Close Encounters 18

They'd eaten pasta until it was unseemly, bursting with it, and then they'd ordered two more meals to be covered and taken with them. They stored their brown bags in the mini-fridge and crawled into bed, too replete to move. Kate fell asleep the moment her eyes closed, he could tell, but he'd slept more and it took him longer to get there.

When they were both awake and it was creeping into Wednesday morning, they gave up on restful sleep and pulled spaghetti out of the fridge, heated it in the little microwave, one serving after another, eating from paper plates in bed together. Her toes were cold against his thigh where she'd tucked them under, and he leaned against the wall while she used the headboard, their bodies perpendicular and seeking the other.

He lowered his plate to the floor and left it there, still tasting on his tongue the wine in the sauce and the meatballs, the sharp tones of basil and oregano, and he waited on her to finish. She'd had a small glass of wine at their early dinner yesterday, but she was doggedly taking sips of water, replenishing her fluids with the bottle he'd bought out of the vending machine in the lobby.

"So we have until the end of October or maybe beginning of November," he started, taking her empty plate from her hands. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and nodded. "If we keep his birth quiet, we might buy a couple weeks, but I don't want to bet on it."

"Right. Me either. I also don't want to go dark when James is a newborn. I think it will be hard enough learning to be a mom without adding fearing for our lives on top of it."

He swallowed it back, tried to stay focused. "I don't want to run with a newborn," he scraped out. "But if-"

"Let's not dwell on that," she said. "We'll be ready; I'll help you any way you need to get passports, documents, replace what I took to go to Tunisia."

"I've already taken care of it," he said softly. He was so glad he had, so glad he could offer at least that. "We have everything we need if it comes to that."

"Then we won't talk anymore about it," she said. Her toes wriggled under his thigh. "Talk to me about what we can do after he's born. What our plan is to convince your father to back off."

"It's like you said," he offered. "He bought it all - he thinks James is a part of this now. He thinks he can... sway our son, when the time comes. He thinks James will take up the program."

"Future problems," Kate said easily. "I'm looking right now at the rest of this year. Have James safely, both of us survive, and all three of us go home together. Together. I want to hold my son and nurse him, I want to give him to you to rock to sleep - I want that. I'm going to fight for that, Castle."

He took a deep breath in, nodding, his throat tight. He'd needed to hear that. He knew it was true, but he'd needed to be sure. "Good. Good, then... we can do it. You're going to be sidelined for a few... months? after James is born. I'll sit out too, as much as I can. But I might have to go into the Office."

"Months?" she murmured. "No. Not months. A few weeks."

"A few weeks? Are babies... can they be away from, uh, you know, milk that long?"

She was laughing at him and he narrowed his eyes, but she waved away his indignation and only smiled. "We can do anything we want. I can express milk or we can wean him to formula. I can't - I don't think I want to do more than a few weeks. Four weeks? Certainly not months. Even if he is your son."

Castle laughed, not sure what that meant, and he shrugged back at her. "Okay. So. A few weeks maternity leave. Four seems... maybe six weeks? I'll stick close to home at first - especially those first few weeks when you're vulnerable-"

"You make us sound like vulnerable herd animals. Like water buffalo."

"You're a gazelle at least," he said smartly.

Kate laughed again and curled up on her side against the headboard, reaching out and combing her fingers through his bangs, tugging a little at the ends. "You think you're so cute."

"I am pretty cute. You keep running your hand through my hair and sighing. I'm pretty sure that's what that means."

"It means your hair is getting long, you smartass."

He grinned and caught her wrist before she could withdraw it, kissed the slow thump of her pulse. "And when maternity leave is over?"

"You've got my back," she answered. "You always do. I trust you."

He cupped her hand in his and pressed it against his chest. "But what does it look like? What does our life look like after he's born and we don't have him as a shield for you?"

She flinched. "That sounds awful. Using our unborn as a shield."

"It's working," he shrugged. "I don't care. It's working."

Kate rolled her cheek against the headboard and closed her eyes. "It's working. And when my shield is gone... I have you. And we have a plan." She opened her eyes again, filled with grit. "We make sure it never looks like I'm screwing him up - James - we make sure it appears that he's part of Black's program, following the course. If Black thinks I'm unduly influencing him, then I'll stay... stay away. I'll just - you guys can - I'll keep from-"

"No," Castle said sharply. "No. That is unacceptable. That's not life either, Beckett. I know it's not, because that's what I had with him. You're his mother, and he is going to have his mother. I will not let Black take that away from him, from us."

She pressed her hand over her mouth, her eyes swimming. "I'm sorry. I - of course we won't - that's what happened to you and I just-"

He gave up on keeping away from her, dragged them together in the middle of the bed to reassure them both. "I know. I know. I want more for us. That's the whole point of everything - that it's more with you, Kate."

She was nodding against him and he forced himself to let go, to reclaim the more light-hearted and confident mood. "You're right about having a plan. Our plan is to perpetuate the show - keep making Black believe we're sold on the regimen, that we know how vital it is to our lives - and some of that is true. We understand what it is, what I need from it, what James might need, but we aren't enslaved to it."

"We're not enslaved," she echoed. "Do you think I'm going to be a good mother to him?"

He dragged his hand down her arm, squeezed her harder. "Yeah, love. You already are."

Her mouth twisted, a crooked smile, and she leaned in against him, her arms wrapping around his torso for a quick hug. "I don't - I don't know about that translating so well to outside, in the world, but thanks."

"How could it not? Everything you're willing to do for him already, and he's just a little frog kicking his legs, a grey wolf on the ultrasound screen."

Kate laid her hand over her stomach. "My little wolf." She laughed and shook her head. "Sasha is going to be so confused."

"Sasha is going to love him."

"Hmm, probably. She's territorial about her people."

"Definitely. Even Carrie and your dad."

"She'll have to share that room. Oh, shit. We have to get furniture. And clothes. Toys."

Castle laughed finally, felt the too-wide focus of his anxiety begin to shift into a narrower range, an easier target, a pinpointed result. "Furniture. A crib and those - what are they called? - I wanna say a one-way voice link, but that's spy stuff."

Kate cracked up, tumbling over into him as she laughed. "Oh, Rick. Yeah, sweetheart, a baby monitor?"

"Yeah, that."

"I'm sure you'll get something intensely informative and completely unnecessary. But yes, we need one of those. And a shitload of diapers."

He grinned. "You made a joke." Shitload.

"A jo-? Oh, I did," she giggled. Giggled. His spy wife did not giggle.

"You're fucking tired," he grumbled, wrapping an arm around her and sliding them down in bed. "Come on. We'll talk about furniture until you fall asleep."

"We didn't really decide on a plan for after, did we?"

"Close enough. We play the game - but not to the detriment of our family. That's a plan. I don't care if I have to lie to his face for the rest of his life. I'll do it if it means keeping you off his radar."

She settled in at his shoulder and he brushed her hair out of his mouth even as she smoothed the wrinkles out of his shirt. "I think that so long as we're in the CIA, your father will be satisfied. He wants the work to continue, and we've basically put him on reset with - with James."

With James. "Kate, if the day comes... and that's a cosmic shift right there, me being able to say if instead of when. But if the day comes that we can't play the game, that he doesn't buy it anymore or he takes it upon himself to - to steal my son or murder my wife - I will kill him. I won't hesitate. And if that day comes, Kate, please. Please don't stop me. Trust me to know when the time is right, when it is beyond salvation. Please. Please trust me."

For a long moment, Kate was completely stiff in his arms, unspeaking, her breathing harsh in the morning light. And then her voice came, low and rough, her forehead pressed to his shoulder.

"I trust you." She made a fist in his shirt and gripped so tightly he could feel the press of her nails through the material and into his skin. "If it comes, that day we can't convince him, I won't stop you. I want this more, I want us. I want us."

He wanted to sob in relief, but instead he just rolled over into her and buried her with his body, covering her, so damn grateful.

She'd conceded to him on Bracken and the day had never come. She'd conceded now about his father but he was afraid - he'd been afraid it would come all too soon. He'd been afraid of what would happen to her if he had to kill Black.

And now he wasn't.

She'd given him license to kill his father, if it was necessary.

He felt a lot better now.

She slept hard and woke disoriented in the darkness.

Her eyes scanned the room in a confusing jumble and eventually the shape of things made themselves known to her - the pale window, the dresser, the chair, her husband in bed with her. She found the wind-up alarm clock ticking on the nightstand and couldn't comprehend the time.

What day was it, how long had she slept?

Kate slid out of bed and swayed with the motion, blinking to clear her head, and she reached for her phone and its display.

It was tomorrow. Tomorrow night. She'd slept straight through. Holy shit.

And she was starving again, and the pill - she hadn't taken either one, and Castle.

She turned in bed and reached for him, fingers at his shoulder. He came awake instantly, not even groggy and sat up on his elbow. "You're awake."

"It's tomorrow," she said stupidly.

He chuckled and sat up against the headboard, rubbing his hands over his face. "I woke a few times but you were still passed out."

"I'm starving," she muttered.

"We have leftovers in the fridge, if you want something fast. I got up at about eight this morning and found us a new place to stay."

She had been getting out of bed to head for the food but at his announcement, she turned quickly, stunned. "You left me?"

He stared at her in the darkness for half a beat too long and her heart dropped to her stomach. "No," he croaked. "Not - didn't leave you. God, no. I used the internet service here. The laptop. Not in person."

She sank weakly to the mattress and dipped her head in her hands. "Sorry. Sorry, I'm - still fuzzy with sleep."

He came up at her back and leaned in, his arms around her and his mouth against the nape of her neck. "And hunger, I'm sure. I thought you must need the sleep. You've had four hours at a time and that can't be sustained, love."

"No, I'm okay," she assured him. "I'm fine. Just surprised. And yeah, hungry. I'll eat and we can check out the place you found?"

"Sounds good. We'll sit on it for a few days, see what the neighborhood is like, the routines, until we're sure."

"Don't buy it with the Rodgers name-"

"No, of course not," he murmured. "Eat, Kate. We'll talk when you've gotten some food in you."

"Yeah," she said, nodding. She was all over the place, her mind focused on food like a dog with a bone. "I miss my dog."

He laughed and nuzzled the skin behind her ear. "Yeah, love. I do too. Let me heat up some spaghetti for you."

He crawled past her and got out of bed, heading for the mini fridge and their leftovers. She raised a shaky hand to her hair and scraped it off her face, feeling weird. She'd missed the whole day.

Castle heated her food and she finally got out of bed, shedding clothes as she went. Their bag was on top of the dresser, nothing unpacked, and she dug through it for clean underwear and a pair of jeans.

"Here, love," he said softly. "Can I turn the light on?"

"Yeah," she answered, wincing when the brightness flooded her retinas. She found green panties and a black bra, struggled into them even while her limbs were still rubbery from too much sleep.

She slid her legs into her jeans, huffing a breath as she buttoned them. She brushed a touch over her stomach and even though the bump was significant to her, it wasn't really all that much. A snug fit to her jeans was all.

Castle had laid food out in its cardboard box on the small table pushed up against the wall, and she sank down gratefully, grabbed the fork.

"Babe, seriously. You don't even have on a shirt."

"So what? I have on a bra."

He snorted something and his fingers danced over her shoulder and down, making her skin ripple. His kiss was soft against the side of her neck, his thumb hooking under one strap, his hand following the line of her bra. She caught her breath and swallowed her bite of spaghetti, lifted her free hand to cup his face.

"You gonna follow through?" she husked.

"No. Just here to tease you like you're teasing me."

She laughed and turned into his cheek, nipped his jaw with her teeth.

"Ouch," he grumbled.

"I'm hungry," she warned him.

Castle removed his hand and kissed her hard on the cheek before leaving her to it. He went back to the bed and pulled the covers up, a fit of domesticity she'd never seen in him before. He was straightening the clothes in the duffle bag and checking the equipment they'd appropriated from his father when her phone buzzed on the table.

She swallowed her next to last bite, slid a finger over the lock screen. When she entered the code, she realized it'd been an email alert.

"Your father arrived safely," she said, her heart thumping. "He - just emailed me."

"What?" he rasped. His fingers plucked the phone out of her hand and he read it for himself while she finished off the last of the spaghetti. "That disturbs me. Profoundly disturbs me."

"What? That he's safe or that he's emailing me?"

"Emailing you," he growled. "We had a plan, a different way to communicate. But instead. He's made you complicit in his escape."

She pressed her lips together, frowning, and Castle growled.

"Still playing fucking games. With your life. Now you've got an email from him at your government account that says loud and clear you helped him escape despite the capture/kill order."

"And it blackmails you as well," she said softly. "Because even if we delete it - even if I have Ryan go back in the servers and delete it - it's still there. It's his way of assuring our deal, and honestly, Castle, do you blame him?"

"Yes," he hissed. "I blame him." He slapped the phone back into her hand and paced the floor.

She shut her mouth and watched him work out his frustration, leaned forward to toss the cardboard container into the trash can.

"Hey," she said quietly.

He turned on his heel, his face thunderous, helpless. Her heart ached for him but there wasn't a thing she could do about it. Except distract him.

"Let's go look at our new place, okay?"

He took in a breath and squeezed his hands into fists at his sides. She saw the effort it took to calm down, the way he subsumed all that rage, and she knew the day would come when he couldn't - when it wouldn't be tamed, when the years of abuse and neglect and attempted murder by his father would rise up in Castle and take over.

But maybe this was a fresh start, a way to build a different relationship, a way to salvage whatever had been and make something new. Maybe his father wouldn't always want her dead, maybe James was the missing piece.

She had to hope. She needed that hope. Because they needed Black.