A/N: Hello everyone! Before you read the new chapter I'd like to say two things.

(1) I'm so greateful for each and every review I got for my last chapter. It makes my heart bloom to read that you enjoy this story so much. I'm sorry I couldn't respond to everyone personally as I usually try to. Just know that I read everything and I'm unbelievably happy. You guys rock.

(2) This is actually why I couldn't respond and why I'm unsure about how regularly I'll be updating within the next six weeks. Law school is hell and I have three papers to write and I didn't prepare any chapters beforehand. I try to update as much as possible.

Thanks for reading!

Chapter Eleven

When he swings his front door open she's not what he expects to see. He expects to see the Kate he's got to know the last couple of weeks – the lose jeans and t-shirt wearing, hair up in a pony tail with just some mascara and those worn out Converse shoes – Kate.

No, he sees Detective Kate Beckett, thick eyeliner, black leather jacket over a tight fitting navy colored long sleeve and power heels. She's tall, he almost forgot how tall she is in those shoes she seems to love so much – they're almost on eye level.

That's until- until the soft smile stretches across her face – the one she used to hide around him before – and she takes a step forward, closes her arms around his neck as she leans into him, her warm breath tickling his neck.

He's startled for half a second before he reminds himself that that's what they do now when he presses his arms to her back. After they bought the coffee mugs and went out for coffee they walked back to her place to drink more coffee – out of their mugs this time. Coffee turned into lunch and a movie and almost into dinner. But he promised Alexis pizza that night so he went home. She walked him to the door and before he could turn around she had her arms around him, mumbling that she had a great day.

It's still perplexing, the way she lets him in and he sometimes wonders if it's just a dream – that he'll wake up tomorrow and they're still seven weeks and five days after, only this time she doesn't come to him at night – this time she tries to battle life on her own. It keeps him up at night sometimes.

"You look great, Kate," he mumbles into her hair. "Ha, that rhymed," he exclaims triumphantly. He feels her chuckle against him, slim body moving under his fingers.

"It's good to see you," she says and tightens her grip around him for a moment longer before she pulls away. Their eyes meet and she's still smiling and he's pretty sure he carries the same look on his face. He is also pretty sure that his heart misses a beat and he just really wants to kiss her and the way her eyes fall to his lips for just the split of a second before she looks back into his eyes doesn't help either.

It's stupid – really, because it's so good to see her too and he missed her. They haven't seen each other for two days, two short – so unbelievably long – days.

She went out for breakfast with her father two days ago, confessing that she abandoned him a little bit in the past few weeks. He offered to bring her lunch but she insisted that she really needed to get some laundry done and in the evening she had physical therapy.

And then yesterday. Yesterday, she met the precinct therapist – Dr. Burke she told him later. He offered – almost begged really – to let him take her out for food before or at least take her to the office or pick her up or do anything. She was so quiet on the telephone when she told him she needed to be alone because that was a step she needed to take on her own. She promised to call him later and she did. And he didn't expect her to be able to be any quieter than in the morning but she was – she almost sounded distracted. It took him a few minutes to built up the courage to ask her how her appointment went and the sigh from her side was heavy, thick with emotion when she mumbled a low, "I don't know."

He almost went to her place then, despite her declarations of wanting to be alone but then she said that it somehow felt good but that it was hard and they didn't really talk about much, more getting to know each other and he – Dr. Burke – suggested that she comes back later that week. They were quiet for a while and when he almost convinced himself to really go over there she asked him to tell her a story – that she was really tired and just wanted to sleep and she wanted him to tell her something funny to get her mind off of things.

He invited her for dinner with his family later that night and she said yes, told him she'd love to.

She looks slightly nervous when he helps her out her jacket and guides her into the kitchen with his hand on the small of her back.

"What are we having?" she asks him once she eyes the pots and pans on the stove.

"Oh, that's a surprise, Beckett," he smirks at her and she rolls her eyes at him.

"How am I gonna help if you're not telling me what you're making?"

"You are not helping, that's part of the guest duty, you know."

"And what am I doing then?" She asks, eyebrows arched, amusement and annoyance adorably written over her face and he can't help but to laugh at her – to manly chuckle at her.

"Entertain me," he says shrugging his shoulders and she gives him her best in your dreams face.

"You know, Castle. If you not gonna let me help I'm sure as hell not gonna free you from your boredom."

He can see the mischievous smile she desperately tries to cover when she turns around and walks towards the couch, sitting down with a huff, throwing a last, "call me when dinner is ready," over her shoulder.

It can't have been five minutes later when he hears someone walking down the stairs. He glances at Kate and even from the distance he can see her back stiffening for a moment. For a second he debates if it really was a good idea to invite her over to spend time with him and his family. But then she straightens her back and stands up from the couch. He can see Alexis coming to an halt at the lower third of the stairs, eying him for a second before glancing at Kate who is walking towards her.

"Hey Alexis, how are you?" She asks and he hears the slight tremble in her voice but he's sure for everyone else she sounds like always.

"I'm good, thank you. How are you doing, Detective Beckett?" His daughter on the other hand – the nervousness is written clearly over her face, fingers deep in the pockets of her jeans.

"I'm fine – and you can call me Kate, okay?" She says with a slight chuckle biting down on her lip. It's awkward.

"Okay," Alexis smiles slightly and then throws him a glance and he feels like she's looking for a way out. "Hey Dad, how long until dinner is ready?"

"Ten, fifteen tops."

"I would offer to help-," she starts and then faces Kate once more, a real grin beginning to stretch across her face, "but he can be really stubborn about cooking sometimes."

Kate chuckles at that and he's just so unbelievably proud of his daughter right now. He knows how much it costs her to be here with them – the effort she gives in order to make him happy – and that despite everything she still tries to make Kate feel welcome in their home. That despite her worry and fear she's here, talking to- to the woman he loves, the woman she once looked up to. Back when- before. Before everything fell apart and he weaseled his way into Kate's mother's murder and-

Everything.

"I noticed, made the mistake to did offer," Kate answers and it's Alexis who chuckles now and when she glances at him he can't help but beam proudly at her, mouthing an I love you in her direction.

"You- uhm- how does Ashley like California?" Kate asks after a moment of silence, trying to turn the conversation away from uncomfortable how are you's and I'm fine's.

"Great, misses the city, though," Alexis points to the couch and Kate nods, both of them turn their backs to him.

"Understandable, no place like New York City," she smiles when she sits down next to his daughter, their voices just a low mumble he can't make out anymore. They are talking quietly and he desperately wishes he was closer to hear what they're talking about.

He turns back to the food for a moment, stirs the sauce and checks the pasta before he looks at them again just when Kate lifts her hand to brush a piece of hair behind her ear. The mood shifted in those past twenty five seconds, he can feel that – even though he can't hear what they are talking about. Kate and Alexis are angled towards each other on the couch and just from the way his daughter sits he knows it's a serious conversation.

Fuck-

He didn't plan for that. Not for serious – not for that serious. He really, cowardly hoped for avoidance or something similar unhealthy. Anything but that. And he still doesn't know what it's about but it's his daughter and it's Kate and they're both strong hearted, strong minded people and- it might not be pretty.

Alexis is listening while Kate talks, brows drawn together in an arch of concentration between her eyes and the way his daughter nods he's not sure if it's a good or a bad sign. She – Alexis – says something then and a small sad smile appears on Kate's lips when she shakes her head and lets her eyes fall downwards for a moment. She's hesitating when she looks up again – he can see that even from the distance. She says something then, something important, because her eyes are locked with Alexis', his girl listening intensely and Kate's fingers tremble slightly when she brushes another strand of hair out of her face.

But then Alexis starts to smile – just a tiny tug on her lip but he sees the honesty in her eyes, even from the distance and Kate smiles too and whatever they talked about – whatever Kate said- there is a light in his daughters eyes he hasn't seen in a long time, not linked to her anyway. It might even be understanding. He can't decide whom his pride is more angled to right now.

He watches them for a few more seconds before he turns back to the food in need to finish what he prepared for them.

"Ladies, dinner is ready," he calls over to them when they seem to have fallen back into a what looks like a normal discussion – or, as normal as it can be these days. They share another somewhat shy smile before they both get up and walk in his direction. Kate stands behind for a moment and he eyes her a little worried but she just shakes her head at him. He puts his arm around Alexis when she's close to him and kisses her head.

"Dad, where is Gram?" She asks the moment the lock turns and Martha enters the loft.

"I'm right here," she exclaims on a laugh then, lets her purse fall on the small table beside the door before she turns to Kate, who still nervously hovers near the couch. And he gets it – somehow. Kate knows him and she knows that he talks to his mother, confides in her more than he'd ever dare to admit. But Martha doesn't seem to be fazed by it and walks straight to her and pulls her into a tight embrace.

"Oh Katherine, look at you kiddo, you're looking good," she says, slim arms strongly wrapped around Kate's back when she returns the hug and it even seems like she's sinking into his mother's body when a relieved breath leaves her lungs.

"Thank you, Martha," she says and he hears the emotions in her voice.

"How are you?" She asks when they pull away from each other.

"I'm fine," she answers and stops then, eyes the older woman in front of her. "I'll- I'll be fine," she says then, somehow not being able to lie to his mother.

"Oh of course you'll be," she laughs and squeezes her fingers for a second. "Never doubted that for a second."

He shouldn't be staring like that. He should be doing things – anything but stand there in the middle of his loft, his daughter tugged to his side, eyes glued to his mother and Kate.

"Richard darling, what do we have for dinner?" Martha asks then when she turns to him, eyebrows pulls up in a way that clearly screams at him that she caught him starring.

"Really Dad," Alexis says when she pulls away from him. "He wouldn't even tell me," she tells her grandmother.

"Yeah, Castle?"

"Okay, whatever it is that you're doing. You're going to stop now, because that is not cool," he says, eyes wandering from his mother to his daughter to his- Kate. Then he shakes his head and laughs and tells them to sit down because he's happy right now – really, really happy.

/

Dinner is good – far better than he expected at first. It's quiet and a little tense and really, his mother does most of the talking – telling them about her new students and about classes she wants to teach next semester. He's barely able to participate in her story telling and it's okay because his daughter is smiling next to him and so is Kate on the other side, actually laughing widely and he's just there – in awe.

He pampers them with food though, pasta with tomato sauce – out of fresh tomatoes of course, bread with homemade garlic butter and salad. It's nothing fancy but it's comfort food and not too rich or heavy for Kate's stomach. It's been getting better with the lower dosage of her medication and his daily cooking but he's still careful, there are still too many things that tend to upset her stomach from time to time.

But today is working fine and she sits on the couch after dinner, waiting for him. She almost begged to let her help him cleaning up the kitchen but he refused – again, send her off to the couch with the promise to join her soon.

They're alone now – Alexis up in her room having a Skype date with Ashley while his mother is off, doing whatever in her room. She said something about preparing a class before she went upstairs after Alexis. He's sure she just wanted to give them some privacy.

"You want another glass of wine?" He asks from behind her and she turns around, eyes bright and shaking her head.

"No, thank you. That-," she points to the still half full glass of wine on the table in front of her, "was my first glass in months and I'm not sure I should be drinking at all."

"I'm sorry," he winces as he settles down next to her.

"Not your fault, I could have said no," she smiles.

"Really, since when can you say no to me?" He smirks at her and she blushes.

"Just watch me, Mr. Castle," she replies flirtatious.

Silence falls over them then and it's comfortable, relaxing. Her legs are tucked under her body, her shoulder gently brushes his whenever she takes a breath.

"Thank you," he says after a few minutes and she turns around to him, eyes drawn together in confusion.

"For what?"

"I don't know what you said to Alexis, but-," she cuts him off mid sentence.

"Sorry. I said I was sorry."

"You didn't have to-," he starts again.

"Yeah, I did. She- she deserved to know why I- why I didn't call for so long. She deserved to know that I never wanted to hurt any of you and that I won't just disappear like that again. You all deserve to know," she ends the sentence on a breath, eyes open and wide and honest.

"I know that," he replies and his hand finds hers on her knee and he gently squeezes her fingers, they are warm and soft beneath his skin and her smile lets a warmth spread through his stomach and into his limbs. And he just can't look away. No matter how much he wanted to – not that he actually wants to look away from her. No, never. She keeps watching him with that beautiful eyes and it's not the first time lately – okay, not even the first time tonight or within the last hour or the last ten minutes that he thinks about kissing her. That he thinks about leaning in, just those few inches, because they are that close, cross the distance between them and press their lips together.

Together in a real kiss – not triggered by danger, undercover in an alley in the cold winter night air. A real kiss with closed eyes and his heart beating out of his chest, his hands in her hair. But- he can't. He can't.

Can't. Can't. Can't.

It's running like a mantra through his head because if it doesn't he might do something really stupid. And he can't because he told her he loved her and she can't remember and she needs his friendship right now. He really wants her and he knows that some part of her has at least thought about them together but not now. She is- they are vulnerable and still broken and she needs to find solid ground under her feet. They both do. She trusts him and lets him in and he's not going to jeopardize that because her eyes are so big and her hand is still so warm in his and-

-Warm. Her lips are warm and full and soft against his. Everything and so much more than he remembers. And she's the one who kissed him – who still kisses him. She has one hand on either side of his neck, holds him in place as she presses her lips to his. He can't help but to participate because- because Kate Beckett is kissing him and she tastes like dinner and red wine and herself.

She rises up on her knees next to him, pulls him closer into her, short nails dig into the back of his skull as his hands find her waist, fingers brushing the warm skin of her stomach in places her shirt has risen up. He lets his teeth graze her lower lip when her mouth falls open for him, tongues touching and it's hot and wet and he buries one hand in her hair, pulls her even closer. Their chests are touching and his heart is hammering but so is hers and they are so good at this.

He pulls away from her, only to let his mouth move over her jaw down to her neck, taste the skin he's been dreaming about for so long under his lips. She breathes heavily next to his ear, fingers pressed into his shoulder blades.

It's then that she pulls away from him – just as quickly as it started – pushes slightly on his shoulders to get some distance between them, muttering a fuck under her breath. And it's then that he realizes what really just happened and-

Can't. Can't. Can't.

She stares at him, one of his hands still at her waist.

"Kate-," he says because he really just needs to say anything because something that comes pretty close to horror is written over her face.

"I can't, Castle. I'm sorry," she mutters when she gets up, eyes falling from his.

"Kate-," he says again and walks after her while she's already frantically pulling on her shoes she's left by the door. He catches her by the elbow but she flinches and he pulls his hand away.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-," she breaks of on a shaky – sob like sounding – breath. "I'm sorry," she repeats.

"It's okay. Kate, really," he's desperate and confused and she's zipping up her jacket with trembling fingers and he just wants to pull her close. "I'm sorry," he tries.

She stands still for a second, eyes drawn to the floor beneath their feet. When she looks up at him he sees the tears swimming in her eyes.

"It's not you fault," she says. "I'm messed up- you deserve-," she starts but shakes her head and turns around. "I can't. I'm sorry," she says one more time because she pulls the door close behind herself.

She's gone and he's alone. And that's not how he planned tonight to go.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

A/N: What do you think? It would make me unbelievably happy if you could leave me a short message.