Close Encounters 25

"Thanks, Dad," Kate murmured, kissing his cheek as he shut the door behind him. "You're early?"

"Rick asked me to get here at seven," her father said, a glance at her with eyebrows raised. "You're not in on this?"

"She's not in on it," Castle said from the stairs. Kate turned and saw him descending with a seriously sleepy baby in his arms. James did not like getting up in the morning. "And James should probably sleep for you, couple hours anyway."

"Not in on what?" she asked, moving to the stairs to greet her boys. Castle got to the bottom step and she leaned in, nibbled on James's ear before kissing his cheek. "Morning, Jay. I bet Papa will let you sleep in the bouncy chair."

"I definitely will. I have a couple sales I've gotta box up."

"How's that going?" Castle said, standing still for her so she could brush the sleep-damp hair back from her baby's face. She couldn't carry him, but her husband was doing everything he could to make it not as completely frustrating as it could be.

"Business is good," her father said. He'd started buying and selling fishing gear on ebay, mostly because he'd inherited some old equipment from a friend who'd retired to Florida. It had become a thing, refurbishing old wooden reels, making his own lures, all the accoutrements. He made a few trips to the post office a week, shipping product.

"You didn't bring the fishing hooks with you, right?" she said, lifting her head as it occurred to her. "Because Sasha-"

Castle snorted. "Sasha? James would be all in that. Sasha isn't stupid."

Kate laughed, turned to smack Castle's shoulder and happened to catch James's leg. "Oops, sorry, baby, I was trying to spank your daddy. He was trying to insinuate you weren't so smart, Jay. I think-"

"Not that he's not smart," Castle grumbled. "Just a little relentless when it comes to curious things."

"He is that," her father interrupted. He was reaching out to take James from Castle. "You're good at getting into things. And popping off the baby locks. And opening the door."

"Is he opening the basement door?" Kate gasped.

Castle and her father shared a look.

"You didn't tell me?" she snapped, shooting Castle with a glare. "What if I'd been alone with him and hadn't-"

"The pet gate is up in the door. The cage one, you know. Keeps the dog out so it's gotta keep James out too."

"You hope," she muttered, not happy. Something else she'd missed, sleeping away her day. "And - why is Dad here so early? What's going on? You know I hate surprises."

"You love surprises. You just don't like things going on without you."

She glared at him, heard her father chuckling as he carried James away from them. Kate rounded on her husband, ready to fight with him, spoiling for a fight, but he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her with the rough need of his lips on hers.

She went still, fight draining out of her at the way he took it. It thrilled her, how he wanted so much from her, wanted even when she struggled to give - emotionally, yes, unfortunately always, but now physically, these damn restrictions. But sometimes he just took.

He broke from her with a breathlessness that showed in his eyes and she grinned, butted her cheek to his chin as she moved in to wrap her arms around him.

"I love you," she mumbled.

"And you don't even know what your surprise is," he husked.

"That was surprise enough."

"Gets better," he promised with a whisper.

She shivered and turned her head, saw her father had disappeared into the kitchen. Probably to make himself a cup of coffee, grab James's breakfast of rice cereal - give her and Castle a moment alone.

"You ready, Kate?"

"Ready," she rushed. So ready. He was taking her out of here? She wanted to go, anywhere he wanted.

Castle held her hand in his as he drove, their fingers laced together between the seats. She had pulled her knees up at first, and he'd worried that it was too much, this early in the day, that he hadn't calculated correctly and she was struggling, but that didn't seem to be the case.

She'd dropped her feet back to the floor and angled her body towards him, and he had realized she wanted only to be close.

That was a good feeling.

They'd officially gone through the last of the journal homework, but they'd taken to writing down moments from their days at home so far, moments of joy like King had suggested, a story to share that the other had missed.

Castle had been experimenting with writing down his nightmares when they woke him, and that had helped, especially when he diverted the narrative to something a lot more sexy. Beckett's idea, that one, and it was working. Nightmare erotica probably shouldn't be quite as arousing as it was.

She squeezed his fingers. "East Village?"

"Mm-hm."

"What's open this early in East Village?"

"You'll see."

"You're insufferable, you know."

He grinned. It was because of her that things were turning around. She was relentless, like he had always known, but she was relentless in all things them. She was going to use everything in her arsenal to get them back on track - her intelligence and compassion, but also her snark and sarcasm. And he appreciated it.

He appreciated her. He appreciated the hell out of her.

"Stop grinning. You're being such a bully."

"I've heard it's my best feature."

She snorted, but she kept shifting in the seat, and her knees nudged against their clasped hands. He turned to look at her and saw she was excited.

Okay, fuck. He should've done this ages ago. Gotten her out of the house. A controlled environment would have been fine; he could have at least taken her to a damn movie.

He never seemed to learn.

Castle squeezed her fingers and turned off onto 7th Street, began scouting for places to park. They would probably have to walk it, a few blocks anyway, but he didn't think she would mind. Their physical therapy sessions had started to build up her endurance, and a slow walk through the East Village might be just what she needed.

"You're killing me," she muttered. "Where are we going?"

"Little place I know."

He found a spot to park - it was tight, but he could make it. He shook off her hand and pulled up, put his arm behind her seat as he turned to look out the back.

He saw the flash of the car's windshield behind them and for one intense microsecond, adrenaline and fight poured through him.

And then he saw it was one of Mitch's guys, and it was fine, and he sucked in a breath and started to reverse the Rover back into the parking place.

"Damn, you're incredibly good at getting it in there," she said, glancing in the side view mirror.

Castle cracked a grin. "Tight spaces are my speciality."

Her head whipped to him, and she burst out into laughter. "Oh. Oh, babe. That's... yeah. Okay, I'm gonna give you that one because - to your credit - everything is a tight space for you."

His mouth dropped open.

She laughed again and patted his knee. "Park it good and tight, baby. I wanna get to this surprise of yours."

"Fucking hell. Forget the surprise. We could make out-"

"After my surprise," she said sweetly. Kate leaned in and kissed him softly, a little touch of her tongue against his lips. "Because I think it's coffee and I adore coffee."

"How'd you know?" he whispered, still stunned by the feel of her mouth.

"I'm a detective," she said, in an equally quiet voice. Her fingers traced up his thigh.

"You're a spy," he insisted. "But, seriously. How-"

"Abraco is close. And you didn't make me my cup this morning. Put the clues together, sweetheart. Doesn't make it any less awesome."

He grinned, felt a little shy at that look on her face. "Yeah, okay. Come on. Abraco awaits."

"You can feel me up while we stand in line," she said, as if in consolation.

"Was gonna do that anyway."

Kate sipped her cafe cortado as they stood at the wood and glass bar inside Abraco. The place was the size of a closet, but it had the warm scent of fresh, individually-brewed coffee to make it homey, while the yellow wood tones and ample light kept it open.

They were crowded in at the bar in front of the wide front window, the neon sign over Castle's head in fancy orange cursive. She cupped the white porcelain mug and inhaled the amazing aroma of seriously expensive and well-made coffee.

"You gonna eat this?" Castle said, nudging her brioche still in its brown-paper wrapper.

"In a second. You want half? I can't eat the whole thing."

"Yeah," he said without second thought. He was already unwrapping the egg and spinach on brioche. It smelled just as wonderful as her coffee, but she couldn't seem to give up the mug.

Castle had ordered an espresso, and they'd bought a couple of bags of coffee to take home with them, but when he'd seen her eyeing her choices under the glass counter, he'd ordered one of everything.

Every pastry, every frittata, every single item under glass, Castle had bought.

She had taste-tested most of them, though she'd intended to eat the brioche for her breakfast. Castle had inhaled a handful of the pastries after she'd gotten her bite, though he left the rose almond cookie to her.

"Tastes like soap," he muttered, nudging it her way again.

She grinned at him and flicked her fingers at the back of his hand. "I said I'd eat it. Give me a second."

"You're making love to your coffee, I know," he said, snarking back at her. It'd been a while since she'd seen him that easy with it. Made her heart happy. "Oh, fuck, this brioche is good."

She laughed as he groaned, holding the long flatbread style sandwich against his chest. He took another large chunk of it and she shifted on her feet, leaning her elbows against the bar. There were no sit-down tables here, no seats; it was too small a space for it. Great. She was tired too, and that sucked, but no way she was bringing it up.

Wait a second. Maybe she should. Wasn't that the point of all this? Castle couldn't trust her in her own recovery and so he was anxious over her all the time, kept her quarantined inside their own home, hovered.

"Hey," she said gently.

"Yeah?"

"Can we gather up our crazy amount of food and - maybe find a bench?"

"Yeah, sure," he said, swallowing his bite fast. He gave her a quick look, and she smiled at him, but they were both jumpy and over-solicitous, knowing this was kind of a pivotal moment for them.

She'd shown her weakness and he was just going to have to take it on the chin and say nothing or they both knew what happened next time. She'd clam up and he'd get frustrated, and it was the same cycle all over again.

She knew they both didn't want that.

"Let me go ask for to-go cups," he said. "Here, hand me your mug and saucer, babe. They'll make it up for us."

"After you bought out their whole pastry case, I guess so," she chuckled. But she handed over her coffee to his safe-keeping and watched him stride up to the counter with both their cups.

This was okay. It wasn't a big deal; plenty of people were leaving with their own food and drinks to find seats outside. It was standing room only.

Honestly, she didn't doubt that Castle had known that going into it. He must have known that Abraco would require them to stand for breakfast, that she'd have to soldier through. Maybe this had been her physical therapy for today, or maybe he'd just been testing her endurance.

Or. Ha. Maybe he'd been testing her willingness to be truthful with him.

Damn. Either way, she hadn't failed.

Castle came back to her with two lidded cups and a huge grin on his face. "They topped 'em up."

She smiled back, took the cup held out to her. "Yeah, babe. As well they should. We just spent over a hundred bucks here."

He grinned and shrugged, gathered up the large bag of their goodies. "You ready to find a bench?"

"Ready," she said. She cradled her cup against her chest where the heat would work into her skin, and she held out her hand for him. He had to juggle the bag and his own coffee, but he got a hand free and took hers, fingers lacing.

He looked about as pleased as James had when the boy had pried all baby locks off the cabinets. She brought her husband's hand up to her mouth and kissed it, and then she led the way outside again.

She didn't like how weak she still was, but she loved the peace on his face. She could admit to her tiredness again and again if it meant he looked so damn good.

They were laughing.

It was a good feeling, laughing with her, and he'd eaten through about half the random pastries in the bag, so he probably had some kind of sugar rush too, but it was just really nice to be happy again.

Helped that he was getting more sleep at night. Helped that she looked like she could stand up without falling over.

Helped that she had just really honestly told him, hey I gotta sit down. Before she'd fallen over. Yeah. That too.

He didn't want to have to go. They had staked out a bench in one of those little side-gardens in East Village, a reclaimed abandoned lot where the community had planted a garden and put in tire flower beds and created seating from former bicycle frames. That kind of thing. Artsy and clever, a riot of nature within some pretty relaxed boundaries.

Someone had painted huge clay pots and planted tomatoes for the summer; he wondered who picked them when they were ripe.

"We should probably go," she sighed.

"Why?"

She lifted her head from her coffee cup - he knew it was mostly gone, could tell by the easy way she handled it - and she stared at him.

"We could walk around, if you want."

"Yeah?"

"You feel up to it, then yeah." It was a question and not a question at the same time. She chewed on her bottom lip a second, and then she looked off. Away from him. Thinking.

He gathered the bags of coffee and the rest of their pastries still at his feet, ready to go. She was trailing her eyes over the rush hour pedestrian traffic, a little longing in her gaze.

"No," she sighed. "I don't feel up to it."

"Then we'll sit here for a little while."

She snapped her head back to him, studying him as if she couldn't quite believe it. But she was trying, and so he was trying too, and they could do this. A morning spent away from the house? One morning? Yeah, definitely, they could do this.

"Okay," she said softly. She leaned back against the bench again, resting on what were former bicycle spokes turned seat-backs. "It's not - killing you to be out in the open?"

"Not too bad, really," he promised.

"Sure?"

"We've got two guys at the entrance to the park and two more circling the block. Mitchell is at home guarding our flank. So, yeah, babe. I'm sure."

She gave him a slow smile, full of light. "I know it's stupid, just sitting here. But it - means a lot to me. So-"

"Don't thank me," he husked, shaking his head. "Shit, don't - it's - I should've thought of this weeks ago. We're both better off when you're happy."

She laughed, reached out to catch his hand. "Yeah, that's true. I'm not tormenting you too much, am I?"

"Naw, babe. Not too much. Just enough."

She leaned in against him, cheek to his shoulder, tugging his arm into her lap, their clasped hands between her knees. She felt sun-hot and tired, but she had been compromising her own happiness for too long. Compromising for his sake. He could compromise some too. He could do more for her, even find ways to bring the outside in.

Castle sank back against the bench and let them be silent together, enjoy the day.

He found he really was enjoying it.

When Kate opened the door, Lanie was brandishing scissors like Edward himself, eyebrows dancing, mouth set in a no-nonsense line. "I am cutting your hair, Kate Beckett. Don't even. I am doing it right now."

Kate felt James hanging onto her shorts, a kind of helpless bewilderment washing over her. She glanced behind her to Castle in the living room, but he raised both hands. "Not my doing."

She turned back to Lanie but her friend had already pushed in the door and was closing it behind her, unrolling a plastic mat that had little pockets for everything - another pair of scissors, a razor, something that looked both razor and scissors, a comb, a pick comb, a neck brush, clippers, and a pair of scissors that had jagged edges for teeth.

"Did you stalk through the city with those scissors out?" Kate laughed, catching James's hand as he reached for the wicked-looking pair. "No, Jay. Not a toy."

James whined and twisted in her arms, and she let him down on the floor of the entryway. But instead of crawling off for his own toys or the dog, he sat back on his heels and reached for Lanie's pant legs, hauled himself to his feet, straining.

"No, you little monkey-man. Better listen to your mama."

James ducked his head and gave Kate a guilty look, or about as guilty as he ever got, and he dropped back to hands and knees and crawled towards Castle. "Da-da-da," he babbled, a noise with every scoot.

Kate chased after him, grabbing him by the arms and pulling him to his feet. "Can you walk for Aunt Lanie? Show off for us, Jay." She steadied him a moment, kissing the crease of his neck as he glanced between them, a fist in his mouth. "Come on, JP. Walk to Daddy."

Castle obligingly dropped the tablet computer onto the side table, put his elbows on his knees, and called for his son. "Come on, James. You can do it. Kate, take his hand out of his mouth so he can balance."

She laughed, but she did it, and James took a wobbling step forward. He had walked (listing to side to side) for a few days and then he had dropped back to crawling, evidently preferring speed over uprightness. "You got it, baby. Go see Daddy."

"Show your stuff, James," Castle urged. "Come on, Jay. You were almost walking for us just last week, kid."

Kate laughed again, distracting James, but he took a half-running step, wavered and then started walking. He kicked out his feet once or twice, like he couldn't understand why his bare soles were touching the rug, but he made it to the couch and fell into Castle's arms with a giggling happiness.

They all applauded, startling him so that he ducked into Castle's bicep and laid his cheek against his father's palm, smiling shyly.

"Look at you, big man," Lanie said. She dropped her gear on the chair and bent down to tickle James's belly - before they could stop her.

James shrieked and stiffened up, gasping with a kind of desperate hilarity. Castle grabbed him and shielded him from Lanie's fingers, and Kate came up behind her friend and chuckled at the look on her face.

"Sorry, he's - I don't know. The tickling totally gets him. He laughed so hard last time that he threw up. We've been avoiding tickles after meal times."

Lanie stood up fast, withdrawing her hands. "Oof. That would not be pretty. Sorry, buttmunch. Another time."

"Butt... what?" Castle said, sounding horrified. Lanie was pushing Kate back towards the kitchen, picking up her tools as she went.

"Munch. You never heard that one? That's a good one," Lanie shot back. "Besides, you guys call him wolf and jungle parasite. I think buttmunch is relatively mild." She was dragging a chair out from the kitchen table and placing it so that when she pushed Kate down into the seat, she was facing the boys on the couch.

"Mild? Buttmunch. I - no. I have never heard that one." Castle was giving Kate a look for it, like it was her fault because Lanie was her friend.

"I've heard it," she admitted, shoulders hunching as Lanie's nails dragged through her short hair. "But it's not bad. Means like an annoying little kid."

"Basically," Lanie muttered over her head. "Lean back, Beckett. I'm fixing to do your hair."

"Fixing to-?" Castle mouthed at her.

She grinned back and shrugged; Lanie came out with weird ones from time to time.

James had settled again, and he wriggled down off the couch and started crawling towards the dog on the floor below the back windows. Sasha's tail wagged across the rug and and her head came up, inching forward on her belly. After a moment, they realized that the dog was mimicking James, bobbing her head and scooting towards the baby.

"Oh, jeez," Lanie laughed. "No wonder that boy won't walk. He's got the dog encouraging him. James, buttmunch, you ain't no puppy. Get up on your feet."

Everyone stopped, even James, turning to look at Lanie as if in surprise. Kate burst out into laughter, breathless with it as she realized her friend was right - the dog was encouraging him.

Castle stood from the couch and bent over the kid, lifted him up on his feet. "Humans go upright, little wolf."

"And you ain't helping him either, calling the poor baby a wolf. Jay-P, don't you listen to 'em."

Castle got James to stand and then released all but one little hand wrapped around his finger, obligingly let the boy lead him around like that. James seemed thrilled to have his daddy hanging on to him, and he kept tilting his head way back as if to see so far up to Castle's face.

"Hey, there, wolf. Doing a good job. Promise. Keep going. Almost there."

Kate grinned at the sight and then Lanie flourished a towel she'd yanked from the clean stack on the kitchen table, wrapped it around Kate's neck.

"Here we go, Kate Beckett. I am gonna make you look like a million bucks."

Castle turned at that, pierced Kate with a rather forlorn look. "Make it look like it was done on purpose, Lanie, and I'll pay you a million bucks."

Castle had James asleep on his chest strapped into the baby bjorn while he folded laundry and felt about as unspylike as he ever had in his life.

Dropping another tiny little washcloth into the basket, he paused to cup his hand over the top of James's head, needing a moment, his breath catching in his chest.

Ten years ago, this hadn't been him. Five years ago. Not even when he'd had dreams about this boy climbing like a monkey into a window and rescuing his father had Castle really thought about this part of it. About how he'd carry the boy strapped to his chest and fold his small clothes and obsess over how many hours he'd slept that night.

"I think it was all night but Mommy said you were awake this morning," he whispered. "Maybe that's why you fell asleep on me, huh?"

James was sleeping so hard he was open-mouthed drooling on Castle's shirt, soaking the white material down to where he could actually see the dark impression of the inked wolf.

It wasn't difficult to be right back there in that Cologne tattoo parlor, that ragged grief that wouldn't let go of him. He didn't need reminders of that kind of pain, that visceral lost-ness. But the association now of his son, his sleeping, peaceful boy on top of the wolf tattooed on his chest - that was definitely necessary.

It was good to have drool on his shirt and the slack, warm body against him, right over the tattoo so that the two wolves were beginning to meld. Castle needed that to happen. He needed his son to keep reminding him of what they'd gotten out of their bargain with the devil.

He left the socks in the bottom of the basket with her underwear - she was picky about how they were folded - and then he carried the whole load back up the basement stairs. In the kitchen, the house sounded unnaturally quiet, so he moved into the living room to check things out.

Kate was asleep on the couch with the dog, both curled like puppies, the television on mute. Castle lowered the basket to the coffee table, cupped the back of James's head and gathered up the remote. He turned off the tv - international house hunters or something (Kate was always jotting notes about local color or mores) - and he moved back to the couch.

Castle sank down on the coffee table before her, managed not to disturb either Kate or Sasha. The dog had buried her nose in under Kate's arm, which she'd taken to doing when Kate's systems seemed more in balance than not. It was a good sign. When Kate's bloodwork was out of whack, they'd noticed that Sasha laid at her side with her muzzle on her paws, eyes sad and watching them, with her ears laid all the way back, alert. But when Sasha was relaxed, tongue hanging out, that doggy grin on her face rather than the wolf - then it meant good things for Kate's health.

With James asleep on his chest and Kate asleep on the couch, it was easy to remember why everything was so worth it, why this was so good and right. Back when he'd been scared and alone and Kate dying - an afternoon like this had seemed so impossible to ever have again.

Therapy had gotten him back here, given him the peace of mind to enjoy this rare moment of quiet. Therapy and high doses of stronger-now-Kate. Yeah, fuck, that was a lot of it.

And stupidly, her hair looked really sexy like this. That had been a wound he hadn't known he was carrying. But Lanie had reshaped it, given it layers and angled it at her chin and it was - he liked it a lot. And somehow that wound had healed and subsumed into the general terribleness of that day so that it was just one more thing to note, one more memory and not a raw exposed nerve.

Castle rubbed his thumb on the back of the baby's head, the toddler - sixteen pounds and longer now than Castle remembered when he'd last carried him in the bjorn. And definitely the kid was going to skip walking and go straight to running.

But enough of this. Castle stood up again and took the laundry basket from the coffee table and headed for the stairs. He would put the laundry away and then he'd settle in his office chair and carefully review Mason's mission updates while his son slept against his chest.

And then they'd have dinner together, all of them, laughing as they tried to convince James to eat rice cereal and pureed green beans. Just like that, the summer had begun to creep by them, and soon it would be July, and they'd go back to their jobs stronger and more determined and capable than they had before.

At the top of the stairs, Castle paused to kiss the top of his son's head, not even needing the reminder of joy, feeling it come anyway and settle in and stay there, a permanent part of him.

Maybe it was pathetic how much a simple trip for coffee and a haircut could reframe her whole existence, but she felt really good. And continued that way, days later, still buoyed by fresh air and sunshine and Castle's easy smile.

Her contentment fueled his, and they were in this great feedback loop where she would find him with the baby in the kitchen and smile, and then he would smile back, and then James would squeal and shove his fist into his mouth and spray rice cereal everywhere.

This afternoon, one month after their tragic affair in Paris, life wasn't exactly normal, but it was pretty miraculous. And they would never be normal anyway.

Kate said good-bye to her dad at the front door, grateful for his help, and when she came back to her son and husband, they were whispering together, heads bent close as they sat on the couch.

"What's going on?"

Castle cupped his hand around James's ear and said something she could almost hear. James tilted his head with a listening look and then grinned really huge and threw up both arms.

"Ma-ma-ma!"

She laughed. "Yeah. That's me. You guys are cute."

"Mama!"

Castle leaned in again and said something else, and James got a funny look on his face, concentration pouring into his whole being.

"Mama?"

"What's-"

"Me-me!"

Castle laughed and leaned back into the couch, nodding at her. "Best I could do. He's almost got 'mommy'. We were working on 'up' for weeks, but I guess he doesn't have that sound yet."

"Up?"

"Off restrictions, babe. As of - well, tomorrow, really, but I'm your PT, right? So I say today."

"Up," she said, wonder crowding her throat. She moved to the boy and leaned down, wrapped her arms around him on the couch. "Hey, wolf. Want your mommy?"

"Mama."

She got on her knees to draw him against her chest, wanting to be smart about it, and then she brought her feet under her and stood.

With her baby boy in her arms.

James cuddled down against her, warm and snuggly like he always was in the late afternoon before dinner. She kissed his cheek and kept her arms under his bottom and across his back, but he was good and still, not pushing her limits.

"Hey, there, Jay. Oh, I've missed you too."

James clutched handfuls of her t-shirt and snuffled against her chest. She laughed softly and glanced up when Castle stood. He came to them and wrapped his arms around them both, kissing her forehead and then James's cheek.

"Looking good, Beckett."

"Feeling good," she said. Really good. So good. She leaned into his embrace and kissed the scruff on his jaw from the late afternoon and a lazy shave this morning. "Love you."

"Love you, too. Don't we, wolf?"

"Mama!"

Kate laughed and kissed her baby. "I think that's the best I'm gonna get. Even being half super. Huh, kid?"

James ducked his head with a shy smile and buried his face in her shirt. Adorable little boy.