Thanks to Ally for giving this a once-over, and to Jo for the pretty new cover art!
Previously:
"Rick," Kate says as she steps between them, "allow me to introduce you to Johanna Alexandra Beckett-our daughter."
His head snaps to Kate in shock, his hand still in Jo's. He opens his mouth, a million words flooding his mind, but he can't settle on anything. Kate seems to register the importance, and she simply nods to him, her eyes falling to the floor as her cheeks flush.
"Uh, I hate to break up the moment here, but did I miss something?"
Jo's slightly annoyed voice brings his attention back to her, and he takes back his hand, muttering a sorry for the sweaty and awkward handshake.
"Thanks," she says again, shaking her hand in the air and wiping it down her pant leg. "Seriously though, what did I miss?" She asks again, her eyes going back and forth between him and Kate.
"Uh...I…"
"I called you our daughter," Kate says, saving him from yet another stumbling response. He's appreciative, but at the same time annoyed for her decision to not tell Jo the truth. He makes a mental note to confront her about it-later.
The three of them are quite the site, standing in between the living room and the dining room, trying to navigate their way through this unchartered territory. They are saved by a buzzer going off in the kitchen, and Kate ushers Jo after her, Rick following them.
"I forgot I had these," he remembers as they reach the kitchen, and he holds out the bouquet of flowers.
"You didn't have to do that," Kate says as she reaches for them, but he pulls them back slightly.
"Sorry," he says, hoping that the apology he verbalizes is also visible in his expression. "They're for Jo."
Kate's outstretched hand retreats, and while part of him is sorry for embarrassing her like that, the part of him that is still hurt and angry with her for not once contacting him until it was absolutely unavoidable.
Jo jumps in and takes the flowers, mutters a soft thank you as she turns away and finds a vase for them before she situates them on the table.
When they all finally sit down at the table for dinner, he's not the only one who has lost all ability to talk. Kate and Jo are both paying way too much attention to the food on their plates-they're readjusting the potatoes almost exactly the same way-and Rick feels like he needs to do something soon to get the conversation going or his chance to be involved in Jo's life might be lost forever.
"Jo, your mom tells me you work for the school newspaper."
"Yeah," she says as she looks up at him. "New editor, actually. The previous editor graduated at semester, so I stepped in. It's been stressful."
"In what way?"
"Most of the people who are involved, they get an assignment and think they can just turn it in whenever they feel like it. They don't understand all the work that takes place once their work is done to get the final product out to the student body. Mom, how long do you think I was working on layout the other night?"
Kate looks up from her plate and ponders the question for a moment. "Just layout? I'd say three hours at least, but I don't know how long you were working on it before I got home from the precinct. And that's not counting the couple hours you spent editing that night, too."
"That was a long night."
"I finally had to hide the laptop and make you study for your chemistry test. Speaking of, has that test been posted yet? I haven't had a chance to check the online grade book lately."
Rick sits back in his chair, enjoying this moment between mother and daughter. He's already learned so much about both of them from their conversation, even if it has veered off in a direction he didn't expect. Jo avoids her schoolwork sometimes when she's focused on completing a task, most likely one she's more interested in. And despite Kate's busy and undoubtedly dangerous job, she still finds time to stay up to date on her daughter's schedule to the extent of checking Jo's grades online.
And they've done all this without him.
The thought fights its way to the surface in the middle of what has been interesting dinner conversation despite the initial awkwardness, and he knows he should suppress it, at least for now. He forces himself to keep paying attention to their exchange, looking for a way in.
"I just don't see how chemistry is going to matter, Mom," Jo says, and he holds out his hand to stop Kate from responding immediately.
"Not looking into a career as a chemist, I take it?"
"No, I want to be an investigative journalist." She says the words with confidence, not even a speck of uncertainty in her voice. He knows he has nothing to do with it, but she's much like him when he was her age. He knew very early on he wanted to be a writer and never wavered from that goal.
"Ah, the young Lois Lane. The intrepid reporter out to right the wrongs of society." The smile is blooming across his face, and he doesn't miss Kate's smile across the table. He didn't realize how much he missed that smile until it was there staring back at him.
"Like Lois Lane, yes," Jo tells him. "But not so much because of society's wrongs. Quite the opposite, really. I think there's enough negativity in the world already. Someone needs to investigate and highlight what's right about the world."
He has an amazing daughter. Actually, he has two amazing daughters. But he's just learning about how amazing Jo is, and the realization throws him.
Jo, why don't you take Rick into the living room while I clear off the dishes?" Kate suggests, again bringing him out of his contemplation. He stands and follows Jo into the adjoining room, hearing Kate's voice again from the kitchen, "Coffee, anyone?"
He agrees to a cup, as does Jo, causing him to chuckle as they sit across from each other.
"Something funny?"
"You're a coffee drinker."
"Yeah, so?"
She looks annoyed with him for not explaining beyond stating the obvious, so he decides to humor her. "Kate-your mom-was well on her way to being a coffee junkie at Stanford. I think she would have hooked up an IV during finals if she could have."
"For as long as I can remember," Jo tells him as she relaxes back into the couch, "she's had a cup in her hand every morning when she comes in to wake me up for school. Though, sometimes she has to set it down to force me out of bed."
"Did Rick tell you that his coffee-drinking habit was just as bad as mine, if not worse?" Kate asks Jo, walking into the living room carrying a tray that holds a carafe and three mugs. She sits in the chair opposite Jo, and pours them each a cup.
"Hey, now. You didn't seem to mind the handful of times I smuggled coffee into the library so you could keep studying."
Kate smiles and looks into her mug, and Rick thinks she may be choosing her words. When she speaks a moment later, he holds his breath.
"I had to give it up while I was pregnant with Jo, if it makes you feel any better. Just the smell made me nauseous."
"Was it bad? The sickness?" he asks her, curious about the pregnancy he wasn't allowed to be a part of. He should be mad. Hell, he is mad at her for what she did, but he's also sitting in Kate's living room having dinner with their daughter.
"I didn't have the usual morning sickness, but coffee was definitely one of those foods I couldn't have. Mostly I was exhausted, physically and mentally."
He wants to plead with her that he could have helped, could have been there for her and helped her through everything that was happening to her all at once. But he doesn't want to do that in front of Jo, knowing that it would most likely end in an argument.
Over the course of their cup of coffee, he learns that Jo goes camping with Jim Beckett for two weeks every summer, a tradition they started when she was nine. The three of them usually spend Christmas at the Beckett family cabin as long as the weather isn't too horrible. Most surprising to him is that Kate cooks dinner at least three times a week, depending on her caseload at the precinct. "You were the ramen queen!" he protested, much to the pleasure of Jo.
When he downs the last of his coffee, he looks at his watch and sees how late it is. He jumps up, taking his own cup to the kitchen.
"Sorry, but I have to go. I'd like to be home when Alexis and Mother get back from the theatre."
Time got away from him, he was enjoying himself so much. He was enjoying getting to know Jo, and by extension, he was learning about what it was like for Kate while she was pregnant. He's angry about that, the knowledge that he was oblivious to everything she was going through during that time gnawing at him. But that same knowledge is helping him, because at least now he knows what happened. He still doesn't like it, but that time period isn't a blank space for him anymore.
In his haste to get back home, he almost runs into Jo as he turns the corner exiting the kitchen that leads to the front door. She's hugging him like she would her favorite stuffed animal, and he doesn't waste any time returning it. He had minimal expectations coming here, not sure how Jo would feel about her father finally waltzing into her life. But this show of affection from her gives him hope that, even though they've missed out on so much, there's still hope for the future.
"Alexis...that's your daughter-I mean, you other daughter, right?"
He opens his mouth to answer, and his eyes find Kate watching their exchange in the background. He hates that she can tell he's asking permission, hates that he has to ask permission in the first place, but it's there.
"Yes, Alexis. She's thirteen."
"Does she know about me?" Jo asks nervously.
He checks Kate in the background again, sees that she's paying close attention to his answer, before he confesses. "No, she doesn't. Not yet. I was nervous about tonight, so I wanted to wait and see how this went."
Jo nods and lets him pass toward the door, opening it for him as he grabs his jacket. "But I can meet her soon?"
She's nothing like the confident young adult he saw an hour ago, the one who knows exactly what she wants to do with her life and screams leader.
"Absolutely," he assures her with a pat to her shoulder, "You can come over for dinner some time soon. I'll make sure Mother-your grandma-doesn't do the cooking."
"Thanks, Mr. Castle."
He was almost out the door when she said it. He'd already turned around, was ready to walk out the door when she referred to him in such a formal manner. On one hand, he had to applaud her manners. But, she also needed to know that he wasn't just some acquaintance that showed up on Christmas and her birthday.
"Listen, Jo, I know I haven't earned the right to be your dad yet. I'm your father, yes, but I'm not your dad. I hope we get to that point sometime in the future, but until we get there, you can call me Rick."
Jo simply nods, and he smiles back at her, happy for the progress they've made in such a short amount of time. He glances up at Kate, who has been watching them interact this whole time, and she's looking guilty, like she's about to burst their happy little bubble."
"Castle, can I have a word before you go?"
She steps forward and follows him out the door, shutting the door behind them and leaving Jo alone in the apartment.
"You haven't told Alexis yet?" Kate whispers.
"You heard me tell Jo that I hadn't," he whispers back, aware of the fact that Jo is most likely doing her best to hear every word of the hushed conversation.
"Rick, you need to tell her. She deserves to know."
"You're fucking kidding me," he lashes out, immediately losing his cool. So much for not arguing in front of the kids. "You have absolutely no right to talk to me about this. I've waited one week to tell Alexis she has an older sister. You, on the other hand, waited sixteen years to tell me about Jo! I fail to see how you're an expert advice-giver in this situation."
"I beat myself up every day-every damn day-for the decisions I made. I think about what life would be like if Mom hadn't been killed almost every day. I think about us-if we'd be married, if we'd have more kids, if we'd be living here or California or somewhere else completely."
"Kate," he says, not sure how else to respond. He's thought about those same things, too. But if Kate hadn't disappeared, he probably wouldn't have Alexis. And he can't imagine his life without her.
"She's hearing all of this, isn't she?" she says with a soft voice, the anger dissipating for now. Rick simply nods, resigned to the fact that their daughters are undoubtedly going to hear them coming to terms with their situation, and that it will sometimes be ugly.
Kate runs her hands over her face and runs her fingers through her hair. "I hate this."
"I hate to keep bringing this up, but you brought 'this' upon yourself."
"I'm glad I can rely on you to remind me of these things."
"Always," he says, and both their eyes go wide. The eye contact is brief before they both look away. The word meant something for them once, and he doesn't know why he suddenly felt inclined to use it again, especially considering they were arguing but a couple minutes ago. "I...I should go," he finally says, still not able to meet her eyes after his slip.
"Yeah. If you don't mind, I'll give Jo your number. You shouldn't have to use me as a go-between."
"I don't mind."
There's another awkward moment of silence between them, and he has this compulsion to apologize for something, though he's not exactly sure what. But he hasn't done anything wrong, he remembers, so he turns and starts down the hallway.
"Goodnight, Kate."