Castle is the copyrighted property of ABC Studios. This fiction item is intended for entertainment purposes only. No compensation has been received or will be accepted for it, and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended or should be implied.

Originally written around 2016. Edited and updated April 2022.

Sunday Morning After

Richard Castle woke to the sound of church bells reverberating through his head. He groaned out loud. Yes, today was Sunday, but was it really necessary for the bells to start this early? And to be so very loud?

Then there was movement somewhere below him, followed by a second groan, and he realized he hadn't woken up alone. Something brown reached across his vision and the church bells abruptly stopped.

Oh. They'd been a ring tone.

"Yeah." His companion's voice seemed familiar, but he couldn't place it just yet. Castle closed his eyes for a long moment, exhaling and trying to work his way through the muzziness. Just how much had he had to drink last night?

"Okay," said his companion, the word cutting his thoughts into tiny shreds. He didn't bother trying to put them back together while she continued. "I'll be there in an hour. No, I didn't say forty-five minutes. I said an hour. Some of us do things like take showers in the morning. You should try it sometime."

It hit him without warning, and oh, God. That voice was familiar, and his eyes opened again. "Lanie?"

She waved her free hand, shushing him. "One hour. That's sixty minutes, and every one of those you spend yapping at me is another minute added to that." That apparently had the desired effect, because she nodded. "All right. See you there."

After tapping the phone to end the call, she met his eyes. Hers were annoyingly clear. "Dead body."

"I gathered," he managed. "Um, I don't mean for this to sound awkward, but —"

"Do not finish that sentence if you value your back side. Actually, don't finish it even if you don't. If you can't remember last night, at least be polite enough to keep that to yourself."

The fog in his mind wasn't clearing anywhere near quickly enough, so he shook his head in an effort to speed it up. That was a mistake, as it resulted in a far-too-sharp reminder that a hangover would be coming soon. Groaning again, he let his head fall back onto the pillow.

A shift in the bed told him that Lanie had slid out of it, and he could hear cloth rustling. Forcing his eyes open one more time, he saw her pulling on clothing. "Thought you were going to take a shower."

"I'm going home first."

Oh. Right. They were in his bedroom. He blinked again, careful not to move anything besides his eyes. That was when he noticed exactly what she was putting on: the remnants of what had apparently been a rather tight-fitting costume.

The sight triggered his memory. He'd had a party last night, celebrating Halloween. Kate had come in late, with a trick costume, and he'd fallen for it in front of everyone.

But that wasn't what was most important right this second. "Why not shower here? I might be able to find something else for you to wear."

"Something of whose? Yours?"

Sitting up took far more effort than it should have. He was getting too old for this. "Alexis."

That earned him a snort and she gestured at herself, indicating her body. "As if I could even get into anything belonging to your fifteen-year-old, toothpick-shaped daughter."

"One of my shirts and a pair of her pants, then. You don't have to —"

"Castle." Her tone had sharpened, but there was no little amount of amusement in there as well. "It's bad enough I have to do the walk of shame out of your place at all. Do not wake up your family and make me do it in front of them."

"What time is it?"

She glanced at a clock. "A little after after seven."

"Then there's a good chance Alexis is already up anyway."

The amusement vanished. "Great."

He pushed the covers off his legs. "Why don't I go out there to get you something to wear, and while I'm doing it, I'll try and convince anyone else I see to go back upstairs. It's still the weekend. People are supposed to sleep in."

"You really want me to stay and take that shower, don't you? I'll be doing it alone, you know."

"I wasn't suggesting otherwise. It's just the least I can offer, after…" he trailed off. This was definitely nowhere near the top of his game. He wasn't sure he was even in the ballpark yet. "Look, there's no need to make this any more awkward than it already is. Shoving you out the door without even letting you clean up…"

She eyed him before nodding once, a brisk move, and then turning toward the bathroom. A moment later, he heard water running through the pipes.

Castle rooted around on the floor, finally managing to come up with a pair of shorts as he tried to remember how they'd ended up in here. Kate had left not too long after the incident with the puppet under her coat, and he'd been irritated at being deprived of any chance to get her back. But a couple more drinks and making a game out of the flirtatious comments he'd already been trading with Lanie improved his mood, so he'd done both willingly. After all, it had been just for fun.

As the night had worn on, though, and the drinks had gotten stronger, the silly comments had turned into faux-innocent touches, and then there had been some remarks and touches that weren't innocent at all. He'd found himself pushing her into a corner for a quick kiss that ended up not being so quick.

Then, after he'd seen what he thought was the last guest out, he'd come into his study to find her seated in his chair, feet on his desk and a feral look in her eyes.

Groaning again, he found his robe and pulled it on over the shorts, hoping Alexis had chosen to sleep in. Maybe he could find a pair of her pants in the laundry.

No such luck. She was at the breakfast bar, with her nose in a book and a plate of bacon and eggs in front of her.

He pasted on a smile. "Good morning, Sweetheart."

"Morning, Dad." She pointed at the coffee machine. "I went on and started that, since I figured you were going to need it after last night."

"Did we get that loud?" There was time for one cup before he completed his mission. He made it a strong one.

"Ear plugs are useful items to own," she informed him. "Are you hung over? The caterers took most of the food with them, but there are still a few leftovers in the fridge."

"I've been in worse shape." He stole a bite of her eggs before he continued. "Listen, ah, you know it's Sunday, right? That you don't have school today?"

She folded the book. "Of course."

"So you could go back upstairs and sleep in, if you wanted to. But, um, if you wanted to change clothes or something first —"

"Dad." She shoved the rest of the plate toward him. "Does your friend need to borrow something so she doesn't have to leave in her costume?"

"Friend?"

"In your bedroom. Or bathroom, actually. I can hear the shower running, but you're out here."

He sighed. "Yeah, okay. A pair of pants, maybe? I'll make sure you get them back."

"Won't you need a shirt, too? My pants will be a little short on Detective Beckett, but I think she and I wear the same size shirt and…" she trailed off, apparently seeing something in his expression. "Oh. It's not Detective Beckett."

"No," he answered, wondering how to explain. He'd always tried to keep the more sordid details of his dalliances away from his daughter. For the most part, he'd succeeded, though this wasn't the first time she'd been aware of an overnight visitor. It was, though, the first time the visitor was someone she knew, even if it wasn't who she'd thought.

Alexis was still watching him, he realized. "No," he repeated. It's not Detective Beckett, and I don't think that…my friend…will fit into one of your shirts, sweetheart. Just a pair of your pants."

She gave him a long, piercing look before hopping down off the stool. "Is it anyone I do know?"

"Alexis," he started, without having a clue how he would finish.

But then, thank everything, she waved him off. "On second thought, never mind. I don't think I want to know. Just wait here." She was back in a few minutes with a pair of loose sweat pants. "Make sure they're clean before I get them back." With that, she disappeared up the stairs again and he heard her door close.

Despite the pounding head that had now started in earnest, Castle found himself grinning. He really did have the best daughter in the world.

Pouring a second cup of coffee, he headed back into the bedroom, noticing that the sound of the water had stopped. Lanie was sitting on the bed, wearing her underwear and folding the rest of her costume.

"Here," he said, offering the cup.

"Not my style," she answered, "but I appreciate the thought. And the pants."

"Yeah." He headed toward his closet. "I think I have a sweatshirt that will fit you."

"Did you manage to get these without Alexis finding out?"

"No." He sighed. "But she's decided that since you're not Beckett, she doesn't want to…" Oh, hell. That was not the right thing to say on a Sunday morning after. "I'm sorry, Lanie."

To his surprise, her response was a chuckle. "Smart kid."

"What?"

"Having the sense to go for plausible deniability when it's the wrong person."

He came out of the closet holding one of his looser sweatshirts. "It wasn't like that. It's just —"

"Oh, don't even start. It was like that, and you and I both know it shouldn't have been me in that bed."

"I would never —" His face was flaming.

"Castle." Standing up, she pulled the sweatshirt over her head before going up on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his cheek. "There's no point in pretending this wasn't a one-time thing. It wouldn't have happened at all if we hadn't both been drunk and upset."

"Okay. Thank you. But it doesn't mean it wasn't —" something clicked in his mind. "Both of us upset?"

"Everyone in the world saw you after Kate left."

"What about you?"

She shook her head. "The point is that this is awkward, and the fewer people know about it, the better. Even Alexis understands that much."

"I think more of you than as someone who needs rushing out the door."

"I know. And I don't regret last night, but I'm no fool, either." She bent down to pull her shoes on; unfortunately, the only ones available were the heels she'd worn the night before. "If you and Kate could figure out how to actually talk instead of sniping at each other, it wouldn't have been me."

"Don't sell yourself short, Lanie."

"Never for a minute." She buckled a strap. "Good thing I have some boots in my office. In case you've forgotten, I need to be somewhere. That's what's rushing me out the door. Not you. Got it?"

"At least let me fix you something to eat."

"Don't worry about it. And, Castle? You might not remember, but I do. As convenient warm bodies go?" She brushed her lips against his. "Once my girl gets it together and figures out what's standing right in front of her, she'll get one hell of a reward."

It took him a second to work through that statement. "Thanks for the compliment. Door's this way."

"I know." She strode out ahead of him, through the study, and as she passed the desk a memory came back: her, standing up and approaching him slowly, mimicking the cat she'd chosen as her costume, and giving him one of the most thorough kisses he'd ever experienced. By the time it was done, they were already in the bedroom with both their clothes half off.

She was an excellent kisser. She was great at a lot of other things, too, and had proceeded to demonstrate exactly that.

He stopped her before she turned the door handle. "Lanie. You're not the only one who got a big reward last night."

Her answer was a smile, and he found himself returning it as he shut the front door behind her. This morning hadn't been fun, not exactly, but it could have been a lot worse. She was one heck of a lady.

Then part of their more recent exchange floated back into his memory. What about you? he'd asked when she'd mentioned also having been upset last night. She'd avoided the question, and he'd followed along without even realizing it.

His smile became a frown. What — or who — would dare upset Lanie badly enough that's she'd decide to go for an ill-advised one-night stand? That person didn't have a chance in hell of deserving a lady like that. Because, like Kate, she deserved the best.