Genre: Crime, Drama, Romance, Family, Humor

Rating: M for violence, language and sexual situations

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters featured on the show Castle, they belong to the creator of the show, ABC, and the others who do own them.

A/N #1: Since this is such a short chapter, I'll be posting chapter 1 the day after I post this, so you readers won't need to wait my usual three days before I post again.

A/N #2: The lyrics here are some from the song Home (When Shadows Fall) by Harry Clarkson, Geoffrey Clarkson and Peter van Steeden, the version I have taken inspiration from for this story is sung by Paul McCartney from his album Kisses on the Bottom. No clue if there's a French version so that I may have made up.

A/N #3: The title of this is from the title of the song Home (When Shadows Fall); with the same information as in the A/N above. The title of this chapter is part of the title of the song Can She Do It Like She Dances by Steve Duboff, Gerry Robinson, sung by Ringo Starr, from his album Ringo the 4th.

Like She Dances

Opening the door to the apartment, the young woman stepped inside calling, "Maman? Are you here?" She paused, hearing the sound of the old gramophone echoing through the place, and smiled, knowing it was her mother's favorite song without being able to hear the lyrics. And it also let her know her mother was dancing in the extra bedroom. "I brought some Chateau Blanc, they didn't have the Rosette this time, but I think the mimosas will be fine still."

Setting a bag on the counter, the woman took out a bottle of champagne and some strawberries saying, "They had a sale on strawberries, which I thought was pretty amazing considering it's the middle of April." She waited for a response to that, since her mother's favorite fruit was strawberries. But when there was nothing, nothing but the music still, she turned and headed to the room her mother used for practice, feeling a little apprehensive as she went through the darkened hall; though she was trying to reassure herself with the song she wouldn't be heard as she translated the lyrics in her mind.

Dreams of days that used to be

Memories of those that I love the best

When shadows fall

And trees whisper day is ending

My thoughts are ever wending home

When crickets call

My heart is forever yearning

Once more to be returning home

When the hills conceal the setting sun

Stars begin a-peeping one by one

Night covers all

And though fortune may forsake me

Sweet dreams will ever take me home

The song was in French; the scratchy, deep female voice a constant from her childhood; and one her mother had made her dance to, perfecting each position, every placement of her feet, her toes, her arms, her carriage. She had no clue; when she thought of it later; why she was remembering that when she was trying to discover why her mother was unresponsive. The only thing she could think of to explain it was force of habit, so many hours to perform and that song playing repeatedly…

The walk down the hall seemed to take forever with her heart pounding heavily before she reached the slightly ajar door and pushed it in, the music still playing though the song was going through the lyrics a second time since she'd come in. "Maman?" she whispered heavily as she stepped inside.

At first she thought her mother was stretching at the barre against the left wall of the room. The curtains were blowing in the breeze, cutting shadows onto her mother's pink costume she wore for lessons; which she never wore at home; and she took another step, trying to tell herself to stop and turn back around. Looking at her closer then, she realized her mother's left leg was on the bar and stretched out completely in perfect position, her toes in their dainty pink slippers pointed down perfectly.

"Maman, are you okay?" the woman breathed, feeling a sense of relief as she told herself her mother had hurt herself and was going to move in a second, cursing in the languages she knew about a charley horse. But when she reached the mirror, she saw she was incredibly mistaken. Her mother's gray eyes staring up sightlessly and the blood coming from her mouth made her shriek, turning around and trying not to be sick on the polished dance floor as she realized her mother was not dancing; she was dead.