Author's note: I'm really sorry about the space there between posts. I've been pretty sick and not only did I not feel like writing (and I kind of still don't, but I've made you wait long enough) but if I write when I don't feel good, then the chapter usually ends up being something I read later and wonder what the heck I was thinking!

OOOOOOOOOO

It was Martha who noticed Beckett had fallen asleep. She gestured for the other two to be quiet, then picked up one tray and with another gesture told her son to get the one that had held the detective's lunch and ushered them both out of the bedroom.

"Do you think I bored her?" Alexis asked, as she closed the door behind them.

Castle smiled.

"She's healing, Sweetheart. That takes a lot of energy. It didn't have anything to do with your stories."

They all walked into the kitchen, and he and Martha started cleaning off trays.

"You look pretty tired, too, Daddy," Alexis told him. "Maybe you should get some rest?"

"I'm going to," he assured her. "I just wanted to make sure you had a good time first."

"Do I dare ask where you're going to sleep?" Martha asked him.

"On the couch."

"With all the noise?" his mother asked, frowning at the workmen – or rather, the jobs they were doing. "Why don't you go sleep in my bed?"

"Because I'm not a huge fan of jasmine scented bedding."

"Sleep in mine," Alexis offered. "Unless stuffed animals frighten you?" she added with a smile.

He reached out and pulled her into another hug, extremely glad to have her home.

"I think I'll take you up on that, Daughter. You'll wake me if Beckett needs anything?"

"No," Martha said. "We'll take care of it and let you sleep."

With her arms still around him, Alexis pulled him toward the stairs, and her room.

"Go on," she told him.

"Come tuck me in?"

She smiled.

"Okay."

He kicked his shoes off before heading up the stairs and Alexis made a big show of getting her bed cleared of the stuffed animals that normally kept her company in the middle of the night.

"So tell me more about this diamond…" she said, as he slid under her blankets.

"It was shiny."

"And?"

"And worth a lot of money."

"Do you get to keep it?"

"No."

"Too bad."

Castle smiled, fluffing his pillow a little before settling in completely.

"It's not the kind of diamond you can wear around, Alexis. You'd have to have a police force around you the entire time."

"Diamonds are very alluring," she told him.

"I know." He'd seen and felt what people would do for a diamond. Castle patted the spot next to him. "Keep me company?"

"No. Otherwise I'll keep you awake." She smiled at the pouting noise he made, but then her expression grew serious – worried, even. "Detective Beckett's going to be okay, right?"

"Yes."

"Good." She leaned over and kissed his forehead, not going anywhere near the bruises around his eyes or cheeks. "I love you."

Castle was pretty sure his heart was going to turn to goo at any moment.

"I love you, too."

She left him, pulling the curtains closed on the windows to keep the sun from keeping him awake, and the closing the door behind her. Alone, he realized that he was going to lose her soon to some college – and then, almost certainly, to some young man. He felt that familiar ache when he thought of it, and reached over his head for one of the larger teddy bears that she'd cleared from the bed. His shoulder protested painfully, but Castle pulled the bear down beside him and hugged it close, resting his chin on top of it. Well aware that he'd probably have trouble sleeping if he allowed himself to brood about Alexis' future he switched his train of thought over to Beckett. He was glad that Alexis and his mother liked her – and she liked them. He thought about her in his bed – that particular thought wasn't going to help him sleep, either, though – and he smiled and closed his eyes, the teddy bear keeping him company instead of Alexis or Kate, for now. The promise of things that might be was enough to let him relax a little, and he drifted off, finally.

OOOOOOOOOOO

When he woke up next, the smell of something wonderful was permeating the bedroom. Alexis had always told him that she knew what was for breakfast before she even came down to the kitchen, but now he knew how she knew. He groaned when he rolled over, his body sore and maybe a little tired, still, but he knew the smell well and it was enough to force him to abandon the bed – and the bear who was still keeping him company – and head for the door, and then the stairs.

A glance in the kitchen showed that no one was there, and the silence in the place told him that the workmen were done – either for the night, or just plain done with what they were doing. The front door was wide open, though, which was decidedly odd.

"Mother?"

"Be right there."

He stopped at one of the barstools in the kitchen and sat down, still sleepy, and Martha came in from the hall and closed the door behind her. She walked over and he watched her eyes as they took in his face and then traveled a little higher to the stitches his hair was covering. Her expression clouded just a little, and he could read the concern in her eyes as she got close. Wanting to head that off, he grinned.

"You made lasagna?"

She nodded, smiling.

"Smells good, doesn't it? And don't yell; I don't want you to wake Detective Beckett."

"Sound proof room, Mother," he reminded her.

"Not with the door open, Richard," she pointed out, taking his chin in her hand and holding his face still so she could carefully brush a kiss against his cheek. "You look awful."

"I feel much better, though. Where's Alexis?"

"She went over to some friends' houses."

"What? She just got back."

"And she wanted to tell them about her trip. However, with the living room shot up and you sleeping in her bedroom, where would they go if her friends came over here? So I told her to make sure she was back by dinner."

"If she isn't, I get her share."

Which made Martha smile, as he knew it would.

"I hope Detective Beckett likes lasagna – or do you think we should make her something a little less saucy?"

"I happen to know she likes Italian," he assured her. "But if she wants something bland, I'll make it for her – and then I'll eat her share, too."

Martha laughed and patted his shoulder.

"Greedy! I should make it more often, I know." It was his favorite and she knew it. One of the reasons she made the effort when baking it to make it as good as she could. "Why don't you go see if Beckett's awake and I'll check dinner?"

"Sounds good."