Still Here – Chapter 21

Beckett sat, perched on the edge of her desk, her eyes narrowed, focused on the murder board.

Greg Tennison—forty-two, divorced, middle management at some small time shipping company—had been found dead in his office earlier that morning. Lanie put the time of death between midnight and one the previous night; the cause of death… now that had been the interesting thing. Well, to be honest, the boys (and Castle, can't forget about Castle) had jumped to conclusions upon seeing the snake slowly wrapping itself around the man's torso.

"Hey Castle," Beckett had said with a smirk, when the snake poked it's head up and looked at them. "I think I found us a pet we can take home."

Castle had visibly paled, making it hard for her not to hold back her amusement. Lanie just shook her head and waited for animal control to come in and remove the reptile.

Once they had gotten back to the precinct after the on-scene questioning of the janitorial staff and some of the employees, who had been at work early, Castle had started right in on his absurd theories. She rolled her eyes as each theory became more convoluted and preposterous. She, on the other hand, clamped down on forming any theories of her own until Lanie had finished with the autopsy.

And that's what Beckett was doing now, waiting on Lanie for an autopsy report, and on the boys, who were following up on a lead to where the snake came from. She adjusted her weight on the edge of her desk and groaned, placing a hand on her middle. She was really starting to pay for skipping breakfast—the twins weren't happy, and neither was their father.

Speaking of which, where was Castle?

Beckett frowned and glanced around, not seeing him. He had wandered off at some point, talking animatedly on the phone. He seemed upset about something, and also appeared like he was trying to keep something from her. Beckett had been suspicious, but at the moment her attention had been on the case.

Sighing, Beckett turned back to the murder board and placed her other hand on her stomach, joining the one already there, promising the twins that as soon as daddy got back, they'd get fed. When she had exited the elevator with Castle and the boys earlier that morning, she had gotten some looks, everyone almost openly stared at the now visible bump that had formed during the two weeks since her move into the Loft.

Two weeks. The time just seemed to fly by. It only seemed like yesterday that she and Castle had finished unpacking the last box (oh wait, it had). Two weeks and she was completely moved in. And Castle was beginning to put some pressure on her to help out with the wedding plans, which is what had him MIA. She remembered now. He had said he was talking with their wedding planner, Gloria DeGrass—a witch if ever there was one—but she came highly recommended, and most importantly, Castle hadn't used her before. So they considered Gloria free of any bad vibes that had accompanied the previous wedding planner, who had orchestrated Castle's previous two marriages.

"Third time's the charm, eh?" Castle had winked at her before wandering off, already in a shouting match with the wedding planner over flower.

I mean, how girly can he be? Beckett sighed with a frown. She knew she should really be helping out. It was her wedding, too. Her one and only. Some might say she was being unrealistic saying that, what with the divorce rate in this country—not to mention Castle's past record in matrimony, but she was determined to be a one and done kind of girl. And to have Rick Castle as her one and done.

Gloria was thrilled about their plans for having the wedding on the beach at the Hamptons house. Beckett thought she might have relented to that idea too quickly. Sure, it was more secluded, but didn't the paparazzi have like a permanent helicopter flying around the Hamptons spying on all the rich people there? At least that's what she was led to believe by the gossip magazines that she occasionally indulged in—one of her few guilty pleasures. Beckett was a little worried that the paparazzi would get wind of their nuptials and camp outside his beach house, waiting for them to arrive.

Not to mention the fact she was pregnant. She did not want to share that news with the entire public. At least not yet. The whole 12th precinct already knew, but that was a given, seeing as they had all gawked at her this morning. Everyone, who had not been in the know, had been shocked. She had managed to wear loose blouses during the past weeks, hiding the growing evidence of her condition, but this morning they had been in a rush, so she had been unable to take the time to select carefully. As a result, her condition was painfully obvious.

Grinding her teeth, Beckett scowled at nothing, wishing things could be easier. Month number four was rapidly approaching, so she was showing… and much more than she had been prepared for. Dr. Elam told her it was because she was carrying twins, and that she should be prepared for growing a lot larger—and quicker—than most other women (something Beckett wasn't too thrilled about).

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"Huh?" Beckett blinked and glanced to her left, finding Castle standing beside her, his eyes sparkling as he milked in the image of her sitting on the edge of her desk with her hands resting on her still small, yet obvious, baby bump.

"You looked far away," Castle said, stepping closer as she scooted over to make room for him. He lifted himself up and plopped down beside her with a smirk and wiggle of his eyebrows. "Hungry?"

Beckett ran her lower lip under her teeth. "That obvious?"

"Well, there's a lovely stack of waffles back home that got ignored this morning, so I'm guessing yes," he blinked innocently, making her feel guilty for skipping breakfast, something she was now greatly regretting.

"I know… sorry," she murmured, turning her head towards him, leaning in closer. "I know you woke up early to make them for me."

Castle shrugged. "Well, just don't come complaining to me when Dr. Elam berates you when you fail your check-up next week," he said, smirking.

Beckett snorted and rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to fail," she paused and frowned. "Though you're probably right about me getting a lecture. After dinner last night, my dad said I was too skinny for a pregnant woman." She glanced up at him, to hear his opinion on the matter.

He ran his fingers over his mouth, like he was zipping them shut. "I'm staying clear of that one, Detective," he grinned. "Though… to be honest, I wouldn't mind a little more meat on the bones… mainly for selfish reasons."

"Oh," she raised an eyebrow, curious now. "And what sort of reasons would those be?"

Castle didn't fail her. He leaned closer, invading her personal space, something she had ceased to admonish him for. "Gives me more to fondle during foreplay… not to mention grab a hold of during… other things," he whispered, his mouth close to her ear, his breath warm against her skin.

Beckett involuntarily shivered, her eyes closing as her mouth dropped, her traitorous subconscious putting images into her mind. When she came too, she saw Castle leaning back, a smug grin plastered on his face. She narrowed her eyes and gave him her infamous glare.

"Just for that, you ain't getting any tonight, mister," she quipped back with a little devious smile that betrayed her hollow threat. Oh, she was going to have her wicked way with him tonight.

Her smile grew wider in triumph as Castle groaned and shuddered, immediately responding to her lust filled gaze. Swallowing hard, he averted his gaze to regain his composure. "So," he spoke up, his voice breathy with suppressed want. "Lunch?"

Beckett nodded, pushing herself up off the desk, but deciding to have a little fun before she completely gave in to her hunger. "You know," she said turning to face him, placing her hands on his chest and fiddling with his lapel. "We could go down to the corner, I think there's a hotdog vendor there."

"But you hate street vendor hotdogs…," Castle objected, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "Plus I don't think I could handle watching you eat a hotdog right now… too much imagery for my poor little mind to handle."

"Aw, poor baby," she quirked up her lips and laughed softly, loving how he seemed so enthralled by her laughter. "Is that a request, Rick?" Beckett clicked her tongue on the end of his name.

Castle gulped and visibly grew flushed in arousal. But then that cocky smile spread over his lips and he looked up at her with his dark cobalt eyes. "Is that an offer, Kate?" he challenged.

Beckett held back a grin and patted his cheek. "You'll see," was all she said, before stepping back to allow both of them to "cool off". God, just teasing him now got her all hot and bothered—or maybe it was the hormones. Either way, she was currently turned on, which was a bad thing, since they were at work.

"Alright," Castle sucked in a deep breath and stood up, raking his fingers through his hair. "Lunch...?"

"Yeah, lunch," Beckett nodded, placing her hands on her tummy. "These two are starving… not to mention me."

"So… um… how about the taqueria down the street?"

"Juan's?" Beckett asked. "Is that where you got those burritos from that other night?"

Castle sat up and grinned. "I knew you loved those!"

"Shut up, Castle," she rewarded his glee with a little glare.

He wiggled his eyebrows, pleased with himself, as the small smile on his face told her. Taking a step closer to her, he tentatively placed an arm over her shoulder, glancing around to see if anyone was watching. Beckett chewed on her lower lip and grabbed her coat as they walked towards the elevator.

XXX

"Kate?"

"Castle!" growled Beckett as she stomped away from him, marching into the break room. She didn't even need to look back to know that he was following.

She could not believe he had just done that… and right in front of the boys and the Captain. God, she was so embarrassed. No. Mortified. Yes. Mortified was actually a better word for it. And like the child he was, he didn't even know what he had done. It aggravated her to no end. Turning around to face him, she planted her arms across her chest, her stance one of determination and power.

Castle faltered a bit when he stepped through the threshold of the door, his eyes taking in her, discovering that he was in trouble. Beckett clenched her jaw and her muscles tensed.

"Close the door," her voice was barely restrained with suppressed fury.

He gulped, clearly terrified. But he obeyed her request, shutting the door, and then, without instruction, closed the blinds, giving them absolute privacy. Part of her had been dreading this… the inevitable first fight. She knew it was coming. She just hadn't expected it to happen at work. Which, in the end, just made her more pissed.

She fumed, watching as he took a long calming breath, preparing for what was to come as he finished. Turning back to her, he looked up at her with his big soulful eyes, trying to soften her steel. It didn't work.

"I can't believe you just said that!" she snapped, breathing heavily through her nostrils.

"Kate…"

"No," Beckett shook her head. "No. You just don't get it... do you, Castle? This is my job! It's what I do."

Castle lowered his eyebrows, turning into serious Castle. She stammered, feeling the need to back up, not knowing what to expect. The times they had gotten into a heated argument, it was startling how different he was. Beckett was always unprepared for what was to happen when this occurred. She swallowed and waited.

"This is different, Kate," he huffed, breathing heavily, his frustration radiating off his every pore. "You are different. Damn it, don't you see that?"

Beckett scowled. "All because I've agreed to marry you doesn't mean I'm surrendering my free will!" Beckett struck back. "And last time I checked, it's still my life. Not yours!"

Castle took in a shaking breath and raked his fingers through his hair. "But it's not, Kate," he said, his voice pained and frustrated. "Not anymore."

"Oh," Beckett raised her eyebrow, suddenly realizing what he was going on about. "Oh…," she frowned, and glared at him. "What the hell?"

"Kate, you're pregnant," he protested. "You shouldn't be chasing after bad guys like this. Think about the twins."

She stalked up to him and slapped him across the face… slapped him hard. "How dare you," she seethed. It was low, so low of him to use the twins against her like this. Damn it, she knew what she was doing. She'd been trained for this. This had been her life. She knew what she was doing!

Beckett immediately turned her back to him, not wanting him to see the tears in her eyes. God, it hurt so much to slap him like that, especially when she knew, deep down, beneath her anger and stubbornness, that he was only trying to look out for her… and the twins.

She lowered her head against her chest, feeling ashamed, but not having the courage to turn around and take it back, and ask for his forgiveness. She couldn't take it back. Not now, when the course had been set. Heaving in a deep breath, she tried to calm herself, thankful that he remained silent.

Choking back her sobs, and blinking—clearing her eyes—Beckett straightened her back and shoulders and turned back to face him. His hand was up on his cheek, rubbing it tenderly. Her eyes flashed with regret, seeing the red mark her strike had left. But then she remembered what he'd done, how he had embarrassed her… that he was trying to make decisions for her. She might be pregnant, but she was still capable of making her own decisions.

"Castle, go home," Beckett ordered, her voice almost breaking as she remembered the last time she had said that. It had been after the summer, when they had reunited, her finding him over a body with a gun in his hand, handcuffing him and then heatedly interrogating him over more than just the murder.

"Kate?" his voice was soft, his eyes pleading.

"No," she shook her head, using her long hair to obscure her face from his eyes. "Just… just go home, Castle."

Beckett risked a glance up at him, watching as he swallowed hard and looked away in thought. He clenched his jaw tight and his eyes flirted up to her and he swallow again, nodding. "Alright…," Castle said, giving up. And then with that, saying nothing else, he left.

She stood there in complete shock. Never, in both their working and personal relationship, had she seen Castle give up so easily. It was unnerving. Her mouth dropped and she shook her head, completely confused. Turning away from the empty door, she placed her hands on the edge of the counter, supporting herself as she took in several deep breaths, attempting to recover from this fight. It had left more emotional blows than she had expected.

The sound of someone knocking on the door pulled her back out of her befuddled mind. She looked up, hurriedly wiping the tears from her eyes. "Yeah?"

Esposito respectfully looked away, giving her time to compose herself. When she took in his expression, she knew that he was curious about what had happened. Ryan and him had probably seen Castle storm out and leave. Thankfully, when he opened his mouth to speak, he left it alone.

"Ryan's track down the snake guy," he said. "Captain thinks the vic might have uncovered an endanger animal smuggling operation."

"That snake is an endanger species?" she asked, trying to chuckle, but any amusement she might have found at that was made mute by her emotionally draining argument with Castle.

Esposito nodded. "Yeah, from South America. So… you coming with us?"

Beckett hardened herself, steeling her emotions and doing what she did best, pushing away her personal feelings and bringing up Detective Beckett. "You bet, I wanna catch this scumbag," she said, pushing away from the counter and marching towards the door, prepared to go out and do her job.

XXX

She was shaking. Her whole body trembling with complete and utter horror. It was supposed to be a normal pick up of a suspect… granted they had been thinking he could be their guy. The autopsy report had come up after lunch, it had revealed a deadly toxin in the bloodstream that the lab techs then found out came from the very same endangered South American snake that they had found slithering around the corpse.

But the takedown of the animal smuggler had left Beckett rattled. She pushed her way into the restroom, leaving the interrogation to Esposito and Ryan. She needed to be alone right now. She needed to let what just happened to sink in and register with her mind.

Pounding through a stall door, she collapsed on the toilet seat and crumbled, allowing everything out as she relived everything, how close she had come.

When no answer came from the door, except the sounds footsteps scrambling away, Beckett had nodded to the boys. Esposito kicked the door down, and like normal (without thinking), she had charged in, gun raised. Ryan and Esposito were behind her, shouting out, identifying themselves as NYPD. Moving purely on instinct and training, Beckett surveyed the dark room, spotting the back door, hearing footsteps. Before the boys could take note, she was taking off after the suspect.

But something was wrong. When she turned the corner, she had somehow missed the sound of a shotgun clocking. Ryan had barely been in time to pull her back before the blast shot out. Her eyes had gone wide in terror, and one hand dropped to her middle. Realization struck her as Ryan and Esposito charge around the corner, guns raised, shouting, telling the smuggler to put the shotgun down. The man had complied, but Beckett had been left shaken. She had been in a breath's distance from getting shot, point blank in the chest, by a shotgun.

The memories of the encounter came flooding back to her as she broke down in the bathroom stall. God, Castle had been right! she screamed at herself. He was right. She was wrong. She sobbed mercilessly. She had been so stubborn, wanting to maintain her independence that she had put her unborn children in danger. Now she knew how Castle had felt, and why he had been worried. Hell, she was almost scared to death about what had almost happened. She vowed that she'd be more careful in the future, and would voluntarily take desk duty when she got further along (though she wondered if the Captain would force it on her early, due—in no small part—to how today had gone down).

Beckett didn't know how long she had been in there, but when she came out, Ryan was taking down the murder board, putting it in a case storage box, telling her that the perp had confessed to killing Greg Tennison when he had stumbled upon the smuggling operation. Esposito was taking the guy down to booking.

She nodded absently and went over to her desk, picking up her coat and purse. "If you don't need me, I'm going home… I… I have some broken fences to mend," she mumbled under her breath, glancing up to Ryan with a worried expression. She rarely talked personal stuff with them, but they were like brothers.

He nodded, giving her an understanding look. "Good luck," he offered softly.

A sad smile spread across her lips, wondering if he'd had similar arguments with Jenny when they discussed the possibilities of getting injured in the line of duty. "Thanks," she sniffled, and then pulled her coat on and grabbed her stuff. Glancing back, she saw Montgomery leaning against the doorframe into his office, watching her. She bit her lower lip, wondering, again, how long it was going to be until he benched her and put her on desk duty.

Getting into the elevator, she tugged her coat tighter, hugging herself and closing her eyes to keep back the tears and horror of what could have happened. She felt like a complete fool. If only she had listened to Castle.

Beckett was on autopilot, and almost drove herself back to her old apartment building before remembering she didn't live there anymore. Since she had been driving in the wrong direction, it took her over an hour to reach the Loft, and then another twenty minutes to get into the underground parking garage—she had forgotten the resident code to open the gates. Thankfully, Phil (the doorman) had been nearby, heard her loud cursing, and came to investigate. He quickly saw what the problem was and helped her out, punching in his code to open the gates up for her.

She gave him a quick thank you, then sped down into the garage and found a spot.

The ride up in the elevator seemed to take forever. She kept going through scenarios in her mind of how the rest of the evening would unfold. Beckett wanted to apologize and tell him he had been right, and that she'd be more careful… but nothing in her mind came up with any pleasant outcomes. She had the nagging feeling that this might be the first night since she moved in that she'd sleep alone.

When she finally arrived at the Loft, it was silent, saved for the stereo system. It was playing the 2nd Movement from Beethoven's 7th Symphony, which oddly almost felt appropriate. All the lights, except for some in the kitchen, were off. The glow coming from there softly illuminated the open lounge area.

Being as quiet as possible, Beckett slipped out of her coat, hung it up on the coatrack, and put her purse down on the door side credenza, along with her keys, which rattled and made more noise than she had been hoping. She froze, her eyes darting around to see if anyone would appear. When no one did, she relaxed, just a bit. She was still tense and overly jumpy due to how close she had come from getting shot.

She walked quietly across the open area, ignoring the stereo, figuring she'd probably come out to read some and unwind—if Rick was asleep—figuring it was best not to wake him if he was. And she needed something to help her relax. As she shuffled through the office, she decided she'd grab one of Rick's books. They had always helped her calm down and soothe her reeling thoughts (something she'd never tell him).

Pushing open the bedroom door, she paused, squinting in the dark. He wasn't there. Frowning, she tried to suppress the rising panic. Her mind quickly retraced her steps. It was dark, and the Loft was quiet except for Beethoven drifting out from the stereo systems in the open lounge area.

The couch.

Guilt rose up in her as she thought he had banished himself to the couch, thinking she would kick him out of bed once she had gotten back (if she had come back). She knew herself… at least, the old Beckett, who would have sulked and pouted, stubbornly refusing to admit her mistake, even when confronted head on with it. Now, this Beckett, the one Castle had helped make, wanted nothing more than to seek his forgiveness and crawl into bed with him, reminding herself that she was, in fact, still alive.

She flicked on the bedroom light and went to the walk in closet, depositing her shoes by the foot of the bed as she went. She stripped out of her work clothes and grabbed one of his large t-shirts she had taken to wearing to bed. Then, in nothing but her underwear and his t-shirt, Beckett padded back out to the living room. Approaching the couch with caution, she peered over the edge and her suspicions were confirmed.

Castle was on his back, his eyes closed, his chest slowly rising and falling as he slept. He didn't look peaceful, though… far from it. It looked like he was having nightmares. She couldn't blame her, especially with his over active imagination; she could only guess at the hundreds of scenarios his creative writer's mind was conjuring up.

Tiptoeing around the couch, Beckett hunted for the fancy universal remote. Locating it on the floor by the left arm of the couch, she fumbled around with the myriad of buttons and controls, before finally finding the dial that operated the stereo volume. She lowered the volume and then turned the stereo off. Placing the remote on an end table, Beckett returned her attention to the sleeping Rick Castle.

She smiled softly as she gazed down at him, secretly loving it when she got to watch him sleep. However, right now she wanted to wake him. His brow was creased in his sleep, and it was painfully obvious he was having a very, very bad dream. He was still dressed in his purple button down shirt and black slacks. His blazer was thrown across the back of the couch and his shoes rested, lopsided, underneath the coffee table, where a half drunk glass of—she sniffed it—scotch sat.

Bending over him, she ran her hand along the side of his face, feeling clammy and wet skin. Oh, she had really upset him, hadn't she? She wondered if he always got this anxious whenever they went into tense situations. Brushing his damp hair away from his brow, Beckett leaned over him and kissed his forehead, trying to soothe him.

Castle's head shook slowly, as if he was trying to deny the tender reassurance of her touch. After that, Beckett couldn't help herself, she climbed up onto the couch and wiggled her way into him, snuggling closer, her arms wrapping around him, needing to cling to him. She buried her face in his shoulder and breathed in his scent, needing him. Slowly, she moved her lips to his throat, and began to kiss him softly.

He unconsciously hummed in approval. Beckett bit her lower lip and smiled. She so very much loved having this power over him. Slinking her arms around him, Beckett buried herself more into him, wanting to simply cease the difference between them, wanting his warm embrace, to feel that affirmation of love and life that came when he held her.

Wetting her lips, she went back to work, tediously kissing her way up his throat, not really trying to wake him, just needing to taste him. Her heart thumped profoundly in her chest as her mouth made it's way up to his jaw and across his cheek, pausing at the corner of his mouth. She sucked on his lower lip slowly, before using her tongue to probe past his lips, opening his mouth and kissing him deeply as he slept.

A moan rumbled up from the bottom of his throat, traversing their connected mouths. Beckett groaned in want, and adjusted herself to straddle his sleeping form, moving her legs around his middle and gently bucking her hips against him. Castle gasped and his eyes opened wide in surprise, only to close when she descended on him again, ramming her mouth into his and kissing him even more deeply than she had been when he was sleeping.

His hands moved, traveling up and down the curve of her back as she continued to explore his mouth. They moaned and hummed together, sweetly swimming in the sensual motions of their bodies as they melded together in their embrace.

Beckett sighed and pulled back, resting her forehead against his as his hands came up to brush her hair back, his fingers tangling with her long brunette strands.

"Oh, Castle… Rick… I'm sorry," she murmured, sharing a breath with him. "Oh god… I am so sorry."

Before he could say anything, Beckett captured his lips in another kiss. This one filled with regret and longing. He held her to him, kissing her back, and then sighed, letting his body relax.

"What happened?" he asked gently as she settled her head against his chest, her ear resting above his heart, listening to its steady rhythm.

"You were right; I was wrong… is what happened," she groaned, shutting her eyes. "The perp, Castle… he… he took a shot at me—point blank, with a shotgun. I… I could have died. I… I… Oh, Castle?" The tears from her breakdown in the restroom back at the precinct returned and she turned her face into his shirt, wetting it with her tears.

Castle let out a breath and held her, letting her shed her tears against his shirt. Beckett lost herself in it, completely letting go. He was the only one, saved for perhaps her father, she did not mind seeing her like this. When she had cried herself dry, Beckett sniffled and wiped her eyes, taking in his wet shirt.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "You're shirt's all wet now."

"It's okay," he said, rubbing her back as she tilted her head up to look at him. "I'm sorry, too."

She knitted her eyebrows together, confused. "For what?"

"For leaving," Castle explained. "I… I was just so frustrated that you wouldn't listen that… that I couldn't take it." He paused, swallowing hard as he admonished himself. "I should have stayed."

"I was the one who shouted at you to leave, it… it wasn't your fault," Beckett replied, turning away to rest her head against his shoulder, breathing in his scent. She clutched at his shirt in a tight fist. "Do… do you forgive me?"

"You have nothing to be forgiven for, Kate," Castle said.

"Yes… I do!" Beckett snapped, pushing up to look down at him, baffled by his reaction. He should be gloating in his rightness now, not comforting her. "I'm a terrible mother, Rick." She placed her hands on her stomach. "I put the twins in danger by going out there and acting rashly. I… I should have been more reasonable and careful."

"Esposito and Ryan were there, and you made it out safe and sound," Castle said, sitting up to pull her into his lap. She resisted at first, but relented, leaning her head against his shoulder as she sighed in defeat. "They had your back and you're here now, ready to learn from what happened, not ignoring it."

She nodded. "I'll be more careful next time," she whispered. "I… I promise."

"Okay," he inclined his head, effectively ending the conversation. "You hungry? Have you eaten anything?"

She shook her head, no to both questions. He made a move to get up, but she held him down, not yet ready to let go and be removed from his warm embrace.

"Can… can we just stay here for a little while longer?" Beckett asked in a quiet voice, hating how weak and needy she sounded.

"Sure," Castle's warm voice replied. He kissed her on the temple and then leaned back, resting his back against the couch and allowing her to snuggle up against him.

Beckett closed her eyes as she laid her head against his chest, curling up, her arms wrapped around his waist, her legs tangling with his. "Rick?"

"Yes?" he rubbed his hand down her back in response, so affectionate and loving.

"I love you," she whispered. "Even when I'm a complete bitch… I love you."

His chuckle shook them and she smiled softly. "And I love you, Kate… Always," he kissed the top of her head. "Now, rest."

She sighed and obeyed him, closing her eyes and pushing away the images of nightmares, instead calling up the memories of being with him… and being loved.