8. Eight: Sunday

Eight

She wakes too early and can't get back to sleep. Seven days of Castle don't erase the last thirteen years it seems. Close, but not all.

She showers at five and takes her time, so bruised that it hurts to stand under the spray. She should really take it easier, should stop - uh - instigating so much, but when she finds him writing, when she sees him sprawled in bed and she can wake him with-

She needs time to heal, and the way they've been doing this, though fun and even necessary, it hasn't given either of them time to heal.

Today will be different.

Oh, and Alexis. Damn. She forgot. There's probably some amazing, sweet tradition that Castle built up for his daughter around this day. Mother's Day. She doesn't want to intrude, but it might be nice to not be sucked down into her own issues for once. If Alexis is okay with her here.

Kate turns off the water, steps out of the shower onto the heated tiles of his bathroom. She slides a towel off the rack and wraps her body in it gingerly. For a moment she just stands there, then she sinks down onto the floor and closes her eyes, feeling all of it.

After a few moments, she can get back to her feet, dry off, start the day.

She's just made the coffee, taken her first slow sip in front of the wide windows in his living room when a knock sounds at the door.

Startled badly, Kate sloshes coffee over her wrist, burning, and hisses as it splashes to her feet. She tiptoes back a step, biting back a curse, and places her mug on the kitchen counter, grabs a paper towel to wipe it up off the floor, her hand, and finally heads for the door.

But then she pauses, arrested in his foyer, stunned with the idea that she's about to welcome someone into his loft like-

Like-

Wait a minute. It's seven in the morning on a Sunday. Who's at the door?

Kate flips the deadbolt and wrenches the door open.

And her jaw drops.

To the woman's credit, hers does as well.

"Oh, it's you!"

Meredith comes inside with both hands at Kate's shoulders, air kisses her cheeks, bringing with her a scent of lemon and roses, and the startling self-possession that Kate hated and admired at the beginning.

"Meredith," she says slowly, turning to watch the woman make her way inside. She heads straight for the kitchen and drops her purse on the counter.

"Detective Beckett, right? I remember. Kate. I'm so glad you're up - I just hopped on a plane, spur of the moment, but when I got here I realized there was no way Rick would be up, and he took my key back like - oh, about three years ago, more's the pity, but you-" Meredith pauses to breathe and beams widely. "You. Look at you. Now I see why."

Oh shit. Kate blinks and swivels her head towards the bedroom, then the stairs. "Ah. Let me go get Castle. Rick."

She starts towards the hall, changes her mind to grab her coffee off the counter before heading back. She takes deliberate steps and tries to make her brain come up with something - anything - that sounds rational or coherent.

She's got nothing.

In the bedroom, the morning sun has barely touched the edges of the room, scattered along the floor, tentative and humble. She presses her hot mug against her chest and stares at Castle in his bed.

His ex-wife is here. His daughter's mother is out in the kitchen like she belongs here and maybe, actually, maybe she does?

Yeah, okay. This isn't that bad. She knew all this before. Deep-friend twinkie, repeat sex when the woman came back into town, but it's been a while. They are both different people. And this is too much to think about right now.

Kate sighs and sets her mug on his bedside table, then sits down at his shoulder, presses her hand to his bare back.

Oh. Oh Alexis's mom is here. That's good, right? Kate doesn't remember hearing anything about Meredith showing up for Alexis's high school graduation, and that has got to hurt, no matter what her mother might have said in excuse. So Mother's Day with her mom - oh, this is good for the girl.

"Castle," she murmurs, leaning over him to brush her lips along his slack mouth.

He doesn't even stir. It's early, yes, and they've had a crazy sleep schedule, and it's exhausting work, all this love stuff.

Kate grins and slides her fingers over his back, down his spine, flirting with the sensitive skin at the base of his-

"Ah," he gasps, jerking awake, head up to look at her for a beat. "Kate. Hi."

She hums and moves her hand up, curling at his neck so she can kiss him.

His fingers creep up into her hair and curl, keeping her there, and he sighs against her mouth. "Gotta be early. Too early," he mutters.

She untangles his fingers and sits up, nudging him a little with her knee. "Too early? I thought you said it was never too early to-"

"Stop using my words against me," he mutters. "Go back to sleep, Kate."

"Can't do that," she murmurs, combing his mussed hair with her fingers.

"Five more minutes," he sighs, his eyes already closing. "Feels good."

She gives him a moment, stroking his hair, the side of his face, brushing her thumb at the rasp along his jaw before she leans over him again and presses her mouth to that spot next to his eye where his skin is a little discolored. "Castle. Sorry to kill the mood, but your ex-wife is here."

He grunts.

"Your first ex-wife," she says, amused even as she says it.

He gasps and jerks up on his elbows, staring at her. "My what?"

"Meredith? She's in the kitchen."

"You let her in?" he says, and the panic on his face is cute. It's not because she opened the door, it's because it's Meredith on the other side of it.

Kate brushes her fingers over his mouth. "It's Mother's Day. And maybe Alexis wants to spend it with her mom?"

While she still can.

And yeah, it does linger in the room a little, it makes his eyes tender as he looks at her, pauses their moment so that everything that's happened in the last few days crystalizes around that one, terrible tragedy.

And then it's gone. Like it should be.

Kate presses another kiss to his mouth, collects her coffee mug, and stands up. "Might want to put on some clothes, naked man."

He laughs. "Why? You both have see-"

She turns back, eyebrow raised, and he stutters to a stop.

"Okay," he says quietly, acknowledging it.

There are words for this, something that wants out, fierce and strong as steel, but she can't get them out past the burn of it in her chest.

"I got it, Kate," he says, subdued but certain.

She turns and leaves him to get dressed.

Just the fact that Alexis, when she comes stumbling down the stairs at seven-thirty, looks awkward and hesitant for Kate, rather than about Kate, just that fact sets Castle's heart at ease.

It might actually be okay, given time.

"Pumpkin, looks like your mom wants to take you out today."

Alexis slides another sideways look to Kate, but she steps forward and gives her mother a hug as Meredith squeals in delight.

"Alexis, I thought we could go get breakfast down the street - our old favorite, right?" Meredith is stroking her hands through Alexis's hair, and honestly, Castle can tell that the touch and her mother's showing up this morning have actually healed something in his daughter that he didn't even know was wounded.

Kate did look at him funny when he answered her that No, Meredith didn't come to Alexis's graduation. He honestly - it's been such a long time since Alexis has let herself be hurt by her mother's flighty nature that he's stopped seeing the moments when they do still come.

"Sure, mom," Alexis says, cutting her eyes to him for silent permission.

"You guys should have fun," he says, giving her a look back. Does she need a bail out or does she need to spend the day with her mother?

Alexis relaxes into the embrace, smiles at him, and he nods.

"Alexis, is this what you're wearing?" Meredith asks, glancing down at her daughter, eyes skimming the outfit.

"Yes," Alexis says purposefully, giving her a look back. That's his girl. Knows her own mind, even against her mother. Good.

Meredith is already leading her towards the door, tossing a little wave of her hand at him over her shoulder. He follows, leaving Kate in the kitchen. Alexis turns back to him and hugs him fiercely, her kiss at his cheek.

"Thanks, Dad. It wasn't too weird for Kate?"

"She's fine," he reassures her, hugging her back harder for the question. "Promise."

Alexis steps back and Meredith leans in to kiss his cheeks as well, startling him as he realizes this is their usual routine but now there's Kate watching from the kitchen, and he's not even sure it's okay.

Meredith's fingers tighten on his shoulders as she regards him for a moment. She sighs and shakes her head. "Too bad. I always loved 'catching up' with you, Richard." She smiles that wide and irresponsible smile that used to fool him, used to make him think she was as deep-down strong and special as his mother.

"No more catching up," he says back, pushing her towards the door with a gentle nudge.

They disappear down the hall and he shuts the door after them, taking a long breath out in relief.

He startles when he feels Kate at his back, her arms around him in a hug. He lays his hands over hers, glances at her.

She's grinning. "Just you and me?"

Oh, he knows exactly what-

"Get a shower, Castle. You're taking me out."

"I am?"

"If I have to spend another day locked up in your loft, I'm gonna start gnawing off my own arm to escape."

He laughs at the look she's giving him, darts in to kiss that exasperated mouth. "You are?"

"I mean that in the nicest way possible, of course."

"Uh-huh. Cabin fever, Kate?"

"In the extreme. Now go get a shower. I want sunshine and breakfast with you and Central Park."

He turns in her arms and takes her up in a tight embrace, loving her all the more for the relative ease she seems to have had with his ex-wife, for the look on her face now - both demanding and arch and insistent.

"No, no. None of that," she murmurs, even as he kisses her softly. "Sun, Castle. Get me outside."

"Yes, ma'am."

She makes them stop at her apartment first, saying something about grabbing more clothes, when really she just wants to put on that lovely little summer dress that she bought and hasn't had a chance to wear yet.

It's a pale shade of purple, silk, with a pattern of flowers and leaves that she likes because it is so very unlike her; the dress is tight around the waist, but then it flares and stops right above her knees, the fabric so soft and airy around her thighs.

She spins once, smirks at herself in the mirror of her bedroom, and grabs her favorite pair of sunglasses - black and huge - before setting out to find Castle.

Okay, so admittedly, she bought this dress partly thinking of the look on his face. And she's not disappointed.

His eyes are a mixture of stunned and admiring and turned-on as he stares at her; she can't help swishing the skirt a little as she makes her way to him, up on tiptoes to press a kiss to that open, delicious mouth.

"Like it?" she breathes, smiling wide against his skin.

His arm comes around her waist, presses her to him, and he invests in her mouth, tongue stroking past the edges of her grin, adoration and love and yes, a healthy amount of want in it, too.

"I love it," he murmurs back, his forehead resting against hers, noses brushing.

And all her girly pride vanishes, just like that, leaves her breathless and vulnerable and in awe of this man who loves her, so much, and for so long.

She splays her fingers over his cheek, thumb caressing the corner of his mouth, and she kisses him again, soft, grateful, reverent. Castle.

"Need to stop that if you want to go outside, Kate," he whispers laughingly, but he's still holding her, not letting go, and she's glad.

She needs a moment, a minute in the strong hold of his arms to gather herself, be Kate Beckett again and not this silly, lovestruck, blushing stranger.

"You got the shoes that go with the dress?" he asks huskily against her temple, and she lifts her eyes to him, bright smile pouring out, because he knows her so well.

Knows exactly what she needs, always.

She arches a teasing eyebrow. "You're gonna love the shoes, Castle."

The taste of coffee lingers on her tongue, overruns the sweeter flavor of pancakes and Castle's kiss; Kate hums and laces their fingers together, tilts her head upwards to drink in every ray of sun.

It's a truly gorgeous day; the air sweet and warm, a light breeze that drifts through Central Park's bright green leaves, ceaselessly reorganizing the fragments of sunlight at their feet.

It's Sunday, and the park is filled with life, filled with sounds. The rhythmic thud of runners' feet; the screams of children chasing one another; the soft lullabies of mothers rocking their young ones.

And then there are pairs of lovers, couples lost in each other, their heads canted towards the other as they walk; Kate smiles to see them, and it hits her suddenly-

They're one of those. She and Castle.

Lovers.

She looks over at him and he's smiling like he knows what she's thinking, like he's feeling the same, that breathless happiness opening wide in her chest, the exhilaration that sparks in her limbs; he yanks on her hand and brings her up against him, lips finding hers, soft and smooth.

Oh, how long they've waited for this.

When he breaks the kiss, it's all thrumming inside her, all that beautiful love, the things he does for her; and she's almost there, she's going to say it, but there's movement at the edge of her vision and her attention splits, the moment breaking into pieces.

A little girl is running to the path with a freshly cut daisy; she holds it proudly up for her mother, and Kate is reminded again of what this day is, what she's missing, feels the bittersweet pang in her heart.

Oh, but Castle-

She turns to him, vibrating with it, the sharp need. "Castle, your mother."

He hums as he turns his crinkled eyes to her, so content and peaceful, like nothing can get to him today.

"What?"

Oh, but Martha is in the Hamptons, isn't she? Still.

"Have you called her?"

It wells up in Kate, makes her frantic to have him understand, have him-

He looks slightly confused, like he can't see why she's asking him that, and frustration bubbles in her chest. Come on, Castle.

"No?" he says, tentative. She gives him a pointed look.

"Mother's Day," she says finally when he can't seem to get it, when she can't bear his obtuseness anymore.

He laughs in understanding, his face relaxing, and he squeezes her hand, clearly unaware of how wound up she is inside. "Ah, that. Kate, my mother and I - we don't really have that kind of relationship. She knows I love her, and she doesn't...she's never been the Mother's Day type, you know?"

She ducks her head, trying to understand, to breathe past the lump in her chest. But it's so hard - she would give anything, anything, to have her mother to call today, and he does, and he...

Castle's fingers come under her chin, gently nudge her face up, too much knowledge shining in his blue eyes.

"Kate," he says softly.

She swallows.

"Does it matter that much to you?"

She wishes she could say no, honestly she does, but...

His hand moves to curl around her neck, his lips brushing her forehead, the tip of her nose, the corner of her mouth. "Kate, if it matters, I'll call her, okay?"

God. He's seriously going to make her cry. This is ridiculous.

She shakes her head, the word no stuck in her throat, but he's already taking his phone out of his pocket, speed-dialling Martha as he does, his spare fingers drawing soothing circles over Kate's nape, trapping her there.

And he puts them on speakerphone.

"Richard," Martha's pleased voice exclaims when she answers. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He arches his eyebrows at Kate, as if to say, see, she doesn't care, but he still goes on to say with a smile, "Just wanted to wish you a happy Mother's Day."

Martha laughs, surprised, but not displeased, Kate thinks. "Who put you up to this, kiddo?" the actress asks dryly. "I think you were in third grade the last time we celebrated Mother's Day; you made me that puny-looking paper flower."

He chuckles, shoots a look at Kate over the phone. "Kate might or might not have been the reason for my call."

Beckett feels a little cornered by that statement, shifts closer to the phone to say, "Hello, Martha."

"Kate," the older woman smiles, nothing but warmth and knowingness in her tone. "How lovely to hear from you, my dear. Richard informed me of the recent...developments." Kate blushes to think- but Castle's mother is asking in a kind, subdued voice, "How are you holding up?"

Oh. She means - the precinct. Not-

She hears Castle's laughing quietly at her right, gives him a look. He has this smug glint to his eyes; she must be blushing. "I'm fine, Martha," she tells the other woman. "I'm enjoying the time off, to be honest. There might come a day when I'll miss the precinct and the interesting cases, but I - I don't know. I'll figure it out then, I guess."

"That's always what I say," Martha's voice echoes warmly. "Never do today what you can put off until tomorrow."

Kate laughs, surprised she can laugh, surprised it just bubbles right out of her. But this is what his mother has always been able to do - keep it light, keep things moving, never dwell on the darkness.

"Mother, I'll let you go back to the pool. Or the piano. Which one is it?"

"You know me too well. Piano. But the pool sounds divine right about now. Au revoir, Richard. Thanks for thinking of me, Kate."

Kate grins, meeting his eyes over his phone as he ends the call, and that tight place eases in her chest.

"Better?" he murmurs.

She nods and shifts into the enclosure of his arms, insinuating herself right at his heart. He hugs her without prompting, loose enough that the bruises on her back don't flare up, but warm enough to feel his presence.

"Do you - Kate, do you need to go to the cemetery or - or bring her flowers or something? I don't know. What do you normally do on Mother's Day?"

"Work." She shrugs. "But no. I don't want to visit the cemetery, Castle. I've said good-bye to it. She's not there anyway."

His arms tighten briefly, his mouth at her ear, breath faltering. "Kate."

"My Dad says I look like her, act like her. I can see it on his face when we meet up for breakfast, hear it in his voice when I call him. My mom's with me, Castle, not buried under dirt and grass. Not buried under a conspiracy either."

"Oh, Kate." His mouth brushes her jaw, his forehead leans against her cheek.

She brushes her hand at his jaw, curls at his neck. "I'm done with hovering at her graveside. There's no life to be had standing at her grave."

"Kate," he sighs, his hands coming up to cup her cheeks, his mouth brushing against hers, relief and pleasure.

She wraps her fingers around his wrists and holds him there just a moment more before stepping back.

"Let's find some swings, Castle. I want to go high. I want to touch the trees with my toes."

The corners of his mouth twist up, the warmth lighting up his eyes. "In that dress? You're gonna flash all the kids."

"Or just you," she grins back, reaching out to trail her finger down his chest, then stepping past him and moving towards the playground. She turns to look over her shoulder at him, eyebrow raised. "You coming, Castle?"

"Every time."