Heartlines

by Sandiane Carter and chezchuckles

She wants to –

Wow.

Wow.

Castle feels the grin pulling at his lips even as he struggles to comprehend the idea, not because it's not a good one – it's an *excellent* idea – but because it means...so much.

So damn much. He can hardly believe it.

Kate Beckett, willing to give away her back-up plan? To work without a safety net? Emotion chokes him, drowns his words.

From the look on Alexis's face, she realizes exactly how much this means. But his daughter recovers faster than he does, clasps her hands together as she exclaims, "Oh my god, Kate, this is. . .this is so perfect."

She jumps to her feet and pulls the detective into a feverish hug, giggling in excitement and then saying, "Oh, Beth is gonna be *so* happy. She loves that place. Maybe we could – maybe we could re-decorate it for her? If you're okay with it, of course, or if you even have time, but I remember her mentioning once that she would love red walls, and I have these ideas for some paintings that she would totally love, that would suit them both–"

Alexis babbles on but Rick isn't really listening; Kate is looking at him over his daughter's shoulder, the line of her mouth set, determined, though there's a question in her eyes.

This is for you, she seems to say. Is that enough? Does it make up for last summer?

He finally gets to his feet, slowly, because he's not so sure his legs will support him. He takes a tentative step – everything seems to be working – and then skirts the table to join in the family hug, an arm sneaking around Kate's waist while the other lands on Alexis's shoulders.

He brushes a kiss to the corner of Kate's mouth, to her cheekbone, her ear, and he rests his forehead to her temple, eyes closed in silent thanks.

God, he's so lucky. *So* lucky.

"What do you think, Dad?" Alexis asks animatedly, breaking his grateful trance.

He finds his voice, smiles at her, at both of them.

"I think it's an excellent idea," he agrees, trying to keep the bliss out of his voice. Or well, to tone it down, anyway. Kate is biting her lip, her eyes bright, and he wants nothing more than to kiss her breathless. Kate, Kate, Kate.

"Maybe decorating it would be too much, though?" Alexis worries, pushing her hair back and looking at the detective. "I mean, I know I sometimes get carried away –"

"No," Kate says slowly, her thinking face on. He loves this, the fact that she can step back, give his daughter her full attention when all he can think of is dragging her back to bed. "No, I think. . .If you feel that you have a good idea of what she might want, Alexis, it'd be a wonderful surprise. Of course, we probably wouldn't have time to do it all, but we could rearrange the kitchen and the living room, leave the rest to them?"

"Oh, yes. Yes. That would be perfect."

Castle tears his eyes away from Kate, looks at his daughter. She seems so excited, her blue eyes lively and sparkling, her mouth half-open as she thinks – he can almost see the possible changes to Kate's apartment nudging each other in her brain.

It's been a while since he's seen her so happy.

This might be just what Alexis needs. To spend time alone with Kate, to make her peace with what could have happened, what didn't happen. And to accept that Kate's alive, is still here, and will stick around.

Kate must be thinking along the same lines, because she says, "Actually, Alexis. Do you want to go over there tonight, when I get off work? I'm not sure how long it might take and we we've got a little less than two weeks."

His chest swells; he's not sure he can ever find words to express how much he loves her.

Alexis looks surprised and delighted; she glances at him before agreeing eagerly.

"Yes, of course. Just – text me, and I'll meet you at the precinct."

"Done," Kate smiles, and she hooks an arm around the teenager's neck, brushes a kiss to her red hair. "Speaking of. Castle, are you done? We should probably get going. Better not displease Iron Gates if we can help it."

"The boys rubbing off on you?" He quirks an eyebrow, alluding to the nickname that Beckett has refused to use so far.

She shrugs. "Just...appropriate."

He's certainly not going to object, not when Gates seems to have made hating and blaming him her priority in life.

He gives a quick hug to his daughter, relief washing over him at the light shining on her young face.

"Have fun at school, sweetheart."

"See you tonight?" Alexis asks, her smile wide and beautiful.

"I don't know if I'm invited," he answers with fake hesitation. He's actually not sure he should come. This seems a lot like girls' time.

"If you ask nicely, Castle," Kate shoots back from the bedroom, "We might be able to find a use for you."

He meets his daughter's laughing eyes.

"Lucky me."

Beth Beckett laughs out loud when she gets Alex's text. She's waiting at a crosswalk, and an old lady glances at her like she doubts Beth's mental health, but the young woman couldn't care less.

The screen of her phone is empty save for one word: Help.

She checks the time – 3pm – and concludes that Elise must have taken him hostage, asking his opinion about the color of the napkins, or the arrangement of the flowers, or (who knows?) the opening of the windows. Elise, for all her friendliness and loveliness, can be a little...obsessive about details.

On my way, she texts back when she's on the other side of the street. Elise doesn't live in New York City, but she has a friend who does, Anna, whom she knows from high school. So she's been staying at Anna's for the last few days, and has established her headquarters there. Anna is unmarried, but she doesn't seem to mind her friend's planning. Which Beth finds rather generous, considering the level of excitement Elise can reach when working on wedding preparations.

The apartment is only fifteen minutes away, and the warm sun makes the walk very enjoyable. The weather has been wonderful lately, Beth thinks as she lifts her face up, wanting to absorb as much sunlight as she can.

It's not autumn yet, though it's only a matter of weeks. Beth is resolutely a summer girl; she loves the heat, the light, the colorful dresses. Everything just seems so much...brighter. There are little things that she enjoys about every season – the orange and red of the leaves in the fall, the crisp air of a sunny winter day, the way every flower blooms back to life in the spring – but still, summer's always been her favorite.

She reaches Anna's building, types in the security code and pushes on the door when it buzzes its approval.

The elevator doesn't work, which is no real trouble since only two flights of stairs separate her from Anna's door. She can hear Elise's voice, muffled but quite loud, as soon as she reaches the landing.

"No, see, we can't put your Aunt Linda and Gran next to each other – they will drive each other crazy before dinner is over. But if we put Linda at our table. . ."

Beth bites back a smile, knocks on the door. There's some rustling inside, and then Anna comes to open the door.

"Hello, Beth," she greets with a smile. Then she adds in a whisper, arching an eyebrow, "Come to rescue your fiancé?"

Beth winks, containing her laughter, and decides once more that she really likes this woman. Anna is shorter than her by a few inches, but she's lean, and she radiates energy. Even though she's only fifty-five, her grey hair is streaked with white, but the way she wears it makes it look fashionable instead of old.

She takes Beth's jacket as the young woman steps inside, nods towards the living room.

"You know where to find them."

Beth thanks her, takes a deep breath, and ventures onto the battlefield.

The table is covered in lists, samples, menus from different caterers – you can no longer tell the color of the tablecloth underneath. The large map that Elise made for the sitting arrangements has been spread on the floor, and Alex's mom is on her knees next to it, a focused expression on her face.

Alex himself is standing some feet away, looking mournful; unbridled relief lights up his eyes when he sees her.

"Beth," he smiles, coming to press a light kiss to her lips. He uses the opportunity to whisper in her ear, "Thank God you're here."

She links their hands together, lifts them to her mouth so she can kiss the back of his.

"Oh, Beth! You're here. Wonderful," Elise exclaims, her voice almost too cheerful.

"Hi, Elise. How are the seating arrangements going?"

"Good, good. Better, I think. Not quite perfect yet, but – nearly there. Speaking of which, I think you mentioned that your dad and Mrs. Rodgers know each other, right?"

"Hm, yeah?"

"So...Do you think they'd want to sit at the same table? Because so far your dad is at ours, of course, but there are no seats left for Mrs. Rodgers, and I thought –"

"Oh, Elise, don't trouble yourself so much," Beth interrupts, trying not to laugh. She squeezes Alex's hand in sympathy for what he must have been going through. He got here pretty early today too. "Really, it'll be fine. Martha is a social person, so whatever table she finds herself at, you can be sure she'll make the most of it. Actually, if you have a table with a single man in his sixties..."

"Oh?" Elise flashes her a surprised look, but seems rather pleased. "I do have that. Remember, Alex, I didn't know who to put next to your Uncle Jeffrey?"

Alex is staring at the wall with the face of a man who will suffer through the trials bravely and without complaint. Beth presses her lips together. Don't laugh, don't laugh, don't laugh.

Elise writes Martha's name with a triumphant flourish at the specified seat, and gets back to her feet to fumble through the papers scattered over the table.

"It's good you're here now, Beth dear. I've been meaning to ask you – let me just see if I can find this..."

Alex's hand tightens on hers; Beth looks up questioningly, but he's staring at his mother, an unhappy look on his face.

"There it is!" Elise says, digging out a brochure.

"Mom," her son says, a warning in his voice.

"What, darling? Look, I can't see what's wrong with asking –"

"Mom, we *talked* about this –"

Beth is not sure what's going on, but she's never heard him so defensive. Angry. Elise shrugs it off, takes a step toward Beth.

"See, Beth, I was thinking, with this absolutely lovely weather we've been having, it doesn't make much sense to have an indoor wedding. I mean, the place you've been looking at is very nice, of course, and I understand it might not be easy to change it at such short notice, but I have this brochure about this place – what's it called – oh, the Boathouse. It has this lovely garden – look – with flowers and everything, and wouldn't that..."

Elise's voice trails off when she looks up at Beth's face, clearly put off by what she sees there. Beth doesn't know what's on her face, only knows she's had to step back, physically step back, because she can't – it's not –

This is not up for discussion. Elise means well, she tells herself, she doesn't know, doesn't know the reasons why it has to be indoors. But it *has* to.

The sniper is still out there. The man who knelt down in the grass of a sunlit cemetery, took careful aim, and attempted to end her sister's life. Beth's throat tightens, the air in her lungs making itself scarce.

The sound of the shot, Rick pushing Kate to the grass - too late, too late - the screaming – Beckett's down...

Beth presses her lips together, tries to hold everything inside, the rattling fear, the emptiness, the tears. That can't happen again. It cannot happen again.

Not at her wedding. Not ever.

Indoors it will be.

When Beth slowly comes back to herself, Alex is speaking in hushed tones to his mother, his vehemence warming Beth's chilled heart. Elise looks ashamed and cuts her eyes to Beth, a trembling smile to her lips.

"I'm sorry, dear. I didn't want to upset you. I'm...I get a little carried away. This is your wedding, both of you. Do as you see fit."

And she disappears into the kitchen with Anna, leaving Alex alone with Beth.

"What did you tell her?" Beth asks. She's not sure why; she doesn't really want to know.

Alex seems to understand that. Instead of answering, he draws her into his arms, wraps himself around her. She wonders for a second why he's shaking, then realizes. It's her, not him.

She buries her nose into his shirt, squeezes her arms around his waist.

Alex rocks her against him, slow and steady, murmurs against her ear.

She loves his voice. It's deep and soothing, rich. She smiles when she remembers the first night he played the guitar for her, the night when she realized how talented a singer he was.

The night when she realized that maybe, maybe, she was in love with him.

"It'll be okay, honey," he murmurs, lips brushing her temple. "I promise, Beth. It will all be okay."

And she believes him.

When Castle gets back to the loft, he doesn't expect to see her keys in the bowl and her shoes at the door.

Alexis is coming down the stairs with a box of stuff from the storage closet; he can smell paint thinner. "Hey, Daddy."

He quirks his lips at her little girl voice and takes the box from her, lets her get down the stairs. "What're you doing here?"

"Getting some supplies. Also, Lucie called and said her dress didn't fit right, so Kate and Lucie had to meet up and switch dresses."

"Oh. Kate's where then?"

"Trying on Lucie's dress, in the bathroom I think. Dad, do you think Kate minds doing this? I mean, I kinda jumped all over it, but it's her gift to Beth and I-"

"I think, pumpkin, that it's our family's gift to Beth." He slides his arm along her shoulders and pulls her into his side in a swift hug. "You get it?"

"Oh," Alexis says softly, laying her head on his shoulder. Castle turns slightly and drops the box by the door, hearing stuff rattle ominously, then draws his daughter into a tighter hug, his chin on her head.

"You and I haven't really had any kind of real conversation about this, have we?"

"About the wedding?"

In a manner of speaking. "I mean me and Kate." Castle grins to himself and lets go of Alexis, pushing her towards the couch. "Sit down; let's talk."

Alexis goes. He follows and sits at one end of the couch, lifts his arm so she can snuggle against his side. Alexis sighs into his chest and wraps her arm around him.

"After that weekend that you moved her stuff in, she just kinda never left," Alexis starts softly. "And I like her here; this is where she belongs."

His heart eases a little. "I think so. And, Alexis? The thing is, Kate thinks so too. I know that this summer seemed. . .messy and scary and that. . ." He struggles to find the right words for this.

Alexis speaks up from where she lays against him. "Sometimes it doesn't feel like it's the same any more."

Castle rubs her back gently. "It shouldn't feel the same, pumpkin. People change; they have to. It's for our own good. Kate's different; I'm different. I bet you are too. After this summer. But here's the thing - we all went through the same thing, and we're changing together. That's what this gift to her sister means. Can you see that?"

"That we've changed together? I don't understand."

"This is how Kate shows what she means, what we mean to her. Kate just had her life, her world pulled out from under her. But instead of clinging more tightly to all those safe and secure things, Kate's doing the risky thing."

"How is giving her apartment to Beth risky?" Alexis says, sitting up a little to eye him. Like she doesn't believe a word he's saying.

"No safety net. Nothing to fall back on. She's diving in, counting on us to catch her."

Alexis scrunches up her face and glances towards the hallway leading to his study and - beyond that - the bedroom where Kate is. "You mean like when I was a little kid and couldn't swim, and you told me to just jump in, that you'd catch me? And I did. I jumped in every time. Because I knew you would."

Castle grins at her and gives her a tight embrace, kissing her forehead. "Exactly like that, Alexis."

"So Kate's. . .taking off her floaties then." Alexis leans back and gives him an amused little grin. "Jumping in without a life vest."

Castle laughs. "Yeah. Pretty much."

"You better catch her, Dad. Otherwise, Kate's sure to drown."

He wants to laugh, but it hits him suddenly that his daughter is right. Kate said it before; she's a one and done kind of girl. This is it. Either they do this together or that's. . .she's done. She's done.

"I will. Don't worry, Alexis. I have no intention of dropping her."

Kate keeps her phone on the bathroom counter as she zips the side of the dress, sucking in her breath. She switched with Beth's friend Lucie; now she has one size smaller and it is a little tight across the chest, but that's probably a good thing. Kate has a tendency to lose weight there first; when she's stressed, she eats like a bird.

Seriously, this dress is gorgeous. And it looks so much like her sister. Like something her sister would be thrilled to wear herself. The color of pale jade, the material gathers just under the bust in a style similar to Beth's wedding dress, flowing to just above Kate's knees, forgiving but also hugging the silhouette.

Kate adjusts the single, wide strap on her left shoulder, fiddles with the decorative corsage attached to the material. When she first saw it in the store, Kate wasn't thrilled with the floppy flower thing, but now that it's on, it just. . .fits. It's exactly right. It's not Kate's style, but it does look good on her, on all of them.

Kate twists in the bathroom mirror, glancing at herself over her shoulder, then scrapes her long hair back, twists it at her neck, and holds it up. Her side flares with a sharp pain as she lifts her arms, but she grits her teeth and pushes through. She's so weary with being limited by this damn bullet wound.

No more. No more limitations. She's done with that.

The french twist is nice, but a little too severe for this dress, for Beth's wedding. Kate narrows her eyes at her reflection, then grabs a rubber band, making a simple pony tail with the ends tucked up.

Huh. Not that either. Something. . .fun. Something more like Beth.

Kate pulls the rubber band out of her hair; it falls in waves, slightly curling because she didn't take the time to straighten it this morning. She barely had time to finish her shower after Castle-

Oh. There's an idea. She gathers one side and starts a braid at her part, her fingers moving fast. When she gets all the way to the nape of her neck, she falters, not sure if she should braid to the end or something else. She wraps a rubber band around the half-braided hair, starts on the other side.

Rather. . .different, but if she pulls it into a twist after this, piles it up at the back so that the braids and the curls all riot together then that might work really well. She'll have to get Beth to help - or, well, Alexis. Alexis is probably pretty good at this.

Kate twists another rubber band around her hair and keeps her arms up, pushing at the edge of pain, debating the hair style-

"Wow."

Kate drops her arms and spins around, seeing Castle slumped against the doorframe, slack-jawed.

"Braids."

She twitches her lips and raises an eyebrow at him, the dress still fluttering around her knees.

"You're like a hundred times hotter than Princess Leia," he growls and starts stalking towards her, his hands capturing her arms, his palms hot to her bare skin.

"Star Wars," she sighs, wanting to roll her eyes but flustered by the heat in his face.

"And that's saying something, Kate Beckett. I might've broken a hundred different nerdy guy rules with that-"

She laughs and draws her arms around his waist, not sure she can take lifting her arms around his neck, not after pushing it. But this is just as good, drawing him close so she can brush his hips with hers.

"I wanna take you shopping," he murmurs, his mouth wet and hot against her, his teeth working at her top lip, giving her room to suck on his bottom one, giving it back to him.

She ignores his pointless words for a long moment, choosing instead to cradle his hips and keep his hands carefully away from her dress. He'll never find the zipper to do it right and she can't have it ripped.

"You hear me, Kate?"

"Huh?" she mutters, backing away a little but dropping her mouth to his adam's apple, nibbling.

"Ahh," he sighs and gulps against her mouth, sending ripples of delicious arousal drifting through her. "I wanna. . .go shopping. Today. For rings, Kate. Let's go find you a ring."

She jerks back, stumbling in her bare feet, her skin so hot that the dress clings. "You what?"

"Right now. I can't wait any more. I want you in your wedding dress next. Playing with your hair, trying to get it just right. Rings, Kate."

She sucks in a breath, startled and skittish, but something in her leaping up, the same thing in her that melts when he kisses her like this, but yearns after him when he pulls away.

"Okay," she says finally, staring at him. And then she feels the stupid smile on her face, the wide one with teeth that she can't control, and she steps into him, drags her arms up around his neck to hang onto him, pull him down into her. "You want to marry me."

He groans and bows over her, which helps ease the unzipping pain in her side, and his mouth attacks her ear, paints her jaw.

"I want everything with you."