Disclaimer: I tried to buy them out in a handshake deal, but it fell apart when I figured shaking AWM's hand would now be weird.

A/N: I'm not one for post-eps, either reading or writing them, typically, so I haven't seen yet if anyone has tackled this. One small spoiler for anyone who has somehow seen 5x03 but didn't see the preview at the end for 5x04. Written in one big burst during my lunch break, so apologies for all typos and the like.

"So, are we going to be talking entirely in euphemisms now?" Kate asked, as she rolled onto her back and tucked the sheets around herself. Her breath was coming back to her, quickly. Thank goodness for cardio.

Castle, equally out of breath, but lying on his stomach, tucked a pillow under his head so he could lean up and see her better. "What do you mean?"

"First your little handshake thing, and now ... that was a lot of things we just did, and none of them was talking."

"I thought you liked our 'conversation.'"

"Ugh, I can hear your air quotes when you talk."

"It's been two days where my palm is the only thing that's gotten action. I couldn't wait."

"Castle!"

"I meant that handshake, earlier."

"Oh," Kate said. She rolled over so that her hand could reach his back, trail a line with her finger down his spine. "So do you want to talk now?"

"About?"

"Come on. You barely even reacted to all of Martha's 'I know what you are about to do' comments."

"What about you? I thought she'd get more of a rise out of you."

Kate shrugged. "Maybe. I assumed I better get used to it."

"Yeah, you never really do."

"But it's nice to have one spot where we don't have to hide. However, you're avoiding the question."

"Which was?"

"Something's got you preoccupied."

He went to dodge the question again, but he remembered her opening up to him, earlier. "Just wondering what I am, now."

"What you are?"

"I'm not a Dad anymore, Kate."

"You'll always be her Dad, Castle. I'm thirty-two and I still need my Dad."

"I'll always be her father, but my days of being 'Dad' are over."

"For now."

He rolled onto his side, shocked by her quiet words. He could tell, immediately, that she hadn't intended to say them, that they'd just slipped out. Kate Beckett often reminded him of a wild stallion, how you had to earn her trust without trying to break her spirit. This seemed like one of those moments to back off.

"You know," he said, letting her comment slide, "when things started to get really bad with Meredith, I always took solace in the fact that I'd still be a really good Dad. Same with Gina, or when a book wouldn't sell at first, or the reviews sucked or Page 6 got really vicious. It was always just the two of us, Alexis and me, and that was what kept me grounded."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I said grounded. So you can imagine what things would've been like without her. I taught her to walk and to talk, got her through the bike riding and the first days of school. Teaching her to read, working through the first time she was teased at school, first crush, first date. I made sure I was always there for all the firsts. Being her Dad, that was always the most important thing." He took a deep breath. "I don't want to be one of those guys that takes up golf because he doesn't know what to do with himself."

"You'd be horrible at golf."

"I'm not quite as bad at physical activities as you seem to think."

She rather deliberately looked down at their entwined bodies. "No, you aren't at all. I just meant you'd get bored around the fourth hole."

He chuckled. "Yeah, you might be giving me three holes too much credit."

"Your life is pretty busy. You have a lot of books left to write. I know there's a box back at my place you'll want to go through. And quite a few handshakes left to have."

"That little idea of mine might have backfired. I'm not going to be able to get through my next glad-handing event without giggling."

"Yeah, me either," she said, joining in his laugh.

He shook his head. "But I don't want... I can't just end up using you as my crutch either."

Kate kissed his shoulder in the valley above his clavicle. "I feel like we've had this conversation before. This summer."

He nodded. "You're more than just a cop."

"And more than just Mom's case, and more than this relationship. More than any one thing."

He smiled. "And I'm more than just a Dad?"

"Something like that."

"Is that the answer, really?"

"It's living with the question, anyway."

"We're more than the sum of our parts, because the parts always change," he said. It didn't quite feel like the answer, but at least it felt like it was in the right direction. At least he felt better for the first time in hours.

"Maybe a change would be good. Get away from the city for a few days on the long weekend. We're not on call. Have some uninterrupted time, free from bodies and hiding and knowing looks. Dad's not using the cabin at the moment."

He slid his arm around her waist and rolled onto his back, pulling her into his side. She tucked into him, letting her head rest on his chest.

"I have a better idea, I think, if you're game."

"And what is that?"

"I've asked before, but maybe this time you'll say yes..."

There was a short intake of breath before she relaxed. "The Hamptons?"

"Pool is still there. Still wouldn't mind getting you in a swimsuit."

She slid her hand down his chest, over his hip and thigh, to remind him they were both naked.

"Or skinny-dipping," he said, after a second.

She tightened her body around his, and slid upwards in a way that seemed to signal both assent and the end of the conversation.