Author's Note: A quick note on the timeline (since I know it seems like this story has been going on forever), in the story, it's actually only been a little less than two months since Beckett found out she was pregnant. And since I cannot in fact spend all my time writing fanfiction, the passage of time in RL is not at all a reflection of how much time has passed in the story. And now, without further ado, the next chapter.

Then Came Love

Chapter 23

Ugh! Kate blew out a frustrated breath and pushed away the stack of papers she'd been poring over. And not for the first time, glanced over to Castle's chair beside her desk. His empty chair. She'd sent Castle to accompany the boys in their trip to the next illegal gambling den on their list of places Ross Donaldson appeared to have frequented because his fidgeting had started to grate on her nerves. He had started to protest but then, looked at her expression and stopped. Possibly deciding not to argue with the pregnant woman, a species of consideration that had irritated her too.

But now, she found herself wishing he was there. Enlivening the day with his bad jokes and his smiles, his good humor helping to somehow alleviate her frustration at being relegated to reviewing the paper trail of the victim's life. It was really starting to feel like make-work to keep her busy while the boys were out doing the real detective work. She threw a scowl at Montgomery's office, an entirely useless gesture as Montgomery wasn't even in his office at the moment. And on sudden impulse, glanced down at her stomach, the still-concealable bump that was the Sprout. I hope you appreciate the sacrifice I'm making, baby, she thought, absurdly. And then hurriedly lifted her head, feeling a little self-conscious, but fortunately it appeared no one had noticed the brief moment.

And at that moment, she heard the elevator door open and looked over to see Castle—and the boys, of course. She quickly tamped down on the flare of gladness she felt at the sight of Castle—ridiculous to be so happy to see someone she'd just seen a couple hours ago—and anyway, she couldn't grin like a loon when it was clear from the boys' expressions that they had not had a successful morning.

The boys dutifully came to her desk to report, making her feel marginally more included, and she asked about what they'd found, although she wasn't surprised to hear that this latest gambling den had proven to be a bust. They had learned the names of and talked to two men who had played poker with Ross Donaldson a couple days before his death but both men had won and Donaldson had owed them money which wasn't a motive to kill him since, as Kate and the boys both knew, dead men didn't pay their debts. Of course, murderers weren't necessarily that logical but both the boys and Castle agreed the men hadn't done it. Which set them back again.

"Okay, well, it's a process of elimination," she reasoned, concealing her own frustration. "Take a break and then you can go back out there later."

"I think I'd rather do paperwork than run into another dead end," Espo grumbled under his breath as he and Ryan left.

Castle dropped down into his seat and looked at her. "You look as if you had about as much luck as we did."

She made a face. "Less." She looked distastefully at the papers remaining, the contents of the victim's desk in his office at the college and abruptly made up her mind. It was a little early to take a lunch break but she was hungry and she really did not want to spend any more time going through papers. "I need a break too and I'm hungry."

"I can get you some—" he started to offer.

"No," she cut him off but then softened it with a small smile. "I want to get outside. There's a good burger place nearby with these great milkshakes—"

"Remy's," it was his turn to interrupt. Castle almost bounced out of his seat. "Why didn't you say so? I never say no to a trip to Remy's."

Kate stood up in turn. "How do you know about Remy's?" It was close to the precinct which made it out of the way from the loft (at least before Castle had started working with them but she knew they hadn't been to Remy's before.)

He gave her a look of mock superiority. "You underestimate my deep knowledge of the best burger places in the City. I'm something of a connoisseur."

She snorted but felt her spirits lifting at this typically Castle-like boast. "How could I forget how much useless knowledge you have," she drawled.

"Useless!" He bridled and she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing as he proceeded to pontificate in detail on why a knowledge of good burger places was an essential life skill.

He was ridiculous, there was no doubt about that, but he was also funny and after the morning she'd had, she appreciated it all the more. Appreciated him (because she really did, didn't she?)

Not that it mattered, she reminded herself. She had to focus on the baby and what would be best for the baby.

Remy's wasn't far so they made it in short order while Castle was still in the midst of expounding on the vital importance of knowing where to find good burgers. She was somehow both surprised and yet not really surprised at all that Castle was greeted with some familiarity by the wait staff. It was very like Castle to somehow make himself known, not in the celebrity sense, but just as a regular customer because it was clear from the greetings that while at least some of the staff knew who he was, they didn't view him as some unapproachable celebrity figure, just a nice guy who regularly dined there.

And it occurred to her too how unexpected it was that Castle would clearly be such a regular at a place like Remy's. Remy's wasn't grubby or anything but it was also very casual, nothing the least bit fancy or pretentious about it (there was a reason a lot of the cops at the 12th liked it). She couldn't imagine another celebrity or anyone else as rich as Castle was, who would frequent a place like Remy's. She found herself thinking of his book launch parties, both the Storm Fall one this past spring and the Heat Wave one just a couple weeks ago, the glamour and the opulence of them. Those parties were more what she would have expected of Castle and his lifestyle—and he certainly appeared comfortable in that setting—but it occurred to her that maybe that sort of fancy party lifestyle wasn't really the kind of life he actually wanted to lead.

It was oddly reassuring. The rich celebrity, the one who had photo shoots that put him on the cover of Cosmopolitan and who had big glitzy parties with actual spotlights and reporters clamoring for his attention and fine, yes, scantily-clad young woman asking him to sign their chests, wasn't the sort of person she could ever imagine as an involved parent or trusting to any degree. But that wasn't the real Castle at all, was it? The real Castle was the one who was so devoted to Alexis, the one who had fretted so much about his ability to comfort her after breaking up with Owen. The one who brought her tea and a muffin every morning and had taken to quietly keeping her supplied with healthy snacks throughout the day too (since he couldn't make her cups of coffee.) The real Castle was someone she could trust—someone she already did trust.

It might have been strange but maybe it was hearing how much Castle worried over his being there for Alexis, being enough for her, that had really solidified her trust in Castle. Ironic that something about his self-doubt had made her more certain of him but it had. Because the man who cared so much about comforting his daughter was someone who would also do everything in his power to avoid letting down or otherwise hurting the people he cared about—and as she already knew, Castle cared about the baby already, just as much as she did.

Unbidden, she heard Lanie's voice in her mind, he cares about you… She tried to put the thought aside because that wasn't the point and it didn't matter to her whether and how much Castle might care about her. Or if it did, it was only for the baby's sake.

So she told herself and tried valiantly to believe it was true.

She was rudely pulled back to reality as she heard her stomach growl and she flushed, clapping a hand over her stomach as if that would somehow silence it. She narrowed her eyes at Castle's dancing eyes. "Shut up, Castle."

"I didn't even make a sound," he protested in mock offense.

"You were not making a sound very loudly," she told him rather tartly but she greeted the arrival of their server with glasses of water and a notepad to take their orders with an alacrity she'd probably never shown before.

"What can I get for you? Your usual, Detective?"

Since Kate wasn't exactly a stranger here herself, at least not with the regular wait staff. "Actually, no," she denied. "I'll have the barbecue chicken sandwich and a chocolate milkshake." She normally didn't even like barbecue chicken sandwiches but for some reason, it sounded good today and the same went for the chocolate milkshake; her usual milkshake flavor was strawberry but today, she wanted chocolate. (Oh wait, was this what people meant when they talked about pregnancy cravings?)

Susan, the waitress, blinked but to her credit, didn't comment. "Of course. I'll get that right out for you. And for you, Rick?"

"I'll have my usual, the Remy's cheeseburger and a chocolate shake, thanks, Susan."

Once Susan had left, he quirked his eyebrows at her teasingly. "So you didn't ask for your usual order. Pregnancy cravings starting?"

She made a face at him as she felt herself flushing, ridiculously. "It's not funny, Castle, but yes, I guess so."

He lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Do you see me laughing?"

"I can sense it."

He gave her a look of exaggerated shock. "And this from the skeptical detective who insists telepathy isn't real?"

She tried but couldn't quite hold back the smirk that escaped, curving her lips. Oh, the man was irrepressible. "Reading your expression isn't the same thing as telepathy at all. It's reading basic social cues."

"You say tomato," he responded airily.

She scoffed. "Oh honestly, Castle. I expected better than such a cliché from you. I should report you to the Bureau of Overused Clichés."

Castle's expression lit. "Oh, I like that idea. We should definitely have an official Bureau of Overused Clichés that monitors that kind of thing."

"You should suggest it to the Mayor at your next poker night," she suggested dryly.

He nodded with ponderous thoughtfulness. "A very good suggestion. I might do just that," he intoned with as much solemnity as if he would be presenting a new peace treaty to the UN.

A small laugh escaped her before she could hold it back. "Good luck with that one. I'm sure the Mayor can't possibly have anything better to do with his time."

He widened his eyes at her in overblown dismay. "Beckett, how can you mock your own idea like that?"

"Very easily," she deadpanned.

It was his turn to laugh. "So I see. Well, anyway, if you do start wanting to eat anchovy pizza or deep-fried crickets or something, just give me a call anytime. I'm at your service," he declared with mock formality.

"Deep-fried crickets?!" Just the thought of it was almost enough to turn her stomach. She grimaced.

He lifted one shoulder into a half-shrug. "What, this is New York City, I'm sure there must be some place that serves them. And you needn't make that face. Crickets are known to be a good source of protein and fiber."

She choked on a laugh. Because of course Castle would say something like that. "I'll take your word for it on that."

"Just saying, if you do start craving things, let me know." His words sounded casual but his expression was not, was utterly sincere without the usual spark of humor or mischief in his eyes.

Oh, this man. She felt her heart give a ridiculous flutter that she tried to tamp down. "I don't know, Castle," she tried to drawl, "wait until I call you up at 3 a.m. asking you to bring me some special ice cream from a place at the far end of Brooklyn and see how willing you are to fetch it."

"Try it and see. For you, I'd go to Brooklyn, New Jersey, Ithaca, you name it."

She tried to tell herself it was only words and words were easy to say but the attempt to somehow deny or lessen the impact and significance of his words failed miserably. She couldn't doubt his sincerity. She'd spent enough time with Castle to know when he was just spouting nonsense for the sake of it or when he was really serious and right now, he was. He meant it. Oh lord, he really meant it.

A little voice in her mind that sounded like Lanie spoke up, I told you he cares about you.

Their eyes met and held and her lungs abruptly forgot how to function properly. He really had the bluest eyes she'd ever seen, she thought fuzzily.

"Here you go, your milkshakes. Enjoy!"

They both startled a little at Susan's cheerful trill as the milkshakes they'd ordered were placed on the table between them.

"And your food will be out shortly," Susan assured and Castle, at least, appeared to retain enough coherence to smile and thank her.

Kate blinked and mentally shook herself and couldn't decide if she was relieved or disappointed at the interruption. Not that Susan had really interrupted anything; she hadn't because nothing had been happening or about to happen. Really. Kate had already decided that she wouldn't pursue anything more with Castle and she was sticking to it. She had to focus on the baby.

She cleared her throat a little. "Thanks for the offer, Castle. I'll keep it in mind," she said rather lamely but could not imagine herself ever taking him up on it. How could she possibly call Castle up at some random hour to send him on a quest for whatever she might want? Maybe, possibly, if it was during the day and he was with her at the precinct but only if it was something easy to find. But other than that, no, he had his own life and he was not her boyfriend or her husband or anything. They were friends, just friends, even if they were going to be co-parenting together.

"Well, I meant it." he paused and then added with what seemed like rather forced brightness, "The milkshakes look good."

She latched onto the change of topic with alacrity. "They always are. I've been thinking about these milkshakes all morning."

Castle smiled easily. "No shame in that. I think I've had dreams about Remy's milkshakes a few times."

"How did you even find out about this place? It's not exactly close to the loft."

He shot her a look of mock superiority. "Do you think I'm that much of a home body that I never venture more than 10 blocks away from the loft or something? I'll have you know that I'm a native of the city and I've probably visited every corner of it at some point or another."

"Spare me your life story," she told him dryly. "And just answer the question."

"Spoilsport. To answer your question, one of Alexis's good friends used to live not far from here so I used to come to this area regularly dropping Alexis off for play dates or birthday parties, that sort of thing, and discovered this place then and once I realized how good the burgers and shakes were, I kept coming back."

He really must have been coming here for years. No wonder the wait staff knew him. "How is Alexis doing?" As much as Kate tried to tell herself Alexis's breaking up with Owen was not actually Kate's fault, it was hard not to feel a little bit responsible when it appeared her own advice to Alexis had at least precipitated the conversation that had led to the break-up. And she couldn't help a flutter of apprehension at the thought that she was only going to face yet more challenges like this and how could she possibly manage to be a mom when she had no idea what she was doing?

At least, she told herself, surely she couldn't mess up too badly, scar the Sprout too badly, when there would also be Castle. Castle, who already knew how to be a good dad. As was proven by the conversation they were having right now.

Castle sobered, grimacing. "She's still a little down about the break-up. Not that she's said as much to me but I can tell. She's been spending more time in her room, saying she has a lot of homework, but I know my daughter."

"It's only been a few days, Castle. Give her some time."

"I know that but I don't have to like it," he groused a little. "I've decided Alexis should just never date again. My heart can't take it."

She sternly bit back a smile. "Sorry, Castle, but that's not a rule you'll be able to enforce. Trust me on that."

He heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Must you always burst my bubble, Beckett?"

She raised her eyebrows at him teasingly. "Would you rather I lied?"

"Yes!" he affirmed ridiculously.

"All right. Then I'm sure Alexis will be happy to listen to you and never date again. She'll live a life of complete celibacy," she deadpanned.

He paused a telltale beat. "Liar."

She burst out laughing at his riposte. He laughed with her and her insides reacted—stupidly, dangerously—to the sound, the sight of his eyes alight with humor, the curve of his mouth.

"You're ridiculous, you know that," she told him, trying to sound tart rather than (oh god) fond.

He nodded with mock pride. "I get that a lot."

She had to laugh again. "Incorrigible."

"Ooh, good word, I approve."

"Thank you, Mr. Wordsmith," she responded with exaggerated gravity. "I try."

Her tease lost its impact as their food arrived at that moment, causing a brief distraction.

She really was very hungry, she realized, greeting the arrival of the food with an eagerness she couldn't remember feeling in, oh, possibly ever. She pulled her plate towards her with barely a glance to spare for Castle and his burger.

She didn't know why she was suddenly mouth-wateringly eager for this barbecue chicken sandwich when she wasn't normally a barbecue chicken fan but today, somehow, she was. Maybe the baby liked barbecue chicken, she thought, absurdly, as she started eating. And oh, it really hit the spot.

It seemed as if she barely blinked but somehow before she knew it, half the sandwich was gone before she paused to take a drink of water and then another sip of her milkshake. Her eyes caught Castle's and she felt heat scorch her cheeks at the belated realization of her uncouth behavior. Oh god, she'd practically shoveled her sandwich into her mouth, devoured it. She supposed she should just be thankful that she hadn't been chewing with her mouth open or wiping her mouth with her sleeve or something.

Her dad would not approve.

She set her milkshake glass down and dabbed at her mouth with careful delicacy. "I was hungry," she offered lamely and then could have kicked herself for saying something so inane. What was wrong with her?

Castle's eyes were glinting with some humor but to his credit, his lips were straight and his tone was fairly bland. "You're pregnant, it's to be expected. Besides, the food here is really good." As if to prove it, he took a large bite of his burger and then tried to grin at her, his cheeks bulging like some chipmunk's and she felt a laugh bubble up inside her.

Oh, this man! Treacherous warmth spread inside her as she looked at him, met his eyes. He looked so… young (adorably so) as he grinned around his mouthful of burger. He looked ridiculous and he had to know it but clearly had no qualms about it in order to spare her embarrassment. She didn't think she'd ever met a man who was so willing to laugh at himself and it struck her all the more because he was, well, famous and could be so cocky sometimes.

How could any woman not like him? How could she not like him?

Because she did like him, a lot, even. (Oh god.)

"My dad says he wants to meet you," she blurted out.

Castle had been taking a drink of his water and he choked, coughing, at her words. Um, oops.

He coughed a little more and then took another drink. "Your dad wants to meet me?" he repeated, his eyes flaring wide for a moment.

"Yeah." She lifted a shoulder in a poor attempt at nonchalance. "I mean, you are the father of his grandchild."

Castle coughed again and then cleared his throat. "I, uh… hadn't thought of it like that."

She gave him a small grimace of sympathy. "I hadn't either, in all honesty, not until my dad said it. Do you mind?"

"No, no, of course I don't mind. It's only natural and I'd be happy to meet your dad," Castle hurriedly assured her with a shade too much brightness.

He was nervous about this, she thought, and something inside her softened.

"Okay. I don't know what your schedule is like this next week…"

"It's the opening night of my mother's new play on Thursday so Alexis and I will be busy that evening. We'll take my mother out for an early dinner and then watch the show and applaud with appropriate enthusiasm afterwards, no matter what the show was like," he added with a wry face. "But other than that, I'm pretty free."

She nodded. "Then maybe we can have dinner on Friday or Saturday, then. I'll check with my dad and see which day he'll prefer."

"Great. I'm looking forward to it," he responded with every appearance of sincerity.

"Thanks, Castle," she said impulsively.

"For what?"

She shrugged, flushing a little. "Just… everything." She waved a hand in a lame gesture. She didn't really know how to put into words what it meant, not only his easy agreement to meeting with her dad (which, okay, would have been a little hard for him to refuse), but also the way he'd stepped up and tried to shield her from her gossiping colleagues, the way he had just… been there for her since she'd told him about the baby. This baby was going to turn his life upside down too, no less than it was hers, and he hadn't been expecting it any more than she had been but he had taken it all in stride and made all this easier for her. She thought about Lanie's, the Captain's, even Espo's reactions to the news, the varying degrees of concern and suspicion as if to highlight the not-so-positive ways in which many men would have reacted to finding themselves in such a situation, an unexpected pregnancy after a one-night stand. But not Castle. "You've… helped." She almost cringed. It was lame, so very lame, to only say that considering everything but she wasn't good with words, not when it came to expressing what she really thought or felt.

"Always," he said simply. And amazingly, he didn't seem to find anything lacking or lame in what she'd said.

Always. The word made her breath momentarily catch, her heart seeming to clench with something like longing. She didn't believe in words like always or forever, not since her mom had died and she'd learned all too painfully just how brutally a love could be snatched away, how short life could be. But for one crazy moment, she wanted to believe it. Wanted to believe it could really be.

Their eyes met and held as her breath stalled in her lungs. Her eyes dropped almost of their own volition to his lips and she found herself remembering suddenly what it had been like to kiss him, the softness of his lips, the heat of his mouth, the taste of him…

He blinked and took a sip of his water, clearing his throat a little. "I've been thinking," he began.

"Yeah?" her voice came out a little breathless and why was her mouth suddenly dry?

"I think we might be looking in the wrong place," he said.

Huh, what? She blinked. "The wrong place?" she parroted.

"Yeah, with the case," he clarified.

Oh, the case. Of course the case. It was stupid to feel as if her heart had dropped into her stomach as she was jolted back to stark reality. She was still a detective, even if she did feel like she'd been benched, and they were in the middle of a case. She should be focusing on that.

"We've looked into Donaldson's gambling," he went on, "but from what we've learned, he wasn't, well, that bad at it."

She frowned a little, her brain starting to function. "You said he owed the two guys from this morning money because the last time he played them, he lost."

"Yeah, but as they pointed out, it's bad business to kill people who owe you money. So far, his gambling hasn't led us anywhere and I'm beginning to wonder if maybe his gambling is a red herring and the real motive for his murder is something else."

"But we haven't found anything else suspicious. His wife seems distraught; her alibi's weak but there are no red flags with her. And none of his students who we talked to had any complaints about him." Of course, people tended to lie even if they had disliked the victim. De mortuis nil nisi bonum and all that but at the moment, they had no reason to disbelieve anyone in particular.

"I know," he agreed. "I just think there might be something we're not seeing."

It was possible, of course, but part of her wondered if her willingness to believe him had more to do with her own wish to be more involved in the case and as long as gambling was the motive, she wouldn't be. And yet, she had learned enough to trust Castle's instincts, at least when he was serious. "Based on what?"

He quirked a small, self-deprecating smile. "It's how I'd write it?"

A smirk curved her lips. "Oh, well, when you get to the point of writing who the killer is, let us know."

"I know, I know." His lips twisted ruefully.

"But it's not a bad idea," she conceded.

"So you agree?" he perked up.

"We can look more closely into the other aspects of his life. It can't hurt, at any rate."

"Thanks."

It was her turn to blink at him. "For what?"

"For listening and not dismissing my theory since I know it's not based on any evidence right now."

She felt stupid heat creep into her cheeks and managed a shrug. "We're partners, right?"

His eyes lit up as did his smile. "Partners."

Yes, they were partners, at work and in parenting, and that would be enough. (Wouldn't it?).

~To be continued…~

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