Hey kids. First off, I feel like I need to start this story with a warning, because it happens to contain two things that I have often sworn I would never write: reference to major character death, and future/family Caskett. So, yeah, don't say I didn't warn you. Also, less of a warning but more of a just-so-you-know, this story is original-character centric.
(I know, what even are all these strange new things I'm doing?)

Disclaimer: If AWM and Co. did this, I'd never forgive them. Three years later and I still don't forgive the Prison Break writers for what they did. (But really, that's a story for another time.)

So, anyways, here we go.

Enjoy.

"Hey, Jake?"

"Yeah?"

The swift response brought a smile to her face, her head lifting to fix her eyes on her handsome young rookie.

Eager as a puppy, Velasquez thought, a comparison that had entered her head more than once in the few days since she'd been assigned her new partner.

A big, manly, "yes-ma'am-no-ma'm" kind of puppy.

Controlling her amused smirk, she lifted her brows slightly, her voice a practiced blend of order and request.

"We need a little more space for all these files. Grab an extra chair, would you."

"Sure," Jake responded instantly, his tall, muscular frame unfolding as he rose from his chair, placing his own stack of files–which had been balancing precariously on his lap, an accident totally just waiting to happen– onto the seat he'd just vacated. Watching him go, she shook her head slightly, then went back to her files, a small smile curving her lips. Clearly, this was a man not used to extended periods of desk work.

Briefly, she wondered whether his swift obedience was due to his years of training in following orders, or simply his eagerness to take the chance to stretch his legs. If she had to guess, she'd probably say both.

Letting out a small, amused huff, she gave her head another small shake. Soldiers. They were all the same.

Barely a moment later, she heard Jake's deep voice beside her once more, startling her.

"Got one."

Looking up, Velasquez lifted an eyebrow at his unexpectedly prompt reappearance. It had been particularly busy in the precinct all day, meaning spare chairs were in short supply– honestly, she'd been half-expecting his search to come up empty, giving her the entertainment of watching his discomfort at not being able to complete such a simple task.

And yet here he was. Score one for soldier boy.

Flicking a glance down at the chair he held, Velasquez looked back up at her partner, lifting an approving eyebrow. "Good work, kid. Just put it–"

Wait.

Looking back at the chair, Velasquez felt her heart sink, her eyes confirming what she already knew.

Oh no.

"Jake," she said slowly, keeping her voice carefully even, "Where'd you get that chair?"

Clearly, the kid's instincts were good; picking up on her tone instantly, he suddenly tensed, his brow furrowing.

"Just over there," he said cautiously, holding the chair awkwardly as he pointed. Then, looking slightly concerned, he asked, "I'm sorry, did I do something? It was just beside the desk over there, with nothing but a few flowers and a scrap of paper sitting on it. No one was around, so I thought it'd be okay to borrow it."

"No, that's okay, Jake," Velasquez said calmly, giving him a small, reassuring smile. "Just go put it back, okay? Exactly how you found it."

His handsome face looking equal parts worried and confused, he did as she asked, carefully placing the chair back beside the desk and returning the paper and the small bouquet of flowers to their rightful place. With that done, he straightened and began to turn, pausing for a brief moment as something in the break room seemed to catch his eye. A moment later he was back, his eyes full of questions.

"What did I do?" he asked quietly, his tone a fixture of curiosity and apology.

Velasquez sighed, then rubbed her temples, letting her eyes close for a moment. "I'm sorry. I forget how new you are, how much you don't know."

"About a chair?"

"Not just a chair," she answered quietly. "Castle's chair."

For a moment there was silence, Jake's brows drawing tightly together as he struggled to understand.

"Is…" he began, then paused, considered, and tried again. "Is Castle the woman in the break room, the one that was just looking at me like she wanted to slap my own cuffs on me?"

"No. That was Detective Beckett," Velasquez explained, then added softly, "She was Castle's partner... and his wife."

Jake immediately stilled, his eyes softening from confusion to a dawning sadness.

"Was?"

Velasquez sighed softly, then began to explain, her voice hushed. "You remember a case a bit over a year back, the senator who was shot and killed while being apprehended on a multiple murder charge?"

Jake frowned, seemingly thinking. "Yeah, I think I remember that. The guy they called The Dragon? Everyone was talking about it at the Academy. About how…" suddenly, he cut himself off, finally putting it together. When he continued, his voice was quiet. "About how he killed the cop who took him down."

Velasquez nodded sadly, feeling the burn of tears behind her eyes. Even over a year later, they all still carried that scar. For some of them– Ryan, Esposito, Gates, and most of all, Beckett– they always would.

"The day Castle came to us, he was no cop, just a civilian doing 'research'. We all knew he was really mostly here for Beckett, but he… he just fit here, I guess, in a way no one could have ever really expected. He earned his place here, better than many of those who went through the Academy. He was truly one of us, and beyond that, he was one of the best cops I ever knew."

Taking a deep breath, she added softly, "The day he died, he not only saved Detective Beckett's life, but he brought down the man she'd been chasing for nearly fifteen years, the man that had murdered her mother. Castle died a hero."

A short, heavy silence followed her words, as Jake took a moment to process what he'd heard, and she to remember and recover.

"I remember them talking about the funeral," he said eventually, his voice low. "Someone said it was the biggest police funeral they'd ever seen."

"It was," Velasquez answered, a small smile curving her lips. "Castle was loved."

"So they gave him an official police funeral? Even though he was technically a civilian?"

Velasquez's smile took on a fierce, almost proud edge, her eyes downcast as she remembered. "They didn't have a choice. Castle lived and died as one of us– he deserved to be buried as one of us. He was one of our own, and that's something you'll learn about this place, kid; we're a unit, a team. Family. Which is why the entire Twelfth Precinct, including our captain, threatened to resign if Castle wasn't given the burial he deserved. Even the mayor was on our side."

Jake gave a small smile, nodding his head slightly in approval. Then, lifting his eyes back to hers, he raised an eyebrow just a fraction.

"And the flowers on the chair…?"

Velasquez felt her own lips curve just slightly, her fingers toying with the pen she held. "People leave things on the chair. A flower, a plastic police badge, a comic book, a kid's toy, a bad joke or silly drawing– things Castle would love. I guess it's our way of saying thanks, and that we miss him, and that we'll continue to remember."

Her eyes still on his, she watched as he seemed to absorb her words, before turning away, his green eyes coming to rest on the flowers atop the chair– and then on the woman who had returned to the desk, her back to them as she wrote notes in a file, the fingers of her other hand curled around a tan and white coffee cup, her thumb absentmindedly stroking the side. Even from where they sat, several desks away, the glint of gold on her ring finger was clear to see.

Seeming suddenly curious, he asked, "What happens to the stuff on the chair?"

"At the end of every week, Beckett collects it and takes it to the cemetery," Velasquez answered quietly, then gave a wry smile, adding, "Castle has one of the most decorated graves in the whole place."

Jake gave a small chuckle, but his eyes were still fixed on Beckett's back, his gaze thoughtful. Watching him, Velasquez couldn't help but feel her respect for him steadily growing; it seemed like her toy soldier knew a little about honoring fallen comrades.

"So, now you know why no one ever moves that chair from its place," she stated levelly, then added, "And really, it's probably one of the very few things that is considered sacred amongst the Twelfth. The coffee machine is another, so treat it with the respect it deserves, or you'll meet with trouble."

Turning his green eyes back to her, he shot her a brief smile before sobering slightly once more.

"Should I... should I apologize to Detective Beckett?"

Velasquez shook her head. "No, it's okay, kid. Really. She'll know that I've explained things, and that you understand now."

Giving a slow nod, Jake let out a slow breath. "Okay."

Grabbing a ball of scrunched up paper from the desk beside her, she lobbed it at his head, smiling.

"Now come on, kiddo. Best to get back to these files before Gates decides to sharpen her teeth on you, because trust me, you don't want to get on her bad side. She's been looking for a new victim ever since Castle left her without her favorite chewtoy."

Hauling the stack of files back onto his lap, Jake shot her a grin.

"Yes, Ma'am."

###

It took him most of the morning to work up the courage to approach her.

After his blunder yesterday– and all he'd learned afterwards– he wanted the chance to make some form of apology, to pay his respects both to the man who had fallen for his country, and to those he'd left behind.

But, Jesus, he'd been in gunfights that were less nerve-wracking than this.

Curling his fingers around the small, wooden object in his palm, Jake took a deep breath, then walked over to her desk, pausing just a foot or two away from where she sat, with Castle's chair just to his left.

"Excuse me? Detective Beckett?"

Her head lifted, her eyes fixing with his, and he felt his breath catch just slightly in his throat. She was more beautiful than he'd realized; he put her at just past her mid-thirties, close to ten years older than himself, and he could easily bet that without the ring on her finger, she'd have no shortage of men after her.

But somehow, he got the feeling that she'd still be wearing that ring until the day she died.

Realizing that she was waiting for him to speak, he cleared his throat, hastily searching for the right words.

"I just, uh, I wanted to let you know that I'm sorry for what happened yesterday. I meant no disrespect. So I, um, made something, and I was hoping that you would allow me to put it on the chair."

Holding out his hand, he uncurled his fingers, revealing the object he'd been holding; a carved wooden talisman, shaped into an intricate knot design.

"It's, uh, it's a Celtic shield knot," he explained, watching almost anxiously as she picked up the object, examining it with a keen eye. Feeling about as moronic as he knew he must look, he pressed on, "They used to put the design on warriors' shields for protection, and to… um, to ward them from evil spirits."

At that, Beckett lifted her head and simply looked up at him for a moment– and for a split second he felt a stab of panic, terrified that he had somehow insulted her or her husband's memory– but then, to his relief and astonishment, she began to smile, a smooth, beautiful curve of the lips.

"Thank you, Jake," she said quietly, and he could hear the sincerity in her voice as she added, "Castle would have loved the thought of that."

Giving a small nod– because he really wasn't sure what else he could say– Jake took a step back, turning to go.

But before he could take even a single step further, her voice stopped him.

"Hey, Jake."

Turning back to face her, he met her gaze squarely, fighting the urge to stare at his feet.

"Yes, Detective?"

Rising from the chair, she stepped forward, holding the talisman up for him to see. Then, giving him a small smile, she placed it on Castle's chair.

"You don't need to be afraid of me, kid," she said, just a trace of teasing in her tone. He had just opened his mouth to reply that he wasn't– a blatant lie, really– when suddenly someone called out across the bullpen, and both he and Beckett instantly turned, reflexively looking for the source of the sound.

"Kate!" called the voice again, and at last Jake found its source. Seeing the slim, gorgeous redhead making her way through the bullpen– though being stopped repeatedly by officers to exchange warm greetings and hugs– he felt his mouth open slightly, unable to do anything but stare.

"You know what, scratch that," Beckett said beside him, dragging his focus back to her. Gathering up her coat and handbag, she shot him a wry look.

"You keep looking at my daughter like that, I'll give you good reason to be afraid of me."

Jake's eyes grew even wider as he looked between the detective and the newcomer.

"Your wh– I, uh, I mean–"

He was still trying to form an appropriate answer when the young woman reached them, her eyes reflecting curious interest as they fixed briefly upon him, a pleasant smile curving her lips as she gave him an acknowledging nod. Then, thankfully, she turned to Detective Beckett, and he was free to breathe again.

"Hey, Kate," the redhead said warmly, wrapping her arms around Beckett, the two of them sharing a tight hug. Then, letting go, the younger woman stepped back and turned towards the empty chair.

"Hey, Dad," she said, her voice totally devoid of embarrassment, seeming not in the least bit self-conscious as she kissed her fingers and laid them briefly atop the backrest of the chair. Then, reaching into her handbag, she pulled out a piece of paper and unfolded it, revealing a colorful child's drawing.

"Theo drew this for you," she told the chair, smiling. "Apparently the one in the cape is you, saving the world. Your weapon of choice is a huge gun that shoots rainbows, which I think sends a pretty deep message."

Looking over her shoulder, Beckett laughed. "He definitely got his dad's creativity. I'm so hopeless that even stick figures are practically beyond my ability. Also, taking a wild guess here, I'm thinking you're the one drawn with fire-engine red hair?"

"Yep, and that's you, holding a gun in one hand and Theo's hand in the other. Don't ask me why there's a tiger beside him though, I still haven't managed to puzzle that one out."

"Hey, as long as it doesn't try to eat anyone, it's welcome to be there."

At her words, the two of them looked at each other and laughed, seemingly sharing some kind of private joke.

Still frozen in place, Jake watched the entire exchange with fascination, unable to look away from this unconventional but touching family moment. He watched as the young woman– he'd put her at about early to mid twenties– leaned down, propping the picture up on the chair and gently fixing the curled edges.

Then, she began to straighten up, but paused, as if something had caught her eye.

"Wow," she said softly, picking something up off the chair. Forcibly lowering his gaze from her face, he looked down at the object in her hand– and sucked in a breath. She was holding the talisman. His talisman.

"What's this?" she asked, looking up at Beckett. "It's beautiful."

Beckett's mouth lifted. "You should ask Jake here. He made it."

Straightening, the young woman turned to him, her blue eyes clear and beautiful.

"You made this?"

"I– yeah. My dad taught me to carve wood when I was a kid."

"Tell her what it means," Beckett prodded, and Jake shifted uncomfortably.

"It's, ah, a protective symbol that used to go on warrior's shields."

Beckett shot him a devious look over the girl's shoulder. "And what was that about the spirits?"

Please, god, don't let him be blushing. Not in front of her.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, Jake added, "It's also meant to, uh, ward off evil spirits."

The young woman grinned. "Oh, that's too perfect. Dad would love that."

Beckett grinned. "That's what I said."

"I love it, too. Thanks, Jake," the redhead said, then held out her hand. "I'm Alexis. You must be new, since I don't think I've ever seen you around before."

Jake shook the proffered hand, hoping like hell that his palms weren't damp with sweat. Two tours in Afghanistan? No problem. One beautiful woman? Daunting as hell.

Clearing his throat once more, Jake nodded. "Yeah, I just got assigned here a few days ago. Just out of the Academy."

"Congratulations," Alexis said, her voice genuine. "Were you Armed Forces before you went through the Academy?"

Jake felt his eyebrows lift in surprise. "Yes, I was. How'd you know?"

Alexis' answering smile was stunning, both playful and sweet.

"Well, you're a little older than most rookies, and you've definitely got that soldier look about you," she explained with a grin, then went on, "There's a few ex-Forces guys here, actually, like Peters and McShea, and of course, Esposito."

Nodding over at a Hispanic detective that Jake hadn't yet been introduced to, Alexis' grin widened.

"Espo's pretty much family, and one of the best detectives I've ever met. If you're looking to learn, he's a great mentor. So's Ryan, his partner over there in the three-piece suit. He was never a soldier, but if you want to get on his good side, just ask him about his daughter. He'll talk your ear off about her but he'll also teach you a lot of things about being a great cop."

Jake blinked. She was talking to him like he was a friend already, not some dumb grunt she'd only just met, and he didn't know how to respond. "Uh, thanks. I'll remember that."

"So who are you partnered with?"

That brought a small smile from him. Looking over at his somewhat bossy but clearly soft-hearted teammate, Jake answered, "Velasquez."

"Ah," Alexis said knowingly. "Cinnamon donuts."

Jake felt his forehead crease as he looked down at her, totally not comprehending. "I'm sorry?"

"Cinnamon donuts. They're her weakness. They'll get you anywhere."

Seeing the grin on her face, he had to laugh. "Thanks. I'm sure that will save my ass someday."

"I don't doubt it will. And you're welcome."

Having stood back during their little exchange, Beckett suddenly cleared her throat, her expression almost amused.

"Well, we better get going, kiddo. I'm starving and not everyone's bosses are as cool about long lunch breaks as Lanie is."

"Pfft, you're Gates' favorite and you know it," Alexis teased, looking up at Beckett with obvious affection.

"Shhh, don't let her hear you say that. She'll lump me with extra paperwork just so no one could accuse her of having a soft side."

Alexis rolled her eyes, but followed it with a smile. "Alright, alright, let's go."

Turning her eyes back to him, Alexis smiled again, but it was a different kind of smile, one that had his heart beating faster, his mouth feeling suddenly dry. Taking his hand again, she pressed the talisman into his palm, her eyes never leaving his.

"Nice to meet you, Jake. Maybe I'll see you around."

Then, letting go, she stepped back, and he blinked, trying to remember how to respond.

"Yeah. Yeah, you too," he managed, trying not to look too dazed as she threw a last smile over her shoulder before heading towards the lift with Beckett.

For a few moments, he simply stood there, watching them go, before he cleared his throat, blinking as he looked down at the talisman he held.

Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, Jake leaned down– under the guise of placing the carved knot back on the chair– but paused for a brief moment, his eyes drifting over the chair and coming to rest on the caped, blue-eyed stick-figure with the rainbow gun.

Taking a deep breath, Jake kept his voice low, his tone respectful.

"Sir, I know you don't know me very well yet, but I'd like your permission to ask your daughter out on a date."

There was no response, the blue eyes continuing to stare unblinkingly out at him, the figure frozen in its technicolor depiction of saving the world. But it was still wearing its wide, crayoned smile, and somehow, it felt like it approved.

Feeling a smile curving his own lips, Jake gave a small, respectful nod.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Well, yeah. I have nothing much to say about this, other than I have no idea where it came from or where the hell it went. The sad part was unexpected. The fluff was unexpected. Creating my own headcanon for Alexis' future husband was certainly unexpected lol.

But anyhow, hope you enjoyed it, and remember, all comments/suggestions for improvement are welcome!

-Laura