing a kiss to his forehead and smiling when he flops onto his stomach into the space she just vacated, still fast asleep. She pulls his door almost all the way closed, finding Castle only a step away, his arms sliding around her waist.
"Rick…"
She sighs, too exhausted, too confused to try to figure this out tonight, and he recognises it instantly, giving her a knowing smile.
"We don't have to talk about it now," he says, his hands still on her hips, unwilling to let go. "We've got – what – eight months to figure it out?"
She smiles, relieved, but he's not finished.
"Just say I can stay the night," he says, so hopeful. "Please?"
She bites her lip, unable to deny that curling up next to him sounds so much more appealing than sleeping alone tonight, but she has no clue how they'd explain it to Noah without confusing him, and they have so much to talk about, so many issues to resolve if they're really going to try again...
One look at him silences the logical voice in her head.
She was the one who kissed him, giving up all pretence of whatever friendship remained after that first night, because when it comes down to it, she wants this.
"Stay with me, Castle," she says, stealing a quick kiss from his lips. "Stay."
…
Their daughter is the spitting image of Kate.
Right from the beginning, when she refused to be born until the doctors were considering a C-section, he had joked she was as stubborn as her mother, earning him what he still claims was a broken finger despite the doctor's assurances that he was fine.
Today, though, the physical resemblance is unmistakable.
At nineteen months old she's all dark curls and sparkling eyes, and when Kate lifts her into her arms, the similarities of them side by side take his breath away.
"You ready, Castle?" Kate asks, smiling brilliantly.
"Yes," he returns, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips that causes the girl to shriek with laughter.
"Let's get married."
"Again," Noah interjects, his smile wide, and Castle leans down to scoop him up, even though he's too old and too heavy to be held for long. Kate kisses his cheek, laughing with their son.
"Yeah, Castle. Let's get married again."
Prompt:
"Kate and Castle got divorced two years ago, they have a kid together, after another night of trying to top the top 10 Kate ends up pregnant at the end they get remarried."
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