A/N: So, 5 weeks is a long time between eps and my crazy thoughts might have gotten away from me. Based on the promo for 5x10(which is edited to show Beckett uttering a choice line) and the promo pics for 5x11(really Castle, one cup of coffee again?), I made a conjecture. Lord knows that it won't be what really happens, but speculation is fun!

Castle finds a spot to park the Mercedes about halfway down the block from the intersection that Beckett texted him this morning. It feels weird to only have one cup of coffee in his hand but she said not to bring her any, already had had plenty this morning. He got one anyway but leaves it in the car. She can have it later. Or not. But after the last time he didn't bring coffee to a crime scene, he's not willing to risk it.

He spots her leaning against a building, one leg bent, sole of her boot resting on the brick. She's looking at something on her phone (which reminds him that he needs to poke her to take her turn on Words with Friends) but raises her head as he gets close almost as if she senses he's there. She pushes off the building, pockets her phone and smiles at him, joy crinkling at the corners of her eyes.

He can't help but notice the lack of crime scene.

"Hey," he says as he draws close. "Where's the body?"

"Another block down," she answers.

"Then why-" he starts but she cuts him off with cold fingers on his neck and warm lips on his own.

She pulls back for a moment, breathes, "That's why," before leaning back in. He snakes his coffee-free arm around her waist, pulls her body against his and tilts his head a little more to get the angle just right. She sighs out a moan and he can't help but smile at the sound.

"Missed you, too." He knows he sounds a little cocky but he can't care because he just got a good morning kiss from Kate Beckett. He's pretty sure that the novelty of that event will never go away. He certainly doesn't want it to.

She steps back, shaking her head at him but her closed mouth smile only serves to prove him right. She starts walking and he falls into step beside her.

He holds up the coffee, asks, "You sure about not needing one?"

"Absolutely. I've already had, uh, two pots this morning," she winces at the admission.

"Seriously?"

"I've been up since four."

"Couldn't sleep?" He tries not to let it show but he knows some of the worry he feels has crept into his voice.

"I was, uh, packing." She winces again almost as if she's afraid he'll be mad but then his arm is around her waist once more, his lips finding hers instinctually. He knows they don't really have time for this so he keeps it short but he just can't help himself.

"Too excited to sleep?" Damn, he's a cocky bastard today. But if you can't be cocky about your beautiful, brilliant girlfriend wanting to give you a good morning kiss and not being able to sleep because she's excited to move in with you, when can you?

It wasn't at all what he expected out of her staying at the loft while her apartment was fumigated. He loved the idea that she would be there full time for the better part of a week, loved that he unequivocally knew that he would go to bed with her every night and wake up next to her every morning. Loved that, for a short period, when either of them said "Let's go home," there would be no discussion as to whose home. And the first few days were amazing, they fell into a natural rhythm and it felt like she'd been there all along.

Of course, at the time, they had no idea that the loft would be as crowded as it became, had no idea that one of his ex-wives would be among the residents. And it could have been an epic level disaster.

But he saw through Meredith's deceptions and took a stand. He made sure that she was completely clear on where he and Kate stood, how important and permanent she was to him. And then tried to explain to Kate what it meant to his daughter to have her mother around because that's all he saw Meredith as now. And he couldn't deny his daughter her mother. But when Kate started a sentence with "You're not the man that I thought I knew," his heart stopped because couldn't she see? Didn't she know? Then she finished with "You're more amazing than I ever thought," and his heart came back to life with such force, such love that he thought it would jump out of his chest for all to see.

Her arms slipped around his neck and she was kissing him before he could recover and instead of kissing her back, he found himself saying "Stay," against her lips.

She pulled back enough to look at him. "What?"

"Don't go back to your apartment, stay here."

"You know I can't. I'm out of clothes and I have to make sure they didn't explode this apartment, too." She smiled at her own attempt at a joke but he didn't reciprocate, was too caught up in the image of seeing her in his home, their home, every day.

"That's not what I mean."

Her eyes widened and he was pretty sure she caught on but she asked, "What are you saying?"

"Move in." He took a deep breath, already preparing all the reasons she should so that he could convince her.

"Okay." She released the word on a breath and he wasn't sure that he heard her right.

"Okay?" He asked dumbly. She smiled his favorite smile at him, lips stretched wide, teeth gleaming, love shining in her eyes.

"Okay," she said again in affirmation.

She didn't go back to her apartment that night either.

She hangs her head, turns to start walking again. "I'm not gonna live this down, am I?"

"Nope." He lifts the coffee cup to his lips which is not what he wants to be doing with his mouth right now but he can see the yellow tape around their destination and is trying to rein it in. "How far did you get?"

"Books, DVDs, summer clothes that I don't need right now, most of my decorations and knick-knacks," she's ticking them off on her fingers, stops to take the blue gloves from the uniformed officer guarding the tape line and snaps them on before ducking under.

He waves off the offer for the same (he still feels weird about touching things at crime scenes even with gloves on) and follows her. "No wonder you needed two pots of coffee."

"I was about to make a third when the call for this came in."

"Yep, never living this down." Most of the words are hidden behind the cup he's lifting to sip from as Esposito heads over to them. She suppresses a smile as best she can between pressed lips. She mostly fails.

"Seriously? Didn't you learn from the last time?" the younger detective quips, motioning to the coffee cup.

"I did, in fact. Even though she said she didn't need one this morning, there's a cup waiting for her in the car." Castle's smile is mostly pride but some of the cockiness sneaks in. She looks at him with surprise in her eyes and that barely tamped smile escapes across her face.

She bumps him affectionately with her shoulder. "I did mean it."

"Just hedging my bets."

Esposito shakes his head at the pair of them.

"So who do we have?" Beckett asks, her voice and demeanor all business now.

Castle brings the other coffee in when he gets to the Twelfth. Despite the insomniac confession about her earlier caffeine consumption, she drinks it while she writes up the murder board.

It's better than any third pot of coffee she could have made.

I'd love to know what you think.

(Also, I seriously almost named this fic "Two Pots to the Wind." Too much?)