I wrote this back in March/April sometime, and never got around to publishing it here on . It's based off of a prompt on tumblr:
"They slept together after Ryan's wedding but never talked about it. Kate finds out she is pregnant but doesn't know how to tell him, especially after the events of 47 seconds."
This is my interpretation of this prompt. Hope you like it!
More fanfics that have not been published here on can be found on redkiera . tumblr tagged/castle+fanfiction
There was something about how happy Jenny and Ryan looked as they swayed on the dance floor to Stevie Wonder that had made Beckett step closer to Castle as they danced. Sought his warmth, rested her head against his shoulder to feel the steady beat of his heart. The open bar, and all the toasts that had been made, had her head swimming in calm fog. There was little room to think as his hand splayed across her back, spreading warmth throughout her body, and she smiled against his chest.
They swayed for hours on the dance floor, only pausing to wave the newlyweds off, and then she had stepped into his arms again like it was the most natural place in the world to be. Neither of them spoke much, just held each other in a way they both wanted to be held, but had been too scared to give any indication to it. He breathed in the scent of her hair, that after all these years still had the scent of cherries, and she buried her nose in the lapel of his jacket intoxicated by the spicy scent of him.
Eventually, without more than a few words being uttered, they had walked out of the wedding reception together, their arms brushing against the other's as they didn't stray far from the other. As they walked down the street her hand subconsciously twitched, and his hand was in hers. Neither of them commented on it.
In the taxi she told the driver her address, and he sat beside her and looked into her eyes. He wondered as his eyes swept across her face in search for any hesitation or reluctance, if she would regret this in the morning. He wondered if he was pushing too soon, and if he would lose his chance with her because of this. Still, the magnet that had kept them together all these years grew stronger, and she tilted her head up to his, and her eyes settled on his lips.
She felt soft against him. The angles and toughness melted away as she relaxed into him, and pulled at the hair on his back of his head to crush him into her. She tasted of the champagne and the fruity drinks that had been served at the bar, and the sweet taste of her made him push his tongue into her mouth and against hers. The tightness of her dress allowed little movement, but she hitched her leg over his as he cradled her face delicately in his hand.
When the taxi stopped they broke apart, and the chill of the late night January air filled up the space between them, but he had kept her in a stare that she could not refuse. It warmed her to the bone, and the thought of going up to her apartment by herself felt wrong. She thought of her bed, and how she knew that she would reach across the empty sheets and feel the vacant spot in her bed like a second bullet to her heart, and she could not do it. The looks he gave her kept her fantasies alive, but tonight she needed more than imagination.
There was no urgency when she slipped the key into her lock. He watched her with a heated gaze that blazed her skin, but stepped inside quietly behind her and allowed her to close the door before he stepped up to her again. He invaded her space, looked into her eyes, and then he kissed her lips and there was a weakness in her knees, but he kept her standing by crushing her into him as he walked through her apartment with her.
Her sheets had longed for him, and as he lowered her onto her bed the whole world breathed a sigh of relief. The zipper of her dress opened, and he pushed the dress up and up and up until she was lying under him in just her underwear. He kissed her jaw, and licked at her collarbone, and his hands painted a masterpiece along her torso, her hips, her thighs and her breasts. She held onto his shirt, and pushed up against him, pulling on his shirt as his clothes fell off of his body.
He kissed her body, and pulled down her underwear slowly and deliberately, and parted her legs with a tenderness that made her squeeze her eyes shut. He kissed her, his tongue working magic between her legs, and she whispered obscenities as she clutched the hair at the top of his head. There was magic in the air, and her own breathing echoed in her ears as he brought her to the brink and pushed her over. He smirked at how loud she was when she fell apart, because he had always known that he could make her scream.
The stillness that surrounded them as he pushed into her, filling her and all the parts of her soul that had been waiting just for him, made the world outside her bedroom disappear. There was no frenzy, only him pushing into her with a slow and steady pace. They kissed like lovers do, slowly and deliberately sending messages of love with each way their bodies touched. She held onto him, and ran his hand down her body, through her hair. He interlaced their fingers and just wished that this moment could last forever.
They fell asleep curled up against the other, her legs wrapped protectively around him as she rested her head on his chest.
Morning came with a jarring dose of reality. She woke before he did, and as she watched him sleep she knew that her wall was still there. This was a mistake. When he woke up he would peer down at her, and there would be an expectation that she would not be able to live up to. All her life had been about her mother's murder, and she wanted a life beyond it, but she was not ready to leap.
Before he woke up she slipped out of bed and put on clothes. A barrier that would prevent her from giving him more false hope than she had already given him. She made coffee for the two of them, raided her fridge for breakfast, and tried to think of a way to let him down gently. One day there could be more between them, but that one day wasn't today.
When he woke up he exited her bedroom with only his dress pants from last night on, and his hair was sticking up in all directions after how she had pulled at it the night before. She blushed at the sight of him, and hid her face in the cup of coffee.
Somehow he caught on. The tension between them was different than it usually was. Now it was laced with regret, and she didn't want to look at him, and when she did look at him it was with weary eyes that didn't look happy about what had transpired between them in the late Sunday night. There was no need to say anything, but still she pressed a look… and a I'm just not ready yet, not right now, I want to be so bad Castle… He looked at her with a face that was trying to lock all of the hurt inside, but she could see every though plastered across it. What she wanted to do was to run her hand along his cheek, and kiss every furrow and every part of his face that showed sadness until he was happy again.
But she couldn't.
I get it Beckett. He didn't, she knew he didn't get it. There was so much he didn't get because she didn't know how to tell him, show him. I don't mean forever Castle…
It's okay. He had said in a voice that made it clear that nothing was okay. I need space Kate. That he said her first name made it all that much harder not to leap across her kitchen and throw herself into his arms.
But she couldn't.
She didn't think that he would come the next time she called him about a body drop, but he did. The awkwardness that stretched between the two of them was palpable to everyone, but Lanie was the only one who commented on it to Beckett, and was promptly waved off by the detective. Nothing was wrong, nothing had happened, everything was alright. Yet when he sat beside her in his chair for the following two weeks there was as if a new wall had been raised between them, and she didn't know how to crush it. Then she found that with each smile she sent his way, and the more they fell back into their routine, a brick would fall down. The awkwardness disappeared, and they pretended that they didn't know the way the other gasped, that they didn't know the taste of the other. That was the only way they could move on.
Then she felt the nausea. An ever present nausea that peaked to near unbearable heights at the smell of Kay Cappuccio's perfume, and the heightened smell which forced her to clean out her fridge for the first time in a much to long time, or she would have to spend every morning crouched over the toilet. There was no need to consult a doctor, or do a web search. Her breast ached, she was too tired for the amount of rest that she was getting, and her period was late.
A plus on a pregnancy test was the last thing she needed, but exactly what she got. It was 6am in the morning, and instead of curling her hair, doing her makeup, or getting dressed, she sat on the lid of the toilet and stared at the test. There had been a vague dream of children in her life, of a husband and a child which they would raise together, but she had always thought she would have more time before it happened. 32 was an age many people had children, but she still felt too unprepared for a task like this.
That morning she arrived to the office late, and Castle was already waiting for her with a cup of coffee in his hand, and she knew she should've told him then. Something stopped her. It would change it all, and she knew that when she told him this then everything would change everything in ways she would never be able to predict. As long as he did not know the longer things would stay as they were. She planned on telling him soon, but there was always something that had to be done first.
First it was the doctor with the warm smile but worried words. The shooting just eight months before was a concern, and he wanted her on desk-duty to minimize the risks. There would be more doctor's appointments than usual, more monitoring, and a higher risk of miscarriage. So she didn't tell him, because if she miscarried then there was no point in him knowing. It would only hurt him. Protecting him was her job.
Gates was the first one she told, her eyes firmly planted on the floor as she informed the Captain of why she needed to be taken out of the field immediately. Only secured crime scenes, and interrogations were appropriate spaces for her to work now. The Captain understood who the father was, and Beckett smiled in relief when the woman did not ask. Gates assured her that she wouldn't tell anyone, and as far as everyone else was concerned it was about a doctor being worried about her heart. It was a partial lie.
There were many times she thought about telling him. When she heard the heartbeat she wanted to call him and spill it all out, but when he picked up she pretended that she was calling about the case instead. Each time she thought she had the courage to tell him it all fell to pieces, and each time she didn't tell him it got harder to.
Thirteen weeks. She gave herself the deadline that she would tell him once she was in the third trimester. The risk for miscarriage was lower, and she could start showing then. Maybe he was suspicious, since she only drank one coffee a day now, and went to the bathroom four times in an hour, but he never said anything.
Then after the bomb he pulled away. He disappeared in a way he hadn't done before. She had practiced all morning on how she would tell him, how she would explain not telling him, and it all fell to pieces. The woman on his arm wasn't her, and the way he pranced around with her hit her like a truck in her gut. There were few times she had thrown up during the pregnancy, but when he walked off with the woman and looked exactly like the douchebag bachelor he was when she met him she had hurried off to the bathroom and emptied her stomach. It was very possible that she had missed her shot, and that whatever could've been between them, and whatever they could've had was forever lost.
She told Lanie over the untouched glass of wine the woman had poured her that evening. Beckett had glanced at the deep red liquid and felt the band that kept it all inside snap, and an I'm pregnant spilled out of her mouth like a breath of relief. The secret finally out there in the world, not just something that she and Gates knew. The statement was easily followed by an it's Castle's and he doesn't even know… and the nauseating it happened at Ryan's wedding, I'm already 13 weeks Lanie.
Her friend was the voice of reason which Beckett sought when her own mind was spinning, and she needed grounding. Lanie touched her friend's shoulder, and held Beckett's gaze steady with her own as she said the words Beckett had waited to hear for a long time Tell him now, he needs to know.
There was a risk that he was not alone when she came over. That someone else would be there in his bed, but she had to take that risk before she chickened out. His apartment wasn't a strange place to her. She had even lived there for a short period of time.
Her body sagged when he opened the door wearing pajamas and noted the early hour of the day, but still let her in as his eyes worriedly scanned her tired face. There was something behind her eyes which he knew he needed to be silent to be privy to.
With his hand held in hers she led him to his couch and curled up on it next to him, squeezing his hand tight as she tried to will everything to go back to normal. Nothing changed. One look into his confused expecting eyes and she knew she was wrong. Before her was a man that had been a father for 18 years, and she knew she was lucky that it was with him she would get to experience this with. Holding onto that thought she opened her mouth.
"I'm pregnant, Castle," she said, and his face froze. "It's yours."
She knew that soon she would have to explain why she kept it from him for so long, but in that moment a grin spread on his face, wide and toothy, and he leaned over her and kissed her.
That was when she knew that with Castle she hadn't just found a partner, but a family.