To Bee, who gave me ridiculously unfounded encouragement when she didn't even know I needed it.
She sits on the bed, her eyes tracking his movements as he wanders through the bedroom. He's trying to accomplish some semblance of his normal evening routine but isn't quite achieving it. His footsteps drag, he spends too much time in front of the dresser, the decision of which pajama pants taking an inordinately long time. He drops his travel-worn clothes in the hamper just inside the closet.
"I thought you'd be angrier at me."
He admits it softly, the rustle of the clothing almost drowning out the words. But he looks at her after he says it, eyes remorseful, shoulders up around his ears as if he's ready for a fight.
She thinks she understands but, "Why?" She needs to hear it from him.
His face contorts in confusion. "Because I lied to you and flew to Paris." The "duh" goes unspoken.
"To save your daughter." She says it lightly, as it the gravity of the entire ordeal doesn't lie in those four words.
"I won't apologize for that."
"I haven't asked you to. You're the only one punishing you here."
He shuffles over to the bed, perches gingerly on the edge of the mattress.
"I am sorry that I didn't tell you."
"I am a little upset at the part." He's too far away to touch but she reaches out an arm, scratches her fingernails on the comforter to get his attention. He hesitantly stretches his hand towards hers and their fingers barely connect, just the tips tangling together but it's a start. "You know I would have come with you, right?"
"I actually thought you'd try to talk me out of it."
"Talk you out of saving your daughter? Why would I ever do that? Castle, would you have talked me out of going to L.A. to solve Royce's murder?"
"I followed you."
"That's exactly my point. I would have done the same but you didn't even give me the opportunity."
He sets his jaw, the hard line of bone working under his skin. He adjusts his sitting position, bringing a leg up on the bed and scooting closer to her, fully embracing her fingers between his. "Kate, I don't wanna fight but-" he stops himself and she holds her breath, afraid of what he's going to say but knowing that he needs to say it. So she lets him. "How many times have you shut me out and ran off half-cocked against a dangerous enemy?"
Her anger flares, her fingers tightening in his, sub-consciously trying to hurt him. Because how dare he? She's a cop, it's her job. He doesn't need to be a part of that, that's not what he signed up for.
Oh. That's how he sees this. He's a father, it's his job. Just because they're in this, doesn't mean that she signed up for saving his kid. Except that she did. She signed up for everything. She knew he was a package deal.
He watches the heat flare in her eyes, gives her a minute to be indignant. He's grateful that she's not yelling yet at least. But then her fingers yield their iron grip and he flexes his a moment before engulfing her hand in his again.
"I'm sorry," she offers. It's not enough, it's not what she means to say but she doesn't know how to begin defending her actions without sounding like a selfish hypocrite. "I'm sorry I did that to you."
"I'm sorry, too." He slides even closer to her, only enough to raise their hands to his lips and brush a kiss against her knuckles.
"But-" Now she stops and he waits, knowing she needs to say this. "I'm not trying to excuse my actions but when I did it, we weren't this, we weren't here. You didn't even call from the airport or when you landed. You shut me out when I thought we were better than that now."
His anger flares now but he can't handle it quietly. "After only the second night we spent together, I woke up to a cold bed. I had no idea where you were and only a vague idea of what you might be doing. You didn't even leave me a note."
She has no recourse for that. "We need to be better at this," she whispers, dropping her eyes.
"Yeah," he agrees but offers no suggestions.
The other thing that's on her mind starts niggling at her. But it's not the time.
He's quiet a beat too long and she feels the words crawling up her throat, the ones that she's been thinking but has been too afraid to ask. When he still says nothing, they make their escape.
"Why don't you tell me you love me anymore?"
He startles, jostling the bed and when she raises her eyes to him, his are wide, shocked.
"What?" is all he manages to breathe.
The words come flowing out now, a speech she's been preparing. "We don't trust each other enough. I didn't trust you to not stop me from going after Bracken, you didn't trust me enough to tell me that you were going to get your daughter back. You don't trust me not to run away if you say those words to me again. Do you realize that you've only said them under duress? When I was dying, when you thought I was going to get myself killed. They're a last defense for you. You're afraid that if you use them in a quiet moment, I'll make my escape."
She pauses to take a deep breath, tries to take the words in with the air, diffuse them back into her blood so they'll stop spilling from her lips. She can see him thinking, see him forming a reply. But there's one other thing he needs to know. She skips to the end of her speech. "They've always done the opposite for me. They're what I held onto when I passed out at Montgomery's funeral, what I clung to when I woke up in the hospital, what held me up while I recovered. They're what made me walk away from the biggest break in my mom's case. Because I knew that if I didn't, I'd never hear them again. And I haven't. Why?" Her voice gives out on the last word, cleaves it in two. Her vision is swimming in unshed tears but she keeps her eyes on him; she isn't backing down from this.
"Because you're right. I didn't want to scare you away. I'm not overly proud of the times that I've said it and I thought that saying it again would only bring up those memories. But if you want to hear it…" he trails off, hope and love beaming from his eyes.
She pushes off from the headboard and he meets her in the middle of the bed. His arms wrap around her waist, her hands cradle his face. "I wanted to hear it after I found another woman straddling you in your apartment. I wanted to hear it after I gave you the drawer. I wanted to hear it every time I heard your voice over the phone the last few days. And I want to hear it right now."
His arms tighten around her, his forehead comes to rest against hers for a moment. He breathes relief against her lips before he pulls back to look at her. "I love you, Kate. I love you so much and I will tell you as many times as you want to hear it. I'll probably even tell you when you don't want to hear it."
She laughs at that, a choked sound that has to compete with the tears that are now falling freely. He kisses them off her cheeks and her eyelids flutter shut at the reverent sensation. His lips find hers and he kisses her softly, once, twice, before she pulls away. She splays her hand against his cheek, runs her fingers through his hair.
"Castle, I love you, too."
"Oh, I could stand to hear that again."
Her face splits open in a luminous smile and she presses her joy into his mouth, sharing it with him. "I love you," she says again, her lips brushing his as they form the words.
I'd love you know what you think.
AN: My first post-ep, whoooooo! I didn't intend for it to be this fluffy or lead to an ILY but, uh, it did.