Author's Note: I am not sure how well this chapter turned out but I will leave that to you to decide.

Then Came Love

Chapter 47

"Sir, may I have a word?" Kate gave a perfunctory knock on the Captain's office door as she leaned her head inside.

The Captain looked up, lifting a hand in a little wave. "Come in, Beckett."

She took a seat before his desk but before she could speak, Montgomery overrode her. "I expect I know what you wanted to ask me about, the Christmas shift. I saw that you volunteered for it again and I know how important it is to you to work the Christmas shift." He paused, his expression and his voice becoming gentler, more that of her friend and mentor than her Captain. "But you know I can't let you take it this year, don't you, Beckett? With your duty status, if you worked, I'd need to bring in at least one or two extra bodies to make up the staff in case anything happened and that isn't fair to the others."

She nodded, not that surprised. "That did occur to me, sir. And actually, that's partly why I wanted to talk to you. I was going to withdraw my request to work on Christmas."

The Captain blinked. Her admission had taken him aback. "You were? Well, I guess that makes things simpler." He paused. "How are you feeling these days?"

"I'm fine," she quickly assured him.

But of course the Captain knew her too well to simply accept her quick reassurance at face value. "Are you really, Beckett? You're not too tired? I know you obviously haven't been sparring or working out as you usually would but I've noticed you've also been moving more slowly. Is that just caution or is it necessary?"

She bit back a grimace. Trust Captain Montgomery to have noticed and she'd been trying so hard to seem her usual self in the precinct, even if she had (somewhat reluctantly) accepted that the shift in her center of gravity meant she needed to be more careful when out in the field. She'd caught the boys watching her surreptitiously–or with what they no doubt intended to be subtlety–but hoped their loyalty, if nothing else, would have kept them from mentioning it to the Captain. She'd just forgotten that the Captain himself was no slouch at observation. "I'm a little tired but otherwise, I really am fine, Captain. I'm adjusting." It was true enough. The Captain wasn't asking about, and didn't need to know, some of the other discomforts attached to her advancing pregnancy like the headaches and bloating sensation and increased need to use the restroom.

Montgomery studied her for a moment but then nodded, apparently satisfied that she'd been truthful. "Good to know. I'll tell Evelyn too; she's asked how you're doing. Well, then, what else did you want to talk about?"

"I wanted to ask if I could use some of my vacation days for the 27th through the 30th."

If she'd caught the Captain off guard with her earlier admission that she'd intended to withdraw her request to work on Christmas, this statement outright shocked him. He stared, his eyes widening with more overt surprise than she'd seen since, well, since the day she'd told him she was pregnant in the first place. "Well, this is a change for you." He paused and then cleared his throat a little. "Certainly you can take those days off. You have more than enough vacation days accrued. You do realize, though, that it means you'll need to work on New Year's Eve and at the least, be on call on New Year's Day itself this year."

"I assumed that would be the case, yes."

"Very well then." He paused again before going on with a faint ghost of a smile tugging on his lips. "Can I assume this newfound willingness to actually use your vacation days and take Christmas off can be attributed to Castle's influence?"

She tried not to flush. She'd known, of course, that the Captain, of all people, was well aware of the change in her and Castle's relationship but he had never referred to it outright. Mostly because it was hardly his habit to comment on people's personal lives, she guessed, but also because he knew it was technically bending the rules for her and Castle to be romantically involved since they were unofficial partners in the precinct. "I suppose so," she admitted. "Under the circumstances," she made a vague gesture with one hand to indicate her stomach, "it seemed like it was time to change my personal traditions. It's an adjustment."

His smile became a little more definite. "There's no need to look and sound so uncertain, as if you think you might be doing something wrong. This is a good thing, Kate."

The Captain's rare use of her first name made her straighten up even more than she already was.

"You are allowed to have a life outside of work, you know, and it's about time you started to realize that. I know you and your whole life has been all about the job for years and while it's gotten you where you are now and certainly it's been great for the precinct's closure rate, you don't need to do that anymore."

"Sir?"

He sobered, his eyes meeting hers directly. "Do you know why I allowed Castle to start shadowing you in the first place?"

It was her turn to blink, not quite sure where he was going with this seeming non sequitur. "I thought the Mayor insisted on it."

Montgomery gave her a look. "The Mayor can say what he likes but in the end, this is my house, Beckett."

She hadn't thought of it quite like that. Of course, she knew that the Captain had also known Castle socially even before she and Castle had met so she'd supposed the Captain's friendship with Castle might have helped–but then again, put like that, it wouldn't be like the Captain to allow his personal friendships to influence his work. He was too good a cop for that.

"If he'd ended up being disruptive, I would have kicked him out in a heartbeat but instead, he ended up helping and more than that, I let Castle stick around because I thought he would be good for you."

Wait, he'd thought–had somehow been, what, hoping that she and Castle would start dating? "But sir–"

He cut her off with a wave of his hand. "Oh, not in that sense, Beckett. I didn't expect your relationship to develop the way it has, let alone your current circumstances. All I meant was that I saw that Castle made things a little more fun and you have to admit that you haven't been having any fun for years now."

"It's the job, sir," she managed, truthfully. Being a cop wasn't supposed to be a laugh riot; it was a hard job, everyone knew it. But yes, Castle did make her job more fun.

"I know, Beckett. You, of all people, know how important the work we do is, the value in speaking for the dead after the wicked rob them of their voices. We owe them that."

She swallowed. Yes, she knew, felt the weight of what they owed the victims. It might have been the single most important lesson of being a cop she'd learned from Montgomery, that they worked for the victims. The job wasn't about pleasing One PP or even the Police Commissioner or the Mayor or even the public in a sense; in the end, they worked for the victims.

"But Beckett, we don't owe them our lives. Remember that. Maybe I've put too much pressure on you over the years–"

"Oh, no, sir, you haven't."

"I appreciate that but I probably should have told you before now that we are entitled to lives of our own. This job is tough and if we don't hold on to a life outside of work, this job can swallow our lives whole but that's a formula for burnout. I've seen it happen and you're too good a cop for me to want to lose you to it. You might not have planned for this baby but take it from me that having a child will change your priorities, change your entire life. And Beckett, it's a good thing. Castle, this baby, this life you appear to be building with him and with the baby–hold on to it."

She hesitated, feeling a pang of something like longing that was also mixed in with a little fear, the usual self-doubt. "Sir, I… I'm not sure I know what I'm doing. I'm not sure I remember how to have much of a life outside of work and I know I don't know how to balance having a kid with work." And that was more true than she knew how to express. For so long, all of her, her entire identity, had been subsumed in being "Detective Kate Beckett." She had almost forgotten what it was to simply be Kate. For years, really, the only person with whom she'd just been Kate was her dad. Even with Lanie, she was Detective Beckett first because they had, after all, met through work and most of the time when they saw each other, it was at work. But now, with the baby and, yes, with Castle, she wasn't–could not be–Detective Beckett first. The problem was that in many ways, it was easier to be simply Detective Beckett than it was to be Kate (which, come to think of it, probably didn't say anything good for how deep her issues ran).

"I won't say it'll always be easy but you'll figure it out. You're the most determined person I've ever met, Beckett. You'll find a way." He paused and then added with a faint quirk of his lips, "And when it comes to being a parent, no one really knows how to be one until it happens. We all have to figure it out as we go along. But for what it's worth, Evelyn and I are both here to answer your questions."

She managed a smile. "Thank you, sir. I appreciate it." It occurred to her, not for the first time, that she was glad to be going through this with Montgomery as her boss. This unplanned pregnancy might be–was–much sooner than she had ever imagined having a baby but at least, it was happening now, before either she or the Captain had moved on, been promoted elsewhere (or, at least as likely, in the Captain's case, retired). And it was, oddly, reassuring to hear the Captain's vote of confidence, not only because of his faith in her, but because the Captain, of all people, had figured out how to balance being a parent and a husband and a cop–and been damn good at all of those roles.

He nodded and began, "Now, Beckett–" but before he could continue, he was cut off by his phone ringing and his lips twisted rather wryly. "Never mind. Get out of here," he told her with a return to his usual crispness.

She nodded and made a brisk exit as Montgomery picked up the phone. She returned to her desk but before she turned her attention back to the paperwork she had to do, her eyes went to Castle, standing just outside the break room chatting idly with LT and Velasquez. He was, to all appearances, engrossed in their conversation but even so, as if he sensed her gaze–and knowing him, he probably had–he glanced over at her, their eyes meeting.

Her lips curved into a quick, small smile, which he returned, and then she turned back to her computer but a little spurt of warmth lingered in her chest just from the quick exchange of smiles. Montgomery's somewhat surprising revelation that he'd believed Castle would be good for her returned to her mind. As usual, Montgomery had been right. Castle did make her job–her life–more fun but more than that, Castle made her job and her life easier too. In a way she wasn't sure she could explain but he did make her life easier, better.

She really needed to do a better job of telling him that.

Which just made the question of what she could possibly give Castle for a Christmas gift that much more important. What could she possibly give Castle–a man who basically had everything and was rich enough that he could buy himself just about anything he didn't already have–that would show him how much she cared, how glad she was to have him in her life?


"Come and have dinner at the loft?" Castle asked later as the end of her shift neared.

For a split second, she hesitated. After her unusually personal conversation with Montgomery earlier that afternoon, she was still feeling more vulnerable than usual, her defenses weaker. And as usual, her first instinct when she felt vulnerable was to retreat–hide, a little voice in her mind inserted–fine, yes, to hide. And with her defenses a little weaker, she wasn't sure how well she'd be able to cope with the onslaught of Christmas spirit that was the loft right now, all the homey, festive holiday decorations that even now brought back the memories of the days after her mom's death, packing up her own family's decorations for good.

But she'd promised Castle she would do better. She had to do better. So instead, she inwardly steeled herself and managed a smile. "If that means you'll be cooking, sure, why not?"

She was rewarded by his beaming expression. But even as her spirits automatically lifted in reaction, something inside her twisted a little as it occurred to her that he was so vulnerable to her. He cared so much, the little gestures meant so much to him. In one sense, it was good because it meant it would be easier for her to keep her promise to herself to keep him happy but the flip side of that was that little things could wound him too.

She had promised to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas with him and his family–and a small part of her was even looking forward to it too because she had no doubt that Christmas with the Castle family would be as warm and welcoming as Thanksgiving had been, worthy of a Currier and Ives painting or a Norman Rockwell print–but she was also scared too. Scared she couldn't get through the two days without bringing down the whole holiday atmosphere with her own inner demons, the gnawing ache of missing her mom she always felt so strongly at Christmas time.

She tried to push her fears out of her mind. Whatever else, fretting over it wouldn't achieve anything and Christmas was still a week away anyway. She had some time, not much, but some.

Which was lucky since she also needed to buy Christmas gifts for Castle, Alexis, and Martha. She made a mental note to ask Lanie to accompany her on a shopping trip over the weekend, the last weekend and therefore the last chance she would have. Hopefully Lanie would have some helpful suggestions for what to get Alexis and Martha, even if Kate knew a gift for Castle would be up to her (as it should be, admittedly).

As usual, Castle was more than happy to keep up a running stream of conversation during the drive back to the loft. One benefit of having told him about her ambivalence towards Christmas was that he wasn't recounting more holiday stories but was instead waxing enthusiastic as he described his house in the Hamptons (that sounded more like a mansion), bubbling over with plans for things they could do at the Hamptons. And it didn't escape her notice that most of those plans were decidedly not seasonally appropriate so it was clear that Castle was already planning ahead for future trips to the Hamptons.

Not even she could resist his enthusiasm (not that she tried–because he really was cute when he got so excited) and she was smiling, her mood brightened, as they arrived at the loft and not even the sight of the wreath on the door dimmed her mood at the moment.

She only just had a moment to note the quick, surreptitious glance Castle shot her as he unlocked the door and wonder at it before he opened the door and she followed him inside, only for her steps to falter once she'd entered.

Because the loft was… different. She blinked, her surprised gaze taking in the loft that looked, well, almost normal again. The explosion of holiday decorations that had been conspicuously visible on just about every inch of the place was mostly… gone. The Christmas tree and its attendant presents and the toy train encircling it remained but aside from that… The Christmas lights that had been strung up on the bookshelves, the festive garland on the staircase, the paper snowflakes that had adorned the windows, the centerpiece on the table, the holiday cards on the refrigerator door–it was all gone. All that remained aside from the Christmas tree itself was the gingerbread house she knew Castle had made with Alexis and even that had been moved to a small side table in the corner by the staircase. "Castle, you–what did you do?"

She turned to him to see him watching her with some caution and hopefulness in his gaze. "I realized recently that it is possible to go overboard with the holiday decorations so I thought I'd give moderation a try."

Her throat felt tight at his thoughtfulness, his willingness to compromise his own love of holiday decorations. "I didn't ask you to do this."

He closed the distance between them in a couple steps. "No, I wanted to. I can understand that seeing a lot of holiday decorations makes you miss your mom and I want you to be comfortable here and if that means putting away some of my Christmas decorations, then I'm okay with that."

"But you love Christmas and what about Alexis and Martha? This is their home too and I don't want you to be taking away from their fun just because of me. I can manage, I've been managing."

He lifted one shoulder into a half-shrug. "My mother and Alexis don't mind; I talked to them and some of the decorations have just been moved upstairs so my mother and Alexis still get the benefit of them. And yes, I like having the Christmas decorations up but in case you hadn't noticed, I like you more."

Oh, this man! This sweet, understanding man. She threw her arms around him, briefly pressing her face against his shoulder before she looked up at him. "Castle, this is so sweet but are you sure you're okay with this? You really didn't have to–"

He slid his arms around her and dropped a quick kiss on her nose. "I'm really sure."

If he was willing to do all this for her… "I think we can put up some more decorations for Christmas Eve and Christmas, make it look more festive for the actual holiday," she offered.

His eyes brightened even as he suddenly looked rather like a little boy caught sneaking an extra cookie. "I was already planning to put the stockings back up on the mantelpiece for Christmas Eve anyway, for the stocking stuffers."

She swallowed back a lump of emotion, managed a somewhat wobbly smile. "I think… my dad still has the stockings we used to put up on our mantelpiece in storage somewhere, along with our other holiday decorations. Maybe I could look for them, bring the stockings for me and my dad back to hang up here?" Her whole chest tightened at the thought of going into the boxes so full of decorations and painful memories but she tried to push it aside. She didn't think she could bear to open the boxes of ornaments but at least, the stockings. She could try, at least. For Castle.

His expression softened, became inexpressibly tender. "You don't have to, you know. I was going to buy a couple stockings for you and your dad to put up, if you were okay with it."

"No, I think… my dad's and my old stockings will do. I'll ask my dad." It would hurt to go into storage, see the familiar items again, but maybe, it could be a good sort of pain, a healing sort of pain. What her mom would have wanted, she thought about what her dad had said.

Oh, her mom… Her heart clenched and it occurred to her, not for the first time, how much her mom would have liked Castle but this time, the thought felt so much stronger, more achingly poignant. Because she could picture it so vividly in her head, how her mom would have taken such joy in joining forces with Castle to plan holiday surprises for them, how her mom would have delighted in trying to outdo and surprise Castle himself in turn. And the thought that it could never happen made her chest ache as if it were caving in.

"Kate? If it's too much for you, you don't have to," he assured her again, earnestly and she sniffed and blinked away the threatening tears, realizing he must have read her emotions in her face.

She swallowed. "No, it's not that. I was just thinking… my mom would have liked you."

It was his turn to blink, his eyes going wide and soft, his lips parting. Oh. He looked… almost as amazed and honored as if he'd been awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature except winning that award wouldn't have also made him look so moved. "She would?"

She managed a small, watery smile. "Yeah, she really would have. Planning things for all of us to do for Christmas, she would be almost as excited as you are."

"I… thank you. That means a lot."

She lifted her face to kiss him and for once, the kiss stayed soft, tender, as her whole chest seemed to fill with melting warmth. Missing her mom hurt–it would always hurt–but she was starting to see that somehow, being with Castle… helped. Being held by him, knowing he was there for her, it helped, took some of the edges off her grief.

And in that moment, she thought she really could manage this Christmas, to celebrate it again for the first time in so many years. It wouldn't be easy or unmixed with grief, as her dad had said, but it could still be good. And this first Christmas would undoubtedly be harder and probably quieter than the usual Castle family Christmas but it would be a start, a step forward.

"Castle?"

"Hmm?"

"I think… next year, for the Sprout, we can bring out the decorations again, the way you usually do. To make her first Christmas special."

"Her first Christmas," he repeated, a note of something like wonder entering his tone, as still tended to happen when they spoke in such concrete terms about milestones in the baby's life. The baby, their baby. "Yeah, we really will have to do that."

They smiled into each other's eyes for a long moment–that was abruptly broken as her stomach growled and she felt herself flushing as he had the nerve to laugh. "I'll take that as a sign that the baby agrees."

"Very funny, Castle," she narrowed her eyes at him but couldn't entirely keep from smiling.

He released her and stepped back, turning towards the kitchen. "I'm getting hungry too, anyway. I was thinking of making chili for dinner, if you can help put together a salad?"

"Yeah, I can do that," she agreed, accompanying him into the kitchen.

They worked side by side and it was a few minutes before Kate belatedly realized that she was comfortable, relaxed, in the loft for the first time in what felt like weeks. She hadn't quite realized how braced against the surge of the emotions she always felt at reminders of Christmas, she had been until now when she no longer was, the tight knot of tension that had taken up residence in her chest dissolved now. And it was less about the absence of most of the Christmas decorations, although that did help, than it was having told Castle, she realized slowly. She didn't have to hide how she felt anymore.

She glanced at him, humming a vaguely recognizable holiday tune to himself as he so often did when he cooked, and as if he felt her gaze, he turned to meet her eyes, giving her one of his quick, half-absent smiles. One of his smiles that seemed to say, "I'm glad you're here," without more.

She didn't need to protect him from her, he'd told her. And that was, sort of, what she'd been doing, hadn't it? She was so used to hiding the ugly, jagged edges of her grief over her mom, especially strong at this time of year, and part of that was her automatic reluctance to appear vulnerable or show weakness but it wasn't only that. She'd also been afraid.

Afraid because no man in her life had really wanted or been able to deal with the jagged edges of her emotions over her mom before. First Royce and then Will, the only two men who had really known enough of her past and what her mom's death had done–was still doing–to her, the emotional trauma that still lingered. Royce had kept an emotional and professional distance between them, partly due to his status as her training officer, but she'd known that he'd known about her personal feelings for him, and he'd held her away and ultimately left her. As had Will, leaving for Boston without asking if she would go with him (not that she could have or would have but it had still stung that he hadn't even asked, had just told her he knew she couldn't leave her dad)-and rebuffing her tentative suggestion that they try a long-distance relationship. Some tiny part of her had wondered if it had been about her, that her emotions were just too much for him, because Will had never seemed all that comfortable the few times when she'd talked to him about anything related to her mom.

And there had been Adam, she remembered for the first time in a long time. Adam, who she'd gone on a couple forgettable dates with a few months after Will had left (huh, come to think of it, he was the last man she'd been on a date with at all before Castle–crazy as the thought somehow was because of how utterly insignificant Adam had been to her). Adam, who she'd told just the bare bones of what had happened to her mom when he'd asked her why she'd become a cop and who hadn't quite been able to hide how shocked and disturbed he was, the shock and discomfiture she knew wasn't all that uncommon of a reaction in people who had never had any sort of close brush with violent crime. And while she'd never thought Adam had potential to be anything more than a reasonably personable date, it still hadn't been pleasant the way he'd immediately withdrawn, dropped her like a flaming coal, no matter the excuses he'd given about being busy with work, etc.

But now, she had Castle, who was different. Who had always been different, she thought. Because he'd known almost from the beginning about all her issues–from the way he'd guessed at the loss in her past to her telling him about her mom and her dad's subsequent struggles to his looking into her mom's case. Maybe he hadn't known the specifics about Christmas and why she didn't celebrate and how hard the holiday season was for her but he had known how deep her grief over her mom ran–and as her dad had pointed out a few weeks ago, he had still chosen to be with her.

And now, she thought about how much he was willing to compromise for her, his understanding and his compassion about her issues with Christmas. He was still here, still cared about her, still wanted her. After all this, she thought, he might be the one man–the one person–with whom she didn't have to hide how she felt, the one person around whom she could truly let down her emotional guard.

Letting him in would not come easily for her, she wasn't quite naïve enough to think that just realizing she could would immediately break the habits formed over years, but acknowledging that she could–and should–let him in was a start.

Any further musings were abruptly cut short as the front door opened and Alexis breezed in, flashing both adults a smile. "Hey, Dad, Kate. Something smells good and I hope that means dinner is almost ready. I was in the library working on my history paper and now I'm starving."

"Nice excuse to avoid helping with dinner," Castle teased.

Kate elbowed him and smiled at the girl. "Hi, Alexis. And yes, dinner is almost ready. Can you help me set the table?"

"Sure, I can do that," the teen agreed readily, dropping her backpack by the foot of the stairs before coming to join the adults in the kitchen. "Ooh, chili!" She rose up on her toes to drop a quick kiss on her dad's cheek that he bent down to receive and then turned away to the utensil drawer in what seemed like one smooth move.

Kate smiled a little, fondness curling through her at the ease of the affectionate exchange between the two, evidence of how close the two of them were. She brought some water glasses to the table, joining the girl, hesitating but finally asking in a low voice, "Alexis, are you really okay with putting away so many of the Christmas decorations? This is your home and if you want–"

The teen shot her a quick, reassuring half-smile. "Oh, it's really fine. Honestly, I've been telling Dad for years that it's silly to go so all out with the decorations since I'm not a little kid anymore. It's really Dad who loves decorating so much and he explained that you aren't used to it." It was her turn to hesitate, sobering. "I'm sorry about your mom, Kate. I… it must be so hard for you."

Kate felt a quick stab of guilt and regret at the shadows clouding the girl's eyes–she hated to think that Alexis's youthful innocence would be tainted with something as dark as murder, but then again, Alexis was Castle's daughter and not a child anymore either. "It isn't easy," she admitted, "but being here, with you and your dad, does help."

The girl's expression lit up in a way that reminded Kate of Castle. Aside from the blue eyes, Alexis didn't obviously resemble her father but in moments like this, a ghost of a resemblance like a sort of resemblance in their characters was momentarily visible. "Really? I'm so glad."

Something about noting the vague resemblance between Castle and Alexis made Kate's heart clench a little with a rush of affection for the girl as she returned Alexis's smile. This was Castle's daughter–his first daughter–her own baby's older sister. (And part of her wondered, for about the millionth time, what the baby would look like, if the baby would take after Castle.)

"If you two are done conspiring, I think dinner is just about ready," Castle announced.

Alexis laughed and Kate turned to raise her eyebrows teasingly at Castle. "Conspiring? You have an overly suspicious mind."

Castle pretended to study them. "I call it reasonable caution because I have no doubt that if you ever joined forces, you could probably take over the world in just a couple days."

Alexis threw a smiling glance at Kate before she turned to grin at her dad. "If we ever do decide to take over the world, you'll be the first person we tell."

He inclined his head with mock solemnity. "I'd appreciate the warning."

Kate suppressed a laugh. "And if we do decide to take over the world, what makes you think you won't be roped in to help?"

"Right, me for chief henchman," Castle volunteered. "And on that note, dinner is ready for you two masterminds."

Alexis helped Castle bring bowls of steaming chili over to the table while Kate brought over the salad and they all sat down to eat.

As usual, Castle asked Alexis about her day and Alexis answered with the readiness of one who was confident her audience was genuinely interested in her response. She finished relating a story about some minor teenage drama that had occurred between her friends Paige and Taylor, heaving a world-weary sigh as if she were 65 rather than 15 and sighing over the silliness of young people.

Kate caught Castle's glance, their eyes holding for a moment in shared fond amusement. They really were a family already, she found herself thinking, the three of them, her, Castle, and Alexis. They felt like family, like, well, parents with a child. And in just a few months, it would really be true, parents with their baby and her sister. Family.

~To be continued…~

A/N 2: Coming up next will be the chapter dealing with Christmas Eve. Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers.