For: for the girlslash comment ficathon, original link here.
It’s bad. Bad in the kind of way that no one is saying so. Which makes it worse, almost, or it would, if Alexis didn’t decide to ignore it, the way every other word kind of hangs in the air, ominous, like a cloud.
They’re joking around, both of them, like they never do. Which is sign number one. Well, Beckett being here in the first place is sign number one, she thinks, but she’ll brush that one aside. Pretend that maybe, sometimes, Beckett comes over on a whim. For fun.
(Because she does things for fun, despite what her dad thinks.)
But in between the jokes, there are these… glances. Over shoulders, behind backs. They should know better than to hide something like this from her. She’s a big girl, after all.
Finally, Alexis stops pretending to drink her orange juice, picks up a fork and drops it, deliberately, into the sink.
“Will you just tell me what’s going on? What kind of danger are we in, exactly?” And unsaid, What did you do this time?
“No danger,” Rick starts to reassure, lifting his hands, innocent. Beckett cuts him off.
“The suspect has my address, somehow. Your father thinks I’m a target. And the PD agrees.” Kate takes a calm sip of coffee. “And the residence of my partner is obviously the last place anyone would look for me.”
Castle sputters a little. “Now, I hardly–”
“If they’ve seen you together, yeah.” She knows she shouldn’t, but Alexis feels better, immediately, by knowing. “Dad’s made sure that my room is just about as safe as you can get. So don’t worry. You can stay with me.”
Kate half-smiles like her life is threatened every day. “That couch is awfully uncomfortable.”
“Exactly what I’ve been trying to tell him!” keens Martha, from the other room.