Make This Go On Forever

.

Kate walks determinedly towards the morgue where she knows Lanie is eating her lunch beside a bunch of corpses like it's the most normal thing in the world.

"Lanie," she says when she enters the room, "I need you to do a blood test for me."

Lanie looks up from the medical journal she had been reading. "Excuse me?"

Kate leans against one of the counters. "I think I'm pregnant."

Silence.

Then, "…Girl, you've got some explaining to do."

.

The next day, the two of them walk to a nearby deli for lunch. After they order, Lanie unceremoniously places the sheet with Kate's blood test results onto the table. "So?" she starts, "Who's the baby daddy?"

Kate figures this is an easier conversation to have than the one where she has to decide what she wants to do with the little… baby? fetus? alien invader?... growing inside her.

Lanie is staring at her expectantly and with one knowing glance from Kate, Lanie's eyes open wide in sudden revelation. "Oh no, you did not," she says, "You and writer boy finally did the deed?"

Kate nods.

"Was it two weeks ago? When he had to practically drag your ass out of that club?"

"No," she mumbles against her water glass, not quite able to look directly at her best friend.

Lanie picks up on this and narrows her eyes. "This wasn't the first time, was it?"

Kate shakes her head slowly.

"The fifth?"

Another shake of the head.

Lanie ups the number of times to a timeframe. Clearly, she's been underestimating Castle's ability to be discreet. "Three months?"

"No… not three," Kate averts her gaze, "More like… six."

"SIX MONTHS?"

Kate hushes her. "Look, I'm sorry for not telling you—"

"—yeah, you better be—"

"—but it just happened and then it got complicated so we stopped – well, tried to stop – and then it got even more complicated…"

Lanie looks disbelievingly at Kate. "Are you two… together?"

Kate sighs. "That's the complicated part." She thinks better of it and amends, "Actually, no. That's not the complicated part because we're not together."

"So… what're you guys doing?"

"Yeah, see, that's the complicated part."

.

Castle's absence makes it simultaneously easier and more difficult for Kate. On the one hand, she doesn't have to come up with explanations as to why she's suddenly developed an aversion to anything that smells like cinnamon and it would've been absolutely impossible to pretend that she's suddenly changed her copious coffee drinking habit from six cups a day to practically none. It's easier for her to pretend nothing's changed when he's not hovering over her every second of every day.

Still, there's that guilt again rearing its ugly head. She feels as though she has an obligation, a responsibility, to let him know but she knows he would immediately jump into daddy-dearest mode, which would only make it more difficult for her to make a decision. Because, at the end of the day, shouldn't it be her decision? It is her body after all. Castle isn't the one who has to worry about his body changing and irrational hormonal behaviour and all of the aspects of his job that would have to change because of this new addition to his life. Those are all things she'll have to deal with.

None of that seems to matter though because even though Castle's not there invading her personal space, she has an actual physical reminder of his existence in the form of a growing fetus and it's as if he hadn't left at all.

.

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know."

Kate is sitting in a coffee shop, having tea, with Lanie after her OB appointment.

"Have you told your dad?" Lanie asks.

Kate shakes her head. "It's too early either way. I mean, even if I did decide to keep it, don't people usually wait until the end of their first trimester before spreading the news?"

"What about Castle? When are you going to tell him?"

"If I decide to tell him," Kate corrects.

Lanie takes a sip of her peppermint tea. "You'll tell him."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know you."

Kate sighs and frowns at her friend. "You know I haven't made any sort of decision yet, right?"

"Mhm."

"So, it's very annoying that you seem to think you know what I'm going to do before I even know I want to do it?"

Lanie drags out her 'mhmm' this time.

Kate crosses her arms. "Well, if you know me so well then why don't you tell me whether or not I'll decide to keep it? Save me the trouble."

"Oh no," Lanie says, shaking her head. "That I don't know. No situation from which to extract previous behaviour. The next time you get accidently knocked up though, I'll have a better idea."

Kate rolls her eyes. "Thanks."

"So…" Lanie leans back in her chair. "Six weeks…"

Kate lowers her gaze, suddenly finding her chamomile tea riveting.

"Do you know when it happened?" Lanie continues.

"I have an idea." She sighs. "But I can't tell him now. I mean, he's still not talking to me… no, that's wrong, I'm still not talking to him."

Lanie thinks Kate had it right in the first place but aloud, she merely asks, "What did you two fight about, anyway?"

Kate shrugs, a defeatist tone when she answers, "I don't know. A bunch of things, I guess. He kept spewing all these vague concepts to me – about how I don't know what I want in life. As if anybody does, right?"

Lanie tilts her head. "…Well…"

"—that was a rhetorical question, Lanie."

"I'm just sayin'… maybe you should make the first move. Give him a chance."

"He's had a lot of chances," Kate retorts. "I kick him off of cases and he keeps coming back for more."

"I think he might be coming back for more than just the prospect of playing detective."

Kate stares at her friend. "So, what? You think I should just show up at his doorstep and say 'hey, remember when we were having sex – no strings attached – well, it seems as though we've created something together that will now be a permanent reminder of that time'?

"Interesting choice of words there," Lanie comments instead of answering Kate's question directly.

"What're you talking about?"

"You said 'we've created something together'," Lanie replies, "That's a strong sentiment for somebody who claims they don't have feelings towards a tiny fetus or the father of said tiny fetus."

"It's just what people say, Lanie," Kate says, irritated at Lanie's analysis of a simple slip of the tongue.

"No, when I got accidently knocked up—" Kate raises her eyebrows at that but Lanie ignores it "—my sentiments to my boyfriend had been more along the lines of 'oh shit, I can't believe this happened' and not 'oh shit, I can't believe what we've created together'." Lanie doesn't pay attention to Kate's frustrated growl. "Kate, your boy's a writer, why don't you go ask him about the connotations between those two phrases?"

.

"Beckett?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Esposito looks at her, face full of concern as they get out of their respective vehicles. "You don't look so good."

It's early evening and the three of them are currently standing outside a building on St. Nicholas Ave. after Esposito had found a lead in the Eldridge case: the case that had gone cold months ago because Eldridge had conveniently alibi-ed out.

She looks suspiciously at Esposito after he makes the comment, wondering if Lanie had hinted something to him. "Why wouldn't I be up for this?" she asks bitingly, "Eldridge walked away after murdering his girlfriend and now I'm ready to personally wipe that goddamn smirk off his face."

"Okay, okay," Esposito backs off, "I just meant—"

"—I'm fine, Esposito. Now, can we just go?" They aren't exactly in the safest of neighbourhoods and Kate knows the three of them just scream 'cops'.

"Hey," Ryan calls out, standing a couple of buildings away, "It's this one."

After banging on the apartment door for a good five minutes, Esposito decides a more forceful entry is required. They have a warrant, after all. Turns out, getting Noel Eldridge cuffed and out of his apartment isn't a problem, it's making it out of the area alive that is.

"One Lincoln 30, there was a drive-by shooting at 124th and St. Nicholas Ave. Suspect has escaped from custody. We need back-up and an ambulance." Esposito glances over at Ryan, whose shoulder had been grazed by a bullet. "How is she, man?"

Ryan is hovering over Kate, hand covering the hole in her abdomen. He shakes his head grimly. "We need that ambulance."

A/N: I know, right? The "accidental pregnancy" trope? Really, Violet, REALLY? ~sigh. Stay with me, dear readers, I hate horrible clichés, too.

(P.S.: I was seriously considering changing the trajectory of the story – which is why it took me so long to put this chapter up even though I had already written it – but then, I got reassured by the lovely carolune that I'm not engaging in a cop-out. So, I must thank her profusely for her ramblings to my ramblings! Here's hoping you all feel similarly…)