Beckett: Pancakes

Thursday 11 October

Pancake batter bubbled as it hit the pan. Kate left it to sear while she rummaged through Castle's kitchen cupboards for more condiments. The breakfast table spilled over with plates, bowls, cutlery, glasses, coffee cups, orange juice, milk, chocolate spread, maple syrup, cereal boxes, bread, butter, a fruit basket; lines of bacon curled and crisped under the grill. She had briefly considered asking Castle before taking his artisanal streaky bacon from the cavernous fridge but had decided he'd forgive her. She found both crunchy and smooth peanut butter, wondered briefly which was for whom in the Castle household, and placed them on the table before rushing back to the pan to flip the now just-on-the-edge-of-burnt pancake.

The coffee machine ground loudly, its fumes comforting. She was partially dressed: a grey cotton v-neck over plaid pyjama bottoms, her hair scrunched up into a loose bun. She had barely slept. After an hour of talking and cuddling on the couch, Castle had whipped up a pasta and pesto dish. She had crept upstairs to invite Erin to join them, but she had already curled up under the duvet, fully dressed. She had been sure that she had been feigning sleep so had left her one of her night shirts on the bedside table, as well as a glass of water, and whispered that she could eat whenever she wanted.

At first, whilst they waited, they had watched a movie, but it turned into an Evil Dead marathon. By one am, Castle had gone to bed, stating that at least one of them should sleep and it obviously wasn't going to be her. He had covered her with a blanket, kissed her on the temple and said: 'Try not to fret too much, she'll come down when she's ready.'

Kate looked towards the stairs. It was eight am. Was it too early to wake her? Was Castle right, should she just wait and hope the breakfast smells were enough to entice her? Whilst assessing her options, Castle, already dressed, sauntered in. She felt messy and inadequate in comparison. Coming up behind her, he reached around her waist, pulling her into him, his warmth familiar and safe. He smelled fresh and invigorating. She tapped him lightly with the spatula over her shoulder, laughing as he ducked backwards.

'Wow, look at all this, Beckett.' His eyes rested on the plate beside the hob. 'I love your Leaning Tower of Pancakes. How many are we expecting this morning?' Just as she was about to hit him again, the tap-tap-tap of feet could be heard coming down the stairs.

Erin drifted towards the table. The child was still dressed in the jeans and hoodie from the day before and her hair was tied up in a ponytail; a few loose, greasy strands floated around her pale face. Kate and Castle exchanged a nervous glance.

'Good morning, Erin,' she heard herself say buoyantly, a surprise given how hard her heart was hammering. How long was it going to be before the sight of her daughter stopped taking her breath away? Erin mumbled a 'Hi' which turned into a yawn that Kate couldn't help repeating. She inched around the kitchen counter to stand beside her. As she did so, Erin shifted away to the other side of the table. She started to follow but stopped, dropping the arm she had stretched towards her. Instead, she returned to the hob and using tongs placed the bacon on a plate and then carried both the bacon and the pancakes to the table and shuffled items around to place them in the centre.

'You must be hungry,' said Kate. Erin shrugged. She tilted forward as she watched Erin scrutinize the food, her bitten-down fingernails worrying the hoodie's cuffs. There was a strange look on Erin's face, as if she were remembering a terrible incident.

'It's okay, Erin, you can have anything you want.' She swept a hand over the feast then rested it on the back of a chair.

'And if we don't have it, we can go and get it,' Castle chimed in from the kitchen. She had almost forgotten he was there. The three of them seemed frozen in a triangular tableau and Kate didn't know how to break it. It was Castle who shattered the picture.

'How about I make you my famous fruit salad?' Erin looked up at him with relief. 'Do you wanna help me?'

Erin traipsed into the kitchen. Castle bustled around her, reaching for a knife, and chopping board. 'Beckett, pass me the fruit bowl,' he said, without looking at her, his hands waving quickly in command. He retrieved squirty cream from the fridge – Damn, how had she forgotten the cream – and grabbed three apples and started juggling, badly. He lurched from counter to counter trying to catch the errant fruit. Kate smiled as Erin broke into a small laugh. She slouched at the untouched table and rested her chin on one hand, elbow on the table, and watched Castle show her daughter where the knives were, and which was the best for hard fruit; he prattled incessantly and Erin nodded and followed his instructions, her eyebrows knitted together. Together they produced a beautiful array of sliced fruit with a squirty smiley face in the centre, which Castle held up proudly. Erin lifted herself up onto the counter, looking briefly at both adults as if afraid she would be told off.

Kate helped herself to a piece of bacon, the pancakes no longer appealing, and munched it slowly. Castle handed her a cup of coffee. She took it, feeling both relieved and peculiarly insulted. Before she could plan her next move, Martha waltzed in, a tornado of colour. She must have slept at some point as she didn't remember Martha coming home.

'Darlings!' Kate stood up awkwardly, suddenly aware of her state of dress. Erin delicately placed her plate to one side and slipped off the counter, somehow making herself invisible behind Castle.

'Welcome, welcome, welcome!' Martha called out to Erin, undeterred by the girl's shyness. Kate couldn't help appreciating Martha's ease and ability to imbue any atmosphere with lightness and joy.

'This is Martha, Rick's mother. She lives here too,' Kate explained though Erin didn't look towards her. Castle twisted to Erin behind him and with a wink said: 'Anything you can recommend to change that would be greatly appreciated.' Again, Erin's face, impassive towards her, relaxed in response to Castle. Finally, he seemed to cotton on and looked towards her, apologising with his eyes.

'Well, what are you all doing today?'

Before he could answer, Kate cut in. 'Shopping. Erin and I are going shopping.' Erin, finally, looked over at her. 'For clothes,' she clarified.

'And I'm heading to the station to assist Ryan and Esposito.' Inwardly, she sighed with relief.

'Hhhm, yes, that does seem a promising idea. Richard, dear, you can spare your credit card today.'

'Oh no, Martha, that's fine.' She can damn well buy her own daughter her wardrobe.

'In the meantime, you can borrow something of Alexis's. I'm sure she left something behind, she won't mind.'

Erin looked at Castle questioningly.

'Oh, Alexis is my daughter. She's just left for college. Columbia. You'll meet her soon. Mother's right, Alexis won't mind.'

'Erin, you haven't had a chance to see the place. Come on, I'll show you. We both need to get showered and dressed.'

She waited for Erin to creep towards her and smiling at Martha and Castle she led Erin away, feeling more like herself for having taken back control. Erin kept at least three feet behind her, so that Kate kept peering over her shoulder to make sure she was still there. She quickly showed her Rick's office, telling her she can help herself to the library of books, and his - now their – bedroom and ensuite. The only comment Erin made was: 'Big lion,' in a deadpan voice. She didn't comment on Boba Fett in the bathroom.

She sourced Erin towels and shampoo and left them in the upstairs bathroom; then she took her to Alexis's bedroom, now half-stripped of its owner's identity, her scent still lingering in the air. It felt strange invading the absent girl's room. Martha had been right: Alexis had not been able to take every item of clothing with her, although the way many were strewn across her bed suggested she had tried. The open closet door revealed more clothes. Although older, Alexis couldn't be much taller than Erin, possibly almost the same height. Kate had no idea what style Erin liked to wear – the jeans and hoodie reeked of circumstance. Alexis's style veered towards light colours. 'Shall we pick something together, or do you want to look by yourself?' Since Erin didn't reply, she opted to let her choose by herself. 'I'm going to have a shower too – shall I wait for you downstairs?' Erin simply nodded stiffly. Kate hovered. Should she say something more, something comforting, reassuring? No, too much pressure.

It must have been years since she had last interacted with a twelve-year-old. Possibly it was when she herself was that age. She did not remember her peers looking so young. She remembered the silly fun she had with her girlfriends: the gossip and the joking and the life-or-death arguments. Despite being gawky and quiet, she had been just on the right side of cool; bullies had kept away. Many friends, however, had suffered at the hands, more often the tongues, of others and she had told herself that one day those troublemakers would need her one day, when she had set herself on being a lawyer like her parents. Until her mother's murder that those 'badly behaved kids' could intrude upon and affect her life had not occurred to her. What kind of friendships had Erin had? What had happened to them once her life had been ripped apart?

Erin staring at her brought her back to the present. 'I'll see you downstairs,' she repeated. At the door, she hesitated, one hand on the knob.

'Everything is going to be okay, Erin. You're safe here,' she said. Doubt flooded her: I'm sorry, I don't know how to do this; I don't want to mess this up; what happened to you? How can I fix it all? But she didn't want Erin to see her insecurity. She was going to be the strong one. She was not going to be her father.


A/N: Apologies for how long this is taking and how short this chapter is. Life just seems to be about a million other things atm. This is rumbling away in the back of my consciousness and I do have that conversation with Jim written up (that took up all my attention before I got to this chapter). This was meant to have a whole other scene but that will come in the next chapter. I thought better to get on and post this just to reassure you this story is still live.

Thanks as always for reviews and encouragement.