Skip the Charades

I'm two left feet when I'm home

We tap-dance on broken glass

Somehow you manage

To keep your sense of humor intact

"Skip the Charades," Cold War Kids

His heart fluttered as the key jiggled in the lock, turned by a hand that sounded hesitant, unused to the shape of things. Castle thought of dashing back to his study, where he'd affect a cool nonchalance, but it was already too late to make it, and he'd be out of breath, and she just might open the door in the middle of it and find him running-

No. He'd just stay right here. Waiting. No. Also not good. She hated his puppy-like attention. So. . .the couch. Castle quick-stepped across the foyer, plopped down on the couch, tried to settle as the door swung open.

And of course, he couldn't pull it off, not with his heart pounding and his palms sweaty. He heard the sound of her shoes and stood up, turning to look, needing to look, needing just the sight of her.

Beckett wasn't smiling, but she didn't look as harassed as he expected, it being so late now. His heart thumped as the detective cleared the entry and caught sight of him in the darkness.

"Castle." Her voice was a query, rough and overused from a full day at the station.

He caught the wince on her face as she stepped out of her shoes, but he knew better than to ask. Flats, of course. Her hair was pulled back off her face, the same loose bun she'd had this morning, but since she'd kept it shorter recently, sometimes it'd be in waves just below her chin by the end of the day. Most of her make-up was gone; she tugged the sleeves of her coat and let it drop from her shoulders.

Beckett looked worn out.

"Kate," he breathed, and he felt like it was the first deep breath he'd had all day.

With his greeting, Detective Beckett seemed to melt before his eyes. And then Kate looked at him as she dropped her stuff on top of her shoes, her fingers uncurling from her keyring and letting it fall. "Nothing new, Castle," she said with sigh.

"Anything old?" he asked, and he heard the childish desperation in his voice.

"Ryan's gonna call you about the wedding," she offered, giving a lift of her mouth like it might be a smile. "Esposito is claiming dibs on best man."

He grinned back, letting loose the smile he'd wanted to smile when he first saw her, able to leak out his desperate joy because she'd offered it first, tentative and worn out as it was. "We'll see about that."

Castle waited for her to drape her coat over the back of the chair before he stepped forward, still dressed in his jeans and button-down shirt from earlier in the day, like he'd be called into the station at any time.

But, of course, he wouldn't.

Still he got to touch the elephant skin at her elbows with the tips of his fingers and grin at her as she stepped in closer to him. Her chest rose and fell on a shaky breath but she stayed.

Castle shuffled into her space and wrapped his arms around her back, pressing her into him slowly, being mindful of the scar tissue and the weak muscles and the long day on her feet. Kate slid her arms around his waist on a sigh, leaning her forehead into his neck for a heartbeat, then pulling back to look at him.

"Did you write?"

He shrugged. "Some."

"Did you. . .see Alexis?" she asked, and his heart curled up at the hope in her voice.

"I did," he said, swallowing hard and hoping she didn't see it in his eyes.

Kate's eyes tracked his down, narrowing at what she saw there, and she stepped back. "I should go home."

"No," he said forcefully, hanging on to her, not letting her back away again. "You just got here."

She shivered; he could feel her skin crawl under his fingers. "I don't want to be in the way."

"You're not. You're never in the way, Kate Beckett," he whispered, his desperation nearly overwhelming. Castle followed as she stepped back again, his hands in fists at her back and hip, trying not to hurt her with the force of his impatience for her. "She wore your platform shoes out tonight. She looked. . .too old for my taste."

The flicker of a smile graced her face, long enough to ease his the fist around his heart.

"She's nearly a college co-ed, Castle," Kate said softly, and he could see her allow herself a little closer.

"Never," Castle shivered for effect. "Co-eds are on Girls Gone Wild. Over my dead body."

The grin dropped off Kate's face just like that. Castle could kick himself for it but instead he plowed on, ignoring the swing of her mood.

"You can give my daughter anything you like, Kate. She had fun tonight. She'd never buy herself something like that, but she liked them a lot."

Kate nodded back at him, but her hands were loose on his waist now.

He took fate by the horns. "Did you keep any of your heels?"

The startled look on her face was quickly replaced with blank regard. "A few. The more expensive ones. The ones I loved."

Past tense. Castle felt his throat close and refused to acknowledge it. "Not long now."

"Maybe so."

He knew that she expected never to be rid of the lingering pain in her abdomen. He knew that in her darkest moments, she expected to be dead before she got the chance to wear them again.

So heels were out of the question for now. Quick movements side to side were difficult; she'd been cleared for active duty only by the grace of God, and perhaps by the murderous glint in her eyes when she'd confronted her primary care physician at last month's physical.

Castle wasn't entirely happy with it, since he wasn't there to act as her partner these days. But he couldn't say anything about it.

"What'd you make for dinner?" she said, changing the subject and stepping back.

Connection broken, Castle let her go. His time was over, it seemed; hers had begun.

"Turkey burgers. Macaroni salad. Watermelon. It's a Castle tradition: Memorial Day in January."

He got a smile for that, a backward-thrown flash of amusement as she headed for the kitchen. Castle glance up toward the second floor as he followed Kate, but Alexis's door was firmly shut. She probably had her earbuds in; she wouldn't come down for the rest of the night, he knew.

"Why is that?" Kate asked. It seemed she was allowing him to distract her tonight.

"When Alexis was little, after one Christmas she asked me when the next holiday was. Day after day for weeks. I guess it was the first Christmas she really remembered, and she wanted another one. Finally sometime in late January, I got tired of trying to explain, so I made a Memorial Day picnic. Got her a little gift. Can't remember what. Probably shoes, actually. She was in love with shoes when she was that small. The sparklier, the better."

Kate smiled as she dug through the fridge. It eased his heart that she knew exactly where to look, pulling out the containers one by one. Castle got down a plate and began opening things up. Kate assembled her burger and stuck it in the microwave, then put her back against the counter with a barely suppressed sigh of relief. A long day *and* a suspect chase, then. If she was in this much pain late at night.

He wouldn't ask. But he wished he could. "Ever since then, we made up our own holiday in January because it's just too long a time before the next one gets here. Of course, it's just sorta degenerated to putting stuff on the grill."

"You grilled this?" she asked, her eyes flickering to the microwave as it dinged.

"On the George Foreman. I cheated," he admitted, flashing her another smile as she pulled her burger out, steaming.

"Not cheating. You still had to make it," she answered, already cutting a thin slice of cheddar from the block of cheese. "What did you soak it in? I can smell it."

"Smell good?"

"Heavenly," she admitted and gave him a smile back that made everything worth it. Her face was practically alight. He wanted to keep it like that forever.

Castle cleared his throat. "Assortment of stuff. I kind of throw stuff in. Steak sauce. Kentucky bourbon. Some rosemary. Soaked it overnight."

"You made this last night? When?" Kate shot him a look, crushing lettuce and tomato and the top of the bun onto the burger with a palm. Even that caused pain, apparently, because Castle saw it shimmer in her eyes.

"When I was waiting for you to get here." And then wondered if he should not have admitted it.

She moved past it though, dished out macaroni salad and watermelon in portions on her plate. He watched, then brushed her aside to put everything back so she could get started on eating her late dinner.

Very late. After midnight already. And when had she gotten lunch?

Castle slid a glance over at her and figured she probably hadn't eaten lunch either. Worked right through it, as usual. Some things never changed.

At least he'd managed to get a bear claw and coffee in her this morning.

Kate took her plate to the bar and studied the stool for a beat. Castle saw it all in her face, hated that she scrambled to hide it, but knew better than to comment when she grabbed her plate and moved towards the table.

Couldn't get up on the stool, then. She had to really be worn out tonight. He'd seen her hesitate earlier in the day, but get up without much of a problem.

He wanted to ask, but he couldn't. This was such a delicate balance between them. After his fight with Josh that led to *her* fight with Josh. After his fight with Alexis that led to this not-so-clandestine meeting every night. After Kate's fight with the new Captain that led to *his* fight with the new Captain. . .

After everything, he still couldn't ask. After holding her head in the green grass of a cemetery that nearly became the green grass where she died. After desperately holding in her blood, only to have it slip through his fingers. After blurting out his feelings to her in the too-bright sun, bleeding his panic and grief all over her. . .

And he still couldn't ask.

"Water or milk?" he asked instead, his hand on the fridge.

"Beer?"

"Milk it is," he said, and opened the fridge door.

"Castle." But she sighed with resignation as she said it.

He loved her. He loved her and he wished to heaven she knew it.

He wished she'd let him say it all over again; this time, he'd get it right.