Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop
The song that was being played on the piano hit them at full force. It's bold and loud and Castle identifies it quickly as 'A Boy Like That' as his mother sings along, complete with a faint Spanish accent. Al hung back, half hiding behind Kate's legs as Martha belts out Anita's part, playing Maria's countermelody beneath it.
Castle had to admit that his mother might be a little overwhelming, especially after Kate's talk in the car ride to the crime scene about her daughter's timidness around strangers. He hadn't thought of that angle when he had invited them to dinner. So he left them inside the doorway, going to tap Martha on the shoulder.
"One of your own kind, stick to your own- Hey, kiddo!" she said, her fingers not faltering on the keys as she continued to play the song. "Have a good first day of school?" she teased.
"Actually, I did. And I brought home some friends." He waved over to Kate and Al, giving the girl a smile that told her to trust him. "Mother, this is Detective Kate Beckett and her daughter Al. My mother, Martha Rodgers."
Kate held a hand out to shake the older woman's hand but found herself wrapped up in a hug instead, one that crushed her ribs together. Castle was laughing over her shoulder as she gasped for air before Martha released her. The hug she gave Al was less intense and Al giggled through it.
"Mom, her hair tickled," Al said, her nose wrinkling as she tucked herself back against Kate's leg, her right arm looping around her knee loosely. Not hiding, but definitely holding onto someone safe in the room.
Martha picked up the wine glass that had been on the piano, taking a sip of the red liquid in the bowl of the glass. "I have that effect on a lot of people. Are we doing dinner with these lovely young ladies, Richard?"
"We are." He smiled toward Kate and Al, an apology and a heartfelt expression all at once. "Do you have preferences, Becketts? I think we have pasta, maybe some hamburger that could become American chop suey, or there's always grilled cheese and chicken noodle soup."
All eyes seemed to train on Al's half-hidden face. But her eyes were on Castle's, looking for a hint.
Kate ran a hand over Al's head, "How about grilled cheese, kid? Maybe Rick will let you help in the kitchen." Kate looked over at Castle for confirmation on the proposition.
"Definitely. It's a team effort." He held out a hand for Al to take. "Come on, Al. We'll start getting the griddle hot."
The girl grabbed hold of Castle's hand as they went over to the kitchen to gather the ingredients and plug in the countertop griddle Castle pulled down from a cupboard. Kate watched from the living room as Castle boosted Al up onto the counter so he could settle bread and a stick of butter and a block of cheddar cheese from the fridge around the girl.
"He's always wanted kids, Detective."
Martha's voice surprised Kate as she observed the scene in the kitchen. The older woman was at her elbow, looking in the same direction. "Really?"
"Oh yes. He's an only child. I think he always wanted someone else to share his sense of wonder with." The woman nodded toward the couch and the two of them sat. Martha kicked her feet up onto the coffee table, nudging aside books that Castle's publisher had sent for him to endorse to make a place for her heels. "I've always been sorry I couldn't give him someone to have playdates with as a child." Kate thought she did a good job of hiding her curiosity but the actress had been trained to study facial expressions; she caught on. Martha only smiled. "He grew up without a father. I was on the road a lot with my theatre productions and there weren't a lot of kids backstage. He made do with spare props and his imagination. While I'd like to claim that led to his ability to tell a stellar story, I know he was lonely."
Kate glanced over to the counter where Castle was helping Al butter one side of a slice of bread, his hands guiding the girl's over the surface but still letting her think she was doing the hard work by herself. "His father is…"
Martha smiled and Kate could see the hint of sadness hidden there. "A mystery. A faint memory of a single night so many years ago."
Kate felt her heart stutter and struggled to school her features to a smile, to nod at the woman. When she looked at Martha, Kate knew she was fooling no one in that moment. "He's a good man. He'd be a good father."
"Yes, he would." Martha took a sip of the wine, curling her toes against the edge of the wood table. "Richard told me your Al's father isn't exactly in the picture either."
She hesitated, not sure if she was angry at the writer for sharing the information with his mother, angry at herself for telling such personal facts in the first place, or touched that the woman remembered. Kate decided to go with a combination of the last two. "You could say that."
Martha knew not to dig, not when she could already sense how intensely private the younger woman was, especially when it came to the five year old currently giggling as the buttered bread gave a sizzle on the griddle when Castle put it on the hot surface. Castle's eyes caught Kate's as he looked up and the smile that spread across her face wasn't forced or fake this time. Then the writer's head ducked to talk to the girl on the counter.
"What do you think they're talking about over there?" he asked Al, pressing a spatula down on one of the sandwiches to melt the cheese.
Al turned to look over at the women but Castle caught her cheek and kept her from looking. "What?" Al asked, sort of glaring at Castle but not managing the expression.
"Don't let them see that we're looking at them," he whispered. "Secret agents don't give up their position." He tapped Al's nose with his free hand. "Ever. So, they planning to overtake our stronghold in the kitchen or what?"
Her heels drum a rhythm against the cupboards below the counter, breaking a piece of cheese off the slice in her hand and popping it into her mouth. Her head was tilted to the side, some of the shorter strands of her hair that escaped from the braid falling against her cheek as she thinks. "Maybe. Mom gets cranky when she doesn't eat."
"Does she…?" Castle mused, flipping a sandwich. "Good thing we're cooking for her. Nothing like a cranky Mom to bring down the mood. You know what else this means?" he asked, leaning close to the girl's ear as if imparting the biggest secret in the world.
"What?" Al shifted closer to Castle, careful not to put her thigh up against the griddle's side.
"They have to clean," he said, nodding toward his mother and Kate. "It's the law."
Al's eyes narrow as Castle moves back, sliding one of the finished grilled cheese sandwiches onto the larger platter. "I don't believe you."
Castle shrugged. "Then you can clean up."
"No!" Al squealed, giving Castle a shove on his cheek. It was barely strong enough to move his face to the side but Castle staggers backwards, catching himself on the opposite counter. It takes every bit of acting ability he has not to laugh at Al's horrified face as she tries to get off the counter to help him. "Rick, you okay?"
They have an audience now. Both Martha and Kate are watching them, his mother openly amused while Kate seems to teeter between laughter and concern.
"Go along with it, Al," he hissed, dropping the spatula and using both hands to clutch at his face. "Oh, my face!" he howled dramatically. "Is it still there?" He turned to face the women in the living room, gesturing wildly to his cheek. "Please tell me the damage isn't irreversible!"
Martha shook her head at Kate. "He inherited some of my acting ability. It's in his bones." Then she got up from the couch, heading for the stairs. "Have your new friends check on your face, darling."
Kate pushed up from the couch after Martha moved into the kitchen, examining the drink selection in the fridge, whistling a tune that sounded faintly like the first line of 'Beauty and the Beast.' Kate's heels clicked on the tile of the kitchen as she joined Castle and Al near the griddle.
"Come on, Rick. Let's see the wound," Kate said with a wink toward Al.
Castle turned his face so that Kate could examine his cheek. As her fingers danced over the skin, unmarked save for the faint trace of stubble from the day, he winced playfully. "Be gentle, Kate. I'm injured."
"Kiss him better, Mom!" Al suggested, bouncing on the counter. All three adults turned to look at the girl. She shrugged. "That's what you do with me when I get a boo-boo. Kiss it better."
Kate swallowed, ducking her head but still checking for Castle's reaction through her lashes. He didn't seem entirely shocked but he was blinking a little faster. Martha was laughing quietly in front of the open refrigerator, shaking her head as she continued to whistle.
"Come, Kate. Can't have this get any worse than it already is," he murmured, a smile tugging at his lips as he shifts so his cheek is closer to Kate. "It's starting to swell up, I can feel it."
She wanted to refuse, laugh it off as a joke and sit down to eat dinner with her daughter, their friend, and his mother. But since all three of them were staring at her, waiting, she sighed. In a swift motion so her mind couldn't make her body back out of the decision, Kate rolled up on the balls of her feet and brushed her lips against his jawline. Barely a kiss. Then she stepped back, her tailbone hitting the counter as she tucked her hands into her pockets.
"Better, Rick?" she asked, arching a brow.
His finger pressed against his cheek, smiling. "Definitely." He stooped to get the spatula from the ground where he had let it fall, washing it off under the sink quickly before finishing the rest of the sandwiches. Carrying the platter of grilled cheese, he moved past her, whispering, "Thanks, Kate."
Kate helped Al down from the counter as Castle set the plates out on the dining table. "See? All better, Mom," Al said with a grin. "Always works."
"What can we get you two to drink?" Martha asked, pouring water out of a pitcher from the fridge.
"Water's fine, Martha," Kate said, keeping an eye on Al as she climbed onto one of the seats. "Let me help with the soup, though."
Martha gave her a little nudge back toward the table. "Please. I'm warming up a can of Campbell's. Go sit and talk."
Kate took the glasses of water and set them out in front of everyone's spot before taking the chair next to Al. She only realized she was kitty-corner to Castle when he nudged her with the toe of his shoe. His smile is enough to reassure her of her actions in the kitchen; they were amusing Al, nothing big. Still friends.
"Big happenings at school today, Al?" he asked, interrupting Al's fiddling with the silverware; she had been tapping the spoon on the handle of the knife at different places, listening to the change in tone.
Al grinned, holding the spoon in her fist as she talked about the book they were reading as a class before transitioning to the music lesson they had ended with. She complained about how no one could hold a tune and that even the teacher was getting a little frustrated.
"Not like you, Mom. You have a pretty voice," Al said, taking a bite of the sandwich.
"Does she now?" mused Castle, turning his eyes onto Kate from where they had been listening to Al's little story.
Kate wanted to kick her daughter's shin but the girl was already nodding away. "Oh yes. She sings in the shower."
"And the plot thickens," he said with a grin in Kate's direction around a spoonful of soup. "Don't worry, Kate. Won't make you sing in front of all these people."
The word 'yet' hung in the air, unspoken, but Kate could see that it was written all over his mischievous face.
Dinner, which Kate thought would be awkward and silent with the combination of her shy daughter and Castle's over-the-top mother, was anything but. Martha was able to draw Al out of her shell, talking about art projects and a mutual dislike for math and science. Castle chattered about his latest toy for procrastination: virtual bubblewrap.
It hit Kate as she took a sip of water, letting the conversations surround her, a calming blanket. This was what a family should be like at dinner. Talk over comfort food about school and work after the day was over.
This was what her family dinners had been like growing up. The three of them at the worn table, her parents listening to her stories from school while exchanging long, meaningful glances across the table at one another.
Neither Castle nor Al had experienced that, not really. Jim and the group of friends that had taken Al on as a loved niece were poor substitutes for a permanent father-figure. She couldn't speak to Castle's life as a child but she got the sense it was even emptier of friends that stayed with him as his mother travelled around the country for shows.
"Mom? Time to go home?" Al asked, tugging on Kate's sleeve.
Her watch told her that, yes, they should probably get going. Al had school the next day and there was a bedtime to stick to. "Once we help Rick and Martha clean up, kid."
"Oh, don't worry yourselves," Martha said, taking their empty plates and sweeping toward the sink. "Richard and I can handle ourselves."
"Please," Kate said, getting up to bring Al and her bowls to the sink. "Let us just clear the table off at least."
Before either Castle or Martha could protest further, Kate and Al had the dishes in the sink, soaking in hot, bubbly water. Practiced ease from the same motion back at their own home. Martha did pluck the sponge from Kate's hand as she started to wash one of the plates, tossing it back into the sink telling her that "Richard will handle that."
Castle had their jackets when they walked over to the door, helping Al into hers before holding Kate's leather jacket out by the shoulders. Kate slipped her arms into the sleeves, letting Castle settle it on her body before he stepped out in front of them.
"It was lovely, ladies," he said a moment before Al wrapped herself around his legs in a hug.
"Thanks, Rick," she mumbled into his thigh, giving him a squeeze before letting go. "See you tomorrow?" she asked, looking up at Kate rather than at the writer.
Kate gave Al's hair a tug. "We'll see, kid." Al took it and dashed over to say goodbye to Martha who was loading up the dishwasher with their glasses.
"Not to be repetitive, but thanks." Kate put her hands in her pockets, smiling at him in the doorway. "It was… It was really nice."
"Yeah, it was." He stepped closer, his hand hesitating along her upper arm before pulling her into a hug. "Plus, my cheek feels much better."
"So glad," Kate said, giving him a pat on the wounded cheek. "Sure that would have affected your writing terribly."
"You have no idea." His blue eyes sparkled with amusement. "You'll pick me up tomorrow morning to get to the precinct?"
Kate put her hands in the pockets of her jacket, giving a gesture that was a mixture of a shrug and a nod. "Probably around eight thirty or so. I'll text you when I'm outside." With Al back at her side, Kate let Castle open the apartment door, leaning on the doorframe as they stood in the hallway. "Have a good night, Martha, Rick."
"And you," Martha called back.
"See you tomorrow," Castle said as he closed the door, going back into the kitchen to help clean the dishes that weren't safe in the dishwasher.
"She's a lovely girl." Martha was running the pink sponge over a plate, wiping the crumbs from the sandwiches off it. "And so is that Al." Then she turned on him, eyes all seriousness. "Don't let them go, Richard. Not those two."
Castle leaned a hip against the counter, taking the plate from his mother and drying it off with a dishtowel. "I don't plan on it, Mother. Not for a long while."