Four Saturdays (3/5)

The Second

The following Tuesday, Kate found herself leaning against an autopsy table, watching as Lanie lifted prints from their latest vic.

"Where's you shadow?" Lanie asked.

"I sent him off with Castle Jr," she said, referring to Ryan. "As if one Castle spinning crazy theories wasn't enough."

"So," Lanie cast her a knowing glance, "what did you need to talk about?"

"Why would you think I needed to talk about anything?"

"Because you didn't bring Castle with you."

Kate sighed, and lifted herself up to sit on the autopsy table behind her.

Her eyes followed Lanie as she carefully pulled a print from the body.

"I had a great time on Saturday," she finally said.

Lanie looked up at her, brows furrowed. "Why do you sound so guilty saying it, girl? That's a good thing," she said in her patented tone of incredulity.

"I thought he'd get bored." A massive burden was lifted as she confessed the truth.

"He's been following you around for how long?" Lanie's tone was filled with disbelief. "How could you possibly think he'd get bored?"

"For starters: there was no murder to investigate. And, well," Kate winced in anticipation of Lanie's reaction. "I was kind of annoyed with him for telling everything with a pulse that we were spending the day together-"

"And heaven forbid anyone actually be excited about spending a day off with you," Lanie rolled her eyes.

"As I was saying," Kate said, more than eager to avoid Lanie's sarcasm, "I was a bit ticked so I decided to follow through with what I'd actually planned for last Saturday morning, before Castle blindsided me with his birthday request."

Lanie cocked an eyebrow in question.

"Browsed vintage stores..." she hesitated at the look on Lanie's face before forging ahead, "...maybe went to a few secondhand shops."

"Oh good lord, Kate Beckett," Lanie rolled her eyes. "You sure do know how to make them work for it."

"I had a great afternoon planned when I suggested it," Kate defended. "To make up for the morning. Besides, Castle did say to do what I normally would."

"And we all know Castle is the voice of reason."

"The point is," Kate continued, "I had a great time. A really great time," she let her mind wander back to last Saturday and found herself sighing. Like such a girl. "I didn't think it would go so … well."

She looked up to find Lanie wearing a wide, smug grin.

"From what I hear," Lanie said, "Saturday Number One went really well for writer-boy, too."

"From what you hear?" Kate repeated.

"You forget, I have Little Castle working for me," Lanie reminded her. "Not only is she an incredibly dedicated and capable intern, she is a motormouth when it comes to her personal life. I can't tell you how refreshing it is to talk to someone who talks back."

"All three Castles," she said to Lanie with a smile, amused and endeared as-always with the Castle family, "such big gossips."

Lanie laughed. "Big gossips, with big hearts."

"The biggest," she agreed with a sigh. "Big, wide open hearts."

"So what has you sounding so conflicted?" her friend asked.

"I was supposed to be working this Saturday and have the next one off," Kate began, "but Karpowski asked me to trade because of her nephew's birthday. And this Saturday is …" Kate trailed off.

"What?" Lanie was smiling expectantly, no doubt at Kate's uncharacteristic hesitance.

"My mom's birthday."

Lanie's smile fell away. "Oh."

"Yeah," Kate nodded. "It's not a big deal," she said, even though it was one to her. "I usually just go pay her a visit in the morning, if I'm working the day, and leave her fresh flowers."

"You can still do that," Lanie said gently, she came to stand in front of Kate.

"I know. It's just, his rule is that I have to spend the entire Saturday with him."

"I'm sure he'll understand."

"Four years ago," she said, "If I'd had the day off on Mom's birthday, I would have visited her in the morning, spent the day going over old pictures, and dragged Dad out for dinner."

"And now?"

"I wouldn't mind spending the day with ... him."

Lanie's eyes held nothing but tenderness. "That's good, honey. It's progress."

Kate nodded. Her therapist said the same. And yet...

"I can't help but feel I'm letting her down. By moving on," she tried to explain. By opening her heart to someone else. By letting Castle take up the space that had only ever been committed to one other person for over a decade. All these things she couldn't quite say out loud just yet.

"You know, Lanie," Kate began ruefully, "sometimes, I wish I'd never met him." At Lanie's raised eyebrows, she shrugged. "And other times, I don't know how I got by without him."

Lanie pulled herself up on the examination table next to Kate. She slipped her arm through Beckett's.

"I know the feeling, sweetie."

They sat in silence for a moment.

"What are you going to do?" Lanie asked.

"I don't know." Kate shrugged. "But I have the rest of the week to figure it out.'

Friday morning, Castle was preparing a fresh round of drinks at the espresso machine when Kate entered the break room.

"Hey," he greeted her with a smile. She was wearing his favourite jeans today, and that just put him in an overall good mood. Not to mention he'd be spending the entire day with her tomorrow. "One steaming hot cup of coffee coming right your way."

"About this Saturday," she began. And then stopped.

"Yeah?" he asked, his attention focused on making her coffee. "What about it? I can be at your place at 9AM, like last time." Ungodly hour though it was, he didn't want to give her any excuse to cheat him of his Saturdays with her.

"Right. About that." She stuttered, which made him turn to centre his entire attention on her. She sounded … nervous. "Can I maybe meet with you in the afternoon?"

Castle stilled. That was unexpected. He thought they'd had a great time the last Saturday they'd spent together. They'd even made progress, what with the conversation they'd had in the Batman exhibit.

"Saturdays mean entire days, Beckett," he went for teasing to mask his confusion. "Don't try and weasel your way out of our deal. We shook on it," he reminded her with a playful frown.

She was studying him, he realized. He got the distinct impression she was evaluating his fitness for some task.

"What?" he asked, worried.

"The thing is, I was going to visit my mom on Saturday morning."

"Oh." And now he felt like an ass. "I'm sorry," he said, and it sounded lame and pitiful to his own ears.

"No, no, don't apologize," she was quick to cut him off. She took a breath, her lip tugged between her teeth. "I think maybe … maybe you could come along?"

"I could?" He squeaked, and then mentally kicked himself for being so uncool about this. But for real, she was asking him to come along?

"Yeah," she nodded decisively. "You should."

He stared at her, even as he told himself not to stare at her.

"If you come by my place at nine," she said, "we can go to the cemetery and then maybe get breakfast?"

"Of course," he nodded quickly. "Definitely. I'll be there. Of course." He forced himself to shut up.

With another decisive nod - she was trying to convince herself of something, maybe that this was a good idea? - she exited the breakroom.

He stared after her for a moment, so thrown by what had just happened that he barely even paid any attention to how beautifully his favourite jeans hugged her from behind.

And then, as he went back to making her coffee, a slow smile unfurled. It began in his eyes and ended in his heart. That smile, and the bounce in his step, kept him company well into the next morning when he showed up at her door with two bouquets in hand - one for Johanna Beckett, and one for her daughter.

"These are for your mom," he said, showing her a large arrangement of white daisies and bright yellow lilies.

She just about melted at the sight of them.

"And these," he pulled the second bouquet from behind his back, "are for you." He grinned. It was the most colourful arrangement the florist could put together. All pinks and oranges and yellows and purples.

"You got me flowers?" Her brow crinkled in confusion as she took his offering. But he could see the pleasure in her eyes, the slight smile curling the corners of her mouth.

"I was at the flower shop, getting your mom flowers, and..." He shrugged, as though it was no big deal. Really, he just wanted to give her something to say how much it meant to him that she'd invited him along. And he liked getting her flowers. The idea of something he'd given her brightening up her apartment...

"Thanks, Rick." She smiled, and it felt like buying her flowers was the best thing he'd ever done.

"When you're ready," he tried to play it cool, because a fist-pump would not be appropriate at the moment, "I have a cab waiting."

A half hour later, he stood next to Beckett as she knelt to place the bouquet of lilies and daisies by her mother's tombstone. It was a gorgeous day out, warm and sunny without a cloud in sight. Much like the last time he'd been in a cemetery with her-

Castle abruptly shook off the thought, focused instead on Kate who was now standing next to him. Healthy and whole.

He was just about regaining his equanimity when he heard her whisper, "happy birthday, mom."

Maybe, he thought as his heart cracked, this wasn't such a good idea. He wanted to be strong, he did. He reminded himself of how happy and unburdened she'd been last Saturday, and clung to the memory. He wanted her to be happy; deeply and simply happy.

"She would've turned 60 today," Kate murmured quietly. "I can't imagine her being that … old." He wasn't sure if she was addressing him or not. And then, to his surprise, she said: "my mom loved cake."

He turned to look at Kate, and found her eyes sparkling with amusement. It was infectious; he couldn't help but smile.

"She had a sweet tooth unlike anybody I've ever known. Dad would get her an extravagant cake every year for her birthday, until I turned 15 and decided that I would make her the most out-of-this-world cake she had ever set eyes on." She grinned. "It was an unmitigated disaster."

Castle's own smile widened. It was hard picturing Kate being an unmitigated disaster at anything.

"The cake caved in," she went on, "I didn't grease the cake tin properly so the sides practically fell away when I took out the cake. The frosting was too hard to spread evenly or smoothly."

"It was terrible," she continued, "I was so upset. My dad kept telling me that it was just perfect. Poor guy. I think he was trying to make me feel better. We presented the cake to mom with great fanfare when she came home from work that evening. Castle, you should have seen her face," her smile was bright, eyes softened by the memory. "It was probably the worst thing to ever come out of an oven, but she was just so happy. Of course," here she shot him a rueful, laughing grin, "that didn't stop her from teasing me about how terrible it looked. Every birthday after that, she'd remind me of that awful cake I'd baked for her."

As often happened when he least expected, it punched him right in the solar plexus just how he loved her: with a staggering ferocity; with a humbling strength.

"So of course I had to prove myself. The perils of being a perfectionist. I can now bake with the best of them." The smile in her voice faded. A slight shadow fell over her as she looked at her mother's resting place. "I was going to bake her a chocolate fudge cake with strawberries for her 47th birthday," Kate said. "I had it all planned out," she sighed. "Wasn't meant to be."

He watched her slowly curl into her hidden nook of grief.

"You know," he told her in a low, secretive voice, as though letting her in on a big secret, "I'm still not sure how old my mother really is."

A surprised laugh escaped her lips, unbidden, at the unexpected comment. It was the reaction he'd been aiming for.

"It's a beautiful memory, Kate," he said sincerely. He turned his head to look at her, getting caught up in the tender green of her eyes. "I'm glad to share it with you."

She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and nudged his arm with her shoulder. "Thanks, Castle."

Thank you, he wanted to say, but she was leaning against him like it was the most natural thing in the world and the words got stuck in his throat.

Castle ushered Kate into his loft, shutting the door behind them with a bump of his hip. His hands were occupied with carrying a gigantic cake box. After hearing Kate's story about her mother's implacable sweet tooth, he'd insisted on taking her to the best bakery in town and buying the most elaborate cake they had on display.

He hadn't been able to help himself.

"There's no way we're going to be able to finish that," Kate told him, eyeing the box in his hands.

"Challenge accepted," he replied with a wide grin.

"Hi, Detective Beckett," Alexis greeted merrily, jumping up from the couch in the living room to take Kate's coat.

"Hi, Alexis," Kate smiled widely at his daughter. "You have a rare day off today, too, huh?"

She nodded in reply. "I am officially a hermit for the weekend." Her glance flicked to the cake box in Castle's hands. "What's that?"

"Today," said Rick, "is Kate's mom's birthday. And we celebrate," he lifted the lid of the box in a theatrical display, "with cake."

"Wow, that looks amazing," said Alexis as she peered into the box. She turned to Beckett with a sudden excitement, "I have candles! We can sing her happy birthday!"

Before Kate could reply, Alexis was already off to rummage for candles. Castle watched Beckett. She looked … maybe a bit overwhelmed. And sad. And … uncomfortable?

"Is this too much?" he asked quietly. He had to remind himself at times not to get ahead of himself.

"What?" she turned to look at him, snapping out of whatever thoughts were occupying her mind. "No. No, it's not." She hesitated. "This is … good."

He decided to take her word for it. "Come on." He led her towards the kitchen, where he set the box on the counter. "Cake time."

A half hour later, the two Castles and one Beckett sat on the couch in the living room, stomachs pleasantly sated with cake.

"That was incredible," said Castle.

Beckett nodded in agreement. "It was."

"Do you remember that cake you got for my eighth birthday?" Alexis asked Castle.

"Do I remember?" he exclaimed. "How could I forget! It was epic."

"I had a serious thing for wizards at the time," Alexis explained to Kate. "So for my eighth birthday, Dad got me a cake as tall as me, shaped like a wizard. With a hat and everything! I was the envy of the school for years afterwards."

"We spent all weekend sending slices of cakes to the neighbours in this building and, eventually, the building next door." Castle grinned. "The folks in the building next door still stop me on the street to remind me of it."

"I think that's my favourite birthday memory," Alexis said. Castle threw an arm over her shoulder and pulled her close.

"The look on your face when they wheeled the cake in was priceless." He smiled warmly at his daughter. "My favourite memory would have to be from when I turned six. Mother was acting in a Rocky Horror Show production here in New York. She had the entire cast, in full costume, sing me the most terrifying rendition of happy birthday ever conceived. It. Was. Awesome." He grinned at Kate.

Alexis leaned over him to look at Kate. "What's yours?" she asked.

"Hm," Kate gave it some thought. "It would have to be my sixteenth. My parents surprised me with a trip to Venice for just me and my mom. We had a week to ourselves, exploring a gorgeous city, rich with history. It was the first time we traveled together, just the two of us."

"Sounds amazing," said Alexis. "I've never been."

"It's a place you have to see, at least once." Kate smiled, but there was that leaden melancholy to her tone which Castle had caught on and off in her during the morning.

"I visited Venice once," he said. "I may have tried to commandeer a gondola after consuming a bit too much grappa."

Alexis and Kate rolled their eyes almost in tandem, much to his amusement.

"Is there a country in which you don't have a rap sheet?" Kate asked.

"I can't answer that," he replied. "There are impressionable ears in the room."

That earned him another eye-roll from Alexis.

"My dad," said Alexis, "The overgrown child. At least it makes shopping for you easy," she said to him, before looking over at Kate. "One year, I got him laser tag equipment for his birthday. He was bouncing off the walls for weeks afterwards."

"Who wouldn't be!" Castle exclaimed with an exuberant grin. "I rule at laser tag," he informed Kate

"Really? The 12th has an annual paintball tournament during the summer," Kate said. "I'd invite you, but I don't know if you could handle yourself. After all, we are trained professionals. You just horse around in your living room."

The teasing in her tone was clear from a mile away. But that didn't stop him from defending his honour.

"I could totally handle myself," he said, sitting up straight on the couch. "I'll prove it: I could take you right now, in a game of laser tag."

"Oh, please," she dismissed him with an imperious wave of her hand.

"What, scared of losing to a civilian?" he goaded, the competitive fires now licking his veins. He was pumped.

"I don't lose," she replied.

He didn't doubt it. He couldn't help but remember her offer for them to go race laps, of all things. And her recent territoriality when other women showed an interest in him. The thought made him grin.

"Challenge accepted," he cocked an eyebrow. "Daughter," he declared, "let's bring out the gear and show the n00b here how it's done."

"Prepare to hurt," Kate replied, her eyes glinting appealingly.

"I'll get the vests," Alexis, already heading towards the study in a flurry of excitement and laughter. "I'll be right back, Detective Beckett."

"Call me Kate, Alexis," she called out after the girl's retreating figure. She bent down to remove her heels in preparation for battle. "If I'm going to kick your sorry butts at laser tag, we should at least be on a first-name basis."

"And you can call me Lord of Voltar," Castle informed Kate. "Ruler of the Omniverse."

"I am not calling you Ruler of the Omniverse," she rolled her eyes.

"Ruler of the Universe?"

"Nope."

"Galaxy."

"Not in a million years."

"Spoilsport," he pouted.

"At most you're at the helm of a declining empire."

"Oh, it's on," Castle challenged. "The forces of Voltar will conquer your resistance."

"The only thing that'll be conquered today is your peddling fiefdom."

"Wait," he said, appalled, "You're downgrading me from empire to fiefdom?"

"I'm with Kate on this," Alexis piped up. She re-entered the room, arms laden with laser tag gear. "Voltar is in undeniable decline."

"Hey," Castle interjected. "You're supposed to be on my side."

"What is that I hear?" Kate cocked an eyebrow at Castle before throwing Alexis a conspiratorial grin. "Could it be … fear?"

"Ha, you wish," Castle replied. "I can take both of you."

"Alright, children," Alexis cut in, "save it for the battlefield of honour." She handed Kate a vest. "Welcome to the rebel alliance," she said with mock solemnity.

"It's a privilege, Rebel Leader," Kate matched Alexis' tone. Alexis broke into a wide grin at Kate's response.

Castle couldn't keep his own punch-drunk happy smile off his face at seeing Kate play along with him and his daughter. But he still had his eye on the prize.

"If you two are done with your menial rituals," he said, adjusting his goggles and strapping on his vest, "I have an omniverse conquer."

An hour and a half later, Castle stood hidden behind a pillar, having the time of his life. During their game, Kate had laughed harder than he'd ever seen, she and Alexis planning out intricate tactics and giving each other high-fives with the muzzles of their laser tag guns whenever one of their schemes worked. Kate had also - to his eternal surprise and delight - completely immersed herself in the world he and Alexis had created through years of playing laser tag together. Although she still refused to call him Lord of Voltar, let alone Ruler of the Omniverse.

And now the score was tied three-all. This last battle would determine the fate of the omniverse. The stakes had never been higher.

"You are no match for the rebel force!" Alexis called out from behind a pillar.

"Prepare to be vanquished, rebel scum!" he called back from behind his own cover.

"Never!" she cried. "Our forces are closing in!"

"What forces? Ha. Don't make me laugh," he vaulted from his pillar to the shelter offered by the couch. "You are no match for the superior forces of Voltar." Alexis remained behind the pillar, while Kate … Kate had been too quite for too long, he realized. Which only meant-

At that exact moment, Kate leaped out from the other side of the couch, rolling once on the floor before bracing herself on her knees, her gun aimed at him. She pulled the trigger before he could react, and his vest vibrated with a well-placed shot. He looked down at the blinking lights in dismay.

"Gotcha," she grinned at him from her semi-prone position on the hardwood.

"That's four for us and three for you," Alexis goaded him, coming over to give Kate a hand up.

He should have known that teaming up two insanely intelligent and driven individuals would not work in his favour. Kate and his daughter, he noted, shared a single-minded drive. And both applied it to destroying his chances of establishing dominion over the omniverse. Two peas in a pod, he thought ruefully as he watched them trade high fives.

"Perhaps I could entice one of you to join the forces of Voltar?" He asked, looking from one to other with hope.

"Not a chance, Castle," Kate said.

"Sure," Alexis replied at the same time.

They both looked at her in surprise.

"What?" she shrugged, turning to Kate with an expression of pure innocence. "Do I sense … fear?"

Kate laughed. "Turncoat," she teased, "you're going to regret going to the losing side." She turned to Castle. "Alright, it's Castles versus Beckett. Loser makes dinner."

Castle put an arm around Alexis' shoulder, pulling her to his side. "Then get ready to wear my 'kiss the cook' apron, Beckett."

Twenty minutes later...

"We've lost our family honour, Dad." Alexis informed him as she sliced carrots for a salad.

"Tell me about it," Castle agreed. He checked on the pasta. "She's freakishly skilled with a gun."

"You screamed like a girl," his daughter said, giving him a disappointed look.

"I didn't even see where she came from!" he defended. "She just popped out of nowhere." He placed a hand over his chest. "My heart is still pounding."

"Hey!" Kate called from living room, "less talking; more cooking. I'm starving here."

Castle shared a chagrined look with his daughter.

"Alexis," he said solemnly, "we are going to have to demand a rematch. We can't allow anyone to besmirch the Castle name. Well," he amended, "anyone except me and your grandmother."

"We should practice first," she said, glancing towards the couch Kate was comfortably nestled in. "Get some training in."

He nodded sagely as he followed her gaze. "Lots of training."