Castle knocked on Kate's door but didn't hear anything in response. She had given him a key before he left, in case she was asleep when he returned, but he had been hesitant to use it. Their intimacy during her illness had made him happier than he had been in a long time, but now that she was feeling a bit better, he was terrified that it was all an illusion which would shatter like glass if he touched it carelessly.

He knocked again, a little louder this time, still getting no response. He sighed and considered the key. He also considered the phone in his hand. If she was sleeping, he didn't want to wake her. She needed to rest as much as she could. But what is she was in trouble? Passed out on the bathroom floor? He sighed and put the key in the lock, turning slowly and opening the door as quietly as possible. He walked inside and smiled at what he saw. Kate was lying on the couch, her laptop open on the coffee table, a half written case report on the screen.

Castle walked over to her and collected the files which were scattered around her. He put them in a neat pile next to the computer and hit the save button to be sure her work wouldn't be lost. He chuckled at the memory of the lost chapter of Storm Rising which had happened after a wild night of drinking and writing. He had passed out and somehow the chapter, a masterpiece for sure, had disappeared when he woke up.

As he looked at the screen he scanned the report. There in black and white was a summary of one of their recent cases involving the murder of a young woman who had come from a small town and tried to make it on Broadway, only to be murdered by an unscrupulous "agent." The story was a cliché and yet she portrayed the victim with respect and summarized the facts of the case as though it is the first time. For that victim… it was the first and last time. For Kate Beckett, for that moment, until justice is served for that poor woman, she is all that matters. It is one of the million things Castle loves about Kate Beckett.

He looked at her sleeping face, fighting the need to reach out and touch her. Instead, he pulled the blanket off the chair next to him and gently covered her. He pressed the lightest whisper of a kiss on her cheek and turned toward the kitchen. He was not surprised at all to find that she had put the dishes in the dishwasher. He had known before he had walked out the door. Kate didn't leave things half finished. Not in her kitchen. Not in her cases. Not in her life.

When Kate opened her eyes, she saw Castle sitting in the chair next to her, typing furiously on his computer.

"If this was a dream, you would be writing up case reports so I don't have to do them when I go back to work."

He smiled at her, wanting to tell her that looking at her case report had inspired a chapter for the new Nikki Heat novel he had been formulating. Truth was she inspired him daily. Instead he said, "What fun would that be?" He saved his work and set the computer down next to hers. "Are you admitting you dream about me?"

Normally she would have rolled her eyes, but instead she smiled at him. "Nope. Just about paperwork." His gaze warmed her and made her feel so… what? Safe? Comfortable? The smile that lit up his eyes as he placed his hand against her cheek answered the question. She felt loved. She closed her eyes and felt his warmth against her skin.

"Your fever is lower, but you are still pretty warm." His thumb traced across her lips. "You did the dishes."

"Sorry." She said as she sat up.

Castle moved over next to her on the couch. "You promised you would rest."

"I felt better."

"Liar."

"No, really. I felt better so I did the dishes and I started to get some reports written." She leaned her head against his shoulder. "Then I got dizzy."

"Really?" He said in an "I told you so" tone. "You got dizzy after overdoing it? If only someone had warned against that."

"You're enjoying this a little too much."

He rested his head against the top of hers and smiled. "Maybe a little bit."

Kate awoke sometime later in her bed, alone. She looked toward the bathroom but the door was wide open. No sign of Castle. She heard his voice in the next room, trying to speak quietly. She strained to listen in.

"Please don't say that, Sweetie." He said. "I know I haven't been the best example, but I don't want you to…"

He sounded upset.

"Do you want me to come home?" He asked. He paused to listen for a moment. "She's sleeping now but I could… no. OK. Call me if you want to talk some more."

She watched him hang up his phone and sit on the arm of her sofa with a big sigh. He was obviously lost in thought and didn't seem to notice when she got out of bed, wrapped herself in her robe and walk to the doorway.

"You OK, Castle?" She asked, making him jump.

"Hey." He replied. "How long have you been up?"

"Long enough to see something's eating you." She sat in the chair across from him.

He let himself fall back on the couch so he was lying on his back, his legs still hanging over the armrest. "Alexis."

"Is she alright?"

He shrugged in reply. Kate waited a moment to see if he would elaborate.

"She has concluded that true love is an illusion propagated by Hollywood and the greeting card companies."

"Oh." Kate smiled weakly. "Ashley?"

He nodded. "She was sure that they were going to be together forever and that they had real love." He pulled himself into a seated position. "When that fell apart she decided that there is no such thing."

"She'll figure it out."

"Will she?" He asked.

"Of course she will. She's so young…"

"She doesn't exactly have great role models. I am twice divorced. Mother is, well, Mother. Which one of us is going to teach her?"

"Look, Castle," she sighed lightly and sat back in her chair. "I'm not exactly an expert either, but I haven't stopped looking… in spite of my own history. I know it is real."

Castle stared, his voice was an intimate whisper. "How?"

Their eyes held for a long moment before she looked down at her hands and continued. "There was a time when I was about Alexis' age. I had been going out with the same boy for two years." She was lost in thought for a moment. "Daryl Martin." She smiled. "We had that wonderful, youthful, hormone-driven love that only teenagers can experience. It was us against the world. We were sure we were going to be together forever."

Castle nodded with a grin.

"And then we weren't." She shook her head. "I was sure our breakup was proof that love didn't exist."

Again their eyes met. "What changed your mind?"

She smiled. "Mom." She looked at the photo of her parents on the bookcase. "She let me wallow in misery for a while but eventually she came to talk. It made a lot of difference. Really changed my outlook…"

Castle saw the dark cloud come over her face and knew she was thinking of the "wall" which had surrounded her emotions since her mother's murder. "You were in love with a guy named Daryl?" He joked. She didn't respond. "So what did she say?" He asked, wanting to bring her back from the darkness.

"She told me that there are all kinds of love." Her eyes cut to his. "Without making me feel unimportant, she told me that young people love in a fiery, chemical driven way. She said it's all about passion and excitement; about longing and the need to have an ally against the challenges of life."

"I bet that went over well with a teenage girl."

"Oh, I was pissed. I argued that she was too old to understand." She laughed quietly at the memory. "I told her that my generation was so much more sophisticated than hers had been. She let me finish my rant… she was so good at knowing when to just sit back and listen."

"Probably made her a great lawyer." He observed.

"And a great parent." Kate got quiet for a moment. "Anyway, I ranted and raved and when I got it all out of my system, Mom went on to tell me that she did understand because she had been just like me once."

"It's amazing how kids forget that their parents were young once." Castle said, obviously speaking from experience.

Kate fought the urge to comment on Castle's boyish tendencies even as an adult. Instead she nodded and continued. "She described the differences in what I had felt for Daryl and what she felt for my father." She swallowed hard as a lump built in her throat. "She said that it was one thing to love the person who dotes on you and leaves sweet notes in your locker. That was easy." She looked at the picture again. "Then she said it was quite another thing to look at the person who left their dirty socks on the floor next to the hamper and know that you loved them." She smiled. "She looked me in the eye and said, when you can look at him, in his old sweatpants, watching the basketball game, drinking a beer and burping loudly and still think…" Tears fell. "And still think that you are the luckiest person in the world…" Her voice failed for a moment. "That's when you know that you have the kind of love that will last forever."

Castle reached over and took her hand. That love her parents had shared had also let to her dad's downward spiral following her mom's death. His thumb stroked the back of her hand very softly, then raised it to his lips. "They would both admit that it was worth it, I'm sure of it."

She nodded, wiping a tear from her cheek. "Dad did say it… once he had recovered." Her eyes burned into his. "He told me that more than anything, he wants me to know that love." The emotion in her voice was obvious.

"Your father is a wise man." He said in a breathy whisper.

"So is Alexis'. You'll figure it out." She kissed his cheek softly.

Castle closed his eyes as her lips met his skin, taking a deep breath. "Thanks." They lingered there a moment, lost in emotion, but Castle suddenly shook his head and stood. "You need fluids. Want some tea?"

"Thanks." She started to get up to follow him into the kitchen.

"Stay where you are. I'm just going to put the kettle on." He called over his shoulder. "Lay on the couch and rest."

"I'm not the lying around type." She said as she lowered her aching body back onto the sofa and pulled the blanket over her body.

Castle watched her settle in and thought about her mother's words. She wasn't drinking beer and he was certain her dirty socks always made it to the hamper. She was pale and clammy and he was all but certain he would get the flu after taking care of her, but he didn't care. He watched her pull the blanket more tightly around herself and felt like the luckiest man in the world. He opened his mouth to say so.

"Kate, I…" He walked in and looked at her. "I was thinking maybe we could watch a movie or something." He cringed inwardly at his loss of nerve.

"Sure." She curled her legs up so he could sit on the end of the couch. Once he sat, she rested her feet on his lap. He immediately began rubbing her feet.

"That feels nice."

He continued rubbing, feeling her shiver. "Cold?"

She shrugged.

"Scoot over." He said as he slid next to her, wrapping her in his arms. "Better?"

Kate relaxed against him and closed her eyes. "Much."