Author's Note: The next chapter based on "Vampire Weekend," this one featuring Feggin, the baby egg. Enjoy!

Then Came Love

Chapter 27

Kate had called up the state psychiatrist's office to have them send someone over to do a psychological evaluation of Morgan Lockerby and Dr. Holloway, one of the psychiatrists, showed up the next morning for a conversation, of sorts, with Lockerby. Although the conversation was entirely one-sided since she couldn't make anything out of Lockerby's ramblings.

As she was walking Dr. Holloway back out to the bullpen, she also thought to have him take a look at the victim's graphic novel about Lockerby to see if that would provide any insight.

She blamed her distraction and her focus on Dr. Holloway's analysis of the graphic novel for the fact that she didn't sense Castle's arrival, as she usually did, and was surprised to hear his voice. Surprised and, yes, pleased, a little spurt of warmth bubbling up inside her chest, also as usual these days.

"Doc Holloway, this is Richard Castle," she introduced.

"Doc Holloway," she heard Castle's voice from just over her shoulder and then his tone shifted and she felt the warmth of his hand on her shoulder and an egg with a face on it–what the hell?-appeared on her shoulder. "Say hello to the nice psychiatrist, Feggin. Hello," his voice changed register yet again.

Dr. Holloway was–no surprise–gaping at Castle as if he'd never seen such a thing–which he very likely hadn't because what grown man introduced an egg to someone? And what the hell had gotten into Castle now? She might tease him about being crazy but this was the first time she'd actually wondered if there might be truth to it.

"I will, um, send someone from Social Services to come get Mr. Lockerby," Dr. Holloway managed distractedly and then darted his eyes to her as he added sotto voce, "And if you want, I can have someone get him too."

Now she hid a smile, mouthing, "No thanks."

Dr. Holloway left and it occurred to Kate that it was probably a good thing that the state psychiatrist's office had strict rules about confidentiality or Castle would probably be facing a raft of publicity questioning his sanity, and not in a good way.

"Are you gonna eat that?" she tossed at Castle. It would still be weird but not entirely unheard of to talk to one's food, right? And what else was there to do with an egg?

"Eat my own grandchild?" Castle asked in (un)feigned horror. "What am I, a monster?"

His what now? "Maybe that bite was catching," she observed–and maybe his joke from weeks ago that his inherited medical condition was insanity from his mother's side wasn't all that far off. Well, sort of.

"It's a school health science project," Castle explained in more normal tones, (thankfully) reverting back to making sense. "Helping to deromanticize having a family before you're ready to take responsibility."

She froze. Oh. Heat flared in her cheeks. Because how responsible was it to have unprotected sex and end up pregnant? Her hand automatically came up to her stomach and his eyes dropped to it as his eyes widened. "No, not like that. It has nothing to do with, well, us. I know it seems a little too coincidental but Alexis assured me it was a real thing and she hasn't told anyone at school anyway and I believe her so it really is just coincidence. A weird coincidence," he added, "but a coincidence. Besides, we're not teenagers who don't know what they're getting into."

They might not be teenagers and he might know what he was getting into with the parenting thing but her, not so much. She was blindly following the advice of her doctor and from the pamphlets and books her doctor had recommended as far as what to eat and how much to exercise but being anywhere close to knowing how to be a mom? Not remotely.

But she didn't say that–couldn't say that.

"It's Alexis's school project?" Typical Castle to be so involved with his daughter's school project that he was actually talking to the egg just as if it was a baby.

He was definitely going to be one of those parents who manipulated the baby's arm into waving at people and pitched his voice into high, squeaky tones pretending to be the baby talking. Something inside her chest clenched at the thought, the mental image. She'd always thought such actions were ludicrous and wondered at the parents who did such a thing but somehow, picturing Castle holding up a baby with dark hair and his eyes and his slightly crooked smile as he made the baby wave… Oh, something inside her chest reacted very differently now, softened, melted.

"Alexis and Paige are going to their first senior party tonight and Alexis went over to Paige's house early to get their costumes ready and all that so I'm baby-sitting. Egg-sitting," he corrected himself.

She blinked and tried to push aside the emotions. "First senior party, huh?" she managed to drawl. She could imagine what that would be like.

His eyes widened a little. "What? What's with that tone?"

"Oh, nothing," she said airily–and really, Alexis was a sensible girl so surely she wouldn't get into too much trouble, would she?

"Beckett," he pouted and then straightened up, his expression changing. "Oh, wait, is this the voice of experience? Part of what your dad meant about your teenage behavior?"

Damn it, Dad. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Pry all you want, Castle, I'm not telling you more stories from my past. Anyway, we're talking about Alexis now, not me."

"Spoilsport," he muttered with a disgruntled grimace.

She smirked at him but then was distracted as her phone rang with Espo telling her the news that they'd found Daemon (in a nice bit of detective work) and he'd been shot, which effectively drove all non-case related thoughts from her mind.

Daemon's–Jonas Westfall's–murder was one of those discoveries that changed the whole complexion of the case, not least because it cast serious doubt on Lockerby's guilt, but also because it soon became clear that both murders were somehow connected to another one from 20 years ago.

Working that out took them all day with Castle beside them every step of the way–until he got a phone call from Alexis and rushed out of the precinct without so much as a backward glance. Oh. She bit her lip as she felt a niggle of worry. She could well imagine the sort of things that would go on at a senior party, under-age drinking being the least of it. But at least, she told herself, Alexis had the sense to call Castle—which also meant that Alexis was conscious and coherent so Alexis herself should be fine, right?

The boys returned from getting additional information on Jonas Westfall a.k.a. Daemon, with Espo raising a brow at Castle's vacated seat. "Where's Castle?"

"Alexis called so he had to leave." She flipped the file folder closed. "Anyway, it's getting late and I don't know about you but I'm beat so why don't we call it a night and pick this back up tomorrow."

To their credit, neither of the boys so much as glanced in the direction of her stomach and Ryan went so far as to chime in, "Yeah, I'm beat too. Thanks, Beckett."

"Yeah, might as well," Espo agreed. "We're not gonna find anything more out at this hour. Night, Beckett."

"Night, guys." She waved the boys off and quickly gathered up all the files pertaining to the case and put them inside one of her desk drawers for the night before shrugging into her trench coat and grabbing her purse.

Kate made it halfway to the elevator before she stopped, turned back, returning to her desk, half-cursing herself but unable to help the impulse, the compulsion. The egg–what had Castle called it–oh, right, Feggin. Feggin grinned up at her from where Castle had left him–it!—on her desk.

It really was… kind of cute with that smiley face drawn on it.

She hesitated. Oh god, she could not possibly be thinking about–okay, fine, yes, she was more than thinking about it. She caught Feggin up in her hand and after a moment's thought, carefully deposited it into the pocket of her trench coat.

No, she didn't know why she did it but–oh fine, maybe it was the mental image she'd had earlier of Castle holding up the Sprout in a similar manner and "introducing" the Sprout to someone. It was hormones, she decided abruptly. That was her story and she was sticking to it.

Once in the privacy of her car, she transferred Feggin from her pocket to the cup holder, hesitated again, and even though she rolled her eyes at her own ridiculousness, she got a tissue and folded it into a makeshift base before replacing Feggin in the cup holder on its tissue-cushion. And that was how Feggin silently passed the short drive back to her apartment–and oh god, she had not just thought that, as if Feggin wasn't an inanimate object. (She blamed Castle.)

Inside her apartment, she placed Feggin still on his tissue on the counter, then glanced at her refrigerator–should she put Feggin inside, where eggs would normally go?—and then back at the egg. Damn it, no, she was not doing this, actually fretting over where to keep this silly egg. She was done with whatever this insanity, this egg-sitting as Castle had put it. She'd done more than enough.

Besides, she was hungry, again. They'd had dinner at the precinct but that had been a couple hours ago. She wasn't about to actually cook at this hour but contented herself with a bowl of cereal with milk.

When she was done eating, she retreated into her bedroom, taking care of her nightly ablutions and sliding into bed. It really had been a long day and she knew tomorrow would be even longer, culminating with the dinner at the loft so she really should get her rest.

She should.

She was out of bed a minute later, padding back into her kitchen. Oh, damn, this was totally Castle's fault–and that of her hormones–she thought grudgingly as she picked Feggin up and brought it into her bedroom, placing it on the nightstand. She couldn't believe she was doing this–and no one was ever going to find out about it–but there she was. The thought of just leaving the egg unattended in an entirely different room overnight–when Castle had said that the project was to have the kids realize the responsibility of having a baby. A baby wouldn't just be left completely unattended in a different room.

Oh god, was this what she needed to accustom herself to too, this thinking about another being besides herself, this having another human being with her pretty much constantly?

She turned her head to look over at where she knew Feggin was on her nightstand. "Night, Feggin." The words slipped from her lips before she'd realized she was going to say anything and then she stopped, biting her lip.

Her hand came up to rest on the curve of her stomach, now very definite and just starting to be noticeable, at least to the observant, even in the loose, flowing blouses she'd taken to wearing to work. She hadn't actually felt any movement from the Sprout yet but she knew she likely would in a matter of weeks.

Oh god, this was really happening, she was having a baby, would have a baby in less than six months. In less than six months, having an uninterrupted night of sleep would probably be an unimaginable luxury, from what she'd been told. In less than six months, she was the one who was going to be responsible for caring for a fragile new life, so much more fragile and more demanding than an egg.

She looked down at her stomach, smoothing her hand over the curve. "Hi, baby," she found herself whispering. She felt an absurd swell of emotion. Aside from at the first ultrasound, she hadn't addressed the Sprout aloud, had not felt comfortable doing so. For that matter, she still didn't feel quite comfortable doing so, part of her mind saying it was ridiculous to be talking aloud to a baby who couldn't even hear her, let alone understand a word she said. And yet… here she was. She'd never imagined she would become one of the pregnant women who talked to their baby bump aloud and a corner of her couldn't quite believe she was–but somehow, in the dark, in the privacy of her bedroom, knowing no one was around, she found she could. She was.

"I know, it's silly to be watching an egg like this but I'm doing it for your daddy." Because–oh god–that was what Castle was to the Sprout. It was, she realized, the first time she'd said the word aloud with relation to Castle, 'daddy,' the childish moniker somehow coming naturally as she thought about the Sprout. "For your daddy and for your… big sister." Her voice faltered a little on the words. Because that was what Alexis would be too–the baby's big sister. Kate didn't know what that would make Alexis in relation to her exactly but it was something, made Alexis… family. An odd, non-traditional, undefined family but that was what they–all of them–were going to be, were becoming. Herself, Castle, the baby, Alexis, her dad, Martha. Family.

She felt absurd tears pricking at the back of her eyes, her throat tightening on a surge of emotion. Family–the word was redolent of all she'd lost when her mom had died, all she'd felt she would never have again, even now, even with her relationship with her dad repaired, just the two of them had not felt like family in the same way, not when they were always so conscious of the missing member. The Beckett family unit had been ripped apart with her mom's death and there was just no repairing that wound.

But now, somehow, with this baby, she was gaining another, new, different family. A bit of a strange one, since she and Castle were not together, but a family nonetheless.

"Your family, baby. Your daddy's silly a lot of the time but he's going to make your life so fun… and he's going to love you so much." He would–Castle already did love the baby, she knew. She remembered what Castle had told her, about the first time he'd held baby Alexis and how amazing it had been, and she imagined Castle holding their baby… Emotion slammed into her with all the force of a professional boxer's punch to the solar plexus, leaving her a little dizzy and short of breath.

Oh god–and that, she wondered fuzzily, how much of her emotions had to do with Castle as a person and how much were due to the baby and his role in the baby's life. She didn't know, couldn't be sure–felt as if she wasn't sure of anything these days and that kind of self-doubt made it hard to consider starting anything new. And her emotions were all over the place these days–witness the fact that she'd been feeling sentimental and protective over an egg, had talked to the egg.

"Your big sister–her name's Alexis–is very smart and sweet. In fact, if you wanted to take Alexis as a role model, you should do that, baby." She stopped, wondering what had happened to Alexis tonight, if the girl was okay. But surely, if anything had really been wrong, Castle would have called her to tell her, wouldn't he have? Not because she was a cop but simply because he knew she cared about Alexis and he had started to confide in her about Alexis lately, perhaps inevitably. (Family, again the word whispered through her mind.)

"And you have a grandmother in your daddy's mommy and a grandfather in my dad and when you're a little older, I'll tell you about your other grandmother too, baby. She's… not here anymore but she would have loved you too." She choked a little, her faltering whisper failing entirely on the last words and she couldn't go on. Not now, not anymore.

Oh god, she wanted her mom. She always did, of course, but these days even more so. The thought that her mom would never get to meet the Sprout made her whole chest ache. Hot tears welled up in her eyes and this time, she couldn't hold them back, only shut her eyes against them, lifting a hand to swipe away the drops on her cheeks.

By now, Kate was used to crying alone–she'd never been comfortable with letting anyone see her tears–and as usual, she felt a fresh surge of longing for her mom because her mom had been the only person she'd usually allowed to see her tears. Her mom, who'd been able to hold her and wipe her tears away, who had been able to find the words to comfort her, who'd always made her feel safe and loved.

She wanted that. She wanted to be held. She wanted that secure feeling of an unquestionable love.

She wanted… Castle.

Wait, what? Her thoughts broke off so fast it should have left skid marks on her brain. What had she just thought–but she couldn't–she shouldn't–be thinking about Castle like that. That was worse, even more dangerous, than just being physically attracted to him. She was physically attracted to other men too–okay, so she couldn't think of any one off the top of her head–and she couldn't remember ever feeling so strongly attracted to anyone before either but still, that didn't matter as much. It was only physical.

What she'd just thought was worse because it hadn't been about the physical at all, had been emotional. It was… crazy, insane, ludicrous, a thesaurus's worth of all those things and she didn't know where it had come from except–she did.

The hug, the one Castle had given her a few weeks ago during the Eliska Sokol case, after they'd heard what had happened to Eliska's baby boy. The memory came flooding back into her mind–the way it had felt to be held by him. The strength of his arms around her, the solid wall of his chest to lean on, the scent of him, the warmth and the comfort of him surrounding her–shielding her–or so it had somehow felt like in that moment. With his height, his broad shoulders, his arms–he did have very good arms–she'd felt… sheltered. And perhaps even more than that had been his understanding, his empathy, because she'd known that he knew what had upset her.

Shit. No, oh no, no, no, she could not be thinking like this about Castle, had already decided she wouldn't think like this about Castle. And that was all there was to it. Really.

Anyway, she reasoned, she had no reason to think Castle was interested in a real relationship with her. (Liar, a little voice in her mind whispered–which she ignored.) He might care about her but they were friends and partners from what she knew of Castle's past, what she'd seen of both his ex-wives, he didn't go for 'real' anyway. (And tried valiantly to persuade herself she believed her own excuse–reason.)

She shut her eyes determinedly. And then after a long few minutes, murmured, "Good night, baby." And she was, eventually, able to sleep.

The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes the next morning was Feggin. Still sitting on the nightstand. Oh. She felt herself blush all over again. Oh god, she really had just baby-sat an egg overnight, hadn't she?

Not that anyone needed to know that. Or was going to know it. She could be sneaky and stealthy. Unlike Castle.

When she walked into the precinct sometime later, Feggin was, again, carefully concealed in the pocket of her trench coat and she glanced around the bullpen for a quick moment and took advantage of the morning bustle to quickly slide Feggin out of her pocket and deposit it back on her desk. There, she was done now. No more egg-sitting.

She sat down at her desk and powered her computer on and got ready to start her day, pulling the folders pertaining to the Matthew Freeman case from out of her drawer and dropping them on her desk. And then froze. The action or maybe the breeze or something created by the folders landing on her desk had made the egg roll, half-slipping off his–its–tissue-base.

Damn it, no, she'd said she was done with this.

She looked at Feggin again–remembered Castle holding Feggin up as he "introduced" the egg to Dr. Holloway. Damn it.

Remembered too something she'd almost forgotten about, back in the spring at the vernal equinox, Castle had been babbling about how it was possible to stand an egg on its end at the equinox. He had tried it too, only for the egg to–of course–roll onto its side and then fall off her desk. She smirked at the memory of Castle's pout, a pout which had only deepened when she'd insisted he clean up the egg-y mess he'd made.

Oh fine, she would do this one last thing. And then her egg-sitting would really be done.

It was for Alexis, she told herself, yes, Alexis and her school project. Couldn't have Alexis doing badly on a project after all, not from what she knew of Alexis's grades. Yeah, that was it, had nothing to do with Castle at all.

She retrieved the small bowl she kept inside her drawer for the occasional snack or candy (usually provided by Castle) and placed Feggin and his tissue inside it. There, that would do it.

She glanced around again and then tapped her fingers lightly on top of Feggin's head–or whatever–before snatching her hand back. Oh god, nope, she had not just done that either.

Could hormones be blamed for going insane?

Never mind. She had work to do.

Which reminded her, she had to fill out paperwork about Morgan Lockerby and transferring him to Social Services if that was really going to happen on schedule tomorrow. The paperwork for a psych hold was not used often so she had to go retrieve it from the file room.

It took some little time to find where the psych hold paperwork was–come to think of it, she didn't think she'd ever actually had the occasion to fill one of these out since she'd started at the 12th–and when she returned to the bullpen, it was to spot a familiar head and set of shoulders sitting in the chair by her desk.

Castle. She noted–automatically–the breadth of his shoulders and abruptly remembered too what she'd thought last night, her steps faltering for a moment as heat flared in her cheeks. No, no, she wasn't going to think that again. It didn't matter how broad his shoulders were.

He lifted his head from the folders he'd been glancing through as if he'd sensed her presence–or more prosaically, recognized her steps–and she prodded her feet back into motion, trying to assume a casual air as she returned to her seat. "Hey, Castle."

As usual, a to-go cup and a white paper bag containing a muffin were sitting on her desk. Beside Feggin.

"Alexis okay?" Because this was about Alexis, after all.

Castle's lips quirked into one of his irritating smirks and she bit the inside of her lip, willing herself not to blush. "She is. She's a smart kid."

"I don't know where she gets it," she hurriedly needled, as she usually would.

But of course the tease, the distraction, didn't work because why would Castle be distracted when she wanted him to be? No, he was only distractible when she didn't want him to be distracted. He lifted Feggin up. "You took care of Feggin."

Damn it damn it damn it. It was the tissue and the little bowl that had given her away. She tried but knew she failed to keep from blushing hotly and could not make herself meet his eyes before she belatedly realized it made her look even more self-conscious. Fine, then, brazening it out was all she could do. She lifted her chin. "Yeah, well, he was easy. He didn't even fuss when I put him to bed." She stopped but then found herself adding, "I only hope the Sprout will be as easy to take care of."

Castle laughed at that. "You don't know much about how real human babies act, do you?" he quipped. "There's not a chance of that."

She felt a quick pang that she tried to ignore. He didn't mean anything by it; he was joking, she told herself. Even if it was true she didn't know much about babies. But she could learn, right? She had to learn.

She managed a smile. "It can't hurt to hope, right?"

He inclined his head a little. "Why not, hope away. Just don't bet on it."

"Spoilsport," she rallied, her spirits lifting somehow, oddly, just from falling into their usual teasing.

He grinned. "The voice of experience," he tossed back.

She found her eyes meeting and holding his as they exchanged smiles–but then thankfully (she was thankful for it, she told herself, could not just sit here grinning foolishly), Esposito came up with another development in the Matthew Freeman case and it was back to work for them.

~To be continued…~

Author's Note: Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers.