Simply and plainly:

for Chezchuckles (Writingwell)

Because she likes baby fics, hugs and people. And because her writing, she herself – the wonderful, generous human being she is – inspires me to read and write. Thank you.

Story: ABC

{A}

(march 2016)

The key rattles in the lock before she pushes the door open. It's silent on its hinges, the scrape of her dragging feet and dull clang of her heels the only sounds penetrating the stillness.

The loft is lit but silent, and she breathes out a heavy sigh, kicking the door shut behind her before she leans against the red wood. She closes her eyes, basking in the momentary silence, and takes a few steadying breaths.

The day had been brutal. Double homicide. Two kids not even in their twenties shot to death for the sum of exactly thirty two dollars they had in their pockets and their cell phones that weren't worth much more.

Sometimes, Kate just doesn't understand the world anymore: kids killing kids on the streets over a couple of dollars, girls being raped and left to bleed to death in dirty alleyways, jealous husbands murdering their spouses or their lovers in cold blood.

She takes another steadying breath, finally steps out of her heels and kicks them to the side to be dealt with later. Her feet are killing her. She's been running on these two days in a row, had barely time to stop by at home to grab a couple of hours of sleep before she had to leave for the precinct again in the morning.

They managed to wrap the case later in the afternoon, but it's been a long and dark day, and she's bone-deep tired and exhausted. It's late and she just wants to take a shower, crawl in bed and sleep it off, all of it, the gruesome and the incomprehensible and the tragic. It's been a long time since she had to tell a pair of parents, two sets of them, that their child would never come home again.

She drops her keys into the bowl sitting on the side table near the door, locks her jaw tightly against the feeling of utter helplessness when she remembers one of the mothers collapsing into a little sobbing heap, unable to be consoled by the shell-shocked grieving father.

But it's over now. She's home, she is home with her family now, and she needs to focus on that. Not the two broken ones she had to leave behind.

At least she got them justice. And maybe that's not something they are yet able to appreciate, may not ever really come to appreciate, but she knows it's more than she ever got for herself. Knows that somehow it counts to know that the people responsible are not running around the streets looking for their next victim anymore.

She lets her bag drop. It slides down her shoulder until it hits the floor with a heavy thud as she walks further into the apartment, pulling off her coat. She throws the light garment over the back of the couch, stretches her aching fingers and toes as she goes, her knuckles popping loudly. She yawns, rubs her eyes tiredly, listening to the silence.

Only now does she realize how really quiet the loft's been ever since she came home, how peaceful.

Huh.

No scurrying feet running to greet her, no warm smile or cheery call from the kitchen, no little body smeared with jelly throwing itself at her in a blur.

That's…unusual.

She looks around, her eyes searching for her two boys now, but there's no sight of either one of them. They must be home though, with the whole place being lit up like a Christmas tree.

She lets her eyes wander as she stands in the middle of the sitting room, her gaze sweeping the empty kitchen and lonely stairwell. The baby gate is shut closed, which means they must be downstairs, so that leaves only his study and their bedroom.

There are toys scattered everywhere but not as much as usual; the place is clean and rather tidy.

Intrigued, Kate walks towards the study and pushes the half-open door fully open but there's no one there so she proceeds straight into the bedroom.

And there, finally, she finds her husband, down on all fours, his cute bum staring right back up at her as he peers under the bed with his back to her, fiercely looking for something.

"Where the hell…" he murmurs. "Not funny anymore, okay? So come out, will ya?"

She can't help but let out a laugh, a surprised and breathless sound, at seeing him like this. No idea what he's doing, but still cute. When his head whips around to look at her, his shocked blues meet her green ones and she can feel a soft smile settle over her face as the tension of the day finally starts to slowly seep out of her bones.

Oh yeah, she's home. Definitely home.

"Castle, what are you doing down there?" she asks incredulous, her hands coming to her hips.

He jumps like a spring released, lands right in front of her, ramrod straight, a somewhat sheepish look on his face.

"He-ey, honey!" he sings-songs, his voice high-pitched and somewhat choked. "You're home early!"

"It's eight in the evening, Castle. I wouldn't call that early," she shoots back, her own eyes narrowing as his grow unusually wide.

"What? Already eight?" He looks genuinely puzzled.

"Yeah. I tried to call you like…half an hour ago, but you weren't picking up."

"Oh, right. My phone," he says frowning, his look going vacant for a moment as he distractedly looks around. "Must have left it in the kitchen. Sorry about that."

"No, never mind, it's okay," she replies, waving it away, taking a step closer to him and resting her hand on his arm, her thumb coming to brush the inside of his elbow.

"So," she says in a quieter, breathier voice, closing the gap between them as she naturally gravitates toward his heat. "I guess you're not crawling around on the floor for no reason," she says, a soft smile breaking across her face.

She's so close now she can see every freckle on his skin, the small droplets of sweat gathering on his forehead. Seeing the telltale sign of his Adam's apple bobbing nervously, she throws him a triumphant, knowing smile.

"Spill it out Castle. What did you do this time?"

He doesn't reply, merely continues to gaze at her, startled and slightly dazed, the smokiness of his look sending a lick of fire straight down her spine.

"Chipmunk already in bed?" she asks huskily, drawing ever closer, her hands coming to caress his sides as she presses into him, the solid and warm bulk of him waking every nerve ending in her tired body.

"Chipmunk?" he asks dumbly, still staring at her as if her mere proximity has the power to burn half his IQ away just like that and she has to laugh again, a free and happy sound.

"Yeah, the chipmunk. The monkey. Peanut. Crazy-little man, you can pick whatever you want. I mean our son, Castle," she clarifies, trying to sound annoyed as she rolls her eyes at him tiredly, but the smile still dances over her lips, betraying how cheery she really is just by being home with them again.

Damn.

She used to be better at this. Sterner, more frightening. Used to keep him on his toes with a single look.

Still, her words seem to do the trick, for a light comes on somewhere behind the aroused fog of his eyes and he blinks, then blinks some more, his eyes growing wide with awareness.

"Oh crap, right. The monkey!" he curses, and she watches in surprise as he abruptly disentangles from her, turns sharply away and walks over to the closet, yanking the door open to peer into it.

"Damn it, not here either," he mutters under his breath before he walks to look behind the curtains.

She continues to observe him for a moment, incredulous and slightly mesmerized before she finally asks the obvious question, "Castle, will you finally tell me what youare looking for?"

He doesn't stop, merely throws her a pointed look over his shoulder before resuming her actions.

It takes her a moment, because yes, it's been a long and exhausting day, but then it finally starts to click together and oh God, he didn't, did he?

"Castle!" she calls sharply, waits for him to turn his head towards her at the pointedness of her tone. "Are you…oh my God, are you seriously trying to tell me you are looking for our son?!"

He nods grimly before opening the bottom drawer on a chest at the back wall, gazing into it.

Like he could possibly find their kid inside. And what the hell, how the hell…how did this even happen?

"Richard Alexander Castle," she says in a slow, dangerously low voice as she crosses the room to come stand right in front of him. She grabs him by the front of his shirt, her fists in two tight balls against his chest, her eyes murderous.

"Did you lose my son?"

The words coming out of her mouth sound ridiculous, but even as she says them, she knows they must be true, because he gives her that guilty and even somewhat frightened look that tells her he already knows he's in big trouble.

She is momentarily left speechless, because really, what can you say to something like that, right? But then he's talking again, quickly, words tripping over each other on their rush exit of his mouth as he tries to explain and everything in her feels like slapping him because seriously? How old is he?!

"No, of course not! I didn't lose him," he emphasizes, tries to push a slightly offended note into his tone but oh boy, she's gonna kill him. "No... that's not at all true…no. He's just…somewhere. Hiding."

"Hiding?" she repeats, incredulous.

"See," he starts nervously, "we are kinda playing hide and seek. And he's…well, turns out he's better at it than I originally expected."

"You are playing hide and seek," she slowly repeats, her voice deep and deadly.

"Uhm, yeah," he stutters. His voice is already two octaves higher that usual and he's unconsciously taking measured steps away from her and he should, oh he should, because give her a minute and she'll seriously maim him.

"Castle, you are playing hide and seek with a 14-month-old? Are you crazy?" There's nothing calm about her voice anymore. "In a loft that's three times as big as your regular neighborhood apartment?" She takes a few steps forward, stalking him now.

"It was his idea," Castle defends, taking another step further away until his back hits the wall, no escape left.

"Uh-huh." She's standing right in front of him, so much shorter than him without her power heels but God, so deadly that he immediately spills his guts.

"We were bored. I gave him two minutes and then went looking for him. The little lizard disappeared like air. I swear, puff, he was gone." She gives him an incredulous look so he hastens to proceed, "Don't worry though, he must be somewhere around here. And everything's safe, I made sure of that, I just have yet to…to find him," he comes to a stuttering end.

"Uh-huh," she simply repeats, yet there's nothing simple about the look she is currently giving him. "And just how long have you been looking?" she hisses, vitriol dropping from her ever word.

"Um…" he checks his watch, "…about sixteen minutes and 24 seconds."

"You gotta be joking!" she explodes then, slapping his chest, hard.

"No, don't worry. It's perfectly safe, I swear!"

She gives him a glare, watches him gulp, but then a thought occurs to her, panic creeping up her spine as her eyes wander to the wall and through in the direction of the stairs.

"Don't be ridiculous," he says in an offended voice, serious maybe for the very first time since she came home, a lilt of hurt and defensiveness in his tone. "I checked the gate, Kate. I am not that stupid. He's gotta be somewhere down here."

Something in her chest eases at that, the fact that he had enough presence of mind to be at least a bit responsible about this crazy idea of his. She lets out a breath, forces herself to look at him and not to freak out about it.

Just a game, Kate, okay? No murderous peril. Just a children's game.

"Okay, okay. But Castle, honestly, are you crazy? Playing hide and seek with a toddler in a loft full of dangerous objects?"

"Hey! I didn't expect him to last this long!" he pouts. "But okay, I see your point. Who would have thought he had so much Beckett in him, right?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asks distractedly, already on her way out of the bedroom once she's sure that the kid's not there, having swept the room for all the possible hide-outs for a small giggling body.

"Well, stubborn, smart, resourceful and clever," he lists as he follows her out right on her heels. "I should have known he just wouldn't quit after a while." He sighs.

"Don't bother to charm me here, Rick. I'm still gonna kill you." She warns in a deadly tone. "Where exactly did you already search for him?" she asks then, barely suppressing her anger, pointedly not looking at him or she might say something she might later regret. Find the baby first, tell off her stupid jerk of a husband later.

She sweeps his study, crouches to peer under the table and then look behind the couch before she proceeds to the sitting room.

"Like...everywhere! I went behind and under furniture, looked behind curtains and peered under tables, I even tried inside the piano!"

She has to suppress the urge to roll her eyes again, tries to ignore the impending headache forming behind her eyes.

"Yes, because a barely walking toddler could climb into a piano. What a master plan," she throws back sarcastically.

"I know, right?" he calls back, throwing his hands up into the air like he can't believe it himself, and she sends him another deadly glare, causing him to shut up.

"Wait…." She abruptly stops in her tracks, causing Castle to plunge straight into her back. "Did you check the kitchen?"

"Of course I did," he sizzles angrily, his mouth right at her ear.

"Even the cupboards?"

"What would he do in the cupboards?"

"Yes, because the piano was such a better theory," she throws back sarcastically.

He looks offended, but at least instead of arguing with her he immediately makes his way to the kitchen.

"Kitchen's a good place to start. Food and games, Castle, your favorite pastimes, remember? Don't forget he's your son, too," she deadpans, throwing him a smirk.

"Touché," he replies dryly, but they both know there's a fair amount of truth in there too. Food and games, yes, and...um, something their son is still waaaay too young for. By like…decades.

They reach the kitchen island at the same time, come to a stand in the middle of the cooking space. Still no sight of the toddler.

"Okay," says Kate, taking a deep breath and gliding her look over the kitchen, all careful and focused all of a sudden, like a cheetah looking for its prey, and Castle gets lost in the picture for a moment, until she starts to speak, surprisingly loudly considering that he stands only a couple of feet away from her.

"So I wonder…where do you think he can be, Daddy?" She throws him a wink, purses her lips before continuing in dramatic wonder. "Where is my sweet, sweet baby boy?"

They wait a couple of seconds and sure enough, there comes a little suppressed giggle from somewhere in the kitchen.

They exchange a triumphant smile before she continues. "Oh, where is he? I miss him so much. If I only could cuddle him really, really tight!" Kate sing-songs and another chirping giggle rings out, louder this time as they step further into the kitchen, crouching to the ground. "I just wonder where he only hid himself," Kate goes on, signaling for Castle to stay quiet as she follows the sound of another muffled giggle; a fit of giggles really, from one of the bigger, lower cupboards. The two of them exchange knowing looks, nodding in unison before Kate crouches closer, pasting her ear to the cabinet door to identify the exact one.

"Hey Daddy," she calls, throwing a knowing smirk at Castle. "Maybe he is hiding somewhere down here, in the cabinets," she suggest loudly, now purely for the purpose of playing it up for their boy, and Castle can't help but whisper to her, "God, you are so hot when you figure things out like that."

She sends him another glare, but there's also something more dangerous in her eye at his words, a promise, whether deadly or exonerating he can't yet tell but he sure as hell is eager to find out, but instead of acting on it she turns back to the giggling cabinet and knowingly, purposefully, knocks on its door only to receive another giggle from inside.

She sends Castle a satisfied, self-righteous smirk but there's also something deeper, richer and more fragile in her eyes, relief and alleviation and God, she is so hot and gorgeous he just wants to take her to bed right away. Their son seems to be perfectly fine and happy exactly where he is and can surely wait to be found for another couple of minutes, can't he?

But his wife's already opening the cupboard door and there's a happy, gurgling yelp of "Momma!" and then two tiny hands appear and immediately snake around Kate, a tiny face pressing into the crook of her neck and uh-oh.

Those two tiny hands are completely smeared with….oh no, peanut butter.

She doesn't seem to mind though, not just yet, only smiles, cuddles the boy tightly to her chest as she stands up, the baby in her arms, cradled tightly against his mother's chest.

"Hey, baby," she calls softly. "Good hide!" she praises.

The boy gurgles in happiness, a delighted squeal on his lips and a proud, mischievous glint in his eye before he falls forward again, head-butting his mother in the chest and burying his face deeply into her neck.

Not just his hands, but the boy himself is completely smeared with peanut butter, and when Castle looks into the cabinet, he can see the whole disaster, the narrow space turned into a nest. His son has managed to create himself a hidey-hole amongst the various kitchen utensils, pots and pans and cans and jars of food, and right in the middle of it all, lying on its side, rests an open, half-empty peanut butter jar. Where did the kid get it? Castle has no idea.

Duh.

The place is a mess and he sighs at the amount of work it will take to clean up the tight space, but he can't be even mad, not really, when A – it was kinda his idea, B – he looks over at his wife cradling their son, the two of them watching each other and smiling like there is nothing else in the world but the two of them. Something tugs at his heart deep and hard, and it takes a moment before he can take another breath.

He clears his throat and looks at Kate, finally notices her wrinkled clothes and tousled hair, the tired lines of her face. It must have been a hell of a day for her. Damn. And he made her come home to this.

He steps closer, raises his hands in a piece offer to take the boy from her, guilt pooling in his belly for the mess he's caused.

"Here, let me." He murmurs. "I'll quickly give him a bath while you relax on the couch or take a shower. I'll make us some dinner then, promise. It'll only take a minute."

But she doesn't move, doesn't give up the boy, buries her face into his soft, light brown hair instead.

"No, it's alright," she whispers in a gentle voice, all her previous anger and annoyance miraculously melted away. "I'll take him up, give him the bath. You stay here and clean up the mess," she deadpans, a playful glint in her eye and a saucy smirk following his disappointed grunt.

"You earned it," she points out.

"Don't I know it," he sighs, looking at the mess in the cabinet.

She barks out a laugh, closes the space between them and presses a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Come find us when you are done," she husks before turning to leave, whispering quiet secrets into their son's ear as they slowly walk up the stairs, the boy happily chirping back to her, joyous and content in her embrace.

It takes him over half an hour to clean up the mess his son has made. He had to take out all the items in the cupboard, wash them and then clean the cabinet itself and stock everything neatly back.

It's late by the time he comes up the stairs, expecting to find Kate in the nursery with their son already asleep, but the room is quiet and empty. A strip of light comes from the bathroom instead, giggling and splashing noises coming from inside.

Although a bit surprised, Castle can't suppress a soft smile before his feet carry him there.

She's sitting on the floor in front of the bathtub, still completely dressed for work, jacket and all, as she sits on her haunches. The boy is sitting in the tub, the water shallow as he happily splashes water all around him, a yellow duck and a plastic war ship – a gift from Tio Javi – in his hands and a big grin on his face as he blabbers to his mother words only he can understand just yet, chatty little thing he is. Kate just sits there, embodiment of patience itself, giving the boy her complete attention, nodding and smiling and talking back, soft and warm and lovely, actually replying to her son's nonsense noises.

He takes a moment just to look at them, to cherish and enjoy the simple moment, trying to store the feelings it creates somewhere deep in his heart for a time he might need cheering up.

"So what, Castle? Are you joining us or are you just going to stand there for the rest of the night?" There's amusement and a fair dose of smugness in her tone when he jumps at the sound of her voice.

He should have known she would sense his presence. She always does, was always good at it. He smiles, walks fully into the room, lowering himself with a wince when his knees crack as he joins her at the ground.

"Dadda!" the boy squeals, extending his tiny hands filled with toys and Castle laughs.

"Yeah, I see buddy. Lots of toys you got there!"

The boy nods happily before returning back to playing in the water, splashing around him as he hits the surface with the ship all the while making motor sounds.

Taking advantage of the momentary diversion of their son's attention, Castle brings his hand to her neck and squeezes lightly, leaves it to rest there, right at her nape.

"Tough day?" he murmurs quietly, already knowing the answer but wanting to address it anyway.

She gives a huge sigh, the weight of the world in that one exhale and she closes her eyes, leaning into him and slowly sinking into his side. She buries her head in his shoulder, nods tightly against the soft skin of his neck.

"Bad case?"

She quietly nods again but doesn't pull her head from the crook of his neck, rests there instead. They stay in silence for a moment, watching the toddler play in the water, so happy, so oblivious of the cruel and twisted world outside.

"Sometimes…"she starts after a long while, her voice hoarse. "Sometimes I feel like I don't understand the world we live in anymore, Rick. Like everything's turned on its head and nothing makes sense anymore."

He doesn't reply to that, knows exactly what she means, knows his own fair share of wicked and dark and tragic. There is not much to be said to that. So he merely brings her closer to his side, wraps both of his arms around her, pressing a soft kiss against the crown of her head as they silently continue to watch their son play in the tub, this small human being, so full of mirth and life, enjoying the and safe, happy bubble they live in.

"Is there something I can do?" he asks after a moment, feels the tiny smile touch her lips as she presses a kiss against the skin of his neck.

"You already are," she whispers and the skin where her breath caresses him ripples with goose bumps.

"You both are," she says, her voice a little stronger, a little less broken as she untangles herself from him, extends her hands towards the toddler in the tub.

"Isn't that right, Sasha? You and daddy, you both make it okay again." She lifts the boy from the tub, cradles him against her chest, still wet and slippery and butt-naked as he is, silently waiting for Castle to provide Sasha's towel.

When he finally finds it, underneaths the boy's pajamas and clothes and toys and his sleeping blanket, he holds it up ready to receive the boy from Kate as she passes him on in a well-practiced ritual. He smiles at her, wraps the boy up into the soft terry cloth, completely covering him up as he dries him, the child precariously wriggling in his hands and squealing with laughter once he drapes the towel over his head and purposefully covers his eyes, knowing the boy loves it.

The baby in one hand, Castle picks up his pajamas with the other, decides to dress to boy in the nursery instead of the bathroom. He looks at Kate and her wet, peanut butter smeared blouse, some of the creamy mess even in her hair, and he can't help but smile at her.

"Why don't you go get yourself cleaned up while I wrap this up," he suggests. "I'll put him to bed and he will fall asleep right away I am sure, he must be so tired." As if on cue, to boy's eyes start to droop, his tiny mouth shaping a little O as he yawns, and Castle throws her a victorious smile. "And then I'll come down and warm up dinner for you. That okay?"

There's the slightest trace of hesitance in her but then she silently nods, gives him a soft smile in return.

"Okay." She closes the gap between them, kisses the already falling asleep toddler on his cheek, lingering there for a moment longer before she withdraws, presses a kiss to Castle's cheek as well.

"Thank you, Rick," she whispers.

"Always," he murmurs back, watches the smile blossom across her face.

"Hurry, will you?" she asks, sending him a wink.

Oh, he will. He always will.

A/N: This story is for the time being marked as complete, even if I am open to the possibility of returning to this universe again. For now though, it's complete the way it is.