Okay, so it's been two weeks, I know, but my friend has been staying at my house for the last week and I really didn't want to ignore her so I've been kind of slacking on the fanfiction. But I'm back and despite the fact that school starts again on Wednesday, I'm going to attempt to keep up with my schedule.

Anyway, enjoy!

Martha's New Man

When his mother called to tell him she'd finally returned and got them a new place—not far from Kate's—in Manhattan, Castle was filled with both excitement and regret.

On one hand, he was happy to be able to see his mother—whom he'd rarely even gotten to speak to, even on holidays—and to have his own room again in their new apartment, which Martha had promised would be much larger than their last one.

But, on the other hand, he really enjoyed the time spent with the Becketts and although he would get to spend at least two weeks with them upstate at the cabin, it wouldn't be the same when he returned and no longer sat around their big dining room table, holding hands with Kate underneath as he listened to Jim and Johanna talk about the cases that constantly fell upon their desks or cuddled up to Kate on her sinfully soft couch as they watched old sci-fi and horror movies (even with Jim in constant vigilance).

He knew that they'd probably still do those things more often than not, but he also relished sneaking into Kate's room to cuddle on her balcony as they watched the lights of Manhattan twinkle. It would be much harder to do that now that they were living a half a dozen blocks away from each other.

But they'd make due, he decided. They still had the whole summer to sneak out and meet at midnight, like in Romeo and Juliet.

Wait, no—that's a tragedy.

It was more like…well, he couldn't really think of a non-sappy teen romance movie that didn't end in death, but he knew it would be far more romantic than any of them combined.

There's no way it couldn't be with him and Kate.

Those were the thoughts running through his mind when he knocked on the door to 3B in the five-story walk-up just off of Bleecker Street. He was only a couple city blocks from Magnolia, which was nice, to say the least. And the building was pretty nice, as well; the hallway was clean, at least. There were no roaches or mice or crumbs and there was a small table with a flower vase directly across from his front door, which he just knew his mother would love.

But when the door opened, Castle's eyes widened at the sight of a very unfamiliar man with a very bad toupee.

"Um…hello?" Castle said, before looking down at the piece of paper in his hand. "I'm sorry, I must have gotten the wrong address from my mother. I—"

"Richard?" his mother's voice floated out over the man, who was tall and lean, and would have probably been more handsome if he wore his own hair—or even if he was bald—and he peered around him, his eyes widening as he spotted his mother, who looked both completely different and just the same as always.

She fluttered towards him like a graceful butterfly, shooing the man to the side as she embraced her son, now nearly half a foot shorter than him.

"Oh my, how you've grown!" she gushed, holding his face between her hands. "You're so tall and muscular now! Edgewyck treated you well, eh? Didn't I tell you it'd be good for you?"

"I'm not going back," Castle said firmly and Martha rolled her eyes.

"Understood," she sighed and Castle grinned before wrapping his arms around his mother, who seemed much frailer than he remembered.

"It's nice to see you again, as well, Mother," he replied, speaking into her long red hair, which was currently piled atop her head in a fantastical updo. "How was your show?"

"Oh, it was wonderful!" Martha exclaimed. "Standing ovation every single night! Now, come on in; Gustave just made borscht."

"Gustave?" Castle asked, lugging his bags in after him. Martha nodded, smiling brightly as she motioned to the tall, thin man, who was standing silently in the kitchen, stirring a pot of something that smelled like mixed vegetables, but was red in hue when he pulled out the wooden spoon.

"Is almost done," he said in a thick, Soviet accent, his voice sandpaper-rough.

"Excellent!" Martha exclaimed, clapping her hands. "Come, Richard; I'll show you to your room and then we'll eat." She pulled him along behind her down a long hallway, which had about four doors—twice as many as he'd expected with his mother's usual pay grade—right to the last, and pushed it open. The air left Castle's lungs at the sight before him.

This room was three times the size of any he'd ever had before—not including the Becketts' guest room he'd occupied for the last year—and was roughly the size of the first apartment he can remember sharing with his mother. There was a full-sized bed pushed against one wall and a large window with its own cushioned seat and access to the fire escape opposite the door, as well as a desk, a dresser, and two short bookshelves—all matching oakwood.

"Whoa," Castle breathed, walking around the room, which had dark, hardwood floors and dark blue wallpaper. The bed had already been made with a maroon-colored bedspread and black and red pillows, and there were already a few new books on his bookshelves.

"You like it?" Martha asked. "I picked this all up on the road home; Gustave helped pay for some of it and he even bought you a few books he thought you might like, based on what I told him about you."

At the sound of the name, Castle turned to his mother. "And just who is Gustave?" he asked. "To you, I mean; to us."

"My boyfriend," Martha admitted, sighing. "He was working backstage in Denver and we…well, we just clicked, you know?"

"How long ago was Denver?" Castle asked, trying to sound casual about it.

"About six months now," Martha informed him and Castle's eyes widened.

"And you didn't think to mention to me until now?" he asked.

Martha shrugged. "I didn't know how serious we were until…"

"Until what?" Castle asked.

"Until he offered us a place to live," Martha finished.

"This is…this is Gustave's place? You said it was our place!"

"It is!"

"You didn't mention that 'us' entailed him!"

"Richard Alexander Rodgers, you will not raise your voice at your mother," Martha said, firmly and Castle just glowered at her. She sighed. "I meant to tell you," she went on, "but I didn't know how you would take the news, so I just decided that it would be better if I…"

"Tricked me into liking the place first?" Castle finished for her. Martha knitted her eyebrows together.

"I thought it would be better if I acclimated you," she corrected.

"Same difference."

"Richard…"

"What do you want me to say, Mother?" Castle snapped. "That I'm happy for you? Well, I am! I'm very happy for you. I'm happy that you found a man willing to share his home with you and your teenage son. I'm happy that you seem happy with him. I'm happy that you had such a good year, despite the fact that I was homesick as hell. Really, I am. I just…I wish you'd told me."

"Oh, Richard," Martha sighed, placing a hand on her son's shoulder. He shrugged it off, however, walking away from her.

"I kind of just want to be alone right now, if you don't mind," he said. Martha nodded.

"Of course," she said. "I'll have Gustave save you some borscht, in case you get hungry later." Castle nodded, not bothering to look back at her as she made her way out of the room. "And Richard?" Finally, he turned to see her standing in the doorway, looking at him with softened eyes. She offered him a small smile.

"It feels good to be home, Kiddo," she said, before closing the door behind her, leaving him to his thoughts.

Castle groaned as he fell back onto his bed, his arm flopping over his eyes as he felt a headache coming on. He had a full five minutes of silence before his phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket.

"Castle," he grumbled into the receiver, a small smile tugging at his lips at the sound of the voice on the other end. "Hey, Kate," he greeted. "Yeah, I'm fine." He glanced towards the door, knowing that his mother and Gustave were on the other side, making kissy faces over borscht. "Just great."

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