Author's Note: This is a chapter I've been planning for a long time and I can only hope it came out well but I will leave that to you to decide…
Then Came Love
Chapter 32
For almost the first time, Kate was thankful to have a paperwork day without another case coming up. She hadn't really had a chance to think about it but since the Matthew Freeman case over Halloween two weeks ago, they hadn't had a full day without a case.
Not because actually doing paperwork was more enjoyable than it ever was but at least, she wasn't having to watch as the boys went out to chase down leads or bring in suspects, all the actual detective work she was no longer allowed to do. Instead, she could watch as the boys and Castle engaged in some of their usual ribbing and paperwork day hijinks, at one point having a contest to see whose paper plane could fly the farthest. (She hid a smile as it occurred to her that not only Castle but the boys too would no doubt have lots of fun playing with the Sprout. This baby, who would have two honorary uncles in the boys, an aunt in Lanie, and something like a proxy grandfather in the Captain.)
And she couldn't help but feel a little spurt of warmth inside her at the way Castle still faithfully returned to her, in between his bouts of silliness with the boys, making sure she was well supplied with tea and snacks and, yes, his little quips and jokes to enliven her day.
But perhaps predictably, with the way this fall was going, one day without a case was the only reprieve they had as the next morning brought a call about a body being found. Thanks to her duty status, the uniforms and the boys had already combed the scene and Castle was waiting for her when she was finally cleared to join them and just one look at Castle's face told her this was going to be one of their bad cases.
"You okay?" she asked as a quick aside as Castle came to greet her.
He tried for a reassuring expression that didn't quite make it. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just… the victim. Well, you'll see."
That less-than-reassuring statement already had her tensing as the boys approached.
"What have we got?"
Ryan's eyes looked troubled too and even Espo was grim as he answered, "Young, Caucasian female, apparent robbery, no purse, watch or jewelry on her. Signs of violence."
She hated that she had to ask but she did. "Sexual assault?"
Ryan shook his head. "No sign of that."
That was something at least. "Do we know her name?"
Ryan shook his head. "Not yet. Unis are still looking for her purse, wallet, that sort of thing."
"She looks young; she might be a student," Castle offered, his expression bleak.
She glanced at him and knew he was thinking of Alexis.
Behind them, they heard a shout from one of the unis and the boys hurried over while she and Castle took the moment to approach the body.
There was a dumpster nearby where Lanie was kneeling by the body and Kate was trained enough to start breathing through her mouth but her precautions didn't entirely work as she neared enough to see the girl's face, looking strangely, terribly young and so vulnerable with the bruising and the blood. Kate felt sudden tears stinging her eyes and hurriedly blinked them back as she gave an involuntary little gasp–and then felt her stomach lurch on a swell of nausea, as the gasp had her breathing through her nose, the smell from the alley and the dumpster assaulting her. She shut her eyes and clamped her mouth shut as her feet froze and then she felt a hand on her arm, heard Castle's voice.
"Beckett, you okay?"
She turned her hand to grip his arm blindly, let his touch steady her as she forced herself to slow her breathing through her mouth, in and out. She blinked her eyes open, focused on his face. "I'm… okay. Just give me a minute," she managed.
"You don't have to inspect the body here," he offered, although his tone indicated he didn't really believe his own words.
She steeled herself. "I do," she contradicted quietly. She always did, no matter how gruesome the sight. She felt she owed it to the victims, a gesture of acknowledgement or respect, to mark how and where they died, and with the understanding that no matter how tough it sometimes was for her, it was always worse for the victim.
Castle didn't look happy but to his credit, he didn't argue, only nodded in understanding.
Her one concession to her own weakness was to keep a hold on his arm, not quite sure why since she didn't need it for balance or support but something about the solid strength of his arm beneath her hand was comforting.
"Dr. Parish," she greeted.
Lanie glanced up, her eyes immediately focusing on Kate's hand on Castle's arm and then up at Kate's face with a small twitch of her eyebrows, but under the circumstances, not even Lanie commented aloud, although Kate knew she'd be hearing about it from Lanie later. "Beckett." She gently turned the victim's head to reveal a bloody gash on the back of her head. "I think this is the cause of death. If I had to guess, someone hit her and she fell back, hit her head on the edge of the dumpster." she nodded her head in the direction of the dumpster.
Kate looked over at the dumpster and saw the discoloration of blood at the corner. Her stomach rolled again and she hurriedly averted her eyes. Normally, she would inspect the dumpster closer but for once, she decided it wasn't necessary. CSU would process it and the boys would have noted it too.
She nodded. "Thanks, Lanie." And turned as she heard Espo call her name.
She dropped her hold on Castle's arm as they neared the end of the alley, meeting the boys.
"Unis found a purse about a block away, wallet with an ID but no cash or credit cards. The vic's name is Lyla Bernard, 20 years old, from Pennsylvania," Espo told her.
She accepted the victim's wallet. "Okay, thanks. I'll head back to the precinct, see what I can find out about Lyla. You guys stay here and finish canvassing the scene, see if anyone heard or saw anything."
The boys nodded and she and Castle returned to the precinct, the car ride passing in morose silence as she knew they were both thinking about Lyla Bernard.
Back at the precinct, a search of the DMV database into Lyla Bernard led her to the contact information for her next of kin, her mother, Stephanie Bernard.
Kate picked up her phone, trying to steel herself for what was undoubtedly the worst and hardest part of her job, having to tell the next of kin the news.
"Hello?"
"Hello, is this Mrs. Bernard?"
"It's Ms., actually, but yes, I'm Stephanie Bernard. Who is this?" The woman's voice sounded pleasant, friendly.
"I'm Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD–"
"The police?" Ms. Bernard interrupted, fear creeping into her voice, and Kate allowed herself a small wince. She hated this too, the way everyone always reacted with such fear to the mere mention of her title. It was understandable, of course, police generally didn't contact people with good news but it didn't make it any easier to hear either. "This is about Lyla, isn't it? What's happened to my daughter?"
She didn't know why but she involuntarily glanced at Castle, met his eyes, as she answered as gently as she could, "Yes, I'm calling about Lyla. I'm very sorry to tell you this but Lyla has… passed away." She normally didn't use the gentler euphemism but at that moment, the harsher word 'died' or worse 'been killed' got stuck in her throat.
Kate shut her eyes against the prick of tears as Ms. Bernard broke down into gasping sobs. She didn't know how many times she'd had to break this news to people but it never got any easier. She was usually better able to keep her emotions under control, behind the steel-padlocked armor she'd built up for the job, but these days, her control was wavering, if not almost nonexistent. And this case, the youth of the victim, the whole situation, made it worse because it was clear Ms. Bernard was a single mother too. Oh god. She sucked in a shaky breath, swallowing back the lump of emotion in her throat, and then opened her eyes as she felt Castle's hand close over hers, met his eyes, so soft and warm and filled with understanding. It was a moment of weakness and she knew it in some corner of her mind but she turned her hand to grasp his in return, clutching it as if something about the firm clasp of his hand would help her keep her own emotions at bay.
And somehow, it worked, at least allowing her to keep it together for the brief conversation asking Ms. Bernard to come into the city for the official identification of the body–oh god–and the necessary questioning about anything Ms. Bernard might know about her daughter's life and what had led to her death.
The only small mercy, such as it was, was that Ms. Bernard lived just outside Philadelphia and was able to shakily promise to come into the precinct that afternoon.
In the meantime, Ms. Bernard had given them Lyla's address in the city which gave her and Castle something to do–and provided something to focus on other than the tragedy of it all.
Lyla's small studio didn't yield much useful information about her life, at least not what might have gotten her killed. They found her laptop, some notebooks, and some other books that showed she'd been a college student, signs of a boyfriend–who Kate made a mental note to ask Ms. Bernard about–but nothing that seemed like any sort of obvious lead.
Ms. Bernard arrived at the precinct later that afternoon. Kate could see that at normal times, Ms. Bernard was likely to be attractive but not today, her face pale and haggard and ravaged by tears. Just the sight of her had Kate's throat tightening again and she had to forcibly keep her hand from resting on her stomach in the tell-tale gesture. She couldn't do anything to flaunt her own condition in front of this woman who had just lost her daughter under the worst possible circumstances.
Castle glanced at Kate and smoothly stepped up, bringing Ms. Bernard a cup of water and ushering her to sit down as he offered his condolences, his voice softer than she usually heard it. It was closer to his tone when she mentioned her mom, she thought with another quick pang.
"Thank you for coming in, Ms. Bernard," Kate managed. "Can you tell us about your daughter, what she's been doing recently?" It was procedure but she found she couldn't ask in so many words if Ms. Bernard knew of anyone who would want to hurt her daughter.
To her horror, the question made Ms. Bernard dissolve into tears again, ragged, barely comprehensible words spilling from her in spurts in between sobs, a messy, disorganized tale that Kate had to mentally sort through like pieces of a puzzle. But slowly, painfully, the picture became clear. Ms. Bernard was a single mom so it had only been her and Lyla for most of Lyla's life, their relationship close until a couple years ago when Lyla left for college, the inevitable rebellion coming. And it had blown up recently because they'd had a fight about a month ago when Lyla had decided to drop out of college and planned to move in with her boyfriend of whom Ms. Bernard didn't approve so they'd barely spoken in the last month.
The boyfriend was a definite person of interest. Kate met Castle's eyes and he was the one to lean forward. "This boyfriend, what can you tell us about him?"
Ms. Bernard's watery words stopped on a gasp but she answered with an obvious attempt at calming herself. "He was older than Lyla, about 25, I think. I just… I didn't trust him, thought he was a bad influence. He works part-time, as a bartender…"
"What's his name?" Kate asked gently.
"Max something, I think it starts with S. I don't know, I can't think if Lyla ever told me his full name. She knew I didn't like him and we argued but I would have forgiven her! I should have tried harder, should have called more or done something…"
"Lyla was young. Girls don't listen to warnings about their boyfriends at that age," Kate offered out of her own memories. She certainly hadn't been willing to listen to her parents' opinions about her boyfriends at that age.
Ms. Bernard gulped a little as she choked on another sob. "Do you have children?"
"I do," Castle interjected as Kate hesitated. "A teenage daughter. Detective Beckett is right; they don't listen to warnings about boys."
"But I could have talked to her, explained to her… I just… got so upset. Dropping out of school and then this boyfriend; it seems like she's making a mess of her life and–" She broke off on something between a gasp and a whimper at the reminder that the present tense was no longer appropriate, that Lyla's life was over.
"Can you tell us, did Lyla ever mention the name of the bar where Max worked?" Castle asked, his voice almost soothing in spite of the question. It occurred to her that his presence at this interview was helpful. It wasn't the first time she had noted his ability to put people at ease but his empathy in talking to another parent might never have been so obvious and it was clearly having an effect on Ms. Bernard.
"I don't–I can't remember–" her voice cracked and she went on, her voice shaking, "I'm sorry, I can't think straight right now."
"That's understandable. There's no rush," Castle told her reassuringly. "Try and think back to some of your conversations with Lyla from before."
Ms. Bernard nodded and wiped at her cheeks with another choked sob.
They waited patiently and Kate tried, again, to push her own emotions behind her usual professional shield.
"I–um–it started with an F-something–Finney's or maybe Finley's, something like that. Around East 24th."
Kate caught Castle's glance. That was getting them somewhere. From the sound of it, the bar wasn't far from where Lyla's body had been found. And from the bar, finding a bartender named Max wouldn't be too difficult either.
"Thank you."
"Do you think he did this to her? Oh god, this is my fault. I knew I shouldn't have let her go, should have talked to her more. Shouldn't have lost my temper and now… I'm a terrible mother. I failed her, failed my Lyla. This is my fault, I should have protected her, should have done something more, should have–"
Kate inwardly flinched, felt as if the woman's despairing words were lashing at her. She opened her mouth but Castle spoke up before she could.
"It's not your fault, Ms. Bernard. It's the fault of the person who killed her."
Kate darted a quick, rather startled glance at him at his quoting her own words, what she'd said to Melissa Talbot weeks ago. He didn't meet her eyes, stayed focused on Ms. Bernard, but there was a touch of something in his tone and she knew he remembered, was quoting her deliberately. "There was nothing you could have done, I promise you. One parent to another, it's not possible to protect our kids from everything."
Castle's voice and his words had their effect on Ms. Bernard, calmed her a little, at least enough to allow them to finish the interview with a few more questions but Ms. Bernard had been telling the truth in not knowing much about what Lyla had been doing recently since their fight so she could not tell them much more. It looked like the boyfriend would need to be their main source and possible suspect too.
Kate was too experienced–and usually had enough control–to keep from making promises about finding out what had happened, catching the killer, but faced with Ms. Bernard's devastation–and maybe, yes, the lingering awareness that the other woman was a single mom too–had her promising Ms. Bernard that she would find out who had done this to Lyla. She caught Castle's quick, surprised look but didn't allow herself to meet his gaze. She knew she shouldn't have said it but the words had slipped out and now she was bound. But then she was always bound by her own promises to herself, to the victims, to find out the truth.
Once Ms. Bernard had gone, she turned to Castle. "Will you tell the boys, have them try to track down this Max? I'll update the board."
He agreed and she returned to her desk, to the murder board, her eyes finding Lyla's picture, the one from her driver's license, looking so young and so innocent. At the start of the interview, Ms. Bernard had pulled out an old picture from her wallet, sobbed over it, and in her mind's eye, she pulled up the remembered image, Lyla as a little girl, her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, grinning the wide, gap-toothed grin of early childhood. And now…
Ms. Bernard's sobs, her guilt and her self-reproaches, seemed to echo in Kate's mind. She thought of what it must have been like, raising Lyla alone and now, what would she do, how would she go on?
God, being a parent was a terrifying thing.
The thought had her hand automatically, instinctively going to the small curve of her stomach, a swell of panic rising inside her. Oh god, how could she do this? What did she know about kids anyway and she had to admit she wasn't the most patient of people to begin with and she didn't know what she was doing and–
The sound of a phone ringing had her starting a little, belatedly realizing where she was, standing in the middle of the bullpen with her hand on her stomach–and she abruptly couldn't deal with it, trying to preserve a calm face, her work demeanor.
And she fled. Blindly, unthinkingly, seeking out the most private place she could think of in the precinct, the back staircase, used mainly for emergencies. She almost stumbled down half the flight of stairs to the landing and then sagged against the wall, slowly sinking to the floor and wrapping her arms around her knees and tried to keep her breaths steady, tried not to fall apart.
She'd been trying to deny or bury all her doubts and fears about becoming a mom for weeks, even months now, but buried things had a way of taking root and spreading feelers just beneath the surface and now, the little seeds of fear had become an ungovernable jungle of panic inside her.
And Ms. Bernard's despair, her guilt, had yanked away what little remained of the wall she tried to keep around her fears.
Oh god, she couldn't do this, be a mom. What had she been thinking, to think she could do this? She might love this baby already but that didn't mean she knew how to be a mom or would be any good at it! Ms. Bernard's self-reproach about having failed Lyla echoed in her mind and she inwardly flinched. God, how would she bear it if she ended up failing her baby and at that moment, she was convinced she was bound to fail, would make all sorts of mistakes because she had no idea what she was doing.
She didn't know anything about babies, had never been comfortable with babies or with young kids. Becoming a mom hadn't been anywhere on her radar as something she might be interested in, at least not in the near term and with her job, it hadn't really seemed practical either. It had always just been something she thought about as a distant, vague possibility until now, until this pregnancy, so unexpected, had overturned everything. And she still didn't feel any more ready to be a mom than she had been months ago. The only difference was that now, she'd seen the ultrasound, heard the baby's heartbeat, and she loved this baby so much already and the terror that she might fail the baby, be a bad mom, was very real and very overwhelming.
Her job was not conducive to having kids and her job aside, she didn't know what she would do about any of the changes, challenges, that were coming. Reading pamphlets or books wasn't the same thing as actual knowledge; it was all so theoretical and she knew the actual reality of taking care of a baby had to be very different. She really didn't have the first idea of how to take care of a baby…
She stiffened a little as she vaguely heard the sound of the door to the stairwell opening.
"Beckett?"
Castle. She swore she didn't make a sound and she knew she couldn't be seen from the doorway but as if he had some sort of sixth sense, she heard his footsteps and then felt his gaze. "Beckett!"
And then he was there, lowering himself to sit beside her. She felt his warmth against her side but didn't look up at him.
She was expecting him to ask what was wrong, if she was okay, but he didn't. He stayed silent but after a few minutes, he slid his arm around her shoulders and still didn't say anything.
She wasn't sure why but something about his silence, his undemanding presence, and yes, the solid warmth of his body against her had her listing slowly, almost imperceptibly, into him. He was just so… warm and strong and… there for her.
"It's okay," he murmured after a while, "it's going to be okay."
He meant to be reassuring, comforting, she knew but the mere fact that he had no idea what was troubling her, except a guess that it had to do with Lyla Bernard, prodded at her.
"You don't know that," she contradicted, only for the disagreement to be undercut by the tell-tale waver in her voice, something almost approaching a sob escaping her. "What if I'm a terrible mom?"
She felt him jerk a little. "What are you talking about?"
She didn't know what about his tone or his words had the words come spilling out of her but somehow, they did. "I'm not a baby person, the sort of person who sees babies and wants to coo over them and cuddle them–I'm not that kind of person. I don't know anything about babies or kids in general. But now I'm pregnant and I have no idea what I'm doing and what if I'm a terrible mom?"
"You're going to be a great mom."
His certainty, as if he was stating a basic fact of the universe on par with the law of gravity, had a huff escaping her. Hadn't he been listening? "How can you be so sure of that? I've never even changed a diaper in my life!"
A sound that was the unmistakable beginnings of a laugh, even as he tried to turn it into a cough, escaped him and she stiffened. "Castle!" Now, he was laughing at her? She felt a flicker of hurt break through her worry. Why had she thought she could talk to him about this anyway? (Not that she could have talked to anyone else about this either.)
"Beckett–Kate, listen to me."
Almost unwillingly, his use of her first name got her attention and she finally looked up at him, met his eyes to see that he was entirely sober now. She could tell when he was only feigning seriousness and he wasn't now, his eyes soft and as sincere as she'd ever seen them, soothing the little sore spot inside her at his initial chuckle. He wasn't laughing at her.
"You are going to be an incredible mom," he stated clearly.
"But how can you be sure?" Her words came out almost in a whisper, sounding more vulnerable than she cared to admit–except that was absurd because she'd already said plenty to betray her vulnerability.
"I saw you with that little girl, Angela Candela, remember, and even though you were a stranger to you, she trusted you."
"She's a baby; she doesn't know enough to mistrust strangers."
"Kids have surprisingly good instincts about people. And it's not just that. There's the way you've talked to Alexis, about Owen and about the foreign exchange program. Alexis trusts you too and I know Alexis is a pretty decent judge of character."
"I was only trying to be Alexis's friend, not her mom. And I'm not sure how much I really helped Alexis anyway."
Castle's lips twisted a little, his eyes clouding over. "Do you know how old Alexis was when Meredith left?"
The abrupt question left her blinking a little. It was rhetorical, she knew, but she shook her head a little anyway, something inside her a little nervous of what was to come. She hadn't meant to bring up the subject of Meredith and from Castle's expression, Meredith's absentee motherhood bothered him more than he had ever let on.
"Alexis wasn't even 3 yet. Meredith and I–well, we fought, we don't need to get into why–and she left."
Oh, wait, Kate abruptly remembered the way Castle had guessed what Eliska Sokol had been trying to prove about Zane Talbot, the DNA test. She thought she knew exactly what Meredith and Castle had fought about–Meredith had cheated on Castle and Castle had found out about it. And it occurred to her too that Meredith's betrayal might have been what was really on Castle's mind when he found out how Scarlett had duped him. She inwardly winced–she really hadn't meant to bring all this up.
"I got full custody. I would have fought for it, was ready to fight for Alexis, but I didn't need to because Meredith never even asked. She just left, as if Alexis wasn't really her concern, and even now, Alexis only sees her about once a year, if that, and most years, Meredith forgets Alexis's birthday or remembers it months after the fact." He paused, managing a small rueful grimace. "I used to buy Alexis two birthday gifts every year, one from me and one supposedly from Meredith, going so far as to put one gift in the mail to make it seem like Meredith had sent it. I did that every year until Alexis was 10."
Oh. Her heart hurt and she wasn't sure if it was more at the thought of a little Alexis, whose own mother forgot her birthday, or Castle, doing such a thing to protect his daughter from the hurt of that knowledge. "Why did you stop?"
Castle's lips twisted into an expression that somehow managed to be both sad and proud at the same time, his gaze becoming absent, no doubt remembering that time. "Alexis figured out what I was doing, thanked me for both gifts and told me I didn't need to buy her two gifts anymore."
He blinked and focused on her again. "You are different from Meredith. You care about people. It's in everything you do, the way you worried about what you said to Alexis about Owen before they broke up. In Alexis's entire life, I can pretty much guarantee you that Meredith has never worried even half that much over how her actions and words might affect Alexis." There was a hard edge to his voice she didn't think she'd ever heard. He had always seemed able to make light of Meredith's absentee parenting but it occurred to her that his flippancy was just an act, a façade.
His voice softened. "You spend your entire life trying to help people. You give of yourself all the time, Kate, and that's what being a parent is really all about. Everything else, knowing about babies or how to change a diaper, that's just details, something you'll learn. What's important is how much you care." Oh, his voice, she thought fuzzily, his voice was so soft, so sure, and filled with a sincerity and an emotion she didn't dare to try to name. He met her eyes, his expression warming in a way that had her heart fluttering wildly in her chest. "You know what I thought when I first met you?"
She had never seen eyes so deeply blue, it was almost mesmerizing. Her mouth had gone unaccountably dry and she found she couldn't speak, only shook her head.
"That you were a mystery I was never going to solve."
Only Castle would phrase it like that and she didn't know how or why it suddenly seemed like the best, most profound, compliment she had ever received.
"And even now, after spending all this time with you, I'm still amazed at the depths of your strength, your heart. So believe me when I tell you that you are going to be an incredible mom–"
She kissed him.
She didn't mean to do it, not really, but his words were so sweet and so much what she needed to hear. Listening to him, she could believe that she really could do this, figure out how to be a mom, be even half as good a mom as he already believed she would be. It was humbling and overwhelming and his voice was so soft and his eyes so warm and he was just so… close and really, she would have had to be more than human to resist kissing him.
The kiss started out gently, an almost chaste touch of her lips to his, his lips so warm and soft against hers. One of her hands came up to touch his cheek and she drifted closer to him and he angled his head, his tongue sliding over the seam of her lips. It was the most natural thing in the world to part her lips and then the kiss deepened, became a leisurely, thorough–and utterly devastating–exploration of her mouth. She could taste him and oh, she remembered his taste. (Even after so many months…) Her head spun and she was vaguely aware of hearing a breathy moan as she sank into him and oh god, he was such a good kisser…
She had no sense of time passing–it could have been hours and she wouldn't have noticed–could have spent hours, days, with his mouth working over hers just like this. She didn't know how she had spent the last four months not kissing him since That Night but at the moment, she was sure she never wanted to go another four days without kissing him–four hours, even…
The ring of her cell phone had them both startling back as if they'd been electrocuted and she had to blink more than a couple times before she returned to reality enough to pull out her phone from her blazer pocket. "Beckett." And hoped whoever was on the other end couldn't tell or wouldn't notice that she sounded breathless and distracted.
"Beckett, we found the boyfriend, Max Snyder. We'll bring him in," Espo's voice told her.
Boyfriend–what?–it took an embarrassingly long second before she could even remember what Espo was talking about. Lyla's boyfriend–and they were in the middle of a case. This was no time to be… making out with Castle (oh god). "Oh, right, thanks for the head's up," she managed.
"No sweat. See ya." Espo ended the call and she put her phone away, finally looking at Castle. Her heart gave an absurd little dance in her chest because his lips were still a little swollen–because of her–and he was looking at her as if… she couldn't think of a comparison.
"That was Espo. The boys found the boyfriend and are bringing him in now." She paused, flushing, as she bit her lip for a moment, feeling absurdly self-conscious now that some coherence had returned to her. Oh god, she'd kissed him. She'd kissed Castle–and he'd kissed her and now–well, now everything would have to be different. "So I guess, we need to talk, after this case?"
He nodded a few more times than strictly necessary. "After this case," he agreed.
After this case, they would talk. And well, kiss some more. Oh god, was she really doing this, starting a relationship with Castle on top of preparing to be parents? She wanted it–she did–and maybe it was some lingering effect the fears he had soothed–or maybe it was his kiss–but for once, at the moment, her fears about starting a relationship with Castle were muted, overridden by… oh, just him, everything about him that seemed to tug her to him.
After another long moment, he blinked and seemed to come to a belated realization of where they were, still sitting on the floor in the dingy stairwell of the precinct of all places, and pushed himself to his feet. Once he was standing, he offered her his hand, which she accepted with a little grimace. She might not be quite there yet but standing up from sitting on the floor like this, she was aware of being more… ungainly than she'd used to be, the curve of her stomach somehow throwing off her sense of balance in ways she wasn't used to.
But she did make it to her feet although Castle retained his grip on her hand. "Beckett?"
"Hmm?"
"Just tell me this wasn't a one-time thing."
"No" she blurted out unthinkingly. It could not be a one-time thing if only because now that she'd done it, she really didn't have any faith in her ability to keep from kissing him again. And again. She tugged him closer and kissed him again, quickly this time, and somehow, it felt like a promise.
"So, not a one-time thing then?" The man was teasing her now, a faint smirk tugging on his lips, mischief dancing in his eyes. And really, she'd never known it was possible for a grown man to look so adorable and so, well, sexy at the same time. Leave it to Castle to pull off such an apparent contradiction.
"I don't know, Castle. You're the writer; I thought you'd be better at interpreting subtext," she quipped.
"I'm not quite sure… You could try it again and maybe that'll help."
She huffed a soft laugh. Yeah, he was definitely still Castle. The man she knew and trusted. "Nice try. Come on, we're still in the middle of a case, remember?"
He sobered at the reminder and dutifully accompanied her up the steps back to the Homicide floor, only to pause just before the door. "Say, Beckett?"
She turned back to him. "What?"
He swooped in and kissed her soundly, a quick press of his lips to hers. And then gave her one of his cheeky smirks. "One for the road."
Oh, this man, this ridiculous, funny, kind, dear man. She had to purse her lips to keep from smiling, her mood suddenly much brighter.
They were still in the middle of a case and Lyla Bernard was dead and her mother was devastated and Kate was, again, all too keenly conscious of the weight of her promise to Ms. Bernard to find out who had done this.
And yet… she was smiling and hopeful and feeling more confident that everything would work out somehow. Because of Castle, because that was what he did to her and for her. And how could she possibly resist him? (She'd tried that already and clearly failed.)
~To be continued…~
A/N 2: I know this has been a long time coming and I can only hope it was worth the wait…. And for those who are wondering, the story is not nearly done yet.
