Close Encounters 28


"Yes, sir," he said. "We plan on being back in the Office soon."

The Director grunted. "How soon is soon?"

"By next week."

"And Beckett is good for that?"

Castle glanced out over the lawn and came down the path towards the beach, phone against his ear. "Yes, sir. She's a hundred percent."

He could see them in the water of the bay.

"Well, good. Fine. That's good. We have something developing in South America that I might need you for."

"Sir, I don't-"

"You will for this."

Castle rubbed his forehead. "We'll see."

"I'll read you in when you get back to the Office."

Then it wasn't an emergency. Castle cleared his throat, took a breath of the sharp summer air. The wind was blowing and it ruffled his hair as he went down the boardwalk. "Beckett and I will call you when we report for duty."

"I'll be sure the doors unlock for you."

He gave a tight chuckle, but he wasn't sure the Director was kidding. The call ended just like that and he was left alone with the breeze stirring off the water.

Castle pocketed his phone and came down the last of the boardwalk steps and onto the beach. The bay was rough out there today, a storm coming in, but Kate had James in the water, the two of them bobbing with the waves.

He stood on the shore and watched them, the way James beamed at his mother after every great wave, his lashes dripping while she held him up out of the water. He had some rudimentary swimming skills, apparently could hold his breath they had discovered (by accident, of course), and they usually let him get dunked a few times.

James liked to kick hard and wear himself out on days they got to swim, which might be why the boy had gotten his days and nights confused. He slept hard, had begun taking two naps - one in the morning and one after lunch - and then that had melted into two or three naps and waking at six, seven, eight - unable to get back to sleep. Hopefully they'd broken them of that, James and Kate both.

Kate looked good. Two days of infusions, and she looked herself again. It was sobering just how bad off she'd been before, how bad they both had let it get, trying not to hit up their son for help. Castle had been reluctant only because they just didn't know, when it came down to it, what it was about James's blood that helped. He was augmented too, he had that special DNA, and Castle wanted Kate as far away from serum by-products as she could be.

But it was no use, he saw that. It was no use trying to separate them out. She was linked to James and James to him, genetically. Her basic chemistry had changed being pregnant with their son, and it was having its affect even now.

Castle lifted his hand to his bare chest, the tattoo he could feel sometimes like welts raised on his skin. He thought, some nights when it was dark and he was awake for good, he thought that the regimen was fighting the ink, trying to subsume it back into his body, destroy it, eat it up.

But the tattoo remained. Sometimes like this, a slightly raised impression where the lines were boldest, so that he could read his own tragedy blind.

"Say, Hi, Daddy!"

Castle roused, blinking in the sun as Kate called to him. James waved his hand as Kate carried him through waist-high water, the two of them like seals rising from the ocean. He came to meet them with the surf licking lightly over his feet, and Kate leaned in, a wet hand at his neck and a salty kiss.

"Hey there," she said, leaning back as James tried to topple to the ground.

"You taste good," he sighed, taking James from her and letting the boy soak his chest, soothe the wolf tattooed over his heart.

"I taste like sunscreen, I'm sure," she laughed. "You want to take him or-?"

"I'll keep him, but are you going somewhere?"

"Thirsty. Run up for some drinks. You want anything?"

So alive. She was just so alive. Already jogging towards the path in just that black one-piece, the bikini bottoms askew where James had dug his toes into her side.

"Rick?"

He took a breath, let her see his grin and his lust both. "Naw, I'm good. James and I will hang out till you get back."

She blew him a kiss, winking as she turned back around, a flash of golden skin and sleek, dark hair, disappearing over the dunes.

"Mama."

"Yeah," he croaked, nodding like an idiot. He patted James's back and tore his eyes from the place where she'd been, headed woodenly for the edge of the water. He sank down on his haunches and settled James on his feet in the sand, pulling himself back together.

"Mama." A little self-satisfied, her name out of their son's mouth, like he was pleased he'd invented her. Castle ducked the boy's head with a heavy hand and pushed the hair out of his eyes, wet and salty.

"Yeah, your mom's awesome, isn't she?"

James turned his head back around, mouth opening in a round 'o'. He lifted a hand and opened his fingers, closed them, something like a wave, or gimme gimme.

"She's coming back."

James grunted and squatted down at his side, a little mimic of his father.

Castle tilted his head and watched the boy watching him, and then he sank back onto his ass in the sand, the water swirling up and soaking his swimming trunks. James did the same, sitting down, a self-satisfied sound as he copied his father.

Huh.

"You having fun with Mom?" he asked.

James mumbled something, the tone the same, but the pitch his own. Words, of course, weren't quite there.

"Don't be too hard on her," he warned the kid. "I know she looks really good, and she probably feels pretty strong. But it's only been a few days, and she shouldn't push it."

James grunted.

"I know. She's gonna push it anyway. You're right."

He sighed and James sighed too, and then the boy gasped as water reached up to his belly button and tugged on him, sand disappearing out from under his bottom.

Castle chuckled, reaching out a hand to keep him steady, keep him on the shore as the wave receded.

James chuckled too, but he stood up, pushing off the sand and toddling a little unsteadily next to Castle. He put a small, sandy hand on Castle's shoulder, using his father for balance.

"That's better, huh?" Castle murmured. "So let's talk about you, wolf. I've been preoccupied with your mom, and you and I haven't checked in lately."

He reached up and snagged the kid by the back of his trunks as another wave came in, this one strong enough to have swept him off his feet. They were playing with fire a little bit here, but James didn't back away.

Fearless.

"You still the little feedback loop?" Castle said quietly. "James. You feeling everything?"

James lifted a hand and opened his fingers; sand fell in wet clumps from his palm. He twisted his wrist to rid himself of sand, but it still clung. He seemed oblivious to his father's questions.

Castle's eyes caught on a dark shell in the wet sand nearby. He focused on its image, the real sensation of it right there, concentrating, but James didn't budge, didn't go looking for the thing in his father's mind.

Well. Who knew. Pretty crazy anyway. Colin Hunt had said things, but Castle didn't believe them for a second. Not really.

He just wondered.

"Mama?" James turned his whole body around and leaned against Castle's chest, put a foot on his thigh and climbed. Castle caught him, smiling, and James started to bounce, babbling for Kate, looking back over Castle's shoulder.

A weird sensation traveled down his spine and Castle turned around, James twisting in his arms so he could see too, but she wasn't there. Not on the rise of dunes, nowhere in sight.

He stood up, feet primed on the sand, a moment of indecision. Did it even mean anything at all?

James was easy, relaxed in his arms, clapping his hands together now and laughing.

And in that moment, Kate came into view, a water bottle in two fingers, hair just beginning to dry in the wind and sun.

"Mama," James said with relish, as if he had conjured her up himself.

Maybe he had.


Castle stood at the top of the cliffs and watched his wife below. She had claimed a strip of sand between the crumble of falling rocks and the hungry waves that would be underwater when the tide came in.

She had maybe forty minutes left before that happened. She seemed to be making the most of it.

When he'd seen her heading down this direction, he had left Jim with the baby monitor while James napped, and he'd come down after her, slyly, wondering what she was up to every day this week. Every day since Colin had left, naptime rolled around and Kate came to the cliffside.

So today, he had too.

She had started with yoga, her bare feet planted in the sand, her running shorts a brilliant shock of neon green. She wore only a sports bra and exercise shirt; from here, he could see the streak of white on the back of her neck where the sunblock hadn't been rubbed in. Sweat stained a christmas tree up her back, her hair fell in her eyes whenever the wind blew off the ocean.

She had moved from yoga to pilates, working her abdominal muscles, strengthening her core.

He was surprised she hadn't yet asked him to spar. That's how much work she must have been putting into this, every day this week, down here on the beach conditioning herself. More than that, she must have been doing this all month, various times, Castle somehow unaware, too focused on redeeming Colin Hunt.

He realized now that she wouldn't ask him. She wasn't going to ask for him to spar with her when he was admittedly on the edge about her health.

But spying on her now, he knew she could handle it. He could see it in every line of her body. She had muscle definition, she had tone and balance and form. She didn't waver. She'd been exhausting herself doing this, but now that the infusion had taken hold, she was strong.

So Castle started down the path to meet her.

At the break in the cliffs where natural erosion had created a fissure, Castle paused again to watch her. Kate had stopped as well, as if resting, taking a moment, and she was facing the ocean, watching the waves come in with her hands on her hips.

Castle kept silent as he made his way down the scree, but something about the arrogance in her frame as she stared at the sea, something about the haughty tilt to her chin and the defiance in her eyes made him want her.

Want to take her.

He let his foot twist on the last of the rocks so that the noise reached her, and the moment she began to turn to look, he took off across the sand.

For an instant, incomprehension blanked her face, and then the second after that she yelped and went into a defensive posture, sinking back on her heels with her forearms up.

But it was too late. Castle tackled her around the waist and drove her back, her bare feet churning the wet sand. She gasped at his grip, but her knee came up and landed just off his solar plexus.

Good hit. Close enough - if he were anyone else.

But he wasn't anyone else. He was super, and he was still breathing, had barely felt it. She grunted in frustration and tried to catch herself, but Castle drove her down, intending to put her on her back.

Kate planted her knee in the sand and used his momentum against him, torquing her shoulder so that he rolled over her. Castle managed to catch her thigh as he went down, and she collapsed on top of him, the breath rushing out of her.

"What the fuck-?" she gasped.

"You've gotten slow," he grinned up at her.

Kate narrowed her eyes and kneed him hard, bringing her elbow down into his ribs at the same time. He curled defensively - an automatic thing - and she twisted out of his arms and hopped back up.

Castle rolled to his feet to meet her again, but before he could gain his balance, she lashed out.

Beckett's kick glanced across his hip; she was holding back.

He caught her foot and jerked, but she only came in close, hooked her leg around his waist, jumped him.

Castle hadn't been expecting that. He grunted and rocked back, his balance faltering as she latched on to him, and he went down. Beckett jerked into his fall, pushing him to his back with his own force.

He hit the sand with a growl, teeth rattling. Castle opened his eyes.

Kate was perched on his chest, knees in the sand on either side of his ribs, her hands planted on his chest, nostrils flaring in triumph.

Oh, no, baby. Not yet.

Castle reached up, cupped the back of her head in something like tenderness, and then he flipped them, driving her onto her back in the sand.

And suddenly water swirled around her head. She gasped, eyes widening, arching up into his body with a gasp.

The tide was coming in.

He rocked his hips back down into her, and the swirl of surf under her body made her writhe upwards, clinging to him. He growled to feel her body below him, strong and taut, vibrating with exertion, the cold shock of water.

"Good thing we're not enemies," she panted, tightening her arms around his neck.

"Why's that?" he grinned. He breathed deeper so that his ribs expanded out into hers.

She growled and shifted, her knees squeezing his thigh. "Because I am definitely not having professional thoughts about you."

"We got twenty minutes before the tide is over our heads," he murmured, dipping his mouth to brush across her neck. "Mm, salty."

"Fuck."

"Yeah, I was hoping so," he whispered.

"You are so incorrigible." She gasped again as a wave touched their bodies, and he used that moment of vulnerability to slide his hand between them. Kate moaned, shivering below him.

"Is that a yes?" he hummed.

"Oh, hell, it's a yes," she hissed. "Stop asking, more doing."

"I'll remind you of this when you bitch about seaweed in your ass."


He slept his four hours, woke around five the next morning, and slid out of bed. It was dark; the windows that formed the back wall showed the haunting view of birch trees and early fog, the night more of a faint gray than true black.

He walked softly down the hall and checked on their son, but James was curled in one corner of the crib with his corduroy elephant, fast asleep. The boy looked well out of it, which meant he was on a good sleeping schedule again. He was grateful for that.

But when Castle turned to close the door, Kate was at his back.

"Fuck," he croaked, heart pounding.

"Did I scare you?" she murmured, laughing back at him.

"It's five in the morning, Beckett. What the hell?"

She was grinning as she pulled him down the hall towards the kitchen. "I wanted to get up with you for a change. Only a few days left. Want to enjoy it."

"You can't enjoy it at a more reasonable hour?"

"You can't seem to," she said. "Now come on. I'm making us breakfast, and then we can watch the sun come up."

He followed her into the kitchen, sank back against the counter as she moved to the fridge. She pulled out the carton of eggs and picked out the last four, flashing him a smile over her shoulder. He leaned in and snagged a pan for her, put it on the stovetop.

She always did that, got ahead of herself in the kitchen, didn't properly prepare. He was glad to help.

Kate kissed his cheek, her lips strongly scented with mint, and she cracked open the eggs over the pan. He tugged the compost bucked out from under the sink and held it up to her so she could dump the shells. Her smile was gorgeous, beaming at him.

He watched her cook, the way she added ingredients one at a time, thoughtfully, as if she were making it up on the spot. An omelette, he saw, good idea since it meant they could use up the last of the fresh mushrooms and spinach.

Castle crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back, letting her do the work, watching her move. Her hips danced at the oven, her hair falling in soft waves to her shoulder blades, and she kept giving him teasing looks as she finished up.

"Want juice?" he said, lifting up to open the fridge.

She slapped his hand and pushed him back. "I got it. You're supposed to be taking it easy."

"Is that what we're doing here?" But he moved to sit down at the bar, putting his elbows on the counter. "Fulfilling our gender stereotypes?"

She laughed, glancing back at him. "For this one morning, sure, babe. That's what we're doing. The rest of the time? You cook, clean, and take care of the kid, like you usually do."

He grinned, lifting an eyebrow, smoothing his hands out on the granite. "You know it's not like that." She was plating the omelette; she had two forks out for them, one plate. He leaned in. "I don't do everything."

"Yes, you do," she shrugged. Then she curled her nose. "And I'm okay with you treating me like a princess."

"I do not," he injected. "I just - treat you like the woman I love."

Kate bit her bottom lip and set the plate on the counter, dropped the forks to wrap both arms around his neck. Her kiss tasted like toothpaste, the warm stroke of her tongue. He shifted to draw her into him, hooking an arm around her shoulders.

She stepped between his knees, soft and insistent against his mouth, her body filling his embrace. He slipped his hand to the hem of her t-shirt, rucked it up as he tunneled his way to the bare skin of her back.

She framed his face with her hands, nudged into the kiss to push him back. He blinked to clear his vision, focus on her face.

Gorgeous, beautiful woman.

"The way you love me, Rick Castle," she murmured. Her thumb stroked his bottom lip. "There are no words."

He felt his lust shiver down his spine and he grinned. "You do pretty damn good without words. But where's my coffee?"


Words weren't necessary for this either.

Kate pushed her husband out past the back garden and down the path towards the bay. It was secluded and they had coffee in their hands and the sky was growing lighter with every step.

"Come on," she cajoled, turning back to look at him. "You're slow, babe. Get moving or we'll miss it."

"I'm coming," he chuckled back. He was watching her, and she knew it. She was good; she felt strong. She didn't mind giving him the chance to believe it and trust in it again.

The path narrowed as it switched back through the dunes; the grass gave way to sand and she had to pay attention to her footing. Her travel mug of coffee she kept loose in her fingers, holding on to it by the lid, and the gray shadows of pre-dawn followed her down to the beach.

Castle came up at her back, a free hand at her nape, brushing the hair away from the place between her shoulder blades where he liked to touch her. They came to the last ridge of dunes and she stopped, gripping her toes in the night-cool sand as she looked out over the ocean.

"Sit?" he murmured.

Kate glanced back at him, his face washed out by the gray non-light, and she touched his chest with her free hand. "Yeah. Sure. The sand is a little cool-"

He shrugged out of his t-shirt before she could even finish her sentence, floating it to the ridge of sand at their feet. Kate let out a noise of surprise, but she sank down to his still-warm shirt, drawing her knees up.

He sat at her back, legs at either side of her hips so that she could lean into his chest. Castle sank his coffee mug into the sand and wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her arms. He pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck and settled his chin on her shoulder.

She could feel his slow breathing, feel the heat of his body at her back. She hooked her arms around her legs and tilted her head back against him, struggling to keep her eyes open.

"You tired now?"

"Mm, I'll go back to bed after this," she promised. The sea stretched for an infinity, ever-moving, ever-changing. The sky lightened by degrees, transforming from the dingy grey of the fading night to the green-tinged twilight.

Castle touched a kiss to her jaw. "Is it still good?" His nose nudged into her neck.

"Is... what still good?" she asked, turning to catch his profile. Was he doubting this? "Babe, what-"

"The island." He sighed, his eyes on the horizon. "This was supposed to be for you. Our private - our sanctuary. Is it ruined?"

"No, honey," she murmured, stroking the side of his face. "Nothing is ruined. It's beautiful here. It's perfect."

Then why do you want to leave so badly?

She heard it, what he didn't ask, but she didn't have an answer that would soothe him. It was time to go. It was just time to go. Real life awaited.

And now she was sad.

Kate turned her head back to the faint light over the ocean, the triumphal entry of dawn. Pink and pale yellow streaked through the sky like fingers reaching, and the water leaped to meet it.

Sunrise, and the beach was awash in light, casting the sand in vivid gold and the water in purple waves. She lifted a hand back and touched the side of his face, the scruff under her fingers, felt his kiss against her palm.

She scratched that two-day stubble and watched the light pearl in the sky. Like the inside of the black shells, everything pink and purple and shining.

Just then the sand dusted up a few feet from them, a spray of golden grains, and then a fox poked his head up. A pup, no bigger than her hand, with large pointed ears and dark eyes and a snout that wrinkled as he nosed up to see.

"Rick," she breathed.

"I see it," he mouthed at her cheek. He was still, barely breathing, and she curled her fingers at his ear to hang on, watching the fox.

It flipped in the sand and went sprawling down the dunes, a flick of its tail as it tried to right itself. Kate held in her laughter and watched the baby fox orient its ears, turn its head, and bounce towards a skittering crab.

The fox mewled and jumped back, shaking its head, and then went running after a wave. The thing got doused, soaked to the bone so that its fur was pointy spikes in a mane around its body. The fox shook his head as if trying to get water out of its big ears, and then jumped back from another incoming wave.

Castle laughed and the fox froze, jerked its head up to look at them.

But it didn't run off. The pup came closer, its paws so huge in comparison to its little body as it padded up the sand dunes. The fox stopped mere feet from them, sat down primly, and began licking its wet fur.

But it kept its eyes on them.

"Hey, little fox," she whispered.

The fox stopped washing, lifting its head, ears orienting. The sunlight beamed across the ocean and caught it red and gold, caught its white-tipped, flicking tail. The fox tilted its head and studied them, then came forward another few steps and opened its mouth to mewl at them.

Tail twitching, the fox slipped closer and mewled again, and Castle laughed softly. "She sounds like you."

"Sounds like - me?" she whispered. "And how do you know it's a girl?"

"Sounds like you when I-"

Kate slapped his shoulder and the fox jumped up, jumping again down the sand dunes, flipping its tail, and then down again to the shoreline. Unconcerned, completely at ease, playing. It raced up the beach and disappeared again.

"Adorable," Kate sighed.

"All because of you," he murmured at her ear. "And completely unafraid. That's good, isn't it? Kate Beckett makes a home for foxes."

She smiled, watching the sun slip free of the horizon to shine above the waves. A home for foxes.

"Because of you as well," she murmured, wrapping her hand around his calf. "You're part of this, Castle. We've built it together." She turned her head to him and caught the last of the sunrise reflected in the blue sky of his eyes. "Don't write yourself out of the story, love."