Ultimatum - Final Chapter


Columbus Circle is filled with white tented booths and strung with white Christmas lights along the walkways. They buy cider and hot chocolate for the little one, first thing, to prevent her whining for other sweets, and they let Elle go ahead of them down the path so she can come upon each delight as if it were her own discovery. She's too needy to wander off, too much with them to get lost in her own head.

Not that Kate doesn't pay strict and sometimes almost paranoid attention to exactly where her daughter is. Repercussions, ripples in their pond from that one stone, so many years ago, her mother's murder.

But the petting zoo is just as she remembers it from last year, though clearly Elle doesn't. She runs right up to the ropes and marvels, bouncing on her toes as she sees the reindeer and baby goats and the huge tortoise in his warmed box. "Mommy, Mommy-"

"I see."

"Goats!"

Forget the reindeer, this girl loves goats.

Castle is chuckling as he pays for their tickets, and they take Ellie by the hand to move through the roped-off line. The reindeer will be last, it seems, but Elle coos over the baby goats the moment they come close, feeding them from her hand the pellets Castle has bought.

The goats love her back. One of the handlers allows their group of about six to wander inside the goat pen with their sweaty fists of pellets, and the parents hang back near the gate to watch and take pictures on their phones. Castle too, of course; he can't seem to stop grinning like a fool. Elle is on her knees, her white tights pricked with hay, petting a black baby goat with one hand while the animal scarfs pellets out of her palm. Even when she has no more food, the baby stays right with her, bumping into her shoulder and rubbing his face against hers like a cat.

Castle caves and goes to the center kiosk for a bigger bag of pellets, while Kate just shakes her head at him. At least with a second they'll have to stop spoiling Elle; less of this constant attention will be a good thing. She'll be forced to share.

When Ellie gets the second bag, she throws her arms around Castle's neck and squeals her gratefulness in his ear - which Kate can hear all the way to the gate. It's hard to say no to a kid who is so thoroughly kind, inside and out, to everyone she meets. In fact, as Castle turns to head back for the gate, Kate sees Ellie offer up the bag to a boy a few years older than her who is standing wistfully to one side. The boy takes a handful and beams at her, his two front teeth missing, and speaks in a language Kate doesn't recognize.

But that doesn't seem to stop Elle. She carries on a conversation with the boy and goat both, and Kate nudges Castle to turn and look when he approaches the gate.

His pride as he watches their daughter share is more humble than Kate would expect. She takes him by the elbow and leans into him, slides her hand down to tangle their fingers. "You okay? The court room really took it out of you, huh."

"Yeah." He has a death grip on her fingers. "I had to relive... explain to the jury that you were pregnant with that bright little thing, how constantly terrified I was that I'd be too late. How I kept... imagining I'd save you only to lose her. Or worse, lose you both."

Kate lets out a rough breath, knocks her chin into his shoulder turning into him. "You didn't though. Lose her. Or me. We didn't lose this. You weren't too late."

"I killed a man to be certain of that, of this," he says quietly. His eyes find hers, and she's momentarily troubled by how calm his are. And then she realizes he's forcing himself to find peace - for their sake, for the sake of their family now. "I did that, and I won't ask myself hypothetical questions about would I do it again, should I have just driven off, no. It's done. And we have our baby elephant-"

"Not such a baby anymore," she chides, smiling. "Almost four."

"In January," he sighs. His eyes are clear, his face set into those lines of happiness. "If you can see your way clear of January to celebrate birthdays with our girl, I can put that day on the bridge behind me as well. Celebrate what we have."

"Good," she breathes, almost too much to hope for. "Just like that?"

"Yes."

"Okay," she says, a promise to believe him. And to send him back to the therapist.

"Mommy!" Elle calls out, running up to squirm between them. Kate looks down and finds that upturned face, the curiously brimming green eyes. "Mommy, can we have a baby goat?"

"No, honey, there's no room in our loft for a goat," she says, smoothing down Elle's hair. "But you can love on the baby goats here and-"

"No, I mean in your tummy." Elle puts her ear to Kate's stomach and clutches at her. "I can hear him! He's going ba-ba-ba!"

"That's a sheep," Castle corrects.

"I don't want a dumb lamb."

"We're not having a sheep!" Kate laughs. "And anyway who says we're having anything at all?"

"Daddy did. He said a baby. Can't it be a baby goat? I want a baby goat, puh-lease?"

"Oh my God," she mutters, shaking her head.

"Please, just a little one like Humphrey over there, please, he doesn't even have to be black though I like the black ones best-"

"Castle, I'm gonna kill you."

But Rick is laughing as he bends down and scoops up their daughter, wrestling her into a hold against his chest. "No baby goats, that's not what human beings have babies of."

"What do they have? I don't want a sheep-"

"No, silly girl, they have baby humans," Castle explains, chuckling as he shifts her onto one arm. "Mommy is going to have a baby human."

Elle's nose wrinkles and she inspects Kate like she's a putrid dead fish. "Ew. Mommy. Why would you do that?"

"Dad did that," she deadpans.

"Daddy," Elle scolds, crossing her arms. "It better not be a baby girl. There are too many already."

"Ah, jealous of Alexis again," Castle hums, kissing her cheeks. "You know you love your sister. Even if she's in Paris living your dream."

"She's in Greece right now," Elle scoffs. "And she has baby goats all over the place."

Kate laughs, unable to help it, and threads her arm through Castle's. She tugs down Elle's sweater. "We'll have to go visit Alexis in Greece so that you can have some quality time with the goats before this baby comes. How about that?"

"Deal," Elle says heartily. And squirms to get back to the goats.

"Hey," Castle calls after her, "what about the reindeer?"

"Bor-ing," Elle calls back. "They don't fly. They're not magic; they're just ordinary dumb reindeer."

"Hey, whoa, yes they do. They're-"

"Daddy," she says in a huff, putting her hands on her hips and turning back to deal with him. "Shh, there are littles here. They don't know." She makes an exaggerated gesture to the boy she shared her goat pellets with - a boy clearly double her age - and then she darts away for the baby goats.

"Oh my God, she's you," Castle breathes.

"Hey," she cries, smacking his arm. "She only thinks these aren't Santa's reindeer, you melodramatic idiot. She told me that on the way here. The elves and the reindeer and even the Santa-" She lowers her voice and glances around to be sure the little kids really won't overhear. "She said even their costumed Santa - they're not the real ones. They just play the real ones like Gram does on Broadway-"

Castle snorts. "My mother managed to convince her she's on Broadway, so I suppose she's more gullible than I thought."

Kate chuckles. "I told her they were actors, yes, because it was an honor to play Santa and his elves. And she agreed."

"Oh," he sighs, a hand to his heart. "The magic is safe."

She rubs his back over the coat, willing to go along with his melodrama. He's had a long - well, four years. "Magic is always safe with you, Rick. Even when she figures out about Santa, you'll make sure she believes in magic." She lifts on her toes and kisses his lips. "You always manage it. I don't know how, but the magic is safe with you."

She sees his throat work and his eyes graze her, tender and loving and absolute mush. He cups the side of her face and shakes his head. He starts and stops a dozen different times, then finally clears his throat and says, "How's the goat?"

"What?"

He touches her stomach, trailing sensation between them. "The baby goat." His eyebrows dance. "Everything good? I didn't ask before."

She groans and grabs him by the wrist. "You are not calling it a goat."

"I think I just did."

She narrows her eyes. "Then you are most definitely not naming him after a goat like you did Elle."

"I named her after an elephant, not a goat."

"You know what I mean."

"I bet I could make it work. I wonder what goat is in Greek-"

"If you do, I will cheerfully strangle you in your sleep."

But he's already on his phone looking it up, and she has to admit-

No. No, she's admitting nothing. She's not naming this baby after a goat just because she gets emotional when he nicknames the belly.

"Mega," he laughs. "Oh, Cheever-"

"No," she insists, grabbing the phone out of his hands. "Stick to Christmas special. Go help your daughter hand out the last of her bag of pellets. Do not search for goat names."

"We could just call it lamb, you know separate the goats from the sheep-"

She groans. "Castle," she says, jabbing a finger at him. "Go."

"Oh, go. That's close to goat."

She shoves on him and he stumbles away.

He snags his phone from her, eyebrows dancing, comedy in his features. "Didn't mean to get your goat."

She wants to give him the finger, but the truth is she'll take the stupid puns, the snickering. It's been a hard few months, and every good memory they have of their first pregnancy is nuanced by what happened. When Elle came into the world, it was perilously close to Johanna's death day anniversary. Every time she cried, they rushed to hold her, reassure themselves the horror hasn't touch their baby.

They've needed this closure, and their new life - this addition to their family, goat or no - is perfect timing.

And perfect completion.

Near the center kiosk where the handlers are, Castle is trying to lure Elle towards the reindeer, making no-doubt-outrageous promises to pique her interest.

Kate presses a hand to her stomach. "This'll be your world, baby g. See what you can make of it."

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