Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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Kate Beckett had always had a post-case stress-reliever regime.

It involved a hot cocoa, a hot shower and lame tv reruns - it didn't matter which show - just so long that she didn't need to think and she could just sit back and enjoy.

Sliding her key into the lock, she entered the hallway of her home, keen on wiping from her existence any reminder of the case she'd just closed.

Inhaling the smell of cooking from the kitchen, Kate dropped her coat and bag in the front room.

Rising, she's greeted with a sight she's be waiting for all day: heading toward her was Rick Castle with a glass of red wine and their sound asleep child on his shoulder.

Transferring both to her waiting arms, Rick backed away to return to the kitchen.

Sure, the red wine wasn't her hot cocoa, the warm sleeping child resting on her chest wasn't a hot shower, and Rick Castle's conversation wasn't quite television re-runs, but she found the stress quickly leaving her body as she lounged back on her dining chair, dinner eaten, her wine glass almost empty as she turns her tired eyes to the person who had somehow weaved himself into her life and become such a vital part of it.

Talking in low tones, they discussed their day and other mundane things to pass the time in the still house.

Nodding her head at Rick's unanswered question for a glass fill-up, Kate drops her head to kiss her son's hair, breathing in his baby smell, stress now gone.

This was her life.