Author's Note: And now for Captain Montgomery's reaction, which I think people have been looking forward to. I hope this lives up to expectations.

Then Came Love

Chapter 19

Kate glanced over to Captain Montgomery's office for what was probably the hundredth time in the last hour and half. She'd been waiting for a good time to go in to his office and tell him about the baby but when she'd arrived at the precinct that morning, it was to find Montgomery's door closed and the shades drawn, which was an indication that the Captain was busy and shouldn't be disturbed except for something urgent.

And then later, when the shades had been opened along with the door, the Captain had been visited by one of the lieutenants from Vice followed by a uniform she recognized as working in Narcotics. Once the visitors had left, the Captain had picked up his phone and since then had been almost constantly on the phone.

She'd always known that a lot of the Captain's daily work involved interfacing between different squads along with the higher-ups at One PP but it had never been quite so apparent—or so aggravating—as it was this morning.

And the wait was only making her nerves seem to tighten up as she had more time to wonder how he might react, what he might say—more time to think about the fact that telling him about the baby also meant having to obliquely talk about her sex life with her boss. Oh god.

On second—third—thought, she didn't really need to tell Captain Montgomery today, did she?

Damn it, no, she pulled herself up short. She was not someone who procrastinated and it wasn't as if this conversation would get any easier for putting it off. She'd decided she was going to tell the Captain today and so she would.

Anyway, the Captain really did need to be told. She was 13 weeks (and one day) along and while the curve of her stomach was small enough to be easily concealed now, it wouldn't stay that way for long.

Through the Captain's window, she saw the Captain put down his phone and turn to his computer. Right, so now appeared to be a good opportunity.

She found herself looking towards the elevator, absurdly, as if just looking for Castle would make him appear. Ridiculous since she wasn't even expecting him to come in yet. He'd mentioned he'd be a little later than usual because he was getting the blood test done this morning.

And she didn't know why it mattered, why she had the sudden (silly) thought that it would be… easier somehow if he were here, that having the tea and the muffin he always brought would provide a sort of artificial courage—or maybe it wouldn't be the tea or the muffin but just the sight of his smile, the way he looked at her as if she really was, well, extraordinary.

Oh, nonsense!

She shook the thought out of her head and pushed herself to her feet to cross the bullpen to the Captain's door, giving it a brief knock. "Sir, may I have a word?"

Montgomery's businesslike expression softened into one of his faint smiles. "Come in, Beckett."

She did, closing the door firmly behind her, before she moved to sit in one of the chairs facing the Captain's desk, her back ramrod straight and her hands clasped together in her lap. If only because she thought she might start to fidget if they weren't.

Montgomery quirked a curious eyebrow at her. "Well, Beckett, what is it?"

She let out a breath, inwardly steeling herself. "I have some news that you need to be aware of."

"Oh?"

Her hands tightened around each other as she tensed further. There really was no subtle way to say this, as she already knew. "I'm pregnant."

The Captain had too good a poker face for his jaw to drop but for the first time in her memory, he was clearly taken entirely aback, his eyes widening fractionally as he stared at her.

She tried not to squirm or blush but couldn't entirely stay silent, found herself rushing on, "I'm about three months along. The doctor says everything looks fine so it's safe to tell people. Sir," she added belatedly as if that would somehow make her words sound more composed.

The Captain absently straightened some of the papers on his desk before responding, "Well, this is a surprise."

"Yes, sir," she agreed. "It… was a surprise for me too." She couldn't quite believe she was admitting as much but, well, she doubted Montgomery would be surprised. He knew her too well to think she might have been planning to get pregnant, not with her job being what it was.

His expression eased a little. "A surprise you appear to have adjusted to."

"Yes, sir." She had (mostly).

Montgomery met her eyes directly. "You understand you'll need to be placed on restricted duty, effective immediately."

She had expected it but even so, felt her heart seem to sink. Even knowing it was the smart, responsible, even necessary thing to do—even knowing it was for not only her own sake but also that of the baby—didn't make the idea of restricted duty much more palatable to her. How restricted was it? She knew there had to be a set of plans in place for when cops were pregnant but she'd never looked into it before, not having expected to need it, and hadn't known how to inquire about it lately without the gossip getting all over the precinct within the hour. She nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Now, for this restricted duty, you can still go out into the field, to crime scenes, but only after they've been fully cleared by unis and confirmed safe by either Esposito or Ryan." He paused and then went on, pointedly, "And if you even think about pushing the limits on this by, say, leaning on Ryan to override his own common sense, you will be benched to full-time desk duty for the rest of your pregnancy and I'll bust Ryan down to traffic for a month, no joke."

She nodded. "Yes, sir." Damn it. She'd been half-hoping, wondering, if she could persuade Ryan into easing up on the restrictions here and there—she knew there was no chance with Espo, short of outright shooting him, and even then, it would be iffy—but she couldn't have Ryan pay for her own actions and she had absolutely no wish to be put on desk duty a minute sooner than necessary.

"You may still talk to the families and witnesses and conduct interrogations but only with either Esposito or Ryan in the box with you—and no, Castle will no longer be accepted as your sole backup in an interrogation—and any suspects who have even the smallest hint of violence or anything more serious than a parking ticket in their pasts must be restrained first."

"I understand, sir." Which she understood meant, in practice, that she wouldn't—couldn't—be the lead in the interrogation, would back up either Espo or Ryan.

"You are not, however, allowed to be involved in bringing in suspects or making the final collar. And limit your overtime to what's absolutely necessary."

"Yes, sir," she agreed and only just managed to keep her disgruntlement from being audible.

"And you'll be put on desk duty when you reach the third trimester up until when you decide to start your maternity leave."

She managed to keep from grimacing at the thought of weeks, if not months, of desk duty. "Understood."

Montgomery sat back, his expression shifting from his official Captain one to the one of her mentor and friend. "You realize this is only the start of how your life will change from now on. Take it from me, having kids changes everything in ways you probably can't even imagine right now."

She released a breath, trying to tamp down the flutter of nervousness. Being reminded of how ill-prepared she was for this whole having-a-baby thing was not calming. "So I've heard."

"You know, Beckett, I'm sure Evelyn would be happy to talk to you personally about questions you might have since she's been through the experience of pregnancy herself. And that reminds me, becoming a parent is a big deal but it is easier if you have a partner, someone to help shoulder the responsibilities." He paused, his expression an odd mix of concern and restraint. "Will you have someone to help you?"

Right, the other thing she did need to tell him. "I will have help," she answered, not very evenly. "Castle is the father," she finished, awkwardly.

If the announcement of her pregnancy had surprised the Captain, this revelation shocked him. He stared, a little cough of surprise escaping him that in anyone else would probably have been an exclamation.

There was a long pause and Montgomery coughed again and then finally responded, "Oh. Well then." It was the sort of meaningless filler she'd never really heard him use before and it was more proof of just how stunned he was.

She tried not to flush under his gaze.

"Well," he began again after another pause, "I knew you and Castle had been getting along better since you allowed him back to the precinct and certainly the Nikki Heat dedication was evidence of that too but I didn't realize things had developed that much between you and Castle."

She felt heat flare in her cheeks, couldn't help it now. Oh god, she could not believe she was going to do this, talking about her personal life with her boss, except in this circumstance, she kind of had to. "Ah, well, they haven't developed as such, sir," she managed not smoothly. "Castle and I are not… involved like that. This just… happened and we're figuring out how to manage as... friends."

Montgomery leveled an assessing look at her and she forced herself to meet his eyes, trying (and failing) to subdue her blush. "Friends," he repeated and she wondered if she was imagining the faint thread of skepticism in his tone. (She had to be imagining it; Montgomery wasn't like Lanie.) "I see."

"Friends, yes, sir," she confirmed and bit back the other words crowding into her throat, the additional explanations that she and Castle had already figured out how to work together in the precinct and could surely figure out how to work together outside of it to co-parent a baby, that in this day and age, a child's parents obviously did not need to be married or romantically involved to manage. (And she wasn't trying to justify her decision to keep things platonic between her and Castle, really, she wasn't, and there was nothing to justify anyway. She'd made her decision and that was that.)

The Captain was still observing her and after a moment, she added, not quite trying to change the subject but not quite not, "I appreciate the offer to talk to Mrs. Montgomery, sir. Tell her I might call her sometime. I do have some questions."

As usual, the mention of his wife made Montgomery's expression warm and soften. "I'll tell Evelyn. And that reminds me, it appears congratulations are in order, Beckett."

She managed a small smile. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate that." Especially as she knew her being on restricted duty was going to complicate things for the Captain too in having to manage everyone else's workload and possibly bring in another detective to Homicide on a temporary basis to take her place while she was on desk duty and on maternity leave.

"Now, I assume you will be telling Esposito and Ryan at some point soon," Montgomery switched back into his Captain mode.

"Ah, yes, sir, sometime in the next day or so," she promised. Ugh, another conversation she was not looking forward to.

He nodded. "Good. I'll have a word with them afterwards to explain your restricted duty status. Beyond that, I imagine you and your team will work out the details of casework going forward." He paused and then added, "I know you don't like being on restricted duty but Beckett, remember, what makes a good detective isn't the ability to run after suspects and tackle them, any idiot can do that. You can still do your job and be as good a detective as you already are and I expect you to do just that."

She nodded crisply. "Yes, sir. I'll try."

He nodded. "Knowing you, you'll do better than that." But in cop fashion, he didn't linger over the compliment, only waved a hand in dismissal. "Now get back to work, Beckett."

"Yes, sir." She stood up, feeling a small wave of relief. That had been awkward, yes, but at least it was over now and Captain Montgomery had taken the news in stride. And telling the boys should be easier because they weren't her superiors, were not just her colleagues but her friends, the brothers she'd never had.

She strode out of the Captain's office, her eyes finding Castle's still-empty chair beside her desk. Oh. He still hadn't arrived yet. And then she set her jaw, lifting her chin. She flatly refused to miss someone who she fully expected to see in the next hour or so; it was pathetic and ridiculous and she was simply not going to do it. So there.


As usual, Castle felt his spirits lifting as he neared the precinct. So maybe it wasn't exactly normal to feel happy about walking into a police station but never mind, he wasn't happy because of the police part of it, just happy at the thought of seeing Beckett. Not just seeing her but spending time with her, watching her, able to drink in the crisp grace of her movements, the play of expression across her face.

Put like that, he couldn't believe he'd even considered the Bond offer for the space of even an hour, let alone a day. What was Bond when compared to Beckett? Sure, the Bond offer would have meant fame and fortune but honestly, he didn't need more of either. Spending time with Beckett and the ever-present hope for more than the friendship they currently had, the hope for the lasting love he believed he could find with her, was worth immeasurably more to him than any fame or fortune could be.

The Bond offer had been tempting—he wouldn't deny that—his lifelong love of the character guaranteed that and it had certainly been a nice boost for his ego. He'd remembered the thrill, the fascination, he'd first felt on reading Casino Royale—and more, the wish to one day do the same thing, not to be James Bond himself but to write a story that would give someone else that same thrill, that would temporarily transport someone into another world. The idea of that had become his raison d'etre for years afterwards and the Bond offer had seemed like a sign from the universe, validation of his dream and proof of his success.

But he also understood that it had been nostalgia. Nostalgia was a powerful thing but what was more powerful than that was hope. Bond, as he'd told Beckett, was his past; Beckett herself—and yes, Nikki Heat too—was his future (he hoped).

A hope that was all the more persistent and powerful because now he knew that Beckett was happy to have him around at the precinct. Being Beckett, she hadn't said as much but he was learning to be wise in the ways of Beckett and he'd realized a while ago that Beckett's eyes communicated more than her words and when he'd told her that he had turned down the Bond offer—and by extension that he would keep on working with her—her eyes had been bright, glinting with green sparks of what he thought—believed—was gladness. And then she'd smiled, one of her real, beautiful smiles (well, okay, all her smiles were beautiful). And he'd known she was happy at the idea of his continuing to shadow her. Which had been more than confirmation enough that his decision to turn down the Bond offer had been the right one.

Not that he'd explained any of that to Paula—nor would it have made any difference since Paula was not the sentimental sort and after his rejecting the Bond offer, was barely on speaking terms with him as it was. Which would complicate his working life a little since she was still in the middle of coordinating the publicity for Heat Wave but he shrugged off the thought. Paula would do what he paid her to and that was that.

He exchanged friendly greetings with Paderewski, the uniform who manned the front desk, as he breezed past and found he was already smiling as he stepped out of the elevator into the homicide bullpen.

As always, his eyes immediately sought out Beckett, even as he managed rather absent greetings to the cops who greeted him. She looked up and saw him, her eyes and her expression brightening, not quite a smile, just a faint curve of her lips. He wondered vaguely if he would ever not react to the way she looked happy to see him—no, he didn't wonder, he knew he would never get used to it. Their eyes met, even from halfway across the bullpen, and he returned her smile but then, for the first time in his memory, color stained her cheeks as she flushed, biting her lip a little, before she lowered her gaze. His heart leaped in his chest, hope surging. She had blushed and from what he knew of Kate Beckett, she did not blush that easily or often so it had to mean something, didn't it? Something good.

"Castle!"

He was rudely yanked from his dreamily hopeful state at the sound of Captain Montgomery's crisp voice cutting across the bullpen.

He jerked to look at the Captain, his mood abruptly plummeting as he took in Montgomery's unsmiling expression. This was not the friend he occasionally played poker with; this was the captain who was in charge of the workplace in which Castle was technically only a guest. Oh shit, what had he done now?

"In my office, Castle. I'd like a word," Montgomery clipped.

He glanced at Beckett in some alarm and saw her attention had been caught too—as had just about everyone else's in the bullpen—and she gave him a small nod. And he knew. She had told Montgomery about the baby. That had to be what this was about.

Castle tried to tamp down the surge of something like panic. There was nothing to be afraid of. The Captain wouldn't actually shoot him after all and he hadn't done anything wrong in getting Beckett pregnant. And really, it wasn't any of the Captain's business what he and Beckett did outside of the precinct. But looking at Montgomery's expression, he didn't think that reason would fly.

It was also not entirely true either since anything that affected Beckett's work was Montgomery's business and a pregnancy would certainly do that.

Crap.

Castle steeled himself as he walked into Montgomery's office, closing the door behind him. Montgomery sat down behind his desk and Castle forced himself to sit in one of the chairs before Montgomery's desk in an attempt to seem more at ease than he was, rather than staying on his feet like some schoolboy who'd been summoned to the principal's office.

On a normal day, when it was just the two of them, Castle might have ventured to use Montgomery's first name but not today. "You wanted to see me? Sir?" he began instead, tacking on the honorific he rarely used as an after-thought.

"I did," Montgomery confirmed and then said nothing more, let the silence drag out as he studied Castle.

It was a long minute—felt like about an hour to Castle—and he was about an inch away from breaking down and confessing to every misdeed he'd ever committed down to the times he'd cut class in high school to make out with a girl in some secluded corner.

But then Montgomery went on. "Beckett talked to me, told me about her pregnancy." His tone and his expression shifted, became indefinably more stern. "And that you're the father."

Castle resisted the urge to squirm. Or flee. Or something. He'd never been so aware that Montgomery was a damn good cop and no pushover, never found Montgomery so intimidating before. He swallowed. "I—uh—yes," he finally confirmed, inanely.

Montgomery didn't look pleased and a small, irreverent voice in Castle's mind commented that clearly the Captain wasn't going to be handing out cigars or anything when the baby arrived. (Why was he thinking such nonsense?)

"When I agreed to let you shadow Beckett, I thought we had an agreement that it was only as long as you were helpful, didn't get in the way. Instead, you've put my best detective out of commission for six months."

Castle tried not to wince. He supposed from the Captain's perspective, that was sort of what he had done in getting Beckett pregnant; she wouldn't be on full duty until after the baby was born. And oh god, was this the precursor to Montgomery kicking him out of the precinct? He could try to call the Mayor but somehow, seeing Montgomery's expression now, he wasn't sure he'd bet on Montgomery folding, or at least not without raising a stink first and in any disagreement that went public, Castle was realist enough to know that the Mayor would relent. There was no way the Mayor could or would use his limited political capital only to allow Castle to shadow Beckett and certainly not when Beckett was on some form of limited duty. He felt his heart clench. Beckett had only just allowed him to work with her again and aside from his liking (loving) the work of solving cases with Beckett, he was also very aware that he loved, too, the excuse to see Beckett almost every day.

"I didn't mean for this to happen, Captain," Castle managed.

"So Beckett told me but it did happen. So, what do you intend to do about it?"

"I'll do the right thing and take responsibility. I already have accepted the responsibility," Castle answered immediately, trying not to sound irritated or hostile at the doubt inherent in Montgomery's question. Did Montgomery really think so little of him that he thought he'd run out on any woman who was pregnant with his child, let alone Kate Beckett? So much for being friends with Montgomery.

There was another pause that lasted too long for Castle's comfort and then Montgomery's lips twitched and the twitch became a smirk. "At ease, Castle. You look about ready to challenge me to a duel or something."

Wait, what was that, some kind of test? And how had he not known that Montgomery was evil? And mean. "But you—what—" Castle almost sputtered.

"Oh, relax, Castle. I'm not Beckett's dad and I know damn well you haven't done anything wrong where Beckett's concerned or she would have shot you herself."

Well, except for looking into her mom's case without her permission, a niggling little voice in Castle's brain interjected, even as Castle relaxed a little. Montgomery was, again, the man Castle thought of as a friend. (Thankfully. If the last couple minutes had proven anything, it was that Castle did not want Montgomery as an enemy.) "I meant it. Anything Beckett or the baby needs in the future, I'll provide."

"You don't have to tell me that." Montgomery paused, his smirk fading a little as he sobered. "I may not be Beckett's dad but I am her friend, you know. I'm not going to interfere in whatever is going on between you and Beckett—"

"There's nothing going on," Castle hurriedly blurted out. Not yet, at least, but he didn't say that.

The corner of Montgomery's lips quirked upward slightly. "Oh, Beckett already told me that too but what I want to know is why isn't anything going on between you two?"

Castle almost gaped. "Uh, what?"

Montgomery sat back in his chair, his lips curving more definitely. "Do you know why I let you shadow Beckett all this time?"

"Yes, Bob insisted."

Montgomery made a little skeptical sound. "Bob can say what he likes but this is my precinct and I call the shots around here. If I'd wanted you gone, you'd have been gone, believe me."

Put like that, of course Montgomery was right, as Castle had already thought. "You let me stay, though."

"I've known Beckett longer than any other cop in the building and she's a damn good detective, the best I've ever seen, but I don't need to tell you that."

Castle's lips twitched a little, something like pride and a healthy dose of the respect he felt for Beckett swelling in his chest. "She is quite something."

"Extraordinary, as I've heard some people put it." Montgomery twitched a pointed eyebrow at Castle and he tried not to flush. Ridiculously. The dedications to his books were public, obviously, and he'd known he was making what amounted to a public declaration in the Heat Wave dedication.

"Anyway, she's good but I've also worried because she puts too much into the job, has been heading for burnout."

Castle fought not to frown. Yes, he could see that too. In the way she worked, how much she cared about the victims, about justice, she was like a candle, using up its own being for fuel.

"But then you came along and I saw that Beckett was different around you."

"You mean, constantly annoyed?" Castle couldn't help but insert, half-jokingly.

Montgomery grinned. "Oh, that too, but mostly I saw that she was having more fun with you around. And you weren't so useless in the solving-cases part either."

Castle ignored the teasing comment in favor of what was more important, that Montgomery thought he'd been good for Beckett to have around, had helped in some way to keep her from burning out. It was all he'd wanted, well, almost; he'd wanted to be good for Beckett, to help her, almost since the moment he'd met her.

"She's been good for me too," he murmured quietly, almost more to himself. It was true. Beckett had more than just inspired him, she had saved him in a very real sense, saved him when he'd been floundering, close to drowning, in his writer's block and the ensuing self-doubt, the self-doubt that had then spiraled into his partying and almost drowning again in his own concocted celebrity persona. And then in kicking him out after he'd looked into her mom's case, she'd taught him yet more, had made him want to be better, less impulsive, less… selfish.

Montgomery nodded, looking thoughtful. "Like I said, I can see that you've been pretty good for Beckett to have around. Now, it's not my place to interfere but this baby is going to be a lasting link between you and Beckett. And unless you're a lot dumber than you look, I know you care about her and not only because of the baby."

He left it at that and Castle bit back the impulse to promise Montgomery that he'd never hurt Beckett, that he loved her and would spend the rest of his life trying to make her happy. He couldn't say all that to Beckett's boss.

Montgomery straightened up in his chair, his air becoming brisk. "Beckett can fill you in on the details but I've told her she's going to be placed on restricted duty going forward and I expect you to do your part to keep her in line."

Castle resisted the impulse to grimace or complain. Keep Beckett in line? What was Montgomery's problem, first he not-so-subtly pushed Castle towards Beckett and then in the next breath, seemed to want to ensure that Beckett shot him? Anyone trying to restrain Beckett was taking their life in their own hands and Castle wasn't quite that reckless since he liked being alive, thank you very much. "What makes you think she'll listen to me?" was all he did venture.

"She's carrying your child; you'll find a way to make her listen. Or you're not nearly the man I think you are."

Montgomery met his eyes pointedly and it occurred to Castle that this, no joke this time, was a test. Montgomery wanted to know if Castle was strong enough for Beckett. Montgomery of all people knew just how strong-willed Beckett was and would know she couldn't put up with a weakling. And Montgomery also knew more generally how much fortitude it took to be in a lasting relationship with a cop. Montgomery's own marriage to Evelyn was famously happy—Castle tamped down the unworthy twist of jealousy at the thought of a relationship like that, what he'd always wanted—and now Montgomery was trying to find out if Castle was, in fact, good enough for Beckett.

Oh god. Castle felt a sharp pang of self-doubt. Beckett was the most remarkable person he'd ever met; how could he, with all his faults and his past mistakes, be enough for her? He never had been able to keep a woman happy for long; even if he understood intellectually why his marriages had failed, there was also Kyra who had left him without looking back.

Castle swallowed. "I'll do my best."

Montgomery nodded. "Good. Now you can go bother Beckett since I'm sure you'd much rather be looking at her face than mine," he smirked.

Castle managed a smile. "No offense but she is prettier than you are."

"I think my wife would disagree," Montgomery quipped.

Castle laughed. Yes, this was the man he thought of as a friend. And it occurred to him that Montgomery trusted him, he had to, to be encouraging Castle the way he had. And he had enough respect for Montgomery's opinion to recognize the significance of that. He sobered and met Montgomery's eyes as he stood up. "I will be there for Beckett and the baby, Roy." It was a promise and Castle kept his promises.

"I know. Now get going."

By now, Castle was too used to the ways of cops to take offense at Montgomery's brusque dismissal and he left the office, all the more willingly because he was heading to Beckett and with Beckett was where he always wanted to be.

~To be continued…~

A/N 2: Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers!