To start, let me apologize for the delay in getting this chapter out to you guys. I hope you won't hold it against me!

Out of the Blue

"Hey, I just walked in the door. Where are you?"

Already? She isn't supposed to be back from work for another four hours at least. He'd timed this entire adventure with her schedule in mind. All for nothing, apparently.

"I, ah," he hedges, looking up at the windows of the loft as the cab that dropped him off peels away from the curb. He probably should've mentioned his plans to her before leaving, but he'd only decided after kissing her goodbye and sending her off to work. And he'd figured she'd have enough on her plate after her leave of absence that she wouldn't need him interrupting.

"Castle?"

"I had to run back to New York. I needed more clothes and to drop off those extra books I signed at my publisher. Anything you want me to pick up from home while I'm here?"

"Ah. No, I think I'm okay. Unless you want to bring that tea I like? I've been trying to find it around here and it's practically impossible."

"Done, Beckett. Sorry I didn't tell you, I thought I'd make it here and back before you got home." And while he's in the airport waiting for his flight back, he'll purchase a case if he can.

She must have him on speaker now, because she sounds far away as she replies, "You're fine, Castle. I'm only home because I had to leave work early. I wasn't feeling well."

Wincing, he makes a sympathetic noise. She'd been fine most of the tour, but during one of their last stops, she'd started feeling queasy and the feeling hasn't really gone away since.

"Sorry," he murmurs. "Maybe the tea will help. I'll put it in my bag as soon as I get inside." Yeah, he's definitely going to stock up on it.

"Thanks, babe," she hums. Now she's closer again. He hears the rustle of fabric – the sheets on her bed – and a quiet sigh of pleasure. "Might need to help me buy Villante a new pair of shoes, though."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes," she confirms. "It was mortifying. And after that, he pulled me aside and told me to come home and get some rest."

Poor Kate. He knows this wasn't the first day back she wanted to have, no matter how she wants the job decision to go.

"So I'm going to nap until you get back, or close to it. Pick up some food for dinner on your way in?"

He smiles, dipping his chin. "Whatever you want."

That goes without saying most of the time, but still, he says it anyway. He'll stop at the grocery store and get the ingredients for her favorite. No more take out, no more restaurant food for a while. Healthy diet for her, for the baby, for him. Except for the occasional ice cream, of course.

"Mhmm thanks," she's already drifting off. "M'glad you're rich, know that?"

Laughter bubbles from his lips, earning him strange looks from the neighbors in his lobby. "Why's that, Beckett?"

"Cause you can do that. Fly to New York and back, and s'easy. You make all of this easy," she adds on an exhale. "M'the one who makes it hard."

She's so tired, she's lobbing him softballs. Sadly, she realizes what she's said before he has a chance to come up with something good in response.

"Shut up."

He grins, dipping his head to avoid more looks.

"I love you, too. I'll see you in a few hours."

He has a feeling she's asleep before he even hangs up the phone.

It's later than he wants when he lets himself in her apartment door, hoisting a bag of groceries up his forearm and tugging his rolling bag behind him. The place is dark and quiet; she's either given up on him bringing dinner and ducked out for food on her own or she's still asleep.

"Kate?"

No response. But she hasn't texted him, and there's no note anywhere. Still asleep, then. In that case, he'll let her rest a little longer while he starts on their dinner. He has a feeling the smell of food might even wake her up.

He's only getting started when he hears the gentle slap of her bare feet on the tiles. It's all the warning he gets before her arms snake around him and her cheek nuzzles his back.

"Hey," she greets after a second, her voice still rough with sleep. "You just get back?"

"Few minutes ago." Twisting, he manages to catch her forehead with his lips. Her skin's damp, fresh and clean smelling. She must've been in the shower or the bath when he got in. "How'd you sleep?"

"Mhmm, not bad. Not too nauseous now."

"Good," he hums, dipping to kiss her. She tastes minty fresh, making him feel stale by comparison. "Want me to make you tea?"

Kate's nose crinkles adorably. Oh, maybe his breath really is that bad. "I'll get it; I have energy to burn now. You finish dinner."

"Right," he agrees, attention shifting back to their half-prepped meal. "But first, I'm going to brush my teeth. Shouldn't have had those pretzels on the plane."

"No no, you're fine. Hey, you're fine," she promises, catching his arm before he can escape to the apartment's one tiny bathroom and fix the problem. "I, on the other hand, was not. But you're good." A tiny kiss lands on his jaw, then another on his lips again.

"Stay, I just got a concentrated taste of my toothpaste," she adds, dipping her fingers into his back pocket. "How was New York? Everything okay at home?"

He smiles, reaching for a glass of water to swish anyway, just to be safe. The last thing he wants is to make her queasy just by being himself. He's already backed down on his aftershave and decided to switch his deodorant just in case.

"Yeah, everything's good. I dropped those books off, grabbed more clothes. It's a good thing the housekeeper came while we were gone, because I'm pretty sure we forgot to take the garbage out before we left. That could've been bad."

"Ew, yeah that is a good thing."

Bumping him to the side, she settles the kettle on the range, deftly flicking the controls until the surface hums to life. He hates cooking on electric, but this place is all about energy efficiency or something, so no gas it is.

"What else?"

"Brought the mail with me. The pile's on the table over there. I didn't know you were forwarding everything to the loft and not here."

Kate smiles easily, stepping into him. "I get most of the bill notices in my email, and I know you'll pay more attention to the other important things than I will."

"Mhmm, I pay attention to all the things about you." He wipes his hand on a dishtowel before winding it around her to settle firmly on her backside. Even in a threadbare t-shirt and worn leggings, she's hot.

But what's more is the subtext in her words. Her mail goes to him because they're in this together. She trusts him to handle anything big that comes up in New York with her apartment, or with anything else for that matter, while she's here.

"Just tell me what, if anything, I should watch out for. And I solemnly promise to forward all chain letters on your behalf, Beckett."

"You mean those aren't email-only these days?"

Their lips collide, teeth clashing a little bit thanks to their grins, but he'll take it. He loves playful Kate.

"And I also swear to reply with a firm yes when your offer to model for Super Hot Secret Agent Monthly comes in."

Her eyes narrow and he knows she's sizing him up to determine what he knows and what she'll give away with her next question. He's seen that look hundreds of times and it's sexy every single time.

"Ryan or Espo?"

"Neither."

"Dammit, Dad."

He laughs, swaying with her. There's not much room for dancing in the galley kitchen, but they can make it work. They always do.

"Don't blame him, I asked for more pictures."

"Okay, you're not allowed to hang out without me anymore. This is just not fair," she bemoans, pouting up at him.

"How is it not fair? You had police access to my greatest hits of drunken insanity. And I've told you so many stories about my misspent youth." Though there's always more he could tell her, and more his mother could show her. Damn she might just make good on the threats to go to his mom.

"Yeah, but, ugh," she trails off, resting her forehead on his shoulder. "It was one summer and a couple times during breaks from school when there was no one else who could work. And then I stopped when classes got to be too much and never looked back. Happy?"

Extremely. "I'm marrying a model. As a red-blooded man, I'm extremely happy."

She makes a disgusted noise, the one that says he's an idiot and she can't figure out why she loves him as much as she does, but she settles closer anyway. "Fine, good. I'm glad. You're still banned from bonding this much with my dad. At least until I'm in a position to get the dirt on you from Martha."

"She'll never spill my secrets." It's a lie, an utter lie, and they both know it.

"Not until I get the second glass of pinot in her." She grins, kissing his frown triumphantly.

"Anyway, go check out your mail while I finish this up. Then I wanna hear about work."

He pours her tea while she's distracted, bringing it to her carefully. She's been reading her mail silently for the last few minutes, though every so often he catches a hint of a sigh. She doesn't seem to be upset, though, just contemplative.

"Thanks," she murmurs, leaning her temple on his chin with her first sip. It's probably too hot for that, but it's what she does every time. One searing first taste and then she waits for it to cool down to a manageable temperature for anyone not looking to burn their taste buds away.

They could sit while their food cooks, but she seems content to stay on her feet and he's content to stay where she is. He spent too long sitting today anyway; standing at the table with his arms around his fiancée is not a hardship. Especially not when he can see something brewing in her mind.

"They want me to stay on," she says finally, folding the last of her mail back into its envelope. "At work. They said I'm still an asset they want, even if I can't be in the field."

He had a feeling they would say that. She's one of the best, she really is, and not just because she's a crack shot and hell on heels. It's the way her mind works, the way she considers everything, the way she doesn't let go until the answer makes sense with the story. She's told him he taught her to be that kind of cop.

"But?" he asks, covering her belly with his hand. She'll get tired of him doing that eventually, but for now he feels some of her seriousness fade with the touch. A smile even turns her lips up, just a little bit, before she sighs again.

"Do we really want to do this here, Castle? Have this baby away from its grandparents and our friends?"

"Beckett, people do it all the time."

She fixes him with a withering look. "I know that, Castle. My dad's parents lived hours away and it meant only seeing them on special occasions. And for the most part, that was fine, but looking back now I feel like maybe I missed out on something. With my mom's parents, I got weekends and afternoons after school, and my mom could ask for help when she needed it… if we're here, it's just us."

His thumb sweeps just under her navel as he attempts to come up with the right words. "What if we did this," he starts carefully, "we go back to New York as soon as your maternity leave starts and spend the entire time there. Your dad can stay with us if he wants. Hell, he can come here and stay here whenever he wants, before the baby's born or after. Well, maybe not here here, but when we get a different place, there here. And then when you need to come back to work, we come back to work."

She sags against him, curling her hand around his arm. "You're supposed to tell me we should just go home and I can beg to get my job with the NYPD back and everything will be fine."

"I could tell you that, Beckett, but I won't."

"Why the hell not?" She sounds almost offended, twisting to face him.

"Because I don't think you want to go back. I think New York and the police force is the comforting choice. The safe idea. But I also think we wouldn't be here if we wanted the safe, comforting choice, would we?"

"Well, no, but does that mean we made the right choice? I mean I pushed for this, was it the right thing to do?"

He shifts, turning her to face him. They can't have this conversation without facing each other. They've had enough conversations and non-conversations like that.

"Do you like your work, Kate?"

She nods slowly. "Yeah, of course I do."

"Do you love your work? I know you've barely started and having a baby's going to put a crimp in exactly how you do it, but do you love the work you're doing with the task force?"

That makes her hesitate. "I … well it's like you said, I've barely started. I don't know if I love it yet or not."

"Okay," he assures, shifting a little bit. "Then you need to take the time to decide if you love it. And if you don't, then we make a change. And if that change happens after the baby's born, that's okay."

She smiles softly, nodding. "Okay. I can do that if you can do that."

"I can do that, Kate," he promises, sliding his hands up her arms. "You know I can do that."

Her lips brush his carefully. "I'd like to have my dad come, too. To see us while we're here. However long we're here. And I want him to see the baby on more than just special occasions."

Nodding in agreement, he rubs her arms. "He will, promise. Remember, I'm rich? We can fly him down all the time."

Beckett nods, too, looking around before adding, "But not here, you're right. We'll need to move. I take it you've looked at places already?"

"Just to get an idea of what's out there."

Affection fills her eyes. "Is there anything you're not prepared for?"

"Ah, let me think," he pretends to ponder, waiting until she's giggling quietly to pull her closer. Their arms wind around each other, her palms flattening against his back. "Nope. I think I'm pretty well-prepared for just about everything 'us' related. And Zombies."

"And Zombies," she echoes, bumping her forehead against his chin. "Show me what you found while we eat?"

He doesn't have much to show her. Mostly he looked at what's available at different price points, and what it would take to get something comfortable and suitable for their family, but he can show her that research. Maybe they can make a wish list tonight and he'll start actively looking at listings tomorrow.

His lips brush her hairline. "You got it, Kate."