Close Encounters 7

Friday morning proved to be a repeat of their drive earlier in the week, only this time they'd packed a suitcase and Sasha's stuff as well. The wolf would be staying with Jim while they were at the bed and breakfast this weekend, and the house was secure, alarm set, and Castle was looking forward to it.

He let Kate drive, because he knew she preferred it and because he was slowly weaning himself of the need to be in control. He tilted his seat back and dozed, surprised that he could actually relax enough to do that, but willing to take the opportunity.

When he woke, she'd pulled to a stop at a gas station and was clicking off the radio. He rubbed his eyes and she smiled slyly at him.

"You talk in your sleep," she murmured.

"Oh? Yeah. I think I've been told that before."

"I guess I'm usually asleep," she chuckled. "You're cute. You don't make any sense, but you're cute."

"Well. . .thanks," he drawled, sitting up now and twisting to stretch his back. "We stopping here for a bathroom break?"

"Yeah. Sasha was getting restless and I'm starving."

He popped off his seatbelt and opened the door, following her out. Sasha jumped down at his side but heeled, didn't try to dart away.

"Kate? You got the leash?" he called over his shoulder, reaching down to tuck his fingers in the wolf's collar. Just in case.

"Yeah, here," she rushed, coming around the car. "I thought she was getting out with me. Should've known better; it's you she loves best."

He rolled his eyes at her but she was grinning, and then Kate leaned down and clipped the leash to the dog's collar, handed it over to him.

"I want food; you take her," she said, lifting on her toes and kissing his cheek. "You want something, sweetheart?"

Calling him sweetheart again. He wouldn't be able to break her of it, would he? Better than super spy, and maybe it had the same rhythm. "Water," he answered. "And something to snack on."

"I got you covered." She patted his jaw and strode off, so he sighed and glanced down at the dog.

"All right. Let's get this done, Sasha."

They weren't the first to arrive.

"What the hell?" he growled.

Kate slapped his shoulder and opened the car door; this time Sasha bounded out on her side and ran off towards the lake behind her father's cabin. Castle got out and came around, his hands on his hips.

"It's Ryan and Jenny," she said calmly. "They've been a lot of help."

"I know," he sighed. "Just thought we'd. . .have a moment."

"We've had plenty of moments, Rick. And plenty more to come."

He glanced at her, a little surprised maybe, but he gave her a sheepish grin and started unloading the car. She went on inside to find her father, but ran into Jenny as the woman came out to greet them.

"Kate! Oh, you're here. Sorry we were early. Kevin's a little nervous, I think."

"He's rather punctual." Kate grinned past Jenny where she could Ryan helping her father lug bags of charcoal out back.

"Not just that," Jenny laughed, a shake of blonde hair. "Something about both of you being his bosses?"

Kate pressed her lips together and tried to keep back the laugh. How far would this go - this osmosis? Their secrets had the tendency to diffuse among the group, like a solution poured into water, seeking equilibrium. First Beckett, then the boys, now Jenny and her father and Martha as well. . .

"I'm his boss," Castle said suddenly from behind her, a gallant rescue. "That's right. He works for me."

He said it so jokingly, so smart-aleck, that Kate could tell that Jenny took it as sarcasm and kept going, guiding them back into the kitchen where she started washing her hands at the sink.

Over her shoulder, she filled them in. "I made the potato salad at home - I thought it would be too messy here - but we've still got macaroni salad and pasta salad left to do. Your dad and Kev are working on getting the grill going, and apparently, there's plenty of fish."

Castle laughed. "Yeah, which I gutted and cleaned."

"Which we thank you for," Kate smiled, reaching out to hook her fingers in his shirt and tug. He danced his eyebrows at her and came in for a kiss, a smacking of lips that made her laugh.

"I'll see if your Dad and Ry need help, but after I bring the cooler inside."

She straightened up, looked at him with askance.

"I put the chicken in the cooler. And some other stuff we need." He reached out and tweaked a strand of hair from her braid, tugging it free. "Jenny asked me to bring stuff because we all know I'm the one who can cook."

Jenny pealed with laughter, but Kate just scowled at him and scraped her hair back off her face. "Go on then, Martha Stewart."

He huffed back at her but left them there and went out to the car. Kate turned around to Jenny and took over the woman's spot at the sink, flicking on the water and washing her hands.

"He's right, though. I have no idea how to do most of this stuff, so just put me to work."

When Lanie arrived, everything went into an upheaval. She'd brought with her most of the decorations - and the ideas - and with a few other officers from the 12th closely behind her, they had to get going.

Castle ended up in the kitchen with Jenny while Kate went with Lanie, Ryan and her father down to the lake to set up tables and decorations. The reception would be all outdoor, a big cookout dinner so people would be able to come and go as they wished. And with the summer sun setting down over the water, her father's dock looked like she could walk right out onto a path of golden light.

Gorgeous.

She hadn't really thought about all the people who'd missed out on her wedding to Castle; she'd only been so surprised - and a little charmed - by having it in the first place. So they'd simply filed with the state of New York and she'd forgotten about it.

Until Castle had brought it up, thinking she needed more. Deserved more? Something. She'd initially dismissed it, because it seemed ridiculous, but then she'd realized she was wearing his wedding ring and she loved him and yet almost no one even knew him.

Her father, the boys. But the wider range of her family, her friends from college, the little family at the 12th. And then there was Castle's tightly-knit group: Carrie Eastwood, a guy from DC that Kate hadn't meant before, a mentor of his and Eastwood's from back in the day, and a combat buddy who'd served with him in Afghanistan.

All people she didn't know, and who didn't know her.

Time to fix that, to make sure Castle knew she wasn't ashamed and she didn't need anything more, but that she could stand at his side like he needed.

"Katie."

She jerked her head back to the group who were milling closer to the house, reluctantly moved away from the lake to see what her father wanted.

"What about this?"

She glanced at the tables and then lifted a smile to him. "Perfect, Dad. Thank you."

He seemed to understand what she meant, because he reached out and wrapped his arms around her.

"Happy for you, Katie. Just really happy for you."

Castle wanted to see her before everyone else did, wanted to have a moment to themselves where his face wouldn't be scrutinized and the catcalls wouldn't be flying and he could drink her in.

So he sneaked away from the grill like the spy he was and headed inside before anyone could notice. Already her father's backyard was mobbed with guests, mostly guys from the 12th who had carpooled together, and the locals that were friends of her father or had known the Becketts for a long time were filling in the ranks.

Mitchell from the DC office had gotten in just a few minutes ago, and he was already flirting with Lanie and squaring up against Espo, the two of them eyeing each other. Just like Mitchell. His training officer, Iggy Malone (though no one was ever allowed to use his first name), had joined Mitchell as well, a grizzled guy egging on the two rivals.

He had yet to see Carrie or his Army buddy, Striker, but he'd actually been hoping to introduce Mitch to Carrie. See what happened. Eastman had worked with Mitchell a few times; they'd known each other but not well. Not enough for Mark Eastman to ghost whatever might happen or could happen between them.

Not that Carrie needed anyone, but that house had to be rambling and empty, and as he'd come to discover, having someone was so nice. Stupid, but he wanted Carrie to just have someone. Even if it all that happened was she gained a friend.

Castle paused in the hallway leading back to the guest bedroom, taking a breath and smoothing his hands down his dark wash jeans. She'd picked them out this morning, told him in that silky tone, Sweetheart, it's casual, and replaced his dress pants on their hangar. He hooked a finger at his tie - he hadn't let her take it away when he'd seen a glimpse of dress and shoes in her garment bag - and then he rapped once on the door before going in.

She was standing in yellow sunlight in a white, knee-length dress, the neckline a sharp vee bordered in blue and gold textile work so that her eyes were so green they made him ache.

"Kate," he breathed out, standing struck in the doorway as she turned to him.

"Hey, there," she smiled, reaching out a hand for him.

He came automatically, his feet moving before his brain processed, and then he bypassed her hand to skim his palms at her narrow waist, the flare of her hips in that soft, white cotton. It'd be a peasant dress if it didn't cling to her curves so well, didn't have lace overlaying the skirt, like some kind of barely reformed naughty negligee.

"This is amazing," he murmured and then lifted his eyes to meet hers. "You look amazing."

She gave him that soft, summer smile - warm and easy and content - and then she was curling her arms at his neck and swaying into him. He slid his hands to her back and gasped at the feel of bare skin beneath more tantalizing, thin lace.

She grinned wider and turned slowly in his arms so he could see the back, the panel that rose to just under her shoulder blades in sheer, white mesh with embrodiered blue feathers and gold flowers and green vines spanning her ribs.

She looked like a work of art.

Castle leaned in and pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, slipped his hand around to her neck to stroke down between her breasts at the bare, faintly golden skin there. His fingers curled in the chain she wore, a long gold thing with a pendant hanging from it.

She turned back around and met his mouth with hers, a heated kiss as her tongue stroked his, and he found his fingers tangled in her necklace, unable to let go.

It wasn't her mother's ring. It wasn't his wedding ring or her engagement ring - they were both wearing those where they belonged.

It was just a necklace, a bright blue piece of weathered glass hanging on a chain, and it seemed to be freedom itself.

Their new life cradled in his hands, held close to her heart.

She loved the way he looked at her in this dress.

Not that he didn't look at her with that same heat at other times, but his fingers along the lace at her back, the way she could almost feel his skin against her - that little thrill had kept them both on edge all afternoon.

Lanie stuck by her side through most of the official parts - toasts and cake and gifts, even though they'd told everyone not to. House-warming presents, most of them really, and sweet too. An expensive looking espresso machine from the guys at the 12th, all of whom ducked their heads when she went around to personally thank them, saying it had been Kevin and Javier's idea.

Carrie had given them a family tree album where they could insert information about everyone who mattered, regardless of blood relation. It was a beautiful, leather-bound thing that looked old rather than store-bought, and the way Castle reverently handled it when Kate showed it to him made her think it had once been Eastman's, or at least similar. She hugged Carrie around the neck, tightly, and whispered her thanks in the woman's ear.

Jenny and Ryan had gotten Sasha a few toys, a huge bone - and Castle went right ahead and opened one of the rope toys and played with the wolf while Kate received the rest of the gifts. Apparently Castle was done. His friend Mitchell was being pretty buddy-buddy with him too, holding a beer and saying something about the dog which made Castle laugh.

So Kate kept opening gifts.

It wasn't a lot, but each item was thoughtful, in a way Kate hadn't been expecting. Despite being afraid that no one important to them even knew them, she and Castle had somehow shared with their friends and family how it was with them, the way love had swallowed them both whole, creating something that they all could see was beautiful and positive.

And good.

She saw it on Castle's face too. The way he studied each person and internalized the goodwill and congratulations and sincerity their friends offered. Castle must feel it then - the rightness of them being amplified and magnified and blessed by the support of everyone here today.

All the therapy hours in the world couldn't ease a heart like this one afternoon.

Kate got up from the picnic table and went to her father, wrapped her arms around him in a hug that she tried to make mean everything she needed it to.

"Thank you for doing this," she murmured at his cheek. "Thank you for suggesting it and forcing me to go along with it and - and thank you."

Her father squeezed her back, and then he nudged her away a little, looking in her eyes. "If there's one thing I've learned, we have to take the time to celebrate what's good and noble and true in our lives. No matter what anyone says. No matter what anyone does to us."

She knew that he was thinking about her mother, and at the same time, also thinking about Castle's father - and how easily it could be smashed and shattered, how the person could be taken away in a moment.

And of course, Kate was thinking about how she'd had to attend Castle's funeral, and she gripped her father tighter because he was right. It was all so very precious and fragile while yet being so indomitably strong.

Castle found her in a group of women inside the gazebo just past the cluster of tables; she was eating a piece of grilled chicken with her fingers, but rather daintily. Trying to avoid ruining the dress, he supposed. Lanie was at her side, along with Carrie and two older women he thought were Jim's - older sisters? sisters-in-law? - and Kate was at ease, even if she looked tired.

She had her shoes off - sandals with heels, really - and her legs were tucked up under the bench. Her bare toes wriggled when she caught sight of him and he had a hard time dragging his gaze away from the smooth lines of her toned legs, the peek of her knees.

"Castle?"

"Why do you call him that?" a voice asked, and they both whipped around to see that one of the cousins - twice-removed, something - had come in behind Castle with a plate of dessert balanced in his hands.

"Oh, thank you, Robbie. That looks so good."

Robbie flushed and handed the plate over. "I told you guys - I wanna be Rob." He stood twitching beside Lanie and then moved purposefully away from the woman who looked to be his mother: same long nose and sensual mouth. "Why'd you call him Castle?"

"Kinda like you - he doesn't always like to be called the name his father gave him."

Robbie gave a swift look up towards Castle and narrowed his eyes before sitting down next to Kate, stealing the seat that Castle had been heading for. The boy looked possessive, and Castle wondered if Kate had always been some favorite cousin or aunt or something.

"My dad calls me Robbie," the boy sighed. "Your dad calls you what?"

"Richard," he grimaced back, overdoing it for the kid's sake. "But she calls me Rick. Or Castle."

"Yeah, but Castle?"

"Nickname. I chose it. Sounds tough, right?"

"Not really," he scoffed.

Kate barked out a laugh and the mother scolded her son, her sharp tongue dragging Robbie off the bench and away from his cousin. Finally. Castle sat down at her side and squeezed in so that she was close and the unyielding wood of the gazebo was at his hip.

"It sounds tough to me, super spy," she murmured under her voice, giving him a lingering kiss of lips along his cheek.

"Your brat of a cousin hurt my feelings."

"Second cousin once removed."

"Still hurt. Share that dessert with me to make it up."

"But you eschew sugar and mindless calories," she reminded him with a raise of her brows.

"Not when I get to eat them with you."

"Off of me, you mean."

Castle barked out a laugh at that, glad no one could overhear them - or at least not Robbie. "That too. So you got your cousin to grab a plate of dessert. Are those strawberries drizzled in chocolate?"

"Mm," she hummed and already she'd abandoned her grilled chicken for the fruit. "I had to explain to poor Rob at least three times what I wanted, but I'd spotted the chocolate sauce on the table and couldn't resist."

"It's Ghiradelli, isn't it? I've seen that in your fridge before. That could be interesting."

Her face lifted to his, the strawberry pressed between the pink of her lips and the white flare of her teeth, seeds and flesh and dripping juice mixing with that syrup. She looked interested and that was enough. More than enough. He was stealing that bottle of chocolate syrup and taking it with them to the bed and breakfast.

He'd pay for whatever they might ruin.

People were slow to leave, and the sun was dipping into the lake when Castle and Javier finished loading the tables into the back of Ryan's car. He shook Ry's hand and patted Javi on the back, allowed Jenny to kiss his cheeks in good-bye.

"Advice about Beckett. Don't let her walk all over you, man," Espo said with a sly grin.

"I'm pretty well whipped," Castle admitted with a shrug.

Jenny was laughing and she came in to squeeze him into another hug. "Don't listen to them. You stay like you are, Rick."

He raised an eyebrow at Kevin, who only blushed in acknowledgement, and then the couple was turning away and getting into their car. He was amused to note that Jenny was driving.

"And what about you?" Castle said, turning quickly to Espo to keep him from getting away. He clapped a hand on Javier's shoulder and gripped him hard. "You're worse than whipped when you can't even admit it."

"Me? I'm not whipped."

Castle cut a glance to where Lanie was dictating clean-up efforts on the front porch, her voice strident and commanding. Mitchell had flirted hard with her, but it was Esposito who had made a fool of himself. For the rest of the afternoon, Mitch had talked with Carrie or Castle himself; he didn't think there was anything to it.

He felt Espo growling and shifting away, glanced at the man in surprise. "Javi?"

"She's not - we're good as we are. Don't go pushing things."

"I'm the last one to meddle. Beckett would meddle, you know. She's a soft romantic at heart."

"Before you, I'd never have believed that. Now. . .maybe so. You keep her away from Lanie - scare her off real good if Beckett starts talking weddings."

He could sense that there was more, but he wouldn't ask. Enough to know that Esposito wasn't stupid when it came to seeing he had a good thing. If he kept at it, and Castle knew he would, it would work itself out. "Just so you know. Mitchell - he's just like that. Spy behavior, right? He doesn't mean it."

Espo shrugged, didn't seem to want to address that directly. "Let me find Beckett and tell her good-bye. You guys going somewhere to celebrate?"

"Bed and breakfast," he shrugged. "For the weekend. Then back to work."

Esposito nodded at that and shook Castle's hand before walking around behind the house to find Kate.

Castle would like to do the same, but he should help clean up. Her father had done a lot, and he was even getting kicked out of his own home tonight to let Castle and Beckett have the cabin to themselves before heading to the bed and breakfast tomorrow morning.

So he went inside and let Lanie rope him into washing dishes. Maybe he could find that chocolate sauce.

Kate felt the arm come around her waist and smiled back at Castle. He had his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a little damp at the edges, and he smelled like dish soap and barbecue. She laced her fingers through his over her hip and leaned back into him.

"Beautiful," he murmured.

The woods here at the back of the cabin crowded close to the lake's edge, made the water dappled and golden, a patchwork of light as the sun sank so slowly at the horizon.

"It is," she sighed.

"You," he chuckled. "Talking about you, love."

She felt the blush climb in her cheeks because it wasn't a line, wasn't some artistic thing he'd polished - just his words and the warmth of him at her side.

"Got something for you," he said quietly, catching her hip bone with his finger and thumb and tugging a little. She'd felt him do that before in bed as he'd tucked her closer and it was a strange, intimate touch that - done wrong - could bruise. But he always managed it just right.

"A present?" she asked. "Because I got you one too. It's at home though."

"It's at home?" he laughed. She turned her head and watched the smile seep into his eyes.

"Yep. I hung it up in the bathroom."

"You did?"

"Uh-huh. You'll see it when we get back."

"Oh, come on. Tell me."

"Nope. Surprise." She'd gotten him this poster framed and hung on the wall between the shower and the sink. Against a black background the white text gave a To Do List. The first few items were checked off in red: 1. Some stuff 2. Some other stuff. And last on the to do list was - You.

She thought he'd really like that. And she couldn't wait to see his face when he saw it.

He shook his head and stared off over her shoulder towards the water. "Come on down to the dock with me?"

She squeezed his fingers in hers at the question in his voice. Had he ever asked? He mostly commanded so that she could never say no.

"Okay," she murmured and walked slowly down the embankment with him until their shoes hit the wood.

He shook her loose and withdrew his arm from her waist, but he slid his fingers down the inside of her elbow, took her hand so they could walk side by side. She came in close to him and pressed her shoulder to his, inhaling a deep breath of his cologne and work sweat.

At the end of the dock, Castle sat down at the edge and started taking his shoes off, peeling down his socks.

"What are you doing?" she laughed.

"Recreating a memory," he said, wriggling his eyebrows at her. "Sit with me."

She did, slipping her heels off and setting them next to her, the smooth wood heated under her thighs. Her dress would have to be dry cleaned, so she didn't mind pulling up the skirt to above her knees and sticking her feet in the sun-warmed water.

The ripple of lake made her turn to look at Castle; she saw he'd rolled up his pant legs and had eased his feet in as well, his arms planted wide to take his weight. He swirled his leg in the water and brought it near hers, his toes skimming her ankle, and she leaned in against his thick, strong arm.

She took a deeper breath and they stared out over the lake. His chin came to the top of her head and then his cheek, and he rested against her as well.

Kate closed her eyes, a thickness in her throat that felt like peace.

Finally.

His lips skimmed her hair and brushed her temple; she could hear him breathing softly before he spoke.

"I have something for you Kate. I went shopping, looking for the perfect thing that would celebrate today, and the home we've made together, but I. . ."

She kept her eyes closed, listening.

"Nothing was right. But I thought - maybe I could write you something."

Kate lifted her head quickly, her heart rushing a little. He'd filled her detective's notebook after his father had - after the alley - but she'd only been able to read bits and pieces as she could bear it. He'd admitted to writing those notes after he'd seen her grieving, and even still those letters made her chest ache.

She wanted this, whatever it was he'd written for her now. Clean slate. "You wrote me something?"

"It's not true. No - well, it is true. But it's not about me. It's like - a story, I guess." He was shifting and tugging something from his back pocket; she hadn't even noticed the thickness as they'd walked.

Castle pulled out a new notebook, this one black leather with creamy pages and a cord that looped around and around. "I didn't fill it up yet. I thought I could do that as we - as we go along?"

He meant as they were married, didn't he? Throughout their life together. Kate nodded and reached for the journal, her palm burning as it touched her skin. "Can I read it now?"

He actually blushed. "I - yeah. I don't know."

She bit her bottom lip and slowly unraveled the leather cord, smoothing her thumb over the cover as it was revealed. "It would be black leather, wouldn't it?" she murmured, trying to dispel the tension that had crept over him.

Castle chuckled softly and leaned back on his hands, his feet lifting from the water and his eyes carefully not on her. She let him have his dignity and opened the cover.

Kate laughed, delighted with the inked drawing on the front page, the baby elephant with its wide ears, sad eyes. "Castle? Did you draw this?"

"Eh, yeah. It's kinda terrible."

"It's adorable," she hummed, lifting her eyes to him. "Look at all this talent you have, sweetheart."

"You're patronizing me."

"Little bit," she murmured, grinning at him.

He shrugged her off and grumbled a little, but his cheeks were pink. She leaned in and kissed him, sweetly at first, and then with a little more heat to it, stroking her tongue against his and pressing closer.

His fingertips against her cheek, electric and singular, made her gasp and open her eyes.

He looked completely undone. "You haven't even read it yet."

She smiled and bit her lip, pushed in to bite his as well, sucking a little. "I know. But you are irresistible."

"Mm, good to know. Now read it."

She laughed at his impatience and opened the journal again, tracing her fingers over the little elephant on the first page. She had a strange feeling about the words inside, a premonition or a burst of insight. She let herself stare at the block letters a moment before she truly took them in.

This is a story about a little guy named James - the smallest elephant in his herd - whose mother was the fiercest and bravest, and whose father loved him so much that his stature never mattered.

This is a story about a little guy who did amazing, huge things because his parents never stopped believing in him.

This is a story about what matters most.

And of course, Kate was crying.

When she could finally catch her breath and look up at him, he might've been suspiciously avoiding her eyes as well.