A/N: I'm supposed to be writing either my NaNo novel or the next chapter of Crossroads, but this came out instead. It's just how my brain works sometimes, no idea why.

This is a One Shot stemming from the lovely episode 4x07, Cops and Robbers. The beginning is loosely connected to the actual ep, the rest is simply my imagination. It's related to Sondheim's beautiful song "Being Alive", but it's not exactly a song fic. Just read it yourself to find out. Write me a review if you liked it or want me to continue or maybe add something, up the rating…

I hope you'll enjoy it!
Much Love,
Lina

Being Alive

Somebody, hold me too close,

Somebody, hurt me too deep,

Somebody, sit in my chair,

And ruin my sleep.

And make me aware

Of being alive,

Being alive.

Kate had lost so much in her life. She'd lost her mother, and with her the naive optimism, the youthful tendency to look at the bright side of life. She'd lost her Captain and with him, her ability to trust. She'd almost lost her father to the bottle, almost herself to the dark side of this city, so often that she'd lost count. Now she'd almost lost Castle. Not for the first time, no. She remembered his icy body in the freezer and the guns pointed at his head and the bombs only seconds from exploding in front of him, like all of that had only just happened yesterday. It had all hurt her, it had all scared her, but none of it had shattered her quite as completely as the incidents today.

Nothing had been as earthshattering as that second when she'd been in the van, on the phone with Ryan and Esposito, and the world had suddenly rumbled, trembled, exploded around her, as that heartstopping sound of crumbling concrete and screaming people, as that minute of not knowing whether he was alive or dead.

She didn't remember much of those moments - her heart had skipped a beat, then raced on, her blood rushing in her ears, her mind filled with tiny bits of everything and lots and lots of nothing.

Images of torn skin, of cracked bones and bloodied limbs, of brain matter and destruction, of lifeless eyes and unmanagable pain had flooded her head, unbidden, and paralyzed her.

Then she'd raced, raced against the clock, against desperation, against hopelessness, and she'd run into the ruins of the bank, not wanting to stay behind, not able to slow down until she'd found him, heard him, seen him with her own eyes. Relief had filled every inch of her, had beamed out of her gaze and manifested itself in a smile as radiant as that of a woman walking down the aisle on her wedding day.

"Are you okay?" she'd asked, breathlessly, and had reached out to touch him, any part of him, needing to assure herself that he was there, settling on his collar because it didn't seem as unappropriate as her other options. She'd wanted to kiss him. Had wanted to hug him and never let go. She'd settled on his collar, saving away those other things for later.

Now was later.

They'd saved a boy's life, a woman's life, their own life - It was time.

"Even as a hostage I help you solve murders" he commented proudly from his chair by her desk, and she hid her smile behind her joined hands. "Beckett, I think… I think you have the perfect partner" he added and pretended to tear up. She didn't try to hide that smile anymore. She showed it to him, lifted her head from behind those folded hands and giggled. Yes, giggled.

"Yeah except he doesn't like doing paperwork" she joked and now it was him who brought his hand to his mouth, a mixture between thinking and trying to keep his grin in check.

"Touché."

"So…" she started, knowing that it was now or never if she ever wanted to take control of their situation. "Old Haunt? I'll buy you a drink" she offered, lifted her eyebrows and pressed her lips together, attempting to look casual.

"No…" he answered and she blinked, but then he continued and she smiled widely.

"…But I'll do you one better."

Somebody, need me too much,

Somebody, know me too well,

Somebody, pull me up short

And put me through hell.

And give me support

For being alive,

Make me alive.

Martha greeted her with a hug so enthusiastic that they swiveled around, making a full turn before she was released. Kate didn't even have time to respond before she was led to the kitchen, a pompous meal laid out on the dining table. Rick left to get Alexis, returned after a couple of minutes, and she stood up to hand him the glass of wine Martha had poured for them.

"Ahh, thank you!" he said and took it from her. She'd let her hair down on the way over, had secured a portion with a pin on the back of her head, had unbuttoned the first button on her shirt. She had nothing to hide. She didn't need to anymore, so she smiled freely, using her eyes and her cheeks and her mouth to show him how she was feeling.

"And I didn't get a chance to properly thank you for saving my life" he added, but she waved it off.

"Oh there's no need, Castle, we're partners. It's what we do" she said, because it was the truth. She wasn't chickening out of the moment, not at all. But saving him and all those people in the bank had had nothing to do with what she felt for him. They were partners, just like Ryan and Esposito were partners, and she'd risk everything to save him, any day.

"Yes" he agreed and raised his glass. "Some of us more than others, of course" he mumbled and she drew her hand away just before they could clink glasses.

"Wait."
Her mouth fell open and her eyes narrowed.
"What is that supposed to mean?"

He looked at her as if it was the most natural thing to say.

"Only that this is the eighth time you've saved my life and I saved your life nine times" he explained, gesturing with his wine glass, the dark liquid swirling around.

"Okay, first of all…" she shook her head, but couldn't keep from smiling.

"I can't even believe that you're keeping score and secondly, there is no way that you saved my life more than I have yours. Nine? Please!" she laughed and turned around, at ease in Rick's home, in Rick's presence. He kept talking, listing all the times he had saved her life as they made their way over to the table, where Alexis and Martha were already waiting for them.

Somebody, crowd me with love,

Somebody, force me to care,

Somebody, make me come through,

I'll always be there,

As frightened as you,

To help us survive

Being alive.

Dinner with his family was delightful, as always. The red wine tasted delicious, the conversation ran smoothly, the smiles on each of their faces were genuine and honest. It was more than just the relief of being alive that brought them together, it was this sense of belonging, of comfortably being at home in the loft.

When his mother and daughter made themselves scarce around midnight, Kate felt herself actually missing them for a second. She cared about the Castle women, enjoyed being around them, liked their voices, their laughter.

When Rick softly touched her shoulder and led her to the living room, though, she quickly kissed all thoughts about his family goodbye.

Half an hour later they found themselves curled up on his couch, the wine glasses empty on the coffee table in front of them, Rick's jacket hanging across the armrest, the first two buttons undone on his blue shirt. They were facing each other, leaning against the back of the cozy warm couch, their legs slightly tucked beneath their bodies, Kate's tired head propped up by her arm.

Their faces were close, their knees even closer, and every time he laughed, she could feel his breath wash over her skin.

It reminded her of the hotel room in LA, of Rick's little admiration speech that she still remembered word for word, of how close she had come to starting something she wouldn't have wanted to stop, ever. This time, there would be no doors to hide behind, to close then open then close again, Kate promised herself.

"Rick" she said softly, her voice low and pure, when he had finished his story about a 9th grade camping trip and was just about to start the next adventure. He immediately stopped and changed his demeanor, transforming in under two seconds from charming and comfortably entertaining to serious, almost concerned, but with a hint of hope in his expression. He could probably tell from the friendly warm glimmer in her eyes that whatever she was going to say would most likely be to his advantage.

"I'm so glad you're alive" she whispered and surprised both of them by linking their hands on the couch space between their legs.

"Me too" he smiled and tightened his fingers around hers. He didn't want to push, but who knew when he'd next get the chance to hold Kate Beckett's hand…

"I think… I think we brought down some walls today" she admitted softly. "Both kind" she added, to assure him that she wasn't playing with him, wasn't just referring to the bank, but in fact to those figurative walls that kept her heart protected and hidden away.

"Yeah?" he muttered, not quite believing, not quite trusting her sudden change of mind. "How much stone do you think is left?" he asked, tentatively, and she didn't answer right away, ran her thumb across his knuckles, pulled him a tiny bit closer and arched her head up until their mouths were mere centimeters apart.

"Not enough to hold me back anymore" she said quietly, and their noses brushed.

"Not enough" she murmured just before her lips softly touched his, the distance between their bodies slowly reducing as she leaned into him, pressed closer, the hand that wasn't linked with his coming up to his neck, gentle but insistent.

She could feel his breathing stop, his body tense, could pinpoint the exact moment when he relaxed into her and responded to her kiss. It was soft, unhurried, despite all the tension that had led up to this moment. It was a quiet and breathy testament to something they'd both known for a while, a physical expression of the bond that connected them always.

She slowly pulled away, his head following to keep their lips connected, his hand rising almost hesitantly to her shoulder. Finally he let her go, not daring to push the kiss any further, to part her lips like he wanted to, to tug her over until she was straddling him. She languidly opened her eyes.

"Kate" he whispered and she rested her forehead against his, needing to avert her gaze so she would not have to look into those baby blues. He could feel her trying to regain her breath, could sense her gathering her strength in the way her hand curled around the back of his neck.

"I don't want to wait anymore" she professed and his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "I don't want you to wait anymore" she whispered, and her nose caressed his for a second, their lips met briefly. "If you had died today..."

She didn't finish the sentence, couldn't finish it. All joy vanished from her face as she recalled those moments of fear, tried to push the thoughts away of what she might be doing right now if he had exploded along with that bank, if he had died and she'd be left...

He sensed her distress, knew that he had no answers either, so he squeezed her hand and looked firmly, reassuringly, into her scared eyes.

"We're alive" he whispered and the shadow of a smile crossed her face, hinted at the corner of her mouth.
"We're alive" he repeated and dipped his head, stopping shortly to give her an out if she wanted it, their upper lips already brushing.

She flew to him, clung to him, her kiss hard, her taste heady. Her whole body arched up on the couch, he gripped her tightly, pulling her down, Kate rising to her knees to scoot closer into his lap. His mouth opened under the pressure of her lips and fireworks exploded behind his eyelids when her tongue connected with his. He ran his hand up and down her back, tearing at the fabric of her grey shirt, slipping underneath it and caressing her naked skin for the first time. She moaned, like that quiet little moan she'd done during their undercover kiss, but better. Their impromptu rescue plan had been nothing compared to this, compared to her hot wet mouth urging him on, her strong thigh pressed between his, her arched back beneath his hand, skin to bare skin. She bit his lip, he groaned, she mewled, ground against him, rubbed against him...

He ripped his mouth away from hers, snatched his hand away from beneath her shirt, as if burned, gaped at her with wide eyes, opened in shock, clouded from arousal, dark and lusting and passionate.

"We shouldn't" he started, but found that he was out of breath. She let go of his neck, retreated her arm, pulled back from his body, his warmth, his touch. "I mean...we don't...ha...too soon...no rush...hhh..." he panted and her eyes widened, the situation suddenly crashing down on her, and she sagged against the back of the couch, slipping her knee out of the sinful grasp of his thighs and averting her eyes.

"Yeah" she admitted, equally out of air, her heart pumping blood with a drummer's fast rhythm through her trembling body. She let her head fall into her open palms, hiding from the world.

She wanted him. Wanted and needed and loved him so much.

But no, no. There was no rush. They would not ruin this with a quick roll in the sheets. Or on his couch for that matter. No, not after waiting all this time. Oh, how stupid she'd been to kiss him like that! How hurtful it would be to go back to their normal, now that his taste lay on her tongue, now that his warmth lingered on her skin. This was Richard Castle, her partner, her friend. They couldn't just jump into bed because some idiot had blown up a bank, couldn't throw away everything they were for some nightly satisfaction.

"Yeah" she said again, letting her head roll back, leaning it against the back of the couch. Her hair flowed in thick waves across the piece of furniture, the small pin that had held part of her tousled curls back having fallen to the floor, long forgotten.

She opened her eyes when she felt him brush his fingers against her cheek, across the nape of her neck, lace them into her hair, pulling her head up from the backrest.
They couldn't go back to normal.
They wouldn't go back to normal.

He wriggled closer on the couch until their sides were pressed together again, then touched his lips to hers, once, their gazes locked, neither of them blinking, twice, her barely slowed down heart speeding up again, three times and her eyelids fluttered shut. She kissed back, keeping it soft, gentle, a lovely caress, more like the first kiss than the second. Or the second, not the third, if one counted the undercover kiss. It didn't matter.

It simply didn't matter anymore.

Her mother's ring dangled between her breasts, because she'd felt like wearing it again after she'd been shot. It slowly helped mending those scars, just like Castle did. Her father's watch was clasped around her wrist, proof to her that she hadn't lost him, that he was still here. Her Captain's picture stood strongly on her bedroom drawer, because she refused to put it away, because he'd sacrificed himself for her and that almost made good for breaking her trust. The bullet wound on her chest had healed, the scar pale and thin, showing how strong she was, how lucky she'd been. And Castle was here. Rick. Kissing her.

They had survived. They were both okay, and out of this terrible day had come something good, something strong and new and highly anticipated and good. She was scared as hell, but they were alive.

Kate deepened the kiss, pushed upwards, tugged him closer, nipped softly at his lip, her hands curled into his blue shirt. He smiled against her lips.

They were alive.