Convinced

"You're sure it'll be okay?" Jenny frowns, lines stacked like footholds in her forehead all the way to the pale stretch of her hairline.

"She'll be just fine." Castle grins, setting a comforting hand at Jenny's shoulder. It's painfully early, his eyes brimming with grit as he battles with the winter sunlight tripping through the slats in the blinds. The Ryans, though, seem to have been awake for hours, both of them full up with nervous energy. It seeps through the cracks in their carefully pieced together façade like a backlight.

It's lucky, really, that he's not the sort to be swayed by other people's anxiety, or he'd probably be a wreck right now. Almost as much of a wreck as Kate is, shifting from foot to foot at his side.

"Okay, well, call me if there's anything at all you're unsure about." Jenny says, her arms still full with her daughter. She cradles Brooke's head in one palm, the other ghosting up and down her back. The baby has her little fist hooked in her mother's collar, nose pressed flush with Jenny's neck, and as she finds herself being eased away from her resting place her eyes fly open.

Kevin takes his daughter, scattering kisses over the fine dusting of hair at her scalp and nuzzling at her cheek until she laughs. Those delighted baby giggles that turn Esposito to mush, so it's little wonder that Kate is stepping in to brush her thumb over Brooke's cheek and cooing at the girl.

Castle can't remember ever seeing Beckett so hopelessly sappy as when she has the baby in her arms. The first time she'd ever held her niece her eyes had welled with tears as she'd glanced up at him, arching her neck to press a kiss to his smile.

He likes it. Soft Kate. Kate as a mom. He wants to see more of it, every day. Maybe best not to mention that just yet, though. She needs a little time to settle into it, to establish that she can handle a child just fine.

Ryan hands his daughter over to Kate, a last kiss to her cheek and then he's taking Jenny's hand and leading her over to the door.

"I'll text you hourly updates." Castle offers, using Brooke as an excuse to shift closer to Kate and wrap his hand at her hip. Ostensibly so he can wriggle his fingers at the base of the baby's neck until she laughs, although the warmth of his fiancée is a not unwelcome bonus. She cants into him, settling her weight at his side even as she makes ridiculous faces at the baby in her arms.

Brooke gurgles those happy baby sounds again, seemingly oblivious to her parents' departure. Captivated by her aunt, Castle would guess, and no one could possibly blame her. Not when faced with the arc of Kate's grin, her eyes deep and vibrant as rivers.

"Half-hourly?"

Castle grins, hopes to appease Jenny's heartache at leaving her child at least a little bit. "Sure."

"Thanks." She smiles back, letting her husband guide her out of the loft and down the hallway. Castle moves to his front door, tugging Kate with him so the two of them can wave goodbye. Brooke's tiny fist is hooked around Kate's thumb so that when her aunt waves, her own hand follows. It draws another laugh out of her, loud enough that Jenny turns back, Ryan's grip the only thing keeping her in place.

"Are you waving goodbye to Mommy and Daddy?" Kate murmurs to the girl in her arms, pressing her nose to the crown of Brooke's head and drawing in the scent of her.

After the elevator leaves, the Ryans safely ensconced inside, Castle follows Kate back into the loft and tries not to let his face show how pathetically in love with her he is this morning. Well, okay - even more so than usual.

Kate settles herself at the counter, pressing her thighs together and settling their niece in her lap. Both arms around the girl's stomach to keep her upright, her head pillowed between Kate's breasts, and Rick doesn't think he's ever seen anything in his life that fills him with so much need.

It threatens to bring him to his knees right here in the middle of his living room, roiling in his gut. Almost paralytic in its sweetness. God, he wants to see her with their children. More than anything.

He always thought Alexis was enough. Sure, he'd have liked to have more children. Just. . .not with Meredith. Not with Gina either. Neither of them was ever really receptive to the idea of motherhood, and he couldn't bring himself to do it alone again.

Not that he didn't enjoy every sacred moment of Alexis' childhood, not that he didn't love getting to be her whole world and she his, but for every first word and accident and award at school there was always the space of a heartbeat where he yearned to have someone to turn and share a smile with, someone for whom his daughter's life was just as precious.

And there is not a single thread of doubt in his mind that Kate Beckett would be that for her children. Whole, affected, in it. The best mother any child could possibly think to ask for.

He's a good dad; on his better days he lets himself believe that he's a great dad. But Kate draws his best qualities out, makes him strive to be worthy of her. Together they'd be an unstoppable force of parenting wizardry, he is completely sure of it.

"She okay?"

Kate glances up from the giggling baby in her lap, one hand still busy with the finger puppet Ryan gave them to entertain his daughter with. "She's fine. Don't think she even realises they're gone."

"Are you okay?"

Her brow furrows, mouth turning down at the corners so he can't help himself but to lean in and paint a smile over her face.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

She probably means to sound defensive, but with the sweet fullness of her lower lip brushing his with every word the words come entwined with a sigh.

"It's kind of a big deal, being trusted with someone else's baby for the night." Rick lifts a shoulder, keeps it nonchalant and unthreatening. It is suddenly absolutely imperative that Kate not think he's questioning her abilities already.

"I know. I'm sure we can handle it."

He grins, leans in to press a kiss to her mouth, her jaw, cool and fresh from this morning's shower. Brooke makes a sound somewhere between a gurgle and a whimper that makes Kate laugh, their kiss shattering around her teeth.

"What is it, baby girl? Were we ignoring you?"

God, watching her work to make Brooke laugh is almost definitely going to actually kill him. He's been excited all week at the prospect of seeing Kate with a baby, but it's taken until this moment to process that Kate will be with the baby.

The pair of them are ridiculous. Kate contorting her face into a sappy smile for the little girl that would probably render her unrecognisable to any number of her colleagues, and himself completely ruined by it.

"I figured I'd take her to the park or something today. Try and keep her entertained so she doesn't have time to miss Jenny."

"Right, yeah." Kate bites her lip, dipping her chin until her lashes fall like shadows across her cheeks, obscuring her eyes from him. "I wish. . .I could come with you."

Castle traverses the milky line of her scalp with his mouth, the skin paper-thin and delicate under his touch. It sends shivers clattering down Kate's spine, has her falling forward to rest her cheek at his chest.

"I know. But how would Espo cope by himself? Can't leave him alone."

That makes her laugh, the image of her fellow detective transposed with that of a petulant child in her mind's eye, he can only imagine. And then that makes him think of Esposito stamping his foot and throwing a full blown tantrum and then he's laughing too, Brooke gazing wide-eyed up at the two of them.

"I guess someone has to hold his hand." Kate glances at her watch, the movement bringing her mouth close enough to the crown of Brooke's head that she can press her mouth there and sigh against the fine hair. "I should go."

"You'll be home early?"

"I'll do the best I can."

He wishes he could have more than that. A promise, some kind of tangible reassurance. But this is all she has, and she's offering it up to him as if for inspection. "Call me when you leave and I'll order dinner."

"Will do." She stands, hands the baby over to him with a last kiss to the girl's cheek, lingering at the plump fullness until Brooke squirms. "Call you at lunch?"

"Mm-hmm. Have a good day." He can't help but grin at the domesticity of it all, nudges his smile against Kate's own until she brings a hand up to cradle his jaw, sighing into their kiss.

At the front door, she stops to wave goodbye. More for their niece's benefit than his own, but childish delight rushes through him all the same and he flutters his fingers at her in return. And then she's stepping over the threshold and closing the door and leaving him alone with a four month old baby to entertain for at least twelve hours.

He sucks in a fortifying breath, glances down at the baby cradled against his chest. "Looks like it's you and me, kid."

Brooke, thankfully, does not have any sort of negative feelings towards the stroller the Ryans left with him. She faces outward, so he doesn't see what she's doing, but whatever it is seems to absolutely melt almost everyone they walk past.

A little disconcerting, actually. He'd forgotten how the gift of a particularly adorable baby can make even the most hard-nosed of New Yorkers offer you a smile and step aside to let you pass.

He's looking for the little café he and Alexis used to frequent when she was tiny. The place is warm and welcoming and the tables are spaced far enough apart to make manoeuvring a stroller only the most minor of issues.

Not that he really had that problem with Alexis. He used to take her absolutely everywhere in the baby carrier, could not get enough of the comforting weight of his daughter against his chest. He'll have to remind himself to buy one for the baby-

The baby that does not exist yet, Rick. Not even hypothetically. Don't get ahead of yourself.

He spots the café a little way in the distance, gratitude surging through him at the distraction from his own thoughts. He would spend his whole life basking in thoughts of Kate and the future he yearns to share with her if he could get away with it.

As it is, he has to concentrate on opening the door one-handed and battling his way over to a table in the corner where there's ample space to park up the stroller. He hits the brakes, angling it so he can see Brooke from his own chair and contort his face into something that makes her laugh.

Over at a table nearby, he catches a woman watching him and he straightens up, sends her a self-deprecating grin. She laughs softly, bouncing her knees to encourage her son to crack a smile as well.

"Sometimes I forget that other people can see me too, not just her." He laughs, settling down in his chair and fishing around in the basket underneath the stroller for a toy to give his niece. He plucks out some kind of terrifying contraption with cogs and wheels and lights that attaches to the tray in front of Brooke and immediately has her enthralled.

Huh. Okay. Easier than he thought.

"Well it's easy to make a fool of ourselves for the sake of our children, I guess." The woman is saying, offering a juice carton to her son as she picks at her sandwich with the other.

Rick shifts in his chair to face her and tries to tamper down the charm. He doesn't do it on purpose, has yet to find the off switch, and he hates having women swoon over him nowadays. Not when there's only one woman in his heart.

Kate. He should call her; see how her morning is going. But first to deal with this woman. "She's well worth it."

"You have a lovely daughter."

"She's my niece." Castle grins, turning back to right the toy Brooke has somehow knocked over. The noise sends shards splintering behind his eyes and he winces, presses the bridge of his nose hard between two fingers.

"If you want I can watch her while you grab a coffee, looks like you need it."

Damn this woman and her niceness. And how very right she is. He should rightfully be on at least his second cup of the day by now. Not being at the precinct has thrown off his whole routine. It's not rude of him to take advantage of this woman's generosity, is it?

"That'd be great, thanks."

When Rick makes it back to the table the woman, whose name he still somehow does not know, is gushing over Brooke, simpering noises spilling out of her as if she doesn't even hear herself. On Kate, it would be adorable. On this woman, it grates.

"Thank you so much for that. I should probably call my wife, reassure her that the baby is fine. Excuse me."

"Sure." The woman smiles at him, gathering up her belongings where they're scattered like debris across the table top and packing them away into her bag. "Nice to meet you."

Huh. Not a trace of irritation at having been shot down. Okay, so maybe he overreacted just a little. He's just used to women finding him being a father painfully attractive; the whole of Alexis' childhood he was like nectar.

And now too late he's realising that he called Kate his wife again, and he really needs to get a hold of that before he does it somewhere really inopportune like to a suspect or to Gates or heaven forbid to Kate herself.

Castle sucks in air through his teeth and dials her number, resting a hand in Brooke's lap because she seems to be fascinated with his fingers and grinning at her even as his call connects.

"Hey, Castle."

"Hey. I'm getting coffee in this adorable little café and Brooke is perfectly content, so I figured I'd catch up with my favourite detective."

Kate huffs a sigh in his ear, rolling her eyes at him no doubt, but he doesn't miss the thread of tension in her voice when she speaks. "She's okay?"

"Yeah. She's totally fine. I, on the other hand, am not. I miss you."

"I miss you too, Castle." She gives him, sotto voce. "Precinct's quiet without you."

"Catch a case?"

Beckett groans, so close to the noises he gets when he worships her body with his mouth, his hands that he has to grit his teeth and let his eyes slam closed. "Ugh, no, just paperwork. Nothing exciting."

He opens his mouth to reply and suddenly Brooke's whole face crumples, her cries increasing in both pitch and volume more rapidly than he was fully prepared for. Castle stares at the baby for a long moment, panic thick and slow as it curls through his veins, and then Kate's laughter in his ear startles him into action.

"I'll let you go deal with that, buddy. Text me later?"

"Uhuh." He says, already on his way to hanging up. Reaching in to the stroller, he lifts the screaming girl up to rest against his chest and bounces her gently, tries to let his natural instincts take over.

Crap.

Now what?