Author's Note: And now for the conversation about Gina…

Nothing Lost

Chapter 43

Somewhat to Kate's surprise, they resumed the conversation about his past that same evening.

After they finished dinner—which Castle had made so her dad insisted on doing the cleaning and shooed them both away—Castle accompanied her outside to walk for a little while and then they settled on the bench on the front porch to watch the sunset.

Castle wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she leaned against him, nestling her head on his shoulder.

They sat in comfortable silence as they watched the streaks of pink and orange tint the sky. It occurred to her, not for the first time, that she hadn't realized Castle could be a restful companion too. She'd never really imagined being silent with him, the perennial talker, but she was learning every day that he could be quiet too. Maybe not as often or as long as she would sometimes like but she was starting to believe they really could make things work, even with their differences, meet in the middle with her need for quiet and space and his need for companionship and conversation.

The colors were starting to fade from the sky and she was starting to wonder a little at Castle's silence when, as if to prove her right, he broke it, although his voice was quiet. "This is the sort of thing I could never really do with Gina."

She jerked upright, turning to look at him in confusion. They hadn't really been doing anything. "What kind of thing?"

He waved a vague hand. "This, sitting quietly and watching the sunset. Plus, I'm pretty sure Gina would sooner streak naked through Times Square than she would willingly spend time this far away from any big city."

Something in his tone prevented her from smiling or feeling any amusement at the ridiculous mental image of his poised ex-wife and publisher streaking through Times Square.

She wasn't quite sure what to say but she knew she didn't like the faint frown between his brows, the shadows in his expression. He didn't look as if he were remembering something that had wounded him quite as deeply as Meredith had but what he was remembering was still not a pleasant memory and she didn't like to see him looking so troubled. "Well, you're not exactly Daniel Boone yourself," she teased mildly.

He blinked and then a bark of surprised laughter escaped him. "Touché."

She felt some of her tension flake away and after a moment, he sat back on the bench, tucking her against him again.

"Gina and I started dating when Alexis was around 9. I was… getting tired of being alone by then and starting to worry about Alexis and puberty and that sort of thing." He made a face and gave a small shudder. She patted his chest in half-teasing commiseration. She hadn't really thought about that aspect of Castle's single fatherhood.

"In hindsight, I suppose it was more about Gina being, well, convenient. That sounds terrible but you know what I mean. She was my editor at the time so we worked together closely and she's a businesswoman to her toes, very responsible, and I know that's not the most flattering adjective but after Meredith…"

Yes, she could understand that after Meredith's flightiness, her utter abdication of maternal responsibility, Castle would have wanted to ensure he didn't make the same mistake again.

"And Gina's very direct, forthright, so she isn't the type of person to cheat." He paused and then grimaced. "It wasn't as cold-blooded as I'm making it sound."

"I wouldn't think it was," she murmured. Cold-blooded was the last word she would ever think to apply to Castle. Castle, who might have the biggest, most generous heart of anyone she'd ever met. Castle, who was such a romantic. He was carefully skirting around any mention of what his feelings for either Meredith or Gina had been but she knew he must have loved them or at least thought he'd loved them at the time, no matter what had happened afterwards. She tamped down the little twinge she felt at the thought.

"Gina and I did get along and I cared about her. We share a lot of the same interests in books, as you might imagine, and she's very smart and knowledgeable about the mystery genre and the publishing industry. She made me a better writer."

Kate bit the inside of her lip. It was stupid—she knew it was stupid and entirely irrational—to feel this twist of something like jealousy. Gina was Castle's past and she had asked but in spite of all that, it wasn't exactly pleasant to hear him praising another woman. Or imagining him favoring Gina with one of his admiring looks or giving her one of his small private smiles.

"So we got married," he went on and then paused again. "It's a strange thing about relationships but sometimes, it's the very qualities that first drew you to a person that end up pushing you apart too."

"I know," she agreed quietly. It was what had happened to her and Will and Tom too. Although in her case, she had also deliberately sought them out for their steady qualities only to realize too late, in Tom's case certainly, that maybe she wasn't quite as willing to give up on her carefully-hidden hopes and dreams of a real love as she'd told herself she was.

She sensed his glance but for once, didn't meet it. And after a moment, he continued. "Gina's driven, committed to her job, but it turned out that those qualities that made her such a good editor didn't really translate into making her a good wife, at least not for me. Ironic, I suppose, but for all that we had in common, it turned out that when it came to the important things, we were actually very different, wanted different things."

"What do you mean?"

His lips twisted rather wryly. "Well, for one thing, I don't really like going out to fancy parties all the time. I enjoy them occasionally, wearing a tux and hiring a limo can be fun but as an everyday thing, I'd rather not. The same thing goes for eating out at restaurants; I like being able to go to places like Le Cirque or La Grenouille sometimes but I'm just as happy grabbing a burger at Remy's."

Yes, that made sense with what she knew of Castle now. She had wondered at first how a rich celebrity who was used to a glamorous party lifestyle had been willing to spend so much time in a dilapidated, not at all glamorous police precinct but had assumed it was just a novelty thing, having fun playing at being a cop—but then of course, she had kicked him out for looking into her mom's case. She had rather assumed he wasn't that sorry to leave, no longer being forced to spend most of his time slumming it in the dingy confines of the precinct. But then he'd come back to the precinct, come back to her, and showed every sign of wanting to stay.

And then too there was the way Castle had behaved around the other cops in the bullpen. He'd been well-liked. And she knew cops; for the most part, they were too hard-nosed and cynical to be overly impressed by wealth and they were more likely to judge men by what they contributed. (most cops being men, she was all too aware that they were not nearly as clear-sighted or unbiased when it came to women.) But other cops, the uniforms, people like LT and Karpowski, had accepted Castle as being, if not quite one of their own, on the same side. Castle had won over Ryan, Captain Montgomery, even Esposito—and she had enough respect for all of them as judges of character to know it wouldn't have happened if Castle had been any sort of snob or as much the celebrity playboy he'd acted like at first.

"It sounds very shallow, put like that," he began.

"No," she interrupted. "I understand. It means you and Gina valued different things." She remembered something her mom used to say, that money didn't change people, it revealed them, showed what they thought was important. And Castle, she was starting to understand, as much as he might like having money, didn't view it as an end, in and of itself. He liked being able to do things for the people he cared about, liked being able to provide security for his daughter and his mother, but beyond that, his wealth was rather like another toy, not a necessity or inherently meaningful to him. Meredith had obviously viewed money differently and she suspected Gina did too.

He shot her a small smile. "Yes, exactly. I'm not saying Gina married me for my money or my fame; she didn't really but at the same time, she liked the fact that I had money and fame and wanted to enjoy it. Part of it was because she's a businesswoman and being spotted at places like Le Cirque usually means a mention in Page Six or some tabloid and Gina knows that publicity is good for book sales. She wanted what was best for me, or at least my career, but after a while, I started to feel like it was only about my career." His lips twisted. "We fought about it. I accused her of caring only about my career and not about me and she accused me of shutting her out of everything else in my life."

Everything else in Castle's life—but as Kate knew very well now, the most important part of Castle's life was Alexis. "You fought about Alexis?"

He winced a little. "Yeah. She said I built a wall around Alexis, didn't really allow her to play a role in Alexis's life." He made a rueful face. "She wasn't wrong. I wasn't—I didn't really think about it that way but I didn't know how to share Alexis. It had been so many years when it was just me and Alexis. I was used to being not just Alexis's only parent but her best friend and I didn't really know how to trust anyone else with Alexis. And I suppose I was afraid of losing Alexis as she grew older and more interested in, well, girl stuff, the sort of thing that I don't really know about."

He sighed. "I used to worry about all that so much. I still do, to be honest. It was easier when she was little and the most I really had to worry about was the fact that I didn't know how to do a French braid for her hair. I even spent a morning at a nail salon and learned how to put on nail polish so I could teach Alexis—but if you ever tell the boys that, I'll deny it," he digressed.

"Your secret's safe with me," she promised as solemnly as if taking an oath, even as warmth flooded her chest. Later, it occurred to her that if she hadn't already fallen for him, this one single moment, this admission, might have sealed her heart's fate. It wasn't even that the mental image of Castle in a nail salon—no doubt looking even more broad-shouldered and masculine in such feminine surroundings—was a surprisingly attractive one. It was more about the strength it took for him to make such an admission of vulnerability, the depth of trust he was showing—plus the very Castle-like quip at the end.

But at the moment, she didn't immediately think of that, another concern intruding. "Are you really okay that Alexis and I have been talking more?" In the last week or so, Alexis had called her twice, once simply to report on the talk she'd had with Ashley in which Ashley had apologized, promising to do better, and they'd reached a rapprochement, a little cautious at least on Alexis's side, Kate guessed, and then again because Alexis had wanted to ask about college in general and Stanford in particular. It surprised her a little but Alexis seemed ready and willing to treat Kate as something like a friend and mentor, or perhaps something like an older cousin. It was not a role Kate was accustomed to playing; she and her actual cousin Sophia were not very close, the decade gap in their ages was hard to overcome. But with Alexis, well, Kate could hardly say no and she didn't really want to because she did care about Alexis.

Castle turned to her, eyes wide with dismay. "Of course I am! I told you I was okay with it and I meant it."

"But you just said, with Gina…"

"You're different," he said simply.

She didn't know how such a simple statement could make her heart soften so much. Or maybe it wasn't just the words but also the way he said them, so unhesitatingly, as if he were stating a basic fact of the universe like the sun rising in the east.

"And I suppose, I'm different now," he went on after a moment. "Alexis is older now and more independent anyway so I've had to adjust. And then since my mother moved in with us a few years ago, my mother isn't someone I could have kept away from Alexis even if I'd tried, and to do my mother justice, she's always been good for Alexis, even before she moved into the loft. But all that aside, I trust you. If I could pick anyone in the world to give Alexis advice, I'd probably pick you as it is. You're smart and sensible and caring." He paused and flashed a sudden, slightly crooked smile, "More sensible than I am so Alexis would probably be better off listening to you."

She would never have imagined blushing so hotly and feeling her insides flutter at being called sensible but she did. She couldn't help but smile. "Don't sell yourself short, Castle; Alexis is what she is now because of you."

"No, she's what she is now because of herself; I mostly tried not to get in the way."

"Don't be silly."

"Well, if you insist, I'm happy to take the credit for Alexis turning out to be so perfect. Clearly I'm amazing," he agreed with one of his old cocky smirks. "In fact, feel free to keep telling me just how great I am and I promise not to make a sound of protest."

Now she rolled her eyes, sternly biting back the indulgent smile that threatened to escape. (Really, when had she started to find his displays of cockiness so… adorable?) "Don't push it, Castle."

He widened his eyes and favored her with a look of so much entreaty that it could probably have persuaded birds out of their nests. "Please, Beckett?"

Oh, she knew where this might lead; he was obviously more than willing to leave the subject of Gina and revert to his preferred means of distraction by drawing her into one of their teasing back-and-forths. But as tempting as the idea was, she resisted it. It was only procrastinating the rest of the conversation about Gina and it would be easier, better, to get it over with now that they'd begun.

"So you and Gina disagreed about your career and about Alexis?" she prompted mildly.

He sobered and accepted the return to seriousness. "Yeah, those were the main issues. There were other smaller irritations." He paused and then made a small moue of regret. "By the end, well, I don't think either of us liked the other much. We couldn't seem to agree on anything until we agreed to divorce. She moved out of the loft and that was that." He released a breath. "So now you know the sordid truth about my failed marriages," he finished with brittle nonchalance.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." He pasted on an attempt at one of his insouciant smirks. A weak attempt and even so, she could see past it by now. "It hurt for a while but I survived and learned my lesson." He paused and then dropped the pretense, his expression shifting to become more like the Castle she'd become accustomed to lately, the real man. "Not my proudest moments, to say the least."

She hesitated but the story of his relationship with Gina hadn't ended with their divorce. "And last year, when you got together with her again, how did that happen?"

"Loneliness and stupidity," he answered succinctly after a moment.

Oh, his admission of loneliness startled her a little, her heart clenching, but it occurred to her it might not be that surprising. Castle might know a lot of people, 'know a guy' just about everywhere as he liked to joke, but she couldn't imagine many of them were real friends. And with his money and his fame, he was certainly smart enough to suspect people's motives and as she was starting to realize, Castle didn't trust that easily and after Meredith and all those women on the party circuit, had good reason not to trust easily.

At least now, neither of them would have to be lonely again. The thought darted into her mind, surprising her because it occurred to her that she really believed it.

He grimaced and released a brief sigh. "Well, obviously, Gina and I still work together so after our divorce, we patched together a marginally functional working relationship. And Gina helped me with the writer's block I was going through at the time and for a while, it seemed like some of the old spark was back. There's a comfort in spending time with someone you know well and we still shared a lot of interests, knew a lot of the same people. It made things easier—but in the end, well, there's a reason we got divorced in the first place and that hadn't changed. For all her good qualities, she just wasn't what I wanted and it wasn't fair to either of us to drag it out so we broke up, again, for good this time." He made a rueful face. "It was a stupid idea to begin with."

"No, Castle," she hurriedly assured him. "It wasn't stupid." She might not be thrilled at the idea that he'd dated Gina again—although she was aware she had no right to be bothered by it, especially considering she'd been dating Tom at the time—but she didn't think it had been stupid. "You don't give up on people; you forgive, give them second chances." She paused and then added, more quietly, "You didn't give up on me, even though I gave you every reason to."

His expression became tender. "I could never give up on you, Kate. I realized that a long time ago. I don't know exactly when it happened but somehow, I think you became imprinted on my soul."

She felt stupid tears pricking at the back of her eyes, her throat too tight with emotion to speak, so instead she lifted a hand to cup his cheek, feeling the faint rasp of his evening stubble against her skin. And then she kissed him, her hand sliding back to allow her fingers to play with the hair at the nape of his neck, and she felt a little shiver of reaction go through him before he abruptly deepened the kiss. Oh, he liked it when she played with the ends of his hair like that.

It was the last coherent thought she had in some minutes as everything else was blotted out by the workings of his lips and his tongue. Until they broke apart at the sound of an owl hooting in the darkness, sounding startlingly close in the stillness of the night.

They were both breathing rather fast as they sat back on the bench. Kate felt a momentary thankfulness for the way the temperatures dropped once it got dark, the cool air pleasant against her somewhat heated skin.

"Have I told you that you're really good at that?" Castle asked half-humorously after a moment.

She snorted. "Thank you. It's a skill," she responded dryly.

"Of course, a kiss does take two people so maybe it's just that we're good together."

She met his smile with one of her own. "I can agree to that."

There was another long pause as their gazes held, their smiles slowly fading to something softer.

Castle's expression became thoughtful before he asked, "Can I ask you something, Kate?"

"Of course," she agreed. After all, she'd been the one asking him to lay bare his personal life today so she could hardly do anything less but try to be just as open as he had already been.

In spite of her agreement, he hesitated for a moment, his expression giving her a moment's warning before he went on, "I wasn't going to ask but since we've been talking about it, will you tell me about Sorenson and Demming?"

It was her turn to stiffen, even as the mention of Tom's name made her blink. "How did you—" she broke off with a grimace. "Remind me to buy a muzzle for my dad," she huffed.

"Don't blame Jim," Castle hurriedly defended. "He hasn't said a word about that sort of thing. It was actually Ryan."

"Ryan," she repeated in a tone that did not bode well for Ryan's continued health. "I see I'm going to need to talk with him."

"It wasn't his fault, really. He just mentioned Demming's name in passing when he was talking about why he was concerned about you but he didn't tell me anything more, not really. It's why I asked." He shrugged a little, giving her one of his innocent puppy looks, the ones he so often resorted to when he wanted to soften her mood. The annoying thing was that it worked more effectively than she cared to admit. Oh, damn.

She supposed she could forgive Ryan too.

And, well, Castle had a right to know about her past relationships too, all the more so since he'd just told her about his. It was only fair. She mentally grimaced but accepted the necessity to answer Castle's question.

"You already know about Will. We met on a case and were together until he got a job offer in Boston and that was that," she eventually answered briefly.

"He left you for work?"

"It meant a promotion and was a great opportunity for him," she explained, falling back on the rational reasons, the ones she had told herself she entirely understood in the weeks and months following Will's departure and ignoring the fact that what was rational didn't mean that much where her emotions were concerned.

"He didn't ask you to go with him?"

"He did, once, but we both knew it wasn't possible. I couldn't leave my dad alone, couldn't leave the city." The city where her mom had died, the city that had to hold the answers to her mom's case—not that she had consciously thought about that at the time. "Leaving would have essentially meant starting over again; it would have set me back a few years in making detective, especially without Captain Montgomery." She broke off, a pang of renewed grief hitting her at the mention of the Captain's name. She might have earned her promotion but she also knew it would likely have taken longer if she hadn't had Captain Montgomery's support behind her, his recommendation.

"And after he got back to the city? It was clear Sorenson still cared about you two years ago." He paused, a shadow crossing his face as he averted his gaze and she realized he was remembering that had also been around the same time when he had told her he'd looked into her mom's case and she had kicked him out, ending their fledgling friendship, their relationship.

Why had she wanted to talk about their pasts? She hated talking about her personal life. She tried not to visibly flinch as she remembered those months two years ago, the emotions flooding back—but no, everything was different now. Castle had come back and they were here, together, even after everything that had happened. She steeled herself and reached out to grasp his hand. He had told her about Meredith, after all, and she had little to tell.

"He did ask, when he got out of the hospital."

Castle let out a breath. "I knew he would. I can't imagine anyone you would date could be stupid enough to let you go twice." He was still not meeting her eyes, a trace of bleakness and jealousy in his expression.

She tightened her grasp on his hand. "I said no," she assured him quickly before his imagination could wander far down the path of Will comforting her after Castle had upset her. She could see the worry, the fear, of just that in his expression.

What she did not mention was that she'd considered Will's offer for a moment, been tempted to accept it, because she knew Will and knew he was a good guy who would never break past the boundaries she set. In the roiling welter of ugly emotion she'd been in at the time―hurt and anger and betrayal and under it all, the terrible pull of her mom's case, her desperate need to know who and why, threatening to pull her into the rabbit hole all over again—Will had seemed so… easy, so calming, in comparison to Castle. But she'd retained just enough clarity of mind to realize that if she said yes to Will, it would have been because of Castle, like revenge dating to leap to the first man who asked her out after Castle had hurt her. Using someone for a revenge-sex one night stand might, possibly, have been an option even if she'd stopped having one night stands long ago but she couldn't do that to Will, not with their history, not knowing Will the way she did. So she'd said no and goodbye to Will and walked away without regret.

Castle jerked his eyes back to meet hers.

"It wouldn't have been right," she added after a moment, relenting to the curiosity in his eyes that he was heroically not putting into words. "Will and I had both already moved on after our break-up; it was only nostalgia that had Will thinking we should try again anyway."

"I don't know if I agree with that," Castle said, although he looked more cheerful. "I saw the way Sorenson looked at you and I, of all people, know what it's like to try to forget you. It'd be easier to make the tides stop."

A little flare of warmth blossomed in her chest, a small smile touching her lips almost of its own volition. "Well, I heard through the grapevine that Will started seeing someone a few months after that so there was no lasting damage."

Now Castle smirked. "I guess Sorenson is dumber than I thought."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "He's not dumb."

Castle made a little pouting grimace. "Can we agree to disagree on that?"

"Castle." Really, the man just never stopped pushing, did he? And why didn't she find it more annoying?

"Fine," he sighed in a tone of someone making a great concession. "He's not dumb." He paused and then added, "What about Demming? Will you at least tell me he's dumb?"

"His name is Tom and no, he's not dumb either." She shot him a look. "I don't date stupid men and if you really think I would, what does that say about you?"

"Beckett," he protested in something approaching a whine. "You know that's not what I meant. I only meant that any guy who'd leave you has to be an idiot."

"You've made your point. Now stop."

He heard the edge in her voice and stopped, shutting his mouth with a snap, his expression shifting from remorse to seriousness until he looked as sober as the proverbial judge. This was what was so disarming about him after all.

"Tom and I met last spring, worked together on a couple cases. He's a robbery detective, friends with Espo from back when Espo was at the 54th. He's nice, a good guy and a good cop." She paused and then added, "He's tall, dark-haired, very good-looking." She stopped, biting her lip to keep a smirk from escaping. Now they were even for his bout of silliness.

She sobered. Even now, she still didn't like to remember Tom's expression when she'd broken up with him, the clench in her gut as she'd abruptly realized that Tom had been much more deeply emotionally involved than she'd realized. She'd known she'd been keeping him at a distance and she had stupidly assumed he knew and was fine with it because he wasn't interested in much more either.

"I really liked him but I realized he wasn't what I was looking for so I ended it." She sighed. "I hurt him. I didn't mean to but I know I did. He cared about me more than I thought he did—cared about me more than I cared about him and I didn't even realize it until I saw how hurt he was." She met Castle's eyes, tried for a small smile and didn't quite succeed. "I did warn you that I'm bad at relationships, right?"

"You're saying that to me now when you know about Meredith and Gina?" he asked in exaggerated incredulousness. "I know how competitive you are, Beckett, but I think it's clear that I have a much worse track record in relationships than you do. I married the human equivalent of a deep-fried Twinkie, remember?"

A laugh escaped her almost against her will at this description of Meredith. Although knowing what she did about what Meredith had done to him, she thought it was a much kinder description than Meredith deserved. And he'd done it again, made her laugh, distracted her and lifted her spirits.

He smiled briefly at her laugh before he sobered, drawing her in to kiss her quickly before he straightened and met her eyes. "The way I see it, Beckett, our problems with relationships up until now have all been because we were with the wrong people. We're with the right people now so all of our issues with relationships before aren't a problem anymore."

The rational part of her mind tried to speak up with a protest that it wasn't that simple but for once, it was drowned out in the surge of hope. "The right people, huh," she tried to drawl. "Are you sure about that?"

He heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Skeptical Beckett strikes again. Well, never mind. Because I—" he leaned down until his lips were barely an inch away from hers, their breaths mingling, "have every intention of convincing you."

Her heart stuttered in her chest, her breathing becoming shaky. "You can try," she managed.

A smirk sparkled in his eyes—and then she could no longer see because her eyes had drifted closed and he was kissing her.

Yes, she did believe that they were each other's "right person." Somehow, in spite of everything, their differences, all they'd been through—or maybe because of everything—she believed in them.

~To be continued…~

A/N 2: As always, thank you to everyone for reading and reviewing, especially the guests whom I can't thank directly.