Author's Note: This chapter nearly gave me fits in writing it, maybe because it's mostly just setting things up for later chapters, and I'm still not sure how well it turned out but I will leave that to you all to decide.
Then Came Love
Chapter 22
Kate had not had a good day, had not had a good week really. She felt a vague sense of guilt over the fact that she was probably behaving badly, taking her irritation out on her dad, especially when her dad had nothing to do with her bad week but she couldn't seem to help it. And if she couldn't vent to her dad, who could she vent to?
Especially because after the week she'd had, she thought she could be forgiven the need to vent. Although it was less about the entire week, although that had been aggravating too, than about the last day or so.
They had caught a new case the day before, her first case while on restricted duty, and she already knew she was going to hate being on restricted duty.
A man had been found stabbed to death and the murderer had appeared to have made an effort to have it look like a robbery gone wrong because the man's wallet and cufflinks had been missing but the unis had found at least one form of ID about a block or so away, enough to tell them the victim's name was Ross Donaldson and he had been a professor at City College of New York.
The strange part was that he'd been found in the opposite direction of his home from where the college was and when they'd talked to his wife, she hadn't been able to tell them why he might have been there.
Kate had still been able to help in the initial stages, had gone to talk to the victim's wife and to some of his colleagues and students at the college. But then, in going through his financials, they'd realized the victim had been concealing a gambling habit, one his wife knew nothing about, so the victim had been going around to illegal gambling dens in the city. And basically from that point on, Kate had been benched because obviously there was no way Montgomery would green light her going to illegal gambling dens even if the boys went with her.
Hence why she was even having dinner with her dad in the first place. Normally, if she was in the middle of a case, she and her dad would reschedule their usual dinner and this time, she'd mentioned as much to Montgomery only to be shot down. The Captain had not quite ordered her to go to dinner with her dad but he'd certainly made it clear that he did not consider it necessary for her to work overtime on this case as things stood.
So no, for once, Kate was not happy to be meeting with her dad, especially knowing the boys were still working on the case, asking around in Vice for information about the gambling dens. Really, she was not in a good mood in general. As she was now making clear to her (poor) dad. "I know Montgomery means well but I think he's being unreasonable right now. There's no need to bench me the way he has. I can still take care of myself. I'm pregnant, not some helpless invalid. But no, the Captain's made the rules and while he says I'm still technically allowed into the field, with all the restrictions he's placed on me, in practice that's not really the case. I feel like I'm being punished and it's just not fair." She stopped abruptly, aware that she was now starting to sound petulant. Damn it.
"Oh, well, I'm sure that must be frustrating, Katie," her dad responded after a beat, his voice so bland it sounded as if he were reciting lines he'd memorized.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Could you try to sound less sympathetic, Dad?" she asked rather tartly. "I thought you'd be on my side." She inwardly winced. Ugh, now her tone had slipped perilously close to an Et tu, Brute tone. Which might have been overreacting just a little bit.
Her dad gave her a rueful, not quite apologetic look. "Sorry, Katie, but I am your dad. I might be on your side-of course I am—but it's hard for me to be very sorry that the Captain's taking steps to keep you safe."
Oh. She supposed that was true. She was a cop and as a cop, tended to be fatalistic and didn't dwell on the risks to her job because it was the only way she could function in her job. And for the same reason, she didn't often dwell on how much her dad might worry about her (although she did try to sanitize any stories she told him from work to downplay any risks.) It was her turn to make a small face. "Put like that, I suppose. But Dad, I'm a cop and I have been trained to take care of myself."
Her dad sighed a little. "I know that, Katie, but I'm a parent and to be a parent is to worry. I didn't sleep well that whole first year after you got out of the academy," he told her quietly. "I'd hear sirens in the night and imagine you off in the darkness someplace. I had nightmares where it swallowed you whole."
She swallowed, sobering. Her dad had never told her as much before. And she couldn't quite help the stinging thought that he'd then gotten drunk to keep off the nightmares. She inwardly flinched and tried to push the thought aside. She was not, absolutely was not, going to go down the road of blaming herself or blaming her dad either. They had already been through this; they had worked through her hurt and her anger and her disappointment and she'd forgiven him. She had her relationship with her dad back and it was the most important relationship in her life. (Well, at least for now. The coming of the baby would necessarily change that. Her Sprout. Hers and Castle's.)
She met her dad's eyes, noting as she didn't usually do, the lines bracketing his mouth and eyes, the signs of how much the last decade had aged him more than what could be explained by the mere passage of time. "Sorry, Dad, but being a cop, it's who I am now," she admitted softly. It was. She had become a cop because of her mom's death but now, it had become part of her identity above and beyond her mom's case, part of the person she had become since her mom's death. At this point, she thought being a cop was almost as much a part of her as the color of her eyes.
Her dad gave her a small smile. "I know that, Katie. I might worry but you know I'm proud of you too. Your work is important and I would never minimize what you do every day for the victims and for their families."
She met her dad's eyes and saw the unspoken addition that they both understood all too well just how painful it was to have a loved one's killer escape justice, that open wound that made the grief of loss so much more painful.
But she didn't try to put that into words. It wasn't necessary anyway. Instead, she managed a brighter demeanor. "Well, I do have a good team looking out for me. Espo and Ryan are two of the best and," she added with a small smile at the memory, "even Captain Montgomery has admitted that Castle's no slouch when it comes to helping us solve cases."
Her dad smiled in turn. "That reminds me. How did Captain Montgomery react to your news, aside from putting you on restricted duty?"
"I'm not sure I've ever seen Captain Montgomery look so surprised," she answered wryly. "But he took it in stride and volunteered his wife to answer any questions I might have and everything."
"That was nice of him. I'm sure you must have some questions and it'll be good to be able to talk to another woman, someone who's experienced pregnancy firsthand." Her dad's attempt at a smile faltered and after a moment, he added, very quietly, "I only wish your mom could be here to answer your questions."
She swallowed back the lump of emotion, tears pricking at the back of her eyes. Oh god, she wished that too. These days, it seemed thoughts of her mom, never very far from her thoughts, were almost constant. She did wish she could talk to her mom about all this, about the other changes to her body she could expect, about what her mom had felt and experienced when she'd been pregnant. Kate had been too young when her mom had died so her mom had never really talked to her about what pregnancy was like, the sort of pregnancy stories other women, mothers, could share. Her mom had given her the talk about safe sex but that had been about preventing pregnancy, not the experience of being pregnant. She could only suppose that if her mom had lived longer, if Kate had reached a point in life where a pregnancy was more expected, if she'd had a serious, lasting relationship for example, her mom would have started to share the real pregnancy stories but as always, she could only wonder and wish for what might have been.
But oh, how she wished she could talk to her mom. And as much as she appreciated the Captain's offer to talk to Evelyn and while she was sure talking to Evelyn would help when it came to just the physical changes, it was everything else that made her really miss her mom the most. In her moments of feeling overwhelmed and wondering if she'd been crazy to decide she could do this, have a baby, raise a kid, with the kind of life she led. Moments when she was convinced she couldn't do this, could not possibly juggle being both a cop and a mom without failing at both. What had she been thinking anyway or maybe hormones had warped her brain to make her think she could do this? Every pregnancy pamphlet or book she read, for all that they tried to be reassuring, somehow only served to make her doubt herself more.
And she wanted to talk to her mom about all this. Her mom, who had managed to juggle being a lawyer and a mom at the same time, her mom, who had always been the one person with whom she could share her fears and her doubts.
But her mom wasn't here.
This pregnancy, as with just about every other milestone event in her life, just brought home to Kate all the more powerfully that the loss of her mom was not a discrete, past event. It was a present, continuing loss, an open wound that had not healed—never really would heal, she knew.
"I know, Dad," she managed almost in a whisper. "I miss her too."
Her dad's lips pressed together in that way that indicated he was trying to control his emotions. "Oh, Katie-bug," he sighed. He forced a somewhat wan smile. "But at least you'll have Evelyn Montgomery to talk to. I don't know Evelyn well but she seems very sensible and very kind. I'm sure she'll be a great resource for you."
"She is and she will be." Kate left unsaid that it would not, could not, be the same or even close to the same as talking to her own mom but as she and her dad both knew all too well, her mom could not be replaced.
Her dad nodded, his expression still sober although not quite as grief-stricken. "Good, I'm glad. And from what I know of the Captain, I'm sure he'll be supportive too. I know how much he looks out for you." He paused and then went on, his voice trying and failing to sound almost matter-of-fact. "Sometimes I think he's been more of a father figure to you than I have been these last years."
She sucked in a breath. "Dad, no, that's not true," she protested, reaching out to grasp her dad's hand on the table and squeeze it. "As much as I respect the Captain and appreciate all he's done for me, he's not my dad." She attempted a rather wobbly smile. "The position of my dad's already been filled for years and that never changed."
Her dad tried but did not quite succeed in smiling. "Even the best actors need an understudy, Katie."
The reference to actors reminded her of Martha and, by extension, of Castle. And she abruptly added, almost leaping on the potential change of subject, "The Captain actually gave Castle a bit of a hard time, just making sure I wouldn't be alone in this."
Too late she realized that telling her dad such a thing might only remind her dad that the Captain did care and look out for her in—she refused to term it a paternal fashion—but in something of an avuncular way.
"I rest my case."
"Says the lawyer," she tried to tease mildly before sobering. "It's not like that, Dad, really. That was just the Captain's way; he and Castle are friends too so I think he wanted to get a rise out of Castle more than anything else." That may not have been the strict truth but she couldn't say anything else at the moment. And it wasn't entirely untrue. The Captain and Castle were friends and she didn't doubt that at least some corner of the Captain had enjoyed trying to intimidate Castle.
Her dad's expression eased a little. "Ah, I see. I don't think I realized the Captain and Rick are as good of friends as you say."
"Castle and the Captain have a poker group with the Mayor and a couple of the judges, other city officials. I went to one of those games earlier this year. Didn't I mention it?"
Her dad blinked, his expression easing at the memory and the distraction. "Oh, yes, I do remember you talking about a poker game with the Mayor and the Captain soon after you started working with Rick but I don't believe you mentioned it was a regular occurrence for them."
"I think it's regular enough but I know the Captain and the Mayor are too busy to meet that often so I think they only meet up every couple months."
"That makes sense," her dad agreed, thankfully sounding more like himself. "Well, from what I know of the Captain, I rather feel sorry for poor Rick if the Captain gave him a hard time like that. I hope Rick didn't mind too much."
Her expression softened unconsciously, even as she inwardly blinked. When had her dad started to call Castle by his first name so easily? "I don't think you need to worry about that, Dad. Castle can be surprisingly unflappable about some things." Just not when it came to Alexis, she mentally added, but that was somehow endearing too. Even when she hadn't liked Castle, she'd acknowledged that he was a very good dad and seemed totally at ease with his role as Alexis's dad. She hadn't quite realized how much uncertainty he harbored about how good a dad he was and it had occurred to her with renewed force that Castle had raised Alexis alone and she hadn't given him enough credit for how hard that must have been.
"Good for him," her dad observed. "And obviously, Javier and Kevin know now too. Were they as surprised as the Captain was?"
She gave a wry smile. "Even more so. Ryan's jaw basically hit the table."
"I assume he got over that. So do all your colleagues know now?"
Kate made an involuntary face. "Oh, yes, everyone knows. And from the way people are reacting, you'd think they'd never seen a pregnant woman before."
As she'd predicted and Castle had agreed, the news about her pregnancy had spread like wildfire so she felt as if the entire NYPD had heard about it within 48 hours. Okay, so she knew that was hyperbole but it was certainly true that the entirety of the 12th Precinct had heard of it. The homicide bullpen had started to resemble the concourse at Grand Central Station with the number of cops who just "happened" to find reasons to pass through it.
Her dad chuckled. "Has it been that bad?"
She couldn't help but give a little snort of disgust. "Suffice to say I don't think I've ever found my colleagues to be so irritating as I have this week. I know cops can be nosy but I really don't see what everyone finds to be so fascinating about my situation."
She was only thankful that apparently, her reputation was such that the cops whose names she barely knew, if at all, didn't try to approach her directly and it was mostly just the cops she did know who felt free to talk to her directly, although even that was bad enough. It wasn't that she minded being spoken to. No, what she minded was that basically everyone who stopped by her desk to ask if it was true that she was pregnant or ostensibly wanting to congratulate her also inserted subtle and not-so-subtle questions about Castle and her relationship with Castle. Okay, fine, so maybe it wasn't entirely fair to say the congratulations were all insincere and meant as a cover but it rather felt like that. She didn't know why in the hell anybody cared what her relationship with Castle was! It was no one's business but hers and Castle's, anyway! (Not that anyone aside from herself and Castle—and to an extent, the boys—seemed to think that.)
She had not yet heard of anyone trying to collect on the pool that had been going around about when she and Castle would sleep together but if she ever heard someone had, she'd made up her mind to have a private word with him. She might be pregnant but she was hopeful that she could still intimidate any of her colleagues if she chose.
She'd had an aggravating week but even so, she had to admit that in actual fact, she hadn't had to deal with that many direct inquiries herself. Most people had contented themselves with glancing at her (what was she, a zoo animal?) but not talking to her.
Thanks to Castle.
She had never been so glad that Castle was so much more of a people person than she was. And more specifically, she was just thankful for Castle, although she wasn't sure how to say it.
Castle had spent the better part of the week away from her desk, avoiding his usual chair, and instead spending a lot of time loitering in the break room, ostensibly assuming barista duties for the Homicide division, but mostly making himself available to the many cops who were curious about the news of her pregnancy but did not feel quite so comfortable approaching Kate herself. So Castle had all but set up court in the break room, finding, with his usual good humor and bonhomie, ways to deflect people's curiosity without actually giving much away. (She may or may not have made a point of slowly walking past the break room a few times just to be sure Castle wasn't letting slip any personal information or something. He hadn't been but she'd been abruptly reminded that Castle was used to dealing with the press, knew how to seemingly answer a question without actually answering it, and how to do so smilingly.)
He had… protected her, as odd as the term somehow seemed and yet it was the only one that fit. Castle had deliberately laid himself open to be approached and he had been, by what seemed to be every cop in Manhattan. And in the process, he had shielded her from the brunt of the curiosity.
It wasn't anything she had asked him to do nor had they even so much as spoken about it. For that matter, it wasn't anything it would have ever occurred to her to ask anyone to do. She'd just resigned herself to having to deal with a lot of intrusive questions but instead, over the course of the afternoon after she had told the boys the news and certainly in the days after that, she'd realized what he was doing, why he was not in his usual chair.
It was possibly the first time she'd been so thankful to have anyone stepping up to shield her in any way and she couldn't actually remember the last time anyone had ever tried to shield her in such a way, without so much as a word being spoken. It was… amazing and while a small corner of her thought she should find it irritating to be so protected, somehow, under these circumstances, she wasn't. It was a novel sensation, really, this sense of… trust, that someone would be there to help her, try to make her life easier, without her needing to ask or even say a word. She wasn't good at asking for help—or for that matter, admitting she might need it in the first place—but with Castle, it seemed, she didn't need to ask. He was just… there for her. This was what Alexis had meant when Alexis had said Castle was good at taking care of people.
The idea that she might need to be taken care of was still not something she liked admitting but then again, having her private life become the focus of all the precinct gossip in such an obvious way because of an unplanned pregnancy was not something she was prepared for or was comfortable with so having Castle step up the way he had, well, she was thankful.
Castle's actions had made what would have been an excruciating week just awkward and uncomfortable, a significant improvement, and had probably spared her sanity and her colleagues' lives.
Her dad gave her a small, sympathetic smile. "Well, it's already been a few days and knowing how busy your work tends to be, I'd imagine you'll be old news any day now. What about Rick? Surely he came in for his fair share of the attention too."
She managed an actual smile. "He did, but as Castle put it, he's rather used to having people speculating about his personal life so he didn't seem to be so bothered by it."
Her dad's lips twisted into a faintly rueful smile. "Ah, right, I hadn't thought of that. That reminds me, Katie, I've been thinking it's about time I meet Rick."
She blinked. "You want to meet Castle?"
Her dad raised his eyebrows at her. "Is it so surprising to want to know the father of my grandchild?"
Put like that, no, but she'd somehow expected that her dad and Castle would not need to meet until later, when the Sprout was more than just a small, barely noticeable curve of her stomach. But what made her swallow back a sudden knot of emotion was her dad's easy reference to his grandchild. (Oh god.) Knowing intellectually that her baby would be her dad's grandchild wasn't the same as hearing her dad refer to the Sprout as such. And oh, it was clear her dad was already so emotionally invested in the baby, although maybe that was to be expected now that her dad had seen the ultrasound picture. "I guess not. I can talk to Castle and see what he says, what his schedule is like, and we can set something up."
"Sounds good." Her dad gave a brief chuckle. "I feel like I know him already just from hearing you talk about him. It'd be nice to be able to put an actual face to the name and make it less odd to call him by his first name when we've never actually met."
"Castle's not exactly the type to stand on ceremony," she noted wryly, "so I don't think he'd mind if he knew."
"I didn't think he was but still. Now, how have you been feeling, Katie?"
"I've been fine, Dad, aside from being generally irritated by a lot of my coworkers this week," she added with a rueful smile. She was still sensitive to the smell of coffee so she needed to avoid the break room that was always redolent with the smell but aside from that, she thought her unpredictable bouts of nausea were starting to ease a little. She hoped, at least. Aside from the coffee, she hadn't really felt nauseous all this week.
"Glad to hear it."
Her dad didn't attempt to inquire much further into how she was feeling, although he did remind her again to make sure she got enough rest and ate healthily, and conversation became more general, shifting as she asked about his work and they caught up on other things.
Kate made an attempt to keep their conversation light and easy, the sort of easy, good-humored conversation she and her dad usually had these days. She gently teased her dad and her dad, she was relieved to find, was able to tease her right back. It was the sort of normal father-daughter exchange she had missed so much in the years of her dad's struggles, the sort of conversation she loved all the more because it was proof of just how far her relationship with her dad had come in the years since her dad had become sober.
She and her dad were fine, no, better than fine now and no matter how much she respected and liked the Captain as her friend and mentor, he could not come close to replacing her dad, any more than anyone could possibly replace her mom.
~To be continued…~
A/N 2: Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers.
