Summary: Castle and Beckett go on a date to keep some pre-wedding legacies alive. Set at around the end of season 6. One chapter a day, every day, for 6 days.

A/N: It's a dream of mine to see Caskett go out on a date. While we wait impatiently for that day to come, here's my (slightly sappy) version of a special one to tide us over. Let the good times roll! Please do review.

March 09, 2014

xxx

It's been a hard day's night and I've been working like a dog

It's been a hard day's night; I should be sleeping like a log

But when I get home to you, I find the things that you do

Will make me feel alright

When I'm home, everything seems to be right

When I'm home, feeling you holding me tight

xxx

She locks the door behind her as quietly as she can, drops her coat on the couch and just sinks down, sheer exhaustion overcoming her. A quick glance around confirms her suspicions. He waited up for her. The house is dark except for a thin film of light emanating from under the door of the study. Sighing, she glances at her watch. It's 12.30 am, a Saturday night for her, Sunday morning for the rest of the world. It's been this way for the fifth night in a row. She's told him not to stay up for her; he says he likes the silence. Castle liking silence? Imagine that. Sluggishly, she walks towards the welcoming, familiar glow, careful not to make a sound.

"Hey Writer Boy, how's the new book coming along?"

"Kate!" He swivels in his chair at once, almost running into her embrace. She's caught unaware by the smile that sweeps across her face like thunder just at the sight of him. He smells like he just took a shower, the heat seeping up her numbed nerves. A few drops of warm water course down the veins of his neck. He hasn't shaved recently; slight stubble is beginning to show across his rugged features. There, in his arms, she feels comfortable and safe; finally home after a long, hard day.

"You're home! I thought you decided to crash the precinct couch tonight."

Scrunching up her nose, she says "Not tonight, I'm afraid. I heard rats squeaking. You seem awfully excited! What's up?"

"I was just going through some old case notes on my laptop and look what I found!" he exclaims, dragging her towards his computer screen. A few screens spur to life and the words she sees zap the fatigue right out of her.

Flowers For Your Grave.

It hits her then- the magnanimity of this moment. She turns to face his twinkling eyes for a fraction of a second before her lips fly to his, unable to resist even an iota of space between them. Her hands link around his neck as he kisses her back, pulling her towards him by her waist. When they pull away, he holds her palm in his and gently whispers, "Six years ago today, when I first saw you, all I wanted was to have you in my arms. I had no idea back then how much it would mean to me to have you here with me right now."

xxx

"We're at the top of the world,

You and I

We've got a lot of time,

And it sure feels right.

You reached in your pocket

And pulled out a pass that said:

You can take me anywhere"

xxx

"I can't believe we're getting married in two months. It's just….wow," she mutters.

Five minutes of catching up on the couch turn into a toast to celebrate their journey. The two wine glasses stand empty on the table, their contents having long since disappeared, just like her weariness. Her eyes are alert and glistening in the quiet luminescence of the loft. She runs her graceful fingers across his jaw, playfully gliding towards his cheeks, the gesture not going unnoticed under his watchful gaze.

"It's the stubble, isn't it? You like it, don't you? Admit it Beckett. You could never resist my stubble. Not six years ago and not now. You can't deny it."

"Fine, I'll admit it. But on one condition."

"Name it."

"Go out with me on Saturday night."

"Are you asking me out?"

"It just seems like such a long time since we just went out on a proper date. You've been cooped up alone all the time writing and I've been busy with the wedding planning and my case and-"

"Kate. Done. We're going out next Saturday. I'll handle the reservations. And not just Remy's. We're going to a proper, fancy restaurant and we're going to put on nice clothes and you are going to look beautiful."

"Good. Because this isn't any ordinary date. It's the pre-wedding dinner."

"A what now?"

"It's a Beckett tradition."

"Really? Do tell."

"Ya. My mom and dad got married pretty soon in relationship years. Before the wedding, my mom was a little scared. But then he surprised her on her birthday with dinner at her favorite restaurant and they talked, just like old times and he swore they never had jitters after that. My dad has a photo of them from that night on his nightstand to this day. My mom always said it was the best night of her life, the night she knew her marriage would last forever."

Forever. The weight of the word hangs heavily over the room, neither of them able to speak. All these years and she still feels the loss like it was yesterday. He can sense her emotion welling up but he can't think of anything to say that would offer even a glimmer of comfort. Swerve! His mind screams.

"So then I guess we have to observe the Castle tradition as well."

"The Castles have a wedding tradition? I'm intrigued."

"It's the pre-wedding gift."

"I should've guessed."

"Hear me out first."

"Ok go ahead then."

"It's not really a Castle tradition, more of a Rodgers one. My mother's family, they were all huge on the gift-giving. For people with such big hearts, they didn't really appreciate her leaving home to become an actress. All throughout my childhood she told me stories about them. I could tell she missed them, she still does."

"Awww Castle. That must be hard for her. And you."

"So….point is… I talked to Meredith and we decided to incorporate the custom. Only, the jeweler screwed up and Meredith ended up with a 'Meredith and Rickard' locket."

"Oh my God, Castle! How'd that work out for you?" she says as her laughter fills the room.

"Boy, she didn't let me live that one down. It was the longest running gag ever."

"But what did she give you…or is the bride not supposed to bring a gift?"

"Oh nah. Everybody gets to bring a gift. Meredith gave me a really old bottle of scotch, which ironically proved to be very useful during our married existence. Anyways, with Gina, it didn't work out well either. I was too scared to try anything bold and she just thought it was a stupid thing to do. But with you, I want to. With you, I know we can break the curse, I know we can relive this tradition and make it magical." He makes a swooshing sound as if he actually believes it was magic working its hand and she smiles at his silly delight.

"But Castle, neither of those two marriages ended happily. You still think it's an apt tradition?"

"I know it didn't work out with Meredith or Gina but it takes two to break a marriage. I was there too. Part of the responsibility was mine. And believe you me, Kate I want to make our marriage work. I want to pester you with my nonsensical chatter till we're sixty and wear dentures. And it all starts here. And maybe if I just manage to get the beginning right, then…maybe…we might just make it."

She sees his sincerity, the slightly bruised but still shining hope in his eyes, and his heart.

"But just look at us; we're living this wonderful life and we're going to get there soon enough-teeth rattling on a cold verandah, rummaging around for our glasses. I don't doubt it for a second. And this is just step one. And if there's even a chance that following these traditions is a good omen, then I think we owe it to ourselves to take it."

"So Beckett, you up to the challenge of finding the perfect gift?" he replies, touched by her earnest words, infused by a new sense of hope and love and destiny.

"I don't know Rickard, are you?"

"Touché," he breathes into her ear, rising up from the couch, scooping her up and carrying her to bed as she feigns squirming.

xxx