He had always liked winter, always believed that the cold air kept his senses sharp and focused. But that was because he had never felt what cold truly was, not until he was locked in a freezer on the brink of death with the woman he loved wasting away in his lap. He had never known the feeling of losing sensation inside his body in a torturously slow manor, of the icy burn that spread along every inch of his skin before numbness consumed his flesh. He had never known how the cold could sedate his mind, turning every thought into a struggle for concentration. He had never expected the cold to be the obstacle that took her from him.

No, he was no longer a fan of the cold whatsoever. He hated the cold. As soon as they got out of this mess, they were moving to a tropical island and lying out under the boiling sun until every place the frost had touched was thawed completely.

"Castle, are you - are you there?" she managed to stammer out through the harsh trembling of her lips and he tried to squeeze her shoulder, didn't know if his fingers cooperated or not.

"Right here, right here, Kate."

She shivered violently and he attempted to haul her closer, her stiff body already in his lap, her knees frozen at his hips. Her face was buried in his neck, but he could still feel when she turned her head just slightly, her brittle lips moving against his skin.

"Can't feel anything."

No, no, that wasn't good. The shivers of her body had already decreased from constant to barely there - a shudder wracking her frame only every few minutes. Her lithe body was giving up, freezing from the outside in and if he lost her-

"I always thought being a cop, I'd take a bullet," she admitted through the chatter of her teeth and Castle's eyes closed for a moment, forcing the image of her with a bullet in her chest, in any part of her body, to stay away.

"Never thought I'd freeze to death."

"Hey. Don't say that. Don't - don't talk like this is it."

"Is," she rasped, her icy nose pressing against his jaw and he tried not to jerk away from her. "Maybe it is."

"Kate, we're going to make it out of here," he insisted, having to pause for a moment, allow the jagged touch of ice filling his throat to recede. "You and me. We're going to have a life together. The one we should have had before. Before I screwed it up."

"No." The word slipped out of her on an exhale. "You didn't. Both."

It took some concentration, but he was able to press his lips to her skin. She tasted like ice and frost and a bitter chill, but he kept his mouth against her temple.

"If - if we get out…"

"Yes," he urged.

"Marry me."

His dull thudding heart struggled to excel, to soar at her words, but all he could do was nod his head against hers.

"In a heartbeat."

She was quiet then and he had to shake himself, shake her, until he felt the frozen blades of her ice encrusted lashes brush against his cheek.

"You have to stay with me," he pleaded. He knew he was better off than she was. That despite having her wrapped snug around his body, giving her every ounce of heat he could, she would die first.

She sighed, a soft little whimper clattering free. "I just wish this was one of your books and you could rewrite the ending," she whispered, the hands tucked underneath his shirt squeezing at his sides and he clamped his elbows down on them, trying to preserve the frozen stems of her fingers.

"I'm sorry, I'm s-so sorry, love."

"For what?"

"F-for being me. Going rogue. Getting you into - into this. If we hadn't gone - gone rogue-"

He could barely feel it, but her fragile fingers attempted a jerky caress over the frigid skin covering his ribs.

"Shh, Castle, no. Okay? You were right. We found the bomb. We were just too late, okay?"

He couldn't accept that. There was still too much for them, still so much for them to do together. They were finally on the right path, she wanted to marry him, and he couldn't lose her now, not like this.

"Castle." One of her hands left his side, slithered unsteadily up to rest at the tip of his chin. "Thank you... for being there."

He tilted his chin down, kissing her trembling fingertips.

"Always, remember?" he smiled, felt his lips crack with it.

Her head lifted just a fraction, her nose turned into his cheek, her eyes fluttering closed.

"I love you. Just - just know. Love..."

Her sentence trailed, her fingers fell away.

"Kate?"

Nothing.

She wasn't talking, wasn't moving, nothing.

"Kate. Stay with me." His hand stroked over her hair, fingers catching in the frozen tendrils. "You have to stay with me. Can't - not without you."

But she didn't rouse, remained limp and lifeless atop him, no color to her face, no life in her body, a ghost in his arms, and the panic started to flare in his gut - weak and slow as it was, as everything was.

She was still alive, he could still feel the faint thud of her heartbeat, but she was unconscious and that was a grim sign. Castle tried to bundle her up closer, pulled her in tighter against him, sharing any drop of warmth that may be left in his blood, but after what he assumed were minutes, he started to drift into the darkness. The darkness was warm, comforting and soft, so much nicer than the harsh chill of the freezer. It wasn't long before he was drowning in it, barely able to open his eyes.

Maybe it was the end, he thought as the blackness descended. At least it ended with her.

The first thing he registered when consciousness flooded back to him was that he could barely feel his hands. He could see them at his sides but they were useless, clumsy and heavy, like they weren't properly attached to his wrists.

The next was that he was alone; Kate was not here.

"Where is she?" he grunted instantly, his lungs rattling like oddly shaped icicles in his chest as he jerked upwards against the paramedic attempting to keep him down. He was prepared to stagger out of this damn ambulance and search until he found her. "Where-"

"Castle."

The invisible sheen of ice he still felt coating his skin melted a little at the sound of her voice.

"You're okay," he breathed, reaching out for her as she climbed inside the ambulance and went straight for his cot, shooting the paramedic a warning glare when he tried to protest.

"So are you," she sighed, exhaustion and relief lacing along her words as she sat down beside him, instantly sliding her arms around his waist and nuzzling his neck, her nose still freezing, but he cuddled her closer, wrapped his own blanket around her even though she already had one draped over her shoulders. "Lay with you for a bit?"

He nodded, already lowering the two of them down on the one-person gurney, curling securely around her back.

"Fallon's here?" he asked quietly, because he was sure he had caught a glimpse of the Homeland Security agent standing outside.

She nodded. "He wants to debrief with us, but I told him to give us a minute."

He hugged her tighter in appreciation, because he could definitely use a minute, maybe more. They had nearly died – not that that was anything new – and it had been close this time. Really close. All he wanted to do was take her back to the loft and lock her in their bedroom for a few days, keep her warm and protect her from the world and the cold and all the constant dangers that sought them out on a monthly basis, but there was still so much to do. There was a bomb out there, and he would swallow the fear, stand by her side as they worked to save the city, but he just needed a few minutes with her first. The universe owed him this much.

He took a sip of the beer, wrinkled his nose a little at the mixture of taste it made with the single slice of pizza he had devoured. Kate had yet to eat any and when he tried to offer her a piece, she had shaken her head.

"You guys don't know how lucky you are," Esposito commented after the two of them had finished recalling the events of finding the bomb and stopping the a nuclear disaster. Castle looked to her again, watched as she stepped closer and laid her hand atop his shoulder.

"Actually," she murmured, smiling down at him while her thumb traced a slow circle over the skin of his neck. "I do."

They hadn't made any declarations to the boys or Montgomery, but there was an unspoken understanding that the two of them had reconciled as more than just partners in the Twelfth. They had done a less than great job at hiding it to begin with and judging by the reactions from their precinct family, they didn't really need to. Just no making out in my station was the only indiscrete warning Montgomery had given them one afternoon when they were the only two left in the bullpen.

Agent Fallon knocked on the door a few minutes later, asked to see Castle and Beckett outside, and Kate's hand fell away as they shared an apprehensive look. But Fallon only thanked them, in his own subtle, nondescript way, but then they were alone again and Castle turned to face her.

"Hell of a day, huh?"

He could tell she was ready to go home. Sharing a beer with the captain and the boys had been nice, but they'd hardly had a real moment to themselves in the last 48 hours and he wouldn't mind some seclusion.

"Putting it lightly," she grinned, tugging on his hand, leading him away from the break room and all its prying eyes, towards her desk where she grabbed both of their coats before heading straight for the elevator. "Are Alexis and Martha back yet?"

"Not until morning," he answered, accepting his coat from her and slipping his arms through.

"Too bad," she sighed, leaning into his side once the elevator doors had slid to a close. "Alexis makes killer chicken noodle soup."

"Hey," he huffed. "I make it just as good."

She smirked, hiding their loosely entwined fingers between them as they walked through the lobby, past the desk sergeant on duty, and out into the streets. Kate shivered involuntarily once they were in the cool, evening air, and Castle wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

She smiled up at him, small but grateful before it turned challenging.

"Prepared to prove it?"

"Of course, Beckett. I'll have you warmed up in no time."

They took a cab to his loft, too impatient to head for the subway and too worn to drive. She had felt somewhat untrusting of her limbs and the control she had over them, just like this morning when she could barely pour her own coffee. Now the adrenaline was completely gone and it left her muscles somewhat twitchy and sometimes too slow to react. She had looked ashamed of it, but he would never hold it against her, not when his body felt the same way. He didn't mind the chance to hold her close in the back of a taxi either.

In his loft, she went straight for the bedroom, changing into warmer clothing, while he went for the thermostat, increasing the heat. He made the soup he promised her, and she helped, chopping carrots and celery and cubing chicken as he boiled the noodles and seasoned the broth.

"Think we could beat Alexis in a cook off now?" he asked once they were settled on the couch and she grinned as she sipped slowly from her spoon, savored the heat of the liquid sluicing down the lovely line of her throat.

He felt his body course with sudden arousal, warmth that flushed through his bloodstream and eradicated some of the chill still residing in his veins. Watching her eat soup was never supposed to be so erotic.

"Perhaps. We make a pretty good team, even in the kitchen," she replied, tucking her feet under his thigh and he squeezed her ankle.

She finished her bowl and he offered to make her coffee, tea, hot chocolate - anything that would aid in warming her further - but she declined and retired to his bedroom when he insisted on taking her dishes for her.

He took his time washing the bowls and the silverware in the kitchen sink, the warm water a pleasant balm for his hands, and when he followed in her footsteps, entered his bedroom, he found her curled tightly in his bed, still shivering. She lifted her eyes when she noticed him and he hated the helplessness he saw seeping from her dulled irises.

She was wearing his sweatpants, his sweatshirt, even his socks, and she was still trembling in the nest of bedding they had made together the previous night in the middle of his mattress. He didn't know how to fix this, wasn't sure what else he could do.

"Want another blanket?" he inquired gently, because he knew she did, but she shook her head.

"We have the thermostat cranked up to 90 degrees, you made us hot soup, and we're both bundled in winter clothing. I shouldn't need another blanket."

He grabbed another blanket.

She huffed, but welcomed him when he crawled back into the bed with her.

"It's like it's in my fucking bones," she growled, burying her face in his chest and he hugged her tight, briskly ran his hands up and down her bowed spine to elicit some heat there.

"I know the feeling," he murmured, because he felt it too – the frost lining his bones, crusted and unshakable. He knew on some level it was psychological, but that didn't stop him from shivering.

"Can you feel yet?"

He flexed his hands over her back, the worn fabric of his sweatshirt brushing his numb fingertips, only eliciting slight sensation. He had suffered from a touch of frostbite along each of his fingers. It wasn't serious, feeling would return, but it was an uncomfortable, weird sensation to touch without truly feeling.

"Almost."

She reached around, stole one of his hands from her back and toyed with the broad fingers. He wiggled them as he settled back against the headboard with her in his lap, her shoulder pressing into his clavicle while her head rested just under his chin.

Kate examined his hand for a moment, as if the numbness was visible, and then she brought his index finger to her lips, puckered them against his digit.

"Feel that?"

"Little bit."

She repeated the action, adding a gentle nip of her teeth.

"Pretty sure that felt even better."

She chuckled, repeated the action along his other frost nipped digits, but then she dusted her lips along the fourth finger of his left hand, and looked up at him through her lashes.

He hadn't forgotten what she had said in the freezer.

Marry me.

But he hadn't had the courage to bring it up either.

"Ask me when we're not cold anymore."

Castle nodded, a little too eagerly, and she tilted her chin upwards, sought his mouth and moaned in the same beautifully drawn out way she had when she threw her arms around him after he had impulsively – accidentally – stopped a bomb from detonating the city.

His hand slipped under her shirt, spread broadly across her stomach, but she shuddered when he began moving the material upwards.

"It's fine," she murmured when he pulled his hand away, but he shook his head and untangled himself from her and the plethora of blankets. "Castle?"

He was already trotting into his bathroom, called over his shoulder, "Come with me."

Rick reached inside the shower, adjusted the water to as hot as it could go without burning them, and then backtracked to the thermostat by the door.

"I always forget you have heated floors," she stated with a small grin when she entered the bathroom and felt the tile warming under her feet.

"So do I," he chuckled, because even in the winter, he always managed to forget about the convenient addition made to his bathroom a couple of years ago.

"You're showering?" she asked when he stripped his shirt off.

"So are you," he quipped, stepping out of his jeans and staring at her expectantly in his boxers. She sighed, as if this was another one of his dumber ideas, and reluctantly undressed, folding his clothes on the bathroom counter and wrapping her arms around her naked flesh.

Castle took her hand and led her under the spray, folded her into his arms as the hot water drenched them both, extinguishing the assortment of goosebumps that had been scattered along her skin all evening. He pulled the glass door shut, trapping them in the confined space and conserving the growing warmth, the billowing steam. She still shuddered, twined her arms around his slick frame and pressed against his body until there wasn't a fraction of space left between them.

For a few minutes, they remained that way. Castle ran his hands up and down her back, following the stream of water sluicing down her vertebrae before moving against the downpour when his fingers trailed back up.

He raked his hand through her hair next, catching a few loose strands that made a web between his fingers and sticking them to the shower wall until he could glide his fingers through her soaked mane without issue. He was considering washing it too, massaging her scalp as he worked the shampoo through her hair, but she had other ideas – lasciviously opening her mouth against his neck, coasting her palms down his side, and canting her hips forward.

"You promised to warm me up?" she hummed against the underside of his jaw.

He grinned, but nodded in agreement. "And I intend to keep that promise."

He hesitated though. They had sex in his shower quite regularly and it usually tended to involve pressing her against the wall, and despite the humidity clouding around them and likely clinging to every surface in his bathroom, he knew it would still be a cool temperature. He couldn't imagine touching her naked back to the chilled tile.

"Rick?"

They should have done this in the Jacuzzi tub instead.

He ignored the gentle look of concern swirling in the murky depths of her eyes and slipped a hand between them, past the flat plain of her stomach, down to the wet heat pooling between her legs. Her eyes fluttered shut as his fingers glided through her arousal, drawing the moisture up to circle over her clit, making her rise on her tiptoes to meet his touch.

Kate's leg hooked at his calf and Castle withdrew his hand so he could aid in lifting her, smirking at the way she skillfully used her other foot to hop into his arms. Even with her arms and legs twined tightly around him, the water cascading down their skins had her slipping and Castle wrapped an arm at the middle of her back, attempted to use his forearm as a barrier between her skin and the wall.

"Castle," she huffed, finally understanding his earlier apprehension and current precaution. "It's fine."

Her shoulders pressed back into the wall as she rolled her hips forward and he grunted when one of her hands managed to reach between them and wrap around his length. He gave in, gripped her thighs for support to keep them both from crashing to the ground.

Her ankles locked secure at his lower back, he slid into with ease thanks to the water and her own arousal, and her back arched off the wall almost immediately.

"You're good," she gasped, her forehead dropping down onto his, the wet ends of her hair coasting over the edges of his collarbones and creating a dark curtain around their faces. "Good at warming me up."

He choked on a laugh as they moved, cupped her ass and thrust upwards just a little more insistently to hear her moan. She spread her fingers at his jaw as the others weaved through his hair, her breath already coming in short, sharp bursts that fanned against his lips, and he tipped his face upwards to touch his mouth to the parted, pink flesh.

"Love you, Kate," he murmured thoughtlessly and she clenched hard around him without warning, the velvet heat of her walls drawing him too close to the edge.

Her neck craned forward, her lips swooping in to cover his in a possessive kiss that swallowed his groan as he spilled inside her, feeling her own body come undone around him seconds later.

His knees threatened to buckle a few seconds later and she startled when he shifted to keep them from sliding down the slick wall. Her head lifted from his shoulder as her legs unlocked from around his waist, slowly slipped downwards so that the balls of her feet touched the ground and she could support her weight on shaky legs. But she kept her arms laced at his neck, her chest sealed against his, and turned her lips to brush the shell of his ear, evoking a shiver that only added to the tremors of the orgasm still rippling with aftershocks up his spine.

"Warmer?" he managed to breathe out and she nodded, lazily tilting her head back and blinking up at him through the still streaming water that had a congregation of drops hanging from her lashes.

"Thoroughly heated," she husked, her voice still dripping with sex and she needed to stop that or a repeat performance would be happening sooner than his body was prepared for.

"Can I turn this off?" He cocked his head towards the shower and she nodded, already reaching for the silver handle of the door as he spun the nozzle towards the off setting.

He stepped out behind her, accepted the towel she handed him with a blissed-out smile, and grabbed an extra one from the rack to run through her dripping hair.

He focused intently on squeezing the remaining water out and getting her wet strands as dry as possible. She acquiesced him, waiting until he was satisfied with his efforts to slip his sweatshirt back on over her head, but she left the pants and the socks on the counter. He retrieved a new pair of boxers and a t-shirt, but forewent pants as well, like he normally would. This was just another night spent between them, they didn't have to change their routines simply because they had nearly frozen to death.

Castle quickened his step to meet her under the warmth of their blanket mountain.

Her hair still soaked through his pillow when they returned to his bed, but he didn't mind, merely continued combing his fingers through the damp locks from his place beside her. She was on her back, her knees a hill under the comforter, and he was propped on his elbow next to her, attempting to read the blank expression on her face.

"How're your hands?" she asked softly, catching the one tracing hypnotic patterns around her navel.

He shrugged. "Fine, not much change yet."

She frowned and lowered his hand to rest flat over the middle of her chest.

"Kate?"

She didn't answer, just tugged until he collapsed from his elbow and she could turn into him, melding the surfaces of their skins and twining their limbs until they were irreparably tangled.

"I'm just glad you're okay," she whispered to the hollow of his throat and he murmured his assent.

"Me too."

Rick awoke briefly in the dark from a nightmare, cold sweat layering his skin and an icy panic coiling in his stomach, but her arm squeezed at his waist and he felt her body pressed snugly against his back, her cheek between his shoulder blades and her legs twisted between his. They were in bed, both alive, not dead ice sculptures in a freezer. He covered the arm slung over his ribs, fell back to sleep to the soft rise and fall of her chest against him.