A/N: Whoops, some of you asked for a part two, so I decided to see if I could come up with something little. Thanks Emily and Steph for reading it over xx


Kate paces in the kitchen, her nail of her index finger pressed between her front teeth, until she remembers that she painted them, so she quickly takes it out, checking for any dents. She runs her hands down her dress, smoothing the non-existent wrinkles, making sure her outfit is still okay. The dress is simple, black, stops just above her knees, and scoops low at her neck - casual but classy. She's nervous, god, she's so nervous, and she forces herself to stop pacing by placing both hands on her kitchen counter, fingers gripping the surface as she takes deep breaths in and out.

She messaged him at six, told him to pick her up instead, but she has a surprise. She's cooked him dinner, at her place, the table set up decoratively and two candles lit. Hopefully not too romantic, but definitely suggesting more than a casual dinner with friends.

Stupid idea, she thinks, because now she has to not only worry about talking, explaining, to Castle, but has to worry about cooking, about whether he is enjoying what she's made. But she needed the privacy, and the comfort that comes with her place, hopefully it will give her confidence to tell him exactly what he needs to hear.

6:59 and she can hear him walking to her door, and she checks the oven one more time, her pasta bake only needing about ten more minutes. She closes her eyes, inhales, trying to calm her nerves with the flow of oxygen.

He knocks, strong and sharp, and the calming did not help, her heart has gone haywire, and she forces her weak legs to move so she can let him in.

She opens the door, and damn, he looks good. She told him smart casual, and the sweater and jeans he is wearing pull that off perfectly. Her jaw unhinges, arousal swirling deep in her gut and her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip. She finds herself almost wishing she wasn't this affected by him, because if he turns her down, if her lie is too much, then she doesn't think she will be able to cope.

"Kate, you look beautiful," he says, deep and throaty, and god, just his voice is doing it for her. The phone call this morning has flicked a switch in her, allowing herself to want more, feel more, for him.

"Thank you, Castle," she replies, a soft smile gracing her face, and her nails fidget and scratch along her collarbone as she gestures him in.

He walks ahead of her and she can see the moment he realizes the change of plans. He's frozen, taking everything in, head flicking between the table and kitchen.

She comes around to face him, eyes searching his for approval as she sinks her teeth briefly into her pink stained lip.

He looks… awestruck.

"You- you cooked for me?"

"I- uh- yeah." She nods, wondering if she should explain her reasoning. "Is that ok?"

"Ok? God, Kate- yes of course. I can't wait." He smiles, bright, his eyes ablaze and elated, and it does nothing to quell the fluttering of her heart.

She tells him to make himself comfortable, and she serves up their dinner, protesting when he tries to help.

They make their way through dinner with mostly small talk, Castle chattering on about his mother's antics, asks her advice on his daughter's boyfriend issues. He raves about her meal, and she savors the compliments, because she enjoyed cooking for him, loved having him in her mind as she decided what to make.

She's jittery, is saving the serious stuff for after they've eaten but it's doing her head in wondering how he will react, what will happen for them, and she has to force herself to concentrate on their conversation.

They finish their meals and he stands, takes their plates to the kitchen before she can get a word in, so she calls him over to the couch once he's done. She almost feels sick, her stomach churning and her pulse rapid - she has no clue what the outcome will be, if he even still feels the same way about her. She toes off her shoes and sinks back into the cushions, her nails digging into her palms as she waits for Castle.

He plonks himself down next to her, and she bounces a little with his weight. He's smiling at her, relaxed and soft, but doesn't say anything, apparently is waiting for her to take the lead.

"I heard you," she blurts, and her eyes slam shut. That was so not how she wanted to start this.

"You heard me- what?" He pauses, and she's silent, hopes he figures it out. She opens her eyes, looks at him, and can see the moment it clicks. "Oh. You heard me. At the funeral."

Oh god, she can't do this.

"You- you lied? About not remembering?" His voice is crushed, and she can feel tears stinging her eyes. Her heart, her stupid, scarred heart, crumbles a little at his face, confusion and hurt lining his features.

She explains - or tries to explain - her point of view, how ruined she was after the shooting, after Montgomery. How much she hurt, physically and mentally, how much she was just trying to get through each day without breaking down. His face morphs throughout, understanding and compassion interspersing his previous emotions. She thinks she's explained well, and she stresses that she still shouldn't have lied, but maybe, just maybe he might be able to forgive her.

"Remember on the swings?" she continues, wanting to get through this conversation so she can begin mending them, and herself.

"Yeah. You said you had a wall," he murmurs, avoiding eye contact, but he's still here, he's waiting her out. "You said, you couldn't have the relationship you wanted until the wall comes down."

"You know I was talking about you right?"

His head snaps up, eyes darting to hers.

"You were?"

"Of course, you idiot," she huffs out, but he's waiting for more information so she continues. "I'm not ready just yet, Castle, but I'm trying, I really am. I just- after the phone call- after what you said, I couldn't let you go on wondering."

He sighs. "I had... hoped you meant me, but I was never sure. But this was back when I thought you didn't know how I… felt," he mumbles, and she wishes he would say those words again.

"I am so sorry, Castle, you have to know that," she pleads.

"I know, Kate. I know. I wish- that you had told me sooner, that summer, it... hurt. But you were hurting too, I can't even begin to imagine how hard it would have been. So... I understand."

She sucks in a deep, rattling breath, ribs expanding, and she takes a risk and reaches out and grabs his hand, cradling it in both of hers. It grounds her, warm and heavy in her palms, and he squeezes briefly, giving her the confidence to finish.

"If you still want to wait for me, Castle, I will be all in this. I want to be there, be ready, for you." She stills, brushes her thumb over the back of his hand.

"Kate, god- yes- I'll still wait. Of course I will," he almost groans out, and joy spills throughout her body, her lips splitting into a smile. He mirrors her, and her eyes crinkle, so thankful there is happiness in his features again.

"Yeah?"

He brings up her hand, dusts his lips over her knuckles, and she physically shivers.

"As long as you need, Kate." He squeezes her hand. "But you know that you're already good enough for me right? I don't need you to be perfect. I just need you."

Her heart clenches, aches, and she shifts on the couch, moves next to him and curls into his side. She rests her head on his shoulder and he wraps his arm around hers to pull her in closer, and she closes her eyes as she relaxes. She's warm, safe, she could stay here forever.

"You have me, Castle."