This chapter is long, so I'll keep things brief. Thank you to everyone for sticking with this story and this journey. I hope you'll continue to enjoy the ride.

Out of the Blue - Chapter 12

"You're sure you don't mind that I started without you?"

Kate huffs in his ear. "Yes, Castle. The paint needs to be completely dry before I can do the decals I want. Plus, we both know it's easier if you do it while I'm out of the loft."

She has a point there. As hard as they'd tried to keep the fumes from bothering her when they did the nursery in DC, they still made her feel rough. So it's really a good thing that he's using his fit of boredom to paint the baby's room here in New York. This way, when she arrives tomorrow to begin her maternity leave, it should be ready to finish up. No irritating fumes necessary.

"As long as you're sure. 'Cause I could stop painting right now with two walls finished, one totally blank, and a single, tasteful line of paint down another."

"Castle, it's paint, not a ceremonial moment I'm missing. As long as the color is nice, I have no problem with not being there to see it go on the walls. Especially since I've got the kid with me."

"Rub it in why don't you? And you're sure you don't want me to fly down to escort you home tomorrow morning?"

Beckett laughs. "That's sweet, but I think I can make it through the airport and onto the plane just fine. There's nothing too strenuous about today; I'm just here to finish up my paperwork and hand anything that's still on my desk off to someone else. Then I'll be on the plane tomorrow and we'll be free to start driving each other insane until this kid makes his appearance."

"Yeah, that's true. And I've already got my list of ways to take your mind off swollen ankles and backaches."

"And most of them will make me want to shoot you, won't they?"

"Mmm, probably," he pops his lips, knowing it'll make her smile. "'Cept for the sexy ones."

"Oh, I like the sound of those. Can't wait."

"Me either. Been a long week." It has; he's been in New York for a whirlwind week of meetings and revisions for Wild Storm in hopes of having it completed before the baby comes, leaving him with only Raging Heat on his plate.

"Yeah it has," she exhales. He hears a murmur on her end of the line and just knows what's coming. "Listen, babe, I gotta go. McCord wants me in a meeting."

"Kay, I'm gonna go back to work upstairs. I was just taking a coffee break." And he has been… for about an hour. "Call me later?"

"Uh huh, now who's rubbing it in?" she laughs softly. "I will. I love you."

Hearing that never gets old. "Love you, too."

He waits until he's sure the call has ended before tucking his phone into his pocket. Then, taking a slow pull from his coffee, he reaches for the TV remote.

Yes, he should go back to work, but his coffee will be cold by the time he comes back to it. Besides, it never hurts to catch up on the outside world.

Seeing Esposito and Ryan on screen only makes his TV break more important. Come to think of it, he hasn't worked a crime scene in months. It might be fun to pop in on them and offer his brilliance for the first time in a while.

Decision made, he digs his phone out of his pocket to make the call to Esposito.

The painting can wait a little longer.

Imagine his surprise when, just moments after Gates has grudgingly allowed him to stay at the precinct to work the case, he turns around to find his fiancée standing with her de facto partner, announcing their semi-hostile takeover.

"Beckett! What are you doing here?"

Kate grimace smiles, speaking out of the corner of her mouth, "McCord asked me to come with her… be her go-between on this case. I was going to surprise you and come home tonight instead of tomorrow."

He won't kiss her in front of the others, but his hand connects with her back eagerly. He'll take whatever contact he can get after being apart for a week.

"Well done," he grins, pressing his thumb against the spot he knows has been troubling her for the past two weeks. "So I take it maternity leave is being pushed back until the close of this case?"

She leans into his hand a little more, exhaling at his impromptu massage. Sitting on the plane must've irritated that nerve more than usual.

"Yeah, but on the bright side, I'm still getting paid for the next few days and no more sleeping without my masseuse."

"And you have me here to help with this case."

She tugs her lip between her teeth. "Well…"

Oh, it's like that, then.

"And of course, you know Agent Beckett," McCord breaks in, gesturing to Kate and fixing him with a look he still doesn't quite understand. She doesn't like him, but he has no idea why. In fact, he actually hasn't butted into Kate's work at all, but McCord acts like he's been a nuisance the whole time.

Reluctantly, Beckett steps away from his hand, offering her former colleagues a pleasant, but a bit uncomfortable, smile.

Suffice to say, he's the only one to return it. That's okay; if she's the liaison, then he's the liaison for the liaison.

And it wouldn't hurt to find out why the Attorney General is interested in the death of a 90s sitcom star. He does love intrigue, after all. Even if Beckett's "not at liberty to say."

Still, as the case goes on he finds himself torn between his fiancée and his, well, his team. On their way back to the precinct after a round of interviews, he asks the boys to swing by the loft so he can get tea for Beckett, earning him a calculating look from Esposito. That look makes sense when Ryan finally suggests he use his unique position to get some answers out of her.

But he doesn't. At least not much.

McCord disappears into Gates' office relatively soon after they return, and he settles beside Beckett in the conference room, holding out her favorite blue mug.

She exhales, lowering the screen on her laptop so he can't see anything and reaching for the tea. "Thanks, Castle."

"Sorry it couldn't be a latte."

Her lips turn up and he wants to taste that smile of hers, but he refrains for the sake of decorum.

"Yeah, me too. But thank you for going all the way home for this." She lifts the mug to her lips, breathing in the sweetness of the drink. "You're not at the board with the boys?"

"Wanted to come see you."

"That's sweet. You're not getting anything out of me, Castle, but that's sweet."

He gawks. "How did…"

"Little tip for you, babe," she hums, tilting her head closer to his. "You boys don't whisper as quietly as you think you do. So if you're going to conspire, don't do it in the hallway."

Damn.

"You sure about that, Beckett?" he tries instead. "I can't tempt you even a little bit?"

"Only if you're hiding a cheeseburger in your pocket."

His eyebrows wiggle. "No cheeseburgers, but I have something else I could offer you, Beckett."

She laughs, rolling her eyes. "Isn't that mine anyway?" She sips her tea, glancing at her computer.

"Well yes, of course that is, but –" he stumbles, thumbing her knuckles gently. "I know I can solve this, I just need a little more to go on."

"Uh huh," she hums, glancing around before slipping her fingers between his. "Good old fashioned police work not doing it for you?"

"You do it for me."

She snorts. "Cute, but you're not going to Castle me on this."

The laptop in front of them beeps, and he feels his eyebrow shoot up. That sounds like she was doing a search. A search that just finished.

"Okay, how about this. Just … nod once if it's about the Russians, twice if it's about something else," he tries, watching her purse her lips and lift an eyebrow before nodding twice. "Twice, something else."

Beckett nods again, smirking.

"Wait, three times? I don't… what does that mean? I don't know what that means."

Beckett's computer chimes again, this time in tandem with McCord breezing in. "Beckett, what do you have for me – Castle."

His fiancée squeezes his hand firmly, the apology evident in the touch, before she untangles their fingers and sits up straighter. "Castle brought me some tea, but he knows I'm here working."

Straightening up, he nods. "Right. Well, I'll just… go see what Ryan and Esposito have. Yell if you need anything, Beckett. Even if you're just bored."

He watches her worry her lip between her teeth before she nods. "I will, thanks, Castle."

McCord shuts the door in his face as soon as he clears the threshold. Friendly, McCord, very friendly.

And he didn't even kiss his fiancée when he had the chance, damn.

He joins Esposito a moment later, trying to ignore the detective's expectant look.

"Well?"

Shaking his head, he slumps onto the side of the desk. "She won't talk to me about the case."

Esposito sighs, watching McCord leave the conference room, coat in hand this time. "So you don't know where she's going?"

"Nope. Kicked me out before saying a word." Off 'Sito's look, he defends himself, "Hey, McCord hates me for some reason, and I wasn't going to interrogate Beckett. All I know is she was running some kind of search and it finished just as McCord came back."

Ryan calls their names, "And now ours has too. I think we know what Charlie was looking into."

Well, he has to hand it to Charlie Reynolds. He is probably the world's least likely spy which – until someone found out and killed him, of course – probably made him the world's best spy (gun-runner, whatever), too.

Now they just have to figure out who knew what he was up to and decided to kill him for it.

Beckett meets them at the edge of the bullpen, offering a warm mug and a soft smile to him.

"Thought you might like this. I think I got a caffeine rush just from making it. So it was a win for me, too."

He grins, taking the mug from her fingers carefully. As soon as they make the handoff, he tucks a strand of her hair behind her ears. "You look stir crazy."

Her frustrated huff shouldn't make him smile, but it does.

"Your son's butt is crushing my diaphragm and it only gets worse when I sit."

He grins. "Always my son when he's getting in trouble. Never the spawn of Rebel Becks, huh?"

Kate laughs, groaning a moment later. "Castle, make him move," she whines softly. "I can't work like this."

Sipping quickly, he sets the mug on a ledge to take her belly between both hands. His fingers move against her shirt, before one hand finally moves to the top of her stomach, just below her breasts. He presses gently, trying to convince his son to give up a little bit of real estate. He's not sure how effective it is, but at least he tries.

"He'll drop soon, Kate."

She grumbles, rubbing her side. "He'd better. They said around 35 weeks. It's almost 36 weeks."

"He will." He glances around quickly before pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Come on, maybe a quick walk will help. We'll go tease the boys with some more fake baby names."

Beckett chuffs again, picking up his mug. "Do I need to remind you you're still trying to solve a murder, Castle?"

His hand connects with her back as they make their way to the murder board. Ryan and Esposito are already looking everything over again, talking about which members of the Renkov family they may end up becoming more acquainted with before the case is finished.

"Ah, Beckett, you know I'm a multitasker at heart."

She shakes her head, pursing her lips when Ryan shoots them a questioning glance.

Kevin lifts a shoulder, continuing his thought process anyway, "I bet one of them found out Charlie was a spy and they killed him."

"Especially since we know Charlie was followed to the warehouse," Beckett offers, leaning a hip against the desk.

The boys give her a look, asking how she knows. He stands at Beckett's side, thumb brushing the small of her back as she warms her hands on his coffee mug, explaining her search results from earlier.

"Why, how'd you guys get there?"

"Chicken poop," Esposito says wryly.

He snickers, leaning over her shoulder to tease, "Good old fashioned police work, Beckett."

She elbows him gently. "The point is someone was following him. That's where I'd focus… if I were investigating."

They're all surprised – Beckett included – when McCord steps up moments later and puts the kibosh on the entire investigation. Washington is shutting their case down.

The CIA might think Charlie Reynolds is disposable, but the NYPD doesn't. He knows Beckett doesn't either, but her hands are tied and McCord won't be moved. Even after almost ten minutes of arguing.

"I guess I should pack things up," she says finally, slumping against him a little more. Ryan and Esposito have stalked off, looking at Beckett like a traitor to the cause, but he's not going anywhere. "Let's hope McCord doesn't drag me back to DC to debrief in the morning."

"Considering your maternity leave actually starts tomorrow, do you think she would?"

Kate shakes her head. "No, I think if I submit my part of everything tonight, it'll be fine." She exhales. "I am sorry… about this."

"Beckett, I know. You didn't give the order. And it's just until the CIA finishes their operation, right? It'll be harder to find the killer later, but it's still doable. We've done more with less."

She smiles faintly. "I hope so."

Beckett finds him in the break room a little while later, bag on her shoulder. He gets to his feet, eager to take the bag from her even though he has a feeling three quarters of the contents are probably classified, but she waves him off, gently tugging on his jacket lapel.

"I'm going to treat Agent McCord to dinner before she goes back to her hotel. See you at home in a bit?"

"Kay… do you think having your lovely fiancé join you for dinner would be acceptable to her?" Probably not, but maybe McCord just needs to actually get to know him to make her stop hating him.

Beckett bites her lip. "I think," she hums, leaning in. "that you should take the boys out for a drink. And maybe remind them that I'm not the bad guy here?"

He feels something drop into his jacket pocket, but a firm press of her lips smothers any question he might ask.

"A drink sounds good," he murmurs, holding her sides.

"Good, then I'll see you at home." She smiles. "Call me if anything comes up… kay?"

That's a, oh that's a hint. He nods, thumbing her jacket quickly.

"I… will."

"Good."

And then she's walking out of the break room and across the bullpen to meet McCord at the elevator. He doesn't even need to check his pocket to know what she's given him.

The chance to solve this case.

With the intel Beckett's given them, they could easily work all night to finish this case, but when Jenny calls to ask if Kevin's going to be home to eat, they decide to break and get it done in the morning. They have to make their case to Gates first, anyway.

Since Beckett hasn't sent him a plea to get her out of eating with her co-worker, he grabs his own meal and heads home. The loft is quiet, save for the fan he left running this morning, and he decides to eat quickly before he goes back to painting. He did promise he'd get the nursery done, after all.

That's where Kate finds him, singing into his paint roller microphone on his way to the final wall. He still has edging to do around the room, but after this wall, he is done with the first coat.

Her little laugh clues him in that she's watching him from the doorway.

"Beckett! Hey, hey. How was dinner?" Pulling the paint tray off the step stool, he shuffles across the drop cloths to offer it to her. "I can put you by the window, but it's kinda cold, or by the fan?"

She stills him with a hand against his chest and a soft kiss. "Window's fine, s'why I put the sweater on."

Nodding, he arranges the stool carefully, offering her a hand to help her sit. She's close enough to the window that she gets the fresh air, but not so close that she'll freeze or end up touching the sticky paint.

"Thanks, Castle." She rubs her belly over her – his – sweatshirt. "Dinner was good. I took her to that Mediterranean place on 64th and then caught a cab back from her hotel. That's what took so long."

"You're okay. You missed me eating a sub and having a small painting dance party."

Smiling, she nods. "Oh I caught the last part."

He grins, touching her cheek and dipping to kiss her hello. Finally. He has a week's worth of kisses to make up for; he'd better get started.

"Which part?"

She laughs, patting his ass. "I came in just in time for the tail end of the shimmy."

Her tongue pokes out cheekily. Yeah, he sees what she did there. Still, he demonstrates the full move for her, stealing another slow kiss when she giggles. "What do you think of the color?"

She looks around. "It looks great, Castle. Want me to take care of some of the edging? Not at the top, obviously, but at the baseboards and around here?"

"Mmm, no. I'm saving that for tomorrow after I come back from the precinct. Along with the second coat."

Kate's smile dims, but she nods. "So it was helpful, then? The satellite footage? You didn't call…"

He kneels, ignoring the protest from his bad knee. "Yeah it was. We're gonna run it by Gates in the morning and then do what we can."

She brushes a dried smudge of paint on his t-shirt. "Good. That's smart."

Her fingers are a little swollen tonight, he notices. Maybe it's from the cold, or just something he's overlooked before, but he sees the way her skin looks irritated. Probably from trying to put her ring on as soon as she got home. Lifting a hand, he brushes his fingers over the curve of her knuckles and down the line of her wrist before he lifts her palm to his mouth.

"My ring doesn't fit," she huffs, answering his unspoken question. "I tried this morning before I left and I tried again just now."

"That's okay. It'll fit again soon. What's bothering you?" he asks, because he knows there's something. He feels it in the way she touched him just a moment ago, he's seen it all day long.

"I hated today."

He shifts, ignoring his discomfort as he moves closer. One arm lands on the stool for balance. He strokes her knuckles gently with his other hand.

"You did?"

"Not… seeing you and seeing the boys, and not being here, obviously," she promises, pressing a quick kiss on his mouth before straightening again. "But having to leave things the way they were, not being able to follow through for Charlie… seeing the disappointment from Ryan and Espo. I hated that."

"Hey," he chides softly, thumbing her hip. "They weren't disappointed in you."

Kate bites her lip, turning disbelieving eyes on him. When it comes to the people she's closest to, Beckett cares far more than she lets on, and the stress of being up against her old team definitely got to her.

"You know how they get, Kate. They say stuff like that to me all the time. It's just teasing."

She exhales. "Yeah, but –"

"I'm me?" He feels the corner of his mouth lift. "Double standard much, Beckett?" His lips brush the inside of her wrist to let her know he's teasing.

Her head dips toward his. "I'm… it's gotta be the hormones, I know. I've been on the job long enough to understand how it has to work sometimes, that some agencies take priority over others and you have to step on toes to get it done. I just hate feeling like I'm letting Charlie down. And letting them down. And letting you down. And maybe even letting my kid down, too, and he's not even born yet."

"Honey," he murmurs, grunting when his knee cracks as he shifts closer. "You're not letting anyone down. Not me, not Charlie Reynolds, not Ryan or Esposito, and definitely not this kid."

Beckett sighs, letting her temple rest against his.

"Let me ask you something," he starts, slipping his hand under her sweatshirt to touch her back. She shivers a little, muttering about his cold fingers, but doesn't pull away. "Is this the first homicide you've worked since you joined the task force? No specifics needed, just… is this the first time you've had to do something like this? Where solving the murder isn't the ultimate objective of the case."

He can feel her thinking.

"… yeah, it might be. In other cases, we've needed to find the killer to recover things, to find out if there was intel being leaked, if they were part of a larger plot or if they just got caught in the middle of a bad situation. This might be the first time the needs of the mission haven't run in line with the needs of the victim."

He nods, tracing his fingers over the ridges of her spine. "Combine that with the case being here, with having to go against the boys…" he trails off, refusing to put himself on an opposing side from her. "It's going to feel rough. But you're not letting me down because of that, Kate."

"Charlie Reynolds deserves more than being a footnote in a CIA mission file, Castle."

"And that's why you gave me the satellite footage. So we can make sure that doesn't happen."

"Yeah," she breathes.

"What do you think will happen when McCord finds out you gave it to me?"

Beckett shrugs. "She'll be angry. But I hope she'll understand why it's important to at least attempt to follow things through to the end."

"And if she doesn't?"

"I could be censured, reprimanded, maybe fired if they think the offense is egregious enough. Of course they'd probably wait until after my maternity leave is over, but it's all a possibility."

He traces the line of her spine.

"You didn't have to take that risk, Kate."

She smiles cupping the back of his neck and kissing him softly. "I did. And I'd do it again."

"Then you know there's no way you could disappoint me or this baby."

Kate rubs her nose against his. "Get me a paintbrush, Castle. I want to help paint my kid's room."

"Kay," he grins, moving his hands to hold her cheeks. "If you insist."

Despite his best intentions, Beckett's awake and out of the loft before him in the morning. Vaguely, he remembers her phone ringing and Rachel McCord's voice over the speaker, which meant Ryan and Esposito had come in exceedingly early to talk to Gates before McCord caught her flight. Whatever was said in the meeting must have been enough for the other agent to summon his fiancée.

Said fiancée smiles gratefully when he appears at her side at the murder board, offering her mug of tea.

"Long morning?" he asks, knowing the answer already.

Kate sips, shutting her eyes against the world. His hands come up to steady her if she sways, cupping her elbows gently.

"McCord's livid, but she agreed to let the investigation go ahead. For the sake of preserving the CIA's mission, we're bringing Svetlana in."

"That was your spin?"

"Yeah," she murmurs, opening her eyes again.

"Good spin," he praises, thumbing her arm.

"Almost like I know a writer." She quirks a smile. "You gonna watch once she gets here?"

"Of course I am."

Hours later, he finds her worrying her lip in the observation room, eyes fixed on Svetlana Renkov. She's been running interference between McCord and Gates all day, sticking up for the NYPD's actions and pushing for justice for Charlie. As a result, she looks completely worn out.

"Beckett?"

"She's pregnant, Castle. She found out the night before Charlie was killed."

That's not a secret; he'd been watching the interrogation with Ryan and Esposito when Svetlana told Beckett and McCord. His gut had clenched at the knowledge that Charlie's kid was going to grow up without a father, that Charlie hadn't even known he was going to be a dad.

"It's a suicide mission," she muses, palming her stomach thoughtfully. "She's pregnant and the CIA's sending her on a suicide mission."

Now that's news. He steps beside her, hand falling to her back.

"They want her to spy for them?"

She nods, looking up at him finally. "To finish the operation. She's not cut out for that. Her family will kill her, Castle, and her baby."

Oh. Oh. That's not good at all. That's not what Beckett's about. Sending an innocent person in as bait… that's not why she does what she does.

"What are you going to do?" He turns her to face him. She has a plan already, he knows. "Whatever it is, I'm in."

Beckett smiles softly, lifting a hand to his cheek. "I'm handling it. Just be ready for my maternity leave to start. That's what you can do."

Pressing his lips to her fingertips, he nods. "More than ready."

"Good. I am, too. It starts as soon as I leave here tonight."

"And we can finish the nursery," he decides to play along. "I heard Lanie wants to have a day out next time she's off."

She nods in return, the smile not quite calming the storm in her eyes, but it's a start. "She does. I think she wants to do a shower soon."

"That'd be good," he kisses her forehead quickly. "Once you're done here, we can pick up food at Remy's on our way home."

She hesitates. It's just a momentary tic, but he sees it anyway. "Sure, that sounds good. I'm just… waiting for McCord," she trails off, and he turns to watch the woman lift her phone to her ear.

Agent McCord's face tightens at whatever she hears on the other end. Beside him, Beckett seems to hold her breath.

Whatever she was planning, this must be it. His hand settles on her waist in support.

"Damn it." McCord snaps, turning back to Agent Wright. "Someone alerted the press, told them she's under investigation; possible ties to organized crime. Call WITSEC and start the paperwork to relocate her."

He knows what that means: she's useless to the CIA now. Her family's going to cut her off and close ranks.

Beckett sags against him, swallowing hard. He feels her hand press against her stomach as she murmurs, "Too bad."

Cupping her face, he gets her eyes. "Did you –"

"Yeah," she breathes, eyes darting back to McCord. The woman's body language screams that she's pissed, and from the way she's glaring into Observation, she has a target for her aggression in mind. "Got off the phone a few minutes before you came in. Must've been a slow news day; they worked fast."

"Kate that's –"

"I know. But I couldn't let them toss her into that situation. Her or her baby. Not after the man she loved was murdered."

His hand slips up and down her side. "You'll be… Beckett this is bigger than a USB drive with satellite pictures on it."

"Yeah. It's not going to be pretty. So when Rachel comes in here in a few minutes… I need you to wait outside."

"Beckett –"

She kisses him hard, pushing her tongue into his mouth quickly to shut him up.

"I won't tell my son that I catch bad guys as long as it serves the needs of the CIA, or the FBI, or the Secret Service, and if not I just shrug and move on. I don't want to do this job if it means putting pregnant women and children at risk. If it means almost letting a murderer walk free and leaving a victim's loved ones wondering. I can live with the bureaucracy. I can live with the political doubletalk. I can live with some compromises. But I can't live with that."

He thumbs her cheek. "Then don't. Honor the victims the way you always do. And I will love you as I always do."

Beckett nods, swiping underneath her eyes quickly. "I will," she clears her throat as she pulls away and squares her shoulders. "I will."

They both watch McCord move to the door, tracking her path until she's out of sight, only to appear in front of them a moment later.

"Agent Beckett, a word in the conference room?"

Forty-five nearly excruciating minutes later, Beckett emerges from the conference room, coat on and a significantly lighter looking bag on her shoulder. Her head's held high, but the strain of the day is written on her face, not to be hidden by a stiff upper lip. Still, she hugs the boys with promises to see them (and Jenny and little Sarah Grace) soon before stepping over and reaching for him.

Silently, he takes her bag and winds her arm through his, covering her hand warmly.

"What happened?" he asks, unable to restrain himself any longer.

"I quit. For good," she adds. "They were going to fire me but I didn't give them the chance."

Thumbing her hand, he nods.

"I wanted to do so much with the job, but putting a woman and her child at risk… that's not the kind of cop I am."

"Then you did the right thing."

Beckett exhales, dropping her forehead to his arm.

"Yeah I did."

"You did," he assures, keeping his voice low.

"Take me home, Castle, and help me forget that I can't have wine right now," she says it lightly, but every syllable feels a little more forced than the one before it.

Still, he plays along. "No Remy's?"

She shakes her head, squeezing his bicep. He lifts a hand to wave to the boys, waiting until they've made it to the elevator to murmur,

"That's okay; I'll make you mac and cheese when I'm done ravishing you."