Chapter 2

Dr Burke smiled at the two small children. They were really quite interesting already: bright eyed and engaged with the new environment; small copies of their parents – Petra already completely her mother, down to the sceptical expression which sat strangely on her child's face; David a small image of his father: the indications that he would grow into a tall, broad man already there.

David smiled back at Dr Burke, and, pleasingly, toddled back to where he sat on a low couch, designed to put him closer to the children's level without further stressing his slightly damaged knee – a tennis injury, sustained some months ago but not yet fully healed.

"I David," he chirped. "Who you?"

"He doc'or," Petra interjected decidedly. "Doc'ors nasty. Shots! Hate shots."

"I do not give shots," Dr Burke noted. Petra's piercing gaze turned to him.

"No shots?"

"No. Do you wish to see? I have no needles in this office."

"Show me," she demanded.

"Petra," Detective Beckett said meaningfully.

"P'ease show me," she corrected. It was evident that parental discipline was not lacking, even from that short interchange. Dr Burke discounted the possibility that the twins were merely atrociously spoilt. It had been a possible theory, given that – Dr Burke was perfectly well aware of Mr Castle's wealth and fame – the family was exceedingly well-off.

"Come to my desk, and I shall show you."

Petra walked over. Dr Burke opened each drawer in turn. "Are you content that there are no needles?"

"Yes." There was a cough from Mr Castle. "Thank'oo."

Ah. Both parents supplied discipline. The child Petra was regarding him with a disconcertingly intelligent stare, however.

"Why we here?"

"So that I can see how you and David play."

"Play!" David yelled.

"Inside voice," Detective Beckett said rather wearily.

"Play?" Petra asked.

"Yes, you may play. Would you like some toys?"

"P'ease," said both twins.

Dr Burke supplied a selection of age appropriate, but varied, toys, and shortly wished that his hearing was not quite as acute as it remained.

It was, observing the twins, very apparent that Petra was the dominant force. David, however, was not entirely receptive to her dominating tendencies. Still, for siblings of that age, their close bond was also apparent. Dr Burke, so far, had seen absolutely nothing to indicate that there were any matters for concern.

The children continued to play. Shortly, Petra came up to Dr Burke, and favoured him with a limpid look.

"You like cats?" she asked. As it happened, Dr Burke did like cats. He had had a number of cats in the past, although none presently adorned his home.

"Yes," he said, and awaited developments. It seemed that he was about to experience the imaginative play to which the adults had referred. Strangely, Petra gave her parents a permission-seeking glance before she continued. Surely a fiction writer was not circumscribing his children's imaginative play, or allowing his wife to do so? That would be highly worrying.

"I a cat," she said.

"Really?"

"Yes. Black cat. David too."

"Me too!" bounced David, hearing his name.

"Are you? What do you do when you're a cat?"

"Play. David chases tails."

"What do you play?"

"Mommy play mouse."

"Mouse?" Dr Burke could not imagine the tall, elegant Detective Beckett pretending to be a mouse.

"Mouse on stick."

"Oh, a puppet mouse."

Petra glared at him, as if he were unintelligent. "Yes. Chase mouse."

"What do you do when you catch the mouse?"

"Pounce. It deaded," Petra said with enormous satisfaction. Dr Burke blinked. "Cat kill mouse."

"Cats do eat mice."

"Not eat. Not real mouse. Toy mouse." Having corrected Dr Burke, she looked around. "You got mouse?"

"No. I do not have mice in my office."

Petra regarded him with disappointment. Dr Burke experienced the unpleasant sensation of being judged and found wanting.

"Mommy eat squirrel," David said. "Daddy said."

Dr Burke flicked a glance at his patients' parents, expecting resigned amusement. He was astonished to see them blushing fiercely.

Petra recalled his attention by tugging at his hand. "Mommy an' Daddy cats too. An' panth'rs."

"Panthers?"

"Big black cats," Petra explained in a particularly condescending tone. "Me too."

Dr Burke managed, with some difficulty, not to tell Petra that he knew exactly what a panther was.

"Not let be panther 'cept at home an' cabin," David added.

"Oh? What do you do as a panther?"

"Chase deer. Daddy caught it."

"Deer deaded. We ate it. Yum."

Dr Burke's eyebrows rose.

"Daddy pounce."

"Mommy pounce too," Petra said crossly. "Girls better."

"Are not!"

"Are!"

"Neither is better," Dr Burke said firmly. "Now, tell me more about being cats."

"Cats only at home."

"An' at night at playpark."

"Yes. An' the indoor play."

"Lele play too."

"An' Ry'n."

"Lele!"

"Who are Lele and Ryan?" Dr Burke enquired.

"Detectives O'Leary and Ryan."

"I see." He turned back to the twins, who were – good gracious. They were actually snarling at each other. The daycare centre's concerns did seem to have some validity. "Are 'Lele' and Ryan cats too?"

"No. Silly doc'or. Only us. We the only cats. Mommy said so."

"You a cat?" David asked, presumably to confirm his mother's statement.

"No," Dr Burke said.

"Poor doc'or." Dr Burke found himself regarded with pity, and further found that he disliked that sensation. "No tail." He resisted the urge to visit the restroom. He was perfectly certain that he did not have a tail, but the twins' imaginations were really quite persuasive.

"When do you play cats?"

"Not play. Are cats."

"People do not change into cats."

"Do! We do."

Petra's otherwise pretty face was indicating an imminent tantrum. Dr Burke was, now, slightly concerned. She was indeed overly invested in her cat game. Perhaps there was an issue here.

"Dr Burke," Mr Castle interrupted, "would you please confirm to us that everything within this office will be kept entirely confidential and you won't put anything in writing unless we authorise it?"

Dr Burke's eyebrows flew up. "Are you questioning my professionalism?" he asked incredulously. That would be insupportable.

"No, I'm asking for your confirmation that the next few moments will not be recorded in any way."

Dr Burke regarded Mr Castle with astonishment. It appeared that Mr Castle was himself suffering from a paranoid disorder.

"Please confirm," Detective Beckett rapped out.

"Certainly," Dr Burke said coldly. "I will make no notes whatsoever. You may check, before you leave. I expect that will not be long delayed."

Detective Beckett ignored him. "Petra, David," she said. "This friend is like O'Leary. You're allowed to change."

Dr Burke entirely failed to understand that comment.

"Like Lele?"

"Yes."

Petra scowled. David smiled. "He not Lele," she said crossly. "Not like him."

"Like," said David, who liked everyone. "Play."

"If you wish," said Dr Burke very coldly indeed.

"Petra play too." David tugged at his sister.

"No!" she said. "Not play. Don' like him."

"I play." David turned to Dr Burke.

"What in the world!"

Dr Burke found a black kitten in his lap, patting at him. He stared at it. He then stared around the room. It still appeared to be his soothing, well-appointed office. It still contained himself, the Castle adults, and a very sulky Petra. It did not, apparently, still contain the child David. Instead, it contained a small black kitten, presently purring in his lap, and notably perfectly comfortable.

"What have you done with your son?" he asked.

"He's sitting on your lap."

"That is ridiculous. I do not know how you achieved this trick, but it is not funny."

Dr Burke noticed that his hands were petting the kitten, and stopped. It mewed pathetically at him. He noticed that it had blue eyes, as David had had.

"Not fair!" Petra howled. Dr Burke's eyes widened to saucer-sized proportions as she disappeared and a second small black kitten appeared in her place, which scampered across his costly carpet and jumped into his lap. This cat had green eyes. It, too, mewed at him, much more demandingly. He petted them both. However the trick had been performed, the kittens did not deserve to suffer in any way. They settled down, and purred babyishly.

"I cannot say I am impressed by your practical joke."

"I'm afraid it's not a joke."

"Please do not continue this ridiculous charade. Should any footage appear publicly, I shall not hesitate to sue."

He looked at his lap, the contents of which were growling.

"What in heaven's name are those?"

"Those would be the twins."

Dr Burke's legendary composure shattered. "Those are not your twins. Those are two kittens" –

"Guess again."

He looked down again. "Cats."

"Actually, panther cubs. And yes, they are the twins. So were the kittens. We have a slight...er...genetic issue."

The animals spilled out of Dr Burke's lap and marauded around his desk. He was so irritated that he failed to notice the small holes in his dress pants where their claws had pierced the fabric.

"Cease this ridiculous behaviour at once. It is perfectly clear why you were referred to me: you are suffering from a disgraceful degree of delusion supported by practical joking. I shall not be treating any of you – what is that?"

A full-sized panther had appeared in place of Mr Castle. Detective Beckett remained present.

"Dr Burke," she said sharply, "you need to open your mind. You may not want to believe it – God knows, nobody else did – but we are real." She ruffled the fur of the panther, who rumbled at her. "Maybe we shouldn't have sprung it on you like that, but can you honestly say you'd have believed us if we'd tried to tell you without actually showing you?"

Dr Burke made an incomprehensible noise, which normally he would have deprecated. In the circumstances, he found it entirely reasonable.

"We are real. This" – she stroked the panther's head. Dr Burke noticed very particularly, through his anger, that it had bright blue eyes, regarding him with considerable amusement. It coughed, as if it were laughing – "is Castle." The panther yawned, revealing gleaming teeth. "Those are the twins." She paused. "Petra, David, come here." The cubs bounced round the desk, spotted the adult panther and proceeded to bat at it, try to pull its tail, pounce on it, and, in Dr Burke's presently exceedingly jaundiced opinion, behaved in a way that should have had all three animals removed to a zoo.

"What, precisely, are you expecting of me? To assist you in perpetuating your delusions by noting that this is not a practical joke? I shall not do so."

The adult panther prowled across the room, shaking off the two cubs. It stopped in front of Dr Burke, examined him, shivered, and became Mr Castle. The two cubs growled, and also became the twins.

"He not nice," David wailed, at jet-fighter volume. "You said he a friend. Not friend. Not nice."

"Not like Lele. Want Lele. Not want him. Nasty man." Petra was less loud, but no less forceful.

Dr Burke found himself made to feel guilty, which was yet another emotion that he did not appreciate. Mr Castle squatted down and gathered up his squalling children, which did not reduce the extent or volume of their misery. Detective Beckett sent one scorching glance around his treatment room, spotted the box of Kleenex, and removed two.

"Blow," she said firmly to David, and then repeated the operation with Petra.

"Not like him," they wailed at her.

"Shhhh." Detective Beckett took possession of Petra. The physical similarities were really most marked.

"Mommy be cat," Petra whimpered. "Want cats."

Detective Beckett calmly took possession of one of Dr Burke's luxurious armchairs, and patted her weeping infant. "You be a cat, then."

"Mommy too!"

"In a moment. You go first."

Under Dr Burke's increasingly astounded eyes, Petra was again replaced by a small black kitten. Regrettably, she remained equally miserable, expressing it in a painfully persistent and high-pitched mew which assaulted his ears.

He could not believe that these events were real. He was a man of profound learning and top-class reputation, who had never been confounded by even the most complex of cases. However, the matter which had arrived in his treatment room was one, he was absolutely convinced, which no psychiatrist had ever seen before. Detective Beckett continued to pet her kitten.

"It's a bit hard to accept," she said, with only marginal sympathy. In the background, Dr Burke could faintly see Mr Castle consoling his dejected son. The volume of misery was, thankfully, decreasing, though it was still punctuated by all-too-frequent repetitions of he nasty. "But we're real. No doubt you would prefer that we weren't."

Dr Burke stared at her, wordless. He had never been left wordless in his life, and he did not appreciate the sensation. In fact, he had not appreciated any of the new experiences to which he had been introduced in the last two hours.

He paused. Surely, as New York's pre-eminent psychiatrist, he should embrace new experiences? He reflected upon his behaviour in the time in which the Castles had been present.

"I find it difficult to accept," he said. "However, failing any other explanation, I must believe my own eyes. Please show me once more."

"Your turn," Mr Castle said. Detective Beckett stood up, to the audible distress of her daughter.

"Watch closely," she said. Dr Burke complied. There was a certain note to her voice which indicated that non-compliance would be unwise. He fixed his eyes upon her. A mere instant later Detective Beckett was gone and a slim, elegant, pure black Siamese had taken her place. The cat shivered, and became a still-slim, still elegant, but very dangerous-looking pure black panther. Dr Burke had to work extremely hard to control his reaction.

"Mommy panth'r!" David squeaked. "Down, Daddy!" He wriggled, and suddenly a small black streak flashed past Dr Burke and pounced on Detective Beckett – Dr Burke had decided that, difficult as it was, he had to accept that there were indeed four shapeshifters present in his office.

Detective Beckett growled, and for a moment everything stopped: even David's bounce. Dr Burke watched with some interest as David turned over and exposed his throat and stomach. Detective Beckett nipped him lightly, and then stepped back and changed to human again.

"Are you satisfied?"

"I believe that I have to be," Dr Burke said faintly. "But" – he recovered a small amount of composure – "since there is clearly no issue with the twins' imaginative play, why on earth are you here?"

"Because," Detective Beckett snapped, "the alternative was telling the daycare centre the truth. Unlike you, they are not bound by medical confidentiality."

"I see. Indeed." He steepled his fingers, and found that a blue-eyed kitten was endeavouring to climb his leg. He collected it, and noted with disfavour the small holes in the fine fabric. "In other words, you are using me in order to tell the daycare centre that you have taken their advice, so that they do not enquire further."

"Yes," Mr Castle said, with no hint of contrition.

"I see." Dr Burke did not approve at all.

"Are you suggesting we should have approached a less reputable person?" Detective Beckett asked, with an acid edge to her voice. "You have more to lose than we do."

Dr Burke regarded her, horrified, and failed to notice that he was petting David. "Are you suggesting that" –

"I'm merely pointing out that your professional reputation wouldn't survive a leak."

"And you'd be the one who looked crazy," Mr Castle added, which was quite unnecessary, as Dr Burke had already assessed all the implications of their choice. He did not appreciate any of those implications.

"You have thought this through," he said coldly.

"Yep."

"How very intelligent." He did not mean it as a compliment.

"We're not dumb either."

"I have become aware of that."

"Not dumb," Petra had become a child again.

"Shush."

"He dumb. We cats!"

"Petra, say sorry. That was very rude."

"He not b'lieve it."

"Petra," her mother said firmly. Petra scowled.

"So'y." She turned into a cub and curled up, evidently sulking.

Dr Burke restrained a squeak of surprise as David became a child again. "Friend?" he asked.

Dr Burke's annoyance was softened. David reminded him of his own son at the same age, now grown and with a wife of his own. "Yes," he said. "Friends."

"Good," the child pronounced, and returned to a kitten form. Really, they were most adorable kittens. Perhaps he should go to a shelter for a new kitten?

"David does it again," Mr Castle said, resignedly.

"Let us begin once more," Dr Burke said, somewhat apologetically. "We have not started well."

"Yeah. We're sorry too, but... there's no good way to do this. The Ob-Gyn didn't believe us until we changed." Dr Burke blinked. He could imagine not. "And... well, even our friends didn't take it well at all, and we can't afford even a hint of this to get out" –

"Of course not," Dr Burke said reassuringly. "And now that I have assimilated the circumstances, I shall be happy to assist with your small deception. But..."

"Yeah?"

"I should very much like to know how all of this arose. Medically, it is quite impossible."

Detective Beckett shrugged. "Just call it magic, and accept it."

"But" –

"A Russian student who completely disappeared bit me. I found I was a cat. Some time later, I met Castle" –

"And aren't you glad you did?" – Detective Beckett scowled. Mr Castle smiled very sweetly.

"changed him, and then the twins came along. For two years, they were synced to me. Then they started to change independently, and we've been teaching them ever since that they never, ever change without our permission."

"Clearly, that has worked."

"So far."

"Mommy say when we change," David popped up to say. "Mommy an' Daddy cross if we naughty."

"Yes," Dr Burke agreed.

"Only change if home."

"Yes. Only when your mother and father allow you to change."

David slid off Dr Burke's knee and wandered over to his father. "Daddy play."

"Not yet, Davy-boy. When we go home."

"Wanna play!"

"David."

David subsided, but it was obviously temporary.

"If you permit, he may play with the toys."

Mr Castle lowered David and he scampered off to build towers and knock them over, which Dr Burke had found to be a natural human instinct. Shortly, Petra joined him.

The children occupied, Dr Burke joined the adults.

"I see no reason to believe that your children are anything other than normal. However, I also appreciate that you must preserve secrecy, and that you wish to tell the daycare centre that you have taken their advice." He coughed, a little embarrassed. "However, I have genuine patients who need my assistance, and I cannot justify using appointments for children who do not require treatment."

"No," Detective Beckett said.

"Therefore, I have a suggestion."

"Mm?"

Dr Burke shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I should like to study the effects of growing up as a shapeshifter" –

"You what?" the adults ejaculated.

"Privately. There would be no publications." He regarded their stunned faces. "Whilst your children are normal, other children do exhibit an inability to distinguish between imaginative play and reality. Observing how your children manage the situation will be extremely helpful in evaluating treatments for those children."

They stared at him.

"I do not need to observe them often: perhaps once each month?"

"Not another one," Detective Beckett said unhappily.

"Excuse me?"

"We've already got Gates – my boss – and her husband visiting. The twins aren't lab rats."

"Gates doesn't visit because she's investigating. She visits to scare the sh - sugar out of us."

"Want Gates!"

"Captain Gates, Petra."

"Want C-apt Gates." Petra still hadn't quite mastered the complexities of 'Captain'. "P'ease?" she added hopefully.

"Another day."

"No! Now!"

"No."

Petra's face contorted and turned red, undoubtedly preparatory to a tantrum. Detective Beckett regarded her daughter calmly. "If you tantrum, then it's time out. Right here, right now." Petra squeaked, and stopped the incipient tantrum in its tracks. Dr Burke was, rather unwillingly, impressed. David, however, was not.

"Petra shout. Petra naughty."

"Petra didn't shout," Mr Castle said over Petra's squeal of anger. "Petra wasn't naughty, either. But you were rude to your sister. Say sorry."

"Won't!"

"I think it's time we went home," Detective Beckett said. "The twins need a little time on their own."

"Nice to meet you," Mr Castle said.

"Not like doc'ors," Petra said. "You not doc'or. Friend." Dr Burke smiled. "Maybe." His smile slipped.

"Friend," David decided. "Wanna say bye-bye."

"Me!"

"Both of you can say goodbye."

Dr Burke found himself buried in a furry lapful of tussling cubs, from which it appeared that both were endeavouring to lick his face. That was not hygienic. He succeeded in catching one in each hand, and regarded them sternly. "Human, please." They produced twin embarrassed mews and became children. One planted a very sloppy, sticky kiss on his cheek. The other stared right back at him through suspicious hazel eyes, and, ridiculously, presented a small hand. Dr Burke shook it. The children bounced back to their parents – really, there was no other word for their progress.

"Thank you, Dr Burke," the adults said, simultaneously, and shook hands.

"Thank you. I shall contact you for a further observation session in one month."

The Castles left. Dr Burke steepled his fingers, and considered. He was sure that his acquaintance with their unusual characteristics would be most interesting. However, although he would never be able to publish his findings, he would be the author of some highly original research.

No lesser psychiatrist would ever be able to deal appropriately with the relationship between panthers and psychiatry.

Fin.

Thank you to all readers and reviewers.

To all those who may be affected by Hurricane Florence, stay safe.