The Mothership

She said she just needed to be alone for the day. Not running, she had promised, a hand against his cheek as she tiptoed up enough to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Just a day alone. Promised to see him Monday. And then she had left, shooting a smile back at him as she closed the door to the loft.

He didn't realize what day it was until he woke up. He dresses in a hurry, yanking a pair of jeans and a random sweater on before slipping on sneakers. After finding his mother, handing her the pair of over-the-top earrings he had found in a little boutique down the street, and kissing the women still in his apartment, he makes for the front hall. His coat is halfway on as he hits the button for the elevator, tapping the toe of the sneaker against the wall.

"Forget a Mother's Day present, Mr. Castle?"

He flashes a smile for Eduardo as he opens the door to the building. "Nope. Something else."

There's a cab right outside the building, parked along the curb at the corner. The driver is reading a magazine, mumbling to himself as he turns pages until Castle slides into the backseat. He wants to give her address, get to her as soon as he can. There are stops in between, though, and he's going to do this in the right order.

So it's only an hour later that he's doing what he always does outside her door: taking a deep breath. It's not like before, though. Balancing the two bags in one hand, he knocks lightly.

He almost thinks she's not going to answer. But then the door swings open and in that moment, he knows he made the right decision.

She's trying to hide it and almost doing a good job. Almost. He can tell, though. He can always tell.

"Hey," she says quietly, one bare foot coming up behind the other, linking against her calf. "What're you –"

Then he's kissing her, taking the rest of her question into his mouth as he backs her up against the wall. It's not like before – all barely contained passion and desperation and I'm so sorry – but sweet and tender and I'm here for you. He can feel her hands at his elbows, barely holding on.

"You done now?" she asks as he steps back, closing the door that was left open on the shocked face of the elderly man across the hall. There's a hint of a smile edging in on the sadness he can still see under the veneer. "Cause I was in the middle of something."

"I brought breakfast though," he says, holding up one of the bags.

She snags the bag from him, setting it on the kitchen island, and rooting through it. The smell of French toast and bacon escapes as she opens take-out containers and her little moan cuts through him. A sharp reminder of the other times that same sound hit his ears. And he can tell she knows what he's thinking with a sweep of her eyes over to him as she finds plates and silverware from one of the cabinets.

He takes the things from her, serving up the stuffed French toast and putting bacon and eggs on her plate even though she normally won't do both. "What'd I interrupt?" he asks, turning in the little area and running into her, smooshing the mug she has in her hands between them. "Thanks," he says, plucking the cup from her and pouring out coffee.

"Nothing important," she says, leaning back against the counter and watching him through soft eyes. "Just something that…"

"You do every year on this day?" he finishes for her, sliding her plate across the counter to her. "If you want me to go, I'll go. I just thought…"

One hand carrying both of their plates, Kate finds his hand and links their fingers. "You thought right, Castle. Come on."

The couch is piled with blankets and he can see the evidence that she's spent all day and maybe the previous night there. A coffee mug, stylized K painted across the side, is full so she must have just filled it before he showed up. Tissues litter the floor, hiding under the couch and coffee table and a few in the trash.

She shifts the blankets, tossing them over the back of the couch, and tugging him to sit next to her, plates of food on the coffee table.

And because he can now, he pulls her closer, tucking her against him. "What's this?"

"Mother's Day."

The words sound sad but she's smiling faintly as she fishes an iPad from under one of the throw pillows. The screen is paused but a brush of her finger over the glass starts the episode up again. Marguerite in a hospital bed, a too-buff man at her side proclaiming love in the cheesiest of all dialogue.

"Temptation Lane?"

The smile grows as she props the iPad up on the coffee table, trading it for her food. "Yeah." She tucks her feet up under her, chilly toes pressing against the denim of his jeans.

He touches his lips to her forehead, just against the little freckle that the sun has been teasing out from the rest. "Well that negates what else I brought over," he sighs. When she turns her head up, he takes the opportunity to capture her mouth again, tasting the strawberry cream cheese and cinnamon from the toast. "The entire series on DVD."

"You're talking to the expert here."

"So," he says during the switch between episodes, cup of lukewarm coffee in one hand since the other is still wrapped around one of hers. "Shippers…"

"Can-Fonso," she murmurs, squeezing his hand and biting the piece of bacon. "Joseph is just way too old for Angela and the cheating thing isn't fantastic. No chemistry whatsoever. Plus, Alfonso does have that super sexy Italian accent." Kate leans forward, pausing the opening credits. She twists to face him, eyes serious suddenly.

"Listen. This is something you and your mom did," he starts in, trying to beat her to the point he's sure is coming. "I'll pack up the leftovers, add them to that shrine to the Styrofoam gods you have going, and leave."

She tugs him back onto the couch after he tries to get up. "Not what I was going to say but I'll hold you to the do-the-dishes promise there." Her fingers are warm against his neck as she tilts her head in to rest it against his collarbone. "I wanted to say thanks. For knowing I'd need something."

"Something being breakfast?"

"That was a pleasant surprise. But mostly you."

Then the sounds of Angela and Joseph making out fill the apartment and Kate laughs, her breath feathering over his skin and making him shiver.

"Tell me, Kate," he says, pulling one of the blankets up over her legs, "and I'd like a serious answer."

She hums against his chest, fingers curled around his shirt.

"Do you ship us?"

Her laughter is back and he's sure that somewhere in the world or afterworld, Johanna Beckett is laughing right along with her daughter as she nods.

"Totally, Castle."

Happy Mother's Day to all of you beautiful, amazing, extraordinary women out there.