Author's Note: Apologies for not being able to post last week but now, without further ado, the next chapter, although it is a transitional chapter of sorts.
The Best-Laid Plans
Chapter 25
Kate sternly tamped down the absurd flutter of joy in her chest when her phone rang and she saw that it was Castle. Silly to be so happy to be hearing from him considering they'd been together all day and she had just seen him little more than two hours ago at the precinct and even before that, she'd spent the whole weekend including the last four straight nights at the loft with him. Today was her first time even setting foot in her apartment since she'd stopped off to shower and change and pack her small duffel bag on Saturday morning and she'd sent Castle home alone today telling him he should have some alone time with Alexis before Alexis left this coming Saturday for Princeton.
What she had not said aloud was that a little part of her had been a little… if not afraid, just oddly unsettled that morning as she'd realized just how much time she'd spent at the loft lately and more than that, how comfortable she was getting at the loft. She was becoming too accustomed to having him around, too happy. Too dependent. It just seemed so fast, too much too soon, for her to be spending all her time with Castle, at the precinct or at his home, too much as if–as if the loft really were becoming her home too, as if she were almost on the verge of moving in. Which it wasn't and she wasn't–and as if to prove it to herself, she'd decided she should return to her apartment, knowing she would be spending the night alone because, now that Martha was gone on her tour, Castle could not leave Alexis alone in order to stay over at her place.
She'd had a solitary dinner of take-out, just as usual, and tried very hard not to feel as if something was off, not right, about this whole thing. It was ridiculous anyway. She'd had a lot more dinners in her own apartment than she had ever had in the loft and there was no reason to feel as if her own apartment was too big, too empty, too quiet, without anyone else there. She was used to living alone, would have even said she preferred it just a couple weeks ago.
She was fine having an evening on her own. Really, she was. But for all that, she couldn't help the way her heart leaped when Castle called. As if he too were already missing her.
"Hey, Castle," she greeted, trying to sound casual.
"Can you run a background check on someone for me?" was his response, forgoing a greeting.
She blinked. Well, that was new. "What brought this on?"
"Alexis brought a boy home!" Castle exclaimed, his tone making this sound like a terrible event. "And she seemed surprised that I was home, as if she'd expected to be able to be alone with him!"
Kate bit back a laugh. Melodrama aside, she knew that Castle honestly worried about Alexis and then again, the Evan Hardesty case over the weekend had reminded them both forcefully of the added level of physical vulnerability any woman faced in a relationship. "You know, it's normal behavior for a teenage girl to bring a boy home and I'm sure Alexis is too smart and too sensible to actually have planned any of what you're so afraid of." Aside from anything else, Alexis would have expected Castle to be home for dinner because he always texted her if a case had come up that would prevent him from being home for dinner, unless he already knew that Alexis herself had other plans for dinner.
"Not yet," he returned rather darkly. "But he's also going to be at Princeton and she said they're going to be staying in the same dorm."
"Oh, Alexis said that she was going to be reaching out to meet some other kids in the program," she remembered.
"I know she said that but I was expecting she meant she'd be meeting other girls who are in the program, not teenage boys," Castle grumbled. "And certainly not teenage boys that she's bringing home with her."
"You knew it was a co-ed summer program," she reasoned. "Of course some of the kids she'll be meeting in the program are going to be boys."
"That's not the point," he protested. "I'm concerned about this specific boy who's way too good-looking, for one thing, and Alexis was smiling and laughing and, well, flirting with him!"
"She's a teenage girl, Castle, I think you're going to have to expect that."
"Maybe but if she's going to be flirting, then I want to know everything about this boy. I mean, what if he's some sort of serial killer?"
At that, she couldn't quite help a small laugh escaping her. "Considering he's only a teenager and one who's smart enough and motivated enough to have applied and gotten into Princeton's summer program, I highly doubt that."
"Ted Kaczynski was a genius. Being smart is not a guarantee of being a good person."
"I'm not saying it is but I have a better opinion of Alexis as a judge of character than that. And anyway," she added, "considering this boy is a teenager and a minor, you know a background check isn't going to tell you anything much."
"Have I ever told you that it's a little annoying when you're all reasonable and right?" he returned and she hadn't realized that she could hear a grimace in someone's voice. Or at least, she could with him since she could easily picture the face he'd be making.
"I'll take that as a compliment. Seriously, Castle, Alexis is a sensible girl. Don't you trust her judgment?"
He sighed. "I suppose. I mean, yes, I do, at least normally, but she is a teenager and sometimes I worry that it's inevitable that Alexis will start acting more like a normal teenager rather than the near-perfect almost-adult she normally acts like."
"She might," she conceded, "but I doubt it'll happen overnight and in the end, Alexis is a good kid and a smart one. She's growing up and you're going to have to let her spread her wings a little and trust in her judgment. And she knows that if she needs it, you're there for her."
"Why couldn't she have stayed little? It was all so much easier when she was still having tea parties with her dolls and things like that."
"Everyone grows up some time, Castle. Well, maybe not you," she added teasingly. "But you're kind of freakish like that."
She was rewarded with the sound of his laugh and felt something inside her lift at the knowledge that she had been able to ease his worries, make him smile.
"Don't knock it. It takes a lot of effort to avoid growing up," he informed her with mock gravity.
"I'm sure it does and it's clear you've devoted a lot of energy to that goal. Martha must be so proud," she drawled.
"I wouldn't say 'proud' is the word."
She had to laugh at that. "Maybe not. But you are proud of Alexis for the way she's grown up."
"Who wouldn't be proud of a kid like Alexis? It's teenage boys I worry about."
"I know but you can't exactly keep her locked up in Fort Knox to prevent her from ever meeting a teenage boy."
"Believe me, I've thought about it," he grumbled rather darkly.
"I'm pretty sure that would be illegal so don't try."
He sighed. "Yeah, I know."
He wasn't going to stop worrying about Alexis nor would she ever expect him to do so; he was too good a dad for that. All she could do was distract him. "I want to hear more about these tea parties Alexis used to have with her dolls. Were you invited?"
"I was the favorite guest at those tea parties!" he declared with feigned pride before his tone softened. "Those might have been some of my favorite times. Well, minus the strain it put on my back and knees to be hunched over sitting in chairs that were meant for kids and not grown adults," he added wryly. "But aside from that, they were such fun." He continued to reminisce about the tea parties and she listened, relaxing back on her couch, a smile playing on her lips. She could picture the scene so easily from his vivid descriptions, warmth unfurling in her chest at the mental image of a younger Castle curled into a child-size chair seated at an equally small table with a small Alexis on the other side and dolls on either side of them. Castle would have been, she was sure, very good at pretending to talk to the dolls and drink the imaginary tea. And it didn't surprise her at all to learn that Alexis had been a methodical child with an order for which of her dolls were given tea parties at any given time.
Castle's reminiscences of Alexis's childhood tea parties easily flowed into other memories from Alexis's childhood, trips to the zoo to look at the animals, teaching Alexis to swim out in the Hamptons.
It was a little while later when Castle abruptly broke off in the middle of a sentence talking about going to the Natural History Museum to look at dinosaurs to say, with a complete change of tone, "Oh, sorry, Beckett, I have to go. My agent is calling."
"Go ahead. See you tomorrow."
"Yeah, tomorrow," he agreed hurriedly before ending the call.
She smiled faintly as she looked at her phone, vaguely surprised to realize that she and Castle had been on the phone for almost an hour–and she hadn't even realized that much time had passed. It was a little amazing since she'd never been someone who particularly enjoyed long phone conversations without any particular purpose but apparently, in this too, as with most things involving Castle, he was different.
It was a little while later, after she had finished up her nightly ablutions and was propped up in bed with a book–not one of Castle's–that her phone rang again and this time, she felt a little spike of concern when she saw that it was Castle. For him to be calling a second time in one evening, and at this hour, seemed to indicate that something was wrong.
"Castle, is something wrong?" It was her turn to greet him somewhat abruptly.
"Paula wants me to go on a book tour for a month in July!"
She felt an odd mix of relief–nothing was actively wrong–and dismay at the thought of Castle's being gone for a month. "Oh. Is going on a book tour something you usually do in the summer?"
"Well, yes, sort of," he admitted grudgingly. "I do local signings throughout the year pretty much but anything out of town only happens in the summer. It depends on Alexis's schedule, obviously. That's one thing I've always insisted on. A few times I've taken her with me but I don't really like to do that because it means bringing her to book signings and exposing her to the public in a way I don't like so usually, I go on book tours when Alexis has other plans, summer camp, that sort of thing, or when my mother was available to take care of her for a week or so. And Paula heard from Gina that Alexis is going to be at Princeton so she started plotting," he finished as darkly as if Paula had started plotting a coup d'etat.
"It is sort of her job to plan publicity events though, isn't it?"
"Yes, but the point is that I don't wanna go!" He pitched his voice into a whine that would have done justice to a sulky child. He paused and went on, still sounding disgruntled but more like his usual self, "I was really looking forward to spending the whole summer with you."
And she'd been looking forward to spending the summer with him. She did not say that out loud. "I get that but book signings are part of your job too, aren't they?"
"Must you be so reasonable about this?"
She smirked a little. "What were you expecting, me to enact some Shakespearean tragedy, tearing my hair and wailing at the thought of you leaving?"
That made him laugh. "God, no, that would be awful. I get enough melodrama with my mother in my life, thank you."
"You miss Martha, admit it."
"I'm enjoying the peace and quiet."
"For now. The quiet will start to get to you soon enough," she predicted.
"You might–just might–be right. But if you ever say as much to my mother, I'll deny it."
She laughed. "Understood. Besides, Castle, I would have thought you'd love book signings, going to new cities, meeting your fans."
"I did enjoy them at first. It was nice to visit new places, some cities I'd never have gone to otherwise, but after a while, it all started to get old."
"I'm shocked," she teased. "You got tired of all the adulation?"
"Good word. And yes, surprising as it might sound, it does get boring because everyone always seems to say the same thing. I remember talking to Alexis and telling her–" he abruptly broke off and laughed.
She smiled almost in spite of herself. "What's so funny?"
"I was talking to Alexis," he continued, humor suffusing his voice, "and telling her that I was bored because everyone kept saying the same thing and I wished that just once, someone would come up to me and say something new. And that was when it happened…"
"What happened?" she prompted, trying to sound tart even as she was smiling faintly. He was such a drama queen sometimes.
"It was a pivotal moment, my entire life changing forever," he declared dramatically. "I met a woman who changed everything."
Of course it was a woman, she thought with an inward grimace, feeling an entirely unwanted little twist of something like jealousy. She trusted Castle–she did–but she did wonder sometimes because Castle had known so many women, could be with any woman he wanted, a woman who was more… open, more fun, less damaged than she was. "What did this woman do?" she asked, trying to sound casual.
"She told me that she wanted to talk to me about a murder that had just been committed."
She blinked. Wait, she remembered that. "You–you're talking about me? I changed everything? But I didn't do anything."
"Didn't you?" he countered.
"I don't see why–I mean, I arrested you a couple days later for stealing evidence but I know that wasn't your first arrest so it couldn't have been that big of a deal for you." And his prior arrest had been for stealing a police horse while naked–for the first time, it occurred to her to wonder about that because while it had been more than a decade ago, even so, it struck her now as being… unlike him. Because while he did have a reputation as a celebrity playboy and party animal, if she'd learned anything, it was that he wasn't really that man. And she couldn't quite square the man she knew as one who would have left a toddler Alexis at home so he could get drunk and steal a police horse. As Castle himself tended to say, there had to be a story there that would make it make sense.
"Funny, Beckett, no, your arresting me wasn't what changed everything," he responded dryly. "It was meeting you," he went on, his tone immediately softening, becoming sincere, "everything about you that inspired me to write Nikki Heat, made me want to start shadowing you just to learn more about you. It was just… you."
Oh, damn. How did he do this to her? She swallowed, her throat abruptly (and absurdly) feeling a little tight, as she tried to tamp down her fluttering heart. She coughed a little and managed, "Wow, Castle, you really are going for flattery, aren't you?"
As responses went, it was lame and even she had to inwardly wince a little at the way she deflected his sincerity with humor. But she didn't have his way with words, didn't really know how to just open herself up.
"Is it working?" he quipped, falling in with her humor, as usual. "I was hoping to persuade you into sneaking in, a midnight surprise?"
She was tempted. But she had already spent the last four nights at the loft, wanted to prove to herself that she could spend the night alone, could resist the temptation. "I'm a cop, Castle. You can't expect me to approve of you leaving your door unlocked," she responded instead.
He pretended to sigh. "Spoilsport. You don't want to come over, even knowing that I could be gone for a whole month in just a few weeks?"
"Speaking of your book tour, if you don't want to be away from home for a full month, couldn't you talk to Paula, negotiate it down to a shorter trip? She does work for you, after all."
"Oh believe me, I already told her that a month-long tour isn't going to happen. I told her I'd consider–just consider–going for a couple weeks, but not a full month so she'll have to rearrange things and get back to me."
Castle's tone had become firm, surprisingly business-like. It was a side of him she hadn't really seen before but come to think of it, she supposed she shouldn't be surprised. He was a smart man and he had managed his career as a writer, and a successful one at that, very well for quite some time. She wasn't an expert on the publishing industry but she imagined that the industry, much like any other, was competitive and could be cut-throat and especially for an author starting out as young as Castle had been when he'd published his first book, had its hazards, which Castle had apparently navigated with flying colors. Some of it might have been luck but no one became–and stayed–as successful and wealthy as Castle was without a good deal of acumen and work.
"How does that work, the publicity side of things, arranging book signings?"
"Paula has it down to a system now. She has a list of contacts in different cities, some through fan clubs and some direct to bookstore owners and these days, we get a lot of requests from various bookstores to come do a signing. It's easier when you're known."
She imagined that was true. There would hardly be a bookstore anywhere that wouldn't have heard of Castle's name by now. "So you can go where you want to?"
"Pretty much, yes. I like going to smaller independent bookstores when I can, supporting them, but often, it's just a lot easier to go to one of the big chain stores that have the space and more resources. Once, a couple years ago, I went to a signing at a small bookstore and they hadn't ordered enough copies of the books for all the people who showed up for the signing so towards the end, I was reduced to handing out signed sheets from a notepad while the store was taking down names and addresses and promising to have a copy of Gathering Storm shipped directly to them at a discounted price. And I promised to send each of them some merchandise from Black Pawn too."
"I imagine that made them happy," she commented. It might have even pleased those people more because from what she knew of Castle, she could only imagine that he would have gone out of his way to give a little more personal attention to those people who did not have books for him to sign to make up for the ignominy of having to give them pieces of paper instead.
"Well, there were no complaints as far as I know."
"That's something, at least. And if that's the worst thing that's ever happened at one of your book signings–"
He cut her off with a quick bark of a laugh. "It's not."
"Fee fi fo fum, I smell a story in that," she quipped. "Care to tell me?"
"Oh, where to start…" he paused and then went on to tell her a story of a book signing he'd gone to in Phoenix where a woman had shown up having apparently misread her calendar and meaning to have come to a book signing for some new nonfiction author and even after learning her error, had stayed for the apparent sole purpose of informing Castle at some length that murder mysteries such as his books were tasteless, garish examples of all that had gone wrong in society and he should be ashamed of himself for contributing to the downfall of civilization.
Kate smothered a laugh of mingled sympathy and amusement. "What did you say to her?"
"I very politely thanked her for coming and wished her a nice day before escaping as fast as I could."
"I'm impressed at your self-restraint," she teased.
"She was old enough to be my mother and about a foot shorter than I am–I wasn't about to argue with her."
"No, of course you weren't," she agreed. "Martha raised you too well for that."
"I beg of you, don't ever say that in public. I have a reputation to uphold, you know."
She grinned. "Your secret's safe with me."
"Thank you," he responded with exaggerated fervor.
He told her a couple more stories of funny things that had happened at various book signings until she realized how late it already was and told him, with surprising reluctance, that she should probably go. "But I'll see you tomorrow, though?" And then inwardly winced. She hadn't quite meant to sound so… needy.
"Of course, tomorrow. Say, Beckett?"
"Hmm?"
"Thanks."
She blinked. "For what?"
"For, well, listening, I guess."
"What else could I have done, hang up on you?" she rallied.
He gave a brief laugh. "Well, you could have."
"Nah, my parents raised me to be more polite than that," she quipped. "Night, Castle."
"Til tomorrow, Beckett."
She was smiling faintly as she put her phone down, the exchange reminding her of one they had had shortly after he'd started shadowing her, about how saying 'til tomorrow' was more hopeful–and yes, part of it was due to simply liking the knowledge that she would see him tomorrow.
Her smile slowly faded as she considered how Castle had thanked her. She remembered what Alexis had said, in asking her to look after Castle over the summer while Alexis and Martha were gone, that Castle didn't have a lot of real friends. It hardly seemed likely that someone like Castle, so gregarious, who seemed to "know a guy" everywhere–and yet, it did seem to be true. If not for her, who else would he have turned to in fretting over Alexis bringing a boy home or even just to complain about Paula trying to schedule him for a month-long book tour? She'd known him for more than a year now and as far as she knew, aside from the exception of Martha, who hardly counted, she was the only person Castle talked to about his worries over Alexis. Castle really was, in many ways, a more isolated person than she would ever have guessed.
How… odd, somehow, to think that they had that in common.
But now, they had each other.
And on that surprisingly comforting thought, she slid into sleep.
Although it could not be said that she slept very well.
Kate was tired and, even she had to admit, not in the best of moods, the next morning as she made her way into the precinct. Really, it was absurd and ridiculous to think that after only a handful of nights spent with Castle, she could have become so accustomed to his presence that even in her sleep, she seemed to seek out his warmth, his closeness, and then woke up when she didn't find it. She'd never liked too much closeness, feeling confined, in sharing a bed with anyone else but it appeared sharing a bed with Castle had… warped her brain. Or something. Not that that made any sense either. She blew out an exasperated breath.
She needed coffee.
Or rather–okay, fine, she could admit it, to herself–she needed Castle's coffee. Not even she could kid herself that even making herself a cup using Castle's espresso machine (which she wasn't very good at using, admittedly, as the machine appeared to dislike her) would do it.
Fortunately for her (and for any of her colleagues, although they all appeared to sense her mood and did not approach her), Castle arrived promptly and she felt a silly leap of her heart as she saw him. Ridiculous to think that she had missed him since she'd seen him just the day before but somehow, that was what it felt like.
"Good morning, Detective," he greeted her as he set her coffee down on her desk before her.
"Hi, Castle." She thanked him for the coffee with a small smile before taking her first much-anticipated drink.
"How was your night?"
She paused. Had he guessed that she hadn't slept well without him and was teasing, not to say gloating, about it? He couldn't have guessed, right? "It was fine," she answered blandly.
He made a small rueful face, his voice lower than usual as he responded, "Good. I don't mind admitting that I didn't have the best night. My bed seemed too big." He pulled an exaggerated sad face.
Oh, he hadn't been teasing. She bit back a pleased smile, trying to hide the ridiculous flicker of warmth in her chest at his admission. "Trying to make me take pity on you?"
"Yes. Is it working?"
"I'll think about it."
He pouted and she couldn't hide her smile.
There was a brief moment of comfortable silence as they drank their coffees and she allowed herself the break to just look at him–what, she was allowed to look and she had missed him. For all that he said he hadn't had a good night, it wasn't apparent on his face. He appeared his usual well-groomed, cheerful self, his eyes bright, seeming all the brighter because he was wearing a deep blue shirt today, one that echoed and emphasized the blue of his eyes.
He glanced at her, catching her looking at him, and his faint smile deepened. "What, do I have something on my face?"
She managed not to blush. "No." On impulse, she pushed herself to her feet. "Actually, come with me."
"Sure," he agreed readily, standing and falling into step beside her. "Where are–"
She led him quickly around to the file storage room, empty as it usually was, especially at this time of day, and stopped the rest of his question with her mouth.
He stiffened in surprise for a moment but then responded, his arms sliding around her as he slanted his head, his lips parting for the slick of her tongue.
He tasted of coffee and the now-familiar taste that was just him. She leaned into him, kissing him thoroughly, the kiss she'd missed giving him that morning, but then reluctantly drew back, reminding herself that they were still in the precinct after all.
She bit her lip. "I just wanted to do that," she said inanely.
"I missed kissing you good morning too." He bent to drop another quick kiss on her lips.
Some color crept into her cheeks but she could hardly deny it. "I mean, I did want to get some cold case files to go through but it seemed too good a chance to pass up. But we should get back to the bullpen. I doubt this is what the Captain had in mind when he said we should behave professionally in the precinct."
His lips quirked. "Well, I think you could be a professional kisser but you're right, I doubt Montgomery would think that counts."
She huffed a soft laugh. "Thanks for the endorsement but we should be getting back."
He pretended to sigh as he let his arms fall from around her waist. "While we're alone, I did want to give you something."
"What?"
He stepped back a little, reaching into the inner pocket of his light jacket and placed a keychain of R2D2–typical of Castle–attached to a single key in her hand. "It's the spare key to the loft." He waggled his brows a little. "So you can sneak in if you want to."
"You're giving me a key?" she repeated, trying to tamp down the nerves suddenly fluttering in her chest. This, too, just seemed like such a big step, so soon into their relationship.
"It just makes sense. I trust you and this way you can come and go as you please."
"I–thanks," was all she could say. Nerves aside, what could she do, give the key back? She couldn't do that, not without hurting him, and aside from that, she, well, she rather liked the idea of having a key to the loft, of being able to sneak in, as he put it.
He brightened. "Of course. Now, where are the files you wanted to get?"
She blinked, forcing herself to switch back into work mode. "Oh, right. Start with these," she directed him down the hall to another shelf and he easily hefted a stack of cold case files into his arms.
They returned to her desk with him laden down and got to work while she slipped the key to the loft onto her own keychain and tried to tell herself it was no big deal.
~To be continued…~
A/N 2: Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers.
