Disclaimer: The only part of Castle that I own is the TV on which I watch the show.

A/N This is part one of a two-part chapter.

Beckett really, really, really doesn't want to get out of bed, and technically she doesn't have to because she has the day off. She had gotten home so late after a case and she feels as if she has hardly slept. She picks up her phone, looking at it through half an eye, to check the time. How can it be 10 o'clock in the morning? She's really been out cold for nine hours? She doesn't even remember having gotten up to pee during the night. First time that's happened in at least a month. "Good baby," she mumbles, patting her stomach.

"Plus One, Mom. I'm sticking with that until you and Dad come up with something better. Which so far you haven't."

Maybe she can doze for a few more minutes. Castle is in Boston for 24 hours for a mystery fans convention. If he were here, he'd bring her some mint tea. If he were here, he'd draw her a bath and make her breakfast. If he were here—what the hell? A crash from the kitchen shoots her out of bed. She knows that Alexis and Martha are in Chicago for three days; has Castle come back early? No, because he'd have come straight to their bedroom. There's no time to call the doorman, so she tiptoes to the closet, opens the safe and gets her gun. It's terrifyingly quiet in the kitchen now; where did whoever it is go? Despite her racing pulse, she flashes on the second bulletproof vest that Castle had bought her a few months ago. It's here, in the closet. Working quickly and quietly, she pulls it from the pouch and slips it on over her sleep shirt. POLICEMOM.

She opens the door, never so appreciative as she is now of the wildly expensive hardware that eliminate squeaks or creaks, and steals into the office. From here she'll be able to get a good look into the open-plan part of the loft, and still be able to stay more or less out of sight. Holding the gun in her right hand and cradling her arm with her left, she peeks out. What the hell? "Meredith?"

Yes, there she is, the (first) ex-wife, the red-headed menace. She's dressed to the teeth and, in a startling display of domesticity, is setting the table. For eight. "Oh, hello, Kate," she says with what might be an authentic smile. Or not. Fifty-fifty. No, more like forty-sixty. "Why on earth are you holding a gun?" Make that thirty-seventy.

Beckett looks down at her weapon, and drops her arms to her side. "Uh, because I'm alone here?"

"Excuse me, Mom! You're not alone. What about me?"

"You scared me half to death, Meredith. I thought you were an intruder."

Another smile, this one definitely not the genuine article. "I used to live here, you know, so I'd hardly think of me as an intruder."

If it weren't for the fact that Beckett didn't want to leave her unborn child fatherless, she'd kill Castle. Were it not for their spectacular sex life, she'd at least shoot him in the balls. She takes a calming breath and asks brightly, "Does Castle know that you're here?"

"Oh, no, I wanted this to be a surprise and you know that Richard can't keep his mouth shut. Gina told me he'd be out of town today, so we put our heads together and decided that this would be the perfect day. And we both still have keys, so there was no problem getting in without your knowing."

Beckett wonders if her eyes look as wild as they feel. "Gina?"

"Yes. My co-hostess."

"Surprise?" she asks feebly.

Meredith, having finished setting the table, steps over to the kitchen counter and returns with a large, elaborate centerpiece of green orchids. "This is just the beginning of the surprise, Kate!" She looks her over from bed head to bare feet, and though she doesn't mention the POLICEMOM vest, her horror is evident. "Why don't you go get dressed, dear," she suggests, waving her hand dismissively. "The caterers and Gina will be here any minute and all the brunch guests right after that."

"Who's Meredith, Mom? She must be really nice if she's making us brunch. Did you know it's my favorite meal?"

"Oh. Brunch. Right. I'll go put, uh, something else on. Back in a minute. A few minutes." She turns and tries to walk rather than stagger back to the bedroom, where she tears off the vest and her shirt and locks her gun in the safe. Ducking into the bathroom, she shuts the door and phones Castle. Shit, it goes straight to voicemail. "Call me now, Castle. Immediately. This is a crisis." Grateful that she had taken a shower at bedtime, she washes her face and brushes her teeth while thinking about what to wear. She brushes her hair, puts on some light makeup and checks her cell; four minutes, and he still hasn't phoned. She tries him again. "Castle, I'm not kidding. This is an emergency. I don't care what you're doing, call me."

Back in the bedroom closet, she picks out a pair of silk pants, a beautifully draped top and a pair of sandals. She'd love to wear killer heels if she's going to face off with Meredith and Gina, but she can't. She's too wobbly at the moment. She hears voices in the kitchen, so the caterers must be here. Or maybe the yet-to-be-revealed guests. Five of them. There's still no call from Castle, ten minutes on. She sends a text: "This is life or death. Seriously. Your death." Tucking the phone in her pocket, she murmurs, "God, help me," and heads into the unknown.

When she gets to the living room, she hears a smattering of applause. Oh, this is so, so much worse than she had thought. The cold hand of reality check is the only thing that keeps her from fleeing. It's them. Seven women who had, or wished they had had, Richard Castle before she did. There are the twin sharks, Meredith and Gina. There are Ellie Monroe, that little slut who had sex with Castle so that he'd recommend her for the movie version of Heat Wave, and Natalie Rhodes, who actually did get the part and had shadowed Beckett for her research. She had wanted to sleep with Castle, but he had turned her down. A star in his crown, Beckett admits. Natalie has on the wig that was modeled on Beckett's hair, and is dressed in maternity clothes, complete with a fake baby bump. And then there's Jacinda, whose last name she doesn't even know. The trampy flight attendant whom Castle had thrown in her face and had even let drive his Ferrari. She has on a uniform; what kind of an airline allows a skirt that short? Hookers Aloft? You can nearly see her hoo-hah, for God's sake. And right next to her? Kristina Coterra, the skanky interviewer from WHNY TV who had shoved her boobs in Castle's face and is wearing exactly what she had then, a bikini. Really, a bikini to brunch? Although, Beckett thinks—as much as she is capable of thought in these circumstances—the sartorial choice is insignificant in the general scheme of things here. Where is number seven? Aha, there she is, smiling as she pops out from behind Meredith. It's Kyra Blaine, Castle's first true love, officially known as the One Who Got Away. In a wedding dress. Maybe the bikini wasn't such a weird sartorial choice after all.

"Surprise!" they shout, as one.

Beckett, who wonders if she has been shot in the neck by some kind of poison dart that freezes the central nervous system, stands motionless and mute. "I need a drink," she says.

"Mom, you can't have a drink while I'm in here. I'm not old enough to drink."

"Now, Kate," Gina says in a voice that could etch titanium. "We know you can't join us for Champagne, despite this festive occasion, but we have a nice glass of iced green tea for you. With a wedge of lime."

"Ugh, boring. Could you ask her for a milkshake? That's good for brunch."

"Why don't you come sit down, Detective," Natalie Rhodes says. "You must be so uncomfortable standing. I know I am and my belly is just made of foam rubber." She guffaws as she pokes her ersatz outie bellybutton. "You're the guest of honor, so you have to sit at the head of the table," she says, grabbing Beckett by the elbow and propelling her to her seat.

"You'll have to forgive us for rushing you," Kristina says, "but we're all very, very busy women."

"We hope you'll like the menu," Jacinda says. "We're starting with spinach salad."

"Oh." That's all that Beckett can rise to at the moment.

"And then we're having omelets—green eggs with ham."

"Green Eggs and Ham is my favorite book! Dad reads it to me all the time. This will be like eating the story, Mom!"

"How do you like our theme, Kate?" Kyra asks, tossing her bridal veil over one shoulder. "It's called Green with Envy! Not us, you. You were green with envy over all of us. We know you were, even if you aren't now. We saw you! It's like our very own little trip down memory lane."

The only green that Beckett is feeling is around the gills. "Please excuse me for just a moment," she says, pushing her chair away from the table. "I just remembered that I have an urgent, urgent text to send. I'll be right back."

She goes to the bedroom, shuts the door and takes out her phone to call Castle. Still voicemail. "Castle? You have to come home this minute. Your septet of significant others is here, in our loft. The seven sisters of ex. Everyone from Kira to that Kristina person. Making me eat brunch. It is a chamber of horrors. I mean it, it's a fucking nightmare."

Part 2 tomorrow….