A/N: Special thank you to Laura for submitting the photo that sparked this fic on tumblr and for proceeding to offer to create the cover art.

Kate awakens in their bed later than she had planned, her heart skipping in a moment of unnecessary panic as her eyes open to the alarm clock and the empty space beside her. She sighs and pushes up from the mattress, scraping a hand through her hair and blinking away the last of what little sleep she had managed the night before.

She had returned home far too late last night, her daughter already tucked in and fast asleep, her husband too, propped up in their bed with a frown marring his lips. It was rare since Lily had been born that she would slip into the loft long after midnight, that she would miss the readings of bedtime stories and deliverance of goodnight kisses, that she would ease into bed beside her restlessly sleeping husband, draw him down from his uncomfortable position of waiting. Waiting for her. Even now, she hated to make him wait.

Castle had startled awake at the caress of her fingers along his jaw, the apologies she painted to his mouth with her lips. He hadn't been upset, wouldn't hold it against her, despite how unhappy he had sounded on the phone hours before, when she'd called to inform him that she wouldn't be home by Lily's bedtime. She had wanted to ask him what was wrong, but he had ended the call before she could get the words out. She often rushed to make it home before dinner; Rick and Lily weren't going to hold one absence against her.

Kate swings her legs over the edge of the bed, pads into the adjoining bathroom to wash her face, awaken her senses with the splash of cold water. It was early still, especially for a Sunday, but Lily was an early riser, must have crept into their room and woken her daddy before Kate could be alerted of the two year old's presence. And Castle, the sweet man he is, must have quietly snuck out of the room with Lily to avoid disrupting her sleep. Even though it was his day.

"I'm sorry," she had whispered only a handful of hours earlier, releasing a soft breath of relief at the curve of his palm to her nape, the slow skate of his thumb along the bone of her cheek.

"S'okay," he'd rasped out, clearing the sleep from his throat and presenting her with a tired smile, the pale blues of his eyes illuminated by the 2 a.m. light of the moon streaming into their bedroom. "Sorry I snapped at you on the phone."

Kate had leaned in to kiss the weighted lids of his eyes, continuously threatening to fall closed.

"Not a problem, but also not like you, baby. What's wrong?"

But Castle had shaken his head and suffused his fingers in the sea of her hair.

"Nothing."

"Castle."

"Talk about it tomorrow, Kate," he'd relented on a yawn, but he'd held her flush against his chest, like he needed the contact, the comfort.

She had touched her lips to his chin in acquiescence, snaked her arms around his torso to soothe the bunched muscles of his back with the strokes of her fingers.

"Rick?" she had called before she could lose him to slumber.

"Hmm?"

"Happy Father's Day."

Kate emerges from the bathroom, from their bedroom, and starts towards the stairs when she notices the empty kitchen.

Good, at least she can still cook him a special breakfast, make good on her promise to Lily and let her daughter assist with the pancakes.

As she climbs the stairs, she can hear the quiet voice of her daughter, still soft with sleep, but alive with her usual exuberance Kate is convinced she inherited from her father, her words bubbling with the joy of a celebratory day.

"Daddy?" Lily begins, what sounds like the start of a new conversation, branching from the question Kate had caught about whether or not clownfish like Nemo from her new favorite movie actually have "daddies to keep them safe like Nemo's did" from the hallway while Beckett approaches the open door of their daughter's bedroom.

"Yes, Peanut?" Castle replies, jovial as always when it comes to answering Lily's questions, his voice still a little gruff with sleep, occupied as well, as if he's multitasking. Hadn't been up without her for as long as she had feared then.

"Do you have a daddy?"

Kate goes still in the doorway, finally able to look in on the scene of Lily sitting on the floor between Castle's knees, facing away from her, dressed in the black and white striped shirt they had picked out for her with the adorable, child-sized blue jean overalls they'd snagged last weekend at a boutique in Chelsea.

Castle has paused in the process of securing the second of two pretty, floral bows in Lily's hair that's parted into two french braids, knotted into tiny buns just above her shoulders. It's then that he senses Kate's gaze on him, the small break in her heart at the split second of sadness that had washed through his features, left his eyes a murky blue.

But it's only a second, a moment of mourning for the father he never had, that bond he'd never known, before a smile breaks across his lips, cracks his entire face open with light.

"Daddy?"

"No," he answers, fitting the bow into place, assessing the impressive hairstyle that must have taken him at least fifteen minutes, maybe less while Lily is still sluggish with lingering slumber and leftover dreams. Rick drops his hands to their daughter's tiny waist and hoists her to her feet so she can catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror across the room. "Not everyone is born with family, but sometimes, if you're really lucky, you find your family along the way."

Castle makes a face over Lily's shoulder in the mirror, grins at the melody of her laughter bouncing off the light purple walls before he twists Lily around to face him, his smile shining brighter, Lily's growing to match.

"Just like I found mine in Mommy, like we both found a family in you."

Understanding blooms in Lily's brown eyes, sparking to life those flecks of gold Castle likes to tease her about – She's becoming a mini you, Beckett. I see it more and more everyday – and turns her head at the soft step of Kate's entrance into the room.

"Momma," Lily greets, skipping towards her mother with a little stumble that has Kate reaching out to steady her. "Did you hear what Daddy told me? He doesn't have a daddy like you and me do, but he gots us so it's okay!"

"Has," Castle corrects, but his grin is too lovely, his gaze too tender, overshadowing the grammatical rebuke.

"I did," Kate affirms, dusting her fingers along Lily's hair. "And he's absolutely right."

"Are we still gonna make him pancakes?" Lily whispers – well, makes her best attempt at a whisper – and Kate chuckles, nods her head as she presses a kiss to the top of their daughter's.

"Yeah, we're going to make Daddy a really special Father's Day breakfast, then we're going to give him the gift you and I picked out for him, okay?"

Lily claps her hands together with glee and races past her mother for the stairs.

"Lily Jo, you go slow down those steps," Kate calls after her, listening to Lily's footsteps come to a halt before picking back up again at a snail speed, but Castle still joins her out in the hallway to monitor their little girl's descent.

"Special Father's Day breakfast and a gift? I'm honored," Castle quips, sliding a hand onto her waist and Kate lists into his touch, keeps her eyes on Lily's careful trip down the stairs but turns her face into the brush of her husband's lips at her forehead.

"Hardly a fraction of what you deserve," she murmurs, covering the hand at her hip with the drape of her palm to his knuckles, the fit of her fingers within the spaces of his. "You are the best father that little girl could have ever known."

They drift towards the stairs as Lily jumps from the final step to the hardwood of the main floor, skipping into the kitchen to retrieve her 'chef's assistant' apron from the pantry Kate's sure, but Castle stalls at the top, wrapping her body in the envelope of his arms, the warmth of his chest at her back.

"Father's Day always bugged me," he admits, his cheek against her temple. "Not so much once I was older, even less after I actually met the man who called himself my dad, but it's always managed to leave a bit of a sour taste in my mouth."

Kate hums in understanding and smoothes her hands along the forearms banded at her stomach, tries not to imagine the little boy without a father, watching those around him celebrate a day dedicated to something he had never been given, someone he had never been allowed to know, tries not to fathom the emptiness he must have felt that never quite went away.

"You're nothing like Hunt," she states the thought aloud, feeling his chest stutter with a breath at her shoulder blade. "I knew that long before we were even together, just seeing you with Alexis, but even more now, with our daughter. You would never abandon her for anything."

"No," Castle agrees without hesitation, holding her just a little tighter. "Never."

Kate turns her head to smear her lips to his cheek, nuzzles her nose to the plane of morning stubble peppering his skin.

"My life with you is so full," he breathes out, a quality of awe to his voice that captures her heart, squeezes it tight. "Being your husband, being the father to that perfect little mixture of you and me dragging out pots and pans in the kitchen right now-" Kate releases a breath of laughter against his cheek, disentangles from his arms but takes his hand to lead him down the stairs. "I'd never change it. I always wished that I could, wished for a father, but I don't need it. Just this – my family. It's more than enough."

"Rick," she sighs, her free hand ascending to cradle his cheek in her palm, draw his forehead to rest against hers at the top of the stairs, just for a moment before they continue downwards to join their daughter in the kitchen. "I'm really grateful I found you along the way."

Castle smudges a kiss to her mouth and she wishes they could linger, savor this tender moment of peace for a while longer, but-

"Momma! Pancakes!"

She chuckles against his lips, caresses the backs of her fingers along his jaw before she's tugging him down the stairs with her, groaning at Lily's mention of a s'morelette and Castle's smirk in response.

But his entire face is still alight with contentment, shimmering with joy, and that's all she had truly hoped to give him today, every day still to come.