A/N: Random story I came up with one chilly day. Potential spoilers for anything up to and including Cuffed. Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: Guess what? I don't own it.

Slow Burn

She likes it fast. Everything from motorcycles to the amount of time it takes to solve a case. It needs to get done quickly. One is for her own excitement and adrenaline. To feel her heart pumping just to know she didn't die in the cemetery that day. The other to give families the closure they need; the closure she never got. So families can move on to a better happier place and not be stuck in the hell she lives in.

The rumble of the motor soothes her overactive nerves. The Captain has been scrutinizing her more and more lately. Well, it's not her as much as it is her decisions. Captain Gates will not leave Castle alone. He is under Captain Gates' command, but Castle is her, Katherine Beckett's, partner. He has been at the Precinct longer than Gates. He helps solve cases that would be unsolvable if he wasn't involved. He is an asset that she refuses to see.

Frustrated, Beckett allows her bike to take her wherever is chooses. The city goes by on either side, but she doesn't take notice to the streets or the turns she makes. New York is always a busy place. It's alive. The pace is quick and unrelenting. She can't imagine living anywhere else. No matter who comes in and out of her life the city is a constant.

She finds herself outside the Precinct when she finally realizes the bike has taken her to her desired location. Frowning she parks and walks into the building. A few of the Uniforms greet her with a smile and a wave. She nods in recognition as she continues to her floor. There are a few cold cases she has been meaning to look over anyway. It won't take long to refresh her memory so she has something to concentrate on tonight. It's better than allowing her speedy mind to wander on its own. Those roads are better not crossed.

An hour later she's lost in a case looking at clues that are months, sometimes years old. The people she stares at deserve an answer. Many of them may never get one. The fierce determination to solve something overtakes her. She has to do what she can and more to give these victims a voice. Their voice has been ruthlessly ripped from them. She needs to give it back for a moment.

The sound of her phone ringing breaks her concentration. She takes it from her pocket and glances at the caller ID. It's Castle. She rolls her eyes. "Beckett," she answers deciding to not pay attention to him. She drops the folder she's holding when her voice drifts across the line.

"Kate, dear, why don't you join us for dinner? Rick making a dish that smells positively delicious," Martha asks airily.

"Martha? Why do you have Castle's phone?" she asks first.

"Why because he left it on the counter dear; now Kate, are you going to come to dinner or do you have other plans?" Martha asks again.

"I don't have plans," she answers before she really thinks about it.

"Good, we'll see you in a bit then," Martha says. She hears the distinct click of the phone being hung up. She stares at her phone for a full minute before pocketing it. A smile creeps over her features as she grabs her helmet and exits the building. It doesn't take her long to get to his loft and knock on the door.

"Kate?" Castle asks when he opens the door. He is wearing one of the oddest aprons she has ever seen. There doesn't seem to be a set pattern in the smattering of reds and orange that cover the front. She raises an eyebrow at him. He looks down and shrugs his shoulders. "What are you doing here?"

"Your mother invited me to dinner," she answers and slides past him into the loft. Martha smiles and greets her in a very 'Martha' fashion. Kate laughs and returns the hug that the older woman offeres. The two women chat as Castle goes back to finish cooking whatever it is that he is concocting.

Alexis joins the women a few minutes later. A smile graces her delicate features when she spots Kate. Kate smiles in return and makes room for the younger girl on the couch. It's only seconds later that Kate realizes she is between Martha and Alexis on the couch. She starts to wonder if she should subtly relocate when Martha and Alexis begin to speak around her. Of course she forgets that notion when they both ask for her opinion.

"I hope you three are not plotting my demise in there and if you are at least let me have a little input," Castle calls from the kitchen.

"You'll never know, Dad," Alexis answers him.

"In that case, come eat so I can survive the night," Castle jokes. The trio of women make their way to the table where spread out in front of them is an absolutely delicious looking lasagna. Castle pulls a chair out for his mother while the other two are forced to seat themselves. Kate is sitting between Alexis and Martha once again. That fact bothers her a bit, but not enough for her to dwell on it.

Throughout dinner Castle and Alexis argue the finer points of Pride and Prejudice while Martha talks to Kate about her acting school. The happy chatter along with the clinking of silverware on plates creates a comfortable atmosphere. Once everyone is done eating they sit at the table for a time after everyone has finished eating continuing their previous conversations. Castle glances at her occasionally to make sure she is alright.

Martha begins to gather the dirty dishes and she volunteers to help clean them feeling she needs to do something. Martha scoffs and Alexis looks confused.

"Alexis and I will take care of them tonight," Martha supplies.

"Yeah," Alexis says, "it's not your day anyway." Kate's eyes go wide at the statement. She thinks back to the few times she has eaten with the Castle's. As the numbers escalate higher she realizes she has been eating with them more often lately. In fact, she has eaten with them on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays fairly regularly as of late. She has done the dishes on Tuesdays with either Castle or Alexis because Martha has an evening class at her school. Why hadn't she noticed it before?

"Because you haven't given yourself time to slow down," Castle says answering her internal question.

"Castle…" she starts, but stops when his fingers tap the top of her hand.

"Sometimes it's better when you let it slowly burn," he tells her with a shrug. She stares at his fingers for a second before grasping his hand in hers. He smiles at the unexpected contact.

"What if it's too slow?" she asks him a minute later. The sound of dishes rattling and laughter can be heard from the kitchen. Castle motions for her to stand. She releases his hand and follows him to the door. She grabs her jacket from the closet as they walk out the door. Once on the street he takes her hand once again.

"You have to trust yourself to know," he says carefully.

"To know what?"

"If it's going too slow. You have to trust yourself, Kate," he looks at her when to illustrate his point.

"I don't so slow well, Rick," she whispers. He laughs. She glares at him. He tries to gain control of himself, but he fails. She finds herself slightly angry with his unabashed glee at her admission.

"Don't I know it, Kate, but sometimes you have to walk instead of run because when you run everything goes by in a blur. When you walk you can take time to look in the shops and enjoy the scenery," he finally says.

"What are we doing, Rick?" she asks three blocks later.

"Slowly burning," he answers.

""What?"

"Slowly burning. If a fire burns too fast it'll burn itself out of fuel, but if it sets the right pace it can burn for eons," he explains and squeezes her hand.

"That's another way of saying don't move to fast," she says just to spite him. He sighs theatrically.

"Yes, Kate, but my version has a certain ring to it," he brags. She chuckles. They continue their stroll for another hour ending up in the place they began. He releases her hand and offers her a kiss on the cheek in farewell. Her helmet is mysteriously sitting on her motorcycle seat when she gets to it. She starts it up and pulls out. She takes her time going back to her place. Maybe slow isn't so bad after all.

A/N: So….what did you think?