Thank you all for your lovely reviews that I never seem to have time to respond to, but that I appreciate so very much!

And thank you to Andy for putting up with all the half-finished chapters I've been sending her... and for helping me figure out how to finish them :)

This one picks up at the very end of 4x19, under the assumption that if Castle didn't hear her accidental confession, things would have continued normally.

#10: What if… Castle never heard the interrogation in 47 Seconds?

Prompt by Lou

"You know, now that the case is done… what did you want to talk about?"

She's gazing at him with such tentativeness, but he can see hope sparking in her eyes too; as though she knows what he wants to say. He thinks she probably does. After all, she'd been the first one to bring it up the other day, before they got interrupted.

Castle hesitates, glances around. There are so many things they need to talk about but… not at the precinct. Or the Old Haunt.

"Not here," he says softly. "But… my place?"

Kate smiles, accepts without hesitation. "Let's go."

It's late, well past midnight, and the drive to Castle's loft takes only a few minutes. Kate keeps both hands firmly on the steering wheel, eyes fixed out the windshield, forcing herself to remain calm. She's almost positive she knows what Castle wants to talk about because she's been thinking it too.

Life is short. She's painfully aware of that. It's a lesson she learned the hard way twelve years ago, a lesson she re-learned less than a year ago.

She's been holding back, giving herself time to heal and work things out, because she so desperately wants to finally do things right. But after this case, she can't hold back anymore. Not if it might mean she misses her chance entirely.

Even so, she's terribly nervous; it's as though an angry swarm of bees has been released in her stomach and a boa constrictor has wound itself around the wall of her chest, constricting her heart and lungs. There's excitement and anticipation in there somewhere as well at the prospect of finally falling into his arms and giving in to what she so desperately wants. But at the moment, it's being completely drowned out by nerves.

For his part, Castle seems nervous, too. He's uncharacteristically still and silent, and though he throws the occasional surreptitious glance in her direction, he's mostly staring absently into the night.

Kate maneuvers her cruiser into a parking space outside the loft, kills the engine. Castle is already opening the door, stepping out onto the sidewalk, and Kate follows suit. He waits for her at the curb, offers a smile when their eyes meet and rests a gentle hand on her back as they cross the sidewalk and enter his building. He drops his hand as they wait for the elevator, raises it again to guide her into and out of the lift with soft pressure against the arch of her spine.

His touch both calms her and sends her already frazzled nerves into even more of a state of chaos.

Castle inserts the key into the lock with much less trouble than she would have had, opens the door and steps back to allow Kate entry before crossing the threshold after her and closing the door. The loft is silent; Martha is teaching an early morning acting class and Alexis has headed off to the Hamptons for the weekend with Paige following Lanie's insistence that the teen take a few days off after this last case.

Castle helps Kate out of her jacket, fingers brushing against her skin, and she shivers. The nerves are almost unbearable now, but so is the silence. She doesn't know what to say, has no idea where to even begin after all they've been through these last few months… but she does have an idea of what she could do.

Castle drapes her jacket over a hanger, slides his into place as well before shutting the closet door. He turns, poised to speak – she thinks – but before any words can leave his mouth Kate steps forward, catching his jaw with both hands and capturing his lips with her own.

Castle freezes, stunned.

Kate Beckett is kissing him.

He should probably kiss her back.

But before he has a chance to respond she's pulling away, green eyes blinking open to seek his. In them, he can see the cloud of confusion, and in the moment his only coherent thought is to make it go away. He wants her, he loves her, and he doesn't want there to be any doubt of that.

Castle catches her by the hips as her arms fall from his jaw, keeping her close as he bridges the gap between them again and kisses her firmly. Kate's hands come to rest against his chest, palms splaying wide across his rib cage, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as he deepens the kiss. Her tongue comes out to battle with his, a dance they've danced only once before, nearly a year and a half ago, and yet it feels familiar.

As if he could ever forget what it's like to kiss her.

Kate's hands trace twin paths up his chest to curl around his neck and he loops his arms around her lower back in response, pulling her closer. A moan slips from her throat, spurring him on. It's the same damn sound she made in that dark alley and he wants to hear it again and again for the rest of his life.

Except… they haven't discussed that yet. They haven't discussed anything. Talking is the last thing he wants to do, but they really can't afford a miscommunication right now. He needs to be certain they're on the same page.

"We really should talk," Castle pants against her mouth, breaking their kiss just enough to get the words out.

"We will," she assures him, chasing his lips, reeling him back in.

"Just…" Castle pulls back, meets her eyes. Her pupils are wide and dark, swirling with passion and shimmering with desire, and the mere sight very nearly derails his train of thought. "Promise me this isn't a one-time thing."

"It's not," Kate affirms, swears, and he can see the steely certitude in her gaze. "I promise."

Kate is curled beneath the blankets, caught in that blissful place between sleep and wakefulness, when she feels the bed shift next to her. She forces her eyes open to find Castle gazing at her in what she can only describe as awe. As though he can't believe they're here. Can't believe they made it.

She completely understands the sentiment. She's having a little trouble believing it herself.

"Hey," she whispers, voice hoarse with sleep.

"Hey," he replies, lips curving into the smile that makes his eyes crinkle. She loves that smile almost as much as she loves the man it belongs to.

Kate reaches out, combs her fingers through the bangs that flop adorably over his forehead and refuse to stay back, despite her efforts. He leans into her touch, allows his eyes to fall closed as they cherish this newfound intimacy.

"What time is it?" she murmurs a moment later as her hand falls away.

"Late," Castle replies, forcing his eyes open with what appears to be a great deal of effort. He's clearly still as blissfully sated as she is. "Or, early, I suppose."

"Hmmm."

"You're off tomorrow?"

Kate nods.

"Any plans?"

She shrugs, shoulders rising and falling beneath the covers. "I was thinking I'd just stay right here."

He props himself up on one elbow. "Oh yeah?"

Kate rises to mimic his position and the blankets fall away, exposing her bare chest. Castle's gaze drops immediately, seeking this newly exposed skin.

"I mean, unless you have other plans," she adds.

"No, no plans," he murmurs, half-distracted.

Castle reaches for her, palm spreading wide across her bare side, covering the puckered skin that rises above the rest. She knows he discovered it earlier, felt the way his touch had faltered when his fingers first encountered the damaged skin, but he hadn't commented, merely continued his thorough exploration of her body.

He does now, though, tracing the line with his finger as he asks, "does it still hurt?"

"No," she replies with a shake of her head.

"Does the other one?"

"Sometimes," she admits.

Castle nods thoughtfully as his hand comes to rest in the curve of her waist. "But you're healed now?"

"Physically, yes."

"And everything else?"

She hesitates.

"Kate?"

She pushes herself into a seated position, tugging the covers with her as she leans back against the headboard and curls her knees into her chest. This is the part of the conversation she's been dreading, and she finds herself suddenly very aware that she's naked, completely exposed. She doesn't even have the darkness as a cover; the moon and the lights of Manhattan filter through the open curtains, casting the room in a golden glow.

Castle follows her lead, rising into a seated position as well, and she's grateful for the space and time as she tries to work through the words in her head. She'd been planning to think this all through before they had this conversation. Then again, she hadn't planned on having this conversation while naked in his bed at two o-clock in the morning.

"I've been seeing a therapist," she finally admits.

He turns his head, seeks her eyes in the semi-darkness. "I didn't know that."

Kate meets his gaze briefly before dipping her chin, allowing her eyes fall closed. "I'm not there yet," she confesses with a slight shake of her head. "Not completely. But after this last case I just thought… maybe you could help me knock down the last few bricks?"

She lifts her eyes, cautiously seeking his, finds him gazing at her with so much tenderness it takes her breath away. "I'd love to."

Castle is pleasantly surprised to find that not much changes now that they're together. Fundamentally, they're still the same. They follow leads, build theory, solve cases like they always have. He still brings her coffee and she still accepts it with a thank you and a soft smile. The only difference is that, at the end of the day, they go home together.

Some things are different, though. In private, Kate is softer and more open with him than he ever could have imagined. She's never been one for words and that hasn't really changed, but he can see the adoration in her eyes and the happiness in her smiles and he can feel the love in the tender way she caresses his skin and combs her fingers through his hair.

He so desperately wants to tell her he loves her – again, when she'll remember it this time – but he holds back, allows things to proceed at her pace. She admitted she wasn't quite ready and he's happy to help in any way he can, even if that means exercising a great deal of self-restraint for the next few months while they work – together and separately – to tear down what remains of that wall around her heart.

In the meantime, he gets to fall asleep with her in his arms and wake up with her by his side and he really can't ask for anything more than that.

Their newfound bliss comes skidding to a halt the day Captain Montgomery's house is broken into.

Things are fine at first. Kate allows him to subtly capture her hand in comfort, turns to him for reassurance. But from there, everything quickly begins to unravel.

It's when she goes home alone the following evening with barely more than a mumbled 'good night' that he knows he has to do something. Even if she's not going to like it.

She doesn't.

"Castle, what are you doing here?" Kate huffs as she opens the door following his insistent knocking.

"You're shutting me out," he states, crossing into her apartment and coming to a stop in the middle of the room. He can't help but notice the file spread across the coffee table, the dark circles painted beneath her eyes. This is not good.

Kate closes and locks the door. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," he persists. "And you know it."

"Fine," she concedes in annoyance. "I just… need some space."

"Last time you asked for space I didn't hear from you for three months," he points out.

"Just... until I solve this case."

"That could easily be another three months."

"Castle, please," she protests. "I need to put this guy away. You know that, so please just let me do my job and we can deal with everything else later."

"No," he argues. "Because you're not just looking for space. You're looking to run away from everyone who's trying to help you so you can fall back down the rabbit hole."

"I'm not…"

"Yes, you are," he interrupts before she can even finish her pointless denial. "And they're going to kill you if you don't stop."

She folds her arms across her chest, defiant. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

Castle sighs heavily, runs a hand through his hair in distress. He hates that it's come to this, hates that he's about to start an even bigger fight, but the time has come. He has to tell her the truth.

She's torn between lividity, heartbreak, and surprise when his response to her anger is to confess his love for her with his heart in his throat and tears in his eyes.

It's not news. She's known for months, though he doesn't know that. But it still catches her off-guard, splits her already fragile heart wide open.

"Castle, don't," she pleads in desperation. She's barely holding herself together as it is. She'll break completely if this conversation goes much further. "Don't do this now."

"Then when?" he shoots back. "Last time I told you, you didn't remember. If I don't tell you now and they come after you again…"

He trails off and Kate lifts her head in confusion. "What?"

"You remembered." It's not a question.

She opens her mouth in an automatic denial, but no words come out and it's then that she knows she's been caught. Times like this, she absolutely hates that he can read her so well.

"When?"

"Castle, I can't do this right now," she deflects again. "I need to solve this case."

"No, you don't," he shoots back. "We've been over this. You have to stop."

"I can't. Not when we're this close."

"Bullshit," he calls out. "We're no closer than we were a year ago."

"Yes, we are," she hisses. "We have his face, we have the car keys. We're so close to catching this guy, Castle, so if you aren't going to help then please just leave and I'll call you when it's over."

"Damn it, Kate," he snaps, the sudden harshness in his voice causing her to flinch. "We've been doing this your way, at your pace, and that's fine, but you can't climb into bed with me when it's convenient and push me away when it's not. That's not how a relationship works."

"Then maybe we shouldn't be in one," she retorts, the words flowing out in anger and frustration before she can stop them.

She watches as they strike home, feels her heart stutter and clench in her chest as Castle's entire body deflates, shoulders sinking, eyes losing their shine.

He shoves his hands into his pockets in defeat. "If that's how you feel then maybe we shouldn't."

"Castle," she pleads, already regretting her outburst.

But he's turning his back, making his way to the door. He pauses with his hand on the knob, speaks but doesn't turn. "Goodbye, Beckett."

"Rick…" she calls brokenly, but it's no use. The door shuts behind him and she sinks to the ground, burying her face in her hands as the tears come streaming out in torrents.

Damn it.

This is why she should have waited, why she shouldn't have gone running into his arms – and his bed – after the bombing case. The wall had been coming down, yes. But it was never going to fall all the way until she solved this case, and she knew that.

She should have known she wouldn't be able to handle both.

Kate doesn't sleep. Can't. At four a.m. she finally gives up, forces herself to shower and dress and drags herself to work. She's not sure what she's hoping to accomplish, not with what little information they've actually managed to dig up on her sniper, but at least it gives her something to do that doesn't involve sitting at home, replaying her fight with Castle and failing to suppress the seemingly constant supply of tears that haven't stopped falling since he walked out.

Castle doesn't sleep either, too overwhelmed by the pain and heartbreak in addition to fear of the danger into which Kate is so blindly throwing herself. She may have kicked him out of her life but he still loves her. He doesn't imagine that will fade any time soon, and the day he reads her obituary will be the day his heart shatters forever.

He'd come to her apartment with the intent of protecting her, of confessing the secret he's been harboring for the past nine months. He hadn't imagined the conversation would go well, but he also hadn't imagined the evening would end like this.

How did everything go so horribly wrong?

He ignores a call from Ryan the next morning, before Alexis's graduation, ignores two calls from Beckett after he arrives back home. He has no obligation to answer; even so, he can't quite quench the guilt churning in his stomach.

He hates this.

Hates that he still loves her. Hates that she broke his heart twenty-four hours ago yet he still feels guilty for not taking her calls.

A sharp knocking echoes through the silence, coming from the direction of his front door. Castle sighs heavily as he crosses the loft, too busy forcing his emotions into hiding and faking a smile to give any consideration to who might be at the door. So he's caught completely off guard when he swings it open to reveal a soaking wet version of his ex-partner.

"Beckett," he stammers in surprise, momentarily taken aback before he regains his wits, remembers what she's done and erects a façade of indifference. "What do you want?"

"You," she breathes, crossing the threshold, catching him by the jaw and pressing her lips to his just as she'd done two months ago in this very same foyer. Except that kiss was filled with passion and desire and left him weak in the knees. This one is just breaking his heart.

"Beckett, stop," he pleads as he takes a step back, severing their connection, and the loss of her touch is nearly as painful as the unexpected kiss was to begin with.

Kate's arms fall to her sides and when she lifts her eyes to his, he can see she's been crying.

"Rick…" she begins, but he interrupts her, doesn't want to hear whatever half-assed excuse or explanation she's about to give.

"You can't break up with me and then show up at my front door and kiss me twenty-four hours later."

"I'm sorry," she whispers, at least having the decency to shake her head in shame. "I'm so sorry, Castle. I don't want us to break up. I never did."

"It didn't seem that way last night."

Kate sighs heavily, swipes at the line of tears now blazing a path down her cheeks. "You were right," she admits. "I was spiraling, and you were trying to protect me. I just didn't want to hear it. But then today…" she trails off, shakes her head once more. "You were right again. I almost died. And all I could think about was you and us and all the moments we'd never have."

"Kate…"

"There's no more case," she promises, takes a tentative step closer. She lifts watery eyes to his and through the pools of moisture he can see the steadfast determination in them. "No more walls." She reaches for his hands and, despite his anger, he doesn't resist when she cradles them in her palms, spending a moment to admire the perfect way they fit together before raising her eyes to his once more. "I'm all in, Castle."

She's gazing up at him expectantly, and he's still hurt and upset and a little wary, but he can hear the undeniable resolve in her voice. And she's here and she's alive when he thought he might never see her again, so he uses their joined hands to reel her in and kisses her.

Maybe it's against his better judgement, but he just loves her so damn much.

The kiss is bruising and Kate takes a step backwards as their lips clash, bumping against the still-open door to the loft and knocking it closed. Castle keeps the momentum going, pressing her back against the metal surface as his hands rise to frame her jaw. She clutches his arms, nails digging in so sharply they're probably leaving marks even through the fabric of his shirt, but he doesn't care.

He thought he'd never get to kiss her again.

He breaks from her lips, trails a line of kisses across her jaw, down her neck, stopping to nip at her collarbone; her knees buckle in response and she tightens her grip in an effort to remain upright.

"Castle," she breathes as she slumps back against the door. "Oh, God."

He plants a gentle kiss to the spot to soothe the scrape of his teeth before pulling his lips away from her skin, resting his forehead in the crook of her neck. Kate cradles the back of his head with one hand, holding him in place as they both catch their breath.

At long last he lifts his head, blinks his eyes open to find hers dark and shimmering like liquid fire, so passionate and intense. Kate brushes her nose against his in the sweetest of Eskimo kisses as she seeks his hand, twines their fingers together. She pushes off the door, tugging him with her as she crosses the loft, leading them toward the bedroom he'd already begun to think of as 'theirs.'

He loves that she knows the way despite the lack of illumination, loves that she feels enough at home here to kick her shoes off and leave them in the middle of the bedroom floor, loves the alluring way she turns to him as she begins to unbutton her blouse, slowly revealing the skin he knows so well yet still not nearly well enough. He wants to spend the rest of his life exploring her body, reading her eyes, writing their story.

After everything they've been through in the last week, he won't share these desires with her right now. They need a few days to find their equilibrium again before he adds another layer to their relationship. But once they're settled, once the remnants of their temporary break up have faded away, he's going to finally tell her how he feels without anger or tears or the threat of death hanging over them.

Until then, he'll settle for spending every possible moment showing her how much he loves her.

Beginning with tonight.

Thoughts?