Misconception

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For the first time since she knocked on his door, she has no idea what happens now.

Marriage seems ridiculous, but then again, so does a baby. And that's happening whether she can fathom it or not.

She steps out of his arms, but her fingers trail over the plaid of his shirt, the so-soft material, well-worn, the scent of him still lingering.

He clutches at her shoulders and then releases her; she was going anyway, regardless. It's not like he could stop her.

Kate paces away, the brisk steps of her stride making clean, sharp noises against the wood floor. She's not sure she has the capacity for this, the ability to even process what Castle has done, not when there's everything else as well.

One night. She just wanted to know what it was like, what they were like. She just wanted to carry it with her until she could face everything, until it didn't feel like she had a target on her chest in a bullet-shaped scar.

Well, she's carrying it, alright.

And the target is gone.

So what is she doing? He made a deal and that target is gone. And she's holding herself back. Fighting him off. Does she want to drive him away, is she just looking for an excuse? It's harder to stand and fight and maybe get bloodied for it, than it is to run and keep her life intact.

Ha. She can't. She can't keep her life; her life as she knew it is gone, and while part of her is terrified at the idea of having a helpless thing dependent on her, terrified at giving her body over, her whole life for the rest of her life-

Well, she's also ridiculously silly over it. She feels struck dumb when she thinks about it. Her heart flutters, and she didn't know it could actually, literally do that. Flutter. She's going to have a baby, with him, and this is her life now, this is her life.

She takes a breath and she misses the good, musky scent of him. She misses the body heat against her skin where she could rest her cheek. She hasn't even had those things, not really: fleeting hours stolen after a wedding, a surfeit of joy in his living room. She could have those things if she's willing to take her stand.

"Kate-?"

She twists around, holding her hands up to ward him off. "No. No, I'm not doing this." She has to close her eyes against the emotion roiling in his face, because she has to say this first. "Not after - I'm really furious, and I'm - not good at confronting this kind of thing - and I'm saying no."

"No?"

Kate glances at him again. "Not right now. I can't do this and - and this," she gets out, sweeping her hand between them. "We can't do this. Do you understand?"

His mouth opens and closes like a fish and he finally shrugs. "No?"

"We can't do this. I understand you've made some kind of deal for my life and-" She shudders as it runs through her again, her skin twitching like horse with flies. She could happily strangle him. "But you can't."

"It's all that stands between you and another bullet," he says grimly. His jaw is mutinous, eyes stubborn. Don't you dare. "Don't tell me I can't."

"You meet up with this Smith guy? Well, next time he calls, I'm coming with you."

"Like hell you are."

"Don't even," she hissed.

"You're not going. I wouldn't take Alexis with me; I'm not taking you."

"I have a gun and a badge and-"

"And a baby." Castle stalks off, turns around and comes back, jabbing his finger her direction. "Mine. And I wouldn't send mine out to meet this guy."

"Then you shouldn't be out there either, Rick Castle."

"A gun isn't going to-"

"Either I go with you, or you don't go."

He straightens up, but he can't find the words for it.

"That's the new deal," she says, crossing her arms over her chest. "Both of us or none of us."

"Kate."

"No. No. Everyone connected to this case is dead, Castle. Everyone."

He deflates in front of her, sinking back against his desk with his hands on his knees, like he can't hold himself up.

She feels shaky, but her heart is still there, fluttering. She's scared to death, and she doesn't know how else to make him understand. "And you're mine, you know."

His head jerks up. "What."

"You're part of this," she says, shoulders tight, the words foreign in her mouth. She's not used to saying things to him, which means not to anyone, not for a long time. And even now, she can't help injecting a little self-defensive humor into it. "You already know me. I don't want to start over with some other baby daddy."

Castle actually laughs, surprise peppering the noise of his lungs, and he leans forward to take her hands, drag her to stand before him. She allows herself to step between his knees, rest their clasped hands over his thighs.

His fingers twitch against hers and she feels him drawing closer, nearly cheek to cheek, and it stuns her all over again how she loves him. Leaves her reeling, swaying into him, and she has to catch herself. She loves him.

Oh, my God. She loves him.

"Kiss me, Beckett."

"No."

"Please? You can start over with me, and it won't even be starting over."

She hums as if she's thinking about it, but she won't let herself kiss him, lose all rational thought in the heat that bursts to life between them. Enough mistakes. Time to talk.

"Okay," he says finally. He's stroking the tops of her thighs with his thumbs. "I get it. I understand. What do you need to know?"

Her heart twists and she looks away. But the terrible thought still swims in her head. "Are you - part of this, Castle?"

"Of course I am."

She stiffens.

"We made this together," he murmurs, and his lips faintly, faintly brush her cheek.

Kate lets out a strangled laugh. "Yeah, we did. But I meant - this deal you made. For my life. A deal to - do what? What do they get in exchange? What are you - what are you doing for them in return, Rick?"

Castle freezes.

Her heart closes up. It's worse somehow, knowing that he loves her. If he was the annoying writer tag-along, she could brush it aside, fix his mistakes. But this is-

"You don't investigate," he chokes out. "God, I'm so sorry. I convinced you to drop it. You have to lay it aside for now, just for now, until I can... I don't know. But you can't keep digging into it. Especially not right now."

She swallows grief so thick it won't go down. "But don't you see?" she whispers, stepping out of his reach. "Not investigating is the same as covering it up. Like Raglan and the rest. Like Montgomery. You're keeping me quiet. It puts you on their side."

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