Heartlines
The next few days are a blur of cases and wedding preparations while Kate tries in vain to clear her calendar for Saturday. She still has paperwork from the double homicide the boys' collared while she was at the bridesmaids' lunch, and she ends up missing the rehearsal dinner entirely while closing another case.
Castle texts her from the restaurant, gives her a play by play of Elise's fluttering and nervous master of ceremonies duty. Beth calls from the bathroom, laughing, and Kate apologizes for not being there, but her sister doesn't seem to be upset, just happy. Which is so good to hear.
Alexis calls right after that to say they're all going to head to Lady M Boutique for dessert, and can she make it? Kate bites her lip and glances to the boys - Esposito catches on first and sighs at her, waving her on.
Kate sighs into the phone. "Oh goodness, their cheesecake is amazing. I'll try my best, Alexis. You guys leaving now?"
"Yeah. And Dad said not to call and bother you, but I know Beth just got off the phone with you, and I thought maybe-"
"You thought right. Your dad is trying to hog all the cheesecake for himself. I'm glad you called."
"Really?" Alexis says on a rush. "Oh good. I thought you'd hate me for interrupting-"
"Never," Kate admonishes, already gathering her stuff. "Let me tell the boys a few last instructions, and I'll meet you guys."
"Yes, yes! I'm so glad I called. I'll tell Dad. Bye, Kate!"
The girl hangs up before Kate can say another word. She sits at her desk for a second, debating, but really, there's nothing to debate. She doesn't want to be here anymore. Kate tugs on her jacket, slips her phone into her pocket, searches for her keys.
"Okay, I won't be answering my phone tomorrow-" Kate starts, but Ryan holds up a hand.
"We know, we got it. You go. You shouldn't have stayed so long anyway."
"We had a takedown-"
"We're good, Beckett." Esposito jerks his head towards the elevator. "Tell Beth and The Other Writer congrats."
"For me too," Ryan adds. "Oh, and if Castle mentions a bet, ignore him."
Kate pauses halfway to the elevator and spins back around. "A bet?"
Esposito punches Ryan in the arm. "Don't ask."
"Espo?"
"Forget it. Seriously."
"Did Castle come up with this bet?"
She has this weird flutter in her chest, and it's not because he might propose. He wouldn't do that on her sister's wedding day, would he?
No.
Would he?
"I'm not saying," Esposito says firmly. "Go."
When his. . .Kate. His everything sounds too corny, but. . .sigh.
When Kate strides into Lady M in her heels and leather jacket, her straightened hair falling around her shoulders, that faint line of tiredness in her forehead, Castle can barely keep from heading right for her.
The group is clustered at tables in the back, digging into various concoctions, talking too loudly. All of Lady M Cake Boutique is white - the walls, the serving counter, the tables, the floor - with chrome accents. Immaculate and pristine and rather pretentious, but decadent as sin.
He knows Kate loves this place. He figured he'd let his daughter call her and try to talk her into it - two things Beckett can barely resist: Alexis's pleas and the chocolate cheesecake from Lady M's.
He does get up from the little table where his daughter and Beth are. Alex is sitting to Beth's right, but at the other table which has been pulled flush to theirs. Along with Conrad are his friends from college and Lucie, sitting beside Alexis. Castle saved Kate a seat at his side, and now he wants her there.
She sees him making his way around the crowd for her; she gives him that flickering smile that she has when she's worn out. He grins back and slides a hand to her hip, holding her there while he kisses the line on her forehead.
"Glad you made it."
"Me too. Let me order." Kate backs away from him, pushing on his chest. "You're distracting me."
"All right, all right. Saved you a seat." He does make some room between them, but he can't go back to the table without her, now that he's seen her. He wants to hold her hand, so he waits until she's ordered from the skinny guy behind the counter, and then he wraps his fingers around her wrist, tugs a little.
She rocks back on her heels, shoots him a look. If he's tugging her off-balance, then she really is tired. Castle flashes an apologetic grin and slides his hand down to hers, laces their fingers together.
"You're clingy today," she murmurs, giving him an eyebrow as she heads down the counter to wait for her dessert, him following after.
"I missed you."
"Yeah, clingy."
Castle leans in until his mouth is at her ear. "You're gonna marry me, so better get used to it."
She laughs against his cheek, turns her head to give him a light brush of her lips. "Was I complaining, or just stating a fact?"
He knows he's got that ridiculous grin on his face, because no, no she wasn't complaining. "Did you miss me?"
"No."
"You did. I can tell."
"I didn't."
But she's lying through her teeth. Her eyes regard him like he's the only one in the room, and it's the same look she gets when he's got her under him, working at her slowly-
"Don't you dare look at me like that," she hisses, squeezing her hand tight around his. "Not in public. You. . .that's so not fair."
He laughs, startled by the intensity that sweeps across her face. The guy behind the counter calls her name, and she turns from Castle abruptly to snag the plate of chocolate cheesecake. He leads them back to the table, thrilled by the way he can sometimes unnerve her.
Mostly when she's tired and he hasn't been around. She *does* miss him.
Beth stands and hugs her sister, Conrad waves; Alexis talks animatedly for a moment or two about the flowers - Castle tunes out, watching Kate get situated, like she needs to acclimate to the social conditions. It's fascinating to watch her shift from detective and cop to sister and family.
When they've settled back down at the table, Kate takes her first bite and nearly unmans him with that moan, that flutter of her lashes, the arch of her throat as she swallows. He clamps his hand down on her knee and squeezes, letting her know that *she's* not being fair either.
She licks her lips slowly, eyes sliding to his, a selfish little twitch to her lips.
He drops his gaze to his plate, then casts a quick look around the table. Beth and Alex are being lovey dovey down there, Alexis is laughing at Lucie and Shelby and James seem to be face-timing the baby-sitter (Elise took JR after the rehearsal dinner).
Just him and Kate, for all intents and purposes.
Kate seems to sense this as well because she moves closer to him and props her elbows on the table, fork suspended with a bite hovering right in front of her lips. "What's this about a bet, Castle?"
Shit. Those rotten-
"You are not - not - allowed to propose during Beth's wedding," she says quietly, her eyes intense on his.
He grins. "When I propose is for me to know and you to find out."
"Castle."
"Trust me," he says, still grinning at the narrowed eyes of his. . .what is he supposed to call her now? He already wants to call her his wife. It keeps popping into his head. Better than girlfriend, deeper than partner. His wife. Soon, he thinks. Soon.
"Trust you? I trust you to be over the top and sentimental and crazy romantic and to do that grand gesture, but you just remember what I said, Castle."
He blanks out on that one. "What you said?"
"Private. A moment between you-" She reaches out and brushes her finger across his lips. "And me."
His heart thunders. "Yeah."
"Got it?"
"Got it." But he already knows exactly how he's propsosing to her. Exactly. And it's both private and also over the top.
"That bet?" she nudges, curling her finger now against his jaw, lightly scratching the five o'clock shadow that has already made an appearance.
"It's nothing."
"Tell me."
"Esposito said-"
He sighs. Kate raises an eyebrow.
"He bet me I'd cry before you did."
Kate's laughter echoes around the white cake shop, rings in his heart, and it's worth it. It's totally worth it. He'd make stupid bets with Esposito any day for that laugh.
"Kate."
The whisper holds a note of urgency, acute need weaved into it, and it forces its way through Kate's brain, invades this dream about a large castle bathed in bright summer light, the sounds of little feet running, hitting the stone. She keeps her eyes closed, tries to hold on, hazy with those images that linger in her half-awake brain. Little feet.
"Kate."
Her name, the soft, young voice - they pull at her consciousness, make her emerge against her will. She groans, slides open a reluctant eyelid. What the hell -
"Kate, please. I need you."
The tear-filled murmur does the trick. She jerks into awareness, eyes opening wide as she realizes that it's Beth calling for her. Needing her. At her side, Castle mumbles and moves closer, throws an arm around her waist. She has to stroke the hair back from his forehead, whisper soothing nonsense in his ear, to make him let go without waking him. And all this time her eyes are on Beth, adjusting to the darkness until she can see her sister's anxious, fear-ridden face.
Something's wrong.
Kate pushes back the covers and slides out of bed, legs first, careful not to go too fast. Her sense of balance isn't so good in the dark when she's just woken up.
Standing on her feet now, she grabs her sister's hand and pulls her forward, passing through Castle's study to get to the living room. She pushes Beth to the couch, leans in to turn on the fancy lamp that Castle bought a couple weeks ago, a black and bronze thing that manages to look both antique and vintage.
She looks back to her sister, and the frightened expression on Beth's face makes her heart tighten. So pale. The contrast is made only greater by the worry burning in her large green eyes, the dark locks of hair that fall on her shoulders. Tracks of tears on her cheeks. She looks so young, like she's eighteen again, her soul aching too deep for Kate to fix.
This is what Beth looked like before she ran to Paris, not to return for years and years.
"Beth -"
"I can't do this, Katie."
Her voice foreshadows more tears, so thin, cracking already; Kate cannot help but lean towards her sister, leave the armchair she just sat down in and move to the couch.
"Can't do what, exactly?"
This is the only way to approach her when Beth gets like this - all emotional. Kate has to be rational, has to show her what's real, what's true, prove that her fears have no solid ground. (Of course, it didn't work when Beth was 18 though.)
"I can't marry him," her sister whispers, shame and regret colliding in her eyes. She presses her hand to her mouth, sways slowly as if she's trying to rock herself.
Kate wants to touch her, tug her into her side, but she knows better.
"Why not?"
Beth shakes her head, closes her eyes against the brimming tears.
"I can't do this, Kate. I can't be the wife with the kids and the white-fenced house. That isn't me. I - I run away. I hide. I travel. I can never stay in the same spot for long. I'm going to hurt him. It's inevitable. I..."
She bites her lip; Kate suddenly understands how Castle must feel every time he soothes that sensitive spot, the one she always sinks her teeth into. It looks... painful.
"I'm going to break his heart," Beth whispers, her voice shaking. "He doesn't deserve this. I can't. I can't do this to him, Kate."
Oh, Bethie. Giving in to her earlier impulse, Kate wraps an arm around her sister's shoulders, pulls her into a side hug. Beth buries her face into Kate's neck, her breathing shallow, halting.
"I don't know why I thought - this is ridiculous. It's not me. And - I've only known him, what, eight months? Eight months, Kate. This is crazy. Why did you not tell me? Why did you let me get into this? Now I have to go and tell him, sorry, Alex, I'm not the right person for you-"
The words end on a raw whimper, like pain is bleeding right from Beth's heart, and Kate's heard enough.
"Hush," she orders fiercely, her fingers digging into her sister's arm. "You *are* the right person. And you love him, and he loves you. Eight months has nothing to do with it."
Beth is crying softly, the sounds muffled against Kate's neck, her whole attitude so desperate and resigned that all of Kate rebels against it.
"And how can you know? How can you know that this is 'not you'? People change, Beth. You and I changed after mom died. We both ran. Each in our own way. Does that mean we spend our whole lives running? That we can never be happy again?"
As she speaks the words, she realizes how much Castle's done for her. The part he's played in making her see these things, accept them; the part he's played in her own changes. And she also recognizes how desperate she is to believe in what she's saying, to believe that people can change, that she can be what Castle needs.
And never run away again like she did this summer.
Please, God.
"No," she goes on firmly, arms tightening around her quietly sobbing sister. "We can do this, Bethie. We can be happy. Okay? You have to trust Alex, trust yourself. Things will work out. And even if you want to travel - he's a writer. He can follow you. These are details. Meaningless little things. Don't let them stop you."
A long shiver runs through Beth, and she sighs.
"What if I'm not what he needs?"
"That's for him to decide," Kate replies, steel in her soft voice. "And he's chosen you, hasn't he?"
She feels Beth's shy smile against her skin, feels it drop after a few seconds.
"What if he's made a mistake?"
"Then it's his problem, Beth. Not yours."
Kate leans back, meets her sister's eyes. "Unless *you* think you're making a mistake?"
The fervent way Beth shakes her head, green eyes shining, eyebrows knit in determination, is too adorable for words. Kate feels a pang of regret, wishes her mother could see her baby now, see what Beth has become.
"No. No. I'll have him, if he'll have me."
"Good. I don't think there's a problem here, then."
Kate relishes the shaky laugh that her sister lets out, the light of it lingering on her face.
"But…"
Kate catches Beth's chin between her index finger and her thumb, stares into her eyes.
"Tell me you don't want this," she dares. "Tell me you don't want to wake up with that man every day, and share everything, and kiss him and make love to him. Tell me you don't dream of a little girl with his blue eyes and your smile, all dark hair and dimples, of a little girl who will throw her arms around Alex's neck and call him Daddy before she runs back to you."
"Katie," Beth protests breathlessly, her mouth parted, shock rippling over her face. And yet – shock isn't the only thing there. There's a shadow of want, too, the ghost of envy floating at the back of her eyes.
Kate can see it – maybe because she's familiar with that ghost, too.
"Well?"
Her sister's lashes sweep her cheeks as she avoids Kate's gaze, and a lovely blush paints her face pink.
"Not just yet," she murmurs, her shoulders relaxing, all of her giving up the fight. "Not just yet, because I want a chance to enjoy him first, you know? I want to be a wife, before I get to be a mom."
Pride bursts through Kate, slices her chest open, warmth spreading everywhere as she hugs Beth again, presses her lips to her temple.
"That sounds like a good plan, little sister," she whispers. "A really good plan. Mom would be so proud of you."
A last, heart-wrenching sob tears it way through Beth; Kate can feel the ripples of it in her own body.
"I miss her," the younger woman breathes, curling tighter around her sister.
"I know." There's nothing else to say, no way to describe this gaping hole in their hearts, that will probably never heal completely. Not what doctors call a clean wound.
"I want her to be here," Beth complains, her voice a little girl's, even though the pain behind it has nothing childish about it.
"I know," Kate repeats, feeling inadequate. This is Beth's wedding; of course she wants her mother. But some things are just – not going to happen.
She kisses the top of her sister's head, once, twice.
"It's okay to cry for mom, Bethie."
As if she's been waiting precisely for permission, Beth rests her forehead to Kate's shoulder and lets her sorrow roll free. Kate holds her through the storm, hoping that along with the tears, goes the uncertainty, the gnawing doubt, the fear of not being enough.
Because there's no doubt in her mind that Beth is. She's more than enough.
And from what she's seen, Alex Conrad feels the exact same way.
Beth falls asleep in her arms, of course, but Kate is in no hurry to move. She lets herself enjoy the peaceful rising and falling of her sister's chest, the soft sleepy sounds that escape her half-open mouth.
Her baby sister.
When Beth was born, Kate was only two and a half, but she was very excited (their father loves telling this story; she's heard it too many times to count). Whenever neighbors or family came to offer their congratulations, meet the newborn, Kate would declare proudly, "I have a baby." (She had been told she had a baby sister, and for some reason, had decided that the word "sister" was unimportant enough to drop it).
Jim still laughs whenever he recounts that story.
Kate yawns and attempts to stretch, her back starting to hurt from the extended stay on the couch; she should probably get Beth back to her own bed, and do the same. Alex is staying with his mother tonight, the night before their wedding, in some nod to his mother's traditional wedding rituals.
When Kate lifts her eyes, she's only half-surprised to find Castle standing in front of her, his face painted in shadows, soft eyes, soft smile. She wants to kiss him, looking at her like that.
"Need a lift?" he asks quietly, nodding to the sleeping Beth.
"Think you can carry her upstairs?" Kate answers. Beth weighs about the same as she does, so theoretically, Kate figures he could. But all the way up?
"Sure," Rick says, getting down to one knee and gathering Beth in his arms. "Come up with me to open the door?"
They work well together, as always, and it's not long before Beth is being gently tucked into bed. Castle and Kate retreat without waking the bride-to-be, and he pulls the door closed behind them, winds an arm around Kate's waist.
She sighs, leans into his embrace, loving his sleepy smell and the way he makes her feel safe, cherished.
"Is Beth alright?"
She loves him for that too. The genuine way he cares about her sister, takes interest in everything that concerns her, loves her family as he loves her.
"Yeah," she answers softly. "She freaked out a little. Scared that she was doing the wrong thing, was going to hurt Alex. That she wasn't enough. She'll be fine. But she misses mom."
"It's only natural," Rick whispers, his lips dancing along her temple, the line of her jaw.
"Yeah," she murmurs back, feeling her heartbeat quicken at his deliberate attentions, this slow seduction that wins her over before she knows it.
Castle's mouth finds hers; there's no teasing in his deep, thorough kiss, only knowledge, only the clear evidence of the path that he's laying out for them, pouring from him, pouring into her.
"Hmm," she protests when his lips leave hers, start flirting with the curve of her ear.
But he has a plan, and he's following it.
"Kate," he breathes against her skin, warm, confident.
She writhes against him, wanting more, more of his solid body, more of his large hands and tender tongue.
"You're more than enough," he promises to the shell of her ear.
She wonders exactly how much he heard of her conversation with Beth.
And then she doesn't have the wherewithal to wonder.