Rick readied for bed first and climbed beneath the sheets in wait of Kate. She still hadn't unveiled the present she'd now promised, and his mind, at that point, was off like a speeding train, fantasizing any number of scenarios that involved her coming into the room from the bathroom wearing this, that, or the other, and quite honestly, any of them would be the greatest of gifts.

He set an alarm on his phone for breakfast in the morning, clicked on news story or two, and listened, again, to Peter's recent voicemail message asking him which island he'd chosen to run away to and when he might see some of the new book ideas. Rick hadn't called him back. He still didn't have any book ideas, and Long Island probably wasn't the island he'd had in mind when he'd suggested the getaway. It was a war for another day; Rick didn't know which.

He heard the door open, finally, and Kate walked through wearing the black t-shirt she'd swiped from him after their night together in the hotel, one that'd never looked half as good on his body, and one he couldn't wait to slide off of hers in deliciously deliberate fashion-inch by inch.

"Every single room you walk into is more beautiful with you in it. That is a true fact," he said setting his phone aside.

"A true fact? You mean like the true facts in your books?"

He straightened up, set his back against the pillows. "If you're going to insist upon mocking me, I'm going to insist that you give me my shirt back."

"Right now?" she purred climbing onto the bed beside him. "But I thought you liked the buildup."

He set his hand, faceup, on the mattress, an unspoken request for hers, which she granted. "Hey, are you okay after our talk out on the beach? I know we were kind of interrupted by the stuff with the sunset, and I don't want you to think you have to leave things where they were if-"

"I'm fine, Rick, really. I feel relieved, I guess, or maybe I don't know the word for what I feel, but you don't have to worry about me. There will be more; I know that, but not tonight."

"I'll be here whenever there is."

"I know you will," she said with a gentle squeeze of his hand.

"So, then, do you want to make out or something?"

Kate half laughed and his enthusiastic grin abruptly faded. "Does that mean you changed your mind? You don't want your present?"

"Well, I guess I sort of hoped that was it, or part of it, at least."

She moved into him with his disappointment and straddled his lap, her eyes focused on his mouth, his lips. "You can have that anytime, though. That's not a present."

His hands glided beneath the cotton that cloaked her and along the skin of her back, parked themselves at her waist, just above the line of lace they found there. "It is from where I sit," he said.

Kate gave him a quick peck for the compliment. "Must be nice to have words come so easily. Wish I had some of that talent of yours." With that she pushed herself off of him and slipped from the bed. "Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back."

"I like the sound of that," he called after her as she headed back into the bathroom, returning seconds later with a book in hand. "What's that? The Kamasutra?" He laughed, she didn't. "I was kidding-mostly."

The book no longer had its dust jacket wrapped around it, so Rick didn't recognize it as his own as she stood there. That was purposeful, of course, Kate's attempt at surprise. She didn't have his kind money or resources, years of hints dropped about things he fancied that she could draw upon, but she knew very well of one thing that made him happy, both because he reminded her often and because it was a large part of the reason she was standing there at all.

"This is what I brought for you." She took a spot on the bed, again, but at the foot rather than at the head where he was, so they could more easily see one another. "I wanted to read something that's special to me, and I thought you might like that."

Rick leaned in, his body language already a clear indication of her accurate assumption. "You know how much I love listening to you, whether you're talking or not. Do you want to…" He pulled back the sheets from her side of the bed.

"I'd like to be able to watch you, actually," she told him. "That's going to be my present."

He readjusted and found comfort, settled in. "Can I just tell you before you start, in case I haven't said it, yet, how happy I am that you're here with me and that there's nowhere else I'd rather be?"

Kate smiled softly and opened the book, but not to the beginning, rather to somewhere closer to the end. She offered no context, no hint of what was to come, and she began to read, seemingly, in the middle of a page, in the middle of a paragraph, of a sentence, of a thought, yet Rick recognized the words after but a few. They were his words, the words he'd created that'd been ridiculed and scoffed at by so many since he'd sent them out into the world, and she was delivering them back to him with a level of tenderness that had him nearly in tears in an instant.

Rick's head and his heart swirled as he hung on every consonant and vowel, their eyes meeting intermittently for a taste, and after just the turn of a page or two, she closed the book as nonchalantly as she'd opened it. Neither spoke right away, and he could see that something had happened inside of her, that she'd been affected, though he couldn't imagine to the extent he was.

"Kate, why did you do that?" It wasn't anger or accusation in his voice, rather curiosity that was his first course. Outside of school, no one had ever presented his own work to him like that before, and certainly not with the power she had.

She set the book aside and crossed her legs, the largeness of his shirt draped over her far smaller frame exposing a bare shoulder with the shift. "Did you like it?"

Rick released an indiscernible noise of disbelief at the mere existence of the question. "I have the world's most beautiful woman sitting on a bed three feet from me, wearing my clothes, and reading to me in a voice most voices on the planet would envy. No, Kate, I didn't like it, I loved it. I'm at a loss for words, honestly."

"All evidence to the contrary," she replied lightly. "You were surprised. Your face changed really quickly, though. It only took a few words for you to realize. That was the best part for me."

Rick had to sit up to continue talking. He wasn't sure why-some swell of energy, maybe-but he did. "Believe me, I'm still surprised, but listening to you, I've told you, it does something to me, like you with your mom. I just get lost in it. You still haven't told me why, though."

"The first time you came into the shop, you asked me about this book. It was sitting on a table display near the register. Do you remember that?"

"Are you kidding? I remember everything about that," he said. "You told me you hadn't read it."

"And I asked you if I should, and you told me you didn't know. Why did you say that?"

His brow crinkled. "Why did you tell me you hadn't read it?" he asked in an attempt to turn it back around.

"If I give you an honest answer, will you give me one?" Rick nodded once in acquiescence and she went on. "I told you I'd read things about you, and there are people who've found your ego, let's say, healthy. I was just curious what your reaction would be to someone who hadn't read the famous author's book. I wanted to see how you'd play it, and it turned out it wasn't the way I'd expected."

"You thought I'd be a pompous jackass about it, I see," he chaffed. "I get it. That's probably fair. I've been known to toot my own horn from time to time, and it hasn't always been cute."

"You think it has been sometimes, though?" She smiled and received the same. "Your turn. Honest answer."

Much like Kate with the topic of her father, Rick had somehow managed to tiptoe around the reality of his book for the better part of three months. Maybe it was intentional, maybe it wasn't, and maybe it was more one than the other, but there it sat on the bed with them, now, and avoidance wasn't an option.

"Are you sure you don't want to make out, instead?"

"That comes later," Kate said without a beat.

Rick reached out and she passed it over to him. "I haven't held it since I was in the shop that day." His eyes traveled its line, up and down and across. "Did you know there's a bookbinding museum? It's out in California, only one in the US, actually." He tickled his fingertips along the book's exposed buckram cover and savored the sensation. "I've always thought it would be cool to see that."

"I'll go with you," she told him, and she meant it.

"This was the most difficult thing I've ever written, Kate. This collection of 267 pages, and I didn't do a minute's worth of research, I didn't use a whiteboard or write an outline or even scribble on a notecard, I just typed. I typed in the middle of the night and late in the morning and in the shower and riding around in cabs; even when I wasn't actually at my laptop, I was still typing. It was exhausting, and it was consuming. It was one of the best and worst periods of my entire writing life… and then no one cared. Wait, most people didn't care. The ones who actually attempted to read it thought it should be lining trash cans."

"Hey, don't-"

"Have you read what people said? Have you gone to those websites and scrolled through the paragraphs of reviews they left? I mean, shit, even my publisher asked me to bring Storm back from the dead."

Her voice was firm-not hard, but absolute. "I don't care what people said, or about your publisher, or about any websites. That's not why you wrote that book, Rick. I know it's not. No one writes that book in your hand for any other reason than they're completely in love with the art of writing and with their story, and if you were never to put one more word down on paper as long as you live, I would be honored to read it over and over again."

She went to him, then, and Rick welcomed her into his body and held her, his book pressed somewhere in between. He hadn't truly released it, yet, so much of what'd built up inside him during those early weeks when cold reality had come knocking. He'd been carrying a burdensome chip on his shoulder; that was certain, but the sadness was the heaviest weight, and in her embrace he suddenly felt lighter.

"Thank you for saying that," he whispered at her ear, his arms wrapped around her tighter still. "God, hearing you read it was so incredible."

She angled and pressed her lips to his neck. "It's all beautiful, but I love those pages. I can feel them. That's how I know it's different."

"That's how I knew you were different," he said, pulling back but not relinquishing his hold. Kate silently raised both of her arms into the air, her eyes locked on his. "What are you-"

"I'm giving you your shirt." His fingers found the hem, and he drew the fabric along the curve of her body until it was free of her. "Be proud of what you created, Rick. I am."

"Are you going to read me some more?"

She used the position of her knees at his sides for leverage to guide him down to the pillows. "Not right now," she said in a breath.

xxxx

Klyde's was hopping that morning with the holiday influx, Rick, Kate, and Alexis tucked away against the wall towards the back. Alexis and Brooke, her friend who'd been invited to tag along, sat across from the two who, while certainly present physically, seemed to be off in their own world somewhere, but adorably so, so they'd repeatedly been told.

Kate reached across her plate and plucked a chunk of cantaloupe off of Rick's, neither batting an eyelash, and the teens turned to one another for the umpteenth time since they'd all been seated.

"It's only been two months?" Brooke asked Alexis, attempting a subtlety that failed miserably in its execution. "They're like the cutest old couple I've ever seen."

"Old?" Rick objected, and Kate giggled around her mouthful of fruit. "And it's been almost three months, thank you."

"Sorry, Mr. Castle." Brooke's face turned a bright shade of pink as she worked to hide it behind her mug of hot chocolate.

"You guys have finished each other's sentences at least twice already this weekend," Alexis chimed in in aid of her embarrassed friend. "It might as well be three years."

Rick set down his coffee. "Okay, can we maybe try not to scare Kate off on this trip, please? It's already some kind of miracle she's here with me, at all." Kate gave his thigh a squeeze beneath the table. "How about we all just finish our breakfast so we can get out to the beach and have a day?"

"What, so the only time I get to see you is over holiday weekends in the Hamptons, now?" came a voice from outside their circle. "We do live in the same city, you know."

Rick snapped his head to his left and found Paula standing beside their table. "Paula, hey," he said, surprised yet casual since his period of avoidance had long since come to an end. "Yeah, I guess Memorial Day was the last time."

"You writing or what?" Paula never wasted a minute of time.

"Nope," Alexis answered for him, in case he'd had other plans.

"Not the way to a happy agent, Rick," Paula said. "And who's this?" She looked Kate up and down in swift assessment.

"Kate, Paula. Paula, Kate," Rick said as though hoping he wouldn't need to say much more. "Paula's my agent, obviously."

Brooke jumped in all of a sudden and made her own introduction. "I'm Brooke, Alexis' friend."

Paula spent about half a second on the girl before beelining back to Kate. "Yes, I am the agent, and Kate is…"

Rick slid out of the booth and took her by the arm. "Why don't we go outside and talk. We'll be right back. Alexis, if the check comes." He tossed his wallet on the table and led Paula away.

"She's new. Gorgeous, of course. I expect nothing less from Rick Castle."

"She's not that new, Paula."

Her hands hit her hips. It didn't take long. "So, she's what you've been doing instead of writing? You used to be better at multitasking."

"You used to be better at not being a pain in the ass," Rick quipped. "Look, I met her a few months ago after I dropped Alexis off at camp. She runs a bookshop in Cornwall. She's simple and she's complicated and she's like no one I've ever been with before, and I'm-"

"Yeah, I know exactly what you are. You've got the same thing in your voice as I do when I talk about my new Chanel bag. Is this finally the one or what?"

Rick had known the answer to that question for a long time. "I'm going back inside, now, Paula. I'll call you when we get back to the city," he told her giving her nothing.

xxxx

"Anybody else need anything?" Rick asked, stepping into his flip-flops for the walk back to the house. They'd all been out at the beach for a few hours after returning from breakfast, Brooke having left the group for plans previously made, and they'd already run out of the water in the cooler.

"Grab me the stack of magazines off the counter if you would, darling," Martha replied in request. "This script for my audition has me bored to tears. Watching the sand is more interesting, at this point."

Rick pulled on his cap and grabbed his keys. "Music to a writer's ear, Mother. Anyone else? You sure?" Kate and Alexis both declined and off he went.

"I think I'm going to go for a walk. Anyone care to join me?" Kate wrapped her towel around her waist and tucked it tight.

Alexis jumped up right away; Martha didn't move an inch, and the two wandered off towards the waterline. The tide was low, and the small pools it created in arbitrary pattern along the exposed ocean sand were warm with the afternoon sun. It was their first time spent alone together, girlfriend and daughter, and Kate found herself surprisingly nervous on the unfamiliar ground.

"Your dad said you had a great time working at the camp this summer."

"Yeah, I did," Alexis said, stopping to examine a hermit crab scurrying past. "It was the longest I've ever been away from home, and I know that was hard for him, but it'll look good on my college applications and I met a lot of cool people, so. Did you ever go to camp when you were younger?"

Kate let out something of a laugh. "No, I wasn't really a camp kind of kid. I was always happiest if I was in some quiet corner with a book in my hand." They wandered out a bit further into the water, let it break at their ankles. "I'm sure he probably told you I lost my mom when I was about your age. I didn't really want to be away from my dad much after that."

"He told me. I'm sorry. I can't imagine what I'd do if something happened to one of my parents."

"It must be hard that your mom lives so far away. I guess you don't get to see her very much."

Alexis shrugged. It'd been so many years of flights for long weekends and scattered weeks out of school that she'd really just accepted that was how it would always be. "I don't, no, and it is hard, sometimes, when all my friends have their moms around for stuff."

"Yeah," Kate said reflectively. She understood perfectly.

"I'm sure my dad would strangle me for saying this, but he really likes you. I mean, I know that probably sounds stupid, like something a kid would say, but I just haven't seen him this happy in a long time, and for me and for Gram, that's everything, so thank you."

Kate stopped, and Alexis, too, beside her. "You don't need to thank me, Alexis." She pushed her toes into the sand and reveled in the simple pleasure she didn't get to enjoy often enough. "I don't think I've done all that much, but I'm glad you think he's happy. That's what I want for him."

Alexis crouched and dipped her hands below the surface of the water. "I know I just met you and everything, but it seems like you're pretty happy, too," she told Kate, who let a quiet moment pass before her equal response.

"With him I am."