Author's Note: Apologies for not being able to post last week but to make up for it, here's the next chapter, a couple days early.

Then Came Love

Chapter 21

Later that evening, Castle ate a solitary dinner at the loft since Alexis had said she had plans with Owen and his mother had a rehearsal for her play which would be opening in little more than a week. He turned on the TV to provide some background noise and then took out the picture of the ultrasound for good measure since he could not get enough of looking at this first picture of the baby.

His eyes traced the fuzzy outline of the baby's head and for about the billionth time, wondered what his and Beckett's little Sprout would look like. He pictured a tiny baby girl with dark hair and Beckett's changeable green-gold eyes, a baby boy with Beckett's eyes and maybe his own slightly crooked smile.

He was having a baby with Kate Beckett. Even now, the thought seemed a little surreal to him.

But then he heard the sound of the door opening and he looked up in some surprise to see Alexis. "Alexis, you're home earl—" He caught a better glimpse of her face and his words abruptly cut off. She looked pale and he thought he saw the trace of tears on her face. His heart clenched. "Alexis? What's wrong?"

She sniffed a little and then he barely had a chance to let out a breath before she was rushing across the room and throwing herself at him, burying her face in his shoulder. He caught and held her, quickly using one hand to fold up the ultrasound picture and tuck it away. He had to focus on Alexis, his baby and still his only child for now. He ran a hand down her hair. "Ssh, pumpkin, it's okay, I'm here," he murmured, not entirely aware of what he was saying. It was about Owen, had to be, since she had made plans with him. He might have to kill that boy after all, but he tried to push his anger aside. Alexis was the important thing right now.

From what he could tell, she wasn't exactly crying, her shoulders were still and he couldn't hear any sobs. He pressed a kiss to her hair. "Do you want to tell me what's wrong?" he asked carefully.

He heard a muffled sniff and then after a long moment, Alexis lifted her face, her eyes a little reddened and damp with a few tears. His whole chest tightened with an almost physical pain. God, he could never get used to this, how hard it was to see Alexis's tears. It was like the worst form of torture, to see his daughter cry, especially because these days, there was never anything he could do to help. He couldn't simply take away her hurt or anything and he hated that.

"I talked to Owen," Alexis began rather dully. "Because he's been distracted and he didn't want to come to the book launch party with me and everything…"

He blinked a little. This was about the book launch party? Surely not; it didn't seem like his daughter to be so upset about Owen not going to a party that had happened days ago.

"I just… wanted to know what was wrong and I told him it felt as if he hasn't really been all there or listening to me…" Her voice quavered a little and she sniffed again. "And Owen said… he said he'd been trying to figure out how to talk to me, that he wanted to tell me he just… wasn't sure he was really ready to be boyfriend and girlfriend, not seriously… that he did like me and didn't want to hurt my feelings but being a real boyfriend was too much." She sniffled again as some tears escaped. "He… broke up with me."

Alexis's fragile composure gave way to tears and he caught her up in his arms again, holding her. Shit. It had finally happened, what he'd been afraid of, Alexis's first real break-up with a boyfriend.

And again, he felt so damnably helpless. He didn't know what to do or say. The only thing he could think of was wanting to pound Owen into a pulp but he had enough sense to know that wasn't going to comfort Alexis. "I'm so sorry, Alexis," he finally said, lamely. "I know break-ups hurt."

Oh damn damn damn. Where was all his vaunted skill with words now, when he could really use something brilliant and sympathetic to say, some magic words that might somehow take his daughter's hurt away?

And then, abruptly, he remembered what Beckett had said when he'd been talking to her about his uncertainty over how to advise Alexis with boy trouble, that ice cream could be helpful.

He didn't quite understand how but it was as good an idea as any.

"Do you want some ice cream?" he offered, feeling stupid even as he said it. Would ice cream minister to a mind diseas'd?

But then after a long minute, Alexis sniffed and lifted her face. "Ice cream?"

Her voice sounded watery but it was a response. "With any toppings you like," he confirmed. "And we can make a blanket fort and watch a movie?" he suggested. It was the sort of thing that had used to work when she was younger.

She sniffled and lifted a hand to swipe at her cheek. "Okay."

It was not the most enthusiastic response but it was something and better yet, it gave him a concrete task, something to do. "Okay. You change into your pj's and I'll get everything ready."

She nodded, sniffing again, before going upstairs and he turned into a whirling dervish as he rushed around the room, grabbing up blankets and cushions. Thanks to years of practice, he was a past master at assembling blanket forts and didn't think he'd ever been so proud of his skill as he was now when he was able to throw together a basic blanket fort structure in a matter of minutes before going to the kitchen to lay out the makings of a full ice cream sundae bar.

It was all set up by the time Alexis padded downstairs in her pajamas and—his heart twisted in his chest—holding Monkey Bunkey in one hand. It was probably the first time Monkey Bunkey had left Alexis's bedroom in years and seeing it now was not a good sign, was an indication of just how sad and vulnerable Alexis was. Damn it. He really might have to murder Owen.

Alexis's lips tipped up ever so slightly at the corners at the sight of the ice cream bar and the surge of relief he felt at the sight almost made him dizzy. She joined him at the island and leaned against him for a moment, tipping her head against his shoulder in one of her characteristic positions, as he slid his arm around her shoulder. "Thanks, Dad," she murmured.

"Anytime. Now, what kind of ice cream do you want?"

She lifted her head and gave him a pale facsimile of one of her 'silly Dad' looks. "Chocolate, of course."

Of course, he should have guessed that. When it came to ice cream sundaes, Alexis almost always stuck to chocolate ice cream. "Coming right up."

He handed Alexis the carton of chocolate ice cream while he went to his staple for ice cream sundaes, Rocky Road, and he was glad to see that just making the sundae appeared to cheer Alexis up a little.

The sundaes made, he joined Alexis inside the blanket fort as she chose the old Disney animated classic, The Great Mouse Detective, to watch. Because she was definitely his daughter.

And so they ate their sundaes and watched the adventures of Basil, the mouse detective, as he pitted his wits against the scheming Ratigan. Alexis was tucked up against his side, her head resting on his shoulder, and for a while, especially because of how she still held Monkey Bunkey, it was just like the old days when she'd been little, his pint-sized playmate.

When the movie ended, Alexis stirred and crawled out of the blanket fort and he followed, stretching out as he stood up.

"I still have some homework to finish up so I'd better get to it," Alexis commented rather wanly.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He knew how responsible his daughter was but still.

She gave him a pale ghost of a smile. "Not yet but I will be."

His daughter's courage made his whole chest hurt, even as he felt a swell of pride.

Her smile faded. "I keep telling myself what Kate said."

He blinked. Wait, what? What did Beckett have to do with this? And Beckett had talked to Alexis about Owen?

"She said it was okay to expect my boyfriend to care about things I care about and… I think she's right." she sniffed a little before she set her jaw, "So if Owen doesn't care enough about me to care about what's important to me, it's probably better that we broke up."

Oh, when had his baby girl grown up so much? He was torn between pride and something like grief. He loved his too-grown-up daughter just as much as he'd loved the little girl she'd once been but oh, sometimes he thought he would give just about everything he owned to be able to have kept his little girl little for a while longer.

Her lips trembled, her forced calm faltering. "But thinking that doesn't make it hurt less now."

He inwardly winced and again wondered frantically what he should say. "It's natural to feel sad and hurt. Give it some time."

She gave him a faint somewhat tremulous attempt at a smile. "Okay, thanks, Dad." She threw her arms around his neck rather as she had used to when she was little, and kissed his cheek. "Love you."

He returned her hug, kissing her hair. "I love you too, sweetie." It was the first time all evening he was sure of his words.

And then she turned and vanished upstairs and he sighed a little as he turned away. If this first break-up with a boyfriend was a sign of things to come, being a dad to a teenage girl might be the death of him.

But maybe this hurt would keep Alexis from dating anyone else for, oh, another five years or so. (What, a man could hope.)

In the meantime, he would talk to Beckett. Talking to Beckett would help. Talking to Beckett always helped.


"Hey, Castle."

Castle's susceptible heart jolted a little at the sound of Beckett's voice, as he wondered if he was imagining that he could hear a smile in her voice as she answered her phone. He thought she sounded pleased but as usual, Beckett's voice didn't give away much and he couldn't be quite sure. Especially since he knew how overactive his imagination could be where Beckett was concerned.

And he might be reasonably sure she liked having him around at the precinct but that could just be about work. Whether and how much she appreciated his calling her after work hours, intruding into her personal time, he still wasn't quite sure.

But for the moment, at least, he had more immediate concerns.

"Beckett, you talked to Alexis about Owen?" he blurted out and then could have kicked himself. That had been too blunt and he'd completely forgotten about greeting her.

"I… yes. Oh, did something happen because of what I said? I'm sorry, Castle."

He blinked. She was sorry? "Why are you sorry?"

"I just thought, well, it's not really my place to be giving advice to your daughter about her boyfriend—"

She was concerned about that? It was unusual to hear Kate Beckett sound so uncertain of herself but especially over something like this. "Wait," he interrupted her. "You think I mind that you talked to Alexis about Owen?" Although, on second thought, maybe the way he had blurted his question out had made it sound as if he did.

"I know how important it is to you to be there for Alexis but Alexis said she didn't really want to worry you the night of your book launch party and she didn't think the thing with Owen was that big a deal anyway."

Alexis hadn't wanted to worry him? And because of that, Alexis had turned to Beckett instead? The thought gave him a quick, ignoble pang of something he refused to admit might be jealousy or something like it. He wasn't used to Alexis confiding in anyone else about personal things, not really. He had always been Alexis's go-to confidante and he treasured that knowledge. And the idea that Alexis had done it because she hadn't wanted to somehow bother him didn't sit well with him either. As if anything could possibly be more important to him than Alexis's worries, let alone a book.

"I guess I need to remind Alexis that I'm never too busy to listen to her."

"She knows that, Castle. She was just being considerate because she loves you."

Warmth glowed in his chest. "I know," he said quietly. "And thanks."

"For what?"

"For talking to Alexis. I'm glad Alexis went to you if she didn't want to bother me."

He sensed, or something, her small grimace. "I just hope I didn't say anything wrong or that led to Alexis getting hurt."

"You didn't."

"How can you be sure of that? You don't even know what I said to Alexis."

Even in something like this, she was still Skeptical Beckett. "No, but I trust you, Beckett. If I could pick anyone to give Alexis sensible advice, it'd be you." In this, as in everything else, he didn't think there was anyone he trusted more than he did Beckett. It was another reason he was glad, in spite of the circumstances, to be having a baby with Beckett. It was new to him, being able to trust the other parent of his baby and it undoubtedly would make parenting this baby different from his experience of parenting Alexis but it would be a good different.

And oh, how he loved this woman. He couldn't even imagine Meredith worrying over the effect of something she had said to Alexis. Meredith might love Alexis in her own way but Meredith was fundamentally self-centered and it never even occurred to her to think about or wonder how her words or actions might impact other people.

Beckett already cared more about Alexis and her well-being in a real way than Meredith ever had.

"Thanks but you might want to take it back when you find out what I actually said to Alexis," she advised rather dryly.

Knowing Beckett, he doubted it. "What did you say to her?"

"She was a little upset because Owen hadn't wanted to come to the book launch party and..."

"She did mention that but I wasn't sure why that mattered so much," he interrupted, not able to help himself.

"It mattered to her because she knew how important it was to you," Beckett answered, a faint note of 'silly Castle' in her tone. (It was, it occurred to him, not that different from Alexis's 'silly Dad' tone—but then he shoved the thought aside because it was too strange to think of any similarities between his daughter and his—well, Beckett. Not that Beckett was his, he hurriedly corrected, as if she might somehow be able to sense his thoughts.)

"And to Alexis, it was just part of the pattern of Owen not really paying attention to her or caring about what she thought was important. Alexis did mention to you that Owen's been a little distracted lately, right?"

"Yes, she told me about that but that was a couple weeks ago. I thought it had gotten better." Or maybe, he thought with a pang of guilt, he had just assumed it was better because Alexis hadn't mentioned it again. Had he been too preoccupied, not noticing Alexis's continuing worry?

"I guess it hadn't, really, or at least not enough, so Alexis was kind of upset about it and I told her she wasn't being unreasonable to expect her boyfriend to care about the things that are important to her."

"Thank you for that," he responded fervently even as he frowned at the thought of Alexis even needing that kind of reassurance. Shouldn't his daughter have known that already? Then again, what did he know of teenage girls and their views of what they expected in a relationship at this age? (Alexis should just never date, that was all there was for it. For his sanity's sake. The voice in his head that sounded remarkably like Beckett snorted. Fat chance of that. He scowled.)

"I advised her to talk to Owen about it, explain to him why she was upset."

Oh. The pieces fell into place in his mind, why Alexis had decided to talk to Owen—he had thought it was a little odd for Alexis to seemingly initiate such a conversation and on a school night too—and then Owen's response. "And Owen's response to that was to break up with her," he finished.

He heard her suck in a little breath. "Oh. Oh no, poor Alexis. And it was because of something I said. I—"

Crap, had his words sounded like he was blaming her? He replayed them in his mind. Maybe they had. "I didn't mean—it's not your fault," he quickly interrupted her. "What you said to Alexis, it was true and good advice. And Alexis knows that too. She said that to me herself, said that if Owen didn't care enough about her to care about what was important to her, it was probably better they break up now rather than later."

"But that doesn't make it hurt less." He swore he could hear her wince of sympathy in her voice. "Poor Alexis. I'm sorry. Is she okay?"

He sighed. "I don't know. We had ice cream—thanks for the tip, by the way—I think it helped some—and then we watched a Disney movie and then she went upstairs saying she had homework to finish up. She wasn't crying anymore, at least, but… I just felt so useless." His voice rose a little, his frustration bursting out. "I'm a writer! I'm supposed to be good with words and now, when it comes to my own daughter being hurt, I couldn't think of anything to say, couldn't do anything. I just sat there like a lump listening to her cry and then all I did was offer her ice cream!"

He broke off abruptly, belatedly realizing how much vulnerability, how much self-doubt, he'd revealed in his uncontrolled blurt. Shit shit shit. He knew he had a tendency to logorrhea when he was nervous or upset but really, now was when his brain-to-mouth filter had to fail so catastrophically? Way to sound suave and charming, Rick, he mocked. Instead he sounded pathetic and needy, yeah, those were attractive qualities. Not. Damn it!

"Sorry, that was… a lot. Don't mind me, I'm an idiot but you knew that already, right?" He forced a small laugh. "Never mind, I'm just going to go, I could really use a drink—"

"Castle." It was a very mild version of Beckett's usual commanding tone but even so and even over the phone lines, it worked. He froze, his own unruly words, his traitorous mouth, stopping.

There was a brief pause and then she went on, her voice suddenly much softer, something close to the understanding and empathy he usually heard in her voice when she was talking to victims' families. Being on the receiving end of it was surprisingly—or not surprisingly at all—soothing. "It's okay, you know. It sounds like you did just fine in dealing with Alexis." How had he never quite realized until now how… lovely her voice could be? He was, not for the first time, amazed at the contrasts in Beckett, how she could be such a kickass, steely cop who faced down hardened killers without a blink but for all her strength, she had such compassion too.

But for possibly the first time since he'd met her, he couldn't quite believe her words. "How can you be sure of that? I had nothing useful to say and I couldn't even threaten to kill Owen either."

"At times like this, it's not about what someone says. There's no magic formula of words to make hurt go away. What matters is that you were there for Alexis, a shoulder for her to cry on."

"I just… I want to fix it for her. I'm her dad, isn't that what I'm supposed to do?" He was aware even as he said it that he sounded petulant.

"I hate to break it to you, Castle, but you can't fix everything for Alexis and you can't prevent her from ever being hurt."

"I know that," he grumbled. "It doesn't mean I have to like it."

"No, it doesn't mean that," she agreed and this time, he could definitely hear the thread of mild amusement in her voice, could picture her small faint smile.

There was a brief pause and it occurred to him that he felt… better now, calmer and somewhat less worried about Alexis. It wasn't really a surprise to him that Beckett could be so good at that, at reassuring him. What did surprise him, now that he could think about it more clearly, was just how much vulnerability, how much of his doubts about his being a good enough dad for Alexis, he had revealed. He didn't think he'd ever betrayed so much of his insecurities to anyone—no, scratch that, he was sure he hadn't. It wasn't as if he had a lot of confidantes when it came to Alexis in the first place and he tried so hard to keep his own insecurities well hidden.

Oh, for the first time, it occurred to him that maybe, in some ways, he and Beckett were not that different. They just hid their vulnerability in different ways, Beckett shielded behind her implacable Detective reserve while he went in the opposite direction and acted out, acted cocky and frivolous and generally over-the-top (although, okay, fine, not all of his cockiness was an act.)

And Beckett had listened and more than that, comforted him, reassured him in a way that he couldn't imagine any other woman he knew doing. Certainly Meredith never had and Gina wasn't exactly the reassuring type either, not that he would ever have dreamed of showing so much of his insecurity to Gina. (Which probably said a lot about why his relationship with Gina hadn't worked out.)

How could he not love this woman? For all that Beckett teased him and kept him on his toes (and he loved her teasing too), when it mattered, she listened and she cared. Maybe it was just friendship on her part—he tried not to flinch at the thought—but how could he not love her?

He sternly reminded himself that there was absolutely no way he could tell Beckett anything even remotely close to a declaration of his feelings, not yet, not least because he had no idea if she could even begin to return them.

"Thanks for listening," was what he did say and then added with deliberate lightness to distract from how fervent his thanks had sounded, "Have you always been so smart or is it just natural brilliance?"

She made a soft skeptical sound. "I was once a teenage girl too."

He tried to picture a young, teenaged Kate Beckett—a young Kate Beckett before she'd lost her mom and learned to be quite so reserved and self-sufficient. And he couldn't help but wonder if Johanna Beckett had once comforted the teenaged Kate over a breakup with ice cream and a shoulder to cry on. The same curiosity he always felt when it came to Beckett's past tugged at him but he was learning wisdom and he didn't dare ask whether her mom had once comforted her too.

Instead, he managed to joke, feigning surprise, "No, really? I always assumed you just appeared a fully grown adult, like Athena out of Zeus's forehead."

She snorted. "Hardly. Although to hear my dad talk about my teenage years, he might wish I had."

"I knew it. You were a trouble-maker when you were a teenager, weren't you, Beckett? Come on now, admit it," he threw a wheedling note into his voice.

"Nice try, Castle," she drawled. "I'm not admitting anything."

"Pretty please, with a cherry on top?"

She huffed a laugh. "What are you, five?"

"I'm practicing for when the baby comes along," he informed her with mock hauteur. "I don't want to sound too mature and intimidate the little Sprout."

"Yeah, I don't think you ever need to worry about sounding too mature," she said dryly. "Alexis is far more mature than you are."

For once, the mention of Alexis didn't quite fill him with the usual pride. "Maybe not so much today," he interjected soberly.

Beckett's voice softened. "I think Alexis will be fine, Castle. Every teenager has their heart broken at some point and Alexis knows she has you and Martha too, for that matter."

"You think Owen broke her heart?" he asked, his tone sharpening. Oh god. He really might need to murder Owen after all.

"I didn't mean it like that, Castle. I just meant, teenagers go through break-ups, it's not uncommon, and they do get past the hurt. Don't you remember when you were a teenager?"

He grimaced. Most of his teenage memories were not precisely happy ones, his boarding school days had not exactly been the high point of his life. He wasn't about to share this so instead he pretended offense. "I'm not that old, Beckett, and I'll thank you not to imply that I am. Of course I remember being a teenager."

"Just making sure. Once people reach a certain age, they do become forgetful," she returned with mock sympathy.

"Hey, I'll have you know that I'm in my prime!" he bridled in exaggerated offense.

"Yes, yes, and the Ledger named you as one of its Most Eligible Bachelors last year, and obviously the Ledger is one of the city's most reputable judges of youth and vitality."

"Now you're just mocking me, aren't you?" he tried to scowl.

"Oh, you noticed, did you?" He swore he could hear her smirk in her voice and he could certainly picture it.

"You're mean, you know that," he groused. "You could at least pretend to be more sympathetic. I'm a father in pain."

"Really, you're just a pain."

"Hey!" He was, for once, glad she couldn't see his expression because he couldn't keep from grinning, in spite of himself, but he sternly bit back his laugh.

"Alexis will be okay, Castle," she told him, soberly now. "She's smart and sensible and she has a support system in place, knows she's not alone. Just give her a few days. It'll get better."

As usual, he believed her. And he realized too just how much his spirits had lifted, his worries over Alexis eased, thanks to Beckett and her effective distraction and, yes, her needling. She really was good for him, wasn't she? It wasn't a surprise but it did make his heart clench with an almost painful surge of hope that it was a sign of how well they could work as a couple, how good they could be for each other. If only…

~To be continued…~

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