Fourteen

On Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving, Kate met Castle at the precinct shortly before three p.m. as per his instructions. He was finishing up paperwork so she sat and waited with her overnight bag in her lap. According to Castle, it was impossible to get the full Rodgers-Feinman family dynamic without being there for all of Thanksgiving Day, which meant that they needed to arrive the night before.

Once all his paperwork was in order, Castle wished a happy holiday to his colleges, grabbed his own duffle bag, and headed out with Kate. They walked to the nearest subway station and boarded the F train to Brooklyn.

"In case I forget to say it," Kate told him once they were seated on the southbound train, "Thanks for inviting me."

"You're welcome," he smiled at her. He gazed over at her for a moment before asking gently, "Do you have any family left, Kate?"

She looked down at her lap and shook her head. "Not really. When my father died, my grandmother—my maternal grandmother—was still living, but she passed a few years ago. I have an uncle on my father's side, but he's lived in Texas since I was a toddler so I never really knew him." She glanced up to him and sighed. "Don't give me that look, Castle."

"What look?"

"That 'Oh she had no family so she must be lonely' look. I'm fine," she promised him.

"Well, yeah," he said in an isn't-it-obvious tone. "You're rich."

Her jaw dropped slightly. "I'm not rich!"

"You're not poor."

"Well, no," she said with a slight laugh, "but I don't think I'd call myself rich."

"Tell that to your Jimmy Choo's," he muttered.

She rolled her eyes and ignored his comment. After a minute of silence she asked, "So your step-brother—is he your age?"

"Three years older," he informed her.

"So are you close?"

He let out a bark of laughter. "Um, no. Elliot is a total freak."

"Castle!"

"He is!" he insisted, turning to face her. "He's a forensic accountant and he likes it! Ugh," he added with a shiver.

"So I guess that means he's not cool enough for you?" she asked mockingly.

"Well that goes without saying," Castle responded. Again, she rolled her eyes. "But I mean, its not like we grew up together—we were already adults by the time our parents got married so we just learned to play nice at holidays. His kids don't even call me 'Uncle.'"

"How long ago did your parents get married?" she asked.

"Well, let's see," he paused, letting his eyes drift towards the ceiling as he thought. "Meredith and I were married in ninety-nine and they probably got married two years after that. So since oh-one I guess? They actually met at my wedding. Joe was the manager of the banquet hall where we had the reception."

"Really?" Kate smiled with amusement.

"Yeah. His wife had died a year or so before so he was just starting to get back out there. My mom hadn't really dated either and they just kind of clicked I guess. He's a really good guy and I know he really loves my mom and he makes her happy, which is all that matters."

"Yeah it is," she smiled at him.

"Did…did your father ever date?" he asked.

"A little bit," she told him. "The first time I knew about him dating someone was when I was seventeen. If he did it before that he either hid it well or I was too much in my own teenage world to notice. He had a pretty serious girlfriend when I first started college and she was okay I guess. I wasn't around her much, but they ended up breaking up and then…" She let her voice drift off; her father's untimely death went without mention.

Castle nodded. "It's weird, right? Your parent dating."

She scrunched up her nose and nodded. "Yeah it kinda is. So, um, you said your step-brother is married, right?"

"Yes to Claire. You're really going to like her; she's such a sweetheart. She's a pre-school teacher and she's just real laid-back and down to earth. And then they have a boy and a girl—Hannah—is five and EJ—short for Elliot Junior—is three."

Kate nodded, mentally filing away all that information for when she met them. "Are you good with kids, Castle?"

"Uh, no," he said with a laugh. "Well, I mean, I guess I'm not terrible. I'm pretty good with Hannah because she's old enough now that we can talk about stuff, but with the little ones…" he shrugged helplessly. "I just don't know what to do with them or say to them. Like what am I gonna tell them? All about the gruesome bodies I found. Newsflash: parents kind of get upset if you tell their young children about murders."

Kate chuckled, knowing that comment came from his own experience. "So you're one of those who panics around babies, aren't you?"

"Actually," he said proudly, "infants I can do. As long as they're completely immobile, I'm fine."

"Really?" she asked with utmost surprised. He nodded proudly. She merely smiled and turned away, thinking to herself that she would pay money to watch him handle a screaming infant.

The remainder of their ride was mostly silent, but not uncomfortably so. They got off the train about twenty minutes later and made their way to the Rodgers-Feinman home located in a nice Brooklyn neighborhood. The air was crisp, but not too cold yet so their walk was pleasant. Castle's mother and step-father lived in one side of a duplex on a street filled with children playing, happy to have a few days off school.

Once they arrived, Castle introduced Kate to his step-father Joe and his mother, Martha. "It's so nice to finally meet you, Kate; Rick has told me so much about you," Martha gushed, pulling Kate in to an immediate hug.

"Oh," Kate said with a slight laugh. "Good things I hope."

"No they were mostly bad," Castle smiled, taking her luggage and disappearing with it up the stairs.

"Now, Kate, Darling, can I get you a glass of wine?" Martha said, placing an arm around the younger woman and leading her in to the back of the house. Once in the kitchen she added, "It is practically a holiday, you know."

"Sure, whatever you have is fine," Kate told her with a smile.

Martha poured her a healthy glass of red and passed it over before gesturing for her to sit at the kitchen table. "I just have to tell you that I recently read your book and I absolutely loved it!"

"My book?" Kate asked, swallowing her wine with a heavy gulp.

"Yes! Chasing Down Love," Martha said, clutching her chest dramatically.

"Oh…Ca-Rick told you about that? He wasn't supposed to," she said with a nervous laugh, making a mental not to yell at him for that later.

"Oops," Castle said innocently as he entered the kitchen and poured himself a scotch. "Eh, she's not going to tell anyone, are you Mom?"

"Secrets safe with me-"

"And all of Brooklyn," Castle muttered into his drink.

"-but Kate, really, the book was sensational!"

"Oh," she said, her cheeks turning pink, "thank you."

"Seriously—I loved it. In fact," she smiled, reaching behind her to take her husband's hand. "It gave us some inspiration!"

"Oh, well, isn't that disgusting," Castle interjected. "Thanks, Kate, for helping my mother have great sex."

"Anytime," she said before taking another gulp of wine.

"Listen kids, Elliot called and said he's having trouble getting out of the office so they won't be here for a little while yet. Why don't you just go into the den and make yourselves comfortable," Joe told them.

Castle led the way in to the adjoining room, which put her modern Manhattan apartment to shame. The den came complete with shag carpeting and walls covered in wood paneling as well as furniture circa the nineteen-eighties. "There really is no defense to this room," Castle said with a sigh when they entered. "It's like the time capsule from hell."

"It's not that bad."

"It's horrible," Castle told her. "Joe's lived in this place since the eighties obviously and when Mom moved in here she tried to redecorate but he wouldn't let her touch this room—said it was nostalgic."

Kate nodded as she surveyed the space. Cradling her wine, she walked to the other side of the room where, behind the television, there was a wall of shelves covered in family photos. She saw many of the same dark-haired boy growing up and assumed this to be Elliot. On the lowest shelf there was a picture of Joe and Martha on their wedding day. Behind that photo, there was one even more interesting.

"Oh my god," she exclaimed, gently picking up the picture of Castle on his wedding day. "This is Meredith?" The red-head was cute, she had to admit, but she was not a fan of the wedding dress; the beading and design were far too gaudy for her taste. Mostly, she was just stunned by how baby-faced Castle was. Then again, it made sense considering he was only around nineteen in the picture.

"Oh god," he groaned, walking over behind her so he could see the photo. "I really wish they'd take that down. I keep asking, but Joe likes it since it was the day he met Mom."

"You were cute back then. What happened?" she teased as she replaced the photo.

He gave her an unappreciative look. "Funny. You realize that now you have to show me photos of you from when you were younger."

"Hmm…we'll see," she said with a side-glance in his direction before continuing to explore the room.

An hour and a half later, Kate and Castle were still sitting in the den talking when the noisy arrival of more guests drew their attention to the front of the house. Kate spotted a slender, dark-haired man with glasses resembling the small boy in the den photos and assumed this to be Elliot. His wife was a shorter, rounder woman with dark hair and a distinct Brooklyn accent. Their daughter wore a denim jumper with a striped shirt underneath, her hair spilling in ringlets all over her shoulders, and their son, dressed in a sweater and black pants, squirmed in his father's arm.

As the introductions were made, Claire gasped, "Oh my gawd! You're the girl that writes those dirty books!"

Kate let out a nervous laugh before shooting a glance in Castle's direction. He slunk into the kitchen as she wondered just how many people he had told about her alter ego. "Yeah," she said, "that's me. I'm also a reporter at the Times."

"Don't worry Dear," Claire said, patting Kate's arm. "Ricky told us all about your Pulitzer too. I just happen to think those books are way better than the news!"

"Well I find your pieces very interesting," Elliot told her. "I've enjoyed following your series on the murders of those poor young women."

"Yeah we're gonna catch that son of a bitch one of these days," Castle added.

"Rick!" Claire hissed, covering her daughter's ears.

Castle cringed and turned towards the rest of the group. "Let's eat, shall well?"

All throughout dinner Kate was regaled with story after story from the blended family, most of them utterly hysterical. At one point, she could hardly see from the tears of laughter filling her eyes. Of course, she found the most entertainment in the stories that came at Castle's expense. Mostly, she enjoyed watching him interact with his family, particularly the little girl. After his cursing faux pas, she had expected him to be more the "Pull my finger" uncle, but he wasn't at all. He asked her about her school and gave her very animated responses that had her giggling uncontrollably in her seat.

They continued to sit at the table long after their meal was over, drinking wine and chatting about dozens of topics. After Elliot and Claire left so they could put their children to bed, Kate helped with the clean up until she was shooed away by Martha, who insisted that guests didn't need to clean. Instead, she went into the main sitting room and reflected on the atmosphere she'd just been a part of. It had been so long since she'd experienced the family dynamic, she'd almost forgotten what it was like.

"Hey," Castle said from behind her.

She turned and smiled at him. "Hey."

"You okay? They didn't completely overwhelm you, did they? I know they can be kind of…loud."

"No," she said, shaking her head and smiling. "No they were great. I'm just…I guess I'm just a little tired."

"Oh well then by all means let me show you to the guest room," he said, smiling. He led the way up the stairs and into the first bedroom on the left. The room was small, but cozy, decorated with ample peach tones. It held a double bed with two end tables and a small chair in the corner. She noticed her suitcase was sitting beside the chair.

"So, uh, the bathroom's down the hall. There are plenty of fresh towels in there but the closet beside it has more if you need them. If you need anything el…what are you doing?" he asked her. As he'd been giving his run-down, she'd walked over to the bedroom door, shut it, and leaned back against it, staring at him with a most curious expression.

She pushed herself off the door and approached him as though a lioness would a gazelle on the Savannah. "You're the detective," she purred, her voice barely above a sexy whisper. "Why don't you figure it out?"

She stopped just in front of him, wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a sound kiss. Instinctually, his hands found her waist and he pulled her hips against his. When their lips broke apart he began, "Kate, I," but she cut him off.

"Shhh," she breathed, lightly shoving him towards the bed. He landed with the soft squeak of the mattress and she followed a moment later, entangling her lips with his once more.