Chapter 9

Rick stood in front of the stove making sure that everything he was cooking was not burning or otherwise in peril. Everything had gone so well to that point he didn't want to ruin it at the last minute by not paying attention, which had happened several times in the past. He stirred and flipped, checked and double checked, and then swiftly began to plate everything before another type of disaster could take place: overcooked food!

As he worked, he heard the doorbell ring and requested his daughter answer it, knowing it would be one of his two guests that evening. She did so, and he looked up to see Kate stepping into the foyer, looking as lovely as always in dark jeans with a cream color top that appeared to have some sort of lacing around the neck and sleeves. Her hair, which she'd lightened from the dark color with hints of mauve she had when they met (again) to more of what he remembered of her natural tone: a medium brown with some lighter highlights, was clipped back on one side making her look rather youthful. Or perhaps she just appeared to look younger because for the first time in a week she didn't look completely stressed. That was one of his main reasons for organizing their little dinner: to celebrate the end of a very challenging double homicide case.

"Kate; welcome. You look lovely as always."

"Oh, ah, thank you. I brought, um, some wine. I hope red is okay."

"Actually, we're having fish so I have some white chilling, but that just gives you an excuse to come back another time and drink the red," he said with a wink. She laughed and gave a little shrug before setting the wine bottle on the counter.

A minute later, Rick finished what he could of their dinner plating and walked over to make sure his daughter was settling Kate in okay. As it turned out, she appeared to be giving her a full explanation of the table and their usual place settings.

"…Dad always sits there, and I usually sit here but tonight I'll sit with Gram so that you can sit by Dad."

"Well that's very nice, thank you Alexis. But…who's going to sit there?" Kate asked, pointing to the fifth place setting.

"Ah, um, we have another guest coming," Rick informed her, as he stepped up behind them and casually slid his hands into his jean pockets.

Kate turned around and he saw her brow was knitted. "Who?"

"Your father."

"M-m-my father?"

"Yep."

"Wha…WHY?" she bleated out, clearly stunned.

Before Rick could respond, Rick's mother Martha descended the stairs in her usual ethereal manner and greeted their guest warmly. "Oh Katherine, darling, so nice to see you again." She walked over to the stunned woman, pulled her into a hug, and asked, "Is your father here?"

Clearing her throat, Kate turned to the writer and said, "Um, no, and Rick was just about to explain why he's coming at all."

"Oh, Richard—you didn't tell her."

Rick frowned at his mother's scolding tone. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

"What? What is the surprise?" Kate challenged.

"Surprise: I invited your father to dinner."

Kate appeared unamused. "But why?"

"So, we could all have dinner together."

"Rick!"

"What?" he half-laughed in response to her frustrated tone.

She stepped towards him and stabbed her index finger in his direction. "You haven't spoken to my father in over eleven years. Why is he coming to dinner here?"

He gave a bit of a guilty shrug. "Ah, well I thought it was a good idea for us to make amends, especially since the last time he saw me I…" His gaze drifted towards his daughter, who stared at him curiously, and he quickly adapted his statement to a more "PG Rated" one. "I wasn't making the best impression." In truth, he wanted to make sure he had made amends in every way possible for his past indiscretions, not just so he had a clearer conscience, but specifically with regards to Kate. He realized how lucky he was that she allowed him to shadow her team once again and he did not want to take that for granted. Plus, things had been going well for them. Very well. He almost felt like they were drawing closer together and he did not want anything to disrupt his chances of progressing their relationship, particularly since he really, really enjoyed spending time with her.

Before anything more could be said, another ring of the doorbell was heard and Rick said, "Oh good, he's here."

Rick hurried to the door and opened it swiftly with the warm greeting of, "Hello! Welcome!" He then stepped aside to allow Kate's father to enter the apartment. The elder man was smaller than he remembered him to be and definitely older looking. Not just because a decade had passed, either. Jim Beckett seemed weary somehow. Then again, Rick supposed that might have been a lingering factor of the man's bout with alcoholism.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," he said as he stepped inside. "The subway car stopped for ten minutes without moving and every stop after that seemed delayed."

Rick shook off the apologies. "No worries, you're here now and dinner is just about ready." He led the way to the dining area and did all the introductions. "This is my mother, Martha, my daughter, Alexis, and of course Kate."

The detective waved awkwardly. "Hi Dad."

He nodded to her. "Katie."

"Alexis, this is Mr. Beckett; Miss Kate's father."

"Nice to meet ya," the eight-year-old said while giving him more of a salute than a wave.

Rick excused himself to the kitchen to finish plating their meals. As he worked, he glanced back to the dining area where he saw Kate and her father standing off to the side speaking in what appeared to be hushed tones since he couldn't hear them at all. This amused him as he could only imagine what they were discussing, probably something along the lines of how did Rick get your number (a feat even he was proud of) and why did you agree to come here (thanks to his endless charms, of course!). Thankfully, by the time he was bringing over their plates a minute later they'd taken the seats Alexis had directed them to.

"Can I get anyone some wine?" Rick asked, enjoying his moment as the courteous host.

"No, thank you," Jim said.

"Yes, please," Kate said when he looked at her.

When he looked towards his mother, she already had her glass raised in request. "Fill 'er up, kiddo."

Rick obliged all the requests and poured himself a glass as well before taking his seat at the head of the table. He offered a toast to their new friends, and then everyone began to eat his meal of flounder, seasoned rice, and some veggies on the side. He'd forgotten to cut up Alexis's steamed broccoli and she politely asked that he do so. While he did, the young girl turned her attention to the man who sat across from her.

"You're Miss Kate's dad."

"I am."

"And you know my dad?" she asked in a way that made it seem like there was a fathers-only clubhouse where they all hung out.

"Sort of. We were all on a summer vacation together a long time ago."

"It's where I met Miss Kate, pumpkin," he said while sliding her plate with cut up broccoli back in front of her. "She and her family were vacationing together while I was visiting Gram as she did one of her shows."

Alexis nodded and continued her line of questioning, "Do you live close by?"

"Fairly close."

"He's a professor at NYU," Kate said.

Alexis's eyes widened. "Wow really? You must be really smart!"

Jim chuckled. "I don't know about that. I am about some things, I suppose."

Alexis put down her fork, leaned back in her seat, and swung her legs back and forth as they didn't quite reach the floor when her back was pressed against the rear of the chair. "I might want to be a teacher when I grow up too. Or a writer like my dad. Or an actress like my Gram."

Jim smiled kindly at her. "Well the good news is you don't have to decide now. You could be any of those or all of them!"

Alexis considered this very seriously for a minute then shook her head. "I don't think I'd have time to be all of them—that would be a lot of work!" She proclaimed and all the adults chuckled.

For the remainder of the meal, Alexis and Martha shared the duties of keeping everyone entertained. After Rick presented dessert (a tarte he'd picked up at one of his favorite bakeries), Martha took the young girl upstairs for a bath before bedtime, leaving the two Becketts and Rick still seated around the table.

"Can I get anything else for anyone—drink? More dessert?"

Jim shook his head and patted his belly. "No, no thank you I'm quite full. Everything was delicious. And I have to thank you for inviting me—it was quite an unexpected surprise but I'm glad I came."

"I am too." Rick's gaze darted towards the stairs then back to his guests. "And now that little ears aren't listening, I must confess my reasoning for this was to apologize to you."

Jim appeared taken a back. "To me?"

Rick nodded, folded his hands, and rested them on the edge of the table beside his empty dessert plate. "Yes, I…I know that the last time we saw each other was not my finest hour and I wanted to apologize for my behavior. I should not have run off like I did, and I definitely should not have disappeared without leaving so much as a note behind. It was improper and immature and though I've already apologized to Kate I felt it was appropriate to apologize to you as well—for being rude and causing confusion and hurt."

For a solid five seconds Jim didn't react; he was clearly too stunned. Then, he began to look rather impressed, which had Rick's racing heart calming to a steady patter.

"Oh. Well. I certainly appreciate that." Jim leaned back in his chair and glanced at his daughter with a soft smile. "It was always…unsettling for me as a father to know that my daughter's first experience ended with-"

"Wha—" Kate croaked as Rick felt his face flush.

Oops was all he could think. As he and Kate had a conversation prior to the event, he knew that he wasn't her first. He very much doubted she and her father had an open dialogue about her sexual history, but she had been out of high school at the time they got together, so surely Jim would have realized…then again, from the look on his face, evidently not.

"Um, Dad," Kate said, her ears turning a rosy pink, "that wasn't—I mean, Rick wasn't—we…yeah…" She cut off her speech with a rather pitiful look in Rick's direction. He fought the urge to laugh, not as much at her pain as the recollection of his own. When his mother had discovered his sexually active status she'd presented him with a box of condoms and the friendly reminder that women's orgasms were important too.

Jim, also blushing, cleared his throat. "Oh. I see. My mistake. Nevertheless, a father never likes to see his daughter's heart getting broken, so I'm pleased to see that you've matured into a responsible man."

Kate snorted. "Matured may be a bit strong of a term," she muttered.

Rick flashed her a grin. "Matured just the right amount?"

"Something like that."

Turning back to Jim he said, "You're right, though. Now that I have a daughter myself, if something like that were to happen to her…let's just say weapons might likely be involved." Not that Alexis was ever going to have sex. Or kiss boys. Or date them. She could just live in her room decorated with pink flowers and unicorns forever, thank you very much. But if any boy did dear to break her heart? He'd pummel the bastard.

Jim merely chuckled. "I certainly can appreciate that urge."

Standing beside the sink in Rick's kitchen, Kate delicately dried a frying pan with a towel before setting it aside and reaching for the spatula to dry it next. She wasn't exactly sure why she felt the urge to volunteer to help Rick wash the dishes that couldn't be put in the dishwashing machine, particularly after his insistence she didn't have to stay. She merely felt compelled to. And perhaps she was avoiding going home just a little bit. Her apartment was in desperate need of a cleaning and she had barely any clean laundry left, but that's what usually happened after a very in-depth investigation like the one they'd just finished. At least she had two days off to catch up on her domestic duties before she had another shift.

"Thanks for this; you really didn't have to stay and help," Rick said as he handed off the last utensil that needed trying.

She shrugged one shoulder and insisted, "But I wanted to."

He leaned his hip against the counter as he gazed over at her. "Didn't want to leave the fun behind?"

She scoffed. "Oh yes, having my father bring up my virginity is always my definition of fun…" More like completely and utterly mortifying! She had no idea that her father thought the night rick snuck out of the cabin was her first time though it did explain why he seemed to be disproportionally edgy about the event. She was fairly certain her mother knew she had sex with her grunge rocker boyfriend due to a condom wrapper that had been carelessly left behind, but evidently her parents had not discussed it. Not that she was mad about that per say; that evening had merely been an unexpected method for her to discover the truth.

Rick cringed. "Yeah…sorry about that, but it is kind of funny if you think about it."

She arched a dubious eyebrow at him. "Really? In what possible way is this funny?"

"Um…well it makes the incident in the cabin far less serious. I wasn't the boy who conned you into your first time and then stole away into the night."

"So, it's funny for you."

"Exactly."

"Okay." She turned back to the wooden spoon she was patting dry and scrubbed at it with a bit more force than necessary. She wasn't really all that annoyed he found her discomfort amusing, but thinking back to his statement she realized how incorrect it was. Even during her most innocent high school days no boy could have "conned" her into bed. She had actually been the one to bring it up to the grunge rocker who was her first, mostly because in her rebel stage she'd wanted to "get it over with" and appear cool, though underneath she'd been a little nervous. Absolutely no one could have talked her into it if she hadn't wanted to, though; not even Rick Castle.

The writer bumped his elbow against her arm saying, "Hey c'mon; don't be grumpy. Your dad seemed to take it well."

Adding the wooden spoon to the pile of utensils she turned to him with a pointed look, "Oh yeah about that – never, under any circumstances, invite my father to something without telling me."

"Why?"

"I don't like surprises."

"I know that, but where's the fun in life if nothing surprising ever happens?"

She huffed out a breath and shook her head while staring him down. "You're… exasperating."

He grinned. "I know."

Grumbling, she smacked him in the face with the drying towel she held and said, "Here. You can finish putting those away yourself; I'm going home."

As she walked towards the apartment entryway, he scurried after her. "I like this you, you know?"

"This 'me'?"

"Yeah. Less uptight cop more…relaxed."

Though Kate recognized that she felt more relaxed around Rick (when he wasn't purposely trying to annoy her, that was) she'd never give him the satisfaction of admitting it aloud so she merely hummed and continued on her way out of the apartment.

"You should come to dinner here more often."

"What?"

Rick stopped in front of her, and that time spoke in a tone that indicated his comment was not off the cup; it was a serious invitation. A request, even. "You should come to dinner here more often. If you want to."

Kate felt her cheeks heat from the intensity of his stare. He wanted her to come to dinner more often? What did that mean? Surely, he wasn't implying that they should be going on dates. They had gone down that road and she had been extremely clear on her position on revisiting it. She supposed he could have meant in a friendly sort of way, but to what end? She wasn't entirely sure, so she decided to take a leaf out of his playbook and make a joke about it instead of taking it seriously. "Oh, I…I mean, don't I see enough of you during the day?"

Amused, he asked, "Do you? C'mon, where's the harm in dinner a few times a month. It'll keep a few less Chinese food cartons from piling up in your fridge."

She clicked her tongue with annoyance. "They don't pile up. I clean them out once a week."

"Uh huh."

As he continued to stare at her, she knew she'd need to relent to end their conversation so she gave in slightly. "I…suppose it would be okay to have dinner with you once a month."

"Four times."

"No! That's weekly!"

He stared her down, refusing to blink. "Three times."

"Maybe."

"Kate," he grumbled.

Not wanting him to have the satisfaction of winning, she merely said, "Goodnight, Rick. Thanks for dinner," and then walked out of his apartment before he had the chance to rebut.