Sunday September 30th, 2012.
She would allow herself a small moment of denial each morning when she first woke up. Usually, Castle would be curled up beside her - so peaceful, so unburdened, untouched by discomfort and nausea - and for just a few, very short moments she would watch him, soak in the mental image of him being so at ease. She loved those moments where everything seemed normal, where she could pretend that everything was okay. Some days these moments were the only thing that kept her going when she had to face reality.
This morning, however, Beckett woke to a cold and empty bed.
"Castle?" she croaked sleepily as her blurry eyes scanned the bedroom.
She groaned as she pulled herself from bed and shuffled toward the ensuite. No Castle there. He wasn't in his office either.
As she ventured past the book-lined walls and further into the shared spaces of the loft, she was almost certain that the scene unfolding before her very eyes must have been a dream.
Castle was standing in the kitchen with a smile on his face, talking animatedly to his daughter and mother. He had a mug in one hand and a spatula in the other, flipping pancakes. And when he noticed her, he looked at her with a starry-eyed adoration that set flight to a hundred tiny butterflies in her chest.
"Good morning, beautiful," he uttered, cutting off his mother mid-sentence, too distracted by Beckett's presence to even pretend to be listening to whatever the older woman had been saying.
Martha and Alexis looked over at Beckett, bright smiles adorning their faces.
Beckett smiled and brought her hand up to her cover the flush of her cheeks. "Morning."
"Can you flip?" he asked Alexis.
The girl nodded, took the spatula from her father's hand and happily took over pancake flipping duties.
Then, Castle turned his attention back to Beckett and shook his head disapprovingly.
"You ruined my plan," he said in a faux-stern voice, striding toward her with purpose. He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around, wrapped his arms around her waist as he walked them both toward the bedroom. "I was just about to bring you your breakfast in bed," he said softly into her ear.
Beckett hummed contentedly. "Breakfast in bed? What have I done to deserve that?"
"You deserve the world, my love," he whispered.
She planted her feet firmly on the ground, stopping their journey toward the bed.
"Everything okay?" Castle asked, releasing his hold around her waist.
She turned to look him in the eye. "I was about to ask you the same thing," she stated.
Castle sighed. "Can't a guy spoil his girlfriend a little without something being wrong?" When she simply raised an inquisitive eyebrow, he continued. "Okay, fine. I wanted to apologise."
Beckett sighed. "Rick-"
"But I knew you wouldn't tolerate that nonsense," he said, cutting off her protest. She shook her head, confirming his statement: she wouldn't tolerate that nonsense. "So I figured I'd just do something nice for you instead. Is that okay with you?" he added the question sarcastically; she couldn't help but smile.
"I am very much not okay with the fact you seem to think you have to apologise or make it up to me," she told him, trying her hardest not to turn this moment into a lecture. So, in a softer tone, she asked, "Will you be having breakfast in bed with me?"
Castle's smile beamed. "Of course."
"Well, I can help you prepare-"
"Not a chance," he objected. "Now, get back in bed. I'll be back with your coffee." And then, he rushed back into the kitchen.
Beckett climbed back into bed, tucked herself under the sheets and waited with a smile on her face. She knew better than to hope this sudden burst of energy and lack of side effects would last, but she also knew she wasn't going to waste the good days by dwelling on the bad.
She didn't know if they'd have an hour or a day. All she knew was that she wasn't going to waste a second of it.
