Attachment Syndrome


Chapter 4:

"Dad?"

"Hey, sorry, pumpkin," he whispers, watching as she descends the stairs. "Did I wake you?" He was trying so hard to be quiet too.

"No," she says, smiling at him. "You going out?"

"Beckett needs someone to watch Josie while she has her psych eval," he explains as he grabs a water bottle out of the fridge. "Why are you up?"

"Um, school?" she says, shaking her head as she moves around him to get a bowl for cereal. "Do you even know what day of the week it is?"

He pouts at her and runs a hand through his hair. Kate came back on a Thursday, they went to the pediatrician on Friday. Saturday and Sunday he spent writing and watching Johanne while Kate did research on the home study. Monday…

"Monday?"

Alexis laughs brightly. "It's Wednesday. God, I'm so glad you never gave me siblings."

He frowns. "Hey now."

She smiles and pats his arm, coming around to plop down on one of the stools, bowl of cereal in hand, her other already reaching for the paper. "You've been a bit out of it. How many nights have you spent at Beckett's?"

"Not—two maybe?"

"See, I think it was four."

"I'm sleeping on the couch," he says immediately.

Alexis raises an eyebrow. "I didn't ask."

He sighs and slumps down across from her. "I'm sorry, pumpkin. I haven't meant to get so…caught up in this. Let's have dinner tonight, just you and me."

She smiles and shakes her head. "I'm studying with Paige tonight. And it's fine, Dad. Really. I was busy all weekend, and I'm sure Beckett needs the help."

"If you're sure," he says, feeling sheepish. He has been out of it, and out of touch with his own kid, and that's never okay with him.

"I am. Maybe one night this week, I can babysit so you guys can go out." He gapes at her. "Or so Beckett can go out, and you can…go out separately? I mean, really, come on. You're helping with her baby. She broke up with her boyfriend. You practically spend all of your time together…"

"Okay, leaving now," he says, scowling as she laughs. "I'm just—"

"Helping out, I know," Alexis says, nodding patronizingly at him. How can she be so infuriating and so wise while wearing pink plaid pajamas? "Go. Don't make Beckett late."

(…)

"Thank you, Castle," Kate calls as she flits around the apartment, gathering her things one by one—wallet from the counter, keys from her desk, hair tie from the couch.

She's made definite progress overnight. There's a play area in the living room now. She set up the high chair they ordered the other day. She's got safety mechanisms on all the drawers, even though Johanne's nowhere near crawling yet. She's even got pictures of Johanne up on her fridge. She must have that great glossy paper in her printer.

He bounces Johanne a little, smiling as she coos. Not quite at him, but it's a positive sound all the same. "Do you like your new home, bug? Mommy's done a pretty great job, hasn't she?"

He settles onto the floor by the play mat and lay's Johanne down under the new mobile, full of all kind of shiny, plushie things for her to bat at with her little hands. "Lots of new toys, huh?" he sing-songs at her, lying down on his side so he can look up at the world with her.

"Castle?"

"Down here," he calls out, listening as she clicks her way back over to them.

"Whatch'a got there, sweetie?" Kate asks Johanne, sinking down to her knees to reach out and twirl one of the spiral pieces hanging down from the mobile. "You be a good girl for Castle."

"When isn't she?" he wonders, smiling at her.

"Three A.M. Not a happy baby," Kate admits, smoothing a hand over Johanne's head. "I should be back in a few hours. It shouldn't take that long, right?"

He meets her eyes and finds her more anxious than he anticipated. "No way," he agrees.

She rolls her eyes. "Bottle's in the fridge, and—"

"Beckett," he chides. "I put them in there yesterday, remember?"

"Right. Right," she mumbles. "Okay. I'll be back. Call if you need anything."

"Of course," he promises. "Get yourself a coffee or something," he adds as she stands up. "We'll be fine," he continues as she hesitates. "Go."

She nods and spins on her heel, walking quickly out of the apartment. He sighs and looks back at Johanne. "Your mommy has a big case of the first-time-mommies, doesn't she?"

Johanne glances at him, fists waving until one lands in her mouth. Her eyes light up and he laughs.

"Go coordination," he says lightly.

She smiles at him around her fist. Well, he thinks it's a smile, the corners of her mouth upturned, eyes lit up.

"Ooh, hold that thought, Josie," he says quickly, grinning at her. Her smile seems to widen in response.

He manages to wiggle his phone out of his back pocket and thumbs the screen blindly until he manages to get the camera up, still grinning at the smiling baby. He snaps a picture, and the phone makes a shutter click. Johanne's fist pops out of her mouth in shock and she stares at him, no longer smiling. She has such an accusatory little face when she tries.

He glances at the phone and grins. "You may not like me now, but I've got your smile for mommy. And she'll like me lots."

He laughs, pocketing his phone as the baby continues to glare at him. He'll get her smiling again. Maybe even laughing.

"Hey, look, who's that?" he asks, fingering the big mirror on the mobile. She has to learn what she looks like, Castle. "Who's that pretty girl, huh? Is that you?"

Johanne's eyes follow his fingers and he smiles as she peers up into the mirror, close enough for her to actually see her reflection.

"That's you. That's Josie."

She gurgles, legs kicking into the mat, fists flailing. He reaches out and tickles her belly and she snorts, something close to a laugh, he thinks.

"Yeah, that's you," he repeats.

She smiles again. Oh, he's so totally done for.

(…)

He hears the door open and abandons his place watching Josie sleep in her crib. Sitting on the floor. Staring at a sleeping baby. He is so smitten. Done. End of. Baby Beckett has his heart, and she's never giving it back.

But Big Beckett is back, and he wants to know how it went. That, and his back is absolutely killing him. He may be…what is he, really? Uncle Rick? Uncle Castle? Just Castle?

"Castle?" he hears, Kate's soft call wafting through to the bedroom.

He's her partner, and he doesn't want her to wake the baby.

"Hey," he whispers, walking out of her bedroom and shutting the door softly behind him. "How'd it go?"

"I'm fit to be a mother," she says with a tired smile. "Two hours and about a billion forms later, the State of New York has deemed me worthy."

"Awesome," he says, walking past her to start her coffee maker. "That's one down."

"One to go," she complete for him. "Inspection as soon as they can get someone over here. Hopefully tomorrow, they said."

"That soon?" he asks as he pours out the coffee grinds.

"They don't want this to go on for too long," she says as she sinks onto one of the stools. "They don't want her too comfortable with me, in case they have to take her."

"They won't," he says immediately.

"I hope not," she replies softly. He turns and finds her twisting her fingers on the countertop. "How was your morning?" she asks before he can say anything else.

"Good," he offers, going with it for now. He won't press; she's obviously worried enough as it is. "We looked at ourselves in the mirror, read a book, had a bottle."

Kate smiles as he turns on the coffee maker. "Sounds like a good morning."

"It was. Oh!" He pulls his phone out of his pocket and hurries around the counter to plop down beside her. She barely even gives him a look. "Here," he says, opening the photo.

Kate reaches out to hold the opposite side of his phone, leaning close to look at the picture. "Oh," she breathes out. "Look at that."

"Pretty great, huh?" he asks, beaming at the photo of her smiling daughter.

"Her first real smile," Kate whispers, running a finger over the picture. He hears the unsaid 'and I missed it,' and reaches with his free hand to squeeze her arm.

She looks over at him, startled, her face broken open. "Thank you," she says softly.

He smiles. "She's asleep. You wanna nap?"

"You just made coffee," she protests.

"Sleep when the baby sleeps, Beckett," he tells her solemnly.

"That's for new mothers," she chides, even as she passes back his phone and stands up.

"And what are you, exactly?" he asks. "I've got my laptop here. Go nap."

"I'm home now, Castle. You don't have to stay."

They stare at each other across the kitchen. "I just made coffee," he offers.

He should go home, really. But he doesn't want to. He can get just as much done here as he can at home, and here has the added benefit of Beckett and Johanne, and the picture of Kate Beckett stripping out of her blazer to reveal a plain cotton tee shirt. He likes being here.

"Okay. Can you toss her blankets into the washer then?" she asks, running a hand through her hair. "I'll just take a cat nap."

"Go," he says easily, already headed off to her washer off the office.

He feels her watching as he walks away. He spends a few minutes shoving the little baby blankets into the washer. He takes the time to spot treat two of the onesies before tossing them in as well. God, he'd forgotten just how much baby laundry builds up in the early months. He should think about getting her a more eco-friendly washer, cut down on her water bill.

He snorts to himself as he makes his way back through the office. She'd never let him do that. He's managed to dodge the 'let me pay you back,' conversation more than once, but a new washer might over do it.

He pauses by the desk, his eyes drawn to the open window shades—the bare open window shades. She took down her murder board.

He glances around and spots a box on the top of the bookshelf, inconspicuous and plain, but for the 'JB' sticker on the front. She took it down. He wouldn't have even thought about it.

He immediately wants to give her a hug, but settles for checking on her, and her daughter. When he gets to the bedroom, he finds the door to her room open. He peeks inside and smiles at the sight of her sacked out in her bed, still in her tee and slacks, face mashed into her pillow.

He closes the door quietly and heads for the couch, grabbing his laptop bag off the coffee table. He wonders idly how angry she'd be if Rook brought a baby back from a mission in the Philippines.

(…)

It's not a cat nap. He lets her sleep for four hours, getting up to feed Johanne and rock her back to sleep so Kate can stay passed out in bed. She'll probably be angry later, but he figures she'll forgive him when she realizes how good she feels.

He's halfway through "Castle's gonna buy you a mocking bird," when someone knocks on the door.

He glances down at the sleepy baby, then to Kate's room, then to the door. Huh. Well, stranger things have greeted visitors to this apartment he's sure.

He gets up and looks through the peep hole. A woman in a blazer and pencil skirt looks back at him, tapping her foot. An agent? Someone from the—oh, shit, no, they said tomorrow, right?

He opens the door cautiously.

"Hi, can I help you?" he asks softly, mindful of Johanne's efforts to sleep in his arms.

"I'm looking for a Katherine Beckett," the woman says, eyeing Johanne. "I'm Harper Kline, from Social Services. I believe…Detective—" she glances at her papers, "—Beckett was told she'd be having an inspection?"

"Right," he manages. Shit. "Let me go wake her."

"Wake her?" the woman repeats.

"I—" Does this look bad? "She fell asleep while Johanne here was napping, and I got to her before she woke back up. Midnight feedings, you know? They can take it out of you." He watches the woman, feeling jittery.

"Could you just go get Detective Beckett?" she says, impatient and obviously unimpressed by his rambling.

"Right," he mumbles. "I'll just—" he gestures over his shoulder and waves her in. "Give us a minute. There's coffee in the pot if you want some."

She rolls her eyes and he speeds to the bedroom. "We're in so much trouble, kid," he whispers to Johanne.

He opens the door and closes it quickly, taking a second to let his eyes adjust to the dim bedroom.

"Kate," he hisses, moving to her bedside and reaching out to touch her shoulder. "Kate, you have to get up."

He's unprepared for her abrupt response. She shoots up in bed, looking around muzzily, a hand raised in front of her, fingers poised—as if she were holding a gun. Wow.

"Kate," he repeats, a little stunned, but not badly enough to forget that Social Services is in the kitchen. "The inspector came."

"What?" she grunts, blinking at him.

"Social Services is here, and you're in bed. She was not pleased to see me."

"What are you talking about, Castle?" Kate demands, her voice scratchy. "What time is it?"

"About four," he says. "But come on, you have to get up."

"Why was I asleep?" she demands, shuffling out of bed to stand and run her hands through her hair.

"You were tired, I was here, Johanne didn't mind. She only woke up about an hour ago, and she's," he looks down at the baby, fast asleep against his shoulder, "she's asleep now anyway. But can you be mad at me later? Harper Kline is here and I don't think she likes me."

"Let me brush my teeth and I'll be right out," Kate says, holding up a hand. "Just…keep her occupied for like four minutes, okay? And don't—"

"Only accolades, cross my heart," he promises. She glares at him. "Okay, distract the social worker, got it."

She shakes her head and stumbles into the bathroom. He sighs as the door shuts. He can do this. He's a best-selling novelist. He is charming. And he has the cutest baby ever in his arms. They can do this.

"Okay, Josie. Time to turn on the charm."

He takes a deep breath and opens the bedroom door, walks back toward the kitchen. Harper Kline stands in the living room, turning in a circle, pen already scratching away on her clipboard. The woman oozes no-nonsense—sensible heels, a tight bun, and a face he figures once was kind. But now it's pinched, accentuating her pointed nose, and turning what could be a kind smile into a tight-lipped expression of judgment.

She turns her blue eyes on him, and he nearly steps back. This is not a woman he wants to cross. And she surely isn't the woman he wants in charge of the fate of Beckett's daughter.

He can do this.

"Ms. Kline," he says, his voice light. "Can I get you anything? Kate should be out in just a minute."

"She was notified of this appointment," she says, dismissing his offer.

"Actually," Castle hedges, stepping closer to join her in the living room. "She was told it would probably be tomorrow."

"Mm-hmm," she offers. How helpful. "And who are you, exactly?"

Castle startles, then immediately runs a hand over Johanne's back. "I'm Rick Castle. Kate's—"

"Partner," the woman in question supplies as she comes out of the bedroom.

He smiles at her, eying the flowing purple blouse she's changed into. You wouldn't have any idea she'd been drooling on her pillow a few minutes ago.

"You didn't list a relationship on any of your paperwork," Kline says testily.

"At the 12th Precinct," Kate corrects. "He's my partner at the 12th, in Homicide."

"Dangerous job," Kline observes as Kate reaches out for Johanne.

Castle passes her over easily, steadying them until he's sure Kate's got her settled. She flashes him a grateful smile.

"I suppose," Kate hedges, turning back to the woman. "I'm Kate Beckett, by the way."

She extends a hand but Kline ignores it. "Harper Kline. Mr. Castle tells me you weren't prepared for the inspection today."

"No," Castle jumps in as Kate opens her mouth. "That's not—"

"I was told it would be tomorrow," Kate cuts in. "But I'm prepared."

Kline eyes them as they stand there, Kate slightly in front of Castle, Johanne asleep on her shoulder.

"You're certainly set up," Kline agrees as she gestures to the apartment. "Toys, safety, supplies. May I look in the bedroom?"

"Of course," Kate says quickly, yanking Castle out of the way so Kline can walk past and into her bedroom. They stay in the living room. "Wow," Kate whispers.

"Right?"

"What did you tell her?" Kate demands.

"Nothing!" he argues, holding up his hands. "Seriously. I told her you were napping and that you had no idea she'd be coming today. That's all."

Kate nods and smoothes a hand over his arm in apology. "She's just—"

"Mean?" he whispers.

Kate nods and holds Johanne a little closer, kissing her head. He goes to say something comforting, though he's not quite sure what, but the woman marches back into the living room.

"I see you don't have a room for her," she announces.

"No," Kate agrees. "But when we get close to her needing one, I'll look for a new place."

"Moving a baby around can be traumatic for the child," Kline tsks.

Castle and Beckett exchange a look. "I'd do everything to minimize the stress for her."

"I can hire movers so she doesn't even have to be surrounded by boxes all the time," Castle adds. Kate gives him a look but he shrugs at her. "I can."

"And just what is your relation to the baby, Mr. Castle?"

"I told you," Kate says slowly. "He's my Partner at the 12th. He's just been helping out since I brought her back. I had a lot to do, you understand."

"I have a daughter," Castle adds. "She's seventeen now, but I did the single Dad thing. I've just been helping out, honestly. I'm not—"

"He's been very helpful," Kate says. "And Johanne is very comfortable with him."

"And when he stops helping out? Starts seeing someone on Page 6? Or will that not be an issue?" Kline asks, looking pointedly between them.

"We're not," Kate starts, then shuts her mouth. "Castle is a good man. I hardly think he'd stop spending time with my daughter just because he was in a relationship."

"Thank you," he says, earning a slight smile from Kate. "I'll second that."

"Introducing people into an infant's life, when they're unlikely to stick around can be detrimental," Kline continues, as if she hadn't heard them. "I'm always concerned to see a relationship without commitment with a baby in the middle."

"Without—" Kate stammers. "We're not dating."

"Even so," the woman says, shrugging and scribbling on her pad.

"I'm committed," Castle says quietly. Both woman look at him. "She's my partner, and my best friend, and frankly, one of the most extraordinary people I've ever met. If your one hang up is me being involved with setting up this new life they're starting, it's a non-issue. I've never met a better person," he adds. "And I'm not going to throw that away for some big-busted woman or a fancy party. If you haven't noticed, I haven't even been in the paper since the end of my last relationship, six months ago."

He feels Kate stiffen beside him, but ignores it, choosing instead to meet Harper Kline's eyes. He's not about to let her take Johanne away because he has a public past.

"But I don't think I'm really the issue. And if I am, I'll have to report you," he continues. He's not quite sure to whom, but he'll figure it out.

"Castle!" Kate hisses.

"What? She's making things up, Beckett," he protests.

"Beckett?" Kline cuts in, looking no more convinced for his speech, and completely unaffected by his threat.

"I," he says, glancing at Kate. "Force of habit."

"Because it's what you call her when both of you are at the Precinct," Kline surmises. "Where you both chase down murderers, correct?"

Kate nods slowly, rocking as Johanne stirs against her

"So, ostensibly, the two major figures in this child's life both do the same, dangerous, life-threatening job," the woman continues.

"I don't," he cuts in quickly. Fuck. It's not about him. It's about Beckett. About her job. "I'm a novelist."

"I thought you were her partner," Kline offers, frowning.

"He is," Kate says immediately. "But it's…complicated. He's been shadowing me for research for his book series, and it's become a permanent thing."

"Ah. Right. Nikki Heat," Kline says, a spark of recognition crossing her face. "I hadn't made the connection."

Castle swallows and nods, hoping something good is coming of this. "So, no, I'm not—it's dangerous, yes, but I'm not a cop."

"And just who's going to watch the baby while you're out playing cop with Detective Beckett?"

He blanches but Kate stands her ground. "My father can watch her during the day a few times a week, and for the others I'll get a qualified nanny."

"So, you've brought this baby back to have her looked after by other people?"

Castle bristles. "What, every person you inspect is able to be a full-time parent? I highly doubt that."

"Castle," Kate chides.

"I'm simply observing that perhaps Detective Beckett hasn't fully considered her lifestyle choices," Kline replies.

"There are many people who will get to know and care for Johanne. But the primary caregiver will still be me," Kate insists. "I have a demanding job, yes, but I have my priorities in order. I know the system, Ms. Kline. You can't fault me for needing to have someone watch her during the day. Half of the foster parents you willingly give children to have nannies, or worse, have the eldest children watching the younger ones."

Kline considers her for a moment before nodding and checking a box on her chart. "Very well. You have a plan for her day care. That said," she shifts on her feet, somehow managing to look more intimidating than before, "your work is dangerous, is it not? In fact, I see on record that you just moved to this apartment earlier this year. What happened to your last one?"

Castle nearly groans. That was a…special circumstance.

Kate merely meets the woman's eyes. "It blew up," she says calmly.

"With you inside it, if I'm not mistaken," Kline says, raising an eyebrow. "I have to ask, honestly, why on earth do you think you're fit to care for this child? Exploding apartments? Late hours? Unpredictable life expectancy?" Castle splutters. "You realize you are exactly the kind of candidate I would refuse an adoption, no matter how many people you may have on call to babysit." She glares at both of them. "But here we are, and somehow, you've already adopted her."

"Yes," Kate says, her jaw tight, despite the gentle grip she has on Johanne.

"What exactly are you getting at?" Castle adds, taking a step closer to Kate.

"I don't know how you pulled these strings, Detective, but I can tell you, if so much as a whisper of life endangerment hits my desk, I'll have this baby out of here so fast it'll feel like getting her out of Haiti again."

Castle grips Kate's hip before she can start toward the woman. "You would rather I left here there to die?" Kate hisses. "Anyone could be hit by a taxi, killed by a falling cinderblock, attacked, mugged, stabbed." He squeezes her hip. "Do you really think a life with me is worse than dying of disease in that tiny hospital?"

"I think you haven't thought this through," Kline replies. "I'm not taking her now, Detective. But I will be back to check up on you, and I'm putting a probationary hold on your case."

"Ms. Kline," Castle starts.

"If you weren't financially stable and set up to house this baby, I would have taken her already, all your string pulling be damned," Kline admits. "But you obviously care for her, and you have references," she continues, looking at Castle, "that promise me you are capable. You are psychiatrically fit to care for a baby. I'm just making sure you're physically capable. I'll see you in a few months."

"And legally?" Kate gets out as Kline gathers her things and heads for the door. "Legally, it's all worked out, for now."

"You can't be serious," Castle says.

Kline sighs and looks at them, standing together in the middle of the living room. "You have a good heart, Detective. That's obvious. I'm just trying to do what's right for the baby in your arms. I'll see you in three months."

With that, she leaves, the door shutting with a somber finality in her wake.

Johanne wakes with a cry. Kate absently strokes her back, bouncing as she stares at the closed door.

"I'll call someone," he says softly, his hand still on her hip.

She leans into his arm with a groan. "No, Castle. She's right."

"No she's not," he says fiercely. He's not letting that horrible woman ruin this. "Tons of cops have children. Surprise children. Unwanted children. Eagerly anticipated, planned children. And you don't see their kids being taken away."

Slowly, Kate looks up at him. "I just wanted to protect her," she says softly.

"You're doing just that. And in three months, that awful excuse for a human will come back, and see Johanne flourishing and talking, and she'll have to eat her words. You're going to be a wonderful mom. You already are. Don't…don't let her get to you, okay?"

She nods, but doesn't meet his eyes.

"You took down your murder board." Her eyes swing to his and he bites his lip. Okay, not what he meant to say, really.

"Of course I did," she says, a little indignant.

"Smart," he offers lamely. "Keeping it down until this is all finalized."

She shakes her head and kisses her daughter's forehead. "Keeping it down until it's safe," she corrects. "My mom kept digging into it until it got her killed, Castle. She didn't know what she was doing, but I do. I can't do that to Johanne. At work—at work it's calculated risks, but this—she's more important."

He stares at her for a moment before nodding. "See, protecting her."

"Yeah, I doubt that would earn me points with Harper Kline," she says, breaking away to wander to the couch and settle there, raising her knees to brace Johanne against them. She smiles down at the baby.

"Let's just call her the Harpie," he suggests, following and sitting down next to her. Kate nods absently, pulling a face at Johanne. "You know she's crazy, right?"

Kate meets his eyes. "Yeah, I do."

"Promise?"

She laughs and looks down at Johanne. "Even if I didn't, Castle, how could I walk away from this face?"

He chuckles and leans down next to her to smile at the baby. He feels Kate's head press against his. He forces himself to relax, to let her lean on him as they coo at Johanne.

"Thanks for being here today," Kate says a few minutes later. "I don't—you weren't exactly smooth, but you helped."

He chuckles and reaches out to tickle Johanne's tummy. "I try."

"Yeah," she agrees, turning to press her lips to his cheek. "Yeah, you do, Castle." He feels her smile as a blush climbs his cheeks.

He may not know exactly where he stands, what he is to her daughter, or to her, really. But he has learned something. They're a 'permanent thing.' There's no way he's not going to be around to make sure Johanne becomes one as well.