Castle 1. Chapter 1

**Thank you so much to Alex for providing the inspiration for this unexpected little beast of a story. It never could have existed without you.**

* * *

_"We cannot say much about love at first sight. It happens and we live in the wake of a new life."_

_-Coleman Barks_

* * *

Kate heaves the glass door open and tries to shake the rain from her hair as she steps inside. At least she hadn't made the mistake of straightening it today, otherwise it would be an untamable mess of frizz and kinks that she would have to tame into a bun, which isn't even an option since the handy rubber band she always keeps around her wrist had snapped the night before. She hasn't been having the best of luck these last couple of weeks, but damp curls she can deal with.

It was only drizzling outside, so she had gotten off the subway a stop early and walked her way to the post office closest to the Twelfth. She's surprised by the lack of people in the building as she joins the short line to the only open window. There's maybe three people in front of her and just a few others loitering around the wall of lockboxes across the building. It's a vast change from the usual cluster of New Yorkers impatiently attempting to send packages and mail letters.

Kate shifts the medium sized box in her arm to rest against her side. It isn't heavy, just a simple, impersonal care package that will mean more to the recipient than it will ever mean to her, but she's already tired of lugging it around the city with her.

"Wow, Haiti?"

Kate startles, cradling the plain white box to her chest, hiding the address from the man who's glancing over his shoulder at her and – oh, that's Richard Castle.

Her heart stumbles and she just knows her cheeks are heating up. Her favorite author is standing in front of her in line to mail a similar looking package in his arms and he's staring back at her with an intrigued smile. The photo on his book jacket really doesn't do him justice, but she isn't about to let him know that.

"Yeah?" she questions, a little too sharply, way too defensive, but it only seems to spark more interest from him as he turns around to face her.

"Mine's going to Oxford," he announces, proudly showing her the box in his arm, and she can already tell it's for someone important to him. Unlike hers, Richard Castle's shipping box has the name of the person he's sending it to in big, bold letters, and she swears she spots a few stickers on the top. Her box has Josh's name in a quick scrawl that's smeared from the rain and the address of his location in Haiti. Nothing more. "My daughter's there attending a summer camp for the gifted minds."

Her lips tilt upwards, because his eager smile is pretty contagious, and wasn't this man supposed to be some egotistical playboy? Perhaps it was judgmental of her, but she never would have labeled him as a proud father.

"Who's yours going to?" he asks, lifting on his toes to peer at the box as if that will help him see the address she has hidden.

She presses it closer to her chest. "My boyfriend," she answers with a narrowed gaze that sends him back down to the balls of his feet. "He's in Haiti, saving the world."

"Your boyfriend is Superman?" he questions, completely serious, and she smothers a smile, rolling her eyes instead.

"Doctors Without Borders."

"_Next_!"

"Oh!" He nearly stumbles as he spins on his heel, steps forward to deposit his package onto the counter where the woman weighs the box, stamping the top with a little too much force.

"I'll need you to fill out a customs form," the woman instructs, handing him a slip of paper and a pen from the cup near the window, but she shakes her head when he starts to write, directs him towards a table a few feet away. "While you do that, I can take the woman behind you."

Castle huffs, hauls his box to the table and begins scribbling in the information concerning the contents of his package. Kate is instructed to do the same and she refrains from rolling her eyes for a second time that morning when he seems pleased by their shared use of the table. He finishes first, leaving her to complete her form in peace.

She's not disappointed at all when she approaches the counter and sees his package behind the desk, ready to be mailed to England. She's not disappointed he's gone. She doesn't even know him, definitely doesn't like him. He'd be a nuisance to associate with any longer than she already has, she can tell.

So why does her stomach lurch with excitement when she sees him waiting by the front entrance?

Kate passes by as if she doesn't notice, but he falls into step with her as soon as she steps outside.

"I never got your name," he says while they both walk down the sidewalk. She notices he has an umbrella – she foolishly forgot to grab hers on the way out of her apartment despite the dark clouds she had caught a glance of while she was getting dressed, because she had been in a hurry since she had been sure the post office would be as packed as it always was – and he has it opened above them. But the black umbrella isn't big enough for the two of them and his shoulder is getting pelted with rain

She shrugs, not touched at all by the small act of chivalry. "You never asked."

"Ah, my mistake then. I'm Richard Castle," he says, holding his hand out to her. She gives his hand a short shake, but the contact sends a pleasant jolt of electricity up her arm that she startles back from. Her eyes jerk to his as she pulls her hand back, shoves it in her pocket, and she sees him hold the same surprised expression. "And you are?" he murmurs, his voice a low husk that heats her blood and sends a shiver down her spine.

"Kate," she gets out. "And I need to get to work. I hope your daughter likes her package."

"Wait!" He snags the sleeve of her blazer before she can abandon the shelter of the umbrella. He immediately lets it go when she glares at him in return. "I know you've got a boyfriend, but would you ever want to have coffee sometime? Just as friends?"

She almost scoffs in his face. Womanizing Richard Castle just wants to have a friendly coffee date? She highly doubts that.

"I don't think that would be a good idea, Mr. Castle," she sighs, confused by the pang of guilt his forced smile of understanding evokes. She turns guys down on a regular basis, it's never bothered her until now.

"You can call me Rick, and just in case you ever change your mind…" He produces a pen and a small notepad from the pocket of his jacket, jotting something down. And then Richard Castle hands her a piece of paper with his phone number on it.

She wishes she could call her mother more than ever.

"Nice meeting you, Kate," he says with a charming smile once she reluctantly takes the paper and folds it neatly in half.

He glances up and makes sure she's shielded by the building's awning they've stopped under before giving her a quick wave goodbye and continuing down the street. She bites her lip once he's turned a corner and can no longer see her, tries to quell the smile as she hurries down the last two blocks to the precinct. But she's got Richard Castle's number in her pocket and with no one watching, she can't help grinning over it.

The rain stops just as she steps inside the Twelfth and she thinks there's a chance her luck may be changing.


	2. Chapter 2

She spends more time than she would like letting the folded piece of paper on her nightstand mock her. She wants to call him, take him up on his offer for coffee, but she knows she shouldn't. She has a boyfriend and despite the mere matter of minutes she spent in his company, she knows there's some type of connection between her and Richard Castle, one that could be dangerous to her relationship.

They could_ try_ the just friends thing. His intentions could actually be pure – he's surprised her once before already – and really, when would she ever have a chance to meet privately with her favorite author like this?

She snatches her phone, enters the number she's already managed to memorize in the last three days and takes a deep breath. Her thumb hovers over the green call button and...

Kate drops the phone on the pillow beside her.

She wants to explore the opportunity of knowing Richard Castle, but she can't.

* * *

It's been five days since he mailed Alexis' package. It still hasn't arrived and Kate still hasn't called. He didn't necessarily expect her to, but he had hoped…

Rick pushes his phone away from him, watches as it slides precariously close to the edge of his desk. He needs to stop staring at it like the power of his mind can will it to ring. He's tried that and was rewarded with Gina calling instead. He diverts his attention to the blank word document on his laptop, but staring at this device does him no good either.

He pushes back from his desk, rises from the chair that he's spent too many pointless hours in this week. He needs to get out of the loft again. Walking around the city usually helps with his writer's block, or at least clears the stuffy feeling of failure from his head.

The middle of the summer in New York is scorching, so he tugs on a thin button up, a worn pair of jeans, and some sneakers. He'll eventually start wearing shorts, but he usually tries to avoid those for as long as he can. Alexis always makes fun of how pasty his legs are.

He scowls down at the sun deprived skin hiding beneath the denim as he locks up the loft and starts down the hall, taking the stairs because he's too wired to be cooped up in the box of the elevator. The exercise can't hurt either; he knows he's getting a little soft in his midsection, and although his mother and daughter swear it's hardly noticeable, he'd prefer to be in shape for the remainder of the summer.

Strolling down the familiar sidewalks, he wonders if he should opt for a spray tan. He always associates those with the color orange. He does like orange, but not on him - no, he can admit he's metrosexual, but that'd be taking it a step too far for him. He and Alexis will be lounging under the sun in the Hamptons in a few weeks time anyway and he always soaks in the sunbeams without much trouble. He'll be a shade darker by the end of their first day.

Castle shakes his head at his train of thought, realizing he must _really_ be blocked if his mind is wandering to the importance of his skin tone rather than creating stories for each person he passes on the street, like he used to be able to do with such ease. But ever since he killed Storm, he's just... empty.

Rick doesn't walk for long before his back accumulates a layer of sweat. He takes reprieve from the thick humidity and blaring sun in a coffee shop a few blocks from his loft. It's just after lunch, so the line is long, but he doesn't mind the wait, allows himself to relax under the glorious waft of the air conditioning. The trail of impatient bodies moves slowly, but he entertains himself with the new Angry Birds update on his phone and by the time he reaches the third level, there's only three patrons left in front of him.

"Are you out of your mind?"

Castle's eyes snap up, instantly scanning the café, searching for the source of that accusatory murmur. It belongs to a woman ahead of him in the line and he recognizes her voice.

"Hey buddy, do you mind if I cut in front of you?" Rick asks the man standing between them. The guy looks at him like he's crazy, but when Castle offers him a twenty-dollar bill, he gladly allows Castle to step in front of him and then he's right behind Kate from the post office.

"No, no way am I flying out there. I can't, I - Josh, I don't have the vacation time for that." He listens to her hiss into the phone pressed to her ear. "Well, maybe you should have thought of that before you left."

He can hear a protesting male voice on the other line as she retracts the phone from her ear, smacks the end button with her thumb, and tucks the device into the back pocket of her jeans just in time to place her order.

He commits to memory the grande skim latte with two pumps of sugar free vanilla she requests, along with the assaulting scent of cherries that lingers in the air surrounding her. He intends to make a clever comment when she turns around, but he must have drifted closer to her than he realized and she crashes into him before she can spare him a glance.

His arms lift to steady her out of instinct, cradling her elbows, but she jerks them out of his grasp a second later. Yet he still feels that same distinctive spark travel through him at her touch, just like the first day they met.

"Watch where you're-" Her fiery gaze softens once it finally lands on him. "Rick?" He swears he can see a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Are you stalking me?"

He huffs, slaps a hand to his chest in mock offense. "My apologies for liking coffee too."

She purses her lips, but yeah, she's definitely hiding a smile.

"Caramel iced coffee, please," he orders over her head and she moves to step out of his way so he can offer up his credit card. "How've you been, Kate?"

She hesitates, tucks a wavy strand of hair behind her ear. "Fine. Listen, I'm sorry I never called-"

He waves her off. "Don't be. It was an invitation, not a demand."

She looks pleased with the response, pleased with him in general, and it makes the hope that she'll reconsider flare brightly. He's suddenly glad he didn't try his usual pickup routine with her. He knows how to sweep women off their feet through simple conversation, to woo and seduce, but Kate isn't like the women who fall for his playboy charm. She would roll her eyes and stride away if he tried that, and the thought would normally put him out, but he _likes _that about her. It only adds to the intriguing pull, the string of electricity he feels towards her.

"But since you're already here, would you like to have coffee?"

Her order is called, but before she leaves him to retrieve it, she nods.

"I'd love to."

* * *

"I can't stay long," she tells him as they both slide into a rounded booth near the back. "I'm just on my lunch break."

His eyes linger on her tall cup of coffee. "Aren't you going to eat something?"

She considers lying, the _I already ate_ on the tip of her tongue, but lying takes energy and she currently doesn't have much to spare.

"I lost my appetite." Rick's brow creases in concern that she doesn't expect and she can't comprehend why it warms her insides. "I'm… I'm a homicide detective," she admits. This part of her life usually sends men running the other way, but his eyes light up at the information and it prompts her to continue. "And after staring at crime scene photos all morning, food isn't too appealing at the moment."

The excitement ebbs away to understanding and she finds herself tempted to open up to him, spill the details of the complicated case that has her head spinning and her stomach in knots. But she presses her lips together instead. It's not like she's allowed to go around sharing case information anyway.

"Do you think you'll have it solved by the end of the day?"

"We've been working on it all week and we've made progress, but I currently don't have a suspect, so-"

Her phone interrupts her and she sighs, murmurs an apology that he waves off.

"Beckett," she answers, watching Castle's head tilt to the side in confusion. Kate listens to Esposito, feels her heart leap in exhilaration at the news he relays to her. "Okay, text me the address. I'll be right there."

"Who's Beckett?" he asks, rising with her as she gathers her things and begins scooting out of the booth.

"Me," she laughs, fishing her car keys out of her pocket. "Kate Beckett, and I have a suspect."

He grins as he follows her to the door. "Well, Detective Beckett, I think you've found yourself a good luck charm."

She spins around before she can exit the building, finds him waiting with her almost abandoned cup of coffee outstretched towards her. She accepts it with a grateful smile, brushing her fingers over his just to feel the flickering attraction along her fingertips.

"Can I see you again?" he blurts, but then he's sputtering, trying to backtrack and rephrase. She never imagined she would have Richard Castle tripping over his words.

"Yes," she says before she can think better of it, but the look he gives her, the awe and excitement in his eyes, it's worth whatever mistake she may be making. "I'll call you, promise."

She shoots him one last smile over her shoulder as she dashes out the door.

* * *

Kate Beckett calls him later that night and he nearly drops the phone in his haste to answer the unknown number flashing across his screen.

"Richard Castle speaking," he greets, calmer than he feels.

"Hey, Rick."

A smile he isn't even aware of stretches across his lips at the rich sound of her voice floating through the speaker to his ear and he plops down on his bed.

"Detective Beckett," he counters and revels in the soft chuckle she gives. "Close the case?"

"Yep." He can hear the pride in her voice. "Earlier in the week we were called onto the set of this soap opera. You may have heard of it, Temptation Lane?"

"Oh, my mother was on that show once."

"Really?"

"Yeah, about thirty years ago. She sticks to broadway now." There's a moment of silence, but he can practically hear her thinking. "So, who died on Temptation Lane now?"

"One of the writers, she-"

He gasps. "Why would anyone want to kill a writer?"

"Stop interrupting, Castle, and I'll tell you."

He settles into a comfortable position on his bed, listens intently as she relays a tale of jealousy and betrayal, a murder worthy of the soap drama it took place on. Kate Beckett isn't a bad storyteller, he notes. She knew how to set up the outline, take him through the mystery from beginning to end, knew when to pause, when to play up the suspense, and how to deliver an ending.

"That's so cool," he whispers once she's finished. "You're such a badass."

He likes her laugh a lot. It's soft and melodious, pleasant, and he wants to hear more of it.

"I have the day off tomorrow," she says suddenly, quietly, because they both know she's giving him an opportunity and he's damn sure going to take it.

"Want to have lunch?"

He pictures her biting her bottom lip like she had at the coffee shop when she was on the phone with her colleague. He hasn't been able to stop imagining stealing the abused flesh, sucking it into his own mouth and-

"Sure."


	3. Chapter 3

Kate wakes close to nine a.m. and almost bolts from the bed, but then she remembers she's off for the day, not even on call. She's not late for work, but she's slept later than she has in months. It was a restful sleep too, not something she's accustomed to at all.

She reaches for her phone on the nightstand out of habit, swipes the screen with her thumb and enters her passcode.

_Hope you slept well. See you at noon._

She buries her smile in her pillow, feeling absolutely ridiculous because she is _not_ one to get giddy over a text message, but a text message from Richard Castle can be the exception, she decides. Just this once.

After making lunch plans, they had talked for a while. She had asked about his daughter and listened to him gush over his precious Alexis for nearly half an hour. It still felt surreal, to be talking to him at all, but even more so to _enjoy_ talking to him so much.

She normally isn't one for phone conversations, her best friend Lanie being the only exception, but she gave Richard Castle two and a half hours. She barely gives Josh five minutes.

She would have talked to him longer, all throughout the night maybe, if he hadn't heard her yawn and insisted she go to bed.

"Go to sleep, Kate," he had said, and after listening to his sonorous voice for so long, letting the low tones lull her into a comfortable drowsiness, she hadn't been able to argue.

Kate stretches in bed, popping her spine and scissoring her legs in the sheets. She'll forego a shower, having taken one the night before after she returned to her apartment, wanting to wash the case and the precinct from her skin. Her eyes travel across her room to stare at the open door of her closet. She'll take her time getting ready, and she'll need it since she's currently mulling over the trivial problem of what to wear.

_It is not a date_, she reminds herself as she shuffles out of her room and into the kitchen, to the coffeemaker. She can't allow either of them to turn this meeting into anything more than two friends having lunch, getting to know one another. Rick knows she has a boyfriend, he's known that from the start, and she doesn't doubt he'll respect that. But if she's being honest with herself, it's not Rick she's worried about.

* * *

Kate twists her hips in front of the full-length mirror and watches the skirt of her sundress flutter to life and billow around her thighs. She still isn't sure she should wear a dress. Maybe a dress is too formal, but it's a casual dress, not an evening gown. It's hot outside and it's not like she's dressing up for him, she's dressing like she would for a lunch date with Lanie. It's fine.

She nods to herself as she brushes her palms down the soft, navy blue fabric.

_You hardly ever wear a dress for Josh_.

She huffs at the little voice in her head that sounds like a suspicious mixture of her mother and Lanie. She ignores the reasoning of her head, slips into a pair of tan ballet flats and grabs her purse. It's already eleven-thirty, too late to change anyway.

She's never been to the restaurant Castle suggested, but she finds the little Italian café without trouble. He already has a table even though she's early and rises from his seat as soon as he sees her walk through the door.

"Kate," he greets her with a brilliant smile, his eyes flickering down to roam her figure. "Hi."

She chuckles, motioning for him to sit back down before he can hug her. She doesn't want to know what it's like to be held by him.

"Hey, long time no see," she teases, sliding into the wooden chair across from him.

"You look beautiful," he compliments, no leer like she's expecting, only sincerity, and she blushes.

"Thanks. Is this place any good?"

"Oh, it's amazing. Alexis and I come here all the time, you're going to love it."

She grins at his enthusiasm and the fact that he's brought her to a place his daughter apparently favors. Speaking of his daughter…

"Have you talked to her today?"

He huffs, sets his menu down so he can prop his elbow on the table, dig his chin into his palm. "I called during meal time with her friends. She said she'd call me back when she had the time."

Kate arches an eyebrow, amused by the put off scowl on his lips. "Castle, you guys talk every single day. You know she has a busy schedule."

"I know, but she's been gone for a whole _week_. I'm used to talking to her on a regular basis, now I'm down to five minutes a day, if I'm lucky."

The waitress brings them both two glasses of water and a plate of bruschetta before retrieving a notepad from her apron. Kate attempts to make a hasty scan of the menu while she listens to Castle order a Panini with a variety of different cheeses. When the waitress looks to her, she bites her lip.

"Alexis always says the fettuccine, the first one listed in the pasta section, is to die for," he suggests, noticing her slight dilemma. "If you're in the mood for pasta of course."

Kate locates the dish on the laminated menu with her finger and notices the waitress watching, patient but expectant, and she recites the dish name to the woman, who jots down her order with a smile before taking their menus away with her. Kate sighs, at least her Italian is decent enough and she didn't embarrass herself further by butchering the overly complicated dish title.

"Sorry, shouldn't have distracted you," he says with a sheepish smile, but she waves him off.

"Has Alexis ever been away from home this long before?"

Castle shakes his head. "I was worried she would get homesick, like I did when I was a kid, but she settled in fine. She's thrilled that she still has nearly two weeks left."

"Did she like that care package you sent her?" she asks, nibbling on a piece of bruschetta.

He grins, brightening at the mention of it. "Yeah, I sent her all of her favorite American treats, this new book she had been wanting, and a notebook with a letter from me for each day she's away, just in case, you know, she misses me."

Kate chuckles, but her heart softens at the adoring father who misses his daughter in front of her. His hand is a few inches from hers on the table, resting near the plate of bruschetta and she wants to brush her fingers over his knuckles, in comfort or support, maybe even approval. But even if she wasn't already with someone else, it's too early for a touch like that. She would never do that with anyone else on a first date, not that this was a first date-

"What'd you put in yours?"

Her brow crinkles in confusion. "My what?"

"Your care package, for Superman."

She rolls her eyes, but her stomach sinks at the mention of her boyfriend. That has to be a bad sign. "It wasn't really a care package. Just stuff he asked me to send over. Toiletries, a few extra shirts, stuff like that." She fights the urge to twist her fingers in her lap, to shift in her chair or excuse herself to the restroom. "His name is Josh, by the way."

The waitress chooses that moment to bring their food out to them and she's never been so grateful for a distraction. But it doesn't distract Castle. While she waits for her steaming pasta to cool, he asks the worst possible question.

"How is Josh?"

She frowns, pushes her fettuccine around her plate with her fork. "Fine, I guess."

"When's he coming back?"

She shrugs. "I don't know. We haven't really talked much since he left."

"I'm sorry, Kate. I know it must be difficult," he murmurs and she risks a glance at him, catches him watching her with concern and a barely discernible hint of yearning that she isn't meant to see.

"It's funny," she mumbles, returning her eyes to her pasta, where it's safe. "At first, I loved that he was so busy. It gave me an opportunity to keep one foot out the door, just in case."

"But with one foot out the door, it's hard to know where you stand."

She swallows hard, because he just spoke a truth she had yet to confront herself.

"And even if I did, I mean, what does it mean? He's out there. He's saving people. Just - how do you even compete with that?"

She listens to him sigh. "You can't. No one can."

"And that's one of the things that attracted me to him the most. That... passion, that drive." She frowns at her food and spears a bundle of the pasta with her fork. "Why is it that the thing that attracts you to a person always ends up being that thing that drives you crazy?" she mutters, but it's pointless to be throwing all of these questions at Rick, whom she hardly knows in the first place, and she shakes her head. "I just wish that it - I wish that I had someone who would be there for me, and I could be there for him, and we could just dive in to it together."

Castle's fingers brush her knuckles and she forces herself to look at him again, to meet the imploring blue gaze across the table.

"It might not be Josh, but I think you'll find that person, Kate."

She captures his fingers in hers, gives them a gentle squeeze before pulling her hand back to her lap.

"I hope so."

They continue the rest of their lunch with lighter topics. He asks her about work between bites of his sandwich, makes her laugh with his enthusiasm towards her job, and argues with her about literature during dessert and then about the check at the end of their meal, which he vehemently insists on paying.

Castle places his hand on the small of her back as they exit the restaurant and she almost leans into his side, lets him prop her up, but she straightens her spine instead and his hand quickly retreats to his side. She wants to sigh in disappointment.

"You're right, the food was incredible."

"I would hope so after all those sinful sounds you made over the cheesecake."

She elbows him in the side, but he still smirks down at her.

"Want to walk it off with me?" she asks, but he's already fallen into step beside her.

They end up strolling for a while, wandering aimlessly. He takes her hand at one point, when the post lunch crowd threatens to sweep them apart. His hand is large - broad palm, thick fingers, engulfing hers - and she yearns to twine their fingers because she already has the feeling it'll be a perfect fit. But Castle releases her hand once the sidewalk clears again and she almost tries to snag his disappearing fingers when they drift from hers, like a magnet automatically drawn to its partner.

She forces her hand to curl into a fist.

They're passing a bookstore – she smiles as she realizes it's the bookstore where she first met him, years ago on a freezing day in February – when she catches sight of a park across the street. They have nowhere to go and she definitely doesn't want to go home yet, so she allows herself the luxury of grabbing his hand again and leads him to an empty swing set, plops down onto the worn seat, and looks up to see him grinning at her.

"What?"

He shrugs. "Interesting choice of venue is all."

He takes the seat beside her and Kate sways sideways, laughs when she bumps into him doing the same. He hooks his fingers around the chain of her swing, inches her closer, higher off the ground, and then lets her glide away from him.

"Ever bring Alexis here?" she inquires as she drifts sideways through the air.

Rick's eyes roam the park and he shakes his head. "Not this one. There's hardly any play equipment."

She hums, digs her feet into the dirt at their feet to keep from slamming into him once more.

"Hey Kate?"

She looks to see him watching her, pensively, hopefully. The butterflies in her stomach come to life, tickle her insides.

"I know this is… We're not…" She bites her lip as he swipes his palms over his jeans, like he's actually nervous. Richard Castle - bestselling author and notorious playboy - flustered with sweaty palms over her? Can't be. "I know we can't be anything more than friends." The butterflies fall dead, but there's an unspoken _yet _in that statement that has them considering revival. "But if it isn't too weird for you, could we keep hanging out? Like we did today? I don't know if a man and a woman can do that anymore without it becoming… well, you know, but you're great, and fun to be around, and you're... you're real. And I like you." Her cheeks tint red, the color even spreading to her ears, and she doesn't dare lift her head, allow the curtain of her hair to fall and give her away.

"You're not so bad yourself," she offers and hears him laugh. It helps clear some of the heat from her face and she finally returns her gaze to him, smiling. "And I don't want to stop hanging out with you either."


	4. Chapter 4

It's been a week since her platonic lunch date with Richard Castle, but she's spoken to him every evening since. Kate's usually the one to call him after her shift, if it isn't too late, and if it is, they both settle for texting.

Her phone bill has never been higher.

She knows she won't be home by their usual midnight deadline, so she retrieves her iPhone from under a flipped manila folder on her desk and dials his number.

"Detective Beckett," his booming voice answers. "How goes the new case?"

"It's going nowhere," she huffs, rubbing her fingertips in circles over her forehead.

"Well, try talking it out to me. That always seems to help."

"Help me or you?" she challenges, smirking even though he can't see her. Hitting a dead end in a case isn't an unusual occurrence for her and her team, and the few times it's happened while she's been in communication with Castle, he's always eager to help in any way he can.

"We'll see, won't we?"

She rolls her eyes, but gives in, reciting the details of the dead juror in the Lila Addison case, venting to him about the lack of a much-needed connection between the victim and the late focus of the trial.

"Ryan, Espo, and I have been searching all day. It's like they don't even live on the same planet," she mutters.

He's quiet for a handful of seconds, a sign that he's thinking. "What if you sent me the crime scene photos? I could-"

"Castle, we've talked about this."

"Fine, fine," he relents. "You've been working that case nonstop today, right?"

"Obviously."

"Detective, you need a break." She can hear him moving around on the other line – the sound of a chair being pushed back, keys jangling, a door being shut. "Pack up, I'm coming to pick you up."

She sighs, glares down at the endless mass of case information claiming her desk. "Rick, I can't. I need to find the connection between-"

"And you will." She can hear the distinct noise of the city now, indication that he's already out of his loft. "But c'mon, Kate, are you really going to magically find an answer sitting there staring at files and finances all night. There is a connection and you'll find it, but a fresh pair of eyes, and some sleep, would do you good."

Beckett chews on her bottom lip, glances over to Ryan and Esposito's empty desk space. They had gone home an hour ago, but it's never been her nature to walk away empty handed.

"If you still want to go back to work after an hour, I'll bring you straight back to the precinct," Castle promises.

"Where do you plan to take me?" she murmurs, her lips turning up in a small smile without her consent. She shouldn't be excited about ditching her work, about seeing him, but her chest feels lighter at just the thought and the butterflies are back in her stomach.

"Forbidden Planet is playing at the Angelika," he suggests, and her smile grows.

"I love that movie," she confesses, twirling a loose curl around her index finger before realizing what she's doing and pushing her hair over her shoulder.

"Then grab your stuff and meet me outside the…"

"Twelfth Precinct," she supplies, shutting her computer down.

"Got it. I'll be there in fifteen."

Kate takes her time gathering up her belongings and strolling to the elevator. Guilt gnaws at her for leaving a case like this. Normally, she would wait until she had all of her work wrapped up, all loose ends tied, before rewarding herself with a night out, but she's exhausted, and she hasn't seen Rick in a week, and settling down with popcorn and one of her favorite movies sounds almost as good as a hot bubble bath and a glass of wine.

He's waiting by an idling cab when she steps out of the precinct. He waves at her and she quells the urge to smile back like a girl with her first crush – because it's not like _that _with them – and manages a casual grin instead.

"Hey," she says, attempting to keep a normal pace as she crosses she short distance of sidewalk to meet him, reprimanding her legs for wanting to carry her to him quicker than appropriate.

"Evening, Detective Beckett. You look lovely, and tired."

She snorts, squeezes his arm in greeting before she slides into the cab. "Thanks, Castle. Is this charming honesty how you woo all the girls?"

He slips in beside her and shuts the door, directs the driver to take them to the theater. "Quite the opposite actually," he quips, leaning back against the cracked pleather. She gives him a quizzical look, but he shakes it off, launches into talk about the movie they've both seen enough times to have the entire script memorized.

They avoid talking about the case and she's grateful. Castle relishes in discussing her cases, in building theory over unsolved murder details she shouldn't be sharing with him. But he's proved helpful, almost always managing to spark an idea or coaxing her into seeing things in a way she never would have considered before. She reasons with her guilty conscience that her captain would _want _her to use the resources at hand, wouldn't he?

The Angelika isn't crowded when they arrive; no waiting is involved in getting their tickets, only a few minutes for refreshments. She didn't expect it to be packed. After all, it is a weeknight. Castle guides her into the correct screening room with a hand at her back, but allows her to pick the seats in one of the middle rows.

"You sure you don't want to sit in the back row, where it's all nice and dark and-"

She swats his arm but shares his amused smile as she tugs him down beside her.

Kate sips from her overpriced bottle of water and steals a handful of his popcorn when he offers her the large bucket. The previews start to roll and with her eyes on the screen, she isn't paying attention as she makes another grab for the popcorn. Of course her hand collides with Castle's.

He arches his brow and she snags her kettle of corn, pops it into her mouth, and ignores the heat that slices through her middle when she feels his eyes on her lips.

"Eyes to the screen, Rick," she murmurs, relaxing back into her seat while the lights fade and Forbidden Planet debuts its title on the screen.

But after only a few minutes, her focus threatens to blur. She tries to blink it away, takes another sip of her water to wake her up, but the lids of her eyes feel as heavy as the rest of her worn body.

The heat of the summer days, the frustration of the case, the lack of sleep and unhealthy amounts of coffee she's been running on have all drained her. She tries to focus on the screen, on the quiet commentary Castle whispers into her ear every few minutes, but eventually, her vision starts to tilt sideways.

She realizes her head has fallen to the pillow of his shoulder, but she has neither the will nor the desire to move.

* * *

The lights have come up and the few fellow moviegoers are making a line for the exit. And Kate is still asleep.

She had absently been pilfering handfuls of his popcorn during the previews, even throughout the first fifteen minutes of the film, but by the first half hour, her head had fallen to his shoulder and when he glanced down, he saw her eyes were closed, her face was slack, and her body had gone limp in her seat.

He hates to wake her.

"Kate," he murmurs, reaching over to gently shake her knee.

She jerks without preamble and slowly lifts her head, stares up at him adorably rumpled and disorientated.

"What… oh, don't tell me I fell asleep during the movie," she groans, dropping her forehead back to his shoulder.

Castle hides his smile, gives in to his desire to momentarily rest his cheek to her head, and pats her knee. "Yes, you're unfortunately one of those people."

She grunts and lifts her head again, the comfortable weight of her gone.

"You ate my Junior Mints?" she accuses, snatching the empty box from the cup holder.

"They were going stale. Just sitting there," he defends. He always has chocolate with his popcorn, but her presence distracted him while they were buying snacks.

"Castle, they hadn't been opened yet."

"I'll buy you a whole _bag _of Junior Mints. Let's just get out of here before the janitor comes in and things get awkward.

She scowls but agrees, allowing his hand to splay along her lower back for the second time that night as they make their way to the exit.

"So," he hedges once they're outside. The air is nice in the night, cooling rather than boiling as it is during the day, and she seems to revel in the change, stretching her arms above her head and arching her back. He swallows. "Back to the precinct?"

She smiles, a languid curl of her lips, but shakes her head. "No, Montgomery will kill me if he catches me sneaking in there this late."

"Roy Montgomery, right?"

She stills, the lazy smile dissipating. "Yeah, why?"

He raises his hands to her in supplication. "Don't get so defensive. I was only asking because Roy Montgomery is one of my poker buddies." The calculating look of wariness intensifies. "Want me to sing your praises next time we meet?"

"I'll murder you."

He laughs and catches her wrist when she swats at his chest.

"Don't worry, Kate. He's usually too busy to attend anyway."

She sighs in relief and uses the hand curled around her wrist to lead him down the sidewalk. "C'mon, Castle, walk me home."

He's pleasantly surprised by the invitation. He's made some internal guesses, but really, he has no idea where Kate lives. They parted ways at the park last time they met despite his offer to walk her home then. He had assumed she didn't trust him enough to reveal where she lives. It takes time to learn things about her, new details unspooling from her slowly, reluctantly, but he's a patient man and he doesn't have to know every piece of her right away. He enjoys the steady process of peeling away the layers of the Beckett onion.

The walk to Tribeca takes twenty minutes, but he savors the leisurely stroll in the refreshing night air with her. Conversation comes easily with Kate, so does the brief bouts of handholding that he knows he should stop initiating, but can't really seem to help, not when she continues to allow it, and by the time they make it to her building, it's past midnight and he doesn't want to say goodnight.

"Thanks for tonight, Rick," she murmurs, watching him from underneath the black shade of her lashes, shy all of the sudden. "I had a great time."

"During the time you were awake?"

She laughs quietly and scrapes her hair back with her fingers. "I'll make it up to you."

"Oh?"

"We'll see another movie," she clarifies.

"Better idea. Come to my loft for a movie night. I have much better seating arrangements."

She bites her lip. "When?"

"When you close the case. It could be like a celebration," he suggests with a grin and she laughs again, much to his delight.

He loves making Kate Beckett laugh.

"Fine, I'll call you," she agrees.

Kate turns to leave, but he captures her fingers again. She looks to him questioningly, but her throat bobs. If she were single, he would kiss her right now.

It would be the perfect opportunity for a first kiss, right outside her building after walking her home, but admittedly, if he were the writer of their story, he thinks he would want his first kiss with Kate Beckett to be a little less predictable, a little more spontaneous. More magical.

He almost laughs aloud at the thought. Who's he kidding? He would take any kind of kiss from her in any setting at this point.

But anything that crosses the line of friendship is off the table for them, so he goes with his original, poorly thought out intention, and leans in, brushes his lips to her cheek.

Her eyes are a shade darker when he pulls away, and he swears they flicker to his lips just once before darting away. "Until tomorrow, Kate."

He steps back, starts towards the direction of SoHo. He'll grab a cab, or maybe call his driver if he needs to, once she's safely inside.

With her hand on the door, she studies him for a moment, thinking, always thinking, and then her contemplative expression deflates into a smile.

"Night, Castle."

She disappears inside; he disappears down the street, into the night, but the smile on his lips doesn't waver the entire cab ride home.


	5. Chapter 5

Kate shifts from foot to foot in front of his door, annoyed with herself for actually being nervous about this. There was nothing to be nervous about. She's hung out with Rick a couple of times now, it's easy and comfortable, and the new setting of his loft won't change that.

She knocks on the door with a firm certainty she doesn't feel. When she receives no answer, she checks the address he texted her last night and then her father's watch for good measure. She's in the right place and he said seven.

Kate knocks one more time, and again, no answer. But just as she's about to turn away, the door flies open and she's greeted with a lanky redhead in the most colorful robe she's ever seen with a vibrant green cream smeared across her face.

"Oh, you must be Kate!" The woman beams, clapping her hands together. "Richard's told me so much about - well, actually he hasn't. He's been very close-lipped about you, dear. You must be special."

"Mother, who are you-" Castle pauses in the living room, a towel around his waist, his hair dripping onto his bare shoulders. This has to be the most awkward encounter of her life. "Is it seven already?"

"Almost seven fifteen," she points out, watching him wince, but her eyes quickly threaten to drift downwards and she directs her gaze to her shoes, where it's safe.

"Well, don't just stand out there in the hallway, come in," his mother insists, drawing an arm around Kate's shoulders and sweeping her through the front door. "I'm Martha by the way, Richard's mother."

"Martha Rodgers?" Kate asks, and the older woman smiles, wide and bright before performing a dramatic curtsy. "I've seen your name in the papers."

"Don't encourage her, Beckett," Rick's booming voice warns from another room.

"Ignore him," Martha flutters her hand in the direction of an open doorway that leads to an office. "He's jealous of my widespread talents."

Kate chuckles as Martha leads her into a spacious kitchen with gleaming appliances and marble countertops. She had figured Rick's loft would be breathtaking, and she wasn't wrong, but she had also assumed it would be a bachelor pad, not a family friendly space.

"Wine?"

"No, thank you," Kate declines, but Martha pours her a glass of shimmering white anyway.

"Just in case you change your mind." His mother winks. "So are you and Richard going out on a date?"

"Umm, no," Kate hedges, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and deciding to accept a sip of the wine after all. "We're just going to watch a movie here."

"Oh, I see. You're staying in for a date then. That's very smart with the economy these days, you know. Ticket prices are just so high and don't get me started on the price of-"

"We're just friends actually," Kate corrects her, bringing Martha's babbling to a halt. But the older woman's radiant blue eyes are gleaming with disbelief and a knowledge that sets Kate on edge.

"Ah," she murmurs. "Good luck with that, darling."

"Sorry about that, Kate. I really didn't mean to lose track of time," Castle says as he re-enters the room in sweatpants and a t-shirt. She's never seen him in casual, comfort clothes before. She wouldn't mind seeing it more often. "Mother, are you going to take the mask off anytime soon?"

Martha's hand flies to her cheek. "Oh, dear."

"Well, you've met my mother," he mutters as Martha bounds up the stairs and Kate laughs, turns to find him beside her, reaching for his mother's abandoned wine glass and taking a sip. "And you look thoroughly freaked out. What did she say?"

She shakes her head, even as he narrows his sparkling eyes on her over the rim of the glass.

"Nothing, I didn't know she lived with you," she deflects and he knows she's dodging his question, but he goes along with it, nods and deposits the empty glass to the sink before motioning her towards the couch.

"Her last beau left her pretty penniless. She would never have asked to stay here, so I made an offer she couldn't refuse. Alexis enjoys having her around."

"And you?" she queries, lowering herself onto the leather sectional while he kneels in front of the television, opening up a sleek cabinet beneath that holds rows upon rows of DVDs.

"She definitely makes life more interesting," he admits, but there's a soft smile curling at the corner of his mouth. "Now, what are you in the mood for?"

He waves his hand over the DVDs in a flourish and she leans forward on the couch, scans a few of the titles.

"I haven't seen Rear Window in years," she murmurs, more of a suggestion than a decision, but he seems pleasantly surprised.

"Interesting choice," he declares as he withdraws the DVD from its slot. "I was worried you'd hit me with a chick-flick."

She rolls her eyes. "I'd hate to watch you cry through The Notebook."

"I'll have you know I have seen practically every sappy romance movie in existence with my daughter and I've never cried once," he proclaims, inserting the disc into its player and rising from his crouched position on the ground, hissing when his knees pop. "Don't make fun," he warns her and she lifts her brow in false innocence.

"Of what? Your aging body or the fact that you cry through chick-flicks?"

The sound of knocking cuts off the reply forming on his pursed lips.

"I ordered us food, but now I'm tempted not to share," he huffs, marching for the door and leaving her grinning around her barely touched wine glass.

She listens to him thank the delivery person, wish them a good night, and watches as he hauls two large brown bags to the kitchen island.

"I hope you like Chinese," he says as she rises to join him. "I ordered a bit of everything."

"Thought you weren't sharing," she teases, placing her glass down near the sink and nudging his side.

"I'll make an exception, just because I know you probably haven't eaten anything since lunch."

She sneaks a glance at him, catches the knowing look of reprimand and underlying concern in his gaze. He's always baffled by how she runs on so little sleep and nourishment, always worried that she's going to pass out at work or something, but she's been this way for years. Her body is used to the unintentional punishment.

"Perfect," she says, ignoring the latter part of his comment. "Chinese is my favorite."

"I had a feeling," he quips, not pressing on the matter. "You must live off takeout with your usual hours, right?"

She shrugs. "Depends on the case, but yeah, most of the time."

"Well, you're eating a celebratory dinner at Chez Castle tonight, so go get comfortable and I'll make up your plate."

She dismisses him and sheds her leather jacket, drapes it over a chair, and pulls her hair back into a low ponytail. He grudgingly hands her a plate, allows her to begin serving herself, but as they bump elbows and hips depositing food onto their plates, she sees a hint of a smile on his lips again.

Castle takes their plates to the living room while she carries his beer and her bottle of water. She kicks her heels off behind the couch before she joins him on the furniture, being sure to keep a good length of space between the two of them. Castle pretends not to notice as he holds a fork out to her, using his other hand to navigate through the film's menu with the remote.

"Have a nice evening, darlings," Martha calls as she breezes down the stairs and to the front door, three inch heels clicking against the hardwood floors. "Don't wait up, Richard."

Castle salutes her with his beer. "I never do. Be safe, Mother."

"I'll do my best," she returns as she swings the front door open. "It was lovely to meet you, Kate."

"Likewise," Kate calls back with a smile.

The door shuts behind Martha and Kate turns her eyes to the food in her lap as Castle starts the movie. They don't speak, but it isn't awkward. The silence is companionable, comfortable. She's never found this kind of comfort in another person, never found peace in another person's presence like she has with Rick, and it scares her.

She's used people before, used men before, but always for distractions from other things, painful memories. She isn't using Castle, is she? He doesn't necessarily distract her from the darker parts of her life, but he does make her smile easier than anyone else can. He makes her laugh and reminds her what it's like to have fun. He's a flicker of light in the darkness.

Kate sighs and leans forward to set her near empty plate on the coffee table.

"You okay?" he asks, studying her, as usual.

Rick is perceptive, too. He seems to sense what's on her mind most days, even through the phone, and she doesn't like that either. It makes her feel vulnerable, like he could penetrate her carefully crafted walls without even trying, and no one's ever been able to successfully achieve that. Not even close.

"Fine," she answers with a small, forced smile that he sees right through, but she ignores his gaze and situates her body sideways onto the couch, relaxes her back into the arm of the seat and slides her legs across the cushions, slipping her toes beneath his thigh.

He tries to hide it, but his eyes crinkle with the upward turn of his lips as he returns his attention to the television screen. A moment later, though, his fingers are curling around her ankle, his thumb circling her protruding talus bone. Kate hums in contentment, wiggles her toes under the warmth of his thigh in appreciation.

By the end of the film, Castle has inched closer on the couch, her legs have migrated to his lap, and his arms are wrapped around her bent knees.

"Want to watch something else?" he asks and Kate rolls her head towards the display of movies. She's on call tomorrow, which means she'll likely be summoned in to work at some point. She _should_ go home, but her body has melted into his couch and it's only nine-thirty. One more movie with him couldn't hurt.

"Sure. You pick."

Castle lifts her legs so he can rise from the couch, but makes quick work of choosing another movie and placing it in the expensive looking DVD player. He's plopping down next to her again barely a minute later.

"What are we watching?" she yawns as he fast-forwards through the previews.

"You'll see," he grins.

She laughs when the theme song starts. "Star Wars?"

"It's a classic," he defends, scooting closer and reaching for her limbs once more, but she sits up before he can.

His feet had been propped up on the coffee table earlier so she copies the recent position and presses her shoulder against his. The touching is innocent, just like it was in the movie theater when she had her head on his shoulder, but then Castle slips his arm around her shoulders, allowing her head to rest on the broad plain of his chest instead.

Not quite as innocent.

He keeps his eyes trained on the television and she's grateful for the lack of attention, for the chance to evaluate her choices without pressure. But there isn't really a choice for her to make, she's where she wants to be, and she relaxes into his side, drops her cheek to his sternum.

The hint of tension Castle had adopted evaporates and he occupies the hand at her back with her hair, twirling strands around his fingers. She hums, smiling and content, and attributes half of her concentration to the Jedi on the screen, allows the rest of herself to savor the fresh scent of soap and clean laundry that he carries with him.

Friends can cuddle, she reasons, there's nothing wrong or intimate about cuddling.

* * *

She resents her reasoning hours later when she wakes in unfamiliar darkness. The sound of a door opening and softly clicking shut has her brow furrowing, the sound of heels tapping across the floor pulling her mind from sleep. The noise stops and Kate feels a warm weight drape over her back. She nuzzles the hard mass of her pillow in confusion as the clacking of the heels starts again before it disappears into the distance.

The sweet pull of sleep calls for her like a siren song and she doesn't fight, quickly falling back into the sea, but then ropes wrap around her, holding her in place, anchoring her, and her eyes snap open.

Castle.

Not ropes, arms. He's cradling her to his body and snuggling her closer and she really could fall back to sleep, but no. This is too much, a predicament far more inappropriate than cuddling or holding hands. This was wrong.

So why didn't it _feel _wrong at all?

Kate pushes up on her elbows, finding herself hovering directly above him, their bodies aligned in all the ways that they shouldn't be. She tries not to wake him up as she reaches for her phone on the coffee table, cursing under her breath when she realizes it's almost five a.m.

"Kate?" His hoarse voice breaks through the stillness of the fading night. "S'wrong?"

"Nothing," she whispers, attempting to sit up only to realize her legs are tangled with his under the quilt his mother covered them with. Damn.

Underneath the disorientation and the inner turmoil though, she feels unexpected appreciation for Martha and the motherly gesture she hasn't experienced in so long. She wishes she could linger in the feeling, linger in the warmth that comes with being wrapped up in him.

"Where are you going?" he grunts, rubbing at his eyes, but she touches her fingers to his forehead without thinking, brushes back the disheveled hair, as if she can coax him back into unconsciousness with the gentle sweep of her fingertips.

"It's early, I need to go home," she murmurs, pulling her hand back and hoping he can go back to sleep, maybe transfer over to his bedroom without emerging from the fog of slumber. But Rick sits up, blinking through the fading remnants of drowsiness and glancing down to the blanket pooled around their waists in confusion.

"Your mom," she explains, finally able to extricate herself from the intricate tangle of their bodies without any awkward touches or eye contact.

Kate stands from the couch, stretching her arms above her head and popping her back before going on the hunt for her shoes in the moonlit darkness. She hears Castle yawn as she locates her heels behind the couch where she left them and tries to brush her hair down with her fingers as she steps into the shoes and snags her jacket from the chair near the kitchen while Castle shuffles past her, towards the fridge.

She chuckles as he reappears from behind the stainless steel doors, munching on a cold piece of pizza. He holds the slice of pepperoni up to her in offering, but she waves him off.

"Do you want anything before you go?" he asks after a swallow, waving his arm over the opened refrigerator. "I could make you an early bird breakfast."

"Thanks, Castle. But I think I'm just going to catch a cab back to my place and crawl into bed until it's light outside or I get a call from dispatch."

"You could stay here," he suggests, holding his hand up in placation when her eyebrows hitch. "We have a guest bedroom upstairs that's always available for your use."

Kate smiles, soft and a little mournful, because she thinks if she was single and not so close to making a huge mistake, she would accept his offer.

"I don't think it's a good idea," she murmurs and his eyes dim as he understands, but he nods before she can say anymore.

"Are you sure you can get a cab at this hour?"

"I've learned you can get a cab at any hour in this city," she answers with a hint of a grin, trying to lighten the mood she's darkened with the reality of their situation.

Castle finishes his pizza, rinses his hands in the sink, and joins her on the walk to his front door.

"I'll see you?" he asks, timid and hopeful, like he's expecting rejection. She doesn't want to reject him, but she isn't sure they can keep doing this, not when every time she sees him her stomach is set alight with butterflies doused in flames, burning her insides in the most pleasant way.

She doesn't like playing with fire, but she likes _him, _and she selfishly refuses to abandon the beauty of the flames.

Kate leans forward, plants a kiss to his cheek.

"I'll see you," she confirms before opening his front door and slipping down the hall, into the elevator, and out onto the streets, where the tease of the sun greets her on the horizon and the black of night disintegrates into the shadows.


	6. Chapter 6

"Hey."

Lanie startles, the files she had been carrying falling from her arm and slapping against the floor. Her best friend glares up at her as she bends down to scoop the papers from the ground.

"I told you to stop doing that," Lanie admonishes. "You could at least let me know you're coming by and stop scaring me to death."

"You're surrounded by corpses all day," Kate points out.

"And I don't expect the living after seven, especially on one of my slabs."

Kate holds out the second cup of coffee in her hand as a peace offering and Lanie takes it without hesitation, but the reprimanding twist of her lips doesn't leave as she drops her recovered armful of files at her desk.

"Word is you've got a new man, which would explain why you've been avoiding my phone calls this past week."

Lanie gives her a pointed glare, but Beckett rolls her eyes. "Why do you buy into the rumors Esposito feeds you about my love life?"

"Because you don't feed me the truth about your love life."

Kate huffs, swings her legs back and forth from her seat atop the cool, metal slab. "He saw me leave early _once_. He jumped to a conclusion."

"Then what are you doing here?" Lanie counters.

Kate chews on her lower lip, tearing the flesh raw over the last few days. She had intended to confide in Lanie about Rick sooner or later, but she had never expected her friendship with him to grow into something worthy of a girl talk session.

"You know I'm with Josh," she starts as Lanie hops onto the slab across from her, mirroring her position and sipping at her macchiato.

"Yes, whom you're super bored with."

"Maybe," Kate hedges, because it's not the first time Lanie's contributed her thoughts on the relationship with Josh. Lanie seems just as bored of hearing about it as Kate is of discussing it. But she's never outright agreed with Lanie's opinion on her current boyfriend, and her best friend arches an eyebrow at the sudden change.

"Oh… don't tell me Javi was right. You stepping out on your hot doctor?"

"No," she hisses. "That's - that's kind of the problem."

"Okay, wait," Lanie demands, setting her coffee down and raising a hand between them. "Start from the beginning and tell me exactly what's going on."

Kate digs her elbows into her thighs and buries her fingers in her hair.

"I met this guy at the post office about two weeks ago," she sighs. "He gave me his number after we talked in the waiting line and I never called. I - I wanted to call, but I didn't. And then a few days later, I ran into him at a coffee shop and I called him that same night. We stayed on the phone for hours," she confesses, rubbing her temples through her rambling. "And we went out to lunch the next day and to the movies a week later and I was at his loft last night-"

"You stayed at his _loft_?"

"For a movie," Kate defends, glaring down at her boots. "And I didn't stay. I left after the movie ended." Lanie doesn't need to know about how she fell asleep on him for the second time in three days and woke up entangled in his arms.

"You like him, don't you?"

Kate finally looks up from her lap. Lanie's watching her with a strange combination of amusement and sympathy in her eyes and a good dose of a lecture that's sure to be expressed within the next few minutes and Kate sighs.

"We're just friends."

"But?"

"I care about him."

Lanie narrows her eyes at her and Beckett huffs.

"I wish I was single," she admits under her breath.

"Honey, if that's what you want, you should just break up with Josh."

"How?" she groans. "I can't just dump him while he's out there saving lives."

"Well, from what I'm hearing, you're on the verge of cheating on him." Kate swallows hard, shame swimming in her stomach. "And I know you're not okay with that."

"I'm not," she lets out. "Things between Josh and I fell apart a long time ago and I know I should have ended it before he left for Haiti, but we hardly saw each other around our schedules, and I felt he at least deserved this conversation in person."

"When was the last time you even spoke to Josh?" Lanie challenges and Kate tries to think back, feels another dose of guilt wash through her when she realizes she honestly can't remember.

"I don't - I don't know. Probably sometime before I met Rick."

"Rick, huh?"

Lanie's smirking, but Kate waves her off even as a grin threatens to claim her own lips.

"He texted me the other day, when he received the care package he asked me to send."

"See, that right there is a sign you don't want to be in this relationship."

Kate's brow furrows. "What are you talking about? What sign?"

"He had to _ask _you to send him a care package. If you were in love with Doctor Dreamy, you'd have sent him one without him even having to mention it," Lanie says and Kate knows it's true, feels the all too familiar shame growing stronger, swirling like a whirlpool in her stomach, twisting around in her gut.

Things had been strained months before Haiti. The lack of time together, the increasing arguments, the constant trips overseas – all aiding in bringing them closer and closer to a breakup. They were teetering on the edge when he accepted the trip to Haiti, but he had promised they would discuss it when he got back. But there was nothing to discuss. She's always known Josh isn't 'the one'.

She hadn't been in a rush to end things though, content to wait until her boyfriend returned to finally say goodbye to him for good, but she hadn't expected to find someone like Rick while he was gone, while she was still trapped in a relationship.

She's currently anything but content.

"Has he told you when he's coming back yet?"

Kate sighs and hops down from the table. "No. I don't think it'll be too much longer though."

"Do you think you can resist _Rick_ until then?" Lanie teases.

Kate rolls her eyes. "You make it sound as if I can't control myself around him."

"Well, can you?"

Kate stops, truly considering the question, and bites her lip.

"Oh no. You got it bad for this one, don't you?"

"No," Kate protests, receiving a disbelieving glare in return. "He's just - he's… it's easy with him, you know? It's never felt so comfortable so quickly with any of my other boyfriends, with Josh. After the newness wears off, it's just…"

"Dull?" Lanie fills in, still with an edge of amusement to her voice, but always understanding. Lanie knows her track record with men, her bad luck with relationships and the self-imposed issues that always stand in her way, but she never judges, and that's why Kate showed up at the morgue tonight.

"Yeah," Kate murmurs. "I know we're not together, and it's only been two weeks, but he makes me…" She blushes, chews on her thumbnail at the thought of him, and oh god, she does have it bad.

"He makes you happy if that look is any indication," Lanie smiles. "Do you get the same love struck look every time he calls you too? Because the boys said-"

"Will you stop taking news from Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum?" Kate huffs, causing Lanie to laugh.

"Well, I like the sound of this guy, Beckett. But I would just be careful for now."

"Careful?"

"I'd bet money that if you weren't still with Josh, you'd have kissed this guy by now, am I right?"

_Definitely._

Kate shrugs. "Maybe."

"Liar," Lanie mutters. "My point is, you're already toeing the line. If you don't want to make a move – accidental or not – before Josh gets back, I'd just watch myself around this Rick."

Kate swallows and stares down at her coffee cup. There have already been instances in which she's wanted to cross that line Lanie speaks of with Rick, close calls where she's had to violently remind herself she is not allowed to. Not yet.

"I'll try to cut back on our time together," Kate murmurs, feeling ridiculous when her spirits drop at the idea. "It shouldn't be too long."

"Don't you dare distance yourself," Lanie warns and Kate lifts her eyes in accusation, ready to argue against the contradictory words, but Lanie lifts a finger to silence her. "Not in the physical sense. But I know you, Kate Beckett, and you close yourself off to people who are important to you without even realizing it sometimes. If this guy means something to you, you won't do that to him."

Kate slips her jacket on, this conversation turning to be more confusing than helpful, and gives Lanie a quick embrace.

"Beckett," Lanie scolds, but Kate waves her off.

"I'll figure it out, Lanie. Don't worry."

It's a lie and they both know it. She doesn't know what the hell she's doing.


	7. Chapter 7

Something's changed and he doesn't understand why. He calls her every night, just like he always has, and she answers, but always has an excuse to end the call within minutes. He knows rejection and he knows when he's being avoided and Kate Beckett is currently hitting him with both. Silly, he thinks, that the woman who's not even his is making his chest ache so sharply with her dismissals.

Showing up at her apartment building unannounced is probably not a good idea, he's not even sure which apartment is hers, but he isn't ready to let her go and any other form of contact is not working in his favor.

"Hey, Castle," she greets when he calls from her lobby. "I'm kind of busy, so-"

"Save it, I'm downstairs." Direct, straight to the point, that's how he plans to fix this. If there's anything left to fix. They tiptoe around their precarious friendship with subtle looks and bouts of subtext and he understands the reasons why, but some things cannot be solved with subtly.

"You're… in my building?"

"Yes, now please give me your apartment number because I'm starting to earn some weird looks from your neighbors."

He hears her sigh, long and tired, but she still gives in. "327."

The idea of waiting patiently in an elevator doesn't appeal to him, so he takes the three flights of stairs, using the climb to think, prepare his words for her. She's waiting in the open doorway of her apartment when he reaches the hall, arms crossed, lips pursed. Not happy.

"Just because you know where I live does not give you the right to just show up," she snaps once he's standing in front of her, but the bite of her words doesn't affect him and he merely shrugs.

"How else am I supposed to talk to you, Kate? You've been ignoring me for the past few days." The angry line of her lips turns down, guilty. "You could have just told me you were sick of talking to me, no need to play games," he mutters. The sting of rejection from her shouldn't be so intense. Everyone eventually grows bored of him, he should be used to it by now. But he had sworn she was different.

"No," she murmurs, her voice suddenly soft as she catches his arm, draws him through the doorway. "Castle, that's not - god, that's not it at all. Come inside."

He sighs, but grudgingly allows her to guide him into her home. He's never seen the inside of her apartment until now, and he wants to admire the space, the pieces of her splayed across the walls and on shelves. He wants to explore the bookcase in the living room, study the paintings lining the walls, learn the history behind every knick-knack cluttering almost every flat surface, but that isn't why he's here.

"I wasn't trying to hurt you," she starts while she leads him into the living room, sitting down on the couch in front of the row of windows, but he doesn't join her and remains standing across the space, using distance to his advantage for a change.

They're not even together and this already feels like a breakup.

"Then what exactly were you doing, Kate? Because one day we're fine and then suddenly you're treating me like I'm not worth your time. So please, enlighten me."

He watches as she buries her fingers in her hair, digs her nails into her scalp as she takes a deep breath. She looks small in leggings that end at her calves and a long t-shirt that flows to her thighs. He's never seen her out of her work clothes, without the armor of her leather jackets and button up blouses. For once the playing field feels even.

"I care about you, and you've - you've made it clear that you care about me, but I'm not a good person to get involved with, Rick."

He props his hip against the armchair next to him and crosses his arms. "It's kind of late for that."

"But it's not too late to cut your losses," she counters, looking up at him with sadness in her eyes that he's never been able to understand. "Aside from the fact that I have a boyfriend, I have so much baggage. There's so much - I can't expect you to stick around when I'm so…" She shakes her head, the loss for words creasing lines of frustration in her skin. "I'll hurt you, I already have."

"Kate, everyone comes with baggage, you know that. But I'm your friend and I-"

She huffs, agitation flashing in her eyes. "Is that what we are?"

The alarm bells sounds in his head, the warning that he is wading into dangerous territory.

"I thought so," he says calmly. "But honestly? I don't know what we are. For all I know, I'm just a distraction from your crumbling relationship."

Her eyes come alight with fire and oh yeah, he's past dangerous territory and forged on into full on disaster zone.

"Is that what you think?" she growls, shooting up from the sofa and stalking towards him. "That I'm just using you?"

She's intimidating when she's angry, he notes. Her lips purse and her nostrils flare and the vein in her forehead throbs barely noticeable beneath her skin. He should not be turned on by any of these traits, but Kate Beckett simmering with rage calls to him. Arguments with women of his past always had him walking away with irritation, but Kate… he just wants to soothe her with his mouth, absorb her frustrations with his body.

But she doesn't want that.

"You said it yourself, you leave one foot out the door, Kate. I think you know that you want to shut the door on your relationship with Josh completely, but that would leave you available for a chance with someone else, wouldn't it?" he challenges, noticing the harsh clench of her jaw and the bitter sheen to her eyes. "And you already know that if you were single, I would have…" He bites his tongue, takes a step back from her before he reveals too much. That's always his problem; he lays it all out, wears his heart on his sleeve and allows his vulnerability to destroy him. Not this time. "I can be your friend, Kate, but don't let me think there's ever a chance for more when there really isn't."

She gapes at him for a second and then shakes her head, wraps her arms around her body and hugs herself tightly. His heart clenches without his permission, and he wonders if maybe he's being unfair, maybe he's been reading her wrong and she's never shown any interest or attraction towards him at all. Maybe it was all wishful thinking.

"You barely even know me," she whispers through gritted teeth.

He shrugs, the action casual, but the lift of his shoulders causes his bruised heart to bump and shudder against his chest. "I wanted to."

"Past tense?" she says, voice uneven and rough, scratching against him like sandpaper.

"That's up to you," he murmurs, turning for the door. It isn't what he wants to do, but this conversation has already gone in the worst possible direction and he doesn't want to do anymore damage. Doesn't want anymore done to him.

He's reaching for the door handle when her fingers close around his wrist. He hadn't heard her follow him, her bare feet making her soundless on the wooden floors.

"I'm sorry," she croaks before clearing her throat and looking up, meeting his eyes with genuine regret swirling in hers. "Don't go."

He doesn't expect it when her arms band around his waist. She's always been so careful not to hug him, wary to even touch him most of the time, and although she's never elaborated on why, he's had a feeling he's known, because he shares the sentiment. He didn't want to know what he was missing, what he can't have, and now he doesn't want to let Kate Beckett go.

"I don't know what we are either," she confesses into his shirt, pressing her forehead into the bones of his sternum. "But I want the chance to figure it out."

He's not sure whether the breath he releases is of frustration or relief. It doesn't matter though, does it? Even if she rejected his feelings right then, told him there was never a chance for more but she still wanted him around, he'd stay.

He's pretty sure she's ruining him for anyone else.

"Tell me what you need," he murmurs, curving his palms over her shoulders and resting his chin atop her head. He's never really noticed their height difference, not when she's always strutting around in stilettos with heels that rise high like spikes, but without the footwear, she fits well against him. Another thing he probably would have been better off without knowing.

She swallows. "I need to break up with Josh."

His heart stops before starting up again with fervor.

"I support this plan."

She chuckles, a small, watery sound, and nuzzles his clavicle before going silent, contemplative. "But Castle, you should know that I have this - this wall built up inside, and I'm afraid that I'm not going to be able to have the kind of relationship I want until it comes down."

And his heart sinks again. Breaking up with her boyfriend is one thing, an easy obstacle to overcome, but deconstructing the years of bricks built around her heart – that's another challenge entirely. One he's not sure he can help her accomplish.

"What do you need to take down the wall?" he murmurs, carding his fingers through the locks of her hair.

She sighs, curls her fingers into the fabric of his shirt. "I don't know if I'll ever get it."

There's more to the story than she's letting on and his desire to know is almost unbearable, but he swallows it down. She's never been this open with him, but he can't push too hard or he could have her running back behind those walls she spoke of all too quickly.

"Then I will find a way inside the wall," he declares, planting a determined kiss to the top of her head. "I'll build a door or put up a ladder or dig a hole-"

She dislodges her head from beneath his chin, looks up at him with glittering eyes that shimmer with hope. Her hands rise to cradle his face and he fears she may try to kiss him, but she only lifts on her toes, holds him there while she rests her forehead to his and takes a long, calming breath.

"Thank you, Castle. For being here."

He covers the hands at his jaw, twines his fingers through hers. He wants to tell her there really isn't a choice anymore, not when it comes to her. He came here tonight intending to walk away if it was what proved best for both of them, but he already wants her too much, yearns for her in a way he can't recall ever feeling for another woman. He thought she was different, and she is.

"Always."

Her eyes fall closed, but she smiles, the pearls of her teeth peeking out from the slit of her lips.

"I'm sorry it's so complicated," she sighs, dropping back to the soles of her feet, but Rick shakes his head against the apology. The hardest things in life are the things most worth doing, as his mother always says.

"You're worth every complication, Kate."


	8. Chapter 8

In an attempt to make up for her argument with Rick and to rid Lanie of her doubts, she invites Castle to her weekly girl's lunch with her best friend during their shared lunch break.

"Are you sure she's okay with this?" Castle asks as they walk down the sidewalk together, heading towards the restaurant in East Village. When she had called him the night before and asked if he was okay with the suggestion, he had seemed flattered, and he'd appeared excited when she had picked him up outside his loft just a few minutes ago, but now, he's apparently not so sure if this is such a good idea. She's still getting used to the fact that he's not as confident as his cocky, public persona implies.

"Yes, Rick. Lanie can't wait to meet you," she assures him, but it doesn't ease the obvious nerves. She wonders how he would react to meeting someone in her life of even higher importance, like her father.

Not that she should be thinking about that right now while her dad still believes she's content in her relationship with 'the surgeon guy'.

Kate curls her hand around the crease of Castle's elbow and paints her thumb in circles over the covered skin as they reach the deli's entrance and she pulls open the door. Lanie is in a booth by the window and spots them the second they walk in, waving her over with a little too much enthusiasm.

Kate releases Rick to hug her best friend before stepping back to Castle's side and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Lanie, this is Richard Castle. Rick, this is my best friend Lanie Parish."

"Girl, you called him Rick. You never mentioned the fact that he was Rick Castle, the _author_," Lanie squeaks and Kate motions for her to keep her voice down. She's learned that Castle attempts to retain a low profile when he goes out, especially when he's with her or his family, and Lanie winces in apology before taking Castle's hand and giving it a firm shake.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Castle," she says in a whisper, a sly smile spread across her pink lips. Kate rolls her eyes at the devious grin and retracts her hand from Castle's back, crossing her arms over her chest instead.

"You can call me Rick, or Castle, as Kate prefers," he chuckles, charming Lanie with a smile she's seen plastered across papers and book jackets. It's a nice smile, but it's not the beaming, lopsided grin that makes her chest flutter.

Her best friend looks to her with a quirked eyebrow as the three of them settle into the booth, Beckett not touching Castle's side, but not leaving much space between them either. It's not her fault though, the booth is just small.

"So Rick, how'd you two meet?" Lanie asks, far more polite than usual. The ME has met a few of her beaus in the past, not many, but enough for Kate to know what to expect of her best friend. But in the rare instances Lanie has been introduced to a man in Kate's life, she's never been this _nice_.

Kate huffs and flips her menu open in front of her. "I told you we met at the post office a few weeks ago."

Lanie dismisses her with a wave of her hand. "Your version's boring."

Castle smirks and folds his hands in front of him, as if settling in for a long bout of storytelling.

"Well, it was a hot, rainy morning when I entered the post office to mail my daughter a package-"

"You have a daughter?" Lanie questions, arching an eyebrow in surprise, and Castle nods, but doesn't elaborate any further.

"The line wasn't long, only a few people ahead of me, but while I was waiting, I heard someone else enter the building. Kate walked in, shook the droplets of rain from the damp mane of her hair-"

"Castle." Kate nudges him with her elbow. Master storyteller or not, she doesn't need him to paint some overly perfect picture for Lanie to tease her about later.

"She stood behind me in line," he continues with the hint of another smirk curving at the corners of his mouth. "Minding her own business until I annoyed her into a conversation."

Kate chuckles, the memory of their meeting actually far more special to her than he'll ever know. It still strikes her sometimes that it was only three weeks ago when it feels like she's known him for so much longer, still strikes her that Richard Castle has become so important to her in a way that has nothing to do with his novels, all due to a chance meeting in the post office of all places. She bites her lip, hiding a secret smile and not bothering to berate him as he goes on, recounting every detail of their brief morning meeting.

"And then she turned me down," he concludes as Lanie listens on in amusement.

"Of course she did, she has a boyfriend," Lanie throws in, light and teasing, but Kate feels him bristle beside her. It's barely noticeable, Lanie doesn't catch it, but Beckett does, and she slides her hand to his knee under the table, squeezes it in something between comfort and apology. Castle doesn't look at her, but covers her hand for a brief moment before returning it to the tabletop.

Lanie decides it's time for a topic change, thankfully, and goes on to ask Castle about his books, but as Kate had expected, Lanie starts a subtle interrogation after they place their orders, grilling Rick on his playboy status that's been strewn across papers in the past, tactfully questioning his intentions and integrity until Kate has to growl her name under her breath for Lanie to stop.

Rick sighs in relief and Kate squeezes his knee under the table once again - having not moved it in the first place - appreciating his good sportsmanship. Eventually, conversation drifts to Lanie's job, which Castle reveals he finds fascinating. The interest has Lanie flattered and she pours out so much information for Castle that he decides to take notes and Kate has to dig a pen out of her purse so he can write it all down on a napkin.

"If you ever have any more questions, you just give me a call, sweetie," Lanie grins once Rick's filled two napkins, front and back, with answers to questions he's had concerning the anatomy of a body post-mortem. He didn't notice when his food was delivered, and he hardly touched the roast beef sandwich in favor of educating himself, and now they have to leave in five minutes.

Lanie downs the last of her water and cleans her fingers on one of the few unmarked napkins left on the table.

"I'll see you later with those preliminary results," Lanie tells Kate as she slips from the booth.

"You guys have a new case?" Castle asks, excitement – as always – glimmering in his eyes.

"Yep, found a guy burnt to a crisp in a pizza oven."

Castle gapes and Kate smothers her laugh.

"How did you two eat without gagging?" he questions, glancing between Kate and Lanie's empty plates with incredulous disgust.

"Says the man who asked for a detailed walkthrough of the dissection of the chest cavity in the middle of lunch," she mutters, wrinkling her nose. She wasn't usually weak stomached when it came to the gory details of Lanie's job, but she'd had to tune out that conversation while she ate her turkey wrap in order to keep the meal down.

Castle shrugs in a halfhearted apology.

"By the look on your face, I think you may want to ask for a to go box," Kate adds, watching as he grimaces at his barely touched sandwich.

"Yes, definitely," he mumbles as he flags down a waitress.

Lanie smirks at her while Rick requests the box, her eyes sparkling with wicked amusement and glee. Kate shoots Lanie a glare before Castle can notice and the ME winks back before reaching past her to give Castle's shoulder a final squeeze.

"It was wonderful to meet you, Rick."

He smiles, looking so proud of himself for making a good impression on Lanie.

"Likewise."

"Enjoy your lunch," Lanie calls over her shoulder as she saunters away and out the door.

Rick glares at his sandwich in response, not noticing the waitress holding out the styrofoam box for him. Kate chuckles and thanks the woman, scoops his sandwich from his plate and deposits it neatly into the takeout box.

"C'mon Castle, let's go before I'm late."

"I'll catch a cab back to my place," he says as they walk outside. "There's no need for you to drive all the way to SoHo and back."

She sighs, knowing he's right. She only has fifteen minutes before she has to return to the precinct - she's lucky she was able to have an hour for lunch in the first place - and she knows she won't make it in time if she has to drop him off at the loft too.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, now go, catch the guy who ruined my appetite."

She laughs and catches his free hand, leading him down the sidewalk towards her Crown Vic while thrusting her unoccupied arm into the air to flag down a cab for him.

"Thanks for inviting me, Kate," he murmurs when one slows before them. "I had a really good time."

"Even through the interrogation portion of the meal?" she questions with a grin.

"You sure she isn't a cop, too?"

She chuckles. "Nah, she's just looking out for me. But believe me, she liked you."

That pleased, little boy smile returns and Kate touches her lips to his cheek out of habit. Castle hums and wraps an arm around her waist, hugging her body to his until the cab driver smacks his horn and Kate jumps away, laughing quietly as Rick waves a hand at the impatient man.

"Talk to you tonight?" he assumes as he tugs the cab's door open.

She nods in reply, wriggles her fingers in a wave once he's slid inside and pulled the door closed after him.

She's just settled in her cruiser and turned the engine on when she gets a text from Lanie.

_Dump Doctor Motorcycle Boy for him. Now._

Beckett rolls her eyes and rests her head back against her seat. The air conditioner comes to life, struggling a couple of times before finally blowing a steady stream of hot air in her face and she sighs, rubs her hands over her eyes while she waits for the old car to cool. Lanie's text stated the same thought that's plagued her mind for the last three weeks.

The sooner the Josh returns from Haiti, the better.


	9. Chapter 9

She growls, crumples the paper into a bulky wad, and exhales in satisfaction as she tosses it into the trash.

"Everything okay, Beckett?"

Kate glances up from her desk to see Ryan and Esposito leaning over theirs, watching her in curious concern.

"Fine," she replies, and she is. She's perfectly fine. She doesn't care that the Ledger is claiming Richard Castle has rekindled his relationship with his _second_ ex-wife and former flame, Gina Cowell, doesn't care that there's a picture of the two of them out to dinner together looking cozy and content in each other's company. Why would that bother her whatsoever?

She scribbles her signature on the bottom of a form with a little too much force, the indention of her name cutting into the page beneath.

Kate bites her lip and rises from her seat, heads for the break room, where Ryan and Esposito can't make subtle attempts at studying her like they think she's about to snap.

She really has no reason to be jealous – _not _that she is – but seeing him with another woman after all the time they've been spending together… it stings.

She clears the coffeemaker of its remaining grinds, dumps the stale liquid from the pot into the sink, cursing when it splashes up and stains the edges of her blouse.

Jealousy is the last thing she should be allowed to feel, especially when she herself is the reason they can't be together. She's tethered to someone else, so naturally he's entitled to be with another woman, but she had thought that after the talk they'd had in her apartment two nights ago - after their first fight - he had intended to wait for her. It's stupid, and selfish, and not fair to him at all, but she thought she had made it clear that he wouldn't be waiting for nothing. She wants to break up with Josh, and when she does, she wants her shot with Rick.

That shot seems to have vanished now.

Kate gives up on her coffee and abandons the pot in the sink, props her hip against the sharp edge of the counter and tries to will herself into resignation.

If he's happy with Gina, she'll support it. It's her only choice.

"Hey Beckett?" She checks over her shoulder to see Esposito standing hesitant in the doorway. "Some guy's in the lobby asking for you."

Oh no. He wouldn't have…

"Did he give a name?"

Esposito's eyes flicker down to a yellow sticky note in his hand. "Just Rick. No last name."

She sighs, pinches the bridge of her nose between her thumb and her forefinger. Of all the days he decides to cash in on her halfhearted offer to visit, he chooses now?

"Hey, you want me to have him escorted out?"

The protective, big brother tone is in his voice and Kate quickly shakes her head. She doesn't want Espo to have a bad first impression of Castle just because she's being irrational.

"No, no, just tell the desk sergeant to send him up."

Esposito narrows his eyes on her. "You sure?"

"He's a friend, Javi."

Delight replaces skepticism and he leans against the wall with a smug grin. "A male friend, hmm? Got something you want to share, Beckett?"

She huffs, attempts to bite back her smile.

"Will you just tell Anderson to send him up? Then you can gossip with Ryan all about this."

He scowls at her and turns on his heel.

"We don't _gossip_." She hears him grumble as he shuffles back into the bullpen.

Kate settles back against the break room counter, tries to pull herself together before Castle comes in and figures it out for himself. Because he knows her and he's become infuriatingly good at reading her with less than a second glance.

She catches sight of him through the open blinds of the break room window, his head swiveling all around, taking in the precinct with wide eyes. She chuckles despite herself, feeling that warm surge of affection flare in her chest, and she pushes off the counter, strides out to meet him. The broad, excited smile he gives her eradicates the lingering traces of jealousy – okay fine, she's jealous – and she doesn't think twice about smiling back.

"I brought you coffee," he says, offering up the Starbucks cup. "Grande skim latte, two pumps of sugar free vanilla."

"How did you know that?" she asks as she accepts the cup from him and guides him over to her desk. She steals an unoccupied chair from another cop's workstation and settles it beside her desk for him. He seems utterly pleased about that as he sits down.

"I'm a novelist. It's my job to notice things," he quips, but his attention is back to marveling over her the walls of her workplace. "Beckett, this place is so _cool_."

"It's a police station," she deadpans.

"But the authenticity is inspiring."

She rolls her eyes, takes a sip of her coffee, and sighs in contentment. So much better than break room sludge, not that she was doing a great job of making herself a cup of said break room sludge in the first place. Maybe his timing wasn't so bad after all.

"What are you doing here?"

He shrugs. "I was lonely? And your text from earlier said it was a slow day here since you nailed that woman behind the whole drug smuggling pizza case, so I figured it wouldn't be a bad time to surprise you."

"You know I hate surprises," she mutters, flipping through the paperwork she should have been doing earlier. "Besides, aren't you supposed to be writing?"

"Not you too," he whines, pressing his fingers to his eye sockets and leaning back in his new seat. "I hear the same words from my mother and publisher on an hourly basis, even Alexis lectured me about it this morning."

"Maybe they all have a point," she says with a curved brow, but he brushes her off, turns his attention elsewhere.

"What's this?" Her heart rate spikes with horror as he retrieves the newspaper sticking up from the trash. "I thought you recycled."

"I - I do, I just-"

A smile suddenly begins to spread across his lips and she's torn between smacking the knowing smirk from his mouth and running back to the break room to hide.

"Not a fan of the article on Page Six?" he inquires, his tone innocent, but his eyes are dark and he's leaning in and people are starting to stare. Inviting him here in the first place was such a bad idea.

"Yo Beckett, hate to interrupt your meet and greet, but we got a fresh one." Esposito is grinning from ear to ear as he informs her and although her cheeks are flaming and her mouth feels dry, she gives Castle an apologetic look.

"Can I walk you out?"

He surprises her by rising without argument, leaving the paper folded down on her desk. She realizes he must be aware of the eyes on them and the unwanted attention he's brought her, because he waves to the cluster of inquisitive officers while they walk to the elevators. Including Ryan and Esposito, who studiously avoid her when she glares at them through the closing elevator doors.

"It's kind of like a fishbowl in there," he comments.

She sighs, scrubs a hand across her forehead. "Yeah, they'll be ribbing me about this for days."

"That what happened the first time you brought Josh around?"

Kate shifts her weight as the lift begins to descend. "He's picked me up once or twice, but I've never really brought him inside."

She feels him step closer to her, feels the heat of his body growing stronger until he's standing right in front of her. She reluctantly meets his eyes, level with hers since she's in her highest pair of heels.

"About the paper-"

"Castle, I don't-"

He quiets her with a hand at her jaw, his thumb at her lips.

"It's only a rumor, Kate. No truth behind it." His voice is soft, assuring, not condescending, no longer smug. "Gina's my publisher, we discuss work over dinners sometimes, but that's all we discuss anymore."

The doors are about to open, but he still takes the time to tilt forward, plant a kiss to her forehead.

She doesn't realize that her eyes have drifted shut until she hears the elevator doors slide open and senses him walking away.

"Rick," she calls out, following him through the lobby, ignoring the desk sergeant's gaze on them. She hooks her fingers in the crook of his elbow just before he reaches the exit. "I'm sorry I was even… I have no right to feel-"

"Neither do I," he interrupts her with a sad smile. "But I'm always jealous of him."

Castle unhooks her fingers from his arm, squeezes them once before letting her go. "Good luck with the case." And then he's walking through the glass doors.

For a second too long, she's left watching him disappear into the sea of people littering the sidewalk.


	10. Chapter 10

Castle shows up on Kate's Beckett's doorstep with a bouquet of flowers. He hadn't planned on seeing her today, and he hopes she doesn't mind, but on his way home from Black Pawn, he had noticed the vibrant bursts of yellows and purples and oranges on a vender's display and couldn't resist picking some up for her.

But he immediately regrets the decision when she answers his eager knocks with bloodshot eyes and wet lashes.

"Hey, Castle," she offers, swiping the heel of her palm across her cheek to dispose of a stray tear.

"Kate? What's the matter? Are you okay?" he shoots out question after question without thinking, but she just shakes her head, scrapes an unsteady hand through her hair.

"I'm fine. Today just hasn't been too great." Her eyes fall to the flowers in curiosity.

"Oh, I got these for you," he says dumbly, thrusting the arrangement forward, like a graceless idiot.

But Kate doesn't seem to mind his lack of finesse, accepts the flowers with a soft smile. "That's really sweet," she murmurs, the cellophane crinkling against the cradle of her arm. "They're beautiful. Thank you."

Her eyes abandon the flowers to meet his and he stiffens, realizes he's just been staring at her this entire time.

"I'll, uh - go now," he stammers, hooking his thumb over his shoulder, but Kate catches his arm, ushers him in.

"You're already here," she rasps before she can clear her throat. "And I don't mind the company."

He could have sighed in relief.

"How was the meeting with Black Pawn?" she asks from the kitchen as she extracts an elegant, white vase from a cabinet.

"Boring," he mutters and she chuckles, arranging the flowers in the vase so that they spread like a kaleidoscope of colors. "I'm sort of on the verge of being let go."

She stops in the middle of the kitchen. "What?"

He didn't want to talk about it, doesn't even know why he's allowed himself to speak a word of it to her when there's obviously something's bothering her that he doesn't plan to ignore.

"Rick," she presses, standing in front of him now, concern coloring her glassy hazel eyes.

"I haven't produced any new material in a long time. After I killed off Derrick Storm, I failed to find inspiration for a new story, so I worked on the graphic novels and some short stories here and there. It's been over two years, they want a new book, a new series."

"You don't have any ideas?" she questions, not demanding, not like Gina and the rest of the people at the meeting had been. _Just write something_, they had all told him in exasperation, like creating a new world, new characters, and new plotlines was the easiest thing in the world.

"I have bits and pieces of different things, but nothing worthy of turning into an actual story."

She purses her lips, furrows her brow, and he knows that look, knows she's trying to think, brainstorming like he's seen her do plenty of times. "Well, what do you want to write about? There has to be something."

She's right, there is something he's been secretly writing about in his free time – _someone_ – but he isn't sure how she'll take it.

Castle shrugs, maybe if he plays it off as casual, there will be less of a risk of her getting upset. "You."

She blinks, surprised, but then she swallows, ducks her head to hide the subtle blush crawling up her neck to her cheeks.

"That's a start, I guess," she murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I was thinking, maybe you could help me," he starts hesitantly, but she looks up at him, like she's actually willing to consider whatever he's about to suggest. "Lately, when I do actually write, I write about this female homicide detective. She's smart and savvy and really hot." She scoffs, bumps his shoulder as she passes him. "I wasn't serious about it before, but this is the first character I've actually felt passionate about writing since Derrick Storm."

Kate leans back against the arm of the couch, crosses her arms over her chest, assessing him. "And how would I help you?"

"Research," he grins, but the arc of her eyebrow demands he elaborate. "I have a few ideas for a case. We could go over them together, you could help me with the technicalities, maybe even read over what I have so far before I show it to Gina."

He expects reluctance, even outright rejection, but he swears he spots a flicker of excitement in Beckett's eyes. He wonders if there is even the slightest chance that she could be a fan of his work.

The eager shine of her eyes simmers into indifference as she shrugs. "Sure, Castle. I wouldn't mind."

He claps his hands together. "Perfect! If this works out, I'll write you the best dedication ever."

She rolls her eyes, but doesn't resist him when he finds her hands, hauls her up from the couch.

"Now, are you going to tell me what's wrong?" She sighs, as if she was expecting it, and retracts one of her hands from his to knead her fingers into her eye socket. "C'mon, Kate, sharing is good," he needles, receiving a glare for it.

She turns away from him, starts leading him out of the living room. "I'll show you."

Her hand drops his once they reach her office and he waits patiently in the doorway, unsure of what to expect. She drifts towards the closed window shutters behind her desk, her shoulders slumping as her fingers close around the edges of the ivory-colored wood. He watches her ribs expand when she takes a deep breath and draws the shutters back, unveiling a shrine of photos, index cards, and printed files.

He stands planted to the floor for a second, confused by the array of random information, when he realizes there's a familiarity to the arrangement. This looks like the outlines he makes for his characters on his computer at home, the ones he projects onto the wall of his office, but this isn't an outline. This is a murder board.

Kate's watching him, chewing on her lower lip, but his eyes are glued to the case illuminated by the sunlight as he finally steps closer to examine, to understand what she's actually trying to show him.

He knows he must appear torn between horror and intrigue as his eyes scan over the homemade murder board that consumes the shutters and glass of her windows, over the index cards covered from top to bottom with her neat handwriting, over the crime scene photos of a woman colorless and crumpled in an alley with blood staining her blouse.

His gaze falls to the picture of that same woman, alive, in the middle of the web of information, a personal photo he assumes by the blurred Christmas tree in the background. Before he even reads the name printed across the bottom of the photo, he feels a striking recognition for her. The defined jawline, the smooth slope of her nose, the dazzling smile. Oh, god.

"Your mother."

She wraps her arms around herself, levels her gaze directly at the woman smiling back at them. "We were supposed to go to dinner. But she - my dad and I waited, but she never showed. Two hours later, we went home, and there was a detective waiting for us."

He wants to weep for her, for the gravelly pitch to her voice, for the steel in her eyes that hides the inconsolable pain of losing her mother.

"They found her body, she had been… stabbed." Her throat constricts around the word, as if the thought of the knife made her own body coil with agony.

"A robbery?" he inquires, just to give her a moment, to pull her from this devastating narration.

"No," she mumbles. "She still had her money, her purse, her jewelry. It wasn't a sexual assault either. They attributed it to gang violence." The last sentence leaves her mouth stained with bitterness. She shakes her head, as if to dismiss the simmering anger of a long held grudge. "The killer was never caught."

She strikes him as the type who doesn't like to be held when upset, but he can't help reaching for her, pulling her into his chest and wrapping his arms around her, purposely hiding her face from the tragedy, the injustice, spread like a tapestry in front of them.

He's surprised she returns the embrace, lacing her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek to his clavicle.

He rests his chin atop her head, rhythmically rubs his palm up and down her back.

"My dad, he took her death hard. He's sober now. Eight years." He smiles softly at the pride in her words. "So this…" Kate straightens in his arms, puts enough space between them to show him the man's watch on her wrist. "This is for the life that I saved," she says, circling her index finger over the cracked glass before reaching around her neck, fishing the hidden chain from under her shirt to show him the ring hanging at the end. She sighs, sweeps her thumb over the modest jewel set in the middle. "And this is for the life that I lost."

He presses his lips to her forehead, listens to the trembling breath she takes.

"What happened to the watch?" he asks, remembering the crack running down the middle.

"I - I broke it," she croaks, cradling the wrist carrying the watch to her chest. "I guess I should have known it would break sooner or later, it's old, and with my job, it's been through a lot. Today, I tackled a suspect. We both went down on the sidewalk and the face of the watch hit the concrete. It's - it's stupid-"

"No," he murmurs, extracting her wrist from its hiding place against her chest and glancing down to study the damaged glass. "You know, Kate, I have a friend who could probably fix this."

Her eyes dart up to meet his, hopeful and pleading, not at all what he's used to seeing in the fierce pools of golden brown and bottle green. "Yeah?"

He nods. "I can take it to him tomorrow morning if you want."

The relief that floods her smile tempts him to go track down his friend right now. "That'd be perfect, Castle. How much do you-"

"Negative, Ghost Rider. This is free of charge."

"Rick-"

"Calm down, Beckett. He owes me a favor."

She narrows her gaze on him, scrutinizing his words, attempting to determine the truth or the lie in them. He has a fantastic poker face, she'll never know.

Kate huffs, but still smiles up at him in appreciation. "Thank you."

"Not a problem," he smiles back, tries not to stiffen in surprise yet again when she drops her head back to his chest.

They exist in comfortable silence for a while. His hand returns to travel up and down her back, her fingers curl into the back of his shirt, and he wonders – he hopes – if she feels as content as he does.

"When did you create this?" he decides to ask, tilting his head towards the murder board behind her.

"Last summer," she sighs, her warm breath whispering across the exposed skin of his throat. "It's been pointless, I've gotten nowhere."

The defeat in her voice squeezes his heart. She lives with the loss of her mother everyday, the injustice of her unsolved murder, and he wishes he could hire an entire squad of investigators, unearth a plethora of resources that could help her put this to rest, but she would never allow it.

"Does Josh know about this?"

"No." She untangles her arms from him, steps forward to fold the shutters closed. "He doesn't know anything."

As she eases she shutters shut, he gathers his courage. He hadn't planned to bring this up yet, but it seems like as good a time as any.

"You have a few vacation days saved up, right?"

She glances to him over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised skeptically. "Yeah, why?"

"Well, as you know, Alexis will be back tomorrow." He smiles and she does too, because she's well aware of how excited he is for his daughter's return. "And I was going to give her a week to settle in, adjust to the change in time zones and life in the city again, but after that, I was thinking of taking her to the Hamptons."

"You have a house in the Hamptons?"

"Yep, we go there every summer. It's kind of like a tradition, you know? Bonfires, roasting marshmallows, telling ghost stories, sleeping late. We've done it since she was five," he explains, following her out of the office, back into the living room.

"Sounds nice. Kind of magical, actually," she muses, drifting into the kitchen. "You staying for dinner?"

He glances out the window, realizes the sun is setting, and nods. "You should come with us. It's right on the ocean. There's a secluded pool. You could lay out, work on your tan."

"Wow, Castle, you're working really hard to see me in a swimsuit."

"If you are not comfortable in a swimsuit, you can just skinny dip."

"You sure Alexis would approve of that?" she quips, raising questioning eyebrows at him from the countertop near the fridge where she's sorting through takeout menus.

"Now my fantasy's ruined, Beckett. Thanks," he huffs, dodges the paper menu she tosses at him. "But it will give you a chance to meet Alexis."

Her fingers trip over their food options, hesitation causing her teeth to sink into her bottom lip. He knows introducing her to Alexis is a big step, one she may not be ready for, but Kate has become a huge part of his life within the last two weeks and he doesn't see that changing anytime soon. He doesn't want it to change.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" she questions, abandoning the menus scattered on the counter to give him her full attention.

Castle joins her in the kitchen, tries to keep his hands to himself as he props his hip against the counter beside her. "I'm positive. Alexis is the most important person in my life, you're important to me too, therefore, you two should meet."

Her lips quirk at his reasoning before she ducks her head to hide the shy smile behind her hair.

"Seriously, Kate. You could just come for the weekend. It'll be fun."

He listens to her sigh and watches her eyes lift, he can already see what her answer's going to be and he feels the grin spreading across his lips.

"I'll ask Montgomery about it tomorrow."


	11. Chapter 11

When he sees the signature flash of Alexis' red hair in the crowd flowing through the arrival gates, his heart leaps and he feels the smile stretch his face. His daughter looks exhausted, but she grins once she notices him and squeals when he wraps his arms around her waist and spins her around.

"Dad," she huffs as he sets her down, smoothing her fingers over her hair and blushing as she glances around the airport. Ah, he forgets he tends to embarrass her in public now.

"My baby bird," he sighs, slinging an arm over her shoulder and kissing the top of her head. "I missed you."

Alexis smiles up at him and adjusts her carryon over her shoulder so she can slip her arm around his waist. "Missed you too, Dad."

She chatters about England while they wait for her luggage, about Oxford and the pre-college program and all of her new friends. He had been wary to send her out of the country by herself, but listening to her gush about the experience, visibly beaming with the memories, makes him glad he finally relented to her begging and signed the consent form.

By the time they reach the car he called to pick them up, he's heard about practically every second of the three and a half weeks Alexis spent away.

"So," she chirps, settling into the leather seats and strapping her seatbelt across her chest. "What did you do while I was gone?"

"You mean aside from miss you like crazy?"

Alexis rolls her eyes at him, an action that elicits thoughts of Kate, and he realizes he's equal parts excited and anxious to tell his daughter about the detective.

"Well, I met someone, actually."

The light in Alexis' eyes falters, a hint of worry skittering through her gaze before she hides behind the curtain of her hair, pretending to glance out the window. Alexis has never liked his forms of dating, has never encouraged his participation in the playboy persona his publicist and fans love so much. He's never given her a reason to be excited for him when it comes to women, always either getting his heart broken or losing interest within a matter of days; he doesn't blame her for being apprehensive.

"Oh?" is all he gets in response.

"I met her at the post office, when I was mailing your care package."

"Thank you for that by the way," she cuts in with a soft grin. "I had been craving some American chocolate within the first week."

He chuckles. "Of course, Pumpkin."

"So this woman?" she prods tentatively, folding her hands in her lap and waiting with patience that a girl her age usually lacks.

Castle takes a deep breath and nods. "Her name is Kate and she's a homicide detective."

Alexis' eyebrows shoot upwards.

"Cool, right? She was mailing a care package too, and I asked her out. She said no."

The laugh surprises him and Alexis quickly covers her mouth with her hand, apparently not expecting to release the sound of her amusement either. Castle narrows his eyes, but she only shrugs.

"_Anyway_, I ran into her again at a coffee shop-"

"Dad, were you stalking this woman?"

"Why does everyone keep asking that?" he grumbles. "No, I was not. She was there grabbing lunch and I had gone for a walk, decided to stop there for iced coffee. After establishing that I was not stalking her," he says, giving his daughter a pointed look that makes her giggle. "I asked her if we could talk again and she finally called me that same night."

"And you've been hanging out ever since?"

"When she has the time. Her work schedule has her busy most days."

Alexis nods, but her gaze is straight ahead, out the window and not on him, as if she's analyzing every word before she speaks them.

"Did she know who you were?"

Rick pauses, thinks back to their first meeting. "I actually don't know. She's never mentioned it."

"But she knows you're rich?"

Castle sighs and shakes his head. "She didn't come over until last week. So I suppose she's aware I have a nice salary, but I can promise you, Alexis, it isn't like that."

His daughter is skeptical, which shouldn't surprise him, but she seems to believe him for now.

"She's not some bimbo who asks you to sign her chest though, right?"

A startled laugh escapes him, unable to even fathom the thought of Kate asking for any kind of signing from him, let alone one that would involve body parts.

"I think she'd rather die than feed my ego, sweetie."

That makes Alexis smile and relax back into her seat.

"She sounds cool."

"She is," he agrees, hoping he doesn't sound as eager as he feels to hear his daughter giving a small form of acceptance. "I was actually hoping she could come hang out with us this upcoming week, when we head to the Hamptons."

Alexis shifts in her seat, not uncomfortable, but definitely uncertain.

"Not the entire trip," he assures her, just to be safe. "Only for a couple of days."

"That sounds… that could be nice," she gets out.

"Alexis, if you aren't okay with it-"

"No," she protests quickly. "I'd like to meet her and I don't mind her coming to the Hamptons with us, I just… I hope you're careful, Daddy."

"We're just friends," he says, like that makes a difference, and Alexis gives him a doubtful look.

But it's true - he and Kate are friends. Just… friends.

* * *

Kate zips her duffel closed and drops it near the front door before returning to her room and flopping onto her bed with a stupid grin on her face. She's exhausted, but she knows sleep won't come easy, because she just got off the phone with Castle and she's excited to drive out to see him tomorrow. She'll leave straight after work, drive the two hours to join him and his daughter in the Hamptons, and enjoy the first real vacation she's taken in years. She can't wait.

Her phone buzzes her out of her thoughts of the beach and the sun and she rolls onto her side, reaching for the device with eagerness. She expects to see Castle's picture – a ridiculous selfie he took in one of the brief moments her phone was left unguarded – but she frowns when it's another familiar face she sees instead.

"Hey," she greets, quiet and suddenly feeling the exhaustion that had been suppressed by excitement only moments ago.

"Hey baby," Josh returns and she doesn't repress the annoyed huff she sends into the phone.

"I told you not to call me that."

"You don't let me call you anything other than your actual name," he complains, light and teasing, but she hasn't had the energy to flirt with him since he left for Haiti.

"And I like it that way," she says, hugging her pillow to her chest.

"I bet I can persuade you," he husks and what would once have caused her stomach to stir with heat has her shifting in discomfort.

She forces a laugh for his sake. "I highly doubt that."

"How've you been, Kate? We haven't talked in over a week," he points out, as if she doesn't already know.

"Fine," she murmurs. "How's Haiti?"

She knows the question will prompt Josh into a long, informative lecture about the state of the country, the efforts of his team and what they're doing to make life better for the people there, and she settles in for the story, trying her hardest to be interested, to be proud of him for doing such honorable acts. She genuinely is grateful Josh is out there, being a hero, saving the world – she knows the world needs more people like him, she knows she should feel lucky to be with a man like him, but as hard as she tries, she feels nothing a woman should feel for the man she calls her boyfriend.

Once Josh finally comes to a close on what she would consider a moving speech, she gathers the courage to ask the question she's been dying to ask since she finally heard his voice.

"Hey, do you know when you're coming back yet?"

He sighs. "I know you miss me, Kate." She wrinkles her nose. "I miss you too, but I'm just not sure yet. Everything is day by day here, you know?"

"I know," she replies, sitting up on her elbows. "But there's something I wanted to talk to you about, and I don't know if it can wait anymore."

"Okay, if it's that important, I'm all ears."

She nods to herself, ready to recite the words that have been on the tip of her tongue for months now. "Josh, I just don't think-"

There's muffled noises on the other line, the sounds of voices and then Josh is talking to someone just before he returns his attention to her. "Fuck, Kate – I'm sorry. I have to go, it's an emergency."

She exhales a frustrated breath through her nose and murmurs her understanding. Josh offers her a hurried goodbye, promises to call her again as soon as he can. She wants to tell him not to even bother, but he's already hung up.

Beckett groans and slams the phone down on her nightstand. She had decided that breaking up with Josh before her trip to the Hamptons would be the smartest course of action, even if it was on the phone, because as she had just told him, she didn't feel that it could wait anymore. _She _couldn't wait anymore.

She had looked forward to the freedom, to the look on Rick's face when she told him she was no longer restricted by the confines of her relationship with another man. She had looked forward to the chance to explore the possibilities between her and Castle. And now all of those hopes and daydreams were crushed and she couldn't even be _angry _with Josh because it wasn't his fault that his help had been desperately needed in the moment she chose to finally end things.

Kate buries her face in her pillow and switches off the lamp on her bedside table, the darkness a comforting blanket to hide away from reality under. So she may not be able to pursue anything with Castle just yet, it wasn't the end of the world, she tries to reason with herself. They've waited this long, another few days won't kill them.

Hopefully.


	12. Chapter 12

Kate glances back from the house – no, the _mansion _– and checks the address he gave her for the fifth time. When he had said he owned a "nice little place" in the Hamptons, she had stupidly assumed he meant something more along the lines of a beach cottage. Richard Castle is all about extravagance and his home in the Hamptons is no exception.

Reluctantly, she texts him that she's in his driveway and doesn't even have to wait a full minute before she sees him bounding down the front porch steps, a brilliant smile strung across his lips, and she feels her nerves subside. He may be rich and famous and own one of the most beautiful pieces of property she's ever seen, but he's still Rick.

"You made it," he grins as soon as she steps out of her car.

She shuts the door on her Crown Vic, which sticks out like a sore thumb here, but he looks even more thrilled by the sight of her police vehicle. "Told you I would."

Rick slides a hand onto her waist, over the t-shirt she had worn underneath the blazer she left in the passenger seat. "I missed you."

She rolls her eyes, but doesn't stop her arms from winding around his neck. "It's been six days."

He shushes her as he pulls her body in for a hug. She melts into him out of habit, lets her eyes flutter closed in a moment of peace. She can already hear the waves of the ocean, smell the salt in the breeze, and she hugs him tighter. This is what she has been waiting all week for.

Kate catches the sound of an opening door, notices a glimpse of red hair over Castle's shoulder when her eyes open again, a lone figure observing curiously from the porch. His daughter.

Beckett takes a step back and Castle seems to realize why, but keeps a hand at her waist, curves it around to the small of her back.

"Your bag?"

Kate pops the trunk with the automatic keys, but grabs her duffel before he can try to carry it for her.

"Don't be nervous," he whispers in her ear as they approach the porch.

"I'm not," she snaps, but she is. She's really nervous about finally meeting Alexis.

"Alexis," Castle smiles, taking the steps two at a time to reach his daughter and wrap an arm around her shoulders. "This is Kate Beckett."

The redhead's smile is hesitant as she assesses Kate, as if she's wary of her father's decision to have her stay in their second home, but her shimmering blue eyes are welcoming nonetheless.

Kate manages a polite returning lift of her lips for the girl. "Hi, Alexis. It's great to finally meet you."

"Likewise, Detective Beckett," the young woman replies, sounding far more mature than the average seventeen year olds she's dealt with in the past. "Dad's told me a lot about you."

Kate wishes she knew whether that was a good or a bad thing. "He's told me all about you as well. How was Oxford?"

Alexis' smiles stretches, her eyes widening with reminiscent excitement. "It was one of the most incredible experiences of my life. I'm really glad Dad let me go."

Kate grins, noting the proud glimmer in Castle's eyes as he watches his daughter speak.

"I'd love to hear all about it sometime," Beckett offers. "I've always wanted to travel to England."

"Oh, you have to go one day. It's amazing! Maybe…" Alexis hesitates, the light in her expression dimming just slightly as she seems to catch herself, reining in her excitement and looking shyly to the brightly painted toes peeking out from her sandals. "Maybe you can come visit if I attend university there."

Castle pales and Kate has to smother her smile with her hand.

"I'm still rooting for Columbia," he mutters, tugging the front door open. "I'll even root for Princeton, or really anywhere in this country. Preferably on the east coast, but as long as it's in the actual country, I can cope."

Alexis huffs, but pats his cheek in pity before she strolls inside.

"Look on the bright side, Castle," Kate teases, following after Alexis. "If your brilliant kid goes to Oxford, we could vacation in the UK."

It's a joke, an offhanded comment that she can't imagine ever ringing true, but Castle seems to take it as a sure sign she'll be in his life well into the future and squeezes her hip as he ushers her inside.

"Beckett, England is not where I would be taking you when given the opportunity to whisk you away for travel purposes," he grumbles under his breath, only loud enough for her to catch, and the heat that swarms her abdomen threatens to migrate to her cheeks. But arousal takes a backseat to amazement when Castle leads her past the entrance and into the foyer. The outside of the home should have acted as preparation, but she still gapes when he isn't looking.

Everything about this place is so grand, so elegant and affluent.

So daunting.

He begins babbling on about the history of the house and renovation endeavors right away, pointing out little details and recalling memories to go along with each foot of space they cross, but she completely misses what he's saying.

"Dad," Alexis calls from the stairs, where she's leaning against the bannister, a reluctant tag-a-long to Castle's tour. Kate doesn't know what kind of look or signal they may have exchanged, but Castle abruptly stops talking.

"Kate?"

She turns her head from studying the tasteful crown molding lining the ceilings and the intricate designs carved into the rounded archways on the endless rows of rooms, to see him watching her with concern.

"Everything okay?"

She looks to Alexis and notices the girl has disappeared. Worry churns in her gut.

"I'm just… out of my element," she supplies, directing her eyes to her shoes. She had been able to anticipate the need to impress his daughter, to gain her approval despite Castle's constant reassurances that Alexis would adore her, but she had not been prepared to feel out of place, like she didn't belong in his world anymore.

"Kate," he says again, softer, understanding infused into his tone as his hand encompasses hers. She doesn't want to look at him, but she forces her eyes up, sees him staring at her with something she doesn't dare try to identify. "I know this could be a bit… overwhelming, but it's still just me, and all I want is for you to have a good time while you're here."

The earlier unease of her arrival slowly begins to dissipate as she takes a step closer to him, uses the advantage of her heels to brush her lips across his cheek. He clasps his hands at the small of her back, holding her there, and it's a familiar sensation, to be enveloped in Castle's arms, assaulted by his scent and the broad warmth of his body, and she tries to draw courage from it. She chases down killers without a second thought for Christ's sake, she can explore his ritzy house with him.

"Let's finish the tour then."

Each room Rick takes her through still leaves her speechless, urging the whispers of self-doubt to the center stage of her mind, but the rich tasting wine he pours for her helps and she hides it better, forces her mind not to drown in the insecurities.

"This is my favorite part," he grins as he guides her through a set of glass doors, out to the back porch that opens into a beautiful view of the ocean.

"It's… spectacular, Castle," she murmurs as he tugs her by the hand through the freshly trimmed grass.

"Told you," he beams. "And the pool's right back here, if you ever want to go for a midnight swim."

She scoffs at the hopeful leer on his face. "Where's Alexis?"

That wipes the inappropriate look away with lightning speed.

"Her room, I'm sure. She's been talking to this boy she met at camp and he lives in London, so they have a call schedule."

She untangles her hand from his and loops her arms around his elbow instead. "Don't look so glum. At least they're in different continents."

"That's not the problem," he groans. "She's talking to boys all the time now. She had her first serious breakup earlier in the spring. My baby bird is starting to _date _and she's getting her heart broken in the process."

Kate squeezes his bicep in comfort as they step onto the beautifully crafted back patio. It's hard to watch your child grow, especially your only child, and despite her usual jokes and teasing about his over protective nature, she knows how much he loves his daughter and how challenging her transition into a young woman is for him.

"What if she rebounds with some bad boy who wears all leather and rides a motorcycle?" he asks in sudden horror and Kate bites back her laugh only because he looks truly terrified at the possibility he's conjured up.

"From what you've told me, Alexis is a good kid, and a smart one. I'm sure she wouldn't date anyone you disapproved of."

"Please tell me you were a good, smart kid who can be an example of this reasoning," he says, glancing over at her hopefully, but she bites her lip. "Oh no. You were a wild child, weren't you?"

"My dad threatened to send me to a nunnery at one point."

"I'm torn between being even more attracted to you and horrified for the sake of your father. Tell me more."

She huffs, leans against one of the tall white pillars of the patio and rakes her eyes over the tempting turquoise water of the pool. "Maybe some other time."

"Kate," he whines as she takes a long sip of her wine. "Don't you want me to be prepared for what could happen with my own child?"

She hums, tilting her head to the side in contemplation. "I did always hear that good girls were the _worst _when it came to rebellion…"

He pales and she can't contain her laughter, using the pillar at her side for support.

Rick growls. "You better be joking."

"Mm," she smirks, swaying closer to him. "To an extent."

"Beckett," he grumbles, catching her by the hips. "Tell me the worst thing you did."

"Hmm, I can't decide between the tattoo and the motorcycle."

"Tattoo?" he squeaks, thumbs pressing against the points of her hipbones, igniting the usual flame that always exists low in her stomach for him, and she realizes she should probably take a step back. His touch feels too nice and the wine has her feeling a little more daring than she normally would allow with Castle. "And a motorcycle?"

"Yep," she replies, popping the 'p' as she drifts away from his hands, towards the French doors that will lead her back inside. "And I still have them both."

* * *

He finds his daughter in her room by ten that night, already tucked into bed in plaid pink pajamas, reading a book the size of her head. "Hey Pumpkin."

Her eyes flicker up from the page to see him in the doorway and she smiles, lowers the book to her lap.

"Hey Dad, what's up?"

He shrugs, shuffles inside and plops down at the foot of her bed. "I just came to check in on you before I turn in for the night."

It's the truth, he never goes to sleep without telling her goodnight, but she knows that's not all.

"I like her, Dad," she smirks.

"I didn't ask."

"You were not asking very loudly," she points out, using a line he's used on her plenty of times in the past. "I do have a couple of questions though."

Uh oh. Castle props his elbow on his knee, rests his chin in his palm. "Shoot."

"You said you and Kate are just friends, but it seems…" She shrugs. "I don't know, you guys definitely act like more."

He had a feeling whatever questions Alexis had would fall under that category and he knows he should have been prepared for this; he had been trying to prepare for it since he had decided he wanted Alexis and Kate to meet. He still doesn't have an answer.

"Oh, I know that look," Alexis says suddenly, sitting up and crawling across the queen sized mattress to settle down next to him. "You _like_ her."

He huffs and shoves at her shoulder, but she swats him with a throw pillow.

"I - okay, yeah. But it's complicated right now."

She groans, flops backwards, and Castle stares down at her in confusion. Usually, he's the one doing that sort of thing.

"I am so tired of hearing that. Why does it always have to be complicated with adults?"

He falls onto his back beside her. "Because being an adult is _hard._"

"But you like her and I can tell she likes you-"

He shoots upright. "She does?"

Alexis rolls her eyes. "Obviously. Do you not see the way she looks at you?"

"Huh." He always hopes he's reading Kate's signals correctly, she's never given him reason to believe she wasn't interested in him, but he can never be certain if he's right in his observations, or if it's merely wishful thinking. He's always chalking too many things up to wishful thinking when it comes to Kate Beckett, but it's better than to risk putting belief in something that isn't there.

But if his own daughter, his smart, very perceptive daughter, can see it…

"So? What are you waiting for?"

The smile on his face fades. "For the complication to be out of the equation."

"Wait." Alexis props herself up on her elbows, her brow furrowing adorably, similar to Kate's. "What do you mean?"

He sighs, buying himself a moment to think this through. He didn't want to tell Alexis about Josh, didn't want her to judge Kate for it, but he can't lie to her either, not now.

"She has a boyfriend," he murmurs.

Alexis is silent for a single second before she shakes her head, looking utterly disappointed but still confused.

"Why did you even invite her?"

"It's a long story-"

"It's stupid."

"Alexis," he warns and she presses her lips together, but still looks at him in disapproval, like a parent reprimanding a child. "I know I've only told you bits and pieces, but Kate's boyfriend is a doctor and he's been in Haiti saving lives this whole time." Her eyebrows shoot upwards, impressed. "Yeah, I know," he mutters, waving her off, because he's already aware he'll never be able to compete with that. "We started hanging out, just as friends, but since the day I met her… I've hoped for more."

"Can't she break up with him?" she asks, less accusatory, still hesitant, but more hopeful now.

"She's been waiting for him to get back, to do it in person, but he doesn't have a set return date yet."

Alexis wraps her arms around him, drops her cheek to his shoulder, and he curls his fingers around her bicep.

"I don't like this, but I guess… I guess I understand."

He holds in his sigh of relief. "I just want us all to have a good time while we're here," he says, patting her arm, trying to lighten the morose mood. "I'd hoped you would like Kate and since she already knows practically everything about you, since I had a lot of time to fill her in, I know she's already a fan of yours."

She buries her face in his t-shirt, embarrassed over his bragging about her to the woman he adores, but it seems to soften her. He knows how Alexis can be, how protective and cold she can become towards people that could potentially hurt him, but he had witnessed his daughter conversing with Kate earlier during dinner, had seen her smile and laugh, genuinely, not for the sake of polite mingling.

Kate is the first _real_ woman he has brought around Alexis in years and he had bet on them hitting it off. He doesn't want his relationship with Kate - or lack thereof - to affect that.

"I'm going to get ready for bed, but you know where to find me if you need anything, Pumpkin," he murmurs as he presses a kiss to the side of her head.

She nods while he rises from the bed and she crawls back under the blankets.

"What time are we going down to the beach tomorrow?" she questions before he can reach the door.

He ponders it for a moment. He and Alexis are usually on the beach right after breakfast, but this is a vacation for Kate and he doesn't want to make her wake earlier than she'd like.

"Let's say nine, maybe ten at the latest. What are you going to want for breakfast?"

"You already know you're going to make an entire buffet for Detective Beckett," she points out smugly, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

"See if you get any," he challenges, winking through the crack in the door before pulling it shut for her.

He sinks against his daughter's closed bedroom door for a moment, relieved and worn out from the conversation regarding where he stands with Kate, especially when he'd still like to have that conversation with Kate herself. But he wants to wait until Josh is out of the way. He's been convinced for a long while now that a half-hearted relationship with the other man is not what she wants, she's blatantly told him she's intent on breaking up with the doctor, and he has the tentative hope that maybe he could be what's she's really looking for.

Rick silently pads down the hall, towards Kate's room, where the door is cracked and lamplight bleeds into the hallway.

He expects to find her in bed, maybe in the closet still unpacking, but it isn't until his eyes move to the glass double doors across the room that he sees her, on the balcony that overlooks the ocean, leaning against the edge in a way that makes him nervous, but the line of her body seems at ease, relaxed.

"Hey."

She looks over her shoulder at his voice, the carpet muting his entry, and motions him over. She's stunning in the starlight, the cool breeze of the night ruffling her hair and the oversized t-shirt she wears over black leggings. He wishes he could wrap his arms around her from behind, rest his chin atop her head, or maybe her shoulder so he could press his cheek to hers. But he settles for leaning against the balcony railing beside her.

"It's so beautiful here, Castle."

"As magical as you imagined?" he murmurs, echoing her words from a week ago and she smiles.

"More so."

"Alexis and I were thinking about heading to the beach around nine tomorrow, after breakfast, if that's good with you. If not, you can totally sleep in and-"

"And miss the chance to frolic with you and your daughter on this beach paradise? Please," she grins, nudging him back towards the bedroom, letting him pull the French doors shut behind them.

"Well, better get to bed then, Beckett. Especially if you want breakfast."

"You going to tuck me in too?" she teases, sauntering away from him, disappearing into the bathroom. She leaves the door open, so he assumes it's safe to follow her there too, although he does receive a glare when her eyes meet his in the bathroom mirror. "Need something?" she questions, coating her toothbrush with paste.

"No, just wanted to tell you goodnight before I went to bed," he murmurs, leaning around her shoulder to smack a loud kiss to her cheek that she squirms away from.

"_Cassle_," she grunts around the toothbrush in her mouth and he snickers as he trots out of the bathroom.

It feels so natural to have her here and he hopes that maybe one day they can come again. Only next time, she wouldn't be staying down the hall from his bedroom.


	13. Chapter 13

The cool brick against her back makes her gasp and arch into the warm body pinning her to the rough wall in the crisp, night air. She tries to pull him even closer with the arms twined around his neck, revels in the moan she evokes from deep within his throat and grins against his lips.

"Kate," he husks, tearing his lips away to press his forehead to hers and she bites her swollen bottom lip, blissful excitement swimming in her veins.

Castle leans in to kiss her again, but suddenly the line of his body jerks, going rigid against hers, and she looks up at him in confusion, sees him staring down at her with wide eyes full of pain and accusation.

"Rick? What's wrong?" she whispers, moving her hands to his face, but he staggers backwards, falls to his knees clutching at his side, where blood seeps through the spaces between his fingers.

"No," she moans, following him to the ground, covering his trembling hand with her own, pressing on the wound as if she can keep the blood from bubbling free. "Not you, please, Rick. Not-"

His face begins to pale, eyes going dark, and she sobs, tries harder to stop the bleeding.

"Oh, Katie."

She whips her head up to see her mother, looking down on her with pity and disapproval. When she turns her eyes back to Rick, he's already gone, bled out on the dirty concrete of the alley. The knife falls from her hands-

Kate jolts in the foreign bed, choking on her own tears and shaking the mattress with the harsh tremors wracking her body. She's in the Hamptons, in his guest room, and he's not dead, he can't be. She stumbles from the bed anyway, trips over the sweat stained sheets that have coiled around her legs. She practically crawls the rest of the way to the door, uses the elegant gold handle to haul herself to her feet.

She's gained some of her composure back by the time she locates what she's almost positive is the master bedroom and is able to silently ease the door open. But once inside, she sees the king sized bed in the middle of the room is empty.

"No," she whimpers, covering her mouth with her hand and sinking back against the wall beside the door until she's crumpled onto the carpet. How could she have let this happen? How could she have-

"Kate?"

Her eyes fly from the cradle of her palms at the slurred voice, up to where he's standing by the en suite's doorway. Alive.

"Kate," he repeats her name, more awake now, seeming to have an idea of what's going on, why she's a quivering mess in his bedroom doorway at four in the morning. "What's the matter? Are you hurt?"

"Castle," she gasps, heaving herself up from the floor just as he reaches her. She throws her arms around him, burying her face in his neck and clinging to his frame. She'll regret this show of weakness in the morning, she's sure of it, but witnessing him die in her dreams was enough to have her pushing the thought aside for tonight. "I thought you - I thought-"

"Shh," he murmurs into her hair, stroking it back from her wet cheeks. "You're okay, love. You're-"

"Not me," she groans, the nightmare still fresh in her mind, playing on a loop that's embedded into her eyelids. She pulls her head away from his shoulder to glance up at him, meeting his worried gaze. "You," she whispers, her voice cracking over the single syllable. "I watched you die and it was all my fault."

"Hey." Castle cups her face in his hands, his expression not stricken like she had expected, but apologetic and she hates that, doesn't even understand it. "I'm right here," he murmurs, brushing his thumbs over the hollows of her cheeks, skimming the throbbing skin beneath her eyelids.

Her eyes flicker down to his abdomen and she shakes his hands off, hesitantly reaches for the hem of his t-shirt and lifts the soft fabric until she finds the spot where he had been stabbed in her dream. His flesh is smooth, untouched, even when she dusts her fingers there just to be sure. Castle remains stock still throughout her examination, his jaw clenching at her touch, and she quickly draws her hand away, allows his shirt to drop back into place.

She had almost forgotten how her nightmare had actually started, how those first few seconds hadn't been a nightmare at all.

"I'm sorry." She begins to back away. "I didn't mean to bother-"

"Kate," he huffs, catching her by the hand. "Come to bed."

She arches an eyebrow at him, but he's already leading her towards his intimidating place of rest a few feet away and pulling the covers back.

"No funny business," he assures her, releasing her fingers to crawl onto the mattress, patting the space beside him. "But you obviously had a pretty terrible nightmare and I don't think you'll get back to sleep alone in your room."

Kate takes a step closer, but bites her lip. He only wants to comfort her, nothing's actually going to happen, but lying in bed with him can't be acceptable for a mere friendship, can it?

"Kate." He gives her a knowing look, like he can read her mind, and she _hates_ when he does that too. "It doesn't change anything."

She slips into his bed, sighs at how soft the sheets are on her skin, how pleasantly firm the mattress is under her side when she settles down next to him. He gives her a closed-lipped smile, like he's proud of her, and stretches his arm across the space between them, tucks the tangles of her hair behind her ear.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

The image of his dead body flashes in front of her.

"No," she rasps, disregarding the arm's length of space between them and scooting closer, allowing his arms to snake around her back and hold her to his chest.

"Do you have dreams like this often?" he asks, his fingers dancing up and down her spine.

She shrugs. "I had them all the time after my mom died, but I haven't had one this bad in a while. I've never seen you in my nightmares before."

"Only in your sex dreams?"

Kate pinches his hip, making him squirm away and roll onto his back, bringing her with him, tucking her into his side like it's the most natural thing in the world and it feels like it could be. She must be truly exhausted, because otherwise, she would be freaking out right about now.

Then again... maybe not.

Rick's become her best friend, as ridiculous as it sounds, and she's grown to appreciate the regular caresses and brushes of a touch that feel all too normal with him. He doesn't touch her with intent, like men of her past always tended to, like Josh does, but simply because he enjoys it. She won't deny there's a physical attraction – even now, she can sense the usual current of electricity, dulled but very much alive and flowing between them, especially with their proximity.

She's always refrained from calling what they have a 'connection', but she's racked her brain for weeks, and no other noun, adjective, or description seems befitting of what they have.

Kate sighs and rests her aching head on his shoulder, tilts her body into his side, and lets the steady sound of his breathing play like a lullaby while the motion of his hand rubbing her back encourages the drifting sensation of sleep.

"Night, Kate." She feels the press of his lips at the top of her head just as she sinks under the seas of slumber.

* * *

"Morning, Kate," Alexis greets around a forkful of eggs.

Castle glances up from the stove to see Kate shuffling in, still in her pajamas, still looking like she could crawl right back into his bed and sleep a few more hours, but also looking so much better than she had last night when he'd found her huddled at his door, panicked and broken with true fear in her eyes.

He had woken half an hour ago, slipped out of the bed without disturbing her, and come downstairs to see Alexis already awake, sitting at the barstool with a glass of orange juice. His daughter is in a good mood, the atmosphere of the beach and the endless amount of fond memories apparently seeping into her overnight.

Kate climbs onto the barstool beside her. "Morning, sleep good?"

"The best in weeks," Alexis sighs happily. "Don't get me wrong, I loved Oxford, but it took me forever to adjust to the time zone. Then once I finally had, I got shipped back here. I think my body's finally back in the swing of things."

Kate smiles. "I'm glad. I'd have been dead on my feet if I were you."

"She was for a while, and believe me, she wasn't pleasant about it either," Castle chimes in, depositing a cup of coffee in front of Beckett.

"Bless you," she sighs, curling her fingers around the mug.

"Dad, you wanted me to play laser tag the first night I got back," Alexis throws back and he catches Kate giving him a reproving look.

"Hey, no. You two don't get to do that."

The two women share a confused glance.

"Do… what?" Kate questions before taking a long sip of coffee and he's almost completely distracted by the glorious line of her throat and the grin that claims her lips as she swallows. Almost.

"Gang up on me," he says, pointing a spatula at the two of them. "You said the thing about the laser tag and then you." He directs his spatula at a smirking Kate. "Gave me the look."

"The look?" she echoes, tilting her head to one side.

"The disapproving look," he clarifies.

"Ah. You would know that one."

Alexis conceals a giggle behind her hand.

"You're both mean," he grumbles, returning to the stovetop where Kate's breakfast is almost finished.

"Don't pout, it's unattractive," she says, her voice suddenly at his ear and her lips making a quick sweep over his cheek.

He glances to his daughter, still sitting at the breakfast bar with her half finished plate, but her attention is on her phone. He knows she has a few friends here for the summer and he assumes he may have to divide some of his time with her for them later in the day. But for once, he doesn't mind so much. Not when he has Kate Beckett around to entertain him.

She steals a slab of bacon and he huffs, offers her a plate that she takes with a grin.

"You sleep okay, Kate?" he asks, loud enough for his daughter to hear the polite inquiry, but he holds her eyes through the question.

"I slept really well, thanks. After I got used to being in a new place."

He wonders if that's what triggered her nightmare, being somewhere new, or if the unwanted dreams would have come for her no matter where she slept. She had mentioned she's never seen him in those types of dreams before, though, so maybe it was best that the nightmare had happened here, where she could get to him, reassure herself of his survival.

"Castle," she singsongs. "Your pancake is burning."

"Shit," he mutters, hastily flipping the singed cake and sparing a sideways glare at her for laughing. "That one's yours."

She twists his ear and he wiggles out of her grasp, nearly burning himself in the process. He's reaching for his spatula again, a weapon of defense, when the sound of Alexis clearing her throat has them both pausing.

"Dad, can you stop fooling around? I'm starving."

He gapes. "_Me?_"

"Yeah, Castle," Kate smirks, retreating back to the bar with her plate in hand. "Stop fooling around."

Alexis has returned her gaze to her phone, but he sees his daughter smothering a grin at the backup she's earned and when Kate takes her place beside Alexis once again, his daughter turns to her, showing her something on the phone. He feigns indignation, but his heart is swelling with an overwhelming mixture of contentment and high hopes at the sight of his daughter and the woman he may sort of be in love with getting along even better than he had hoped.


	14. Chapter 14

The look on his face when she joins them on the beach in just her swimsuit is almost comical. It gets even better when Alexis hits him on the side of the head with a beach ball. The colorful sphere bounces off of his skull and smacks the stunned look from his face.

Kate chuckles at the squabbling she can see from afar during her descent from the back patio to their place near the water.

"Kate, that is not a bikini," is the first thing Rick points out once she reaches the two of them.

Alexis is spraying sunscreen all over her body, creating a thorough layer of the liquidized cream over the porcelain skin her teal colored one-piece with white polka dots doesn't protect. The suit reminds Kate of the 50's pinup style she's noticed is making a comeback for the summer and she's glad she herself ended up choosing the one-piece bathing suit over the bikini she had packed. It was never a hard decision in the first place, but seeing Alexis' choice in swimwear solidifies that the flimsy purple bikini would have made her feel far too exposed in front of his teenage daughter.

"I like it," Alexis chirps, nodding in approval at Kate's swimsuit. The black fabric doesn't cover everything, the back and sides are cut out and the halter style of the top allows her a hint of cleavage, and despite his hopes for a skimpy bikini, Castle seems to be in approval of her current choice of swimwear as well.

"Thanks, Alexis. Yours looks amazing with your hair."

His daughter beams and Castle shoots Kate a warm smile from over her shoulder. He had never spoken the words, but she knows he was just as nervous as she was about how Alexis would react to her presence. From all he had told her over the near month of his daughter's absence, Kate had been aware that Alexis might see her as a threat to her father's heart. They've sworn they're only friends, but Alexis has made it clear that she can see through them both and Kate wonders if she and Castle have been fooling anyone but themselves over these last few weeks.

"Need help applying some sunscreen?" Castle asks as Alexis starts to drift towards the water.

She ignores the urge to admire his shirtless physique now that his daughter has her back turned, ignores the urge to steal a glance at the dark blue swim trunks that hang low on his hips. She rolls her eyes and slips her sunglasses from the bundle of her towel and shades her eyes from him.

"Already covered that before I came outside."

"You are no fun."

Kate rolls out the towel Alexis lent her next to his on the warm sand, but starts for the water. Rick lingers and she feels his gaze hotter than the sun on her back.

"Castle, stop staring at my ass."

"I wasn't," he argues, coming up behind her and splaying his hand wide at the bared expanse of her lower back. Her spine straightens at the jolt of electricity. "That's not the only attribute your swimsuit accentuates, Beckett."

He moves ahead of her, giving her the space she had yet to ask for, and she takes a deep breath before following him into the ocean. What had she been thinking? Coming to a beach with him where so much skin is left exposed?

She savors the contact of the cool water on her flaming flesh though, the waves a welcoming reprieve from the heat and humidity weighing down the air. Castle hisses when he sets foot in the sea, making her and Alexis laugh as they wade into the gentle waves as he complains about the freezing temperature of the water from behind.

"C'mon, Dad, you were_ just_ whining about how it's too hot."

Rick throws the first splash at Alexis, the beginning of a full on water war that Kate's quickly pulled into, and she's immediately thankful for the sunglasses protecting her eyes from all of the flying saltwater. She's able to remain relatively dry from the neck up - most of the splashing coming from Alexis and aimed at her father - until Castle's arms sweep under her, lifting her bridal style.

"Don't you dare," she warns him, punching his arm, but he doesn't put her down, only wades deeper into the ocean. "I'm going to kill you."

"Wouldn't that go against the whole detective thing?" he inquires with a smirk, his arms tensing beneath her and she tries to squirm, wiggle out of his grasp, but he tightens his hold, hauls her body closer.

"No one will ever know. Lanie will help me hide the body."

"No, she won't. Lanie adores me," he grins triumphantly and she goes to reach for his ear, to twist away the smirk from his face, but he throws her forward before she can catch hold, catapulting her a few feet away into the water.

She sinks only a couple feet under, but purposely stays submerged beneath the surface and peels her eyes open after a handful of seconds. The salt stings, but she can see the pillars of his legs through the shimmering blue and she stealthily swims forward, around to his back. She can hear him calling for her when she doesn't emerge, his muffled voice sounding concerned, and she waits until she's almost out of breath to propel upwards, wrap her arms around him from behind.

He shrieks – a terrified, utterly unmanly noise – and Alexis bursts with laughter as Kate squeezes her arms around his neck, digging her chin into the juncture between his shoulder and his neck.

"Katherine Beckett," he growls, catching both of her wrists latched over his chest, where she can feel his heart pounding.

She's laughing at his back, sharing the amusement with his daughter, who's still snickering in front of him.

"You're both cruel," he grumbles, releasing Kate's hands and swimming away from them, but there's a smile on his lips.

* * *

They spend the rest of the morning in the water and on the sand, Alexis and Kate eventually making an attempt to tan in relaxation while Castle works on a sandcastle. Kate's drifting in and out of a sun induced nap and Rick's almost finished the fourth wall of his courtyard when they hear Alexis' name being called from down the beach.

His daughter sits up and waves to the group of girls who are apparently waiting for her.

"Hey Dad-"

Kate watches as Castle squints, trying to get a better look at the girls in the distance. "Do I know those three?"

"It's Samantha, Lauren, and Ronnie," she lists, gathering her towel from the soft sand, shaking it off and rolling it up neatly. "We were just going to go hang out, maybe grab lunch in town."

"You have something to put on over-"

"Yes, Daddy," she groans, pecking his cheek. "Can I please go?"

"Go ahead," he relents, palming the seashell in his hand while Kate props up on her elbows.

"Thank you, I'll be back in time for dinner. Bye Dad, bye Kate." Alexis waves to them both over her shoulder as she jogs to catch up with her friends.

Castle turns back to his village of sand once his daughter is nothing more than a disappearing red blur in the distance.

"Nice castle."

He perks up at her comment, grinning as he sticks the white shell in his hand on the top of the highest sand tower. "It is rather befitting of its name." He wipes his hands on his trunks and glances over to her. "Stay on the beach or head back to the house?"

They've been out in the sun and the water all morning and they probably should head back inside soon, have some lunch, but she wants to enjoy her time in this piece of paradise while she has the chance. Kate removes her sunglasses and stands, starts back towards the water in response, wading deeper with him than they had before with Alexis, and stopping once the water laps at her chest and his as well. She's refrained from openly admiring his exposed body all day, but as she treads water with him, watching the waves splash against his torso and the sun cause his wet skin to glisten, her eyes can't help but scour the muscles of his chest and even lower, to the impressive set of abdominal muscles she knows are hidden beneath the sparkling blue of the ocean.

"Enjoying yourself, Detective?"

Her gaze darts to his face, where he's smirking at her, but she shrugs, no use hiding what he already saw.

"I didn't think you'd be so built."

"You think I just sit around with my laptop all day, don't you?" he huffs in mock offense, gliding away from her in the water. "I think you'd be surprised by my athletic abilities."

She quirks an eyebrow at him. "Oh really?"

He nods, smug and sure of himself.

"I'll prove it by beating you in a race."

She scoffs and scans the expanse of ocean. "Where to, the shore?"

"No, that rock right over there." He points behind her and she swivels in the water to see a small cluster of rocks maybe twenty feet away. Easy.

"You're on, Castle."

"No cheating," he warns, positioning himself directly beside her and digging his feet into the sand.

"I'm not the one likely to cheat here."

"Your accusations wound me."

"Suck it up and prepare to get your ass kicked."

"Competitive, are we?" he grumbles, but there's mirth in the line of his mouth. "Okay, ready?" She mimics him, bracing her feet in the sand, nods for him to continue. "Get set... Go!"

Kate uses the ocean floor to propel herself forward, gliding past Castle with graceful ease. He's right, she is competitive by nature, and she's focused on her goal as she makes good pace through the water, feeling Castle fall behind within seconds. But she's only made it a few short feet before she feels something brush her leg and then close around her ankle, tugging her backwards. She grunts under the water and kicks at the familiar set of fingers circling her leg.

She _knew_ he would cheat.

He releases her, but uses the advantage he's caused to swim past her and take the lead.

Race be damned, she's intent on getting even now. Kate catches up to him with a few broad breaststrokes and grabs his shoulder, hooks her arm around his neck.

He meets her eyes in surprise just before she dunks his head under the water. He doesn't go down without a fight, one of his arms locking around her waist and pulling her down with him.

They both come up for air a second later and she immediately snags his ear, twisting the cartilage between her fingers like she had wanted to earlier.

"Oww," he sputters, shaking his head from her grasp and blinking through the saltwater dripping from his lashes.

"Cheater," she spats, but she's laughing and so is he, and she doesn't care about how he ruined their race, how they've barely covered half of the intended distance, because he made it fun. And she's needed some fun in her life.

She wraps her arms around his neck before she can think better of it, rests her chin on the slick juncture between his neck and his shoulder where she seems to fit so well. "Thank you for inviting me out here, Castle."

He had stiffened at her touch, but he melts at her words, sighs in what sounds like contentment and curls his arms around her waist.

"I'm glad you're here," he murmurs against her temple.

She smiles, turns her nose into his cheek. "Me too."

It's too intimate and she knows it, they both do, and she begins to pull away just as Castle turns his head. Their noses bump and her eyes flicker down to his lips, barely a breath away from hers.

She's suddenly painfully aware of just how much of her exposed skin is pressed against his, how the water is no longer cooling, and how her blood has heated to the temperature of molten lava that bubbles to the surface.

"Castle," she breathes, and bites her lip to stifle how pathetically winded she sounds.

She had feared this would happen sooner or later, the inevitable almost kiss, but she doesn't want this to end, not at almost. She wants to finally feel his lips cover hers, to know what he tastes like and find out if it'll be as good as she's been imagining for the last month.

Her eyes flutter closed when he touches his lips to the corner of her mouth, a tentative, feather-light brush that only makes resisting harder than it's ever been.

This is not the first time she has wanted to kiss Richard Castle.

It's the first time she acts on the desire.

Her hands cradle his jaw as she closes the distance between their mouths, seals her lips to his, and it's a rush of relief, of _finally_, and a shock of electricity to her veins.

She could still pull away, she could still label this as an innocent mistake between friends. But then Castle's tongue glides along the seam of her lips and she can't help it, she moans, opens for him, and lets the waves push her more insistently against him. She doesn't know how she could ever will herself to call this a mistake when it feels like the best decision she's made in months.

It's more than everything she thought it would be. It's better.

She gasps when his hands slide along her thighs, hoist her up into his arms, and her legs wrap around his waist by reflex. Her fingers slip through the soaked strands of his hair, grasping for purchase as his lips skate across her jawbone, down to her neck, sucking, nipping, burning burning _burning_. His tongue skims her pulse point, but she tugs his face away from her skin, brings his mouth back to hers.

He kisses her bottom lip, sucks it into his mouth and soothes the long abused flesh with his tongue. Her abdomen coils tightly with that familiar arousal that's been festering for weeks and when a strong wave rocks her lower body into his, she feels it threaten to spill over.

They both jerk, as if coming out of a trance, still dazed and confused and aroused. She can feel what she's done to him against her stomach and knows by the almost unbearable pressure between her legs that she isn't doing much better. His fingers bruise her hips to keep her still and she quickly untangles her legs from around him.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, drawing her arms from his neck, using them to wade backwards instead, trying to put some much needed distance between their overworked bodies.

"Kate."

He reaches for her, but she propels herself farther away. She has a boyfriend and she knowingly kissed – no, _heatedly made out with_ – Rick. And now she's not only cheated on Josh, but she's likely hurt Castle in the process. He had only wanted her to have a nice, relaxing weekend on the beach and she had taken advantage of him, of his feelings for her.

He deserves better than this.

She swims away from him with his touch still seared into her skin.


	15. Chapter 15

She leaves him with the taste of her still burning on his tongue.

He knew Kate was a good swimmer, he did not know she apparently has the ability to swim as fast as a superhuman mermaid. Keeping up with her is impossible, so he settles for paddling after her from a distance.

He should have stopped her the moment she pressed her lips to his. He never should have allowed it to come to that in the first place. But he's been dying to kiss Kate Beckett for so long. He can't help but catalogue it as a moment of weakness.

Obviously, Kate only sees it as a grave mistake since she couldn't even look at him afterwards and then swam away from him with the speed of an Olympic swimmer.

He's panting by the time he makes it to shore, where she's a crumpled, crying mess in the sand. Her knees are pulled up to her chest and her face is buried there and he tries not to wheeze as he collapses next to her.

"Kate," he murmurs, resisting the habit to touch her back in comfort. "I'm sorry. I'm really-"

She lifts her head to stare up at him, brow furrowed in confusion, but all he can see are the tears in her eyes and how he put them there.

"Why are you sorry?" she asks, sounding genuinely confused. "You didn't do anything wrong. It's me, just me."

Her lip is quivering and god, how is he supposed to look at her mouth after knowing what it feels like under his?

_Focus, Castle._

"I know you have a boyfriend, I knew better than to kiss you back," he mumbles, diverting his gaze to the gentle waves swimming up to meet their feet.

"Rick." She takes his hand, interlaces their fingers. "You were just doing what I wanted. It was only a matter of time, wasn't it?"

He sneaks a glance up at her, sees she's dividing her gaze between him and the ocean.

"How long have you wanted to kiss me?" He realizes a second too late how it sounds, like some arrogant comment, but she only sighs.

"Awhile." She smiles softly before it falls away. "But I wanted... I didn't want our first kiss to be tainted with other things. I just wanted it to be… ours. That's why I've been waiting to breakup with Josh first. I didn't want to feel guilty about finally being able to kiss you." She digs her chin into her kneecaps as his heart crashes against the cage of his ribs, because she's saying everything, everything he had hoped for but never expected. "And now I do."

"It was still amazing."

She arches an eyebrow at him.

"You expected anything less?"

"Oh no, I expected fireworks and I definitely got them."

She laughs and squeezes his hand, using their linked fingers to pull him up from the sand with her.

"Let's just go have lunch."

He complies and follows her up the beach towards the house, but he knows these next 24 hours will be anything but easy. His blood is buzzing for her, a steady thrum of electricity humming through his veins. Kissing her once will never be enough.

* * *

Alexis returns home in time for the bonfire Castle's created on the beach a few steps down from the back patio. She stayed out past dinner, opting for a meal with her friends at one of the local restaurants - her loss, she missed his homemade pizza that Kate adored. She ate three large slices, more than he's ever seen her eat in his near month of knowing her - but she did call in advance, which he appreciates.

And now Kate's beside him in the cool sand and she's wearing a pretty yellow sundress that flows and flutters in the ocean breeze.

The three of them talk and share s'mores, but Rick continues to grow distracted from his daughter's relaying of her day in great detail, his attention drifting to Kate and Kate's mouth and the chocolate Kate keeps smearing on her lips every time she takes a bite into the graham crackers holding her marshmallows and block of melting chocolate in place.

Alexis luckily fails to notice his lack of interest, pouring it all out to Kate, who nods and hums a noise of acknowledgment in all the right places, but he also knows that Kate is truly listening to his daughter, not just pretending to for the sake of not hurting her feelings. And it makes him want her even more.

"I'm going to head in," Alexis announces as she finishes off her second s'more, licking a smudge of chocolate from her thumb. "What time are you leaving tomorrow, Kate?"

"Probably around noon. I'm not in a huge hurry, but I do have to work on Monday, so I'd like the time to unpack and settle in back home," she explains, standing to give his daughter a hug goodnight.

His chest flutters at the sight.

"Night, sweetheart," he murmurs into her hair when she transfers from Kate's embrace to his.

"Night Dad, see you in the morning."

Alexis trudges up the sandy path, looking more worn out from her day than he realized.

He waits until he sees her bedroom window flicker with light to stand, outstretching his hand down to Kate. "Want to go for a walk on the beach?"

She scoffs.

"You really think that's a good idea for two friends attempting to remain platonic?" she questions with an arched eyebrow, but takes his hand anyway.

"I'm not taking you on a romantic stroll," he counters on a huff. Is he? "I thought you might want to collect some seashells, you know, as a memory? The night tide washes up some interesting ones."

The explanation makes her smile and as they begin to walk towards the ocean, she snakes her arm around his, slips her hand into his encompassing palm.

He's right in his assumption and they come across a plethora of shells – different shapes and sizes and colors – and she eventually has to relinquish his hand to accommodate the carrying of her haul. They don't wander far from the house, but her hands are full after only ten minutes.

"Just one more."

"Kate, where are you going to put it? How are you going to _retrieve_ it?"

She rolls her eyes and tugs him forward by the swim trunks he's been wearing in substitute for shorts all day.

"Whoa, whoa, what-"

She dumps a handful of the shells into his side pocket, smirks up at him before bending down to pluck a light pink seashell with speckled tan spots from the damp sand.

She examines the shell in the dim light of the moon from above and adds it the remainder filling her hands. He watches her as she takes inventory of her collection, taking notice of how the moonlight turns her skin porcelain, makes her hair shine gossamer, illuminating the chestnut curls that seem lighter against the soft yellow of her dress. Ethereal, he thinks, that would be the adjective he'd use if he were writing about her right then.

He sighs, wistful and unthinking. "I so want to kiss you right now." Her head jerks up, the shells in her hands clinking together at the motion. "I'm sorry," he says immediately, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Sometimes my brain to mouth filter just fails me and I-"

"I'd like to kiss you too," she murmurs, but her eyes are on the cluster of shells in her hands. "Soon, okay?"

He nods, even though rejection spreads through him like wildfire. Kate's made it clear that his feelings are not one sided, he should be thrilled, but knowing she belongs to someone else always leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Rick." She manages to cram all of the shells into one hand without dropping any and lifts her freed hand to his cheek. He leans into her touch, can't help it, and she runs her thumb back and forth over his skin. "I - you know I want you, don't you?"

His heart starts a heavy throb in his chest, bruising against his ribs as she drifts closer.

"It's never been just a friendship and I don't want us to remain in the boundaries of a friendship, but I want only you and me in a relationship. No one else."

Castle's hands graze her back before coming to a rest at her hips. "I can wait."

"You won't wait long," she promises, lifting on her bare toes to brush her lips over his in a whisper of a kiss.

She drops back down to the sand before he can reciprocate, which they both know is for the better, but it takes all of his restraint not to chase after her mouth, taste the chocolate lingering on her tongue.

"C'mon," she sighs, finding his hand and lacing their fingers. "Let's go inside."

They wash her shells in the kitchen sink and arrange them on the dining room table for the night, allowing them the opportunity to dry before she has to leave in the morning.

"Do you want some hot chocolate before bed?" he offers as she heads for the stairs.

"Sure, I'm just going to shower and change first."

He nods and goes hunting for ingredients while she ascends the steps to her bedroom. He waits until he hears the distinct hum of the shower shut off to heat up the milk, takes his time mixing in the chocolate syrup, the tiny marshmallows, and the sprinkle of cinnamon, but when she doesn't reappear in the kitchen after fifteen minutes, he decides he can just take the beverage to her.

He's inching down the hallway, being careful not to spill the reheated, steaming liquid over the mug he's filled way too high, when he hears her voice. He stops outside her door, wondering whom she's talking to, if maybe Alexis had snuck in to discuss something with her, when he realizes the conversation is one sided.  
He catches snippets of her words, muffled murmurs and exasperated sighs.

_It's been over for a while now._

_We hardly talk anymore for a reason._

_What if I don't want it to work anymore, Josh?_

Holy shit. She's breaking up with her boyfriend.

Rick slowly starts backwards, holding his breath until he reaches the stairs again. He waits a full five minutes, but just as he's about to make another attempt to deliver her lukewarm drink without eavesdropping, the door to her room swings opens. Perfect.

They meet in the middle of the hall, almost colliding – she's moving way faster than he anticipated – and he makes another cautious attempt at backpedaling without spilling the contents of the cup all over the floor.

"Hey, your cocoa was getting cold," he offers, but when he looks up from the precarious swirl of liquid, he sees her face is pinched with frustration and hurt and - shit, did she hear him outside her door? "Kate?"

She gently maneuvers the hot chocolate from his hand and takes a slow sip. Once the drink isn't practically overflowing, she begins the trek back to her room. He hesitates but follows nonetheless.

"Kate, what's the matter?" he asks, softly closing her door behind him as she sits down at the foot of her bed, cradling the porcelain cup in her hands. Her hair is still wet from her shower and the back of her shirt is stained from the excess water that's soaked through the fabric.

"I called Josh," she mutters, staring down into the drink. "I know you must have heard at least a portion of it."

He stills in front of her, prepares to stammer out an explanation or at least a string of profuse apologies, but she waves him off.

"You're about as sneaky as a baby elephant."

He huffs in mock indignation over the comment and settles down beside her.

"I wasn't trying to listen in," he murmurs as she takes another sip of her hot chocolate before placing it on her nightstand.

Rick watches her pull her knees to her chest.

"I really was going to wait until he came back to New York, but after what happened at the beach today - I couldn't. I had hoped to be a little more graceful about it, but then he started talking about how he wants me to come with him to Africa next month before I could even get a word out and I just… lost my patience." She sighs and shakes her head. "But I couldn't wait anymore."

The guilt on her face is undeserved and he slips an arm around her back, hugs her curled figure to his side. "I think it's better that you ended it now," he murmurs, dropping his cheek to the top of her head. "I don't mean to be presumptuous-"

He feels the smirk against his throat, where her lips have migrated to. "Oh?"

Castle squeezes his fingers at her nape. "_But _ever since I met you, you never seemed happy with him."

She sighs and lifts her head, skims her nose along his jaw. "I wasn't."

Her fingers rise up from her lap, dance across his cheek, nails scratching at his stubble as her eyes follow the movements of her hand. When her fingers coil at his ear, her mouth touches his jaw, moving along the bone in exploration, and his blood sizzles.

Her knees have fallen apart and one moves to slide over his lap, and he knows he needs to stop her, it's too soon for this even if she is finally single, but she's straddling him, trailing her lips down his neck, and his hands reach for her at their own accord.

It's too late then, and he crushes her to him, dips his mouth to her throat, finds her pulse with his tongue and sucks mercilessly. Her head tilts away, giving him greater access, and her hands cradle his skull, twining and clenching in his hair and encouraging the work of his tongue.

The breathless moan that falls from her lips has him travelling upwards, tracing his mouth over every patch of skin he can find, every place he's wanted to put his mouth to for so long.

"I'm happy now," she pants once his lips hover over hers.

She tastes like chocolate when he finally kisses her, like sugar and salty summer air and something else that he can't distinguish even as his tongue slips past her lips, plunges deeper.

Kate hums and urges closer, her arms roping around his shoulder, her thighs clenching at his hips. She tries to push him onto his back, but he twists them, rolls her over on the bed and presses her into the rumpled bedding. It's a move for control, because she's currently taken every ounce he's possessed for the entirety of this friendship and he needs it back.

Her spine arcs, her chest slamming against his, and he groans around her mouth, tries to breathe through the heat of pleasure and the downpour of sensation.

They need to stop. Now, before he can't.

"Kate, we can't do this yet."

Her eyes flash open and the blown pupils, the dark swirls of gold, almost have him going back on his words, has his hand spreading over the lattice of her expanding ribs and she sucks in a breath, eyes darting down to his lips and remaining there.

"I know, I know, I just - I want…" She draws him back down, gentler this time, and sucks his upper lip into her mouth, laves her tongue over the flesh. It begins gentle, it does, but her hands steal under his shirt, her palms scald his skin, and her knee rises at his hip and the spark of need that races between them isn't gentle at all.

During their first non-date, she spoke of diving in together with someone. He wants that, wants it with her, but this is not diving. This is falling in headfirst without knowing how to swim. This is sinking too deep to the bottom without any oxygen or hope of rescue.

This is drowning.

"Beckett," he growls and she releases him, breathing heavy against his mouth, and quickly turns her face away.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, but he dusts his fingers at her forehead, brushes her hair back as he peppers her face with butterfly kisses that eventually evoke a smile.

"I don't want you to be sorry, Kate," he mumbles, maneuvering his calming body from atop hers to lie beside her instead. "I just want to do this right."

"I know you do." Kate rolls to her side to face him, nuzzles into the palm her places at her cheek. "And so do I."

"Then we just need to slow this down a little."

She nods and nestles down, catching the edge of the comforter and tugging it over their bodies. She pauses before she can wrap them both in the covers, looking from him to the closed bedroom door, wordlessly asking if he'll be staying. He replies with an arm around her shoulders, tucking her against him as he had the previous night in his room after her nightmare.

"We'll be great, Castle," she whispers, watching him with tired but happy eyes from her pillow.

"I have no doubts about that," he agrees, tracing his fingers up and down the ladder of her vertebrae, a soothing motion he's learned leads her to sleep rather quickly. It proves true for a second night in a row as her eyes lull closed and her breathing falls steady.

"See you in the morning," she mumbles, curling her fingers in the collar of his t-shirt and sliding her knee between his. She had not done that last night, but he doesn't mind the new freedom of movements, not at all. He likes cuddly Kate.

Rick buries his fingers in the damp hair staining her pillow and curls her closer. "See you in the morning, Kate."


	16. Chapter 16

When she wakes, he isn't there, just like the morning before. She isn't used to being the last to wake, but she can't complain about the extra couple of hours she's been able to indulge in during her time in the Hamptons. Returning to work tomorrow will be a rude awakening that she doesn't look forward to. In more ways than one.

Kate turns her face away from the sun shining through the sheer curtains, into the pillow he used last night that still smells like him. She smiles into the pillowcase at the memories of their previous evening. She's single and she has the distinct flavor of Richard Castle lingering in her mouth.

She sits up in the bed and pulls her covered knees to her chest, propping her chin on her patella as she scans the guest bedroom she's inhabited for the weekend. She doesn't have much to pack, her toiletries already arranged neatly in their travel bag, ready to be tucked into her duffel with the meager haul of clothing she brought with her. She could easily have everything ready to go in minutes, but she's embarrassingly eager to see Rick. Deciding to put it off until after breakfast, Kate forgoes the short packing process and dresses for the day, pulling on a colorful tank top and a pair of capris. She descends the stairs on tiptoes and enters the kitchen to find Castle alone at the stove, scrambling eggs and frying bacon.

"Morning," she chimes, smiling when his head snaps up and a grin illuminates his face. He's always looked at her like she meant something, like she was important to him, but now, there's more shimmering in the bright pools of his eyes. Like he treasures her, like he could actually-

"No nightmares last night," he smirks, interrupting her thoughts. Thankfully.

"No," she confirms, floating into the kitchen to stand at his side. "Where's Alexis?"

"Still sleeping. I think she's taking full advantage of her Sunday."

Kate chuckles. "It's the day of rest. Someone might as well get their fill."

"You could have slept longer, you know. It's still early."

She nods, lists into his side. "Yeah, but I wanted to be here."

Castle turns off the stovetop burner, the eggs in the pan fluffy, yellow, and inviting, and slips an arm around her waist.

"You sure you can't stay one more day?" He nuzzles his face to her hair as she ducks away, laughing quietly at the unexpected move.

"You know I can't. Besides, you need to get some writing done while you're here."

He huffs, nudges her away as he moves to deposit the eggs onto a plate.

"Is it going okay?" she asks, still concerned for him when it comes to his work. After his confession about his lack of inspiration and the threat to be dropped by Black Pawn, her heart had sunk for him and selfish disappointment had swarmed her insides. She loves his writing, wants him to continue it for as long as he can, but most of all, she wants him to enjoy it again.

His eyes flare with light at the question though, a good sign, and he nods. "Yeah, Gina loves the new character. I only sent her an outline, but she's finally not yelling at me for once."

Kate squeezes his arm, the urge to give him a full-blown smile of excitement tempting, but she tampers it down for now. "I'm glad."

"I already have the dedication perfected too," he says, abandoning the still steaming eggs and tending to the bacon going crispy in its pan.

"I thought writers worked on acknowledgements last," she points out, but he only shrugs.

"Most of the time I don't focus on them until the end, but I have yours written down already. It was easy, thanking you."

A faint blush caresses her cheeks, but he's too busy transferring food to notice.

"You don't have to," she murmurs as an afterthought. "I mean - you don't owe me anything. You know that, right?"

Castle pauses through the process of cleaning the spatula with a dishcloth, his brow furrowed as he sets it down and comes for her. But his eyes are confident and so are his hands when they curve around her waist. She hesitates, the possibility of his daughter walking in at any moment and the slight shift in their relationship making her think twice, but her hands rise to his biceps, curling around the muscles as his forehead dips to hers.

"I owe you so much, Kate Beckett," he rumbles, his voice a low husk that sends a noticeable tremble up her spine that makes him smirk.

She rolls her eyes and tilts her chin up, causing their noses to bump and their lips to brush. "No, Castle. I owe you."

He keeps the kiss chaste, even when her tongue slicks along his bottom lip, evoking a groan that sends an arrow of heat straight to her core. Rick pulls away, but he doesn't go far, leaning his cheek to hers while his arms engulf her frame.

"When will you be back in the city, again?" she questions once her breath is steady.

"Next week, probably Friday. Alexis wants to enjoy the beach a little longer, and I do need to write, but neither one of us want to stay away too long."

She hums her acknowledgement, combs her fingers through the soft strands of hair at the base of his skull. The unexpected growl of her stomach is what breaks them apart, leaving him chuckling at her as he sets her plate on the bar.

Alexis comes shuffling in then, still in her pajamas with her hair in a messy bun atop her head.

"Morning guys," she greets, awake but still tangled in sleep with her half lidded eyes and indentions from her pillow lining her right cheek.

"Morning, Pumpkin," Castle grins, visibly amused by his daughter's evident state of disarray. From what he's told her, Alexis is usually the one who's more put together. "Sleep well?"

Alexis nods and picks at a strawberry from the bowl of fruit on the bar next to Kate while her father makes up her plate. Breakfast passes with the regular small talk as Alexis perks up and is followed by an observation of Kate's shells that remained resting on the dining table overnight.

"I'll get you a bag for those," Castle says, trotting back through the kitchen, disappearing into a pantry, leaving Kate and Alexis alone for a moment.

"Will we see you again, in the city?" Alexis questions, her expression innocent, but her eyes are skeptical, as if she expects Kate to disappear after this mini vacation.

"I hope so," Kate hedges, taking a long sip of her coffee, as if the second cup of caffeine will encourage her confidence in discussing this subject with his daughter. "The last few weeks, while you were at Oxford, I worked to see your dad around cases, and I intended to continue doing that, if you're alright with it."

Alexis' eyes widen, only a fraction, hardly noticeable, but still surprised. She's asking his daughter's permission to remain a part of her father's life, a part of _their_ lives, and by the startled look on Alexis' face, it's apparently not a common request. It makes Kate wonder if any other woman has taken the time to discuss these sorts of things with Alexis beforehand, or if they just barge into her father's world without a concern for his daughter at all.

"You make him happy," Alexis states, wrapping her arms around herself. It's a move of uncertainty that Kate recognizes, but the girl's face remains a mask of indifference. "Does he do the same for you?"

"He does," Kate admits, the corners of her mouth quirking upwards before she can control it.

"Does your boyfriend make you happy?"

Kate stiffens, an embarrassed flush heating along her skin, but she doesn't allow her gaze to waver from Alexis. She can tell his daughter the truth.

"No. I hadn't been happy with him for a while."

"Then why are you still with him?" she demands, quite but firm, the fingers curled around her arms tightening.

"I'm not."

Alexis' brow knits in confusion.

"But Dad said-"

"I was trying to wait for him to get back from a trip, so we could end things amicably." Kate sighs, cradling her coffee to her chest and resting her hip against the table, taking just a moment to rake her eyes over the multitude of shells she collected with Castle in the moonlight. "But I couldn't wait anymore."

"Kate?" Her eyes snap back to his daughter. "Don't you dare use my dad as a rebound."

"No," Kate gasps, the accusation in Alexis' eyes fierce and cutting. She hadn't even considered that, let alone considered his daughter would be concerned of her using her father in such a way. Kate swallows and runs a hand through her hair, gathering the words in her head, making sure they're right. This was important, they had to be right. "Alexis, I've had a really great time this weekend and I'm grateful to your dad for allowing me to come here and get to know you." She doesn't waver, but his daughter does soften just a little, flattered. "But I know it hasn't been enough to show you my true intentions. If you're okay with me sticking around though, I can prove them."

Alexis spares a glance over her shoulder, checking for her father and buying herself a second to think.

"Just don't hurt him," is all Alexis says in return and there is a warning in the words, cold and threatening. It's the first time she's seen the fire of protectiveness flare up in his daughter, and the part of her that isn't slightly wounded by the harshness of the statement admires her for it.

They both straighten at the sound of footsteps growing closer and have pleasant smiles plastered across their faces when Castle returns with a recyclable bag used for groceries.

"I think this will work." He holds it up and Kate nods accepting it from him with a murmur of appreciation.

"I'm going to grab my stuff and then I'll pack these up and head out," Kate announces, starting for the stairs. She's grateful when neither of the Castles follow her, needing some extra time to herself to process the conversation had with Alexis that could ultimately make or break her barely blossoming relationship with Rick. If his daughter doesn't approve, she isn't sure there's a choice for them anymore. She could never stand to be the wedge that comes between them.

"Sure you don't want to stay for lunch?" Rick asks when she's descending the stairs with her luggage slung over her shoulder.

"I would, but you know how the traffic between here and the city is during the middle of a Sunday."

He sighs, crestfallen but understanding.

"I'll walk you out then."

"Wait," Alexis pipes up from over his shoulder. "Here you go, Kate. I padded the bottom with a couple of towels so none of the shells would accidentally break."

Kate smiles as she accepts the bag of shells from Alexis, taking it as a positive sign when the teen smiles back. She has not gained Alexis' approval, but it's a start.

"I look forward to seeing you in the city again," she adds, a knowing wink to accentuate her point just before she steps forward to give Kate a brief, one armed hug.

Castle arches an eyebrow at Kate, but she only shrugs once his daughter has let her go and trotted away into the living room.

"I know you two had some sort of conversation while I was out of the room," he murmurs, stealing her duffel from her during their brief walk to the front door.

"Maybe," she teases, catching his free hand in the hallway.

"A good conversation apparently."

She chuckles as she grabs the door for him. "I hope so."

"My daughter likes you, I know she does," he says once the front door falls shut behind him.

"She's wary of me," she corrects, popping the trunk and allowing him to drop her bag inside and slam it closed for her.

"She won't be. Just give it some time. She'll learn to love you, just as much as I-"

His eyes dart up to hers, wide and surprised. She's sure hers match, but he didn't say it. Nothing serious, nothing life-altering, has been said.

Castle clears his throat. "As much as I hope to."

Her brow furrows. He's shaken the startled deer in the headlights look and covers the few steps of distance between them in the driveway to tentatively cradle her face in his large palms.

"Stop freaking out."

"I'm not," she argues, snapping out of it and flicking his side.

"You totally are, you should see your face."

She growls, but he laughs at her as he lowers his mouth for a brief claim of her lips that has the instinctual fear his accidental slip elicited simmering down into a dull roar. It isn't that she's afraid of loving him, not anymore, but she does worry about the pace of their relationship.

Alexis had a point and she does not want Castle to be a rebound, doesn't want him to ever feel like one either. The relationship with Josh had been over long before the actual breakup, but she still wants her and Castle to take their time, to do this right. He deserves to have this done right.

Rick allows her tongue past his lips, allows her to paint the inside of his mouth, to taste every piece of him she can reach, and he gives right back to her, canvassing the roof of her mouth, making her gasp as she arches into him.

They break apart panting and Kate drops her head to his chest, resting there as she catches her breath, savoring the feel of his body pressed against hers.

She doesn't look forward to a near week of his absence.

"Are we good?" he murmurs against her hairline and she nods.

"We're good, but I do need to go."

"I'll miss you," he pouts as she releases him and opens her car door.

"It's less than a week, Castle." Kate slips into her Crown Vic, rolls the window down for him once she has the engine going. "We'll still talk every night?"

She hates the hint of uncertainty in her voice, but over the course of the past two days, everything has changed, and she isn't sure where they stand anymore, still floundering somewhere between lovers and best friends.

Castle bends down, folds his arms atop window of her car, and leans in. "We're still us, Beckett. We may have changed up certain aspects of our friendship, taken it to another level, but that doesn't mean everything's going to be different."

Kate nods, diverting her gaze to the steering wheel. She doesn't expect the quick press of his lips to her cheek and it makes her smile, makes the unease of change melt away. They're still them.

Rick pulls his head out of the car and straightens, wincing at the crack of his spine. She chuckles, receives the customary glare for it as she puts the car in drive.

"Drive safe," he calls as she maneuvers out of his driveway with a wave.

She won't admit it to him, but she'll miss him too.


	17. Chapter 17

Beckett groans as her phone rings. They're in the middle of one of their easier cases, just waiting on some forensic results for now, but Ryan and Esposito had already gone home for the night, no one should be calling her except…

Kate stretches over the rim of the tub, catches the phone with her fingertips just before it can tumble from the surface of the table or knock into her glass of red wine.

"Hey Castle."

"Evening Detective, what are you wearing?"

She rolls her eyes and shifts in the bathtub, careful not to make any noise in the water. "What if I told you nothing?"

He goes quiet on the other line and she smirks, retrieving her wine and taking a long sip while she pictures his slack jawed expression.

He's just so _easy_.

"Then I would be tempted to return to the city earlier than planned," he lets out and she laughs into her glass.

"Why are you really calling me?"

"Aside from the pleasure of hearing your sultry voice, I'm stuck on a case element in the novel."

Castle's called her a few times over the last few days since she left him in the Hamptons, asking for advice and seeking clarification on certain rules and authenticities of law enforcement. Yet, despite their frequent talk of it, she still hardly knows anything about the book aside from a handful of random case details.

"Sure," she answers, resting her neck against the cool porcelain. "But tell me something first?"

"Anything."

"Tell me about the main character, the one you're supposedly basing on me." She still doesn't know how she feels about that either, being the star of a novel even if she's the only one aware of it.

"You want spoilers?" he asks in disbelief. "Katherine Beckett, I'm shocked."

"Castle, you've hardly told me anything," she complains, her voice sounding far too close to a whine for her liking.

"Just because you're my muse-"

"What did I say about that term?"

"Doesn't mean you get special privileges," he chastises her as if she hadn't spoken.

She holds back a quip about how she already has special privileges, about how she can't wait to possess even more, but she's tried to refrain from hitting him with too much sexual innuendo since he's been away. It only makes them both miserable.

"Just how much will this female detective of yours be based on me?" she demands and grins in victory when she hears his sigh of defeat.

"She's going to be really smart," he says, a hint of pride in his voice that makes her cheeks warm. "Very savvy, haunting good looks for sure, really good at her job too… and kinda slutty."

She sits up in the water, a splash of her wine spilling over the rim of the glass at the abrupt movement and tinting a sector of the water pink.

"_Excuse me_?"

"Are you taking a _bath_?"

Their exclamations come in unison, but she completely ignores his.

"That last part better be one hell of an exaggeration," she growls, but he isn't even listening to her.

"You've been naked this entire time?" he groans.

"Richard Castle," she snarls. He has the audacity to chuckle. "I hate you."

"Don't worry, Kate. Nikki Heat will be-"

"Nikki Heat?" she repeats the name with disdain. Is he serious? "What kind of a name is _Nikki Heat_?"

"A cop name," he answers and she can just picture the casual shrug to go along with it.

"It's a stripper name," she protests, setting her wine down on the small table beside the tub before the whole glass tips and turns her bath into the red sea.

"Well, I told you she was kinda slutty," he defends, amused, and she huffs, leaning back into the curve of the bath and sinking deeper into the cooling water.

"You're so lucky I'm not there," she grumbles under her breath. "I'd _make _you change it."

He sighs and she catches the sound of the chair in his office, the way it creaks when he tilts too far back. "I still wish you were here, despite your threatening nature. But how about this, Detective, what if I send you the first chapter?"

She pretends to mull it over, but she already knows what her answer will be.

Her email chimes with a new message minutes later and he teases her as she retreats from the bath to wrap herself in a towel, heading straight to her room, and pulling an oversized t-shirt over her head.

"Do you want me to leave you alone so you can snuggle up with your laptop and my words in peace?"

She rolls her eyes, grabbing her laptop from the living room and dropping it onto the untouched pillow on the unused side of her bed.

"Scared to stay on the line while I read your work?" she counters.

"Nope," he chirps. "You go right ahead. The first chapter's pretty short anyway."

She smirks as she settles in comfortably, propping a couple of pillows behind her and tugging the computer to her lap. She logs into her email, opens his message and the attachment file he included. He's quiet on the other line.

"I'm going to start reading now," she informs him.

"I'll be here." She hears the distinct tap of his fingers on a keyboard and she smiles softly to herself, finding it oddly peaceful to hear him writing on the other line while she reads the beginning of his newest story.

Kate curls her knees up and chews on her bottom lip as she reads the first line:

_It was always the same when she arrived to meet the body..._

* * *

Kate went silent after she announced she was going to begin reading the chapter he sent her. It's been only ten minutes, but he's growing nervous, knowing she has his words – words about her – sitting in front of her. He usually wouldn't do this – never lets anyone but his editor and Gina see his words before they're printed and arranged neatly within the pages of a novel – but this is Kate, and the fact that she seemed genuinely interested in his work overpowered the nerves that came with sending it to her.

Suddenly, a groan of frustration pierces the speaker of his phone and he startles in his seat, nearly sending his laptop tumbling to the ground.

"_Castle_. You ended it on a cliffhanger, you asshole."

He laughs, a little too loudly, and tries to conceal it before he wakes Alexis.

"You want chapter two? I'd hate for you to go to bed unsatisfied," he teases, already preparing the second chapter for her. The first half of the book has already been sent to his editor anyway, and it's not as if he's giving her the juicy bits, just a little teaser.

"I do that every night," she grumbles and his eyebrows hitch, his fingers pausing over the keys of his laptop. He knows exactly what she means and it makes it difficult, so difficult, to stay away from her. "I'm sorry," she murmurs, adding a chuckle to hide the obvious hint of embarrassment tinting her voice. "That was inappropriate."

"Kinda cruel too," he mutters, placing his laptop on the desk and sitting forward in his chair.

"I'll make it up to you when you come back," she murmurs, her voice that low, soft husk that sends a shudder up his spine and Rick fists a hand at his knee.

"You sure you don't want to have phone sex?"

She laughs and he grins as he pictures her burying her face in a nearby pillow to suppress it.

He glances forlornly to the calendar near the door. "Two more days."

"It'll go by fast," she yawns.

"For you," he huffs, attaching the word document to the email. "You get to solve murders all day."

"While you get to lounge around in a beachfront mansion. Poor baby," she deadpans.

"I'd offer to trade you, but the city would likely fall apart in your absence. You're like the modern day Batman. Which makes you infinitely hotter, by the way."

She chuckles and he presses 'send'. He hears the sound of her computer, the alert of a new message, and closes his own laptop for the night.

"I'm going to read this one on my own," she sighs, and he listens to her settling in - the click of a lamp turning off, the shifting of her comforter coming over her. He can picture her so easily. "But I'll text you afterwards, let you know what I think before I pass out."

"You'll call tonight?" he asks, trying to mask the concern in his voice with light curiosity. "If the nightmares happen again?"

She had called him by accident earlier in the week. He had still been awake at two that morning, still on a writing binge that started around midnight, and he had answered his phone almost mechanically when it had begun vibrating on his desk. Her choked voice had snapped him from his trance and he had talked her down from the after effects of another nightmare he had been unfortunate enough to take part in.

They had been trapped in a freezer together, according to Kate, and he hadn't survived the cold. It had something to do with an old case she'd worked before she met him, but that's all she would give.

She had apologized profusely afterwards, sounding ashamed for bothering him, and he had almost driven back to the city that night, just to assure her that everything was okay, that she could never bother him.

"Yeah, Castle," she murmurs with a hint of lingering embarrassment. "I'll call."

"Then I'll leave you to your bedtime story," he proclaims, practically feeling the eye roll he's likely receiving. "Night, love," he says softer, smiling to himself because he can actually call her that now.

"Until tomorrow," she replies, and his smile grows.

Two more days.


	18. Chapter 18

He's only been back in the city for a day and between unpacking, mailing chapters of the new novel to Gina, and spending time with Alexis, he's yet to see Kate. He had talked to her the night before, like always, but the call had been short and quiet. Kate had mentioned a case hitting close to home and told him she was going to turn in early, but he'd heard sounds of the precinct in the background, proving she wasn't thinking of turning in at all. But he didn't push, tried to respect the strain whatever case she was working had placed upon her, but she hasn't answered any of his texts today and he's starting to get worried.

The sun is setting on the horizon of the city when his phone rings, but he doesn't recognize the number.

"Castle," he answers, Kate's habit having rubbed off on him.

"Rick Castle?" a male voice asks, hesitant with a hint of worry.

"That's me," he confirms, swiveling in his office chair while he waits for the man on the other line.

"You're Beckett's… friend, right?"

He stills in his seat.

"I - yes. Why? Is something wrong? Is she-"

"She's fine," he assures Castle quickly. "Well, kind of. This is Kevin Ryan. One of her partners at the Twelfth."

Castle wracks his brain for a moment, skimming through memories from the brief time he's spent at the precinct. She's never introduced him to her partners, but he did see them the day he stopped by with coffee a couple of weeks ago. There had been a tall, built Hispanic man sharing a desk and smug smiles with a slightly smaller, blue-eyed detective with spiky brown hair. Esposito and Ryan, those were the names of her partners. He had to be talking to the latter.

"I remember you, but _kind of_?" he repeats the unsettling description.

"Her old training officer was found murdered yesterday morning. She's been working the case, but we just found a connection in Los Angeles, so our captain handed the case over to LAPD."

Castle scrubs at his eyes. He can already tell where this is going.

"She isn't happy," he concludes.

"No," Ryan admits. "And my partner and I have a bad feeling she's going to track down the killer off duty."

Yep, he definitely saw that coming. Castle rises from his seat and heads out of his office, into the kitchen to write Alexis a note. She's out catching up with friends for the evening, but she should be home within the next hour.

"How long ago did she leave?" Castle asks, setting an apple from the fruit bowl on the paper to keep in place.

"About half an hour ago. We were hoping-"

There's sounds of the phone being passed, snippets of an argument catching in the earpiece, and then a new voice fills the line.

"Richard Castle?"

"Here," he replies, snagging his keys from the bowl near the door.

"Listen man, I'm just warning you, you ain't going to be able to talk Beckett out of this."

Rick sighs as he locks up behind him and moves down the hall to the elevator, stabbing the button a little too hard.

"But I can try, and if that doesn't work, I'll just go to LA with her."

The plan sounds stupid, even to him, but these men probably know her just as well, if not better, than he does. She's told him before that her team is like a family, these boys are her brothers, and if they couldn't get her to back down… well, his chances aren't too great either.

"Bro, she's going out there to find a killer. You sure you want to be tagging along for that?"

"Better than her going at it alone," he says without hesitation. Esposito is quiet on the other line and Castle briefly wonders if this is some kind of test, a way to determine his devotion to Kate while also trying to ensure her safety.

"Whatever you two end up doing, call us at this number. We can help from here."

Castle nods before remembering they can't see him. "I'll let you know what happens," he promises while he hustles through his lobby, out to the streets, where he hails a cab.

"Good," Esposito mumbles. He hears a faint shout of _thank you _that belongs to Ryan in the background before the line disconnects.

He bribes the cabbie with an extra twenty and arrives at Kate's within fifteen minutes, just in time. She answers the knocks on her door with a handful of clothes slung over her arm. Her suitcase is open on the couch, half filled.

"Hey Castle," she greets without even looking at him, leaving him at the door and striding back to her bedroom.

He huffs and tugs the door shut behind him before following her. It's the first time they've seen one another in nearly a week and she can barely even acknowledge him? Did she miss him at all?

"Going somewhere?" he questions, leaning against the bedroom doorway while she flies around the room, grabbing essentials from her bathroom, plucking another blouse from her closet.

"Yeah, I was just about to text you. I have to go out of town for work."

He purses his lips at the lie, feels the disappointment well up in his chest.

"You don't have a case in LA, Kate."

She freezes in the closet, the line of her body coiling in defense.

"How do you know anything about that?" she demands, stalking out of the closet, eyeing him like a predator ready to attack.

He doesn't want to rat out Ryan and Esposito, so he shrugs. "It doesn't matter."

"Don't give me that bullshit," she spats. "Someone from the precinct called you."

"They're worried about you," is all he gives up. "They know you're too close to this one."

She shakes her head, disbelief and anger in her eyes, but he has a feeling it's all to mask the hurt, the grief of losing her training officer.

"I don't need a babysitter, Rick. Go home."

Castle clenches his fist at the flippant dismissal and catches her by the wrist when she turns away. "If you're going to do this, I'm coming with you."

Kate's eyes flutter closed and he watches as she takes a deep breath before opening them again, looking not the least bit calmer.

"I'm not taking you to LA with me."

"Well, I'm not letting you go alone."

"This isn't your decision to make," she snaps, wrenching her wrist from his grasp and crossing her arms over her chest. "Royce was my friend and I _refuse _to sit around and let his killer roam free."

"You don't think the LAPD can catch him?" he asks, keeping his voice even.

Her nostrils flare. "Not as fast as I can."

"Kate, I know you're probably one of the finest detectives in this entire country, but defying your captain's orders, going rogue and investigating illegally, isn't that kind of frowned upon in your line of work?"

She wavers, for just a split second, but then she breezes past him, going for her suitcase on the couch.

"I won't let justice for Royce be lost, too," she mutters, folding clothes with trembling hands.

His heart aches for her, for her mistrust in the system that she works so hard to do right by. He's never had the privilege of watching Detective Beckett in the field, but he knows she's good at her job, probably better than good. She has a rare trait he doesn't see in most cops. She knows what it's like to be a victim, to live in the agony of not knowing, and she fights hard to prevent others from suffering the same fate. But deep down, it scares him that one day her drive, her tenacity, will push her too far, that it'll get her killed.

Castle steps up behind her, notices her body tense at the nearness, but he only wraps his arms around her, pressing his chest to her back and holding onto her as the line of her spine starts to quiver. She abandons her packing process and rotates in the circle of his arms, banding her own around his torso while she hides her crumbling face in his neck.

"I'm sorry, Kate," he whispers, pressing a kiss to her neck through the curtain of her hair, and she tightens her arms around him before she turns her head, her nose skating along his cheek.

"The last time I spoke to him," she murmurs, her voice an unsteady rasp. "I was arresting him. And I was so _angry_, Castle, because he had hurt me and ruined our friendship, but I always thought… I never thought I wouldn't get to talk to him again."

Kate sighs and he feels her fingers digging into his back, trying to regain some of the control this new dose of grief has stolen from her.

"You think I would be better at handling loss by now," she whispers.

Rick lifts a hand to her skull, cradling the back of her head and dusting a kiss to her temple. He wishes there was something he could do, anything to ease the pain he can hear in the fragile tremor of her voice, but he has nothing.

But maybe… maybe he could try to help with the other tragedy consuming her life.

"Kate?"

She knocks her forehead into his jaw, rests there for a moment before answering. "Hmm?"

"Have you ever thought about reopening it, your mom's case?"

Kate jerks back from him, her eyes flickering up to meet his with harsh scrutiny and apprehension. His hands are still gripping her waist and he squeezes, gentle and assuring, but her body is like stone, all hard edges and rigid curves.

"Why?" she says, the word dry and papery as it falls from her mouth.

He shrugs, trying to bring her back to him, to ease this tension that's wrapped around her. "I was just thinking that maybe if we tried to work together on it-"

"_No_." She steps back from him again, dislodging his touch this time and crossing her arms against him.

"I – I just wanted to say that I had resources, so if you ever-"

She's looking at him like he's slapped her, but he doesn't understand, doesn't understand the wounded look combined the sudden ferocity in her eyes. He just wants to help.

"Castle." He's never heard his own name infused with so much dread, so much contained anger. "This is not even an option, do you hear me?" He wants to answer, to assure her that he's definitely listening, but Kate isn't finished. "You don't think I haven't been down there, you don't think I haven't memorized every line in that file? You saw my fucking murder board," she grinds out, but her eyes are glittering and the rapid blink of her lashes is the only thing keeping the spill of tears from staining her cheeks. "But you haven't seen what it can do to me, Rick. It – it eats me alive and I become so…" She has to stop, swallow down the lump in her throat and exhale steadily through her nose. "It took me a year of therapy to realize that if I didn't let it go, it was going to destroy me, and so I let it go. If I go down that rabbit hole again, Castle… I don't think I'll be able to crawl back out."

She still isn't looking at him and Rick doesn't want to take the risk of touching her, of upsetting her further, but his curiosity – his stupid, uninhibited curiosity – creeps up his throat, onto his tongue, and prods his lips open.

"But - Kate, the wall?" he reminds her softly. She's never exactly confirmed it for him, but ever since she spoke of the walls around her heart, the cement towers that restrict her in relationships and life, he's learned the reason for the protection.

Her mother's death caused Kate to seal her heart away, locking it up tight, never able to free it again even if she wanted to. Without the demolition of that wall, he isn't sure they have a chance, no matter how much he loves her.

She gives his chin a sad smile, still not meeting his gaze, and he feels his heart, vulnerable and unprotected from her, crack.

"I want closure, Castle. I want justice." He nods, resigned to the fact that this is how it ends. What else can he do but accept her gentle rejection? He can't give her what she needs, he understands, even if it is shredding his heart to pieces. "But I also want this," she murmurs, extending a tentative hand to his chest, fingers catching in the collar of his shirt and stealing his surprised breath. "I want you and a life that doesn't revolve around death. Maybe one day, I hope, I can find the justice my mom deserves, but for now…" Her fingers climb to his neck, coax him closer until he's barely an inch away from her, leaning forward to catch every soft spoken word that streams from her lips. "I just want you."

When her eyes rise to his, they've shifted from the blazing shade of brown that had threatened him away in the beginning of this conversation to a gentle hazel that shines with the hints of sparkling gold.

"You do?" he whispers and she laughs, a watery, choked thing, but a laugh nonetheless.

"I do," she confirms with the gentle beginnings of a smile. "I told you that you make me happy," she reminds him, stroking her thumb over the thriving pulse of his neck. "And my mom, she would want me to choose happiness."

He presses his lips to her forehead to keep the words from slipping free, to keep the declarations of love searing his tongue from spilling into the space between them. He's just so proud of her, so in awe of her strength, her heart.

"So," she murmurs, clearing her throat. "You can call Ryan and Esposito now, tell them I'm staying home. This time."

He chuckles, thankful for the transition. "You sure? I could get us a great reservation at this amazing hotel in right in the middle of Hollywood and then we could do a couples massage-"

"Castle," she huffs, playfully smacking his arm as she pulls away, grabbing her bag from the couch and dropping it to the floor. "Can you just…" She plops down on the sofa, staring up at him with wide eyes still clouded with hurt. "Stay with me?"

He settles down beside her, slipping his arms around her shoulders, sighing as her head comes to a rest above his heart.

He cards his fingers through the disheveled strands of her hair. "I'll stay."

She hums and snuggles in closer to him.

"And Rick," she murmurs. "Welcome home."


	19. Chapter 19

Castle knocks on her door, rocks forward impatiently on the balls of his feet, swinging the bottle of wine in his grasp. That was the deal for movie nights at her place - he brings the wine and she makes the popcorn. He can already smell the distinct mixture of butter and microwavable popcorn wafting from her kitchen, a hint of burnt kettle accompanying the scent, and he smirks at the idea of Kate burning even the simplest forms of a snack.

It's been a few days since they've been able to hang out like this, just the two of them. Shortly after passing Royce's case to the LAPD and keeping close tabs on the arrest of Russell Ganz, Kate had been swept up in the murder of a pageant queen. She'd come over to the loft for dinner a couple of times, often staying late and going over case notes with him on the couch, but she and her team had caught their killer today and she had suggested their customary celebration routine of staying in with a movie.

She had sounded excited on the way home from the precinct, teasing him about movie choices and offering him advice to relay to Alexis about colleges. The two of them had been conspiring about which school would be best for her over the past week as well, usually meeting in his daughter's room before dinner and going over applications without him. Because they all know where he wants Alexis to go to school and it's not in England, or California.

But his daughter bonding with Kate in any way at all - even if it does involve the two of them ganging up against him - is a huge step that causes his hope for the future to burst at the seams.

He's in high spirits tonight, his lips already curling at the edges and he hasn't even seen her yet, but when Kate wrenches her front door open, she doesn't look quite as happy to see him.

"Rick." She glances over her shoulder, visible tension lining the creases of her face. "I-"

"Who is it, Kate?" he hears suddenly, and Beckett rubs at her forehead.

"Ah." Castle doesn't have to guess to know whom the gruff male voice belongs to.

"I didn't expect him to come here," she murmurs, taking a step towards him, but Rick backpedals. She still hasn't answered Josh.

And he's not exactly thrilled to hear her ex from inside her apartment.

"I should go then, leave you two alone."

"No," she protests, confusion lacing her brow as she reaches for his forearm. "Castle, I don't want-"

"Kate, I came here to talk to you, now who-"

For a moment, the three of them are all frozen in her apartment doorway. Josh's eyes dart from her to Rick to the hand curled around Castle's arm before they narrow on the writer.

"Is this the guy you spend all your time with now?"

Her lips purse and she spares a glance at her ex. "Josh, stop-"

"The reason you could never answer your phone or make time for a Skype call? The reason you broke up with me?" he demands, rage slowly simmering to the surface.

"It's none of your business," Kate grits out, and the words seem to fuel Josh's anger.

"I knew you were messed up, but I never figured you for a cheater, Kate," he fires, taking an intimidating step closer, and Castle instinctively moves to stand in front of Beckett.

"That's enough," Rick snaps, gaining the giant's unwanted attention, but standing his ground. "You have no right to talk to her like that."

"_I _have no right?" Josh challenges incredulously. "Says the man who made a move on _my _girlfriend while I was busy saving lives," he sneers and Castle feels his frustration rise, the underlying irritation towards this man that's been repressed for weeks now boiling over.

"You weren't there for her, you never have been. Can't blame her for choosing a more stable option." Castle shrugs, sees how the casual gesture elicits an irritated tic in the other man's jaw.

"And what is it you do again? Write books? What kind of difference are you making in the world, Mr. Castle?"

He hears Kate growl at his back, her hand sneaking to curl around the waistband of his jeans to hold him steady, hold him back. He hadn't realized how ready he'd been to jerk forward, to fight. The touch doesn't go unnoticed by Josh, but instead of feeling the sense of pride that comes with Kate literally siding with him, a hint of dread comes alive in Rick's stomach.

He assumes on a normal day, Josh isn't necessarily a bad guy, but tonight, with a bruised ego and blistering temper, he looks like he wants to hit someone. And Castle won't allow that person to be Kate.

"There's really no point in arguing about this," Castle concludes, deciding he should at least try to end this on a civil note. "Why don't you just go?"

It's the wrong thing to say.

Josh's fist hits him square in the jaw and Rick staggers back against the door, the force of the blow sending his body and the metal door into the wall, the bottle of wine to the ground. He hears a picture crash behind him, feels the wine spread across the floor and seep into his clothes, and then he hears Kate - the sound of a loud slap resounding through the air followed by her shouting as he opens his eyes to see her defending his slumped figure, her bare feet entrenched in red liquid.

"Get out," she growls, her voice dangerously low.

"You're the one who-"

"We are done," she snaps. "I don't even know why you showed up here in the first place. Now leave."

"Because you ended a serious relationship for this-"

"I said to get out of my apartment," Castle listens to her practically snarl and underneath the sizzling ache, he admires the ferocity of her anger, the fire in her voice. "_Now_," she reiterates, her patience slipping with every second. "Before I arrest you for trespassing."

"Tell him I said good luck," he catches the grumble of Josh's parting words. "He'll need it if he wants something with you."

Castle grunts, tries to push himself up from the ground so he can get up and defend her honor or something. He wants to stand beside her and tell Josh he already _has_ something with her, more than doctor superman ever did. But Rick's vision is still pretty hazy and he ends up remaining glued to the floor watching Kate stand sentry in her open doorway, intimidating as hell, until he hears the sound of the elevator opening. And then she's rushing to him.

"Castle," she breathes, dropping to her knees in front of him, and he wishes she'd be careful, she _needs _to be careful, and watch out for the glass littering her floor. Her cool fingers slide beneath his to cradle his throbbing face. "Oh, Castle, I'm sorry. So sorry."

He winces, tries not to lean away from the gentle strokes of her fingertips that now trail like fire on his skin. His jaw feels unhinged, like it could fall from his face at the slightest movement. He wants to tell her it's okay, that she has nothing to be sorry for, but talking is yet to be an option.

"I'll file assault charges on him in the morning, I swear."

Rick squeezes her wrist, brushes his thumb over the delicate bone.

"No," he grunts. Carefully, he attempts to stretch his jaw, feels the throbbing intensity, but it stays attached. "Not necessary," he croaks.

Kate's lips purse, but she lets it go for now, focuses on helping him up from the floor. After she escorts him to the kitchen and places a bag of frozen corn in his hand, she goes back to lock the door.

"I'll clean," he mumbles as she tiptoes over the red puddle of wine and glass shards in her entryway.

She steals the paper towels from him when he attempts to move towards the mess, plants the cleaning supplies back on the counter he swiped them from. She's mindful of his jaw when she winds her arms around his neck, curls her body into his, and he doesn't hesitate in returning the embrace, in holding her to him as tightly as he can.

"I'm so sorry I dragged you into this mess," she rasps against his neck. "I should have called, warned you... He came here just a few minutes before you did, insisting we talk about the breakup. I didn't think it could hurt to tell him that it was over in person too."

"You still accomplished that," he points out, quietly because he's still attempting not to move his mouth as he numbs his jaw with frozen vegetables.

"And got you knocked out in the process."

"I was not knocked out," he mutters indignantly.

"Injured," she corrects, and he can hear the guilt in her voice, but he doesn't want her feeling guilty. He's thrilled that Josh is finally out of her life. And out of their way for good. He just can't properly express it yet.

"I'll take a punch for you any day, Kate Beckett."

She huffs a gentle laugh, lifts her head from his chest. He's kissed Kate before, more than once, but when she rises on her toes, reverently brushes her lips over his, it feels like the first time.

He sets down his impromptu ice pack, uses his freed hand to slip his fingers into her hair instead. She keeps it chaste for his sake, delicate brushes of their lips, the occasional sweep of her tongue, and he hopes his jaw heals quickly, because now that he has the freedom to do this, he won't be able to wait very long.

* * *

"Castle, go shower. I'll clean this."

"Kate-"

She swats at his hand as he tries to rob her of the mop.

"Shower," she persists, nudging him with the cleaning tool.

They're both a mess, sticky with wine, and she thinks she may have a piece of glass stuck in her foot, but he doesn't need to know that.

"Rick."

"Fine," he relents with a huff, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender as he backs away and finally disappears into her bedroom.

Kate waits until she hears the water running to make her first attempt at soaking the wine from the floor, covering the expanse of the mess with absorbent paper towels and scooping them up once they've turned the bright red of the liquid. It takes her a few more strips of the towels, but eventually the wood of her floor is visible again and not a red sea in her entryway.

She sweeps the shards of glass from the sticky floor and then puts the mop to good use for the first time in months. By the time Rick emerges from her bedroom in nothing but a towel, the floor is cleansed, the framed cassette collage is back on the wall, and she's working on getting the pesky bit of glass from the sole of her washed foot.

"Shit, did you step in glass?" he murmurs, coming up to her in the middle of the kitchen, where she's balancing on one foot, trying to pinch the shard from her skin.

"Just a small piece," she answers, attempting to keep her eyes from falling to his waist and the loosely cinched towel covering him. "I'll put your clothes in the washer for you."

"It's just my jeans that need washing, but let me look at your foot first."

She huffs and hops onto the counter behind her, allows him to lift her leg and peer down at the injured plane of flesh. Castle studies the sliver of glass, not very big, but still large enough to see. He positions his thumbs on each side of the entry point, applies enough pressure to have the glass protruding outwards. She watches, amused and impressed with his attentive concentration, as he pinches the glass between his index and thumbnail, glides it from her skin without her even feeling the extraction.

"Alexis did that once," he murmurs by way of explanation as he tosses the glass in the trash bin and washes his hands at the sink.

"Thanks, super dad," she grins, perching her hands on his bare shoulders when he moves to stand between her knees. "How's the jaw?"

He shrugs, splays his palms at her sides and she squeezes her knees at his thighs, watching as his eyes darken.

"Pretty excruciating," he admits, flinching at the press of her hand to his jaw before slowly relaxing into the touch. "I took some of the Advil you had in your bathroom."

"I don't mind," she says, but she's hardly listening to him, focusing solely on his mouth and its growing closeness.

Her legs wrap around his waist when their lips collide, dragging his body forward, sealing his chest to hers, clenching her thighs around his hips, and feeling her heart skip at the ragged groan in his throat as her hands begin a heated exploration along his naked flesh, mapping his bare chest, roaming to his back, and coming to a halt at the edge of the towel. His fingers snag hers before she can dismantle the material, pinning both hands above her head, pressing her knuckles into the brick of the makeshift stairs of books that line the wall.

Her head falls back to the brick at the swoop of his mouth along her neck. They had planned to watch a movie tonight, before Josh had come over and disrupted everything, and she had dressed casually, but with Rick in mind. The soft fabric of her sweater catches on his fingertips as one of his hands abandons her restrained wrists, gliding down the exposed skin between her collarbones, tripping fingers over her abdomen to hook in the dark denim of her skinny jeans.

A breathless moan flows from her lips when he presses deeper between her legs. His hips cradle hers perfectly, bones fitting like long lost puzzle pieces, and she arches forward for more, for the exquisite crush of his body against hers.

Castle spills her name into the hollow of her throat, his breath hot and gasping, like steam on her skin, and releases her hands. Only to fist his in the towel slipping from his waist and _why _is he moving away?

"Castle-" she husks, her voice like charcoal, but he shakes his head, panting through the arousal she felt behind the curtain of his towel.

"Not tonight," he murmurs and she growls, using her liberated hands to draw him back to her, close enough to scrape her teeth at the untouched side of his jaw.

They've waited for so long, she doesn't want to wait anymore.

"Kate," he groans, burying his fingers in the loose waves of her hair, and tugging her back. And damn it if that doesn't turn her on even more. "Soon."

He kisses her cheek, nudges her nose as he dusts a soft kiss to her lips. Beckett sighs and gives in to the delicate dance of his lips, the delicious but unsatisfying brush of his mouth before he turns away and strides for the bedroom, leaving her slumped and frustrated on her countertop.


	20. Chapter 20

He wants her. Badly.

And she wants him back - that much is abundantly clear - and maybe he should allow them what they're both aching for. But he wants their first time to be… well, perfect.

_God, he's such a girl._ But this tension, the electricity between he and Kate, has been building since the day they first met, and he doesn't want to finally succumb to the magnificence of being with her in a way he's only dreamed of when his face is in agony and her ex-boyfriend's presence is still lingering in the apartment.

He sighs and drops the towel once he's enclosed in the safety of Kate's bathroom. He tugs his boxers on and his t-shirt, but leaves the pants. He tried scrubbing the wine out in the sink, but even if he succeeded, they're still too damp to wear home. He could always just ask Kate if he could use her dryer or maybe the hairdryer on the vanity would work…

"Castle?"

He jerks at the call of her voice outside the door and scrubs a hand down his face. He's way too on edge for this.

"Yeah?"

"You decent?"

Rick opens the door in response, finds her on the other side with an expectant expression. "Are you staying?"

"Staying… here?" he asks. Kate rolls her eyes and surprisingly, it calms the fast-paced flow of his blood, soothes the whirlwind of his nerves. They had an amazing make out session on her countertop, but there's no need to make it awkward. "You want me to?"

She shrugs, diverting her eyes to the ground and shuffling her feet. "If you don't think Alexis will mind you being out for the night."

It's not the answer he was going for, but he retrieves his phone from the bathroom counter, shoots a quick text to his daughter for Kate's benefit. She's still walking on eggshells around his daughter even if they are growing closer, but Alexis knew he would be out for the night, she knew he probably wouldn't return until after she had retired to her bed. His daughter's approval for a sleepover is the last of his worries.

"She won't mind, Kate," he assures her.

"Well, do you?"

His brow furrows and Rick moves to step closer to her, but Kate backs away, arms crossed over her chest - not defensive, but protective. But protecting herself from him? He doesn't understand.

"Do I what?"

She sighs, pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and looks to her bare feet. "Are you… attracted to me?"

He almost laughs in disbelief, but she isn't joking. Kate seems to genuinely fear he doesn't want her.

"How could I not be?" he responds, but she only shrugs.

"Out there," she mumbles, tilting her head towards the bedroom doorway. "When we - you wanted to stop."

Castle scrubs at his jaw, the feel of her skin still carved into the whorls of his fingertips, while Kate continues to avoid his eyes.

"Unless that towel I had on was thicker than I thought, I'm pretty sure you could feel how much I wanted you." Her gaze flickers up, still uncertain, skeptical, but a gentle smirk teases along the edges of her lips. "Kate, your boyfriend was just here-"

"Ex," she amends, her voice a hint sharper. "It's been over since the Hamptons, even before that, and you know it."

"My point is I don't want our first time to be after your ex pretty much broke my face."

She scrapes a hand through her hair and looks away again.

"Trying to make it special, Castle?" she murmurs around a small grin and he huffs, plays into the mock indignation to keep her lips upturned.

"Any time with you would be special, love."

She smacks him on the arm, eyes rolling as she bypasses him for the bathroom, but he only smiles and plops down on her bed when she shuts the door.

He plucks a book from her nightstand while he waits for her to change, traces the cover of the old paperback with curiosity. The edges of the novel are singed, the cover nearly blackened. It's as if the book had been through a fire and would have turned to ash if it had been rescued a second later. Kate returns in a loose t-shirt and leggings, her sweater and jeans a pile in her arm.

"I'm sorry about tonight," she sighs as she drops the clothing in her closet. "I'd been looking forward to it."

Castle sets the burned book down in his lap. "You were looking forward to popcorn and a movie on your couch?"

She shrugs, crawling onto the opposite side of the bed. "I was looking forward to making out with you during the movie."

"You got me to come over here under false pretenses?" he gasps. "Katherine Beckett, I never…"

She smirks but notices the book in his lap then and carefully slips her fingers around the delicate paperback.

"Snooping through my stuff, seems like we're pretty even, hmm?" she teases as she gently tucks the novel into the top drawer of her nightstand.

"Are you going to tell me the story behind that book or are you going to make me use my imagination?" he prods and she sighs while she lifts the comforter, slips her legs beneath the sheets and holds it up as he does the same.

"Did you see what book it was?"

"No, I couldn't make out the cover and I thought if I opened it, it might fall apart," he admits, digging his elbow into his pillow and propping his cheek on his knuckles.

Kate tucks her arm beneath her pillow, elevating it slightly as she rests her head there, staring up at him with a signature shyness that he's come to recognize right before she shares a piece of herself with him.

"It's Flowers For Your Grave," she confesses, biting her lip as his eyebrows hitch.

"You… my book?"

She chuckles and nods. "You signed it for me."

"I did?" he gapes, immediately searching his memory, searching for a younger version of her, a glimpse of her face.

"You won't remember me, Castle," she murmurs with a smile. She always complains that he reads her too well, that he notices too much, but she's just as perceptive with him. There's little he can hide from her and with anyone else, he thinks that would terrify him. "And that's okay," she continues when he fails to respond. "I wouldn't expect you to. It was years ago and I was one of hundreds of people at that book signing."

He frowns and drops his head to his pillow, glaring up at the ceiling. "But I want to remember you," he grumbles. "You were probably so adorable."

Kate appears above him, her hair falling in chestnut curtains around their faces. "I was a mess, and you saw that."

Another wave of disappointment washes over him, a desperation to recall their true first meeting.

Kate distracts him with the touch of her fingers at his forehead, soft tips brushing the fringe of his bangs back, combing through his hair and soothing the headache lining his skull.

"After my mom died, I needed a scenario where the good guy wins. Where justice is served and peace is found, and your books… I found Flowers For Your Grave in an old bookstore one morning, read it while I was training in the academy, and it gave me what I needed. All of your books did."

He doesn't know what to say, doesn't know how to put the swarm of emotions crowding his chest into words.

"When I met you, I was still… I wasn't doing too well, but you smiled at me and signed my book and it meant a lot to me."

"Really?" he whispers and she nods, smiling down at him.

"It's always been important to me, but last year there was this case and the killer got a little… obsessed with me. Blew up my apartment while I was taking a shower."

The breath whooshes out of him, the image of her home in flames with her surrounded by the blaze causing his heart to still.

"Hey," she mumbles, tugging at his ear and forcing him to meet her gaze. "Stop, I'm right here."

He swallows and brushes her hair back out of habit, encouraging her to continue with her story.

"The cast iron tub protected me from the worst of the explosion, so as soon as I could move, I darted straight to my room, found clothes that weren't on fire, grabbed my mom's ring, my dad's watch, and your book."

"All while you were naked?"

She smacks his chest, but they're both chuckling at the image she's painted.

"And please tell me you caught the guy," he says, holding his breath as he waits for her answer because the possibility of this psycho still out there planning his next attack on her makes his stomach twist.

"Yeah, we had the FBI on our side, which made things difficult at times, but ultimately helped us get him."

"You sure you won't let me shadow you sometime? You're like a goldmine when it comes to inspiration," he points out, trailing his hand up and down her back, dragging her t-shirt a little higher with each sweep of his fingers.

"Mm, maybe one day," she murmurs, sinking down against him, dusting her lips over his jaw, delicate and soothing. "For now, I think I'll just inspire you in other ways."

"Fair compromise," he decides, curling an arm around her shoulders and indulging in the soft press of her lips settling over his.

He could get used to nights in Kate Beckett's bed.


	21. Chapter 21

She wakes the next morning with Castle at her back, his arm slung low at her waist and his face nuzzled into the curve of her shoulder. Kate smiles softly, tracing her fingers over the hand draped across her stomach, splayed possessively over her abdomen. She would stay, revel in the warm press of his body and the subtle glow of sunlight spilling onto her sheets, if she wasn't in need of a trip to the bathroom.

Without waking him, she slips free of his hold and tiptoes to her bathroom. She snags the dress shirt folded neatly on the edge of her sink, fingering the expensive, maroon material. She really shouldn't tease, not after last night, but the temptation of seeing his reaction wins out and she sheds the oversized t-shirt and leggings she had worn to bed and slips his button up on instead, rolling the sleeves up to her elbows and working only three of the middle buttons into place.

When she returns from the bathroom, he hasn't moved, still peacefully asleep, and she exits her bedroom without making a sound, heading to the kitchen in silence and starting the coffee machine.

She'll give him a morning he'll never forget.

* * *

The rich smell of dark roast coffee coaxes him awake, the aroma close and calling for him. His eyes flutter open to streaks of sunlight slipping through thick curtains and it's then that he remembers exactly where he is.

Castle sits up just as Kate is coming through the bedroom doorway, two steaming cups in hand, and nothing but his shirt on her body.

"Hey," she greets with a smile he could only describe as dazzling. She's always beautiful, but today with the soft waves of her hair framing her face, the morning sunlight kissing her cheeks, the fabric of his shirt wrapped around her body - she's left him speechless.

"Morning," he finally manages, sitting up for the coffee she holds out for him. "How long have you been up?"

Kate eases down onto his side of her bed, next to his hip, and sips her coffee while she shrugs. "Maybe half an hour."

"And you, uh - had to change?"

Her eyes glitter with mischief, her lips quirking with the hint of a devious smirk, and now he _knows _her reasoning for the wardrobe change. She wanted to fluster him and it's worked effortlessly.

"It looked comfortable. I figured I would just try it on," she replies with another shrug of feigned innocence.

Castle decides to play along, setting his barely touched coffee down on the nightstand and leaning forward, skimming a hand up her arm, up to her shoulder.

"It definitely fits well," he concedes, toying with the collar, brushing his thumb along the skin of her throat, following the swallow that descends down the pillar of her neck. Kate watches him from beneath the hood of her lashes, questioning his motives and how far he'll let this go on.

Maneuvering the covers from around his waist, he draws her closer, stealing her near empty coffee mug from her fingers and depositing it next to his.

"I have the day off," she mentions, biting her lip and fiddling with one of the few buttons she actually bothered to fasten.

"Oh?" Castle grins, but his heart is pounding as she rises on her knees before him and his hands curl around her hips, feeling the defined bones beneath the thin material of his shirt. "Me too."

She chuckles and cradles his face in her small hands, splaying her fingers wide over his skin.

"How's your jaw?"

He flexes the site of his injury by reflex, winces at the twinge of pain, but it isn't nearly as bothersome as it was the night before. "Sore, but it wouldn't prohibit me from any activities," he murmurs, waggling his eyebrows and she grins softly as she touches her fingers to the bruised skin.

"Castle?"

He realizes his eyes have been grazing the exposed skin of her thighs and he shoots her an apologetic look, but she shakes her head before sinking down, into his lap. The pressure of her, the snug fit of her body, sets his skin aflame.

"Last night, when you showed up at my door and heard Josh, you looked hurt," she murmurs, her eyes shining with apologies. "And resigned."

The latter observation surprises him, causes the wildfire in his veins to dull as he meets her gaze. He wouldn't deny that hearing her ex-boyfriend inside her home had unsettled him, but he thought he'd had a better poker face in front of her.

"Did you think I was going to take him back?" she questions, her brow furrowed deep, her eyes luminous but confused and beseeching.

"I wasn't sure, Kate," he admits, and he can see that it hurts her, the lack of faith, but it isn't her fault, she isn't the one who instilled the trust issues. "The first girl I ever loved," he starts with a sigh, squeezing her hips. "She left me for better opportunities, a better life. My first wife cheated on me with her director. My second wife… well, I'm not even sure how I screwed that one up, but the point I'm trying to make here is that I - I'm used to being more of a second choice." He shrugs, determinedly not looking at her, zeroing in on one of the still-fastened discs on his shirt instead. "I trust you, I even… you know how I feel about you, but I wouldn't have been surprised if you chose a world saving doctor over-"

The ferocity of the kiss she presses to his mouth rocks him backwards, the pillows behind him the only thing keeping him upright, but she pulls away a moment later, traps his skull between her hands, forcing him to look at her.

"I am not those women, Castle," she says, her voice firm and fierce, how she usually sounds at the Twelfth where she's always in command. "And you will never be my second choice."

His heart swells, and he feels stupidly unmanly for it, but his eyes sting too, and he buries his face in the warmth of her neck just until the threat of tears recedes. Kate's fingers comb through his hair as she presses her cheek to his temple.

"I told you, Castle, I just want you," she murmurs, lips brushing the shell of his ear. "You're-" Her breath catches for just a moment, but she exhales steadily, calms whatever part risked panic at the admission she's prepared to give. "You're it for me," she whispers, like it's a secret. "Only you, no one else."

Castle lifts his head, finds her watching him with a hesitant smile. Her fingers slip from his neck, down to her own chest, where she closes her thumb and index finger around the highest button of his shirt, sliding the disc free of its fastening. He doesn't stop her, only waits until she's reached the final button and the shirt hangs open, giving him only a glimpse of the silk skin hiding beneath.

His hands venture past the opening, skimming her sides, splaying over her ribs, devoting the soft curves, the warm skin and arches of bone to memory. He'll memorize every second, every sound and sight, love her with eyes wide open.

Kate shrugs his shirt from her shoulders, her pale skin shining in the sunlight, and he wants to tell her he loves her, but he swallows the words, just in case. Just in case she isn't ready. But then she leans forward in his lap, all of that bare skin pressing against him as she rests her forehead to his.

"Love me, Castle."

For a second he can't breathe, his heart seizing in his chest, but it's only a moment, and he forgets about regaining oxygen in favor of taking her mouth. She moans, soft and yearning, and curls her fingers around the edge of his t-shirt, tugging it upwards. The shirt flies over his head, towards her dresser, and he cradles her jaw in his hands, holds her steady as he leans in to kiss her once more, but stopping when their lips are just a breath apart.

"I already do."

* * *

**A/N: Friendly warning, the next chapter will be rated M. **


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Just a reminder to note the rating change.**

* * *

She presses her lips to his collarbone, traces the hard line of bone with her teeth and tongue to the hollow of his throat, where the touch of her mouth makes him grunt. She loves his upper body, loves the broadness of his chest and the toned path down to his abdomen. She splays her fingers over his exposed stomach, feels the muscles jump and ripple at her touch. Kate smiles and lets him catch her lips with his, kissing her with reverence that quickly escalates into something more powerful. She clutches his shoulders, holding on as his tongue plunders, robs her of breath, and then the hands at her back tug her closer, sealing her naked flesh to his, burning her.

She moans, the anticipation of more driving her body crazy with desire, and she's prepared to push him to his back, but Castle flips them before she has the chance, pinning her down and settling above her. She gasps in surprise, breathless and amazed at how the weight of him above her is just perfect, their bodies aligned, fitting effortlessly. She's never had this with anyone else.

"Castle, please," she groans, her hips rising upwards to meet his, searching for the friction that sends the familiar jolts of electricity through her bloodstream.

Rick snags the waistband of her underwear and she lifts her hips eagerly – _yes, yes, get them off -_ and waits for him to tug the black cotton down her legs, but once she's finally bare beneath him and he's shed his own underwear as well, he doesn't return to rest atop her.

He feathers his lips at the inside of her thigh, over the sharp bones of her hips, but his eyes are glued to her face, studying her, and laughing at her too, finding amusement in her desperation. She digs her nails into his scalp, pulls at his hair, but he only shakes her off, trails his mouth closer to where she needs him. But she doesn't want - she wants him with her, inside her, everything and – _oh_.

She gasps at the glide of his tongue, the hot brush of his lips, the slow circle of his finger. The coiling heat in her abdomen clenches tighter, threatening to unravel, and she bites her lip against it. He's hardly even touched her, but she's already embarrassingly close to the edge, the anticipation of this moment building for so long and can he just-

His finger slides inside her just as his mouth closes around her clit and she jerks into him, sobs his name as she begs for more. She never begs, never pleads, not in bed, but it's too good and the white-hot wash of release is worth every broken cry she allows him to hear.

* * *

He waits until the violent tremors of her body soften into gentle ripples that travel up her spine, watches the way her fingers twitch and her eyes blink against the receding waves of pleasure to see him. The smile that stretches her lips is lazy and sated, her body a boneless piece of art splayed across her sheets, and she reaches for his wrist near her hip, tugging halfheartedly. He drops one final kiss to her stomach before acquiescing the pull of her tightening fingers, crawling up her body, dusting his lips along the intricate framework of her ribs, over the slopes of her breasts and the exquisite pillar of her throat.

He grows distracted at the stretch of skin beneath her jaw, laving his tongue over the soft flesh and making her squirm beneath him. He grins against her neck, unable to help the surge of pride that comes with evoking those breathy noises from her throat, and that's when she surprises him, hooking her knee around one of his legs and flipping them over. He lands flat on his back and barely has time to gasp before her mouth is covering his, sucking his tongue past her lips and clenching her thighs around his ribs.

"I want to be on top," she growls, nipping at his bottom lip, and he can't help but moan, low and appreciative into her mouth, because Kate Beckett may actually be the hottest thing on this planet.

He trails his hands up her back, splaying his palms at her sides and allowing his fingertips to travel up the ladder of her gently curved vertebrae.

"You're stunning," he murmurs, can't help the way it spills from his mouth, but her lips quirk as she bows over him, taking his mouth once more.

The taut buds of her nipples whisper over his chest, the supple skin of her stomach brushes against his, so soft and long and lean, and his hips jerk, his body straining for hers.

"Eager, Castle?" she hums, nipping his bottom lip and rolling her hips against him, ruthless and wet, so wet, and – _fuck_, he is not going to survive this.

His fingers dig into the hollows beneath her hipbones, one of his thumbs over the elusive tattoo she spoke of, and her fingers trailed downwards, scorching his skin and making the muscles of his abdomen contract under her touch.

Her hand curls around his erection, the length of him throbbing in her palm, and he catches her smirking as she strokes him light and slow.

"_Kate_."

It's pathetic how close to begging he is, but the tease of her body, the heat of her hand – everything about her in bed with him is maddening. But then she's rising over him, straddling his hips, taking him inside inch by inch, bowing her head, trying to breath past the strangled cry that gets caught between her lips.

Oh, oh, she's – she's so tight, and wet, and searing, a sheath of velvet heat around him, and Castle clenches his hands around her thighs, exhales through the intense urge to thrust sharp and fast.

Her eyes flutter open a moment later, dark and hungry, and she rocks forward, bites down hard on her lower lip, blanching the skin, and he has to push himself up on one arm, tangles his hand in her hair, and rescues the abused flesh from the trap of her teeth. Her hips crash into his, one of her arms winding around his neck as her body finds rhythm with his.

"Shit, Castle, you feel so-" She gasps and crushes her chest to his, the arm around his neck like a vice, and he loses his balance, topples back down to the bed, taking her with him. The breath of her laughter turns to a moan as he digs his heels into the mattress for leverage, thrusts harder, feeling her pulse and narrow around him. "You feel so good," she gets out, her voice throaty and low as her hands find his in the bed sheets, pinning them above his head, twining their fingers and holding tight.

He stares up at her, watching the hypnotizing sway of her body as she rides him; her eyes are squeezed closed, her lips parted, allowing those little sounds of ecstasy to slip past. The rhythm of her hips is growing sloppy, frenzied, and he can feel the distinct tension at the base of his spine coiling tight and hot, and with his hands confined, he cranes his neck forward, captures her breast in his mouth, circles his tongue around her taut peak.

She groans and her nails stab his knuckles just before she releases one of his hands, curling her fingers at his neck and collapsing forward to kiss him.

"I love you," she gets out, and he kisses her back, hard and relentless. And then she grinds down on him, brutal and unforgiving, and the string of his arousal snaps, his body arches into hers, and they fall together.

* * *

For a moment, she can't fathom the idea of moving, of abandoning this warm haven of his body that she's draped over. His fingers are in her hair, combing, twining, tempting her to drift into sleep. But she doesn't want to leave this blissful little bubble they've created, doesn't want to sacrifice a single second of her time in it for slumber, so she lifts her head, rests her chin atop his solar plexus.

"Have I left you speechless?" he teases when she merely stares up at him, roaming the contours of his grinning face with her eyes. She's never considered a man beautiful, but Castle… he's quite gorgeous to her. "Kate?"

She cranes her neck forward to kiss him, dusting her lips over his before slipping her tongue inside, stroking the roof of his mouth, leisurely and languid. His arms coil around her, rolling her gently to her side as he kisses her back, melting her insides with the heat of his tongue.

"Mm, yeah. I definitely love you," she mumbles against his lips, smirking when he huffs. But it feels so nice, so freeing to finally say the words.

"I love you too, Kate," he murmurs, sliding a knee between hers, trailing suggestive fingers along the curve of her side. "You're….

"What?" she prompts with a grin, scratching low at his abdomen to encourage him, and maybe to feel that distinct ripple of muscles under her fingertips as well.

He huffs, but doesn't stop her fingers from traveling across his skin, her thumb circling over his hipbone.

"The last. For me. Have been for a while now."

She hums at that, knows it's a response to her earlier comment about him being the same for her. _The last_. The last person he'll fall in love with. So final, it should terrify her, but instead it fills her up, spills over like electrolytes in her bloodstream.

She eases onto her back, bringing him with her, and twines a leg at his thigh, curling her toes into the taut skin of his flank.

"Then take me."

He smirks, something wild sparking in his eyes telling her he intends to. Again and again, and she shivers in anticipation.

She's never loved anyone like this, not even close.


	23. Chapter 23

"This feels so wrong," she sighs, placing the picture of her mother atop the rest in the box that now holds the contents of her case.

When they finally left her bed, bodies groaning for food, and after he'd made a quick meal of pancakes for them to share, she had led him into her office. Being with Castle meant keeping him safe, meant removing the threat she always feared was on her life whether she gained leads to her mother's murder or not. There isn't a choice; she knows she's doing the right thing for him, for them, even for herself. She doesn't want this to define her anymore.

She returns her gaze to the empty panes of the window, the clean glass bare of its usual décor, and twists the edges of Castle's dress shirt between her fingers. "I don't know if I can do this."

Castle's arm comes around her waist and she allows him to cradle her body against his chest. She feels sick, naked without the murder board that once consumed her office windows. The words on her mother's tombstone flash behind her eyes. _Vincit Omnia Veritas_. Truth conquers all. Can she really let go of finding the truth, of letting a killer run free, of letting her mother down?

Kate turns her face into his neck, hides there until the panic swarming her chest recedes.

"Kate," Rick whispers against her temple, stroking his hand down her back. "You already did it. The hard part is over."

She shakes her head, blinking back the tears. "It's just beginning," she chokes, but he holds her tighter, and ducks his head, nudging his nose against her cheek. "I feel like I'm betraying her."

Her voice breaks before she can get the full sentence out and she's not sure if he understood a word she said, but his hands rise to her face, cupping her cheeks as he takes a small step backwards. The tears are clogging her throat, blurring her vision, but she still looks up at him, sees him staring down at her through the sea filling in her eyes.

"You told me she would want you to be happy, remember?" he whispers softly, stroking his thumbs across her cheeks, damming the streams of tears cascading down her skin. "I don't think happiness is seeing your mother's body strung up on a murder board." She flicks her eyes to his chin, cracking under the intensity of his gaze, the gentle understanding of his eyes. "It's not throwing your life away when she would want you to live it, to enjoy it."

"I miss her, Castle," she rasps. "And this case… it's defined me, driven me for so long, I don't know who I am without it." She takes a breath, trying to find the rest of her words before he can cut in with reassurances, but he seems to know she has more to say and only continues to watch her, wait for her. "But now, I want to be more."

"Kate." She lifts her eyes, finds the determination, the compassion, in his staring back at her. "You are more," he promises her, solemn and sure. "I know I can't fix what happened, can't fill that place in your heart where your mom will always be, but I'm – I'm here for you. You're not going to do this alone. I'll be right beside you, like… like your partner." He grins, tentative, shy, as if he's afraid he'll overstep, but his words, his promises, ease the stabbing pain in her heart.

"What if… what if her case comes up again though?" she finally asks. It's a question that's been hanging in the back of her mind, taunting her, replaying memories of how horribly obsessed she can become at even the faintest taste of a lead. Her mom's case being solved grows more unlikely with each passing day, she's known that, but she has to be prepared, has to be sure that no matter what, they can survive it.

"Then I'll stand with you. If you decide to pursue it or walk away, I'll be with you either way. And if you fall down too deep, I'll pull you back up. I'll make you choose me."

Her gaze snaps up to meet his, questioning, but the sharp blue of his eyes is more certain than she's ever seen them.

"You warned me about how you can become whenever her case comes up, when I offered to help, remember?" She nods, curious to see where exactly he's going with this. "If anything like that were ever to happen, I'd remind you why it's worth taking a step back, even walking away from. I'll remind you why your life is more important."

"And what if I push you away?" she challenges softly, another concern that's been dwelling in the caverns of her mind. "Not just because of her case. I love you, Castle, but I have the tendency to-"

"Seen that too, remember?" he says and she sighs, ducks her head a little. Yeah, she'd pushed him away before they'd even breached the line of friendship. "I don't expect easy, Kate. I don't want easy."

"Tell me what _you _want," she murmurs, tired of laying out her insecurities before him, ready to hear some of his own, but his face doesn't falter with the question, it lights up, as if she's just asked him about the most exciting thing in the world.

"I want to wake up with you in my bed every morning," he grins, wistful but eager, and she smirks as she arches an eyebrow at him, but then he continues. "I want to see you making plans with my daughter and discussing all of the ridiculous topics my mother will throw at you. I want to spend summers at the Hamptons with you, maybe marry you there one day." Her mouth goes dry. _Marry her? _"I want you to be a part of my family. I want to make you happy, be there when you're sad. I want all of it. I want a life with you." He shrugs, smiling down at her even though she's sure she looks horrified. But she's not, she's just… wow.

She swallows, but holds his eyes.

"You want a lot of things."

He chuckles as he nods and moves his hands to the rounded bones of her shoulders, squeezing gently.

"You want any of those things one day?"

The threat of slight panic, the whispering doubts saying she could never be enough for this man, fade away, slipping out of her like sand.

He's right, he can't fill all of her broken pieces with his love, but he can help her mend. He can give her reasons to heal.

"I do. I want all of them."

She thinks the way his face illuminates with happiness is one of the most beautiful sights she's ever seen. His eyes shine a radiant sapphire, his smile cracks his entire face open, causing his cheeks swell – she's never elicited a look of sheer joy like this from another person.

"So can I go get you a ring now or-"

"Castle," she chokes and his laugh rings out through her apartment as he tugs her against him, hugging her even as she smacks his chest. "You're not funny."

"The face of terror you made was funny."

"You know, pulling a face of terror as you talk about marriage would dishearten most men," she points out wryly, but he shakes his head before resting his chin atop hers.

"Not me. You'll be dying to marry me one day, Beckett."

She scoffs and pinches his backside, but she's grinning into his chest, because he may not be totally wrong.

"You want to finish?" he asks, dropping his arms from around her and turning towards the box filled with evidence on her desk.

Kate sighs, they're already done packing everything up. There's only one thing left to do and she places the cover on the box with a heavy heart.

"She would have loved you," she says, smiling softly but mournful as she imagines her mom meeting him, teasing her about him. He would have fit in so well with her family.

The thought strikes something in her.

He still can.

Kate turns away from the box.

"Rick?"

"Yeah?"

"My dad and I, we have Sunday brunches every other weekend. I know it may be a little early for this, but would you consider coming with me this time?"

His eyes widen, cerulean blue saucers that look stunned, but his lips split into a grin and he nods, eager and a little hesitant. "You want me to meet your dad?"

She shrugs. "I think he'd like you too." But the smile that teases her lips isn't sad this time.

"Then I'd be honored."

"Good," she murmurs, feeling her heart flutter with it. She hasn't introduced a man to her father in years and the thought of him meeting Josh, or Will, or any of the other men she's entered halfhearted relationships with over the years, would make her nauseous, but the thought of him meeting Castle… it makes her oddly excited. It's a step in the right direction, a positive step towards a future with him, and the images of a future with Rick Castle have her pushing up on her toes, rising to cup his face and kiss his lips.

"You up for a round two?" she mumbles, already fiddling with the buttons of his shirt on her body.

"Well, technically, it'd be round four…"

His hands push the shirt from her shoulders and she leads him back into her bed.


	24. Chapter 24

"Isn't the guy supposed to pick the girl up for a date?" Alexis asks, sitting cross-legged on his bed, watching in amusement as he tries to choose a tie.

He holds two up to her in the mirror, she shakes her head at both and points to the silky red one hanging on the door of his closet. His daughter's a genius.

"If you want to be traditional," he shrugs, fumbling with the strip of soft material around his neck until Alexis rises from the edge of his bed with a huff and swats his hands out of the way.

"Why are you so nervous?" Alexis chuckles, quirking an eyebrow at him in the mirror while she adjusts the tie properly and straightens it over the front of his purple button up. Kate had revealed the color was her favorite when they had played a round twenty questions the other night in bed. He represses the shiver of delight at the memory of the turn their game had taken.

"I'm not nervous," he argues, giving himself another once over in the full length mirror.

"Dad, you've changed your outfit three times already."

Okay, so maybe he's a little nervous, but Kate Beckett is finally allowing him to take her on a first date, a _real_ date, and he wants it to be perfect.

He sighs. "It's just - our first real date."

"I thought you'd gone out to dinner before," Alexis says, following him as he drifts back towards his bathroom. "And since you've been staying over at her place for the last three nights, aren't you guys kind of past the first date stage?"

"Alexis," he sputters, meeting her eyes in the mirror, but she's smirking at him, laughing quietly at the horrified look on his face. But she's – she's his baby bird, she's not supposed to _know_ what he's doing when he stays over at Kate's. "That's not the point," he huffs, running his fingers through his hair, making sure the gel's all smoothed through and keeping the neat style in place. "Every time we've gone out before, she was with someone. Now, there's no one else but us."

He smiles softly to himself in the mirror at that. He never really felt like he was sharing her, per se, but before she had ended things with Josh, he had always believed he only had pieces of her. But after that day in the Hamptons, she gave him everything.

"Ah, young love," Alexis teases, grinning at him in the mirror.

The door buzzes before he can reply and he jerks, knocking over a comb.

"I'll get it," his daughter chirps, skipping out of the room, and he decides to let her, give her a moment to greet Kate without him present.

"Oh, Kate, darling, you beautiful creature!" He hears his mother exclaiming as he walks through his bedroom.

Excitement flares in his blood and he quickens his pace. He's just coming out of the office while his daughter is stepping back from a hug with his girlfriend and his happiness flares brighter.

"You really do look lovely, Kate." Alexis moves to stand next to his mother and finally he sees what the two women of his household are talking about.

"Wow," he murmurs, gaining the attention of all three females.

Kate smiles, soft and demure when she catches him scanning her from head to toe.

"Hey, Castle."

The dress she's wearing isn't extravagant, they're only going to dinner at a place of her choosing, but the cling of the deep red fabric accentuates her every curve, puts the elegant line of her collarbones on perfect display, and brings out the sparkling green of her eyes, the flecks of gold.

"You look - you're stunning."

Her eyes flash and she glances down to the nude pumps elevating her high enough to level his gaze with her own as he comes closer.

"Not so bad yourself, Castle," she murmurs, reaching out to smooth her hand down his tie.

Alexis winks at him and he grins, stealing Kate's fingers from his chest.

"Well, you two have fun on your date," Martha singsongs, dragging Alexis with her up the stairs. "We wont wait up."

Kate chuckles as she watches the two redheads disappear over his shoulder before finally looking up and using the fingers around his tie to tug him closer.

"Hey," she says softly, flicking her eyes to his lips before planting a gentle kiss to his mouth.

"Evening, Detective," he smirks, skimming a hand over the curls of her hair. "Are you going to tell me where we're going yet?"

Her eyebrow quirks as she opens the front door without turning around and tangles a hand with his, leading him out into the hallway. "I thought you liked surprises, Castle."

"Yes, but I prefer to be the one doing the surprising," he informs her while she leads him down the hallway, but she only glances over her shoulder with amusement swirling through her features.

Kate drags him into the elevator, holds to the lapels of his blazer as the doors slide shut and leans back into the polished wood paneling. The smile teasing at her lips is seductive, a smile that tempts him to take her back to the loft, finally have her in his bed. Or maybe even stop the elevator.

"Think you can relinquish control for the night, Rick?" Her tongue curls around his name, crackling over the 'k' before it darts out to sweep over her bottom lip. Relinquish control? What control? She can't expect him to have even a semblance of control when she's doing things like this. "I'll take that as a yes," she chuckles, all dark and throaty while she saunters out of the elevator he doesn't realize has stopped and he stumbles to follow her through his building's lobby and out into the cooling night.

* * *

Kate likes to fluster him, loves the way his eyes grow wide and his adam's apple bobs while his cheeks turn a barely noticeable shade of pink. She had considered simply walking with him to their first destination, it isn't far from his loft, but Castle currently looks as though he's about to trip over his own feet when they step onto the sidewalk, so she hails a cab to give him the time to regain his composure.

"Can I have a hint?" he asks after sitting in the cab with her for only a handful of minutes.

"No, Castle."

"Kate," he whines beside her, slipping his hand over her bare knee, tracing his thumb in circles over her patella. "Please?"

She plucks his hand from her leg and traps it between both of hers.

"No need, we're already here."

His eyes shoot up and he jerks forward, trying to glance around her to see outside the window.

The cab stops in front of the familiar brick restaurant with soft amber lighting glowing from the glass windows onto the streets and she watches with delight as Castle's eyes widen in immediate recognition as she pays the driver before he can protest and pulls him out of the vehicle.

"You chose… this is where we had our first non-date," he whispers, roving his eyes over the establishment as if he's never seen it before.

Kate tugs on their linked hands, trying to get him off of the sidewalk and into the restaurant, but just before she can reach for the door handle, he spins her around, cradles her face and kisses her hard.

He releases her before she can reciprocate, before she can wind her arms around him and give back wholeheartedly with her lips and tongue.

"What was that for?" she breathes.

He shrugs and slides his hands down to her shoulders. "I just love you."

She grins, realizing they probably need to move, they're blocking the entrance to the restaurant, not to mention they surely look 'sickeningly sweet', as Esposito would say, lovers lost in one another. _Lovers_, her heart flutters and her mind embraces the title and she tugs him inside before they lose their reservation.

Kate booked them a table near the back of the room, tucked away in the corner and illuminated with candlelight she had to specifically request. She's never tried this hard for a date, never made special requests and reservations, but she knows Castle and she knew how much this would mean to him. By the delighted gleam in his eyes, she thinks she's done good.

"This is perfect," he murmurs, holding out her chair for her and pressing a kiss to her temple before he takes his seat across from her.

"Yeah?" she smiles, trying not to sound too excited by his approval. They've been on plenty of dates before, granted they were platonic, but sharing a meal with him is nothing new. No need to act like a giddy little girl on her first date.

He nods his eager agreement before the waitress comes to take their orders.

"The next portion of the date is a little less familiar," she warns after their server delivers the bottle of red he asked for.

"Oh, there's a part two to this date?" he asks, pouring her a glass while he quirks an eyebrow. "Beckett, you treat me so well."

"If you can handle it, there's even a part three," she adds, taking a sip of the wine and humming at the contrasting flavors of sweet bitterness.

"Planning on keeping me out late this evening, are you?"

"Oh no, Castle. Part three will take place once we're back in."

His eyes turn indigo over the rim of his wineglass. "Keep teasing me and we're not even going to finish stage one."

Heat pools in her stomach and she reflexively presses her thighs together. It's nothing new with them, the electric flow of arousal, but ever since they finally spent some long anticipated time in her bed, it's as if the need for him has intensified.

She exchanges her wine for the glass of ice water, evoking a smirk of satisfaction from him, but she only shrugs. She's been looking forward to this night all week; they are not going home early.

* * *

The summer is coming to an end, the crisp, welcoming air of fall creeping into the night as they walk down the sidewalks together. Castle swings their linked hands between them, drawing her against his side every few minutes to make room for passerby. The sway of her body into his, the rhythm of their hands, the way he's humming happily to himself - she almost comments on the similarities to the activity she's leading him to partake in, but she doesn't want to ruin the surprise.

She brings them to a halt outside of sleek looking bar. He doesn't say anything, but she knows he's intrigued, can feel the curiosity radiating from his body in growing waves.

Kate guides him inside the jazz club, watching him take in the low lighting while she checks them in, watching the golden glow from dim lamps and flickering candles on the few tables lining the walls illuminate his eyes.

"Dance with me?"

He glances down to her, that same amazed expression on his face that he'd worn when the cab had stopped in front of their favorite restaurant. She hopes he never stops looking at her like that, never grows bored of her. But as he takes her hand, escorts her to the dance floor and winds his arms around her, holding her body snugly against his as they sway to the croon of the saxophone and accompanying trumpet, the idea of them ever being boring is unfathomable.

* * *

She's so glad it's past midnight and the loft is dark when they stumble through his front door together. Castle has her pressed up against the metal frame, his hand up her skirt, spread over the skin of her thigh that's curled around his hip, inching higher and higher until he groans into her mouth as he encounters the lacey red lingerie that matches her dress.

"Can I stay over?" she gasps, rocking her hips into the cradle of his, but Castle pulls back, stares down at her through the heavy breathing and the familiar shade of lust clouding his eyes.

"You have to ask?"

She shrugs, nervous all of the sudden, which is stupid, because it's just Castle and he's stayed at her place for the past three nights in a row, but it feels… different staying at the loft, knowing his family is asleep on the floor above. Asking permission had just seemed like a good idea, but he looks puzzled by it.

"I just - wanted to make sure it was okay," she mumbles, diverting her eyes to the loosened tie around his neck and the three buttons undone at his chest.

"Kate." She's barely lifted her gaze when his lips are on hers again, still desperate, still yearning to kiss her in other places, but softer, reassuring. "I want you here. We all want you here."

She's only been in his loft a handful of times, but the place, the people inside it, already feels like home.

"Then take me to bed," she murmurs, using the advantage of her heels to claim his mouth once again and squeaking against the grin of his lips when his arms swoop underneath her knees, carrying her into the office, past the walls of bookshelves and into his bedroom.


	25. Chapter 25

Kate wakes before Castle the next morning. The sunlight is streaming through the opened windows behind the bed, warming her skin and coaxing her into awareness. It's later than she would normally rise and she stretches her limbs over the sinfully soft Egyptian cotton sheets, pressing her back into the broad chest behind her as she blinks through the grit of sleep still lingering in the corners of her eyes.

Mm, she had slept _so_ good.

As soon as she had clocked out of work yesterday at five, she had gone straight to her apartment and prepared for their date. She had been too excited to feel the exhaustion creeping into her bones until after Castle had turned her body into a puddle of loose limbs and sated skin in his bed hours later.

She sighs, in no hurry to get up, and turns onto her stomach, nuzzling the pillow beneath her cheek that smells so strongly of him and allowing her eyes to roam the room she hadn't been able to study in the dark last night.

Much like the first time she had come to his loft, she had been expecting something more befitting of a bachelor, but his bedroom doesn't feel like one of a playboy. It's masculine, but warm, colored with earth tones and bathed in soft light. Pictures of his mother and daughter decorate the nightstands and canvas paintings of wild animals, a burly elephant and a disconcerting lion that stares her down, cover the walls. It's tasteful, a place she could see herself existing in for a long while.

She huffs at herself, already thinking too far ahead, and let's her eyes flutter closed as she soaks in the late morning bliss, the moment too peaceful to pass up.

She loves her job, usually doesn't mind the early morning wakeup calls that never fail, but she wouldn't mind the luxury of waking up like this everyday either.

Her eyes slit open a few seconds later, the fleeting press of lips to her bare shoulder eliciting butterflies low in her stomach. He still gives her butterflies, it's ridiculous.

"Why are you awake?" he murmurs, gruff and raspy with sleep, and her body tingles with a slow wave of spreading arousal. She wonders if that will ever wear off, that flame that's always burning in the pit of her abdomen for him, the one she's never been able to extinguish.

She hopes not.

"Because it's almost nine a.m.," she answers, lifting to her elbows to see him watching her, still half asleep with one side of his face buried in the pillow.

"Don't look at me like that," he groans, turning the rest of his face into the sunset orange cover. "Too sleepy to ravage you."

She laughs, but still leans forward, touching her lips to the arm curled beneath his pillow, painting open mouthed kisses to his bicep, his shoulder, the slope of muscle that connects to his neck.

His eyes flash open narrowing on her. "Can't turn down a challenge can you?"

"C'mon, Castle," she purrs, coiling a leg over his thigh, already knowing she's won. "Sleepy morning sex sounds really good right about now."

He huffs a laugh, but his eyes are dark, all traces of slumber gone as he pulls her closer, sealing her body flush against his, tasting like sleep and sunlight as he rolls her over, pins her to the mattress, and kisses her.

* * *

"Morning, Kate."

Beckett glances up from attempting to figure out his complicated coffee machine when Alexis comes down the stairs. She tampers down the self-consciousness that bubbles in her stomach at the knowledge that his daughter is seeing her draped in one of Rick's t-shirts, his boxers, even his robe. She had considered bringing an overnight bag when she had come to pick him up for the date, but she hadn't wanted to seem too presumptuous. She curses herself for rejecting the good idea now as she smoothes a hand through her tousled hair and tries not to look as though she spent the previous night and recent hours of the morning rolling around in bed with the girl's father.

"Morning, coffee?"

Alexis wrinkles her nose, climbing onto one of the barstools, looking not the least bit perturbed at the sight of her father's girlfriend taking liberties in their kitchen.

"I'm honestly not a big fan. Do you… need help?"

Kate glances back to the empty cup on the tray and gives in, nodding. "Please."

Alexis smiles and hops off the stool, coming to stand beside Kate and talking through the directions of how to make a latte.

"Thought you didn't like coffee," Kate grins as the rich brown liquid streams from the spout and fills the pretty blue mug she had found in the cabinet above.

"Sometimes when Dad gets in a writing haze, he pulls all nighters," Castle's daughter explains, reaching for a bottle of vanilla flavoring, giving Kate the requested two pumps before mixing the sweet syrup and caffeine with a spoon. "I sort of got into the habit of making him a cup before school if he's glued to his laptop. It usually helps remind him to grab some breakfast."

Alexis cuts a glance at her, as if to make sure she's listening, as if… oh, she wants Kate to know since she's - is this Alexis accepting her?

"Sounds like when I'm working a case sometimes," Kate murmurs, hoping it's the right thing to say, hoping that one day she can talk to Alexis without fear of the wrong thing coming out of her mouth.

"You'll have to look out for each other then, or you'll both starve to death," Alexis scolds, but there's a tease in her voice as she hands Kate the coffee and Beckett takes it with a grateful smile.

"I'm sure we can work out a system."

Alexis smiles back, a real smile that has the apples of her cheeks reaching her eyes. "Good."

"Ladies," Castle's voice breaks through the tentative exchange between the two women and Kate feels her heart quicken at the happiness shimmering in his eyes. Because this is one of those things he wanted, her a part of his family, and it's happening.

He pecks the crown of Alexis' head and then slips an arm at Kate's waist, dropping a kiss to the slash of her cheekbone. "Ooh, coffee."

Kate holds the cup away when he tries to steal a sip, cradling it to her chest protectively.

"Get your own."

"Greedy. See if I share my amazing breakfast tacos with you," he grumbles, abandoning her for the fridge and returning to the counter she's propped against with an armful of ingredients.

"Call me when breakfast is ready, I'm going to work on my summer reading list."

"Sure thing, sweetie." Castle watches his daughter ascend the stairs, shaking his head. "I've never met another human being so eager to conquer a summer reading list."

Kate chuckles around the rim of her mug.

"So any special ingredients you'd like in your breakfast?"

"Oh, Castle, I actually should go-"

His face falls.

"You're not staying?"

"I'd like to," she murmurs, placing her empty cup in the sink. "But I need to change into some actual clothes."

"But you look so good in mine," he sighs, hooking his thumb in the waistband of the boxers around her hips and reeling her in.

"I was thinking," she starts, noting the way his eyes flare with interest. "I can swing by my place and grab some clothes and then I could just come back, stay here."

"As in, sleep over again?" he grins, already vibrating with the excitement, and she laughs quietly as she sweeps her thumb over the eager curve of his lips.

"If that's okay with you," she teases, already knowing the answer.

"Duh, Beckett," he mumbles, leaning down to smack a kiss to her lips. "Now hurry up and leave. Maybe you can be back before breakfast gets cold."

* * *

Beckett knocks on his door again only an hour after she had left that morning. He saved her a plate of breakfast, kept it warm in the oven for her, and she smiles in appreciation as she drops the black duffel by the coat closet and slips her ballet flats off next to it.

Kate Beckett packing a bag to stay over at his place turns him into a giddy little boy and he practically skips beside her into the kitchen, gazes at her and the tight fit of her skinny jeans, the loose drape of her shirt, teasing kisses over that hint of bare skin peeking out at the shoulder while she eats until she smacks him on the arm.

She's almost done with the bacon and egg taco he prepared for her when his phone rings. He groans at Paula's name flashing across the caller ID and steps away from the barstool Kate's perched upon.

"Just a second, it's my agent," he sighs and Kate nods her understanding around a gulp of coffee. "Good morning, Paula," he greets, hoping he doesn't sound as unenthusiastic to hear from her as he really is. He loves Paula, he really does, and he appreciates her too, but she has the tendency to drive him a little crazy at times.

"I'd take the 'good' out of that statement if I were you, Ricky," she snaps and he can hear the loud clack of her heels in the distance, as if she's pacing.

Castle swallows, already feeling his nerves threaten to rise. "Oh?"

"You obviously haven't been on the internet today. There's a photo of you with your new girlfriend all over the place."

He freezes. "_What_?"

"A photographer took a picture of you smooching some chick on the sidewalk!" she exclaims, the shrill ring of her voice making him wince.

Oh no. No, no, no, Kate was going to _kill _him.

"You have to take it down," he hisses, disappearing into his office before Kate can catch on to his panic.

"You think I've got superpowers or something?"

Rick rubs at his eyes and drops his forehead to the frame of the door.

"Paula, she can't - have they identified the woman I was with?"

"Nope," she says, popping the 'p'. "Luckily, the streetlamps didn't offer very good lighting. They can barely identify you, but the problem here is that you look very much taken, dressed up and making out with some hussy on a sidewalk."

"She's not a hussy," he growls, sharper than he intended, and he takes a deep breath. They don't know who she is, it's fine. For now. "How long has it been online?"

He hears the distinct sound of Paula's manicured nails on a keyboard before she answers. "About an hour."

"Contact the original source, pay them off, do whatever you have to, just – please, get it taken down."

"You do know your crazy fans have already spread it all over social media, right?"

Castle closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, but the frenzy on the social media sites will die down with time, and if he can have it removed from whatever website originally posted it, people might even question the authenticity of the photo. Either way, he wants it gone.

"Can you do it?"

Paula lets out a long, exaggerated sigh. "This girl must be really special if you're going to all this trouble."

"Is that a yes?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll have it down within the next fifteen minutes."

He breathes in relief. "This is why I love you."

She scoffs. "You better."

The line disconnects and Castle reluctantly lifts his head, sees Kate still sitting in his kitchen, watching him in concern. She's so going to kill him.

"What's the matter?" she asks when he decides to bite the bullet and approach her.

"Last night," he starts, propping his elbows on the marble countertop beside her. "Paparazzi for an online gossip site apparently caught a photo of us."

Her eyes widen, the lovely blush of her cheeks going pale, looking so utterly horrified.

"They can't tell it's you," he cuts in quickly. "They can barely see me, according to Paula, but-"

"Let me see it," she murmurs, holding her hand out for the phone, keeping her eyes downcast.

"Kate - I have - Paula's taking it down."

"Then show it to me before it's gone."

He sighs and unlocks his iPhone, googles his name, and sure enough, the most recent result is a link to a low budget, celebrity news site. He stabs the link with his thumb and waits for the picture to load. Paula was right, it isn't a great shot - blurred, grainy, and dark – but it's definitely a picture of him and Kate from the night before, after they had stepped out of a cab and he had kissed her in front of the restaurant. Stupid, he's so stupid.

The blurb of information below is brief, just a snippet about how the author may be off the market once again, but it's the title that horrifies him because he knows she won't like it, not at all.

_Richard Castle's Latest Mystery Conquest?_

"Castle."

He hands her the phone and watches her face as her eyes scan over the screen, but her expression remains indifferent, giving not a hint of her reaction away. It's hardly been a minute when she places the phone back on the counter and brings a hand to her lips, her knuckles pressed to her mouth as her brow furrows.

"Conquest," she murmurs with nothing more than an eye roll, eerily calm, and somehow that makes it worse. He'd much rather prefer some yelling or freaking out, _something._ This contemplative silence feels more like acceptance and he can't allow her to accept a headline like that.

"You're not," he insists. "You know you're not. Not to me. If anyone's a conquest here, I'd be one of yours, Kate, I-"

"Castle," she huffs, trapping his fumbling lips behind her hand. "I know. You've made sure that I've known that for so long now."

He curls his fingers around her wrist, gently tugs her hand from his lips. "You're not mad?"

Her mouth quirks with the hints of a smile. "I'm not thrilled to be featured in an article like that and I think that from now on, maybe we should be a little more careful in public, but you were right, you can't tell it's us." She shrugs and shakes her wrist from his grasp, allows her hand to venture up to his hair, fingers combing through the strands. "You honestly look more upset than me."

"I - I thought you would be angry," he stammers. "I thought you'd want to leave."

Her fingers pause and fall from his hair.

"Leave you over a cheap online article?"

He hesitates.

"Castle," she sighs, drawing him into the v of her legs and wrapping her arms loose at his neck. "I don't care if we were featured on Page Six, that's not going to scare me off. You know I love you too much for that… right?"

His mouth opens, but nothing comes out. He hadn't expected to be the one needing reassurances in this moment.

"Do you doubt that?" she asks, a tinge of hurt coloring her eyes, turning her lips into a frown.

"No," he responds, quick this time, and circles his arms around her waist. "No, I don't. It's just… I know this is still relatively new, probably way too soon for me to be saying things like this." Her eyebrows arch, encouraging him to continue. "You're just really important to me. You're so important, Kate, it scares me sometimes. And I don't want to mess this up."

Her arms tighten at his neck, pulling him closer and into a firm but warm embrace that eases the anxious pound of his heart. "We're both going to mess up," she murmurs against his cheek. "That's part of being in a relationship. But it will take so much more for you to get rid of me, Rick. I want this, I want you, and I'm not just going to give up the second things get tough."

His eyes flutter closed and he inhales the sweet scent of her, feeling the tension drain from his muscles and relax against her. He's never doubted that she loves him, especially since she told him mere days ago, but he doubts himself at times, doubts his worth and the idea that someone would stick around for the simple prospect of being with him.

She knows about his childhood, about long months at boarding schools and endless nights of homesickness, knows that he has a deep-seated fear of abandonment, especially after all of his failed relationships of the past. Kate Beckett knows about things he's buried deep inside and never planned to share with anyone else, but when she's so open with him, so willing to allow him into her heart, he finds his secrets, old wounds of his own heart that he thought had scarred over long ago, spilling out.

They both have insecurities, issues that will impact their relationship at times, but she makes him believe they're strong enough to pull through them without falling apart.

"You make it very hard to live up to my rugged status when you're always getting me choked up, Beckett," he mutters, eliciting a laugh from her lips and tug his own into a smile as he hugs her tighter.

Kate sits up, slipping her arms from his neck until only her hands remain curled around his nape, toying with the soft hairs at the base of his skull.

"So are we okay?" she asks and he nods, leaning in to taste her lips. She hums, twining her fingers around his ears to keep him close. "And that article is coming down?"

His phone vibrates on the counter before he can answer, a message from Paula.

"Already down."

"Good. Now, you promised me a game of laser tag before I left earlier, so you go get the gear while I get Alexis."

She drops one last kiss to his lips and hops down from the stool, heading straight for the stairs, and he thinks his belief in them is stronger than it's ever been.


	26. Chapter 26

Castle hates Black Pawn meetings, hates sitting bored while Gina, Paula, and a group of nameless faces that work for the company discuss strategy and sales marketing. He had almost been able to get out of this one, but after the huge favor Paula had pulled for him last week, his agent had teamed up against him with Gina and demanded he show.

He knows they all have high hopes for Nikki Heat, he knows he should pay attention to their talk about how many books there should be and the comparison this series could have to Derrick Storm, but he's hardly even thought about the answers to those questions himself yet.

He's just glad he's finally free after three long, torturous hours. He spent the majority of the meeting texting Kate, going back and forth over case details – he really wishes he could see the murder board revolving around the dead inmate found at Sing Sing, but she still adamantly refuses him pictures – and attempting to coax her into participating in some sexting.

He was refused those types of pictures too.

He pulls out his phone once more as he enters the parking garage, intending to call her, ask her where they would end up tonight, his place or hers, but just as his thumb hovers over her contact information, bright headlights flash in front of him.

Blinded, Rick stumbles back, deeper into the shadows.

"Hello, Mr. Castle."

The figure that appears beside him has him jerking back, nearly tumbling to the ground.

"We need to talk."

"How do you-"

"The less questions you ask," the older man states, strolling through the dim lighting along the wall. "The better."

Castle bites his tongue against the remark bubbling there and nods his agreement.

"Your presence is needed in the Twelfth Precinct, Mr. Castle," the man announces and Rick feels his body tense with dread. If he's talking about the Twelfth Precinct, there's likely to be a connection to Beckett. He doesn't like shadowy figures in parking garages having a connection to Kate. Not at all. "I've been informed by Roy Montgomery that someone needs to keep Detective Beckett from looking into things she shouldn't, to keep her out of harm's way."

"Are you referring to her mother's murder?" The man only shrugs his shoulders. "Because she's not looking into it anymore. She put it away."

"Then you're already doing a good job," he praises, but his voice remains low, dark and smooth. "Think of your place in the Twelfth as insurance."

Castle shakes his head, already knowing for a fact that Kate will never agree to this. He doesn't even have a viable excuse as to why he would need to shadow her, not when she already gives him all the information he needs.

At Castle's hesitation, the mystery figure speaks again. "You care about Detective Beckett?"

His jaw squares at the question, the bribe.

"Then you will take into consideration that there are times when a well-placed pawn is more powerful than a king. Be a good pawn, Mr. Castle." Rick growls at the riddle, frustration simmering beneath his skin, but then the man says something that makes his heart stop in his chest. "Beckett's life may depend on it."

"Her mother's murder," Castle chokes out before the man can disappear into the shadows for good. "That's what this is about, isn't it? I told you, she gave it up. She isn't looking into it anymore, so there's no reason for anyone to-"

"See if you can say the same in 24 hours." And then the man is gone, vanished like a magician into thin air with the help of the darkness and a passing car.

What the hell is going to happen in 24 hours?

* * *

"Hey Dad," Alexis greets from the kitchen counter, a spread of papers consuming the marble surface.

"Hey sweetie, is Kate here?"

He had called her, multiple times, and after receiving no answer, he had gone to her apartment, but she wasn't there either. He's starting to panic.

"Yeah, she's in your office going over a case file, but she's going to help me with my college applications once she's done. She really thinks I have a great shot at getting into Stanford," Alexis beams, and Castle isn't sure if stomach churns over his daughter potentially moving across the country or the fact that Kate's life could be in danger.

"I'm so sorry, Alexis, but is it okay if we postpone that for just a little while?" Kate's voice rings out from the entryway of his office as she comes striding through his living room. "My captain needs me to meet him, sounds pretty urgent, but I could probably be back by tonight."

"Sure," Alexis chirps. "I can do most of it myself anyway and then you can just look over it for me."

"Perfect," Kate grins, squeezing his daughter's shoulder as she glides by, coming straight for him with her lips stretching even wider. His heart is in a fist, seeing her so at ease in his home, with his family, and he's about to risk turning her world upside down.

"Hey," she murmurs, cupping his face in her palms and planting a quick kiss to his lips. "Did your meeting go okay?"

She's drifting past him, stepping into her heels, shrugging on her blazer, and he realizes that she's leaving right now, but she _can't. _He doesn't know what's lurking out there, what could happen to her on her way to meet Montgomery.

He clutches at her biceps, startling her and causing her to wobble in her pumps.

"You okay?" she asks, her voice pitched low to hide from Alexis, but he shakes his head.

"I have to talk to you, I need-"

"Castle, I promise I'll be back in just a couple of hours."

"You don't know that," he croaks and her brow creases in concern.

"Rick," she says slowly, placing her palms on his chest, holding to the lapels of his blazer. "Montgomery just wants to fill me in on some developments that occurred with my mom's case, but I swear that's all. I'm not going to touch it."

"Kate, that's not what I'm-"

"When I get back, we'll do dinner, okay? All three of us." She tugs him forward by her grip on his jacket and drops another kiss to his mouth. "I love you."

She pats his chest as she pulls away and hurries towards the front door.

"I love you too," he tells her just before she can step past the threshold.

She smiles softly in return, calls an added goodbye to Alexis, and then she's gone.

"Dad, what's the matter?" Alexis asks once Kate's been gone for an entire minute and he's still left standing still, watching the door she just walked through, willing it to open again and reveal her on the other side.

He sighs, ready to turn and tell his daughter everything because he needs to tell _someone._ But just as he opens his mouth to speak, his phone vibrates in his pocket and he growls, looking up to Alexis in apology. He recognizes the number, but he doesn't understand why someone from the precinct would be calling him.

Unless Kate's already in trouble.

"Castle," he answers, attempting to brace himself for the blow.

"Castle, it's Roy Montgomery." He wants to sigh in relief, but there's something to her captain's voice, a taut string of worry holding the man's words together. He doesn't know Roy well, but he knows the sound of fear. "I need you to meet me."

His heart takes up a steady pounding, not liking the grim direction his imagination is already heading.

"Why?"

"Because you're the only one who can save her. The only one who can make her stand down."

* * *

Castle makes it to the address Montgomery gave him in a little less than an hour, just in time to see the confrontation between Kate and her captain taking place beneath the blue glow of the airplane hangar.

"Did you kill my mother?" The question sends a chill down his spine, brings him to an abrupt halt, and he fruitlessly prays the answer is no, prays that not another person in her life will wound her beyond repair.

"No, but she died because of what we did that night," Montgomery replies and though he does feel brief relief, the dread overpowers it within a second as her captain continues, spilling a story he never wanted to hear. She begs for a name, receiving only denial, and deep down he's grateful for that, grateful that Roy knows better than to relinquish information that could get her killed, but the words he finishes with, when Kate accuses him of bringing her there to kill her, make Rick's blood run cold. "I brought you here to _lure _them."

Her voice cracks. "You baited them?"

"And now they're coming."

The three of them glance in unison towards the shine of headlights and Castle feels sick at the realization. Roy Montgomery is making his stand by sacrificing himself for her.

"I need you to leave," he demands. "They're coming to kill you and I'm not gonna let them. I'm going to end this."

"I'm not going anywhere, Sir," she argues, fierce with it, determined to fight till the end and die for her cause. Castle's already stepping out of the shadows, unwilling to let her, when Montgomery calls for him.

"Castle, get her out of here. _Now_."

Kate glances over her shoulder, gritting her teeth at the sight of him before turning back to her captain. He wants to argue, wants to believe there's a better way, but Montgomery is already shaking his head against it before Rick can open his mouth, and he reaches for Kate even as she knocks his hand away.

"Captain, please," she lurches forward. "Just listen to me, you don't have to do this."

"Kate," he tries, catching her by the arm, but she brushes him off.

"No, please, Sir," she begs, tears already clogging her throat. "I forgive you," he listens to her promise, feeling his heart crack for her, for Montgomery, for the mess the man fell into so long ago that's now cost him his life and Kate another piece of herself. "I _forgive_ you."

"This is my spot, Kate," her captain tells her and the look on his face ensures Castle that there's no reasoning with him, he isn't coming with them, and if he wasn't there to physically take her away, Kate wouldn't be leaving either. "This is where I stand."

And then Montgomery is shouting at them, commanding them to leave as the glow of headlights burns brighter, and Castle has to physically haul her away, lifting her in his arms, holding her through the kick of her legs and the flail of her arms, holding her as her cries echo through the hangar.

"Rick," she sobs once he's finally got them out the door, into the bitter night air. "Please."

He doesn't let her go, knowing the second he did she would turn right around, run to her death and he can't, he _won't_, allow that. He doesn't let her go until they've made it across the parking lot to her cruiser, parked right next to Roy's. He props her shuddering body against the vehicle, keeps her upright with an arm around her waist and a hand over her mouth.

"Kate, you have to be quiet," he whispers, feeling her knees give out as the gunfire rings and ripples through the air. Her body jerks once, a last attempt to fight him off and return to the hangar, but the beat of her fists against his chest is weak and she crumples against the car, sagging in his arms. They slide to the cement ground together, her body broken in his lap, and he strokes her hair, whispers apologies in her ear over and over.

"Shh, love, shh," he pleads, his hand still over her mouth, catching the heat of her choked sobs in his palm, the stream of her tears drenching his fingers. "I'm sorry, so sorry, Kate-"

He cradles her to his chest as he rocks her, back and forth to the twisted lullaby of gunshots that seem to last an eternity until one final, decisive blast fills the air. She looks up at him, dark eyes consumed with fear and horror and pain, so much pain, and he finally releases her.

She races to the hangar and though he feels like his bones have turned to lead, he forces himself to follow, finds her crouched over Montgomery's body when he reaches her. He drops to his knees beside her, his own heart sinking with disbelief at seeing her mentor lifeless and laid out on the cold ground, and places a tentative hand to Kate's curled spine.

She lifts her head to him with red-rimmed eyes, but doesn't push him away, doesn't try to make him go like a large part of him expects her to. She turns into his side, allowing him to wrap her in his arms, hide her from the slew of bodies surrounding them. The sobs rip through her once more, the tears stain his shirt, but he doesn't let her go.

* * *

He persuades her to return to the loft for the night, too paranoid to allow her back at her place, convinced they're coming for her next despite Montgomery's murder. They meet Esposito and Ryan at his front door. It's late, Alexis is asleep thanks to his mother who knows only that something terrible has happened and has conveniently made herself scarce for the evening.

They convene in his living room, solemn and not speaking for a while, but Kate called the boys from the car, filled them in with a steady voice that didn't crack until she hung up. They know everything.

"No one," Beckett murmurs, so strong despite the waterlogged husk in her voice and the wet stain to her lashes. "No one outside of this immediate family ever needs to know about this."

Esposito's eyes flicker to Castle, accusatory, finding a reason to release his pain through anger, but Kate's hand on Castle's knee, the glare she levels at the fellow detective, has him simmering down, even sparing Rick a brief, apologetic glance. Ryan remains motionless in the armchair, the ice blue of his eyes blurred with tears that he continuously has to blink away.

"As far as the world is concerned," she forges on, her voice so empty, void of all emotion, leaving it behind in the hangar. "Roy Montgomery died a hero. We owe it to him."

The three men nod in agreement and there's nothing left to say.

* * *

The boys leave half an hour later and Kate heads straight to his bedroom, stripping her clothes off and crawling under the covers on her side. She holds the blankets up once she's tucked in, waiting for him.

"I thought you'd want to be alone," he says quietly, shedding his own clothes and slipping in next to her.

Kate shakes her head and curls around him, tangling limbs and sharing a pillow. "Not anymore."

It doesn't come easy, but eventually, Kate's eyes drift closed and sleep takes her from the dark reality they're currently living in.

He isn't so lucky.

The talk with Smith, the death of Montgomery, the dangers that threaten to take Kate's life crashing over him in waves, making him nauseous. He eventually has to get up, gently untangle himself from her, and lock himself in his office. The pacing doesn't help, but he has to do something, has to put the nervous energy to good use. But when his eyes land on the remote control to his smart-board, he pauses.

He normally uses the large touchscreen for fake murder boards, for outlines that keep his plots and character notes neatly arranged, but as he grabs the remote, brings the screen to life, fiction is not what he has in mind.


	27. Chapter 27

They return from Montgomery's funeral in silence. She knows Castle is bubbling with concern for her, his gaze never lifting from her throughout the entire drive home and now trailing her as they unlock the loft and step inside together.

She had held his eyes throughout the eulogy, afraid to allow herself the sight of her fellow officers in the front row, afraid to see Evelyn and the Montgomery's children and the tears slicking their cheeks, afraid to look anywhere else but the safe haven of his eyes.

_And if you're very lucky, you find someone willing to stand with you._

She had offered him the smallest of smiles while she had said those words, words her captain had given her weeks ago when she was still struggling with letting her mother's case go, and she hopes he knew they were for him, that she wanted him to be the person at her side, the person she stood with through it all. From the gentle curve of his lips he had given her in return, she's confident he understands and that he returns the sentiment.

"Do you mind if I stay here tonight?" she asks, turning to find him still in the doorway, waiting on her.

His eyes widen and she wishes she had the energy to smile at the way his head bobs a little too quickly in agreement. "Of course not. I was hoping - I'd wanted you to stay."

She may be too drained for a smile, too numbed over the death of her mentor to reassure him that she will eventually be okay, but she can say a lot with actions.

Kate dislodges her cap from the top of her head, setting the piece of her uniform on the end table and allowing the carefully crafted bun at the back of her neck to unravel. His fingers card through the wild strands of hair, sending a few bobby pins flying to the ground, but his palm cradling her skull, scratching lightly at her scalp, is soothing, and she hums as she reaches for him.

The way he envelopes her so easily, fitting her to the warm, solid wall of his chest and wrapping her in the comforting scent of his cologne makes her lip quiver. She can't remember the last time someone held her as she cried. Even after her mother died, she mourned alone, with her knees pulled to her chest and her arms around her ribs to keep the broken pieces in place. She never knew there was another way, but as Castle hugs her through the silent tears and the quiet, breathless whimpers, she realizes this is so much better.

He makes it so much better.

"I love you, Castle," she sighs, a little shaky, but the tears have dried on her cheeks, on his shirt, and she buries her nose in the warm skin of his throat.

"Love you back," he rasps against her temple. "Want me to make some dinner?"

She nods, rubbing her cheek against his collarbone. "Comfort food. I'm going to go change."

He whines and she lifts her head, startled by the sudden amusement that flickers to life in her chest.

"Fan of the uniform, Castle?" she smirks, her heart not all in it, but it was enough. He grins back at her, the dark circles under his eyes disappearing for a moment as he shrugged.

"I don't begrudge you of your turn-ons."

She rolls her eyes and clutches the collar of his black dress shirt – he looks so grim in all black, so different from the usual ray of light he represents in her life. She can't wait for this day to be over.

The kiss she presses to his mouth is brief, fleeting, and he doesn't try to deepen it, taking only a moment to sip from her lips before brushing his hand down the curve of her neck, fiddling with her collar as she pulls away.

"I'll keep this in your closet, for another time," she promises, toying with the buttons of the shirt and chuckling when he shakes his head to hide the subtle darkening of his eyes.

Castle retreats to the kitchen when she turns for the office and she listens to the cacophony of pots and pans clattering together while she makes her way to his bedroom, intent on slipping into a pair of his boxers and an oversized t-shirt from his bureau. The last few days have been an absolute mess, painful and bitter and heart wrenching, but sharing a relaxing night in with Castle feels like a step in the right direction to recovery.

But after tonight… Roy gave her information about her mother's murder she had never imagined knowing about. He hadn't given her names, but he had filled in a piece of the puzzle she never would have found otherwise, and now he was dead. Dead because of her.

And she's still supposed to just walk away? Not touch her mother's case again after everything that's happened?

Kate bites her lip as she bypasses Castle's desk, her hip knocking into the remote control for the smart-board and sending it tumbling to the floor.

She sighs as she bends to pick it up. She doesn't know if she can keep her promise to Castle.

But when she retrieves the remote from the ground, her index finger stabs the power button and the screen on the wall comes to life.

"Shit," she murmurs, hastily trying to turn it off. She knows this is the device he uses for his books and as curious as she is to see what he's planning for Nikki Heat, she doesn't want to snoop through his personal ideas without his permission.

Her finger hovers over the power button once more, but she spares a single glance before she turns the screen to black.

Her breath catches as the remote clatters to the floor for a second time.

That is not Nikki Heat. Those are not fictional character, not fictional case notes.

This is a murder board. Her murder board.

* * *

A photo of Kate is center stage on the screen, a web of case information branching out from her picture. Her mother is in the upper corner, smiling back at her, and she wants to throw up, wants to break the screen in front of her with her fists, wants to collapse to the ground and finally let the dam holding the tears break.

He's investigating her mother's case. Even if she is the one in the center of the screen, this is her mother's murder board on display.

Beckett presses her palm to the middle of her sternum, tries to keep the jagged fragments of her heart from puncturing her lungs.

How could he do this? After everything they've been through together, after everything-

She chokes on a sob and has to lean against the hard oak of his desk for support, her vision starting to blur and spiral. He had stood with her as she had taken down her own murder board, as she had said goodbye to the most important thing in her life, and he has his own right here.

She's going to have a fucking panic attack in his office.

"Kate?"

Her eyes screw shut at the sound of his voice coming from the living room. She grits her teeth, tries to brace herself – for what, she doesn't know. All she can be sure of is that he's betrayed her, hurt her in a way that's paralyzed her, made it hard to breathe, caused everything inside her to rip apart, her heart to shatter, the broken pieces like shrapnel stabbing at her chest.

She hates him. She _hates _him so much, but even now, even as she wants to use her bare hands to physically wound him, use vicious words to inflict as much pain on him as he had caused her, she still loves him too much to leave him.

His footsteps come to an abrupt halt in the office doorway and she hears the sharp intake of breath the moment he realizes what she's found.

"Kate," he starts, his voice quiet, hesitant and afraid – damn right he should be afraid. "Please, just listen to me, I-"

"How could you do this?" she whispers, glaring hard at the floor, the soft crème rug under her feet. She can't look at him, doesn't even want to be anywhere near him right now. She wishes she were at her own apartment, in the safety of her own home where there are no secrets hiding in computer screens.

Distance would aid in keeping her from physically harming him.

"I was just trying to protect you."

The anger flares hot and visceral in her chest as she rounds on him.

"_Protect _me? You were protecting me by going behind my back, investigating a case you helped me put away?" she questions, her voice rising with every word, ringing through the office, through the open walls of bookshelves.

"I tried to tell you," he reasons, soft in comparison to her blazing rage. "The day Montgomery was killed, I was approached by someone. Kate, there's some type of deal on your life."

Her jaw squares, clenching at the information. Information he shouldn't have. God, why does he have to be involved with this? Why does one of the rare, good things in her life have to be tainted by the darkness?

"The man told me that as long as you don't investigate, they won't come after you."

Her head snaps up, finally looking him in the eye, searching through the fear and the honesty for more, for a deeper truth. "He wanted you to make sure I didn't investigate?"

Castle nods slowly and she feels her insides coil with dread. Please, _please_ let her be wrong.

"Are you a part of this? Is that why you wanted me?" she asks, trying to make the question impersonal, cold like one she would ask a murderer in interrogation, but her voice cracks over the words and her face crumbles in on itself and she has to glance away.

Castle's eyes widen, his mouth opening, but he looks so taken aback he can barely get a breath in.

"How could you even _think_ that?" he growls, coming for her, but she instinctively jerks away and he stops. "I never knew anything about this until three days ago and you're questioning whether everything we have is _real_?"

"I don't know what to think! How am I even supposed to trust a single word you say anymore-"

"Because I love you!" he yells, not stopping this time and grabbing her by the hips, hauling her close. She's never seen him so furious, never imagined his eyes so dark with hurt and anger, and even though she believes him, even though she doesn't want to fight anymore, she shoves at his chest, tries to force him off of her.

"You love me? You put yourself in danger!" she hisses, blinking through the salt stinging her eyes, the thought of him meeting with shadowy figures and discussing deadly deals making her palms sweat. "God, Castle, it's bad enough there are people who want me dead, but now they know who you are and they're going to kill you too! They've taken everyone and now they're going to take you-"

She sobs into his chest when his arms trap her there. She didn't think she had any tears left, but they stream from her eyes like oceans and stain his shirt in large puddles.

"No, Kate," he whispers in her ear, breathing hard, tears in his voice. "No, I'm not going to leave you. I love you, I love you, I won't go."

Her fingers score into his back as she clings to him, hating both herself and him for this fight, hating the people who orchestrated the murders of people she loved, hating the man who dragged Castle into this.

"You have to stop," she chokes out.

"Kate-"

"This is my life, Castle. _Mine_. You can't go around cutting deals on it, trying to solve this yourself, it's too much." She lifts her head, determined for him to listen to her. "Just leave it alone."

He opens his mouth to say something, but before the words can leave his lips, his eyes are flickering to the window, once, twice, then zeroing in on the glass at her back.

"Rick?"

She glances behind her just as she hears the crack in the glass of the window.

"Get down!"

He's throwing them both to the ground a split second later, but she feels the bullet shoot through her back before they can reach the floor, deflating her chest, her lungs, her heart. She curls her fingers into Castle's arm, tries to hold on through the pain that coils around her like a noose, tightening, tightening, tightening until her vision fades to black.


	28. Chapter 28

They both slam to the floor. Castle cradles her head in the crook of his arm as they fall, feels his elbow crash into the wood, but the pain lancing up his arm is his last concern as he sits up with her and catches the sight of red staining the ground.

"No, Kate," he gasps, cradling her crumpled body as he pushes to his knees, scrambling for the phone in his pocket on autopilot, blindly dialing the precinct because underneath the chaos of his mind, he knows they'll get an ambulance here quicker than a 911 operator.

"Esposito," he gasps as soon as the line connects, balancing the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he maneuvers himself and Kate behind the desk, shielding her from the window. Cover, they have to take cover.

"Castle? Hey man, are you there?"

Words, Esposito needs his words, he's supposed to be good with those, where did they all go?

"Kate. Shot. Someone shot her. My place."

There's a flurry of movement on the other line, Esposito barking orders and asking questions but Castle's missing half of them, staring down in horror at Kate's colorless face.

"Stay with me, Kate," he whispers, begs, cradling her closer, trying to locate the wound in her back. "Please, please-"

"_Castle. _Your address!" Esposito demands.

Rick blurts the information out and drops the phone when his hand skims low between her shoulder blades and she groans. But her eyes are fluttering closed just as quickly as they'd flared open, rolling back, and oh god _no._ She can't leave, can't him alone.

"Kate," he croaks, pressing his hand to the entry wound, trying to keep the blood from pouring out of her. "Love, please-"

There's yelling coming from the discarded phone by his knee, a female voice that he recognizes – _Lanie._

"Please tell me what to do," he chokes into the phone. "Please, she's unconscious, Lanie-"

"Where's the entry wound?" her best friend questions, her own voice strangled with panic.

"Her back, the middle of her back."

Right where her heart and lungs reside.

"Chest compressions, chest compressions until the ambulance gets there. Just hold on for a few minutes and keep her breathing, Castle. Just keep her breathing."

He keeps the speakerphone on as he pumps his twined hands over Kate's sternum, dropping his ear to her lips every few seconds to catch the weak flow of air coming through her parted lips. But after only a few rounds of the CPR, her breathing stops.

The front door to his loft bursts open.

She's not breathing.

* * *

The wait is agony. He was allowed to ride in the ambulance with Lanie and a paramedic on the way to the hospital, he had sat at the head of the gurney she was strapped to, stroking fingers through her hair, accidentally coating a few strands with the lingering blood drenching his hands. He wishes he could be doing the same now, be there with her through the surgery she was rushed into. The surgery she's been in for four hours now.

He's spent the entire length of it in an uncomfortable chair next to Jim Beckett. Her father met him at the hospital - not how he had imagined his first meeting with Kate's father going - and the older man makes comforting, quiet company beside him. Attempts at conversation are made but stinted, starting up before dying under the weight of shared worry flowing between them.

"She told me about you," is one of the few starters Jim offers. "Said she was bringing you to lunch this weekend."

Castle nods, the memory of the two of them each half naked and happy in her office seeming like another lifetime. "I was looking forward to it, sir."

"Jim," he corrects with a sad smile. "Katie never introduces me to men she's seeing, hardly ever brings them up when we talk on the phone either, but you… she seems pretty smitten."

She's talked about him to her father? He knew she was going to inform him about bringing him along to lunch, but Jim makes it sound as though Kate's brought him up other times and apparently sang his praises. She can't die, she _can't_, he has to tease her about this later. And thank her for it.

"I'm in love with her," he decides to put it out there. This is not how he had hoped to meet her father, no, but so far he likes the older man. He doesn't like the grim terror in his eyes, doesn't like how he was panicked yet unsurprised when he came bounding into the waiting room, as if he knew this would happen one day, but he likes the calming presence, the attempt at distraction.

Rick thought he would have to wait for the verdict on her life alone and he's glad that isn't the case any longer.

His mother and daughter are on their way back from a spa trip he had insisted they take the morning after Montgomery's death. The whole purpose of keeping them away had been to ensure their safety, and if he could have it his way, he would make them stay even longer, but after telling his mother what happened, she was insistent upon returning and informed him that Alexis was too.

He has to pull it together before they arrive, but he doesn't know how.

"She told me," Jim reveals with the smallest hint of a smirk. "That's how I knew it was serious."

Her father pats him on the back before rising from the chair, shuffling over to the tiny coffee machine across the room. Lanie comes striding in and he's thankful when she comes to take Jim's place at his side. He thinks if he has to be alone, has to keep replaying the image of her body caving and going limp in his arms any longer, he might snap.

Lanie gives him a sympathetic look, but doesn't say anything. He isn't sure if he's thankful for that or not. She's been with the boys and the other officers combing through his office and trying to track down the shooter. Lanie's silence tells him they have nothing.

Kate needs more than nothing. Kate needs for them to catch this guy, _he _needs for them to catch this guy, and Kate needs to be safe. He just wants her to be safe.

* * *

It's another four hours before a man wearing scrubs and a tired expression comes through the swinging doors. Castle jerks in his seat, blinking past the flurries of sleep clouding his eyes, and waits in rapt attention for the doctor to give them the news.

It's four in the morning, his mother and daughter aren't here yet due to intense traffic through the long drive. everyone in the room is exhausted, each person's drifted off in their seat for an hour or two at least once, but Rick has stayed awake. Each time sleep has slithered around him, threatening to pull him under, he would see her face, the panic in her eyes before they had rolled back, he would feel the heat of her blood coating his fingertips. He doesn't know if he'll ever sleep again.

"She's stable," the older man announces and a collective sigh of relief ripples through the room. Esposito, Ryan, and Lanie - her little precinct family - share a grateful look, Jim scrubs at his eyes to hide the tears, but Castle's heart still pounds too quickly, waiting for more, for the potential _but _to arise.

The surgeon is talking again, explaining the nature of her injury even though one of the night nurses did the same a few hours ago. He tells them about the bullet that pierced her back, lodged itself in close to her heart, mere inches away from killing her instantly.

Castle feels sick again, can practically smell the memory of her blood and hear the stuttered gasp of her breath when the bullet hit.

"One at a time, you can see her, but your visits are limited to twenty minutes at most."

He scoffs, internally, because they haven't met him yet.

"Go ahead," Castle encourages her father when the doctor offers to lead one of them back and Rick notices that Jim hesitates, examining him for a moment before nodding his thanks and following the doctor down the hallway.

Castle takes out his phone while he waits, flinches when he realizes it's still smeared with red.

"Here, sweetie," Lanie murmurs, slipping the device from his fingers and tending to it with water and a napkin from the small table that holds the coffeemaker.

She hands it back to him once it's cleaned, but he shoves it away in his pocket. Can't look at it.

Castle stabs his elbows into his knees, leans forward and buries his face in his hands, and waits. So much torturous waiting.

He thinks Jim appears even worse when he returns from the brief visit. Stricken, that's a good word for the expression on his face, and Castle tries to brace himself.

"I'm going to make a stop at my place," her father tells him, sounding hollow, devastated. "Shower, maybe grab something to eat. Do you want anything? I could… breakfast, I could bring that."

The idea of food makes him nauseous, but Jim looks so lost and in need to do something, so much like Kate, so Castle nods.

"Breakfast would be good."

"Good," Jim nods, more to himself than to Rick. "Good. You go see Katie, I'll be back in an hour."

Her father exits the room, heads for the elevators at the end of the long hall, and Castle stands from his chair on shaky legs, asks for the nurse to lead him back to Kate. They warn him again that she's going to look a lot worse than she really is, and that he is only going to get twenty minutes, but he doesn't respond. He'll do whatever he has to in order to stay until she's allowed to leave too.

They're almost to her room when a hand touches his arm from behind. Castle pauses, glancing over his shoulder, and comes face to face with Josh Davidson. For a split second, he wonders if this will be some final showdown bullshit he doesn't have the time for, but instead, Josh offers him a pursed lip smile.

"I heard about Kate," he murmurs and the sentence, the fierce reminder that her condition is being spread around a hospital filled with heart surgeons, causes the fault line in his heart to crack wider. "Her surgeon said she has a good chance of pulling through."

Castle swallows and forces a nod.

Josh scrapes a hand through his hair and tries another strained smile that Rick thinks is supposed to be encouraging. "Well, I hope the recovery goes okay."

"Yeah, me too."

"And uh, Castle?"

Rick lifts his eyebrows, too impatient to be having this awkward conversation with Kate's ex-boyfriend in a sterile hallway when he should be at her bedside by now.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry, about before. I was out of line and I hope things work out, for you and Kate."

Oh. Well. "Thank you?"

Josh thankfully doesn't say anything more, only nods to the nurse who was all too happy for his company, and walks away. He does appreciate the other man's change in attitude, the mutual respect that seems to have suddenly spouted between them, but he doesn't have the time to dwell on the shift. He just wants Kate.

The nurse, he really does wish he could remember her name, notices his impatience before he can say anything and returns to the task of guiding him to Kate's room.

"Right through there," the young blonde holds the door for him.

The sight of her almost sends him to his knees, relief and horror swarming him in unison, and he practically staggers to the chair at her bedside, glad the nurse has made her exit before she could see how unstable he really is.

They told him not to touch anything, not to do anything at all but sit in the chair, but when he finally reaches her, he takes the small hand lying on the white sheet, covers her knuckles and traces the bones of her fingers.

"Oh, Kate."

She feels so fragile, so cold and breakable, but the pulse in her wrist, the heart monitor on the opposite end of the bed, assures him she lives. She's pale and papery, drained and stiff, practically devoid of life. But she lives.


	29. Chapter 29

After remaining at her bedside for the remainder of the night and well into the next day, Jim forces him to go home, at least for a change of clothes. Castle hates to leave her alone, so frail and unprotected in the hospital bed, but her father promises he and the security guards at her door will keep her safe while he's away.

He forces himself to leave because he knows it's what she would want and because he knows he wouldn't make a difference if another sniper shot his way into her room. He can't protect her. All he can do is hurt her. That was the last thing he had done right before she nearly died. He betrayed her trust and broke her heart. But if she can pull through this, if she can just keep living, he'll spend the rest of her life doing whatever he can to make up for his mistake.

"I could come with you," Ryan offers once he finally shuffles from her room, down the hall and back into the nauseating space of the waiting room. "You know, just in case?"

He likes Ryan, he realizes in the back of his mind, but he shakes his head at the detective.

"No thanks, but I'll call, if anything happens," Castle assures him. "Just stay here, stay with her."

Ryan nods and Esposito does too, solemn and promising, and he's thankful for them, thankful she has a circle of people in her life who would fight to protect her as viciously as he would.

He takes a cab to his place, too numbed and exhausted to attempt anything more strenuous, and focuses on the changing colors of the leaves throughout the drive. Outside of his loft, he pauses, his hand hovering over the doorknob. The last time he was here, Kate had bled out in his arms. The last time he was here, he and a group of police officers and paramedics had hustled to get her downstairs, into an ambulance.

His home has been turned into a crime scene that he doesn't know if he can stand to revisit. But he could use a shower, the sink in the hospital was enough to remove the blood from his hands, but his shirt still has splotches of crimson staining the front. He's been wearing her blood around for almost an entire day.

Castle takes a deep breath, tries not to gag on it, and pushes his front door open. The loft is empty of the crime scene analysts that Ryan had informed him about yesterday. The NYPD had gone through the entirety of his home during the night and early into the morning, as well as the empty apartment across the street, where the sniper had hunkered down and taken aim.

Will they ever feel safe here again?

He glances around, studies the surfaces of his home, the multitude of memories made with his daughter, his mother, and most recently the woman he loves. The loft has always been refuge for him, a welcoming sanctuary for the last seventeen years, but he just doesn't know if he can see it that way ever again. Not when a piece of his family was nearly killed here and his safe haven turned to a personal hell.

Rick sighs and scratches at his jaw, feeling the rough stubble abrade his fingertips as he forces himself forward. He just has to shower and then he can leave.

But he stills at the sound of movement coming from the office – the sound of wood on wood, of spritzing liquid, and… sniffling?

Rick approaches his office in quick strides before he can stop himself, pokes his head inside, and sees the floor littered with sponges and cleaning supplies, his desk pushed out of the way, and his daughter on her hands and knees, scrubbing at the floor with vigor. His daughter, whom he forgot all about in the midst of this disaster.

"Alexis?"

Her head jerks and she hastily wipes at the tears on her cheeks, sits back on her haunches.

"What - what are you doing?" he asks, taking a tentative step towards her.

He catches the shaky breath she inhales even as she turns her head to hide it from him.

"When Grams and I got here, they were still cleaning the blood from the ground, but they missed a spot and - and I didn't want Kate's blood to stain, but I can't get it out. I can't-"

Her voice cracks and falters and she quickly looks away, allowing the curtains of her hair to cover her face.

Castle drops down beside her and wraps his arms around her, cradling her to her chest and stroking her hair as she abandons the sponge and cleaning supplies to return his embrace, hiding her face in his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie. I should have been here, I'm sorry-"

"No," she sniffles against his shirt. "We were supposed to come to you, but Grams thought we should grab some clothes for you and some of our stuff for the hotel she checked us into."

Rick sighs and presses his cheek to his daughter's head.

"I told her to check you both into a hotel so you wouldn't have to come here."

He listens for his mother on the floor above, hears the distinct sound of footsteps as she likely flutters around rooms, checking to make sure they have anything.

"Is Kate going to die?" Alexis rasps, shaking ever so slightly with the question, and the words, the possibility, makes his bones grow cold.

"No, no she just got out of surgery last night and the doctor says she has a strong chance of making it," he promises her, promises them both. "You know her, Alexis. She'll fight her way back."

"It's not fair," she whispers, the gentle tremors growing stronger, shaking them both as she starts to cry, soft and heartbreaking. "It's not fair."

"No," he sighs, staring at the gleaming wood of the floor over her head, seeing nothing marring the surface as his daughter had claimed. He hugs her tighter. "It's not."

* * *

The text from Jim comes while he, his mother, and Alexis are stepping out of the cab in front of the hospital. They stopped by the hotel he's insisting they reside in for the next few days, dropped off the bags, and then returned to the cab. Just in time.

_Katie's awake._


	30. Chapter 30

When she wakes, she hears his voice, soft and uneven, but chattering away.

"I talked to your dad and he said he'd come with us. I think he'll like the beach, or at least the pool. The pool will be good for your recovery. And while we're there, I'll look into real estate again. I know there are a few nice places on the market, and according to my agent, Greg, the loft will sell easily-"

Her eyes peel back at that, her brow furrowing in confusion.

"What?"

Castle's gaze shoots up to see her, the exhaustion on his face disappearing as he rises from the chair pushed up next to her hospital bed.

"You're awake."

She makes a noise of consent, realizes it's hard to swallow, and glances to the bedside table in hope of water. Castle brings the straw to her lips, slips a hand over her cheek to keep her neck elevated through the slow sips that slither down her throat.

It isn't the first time she's woken since the surgery, not nearly as torturous as it had been those first couple of times. Opening her eyes to the dimly lit hospital room for the first time with a tube down her throat and white-hot agony flaring across her back had been the worst. She knows she awoken at least once more after that, remembers Castle kneeling at her bedside, his elbows pressing against the edge of her hospital bed as he leaned over her, wiping tears from her face and whispering assurances in her hair while a woman in scrubs adjusted the IV in her arm.

This time isn't so bad, isn't blurred with the pull of sleep and the unbearable hot pulse of pain at her back. The ache is still there, momentarily dulled due to whatever drugs are running through her bloodstream, but she at least feels coherent enough to speak to him for a few minutes.

"Sell the loft?" she echoes, blinking through the haze that's settled like a film over her eyes. "Why?"

Rick sighs and strokes fingers through her hair, his touch warm and drugging like the medications streaming from her IV, and she wishes he would crawl in the bed with her, slip his body in next to hers. She's already propped on her side to avoid touching her back to the bed, but her shoulder is starting to ache from the position, and draping her limbs over the solid length of his frame would be oh so good.

"I can't stay there, neither can Alexis, not when it's the place where you were shot."

Beckett grunts. "Rick, that's your home," she mumbles, her words already slurring. "Don't let me ruin that."

"You haven't ruined anything," he protests immediately, vehemently, and she curls her fingers into the overly starched, white sheets beneath her.

"What are you talking about, the beach?" she brings up instead and he bites his lip. "Castle."

"I was thinking my place in the Hamptons would be a good place for you to recover. You enjoyed it last time and it's safe. Safer than the city."

The shadows return to dance across his face and for a second she has to think back to remember. She doesn't like to remember being shot in his home, doesn't like to remember the horror that had struck his eyes and paled his face just before she had sunk into the darkness.

"Where are Ryan and Espo on the investigation?" she murmurs, assuming her boys are the lead investigators on the case, and looks to Castle for confirmation, but her attention falls away from the question and focuses instead on how it weighs him down, how it highlights the violet smudges beneath his eyes and evokes a pained grimace.

"Nowhere," he confesses, scrubbing at his eyes with the heels of his palms. He looks like he hasn't slept in days and she realizes it's probably true.

"Castle." His eyes lift to her, slow and dull, and her chest ripples with concern. "Get in," she whispers, patting the bedding beneath her fingers. "You look horrible and I want you with me."

"Kate, I can't - I'll hurt you and regulations-"

"Fuck regulations," she growls, but she's sure it sounds more like another pathetic rasp.

He sighs, relenting, and she smiles as he carefully slides onto the raised bed, inching across the space until she can finally curl a leg over his, press the front of her body against his side. Oh yes, that's good, and he's so warm. In the few instances she's come to consciousness, she's always felt chilled, but he's like a giant heating pad next to her.

"Wrap your arm around my neck," she instructs and he huffs, but acquiesces her nonetheless, gingerly slipping his arm beneath her neck, curling it around and burying his fingers in her hair. "Mm, that feels good."

"Yeah? Not too painful?" he asks and she considers lying to him, but he might as well know what hurts, what doesn't.

"Still painful," she admits, realizing her eyes have fallen shut and she can't find the energy to open them again. "Hurt when I lifted my leg, hurts to move, but it feels better having you against me."

"Looks like I'm going to be your personal pillow for the next couple of months then," he chuckles, but the gentle laugh is strained and Kate presses her lips to the first place she can find, a piece of his chest, feels the shaky sigh that leaves him.

"Don't sell the loft," she mutters. "I love the loft."

"I'll find somewhere better," he answers, massaging his fingers into her scalp, aiding the drugs that are taking her under. "We'll find a place together."

She hums, not minding the sound of that.

"This you asking me to move in with you?"

His laugh is lighter this time. "If you're saying yes, sure."

"I'll move in with you, Castle," she breathes, starting to drift, but wanting to stay. "Probably marry you sometime soon too."

* * *

"Ready to marry me yet, Beckett?"

She grunts at him from her place in the middle of the water, doesn't have to look to know he's smiling, smug and satisfied over words she had said over a month and a half ago in her hospital bed. Words he brings up at least once every other day.

He's sitting at the edge of the pool with his legs submerged, watching her with a smirk. Castle had been in the water with her during her exercises, spotting her despite her protests while she kicked her legs and fought against the usual threat of tears. She hated having him around during therapy, but he rarely leaves her side most days.

She had eventually allowed him to help her onto the blown up lounge chair she's currently drifting on now. Physical therapy devastates her body, turns her into a crumpled mess of burning muscles and shaking limbs, but at least her pool exercises give her a sense of buoyancy. It makes the pain that still blankets her back a little less excruciating, allows her the freedom to move in ways she can't on land. She's never loved a pool of water so much.

"Shut up," she huffs, bumping against the edge of the pool and grinning to herself when he pushes her out to sail again.

"I'll never let you live that down."

"I was drugged," she reminds him.

"Don't blame it on the morphine, Beckett. Told you you'd be dying to marry me sooner or later."

She rolls her eyes and dips one of her arms in the water.

"Hate you," she mutters, adjusting her cheek on the warm plastic and trying not to shiver when a cool breeze whispers through the air despite the heat of the pool. It's already growing close to November, the air is chilled and the goosebumps have already congregated on her exposed skin since she's emerged from the water, but his pool is the temperature of soothing bathwater and Rick had the entire patio space closed in while she was still in the hospital. He had paid double to have insulated walls constructed around the entire space in under a week, just to keep the area as warm as possible while she does her exercises. It's convenient and a little over the top, and she wishes she could express how much she appreciates it.

Kate hears the splash of him slipping from the tiled edge minutes later, feels the waves emitting from his swimming figure as he grows closer.

"Okay?" he murmurs, placing a gentle palm beneath her shoulder blades, over the healing wound in the middle of her back. The tense knots of her muscles loosen under his hand, the tight fist of pain slowly unraveling beneath his warm touch and she snakes the hand beneath the surface around his bare waist, holding onto him by the waistband of his swim trunks.

This wasn't how she had imagined her return to the Hamptons with him, but it hasn't been all bad. Recovery has been agony, but having Castle around to care for her has been healing in its own way.

They have no leads, no progress, nothing on the man who shot her. They both wake with nightmares, the sniper who put a bullet through his window still out there, people who want her dead still lurking, waiting for her return, but he's been with her through nightmares before, knows how to calm her down and ease her back to sleep, and she's learned to do the same for him. They aren't safe, not necessarily, but they have security posted across the property, they have the boys doing whatever they can in the city, and if it means she can have a life, a future, him, she can stay away from the case that put a bullet in her back.

"Just tired. What's new?"

He chuckles and draws her float towards the shallow end of the pool with him. They work together to ease her from the float and onto her feet, but once she's floating with him in the water, she wraps her arms low at his waist.

"Kiss me," she murmurs, wishing he wasn't so damn tall so she could just lean forward and do it herself, but he doesn't deny her, sinking in the water and giving in to her mouth, distracting her from the pain swirling in her back with the sweet taste of his lips and the vivid sweep of his tongue.

Her fingers dance along the edges of his swim trunks, but he catches her hands before she can push the bathing suit down. She's surprised when he doesn't immediately put her away, releasing her hands and slipping his fingers into her wet hair instead, cradling her face as he does a languorous sweep of her mouth with his tongue.

She hums, traipsing her fingers up his bare sides, strumming the bones of his ribs, reaching to wrap her arms around his neck – when her body has her tensing, a taut snap of pain rippling through her back.

He stops the delightful ministrations of his tongue, abandons her mouth entirely, and she tries not to wince under his gaze, knows it elicits the irrational worry he can't seem to tamper down no matter how many times he's seen her enduring the pain, and holds onto him without protest as he leads her onto the patio, wrapping a towel over her shoulders.

"I hate this," she sighs, shuffling with him towards the French double doors and Rick squeezes gently at her waist.

"You just need to relax a little from physio first."

"That'll be hours," she grumbles.

Her thighs start to quiver before they can reach the entryway to the house, her legs threatening to seize, her body protesting the movements after the hour of therapy, and Castle lowers them both to a deck chair. She sighs in relief as he lies back, leaving her sprawled across the warmth of his body.

He still brings her body more peace than any medication.

"I'm like a beached whale," she huffs, eliciting a soft laugh from beneath him, and trails her hand over the skin of his arm, watching in satisfaction as the golden hairs rise under her touch. They've had to limit their physical activity since she was cleared for it, but she's always pushing boundaries, driving Castle crazy.

"Tonight," he promises her, but she sighs in frustration. She can't do anything on her own terms anymore, practically everything scheduled, hardly anything spontaneous.

She misses making breakfast, misses the ability to climb stairs without losing her breath halfway up, misses the capability to make it through the day without the creeping paranoia in the back of her mind, to sleep through the night without vivid images jerking her awake, misses surprising him in the middle of the night or early morning with the press of her body and the trail of her lips.

Despite the month of hard healing, her shooting has turned her into an invalid.

"You always have to do most of the work."

"And you think I mind?" he questions, incredulous but amused, because she knows for a fact he doesn't mind putting all of his effort into that particular exercise.

She smiles past the bitterness of her condition, dips her lips to his sternum and brushes a kiss to his skin as he skates his thumb along her ear.

"I want to go to the beach tomorrow, Rick," she murmurs, relaxing against the solid wall of his chest beneath her as she stares out at the enticing expanse of the ocean through the glass.

Castle's hands comb through her hair, fingers dragging over her scalp, and she hums, purring like a cat at the drugging sensation.

"Stop trying to put me to sleep," she grumbles, pinching his side, smirking when his chuckle shakes them both.

"We'll go," he finally relents, but rebounds with a stern voice. "But we're not staying out too long. It's getting colder and I don't want you to get sick."

She rolls her eyes, but decides not to argue, for now. He does have a point, a cold is the last thing she needs, but he's kept her from the beach for the majority of their stay here and it's unfair, even if it is in her best interest, having the waves she loves so much so close, yet untouchable.

"We'll take a blanket," she assures him, already picturing the arrangement. If she's careful, she can even sit between his knees, settle her back against his chest. "We can sit together on the sand."

He hums, strokes a hand down her spine and she sinks deeper against him. She's never been one to enjoy touch, not so excessively, but ever since she started dating Castle, she can't seem to get enough.

"You make it impossible to say no."

"Then don't. The security you hired never takes their eyes off of us, Castle. It'll be okay."

"I just want _you_ to be okay," he murmurs, craning his neck to dust his lips atop her head.

"I will be. I'm getting there, Rick. I promise." He cradles her closer, his arms banding around her like ropes, but she doesn't mind, snuggles into him and allows her eyes to fall shut. "We'll be okay."

She feels his cheek come to a rest against her temple, feels the slow nod of his head.

"We'll be okay."

* * *

His staring wakes her up and she glares at him from the bed as she peels her eyes open, catching him leaning in the doorway, gazing at her like a love struck idiot, and he laughs.

"Told you to stop doing that," she grumbles, turning her face into the pillow again, resisting the urge to roll onto her back and stretch through the pain. He had helped her inside after a short nap on the deck chair they'd collapsed into and her slumber had resumed in the first floor bedroom she sometimes takes residence in when she can't manage the stairs.

"Habit, Beckett. Figured you'd be waking up soon anyway."

She glances at the digital clock on the bedside table, groans at the green numbers that read five p.m.

"How's Alexis?" she asks from the bed, knowing his daughter always calls after she arrives home from school. Sometimes they talk to her together or even opt for a video chat, but there are some days Kate's sleeping schedule interferes and she has to settle for texting his daughter during dinner, before she collapses back into bed with Castle.

"She's good, almost done packing up her room and just finished helping Mother move into her new apartment."

Kate frowns at that. "Castle, we haven't even picked a place yet."

Rick abandons his spot in the doorway and plops down on the bed next to her. She grunts as the mattress shakes and sits up without his help, watches his eyes soften with pride, like they do every time she displays one of the few small milestones in her healing.

"You know that brownstone on Broome? The one you liked?"

"With the windows and the blue door and all the light?"

"The very same."

She bites her lip. "Yeah?"

She still hated that he was selling the loft, but looking at apartments online with him over the last couple of weeks, imagining herself existing with him and his family inside each of them, has been fun.

"Want to pick out furniture tonight?"

Her jaw drops. "You got it?"

"We got it," he corrects her, smiling against her lips when she cups his cheeks in her hands and surges forward to kiss him. She blames the medication for making her eyes water, but he doesn't tease her for the tears trickling down her cheeks. He knows it's been a transition, allowing herself to hope for this – a future, an actual future in a real home with a family. After her mother's murder, she had given up on the mere possibility of a life like that, but Castle... Castle had helped give it back to her.

"We can still go have a tour of it before I put down a final payment, just to be sure, but otherwise, it's ours."

She laughs, watery and breathless, and he swipes at her cheeks for her.

"It'll be perfect," she sighs, tilting her forehead against his, keeping her palms on the soft, unshaven skin of his jaw. "It has so much room. You and me upstairs, Alexis on the first floor-"

"That small extra bedroom down the hall from the master."

Her eyes widen and his do the same, like he hadn't realized his meaning behind the words until it was too late, but she bites her lip again, around the grin forming there, and nods.

"Yeah. We'll save it for when we're ready."

His breath stutters on its way to his lungs, but the smile he gives her, the look of awe and wonder is breathtaking.

"You want that?"

"With you?" she murmurs, nudging his nose with her own. "Yes, I want it all."


End file.
