Mmkay, brace for especially long author's notes this time because, as I expected, this is the last chapter, and I'm going to get sentimental and blabber. Accept it now, and don't say I didn't warn you. Let me start by saying I love you all. Seriously. The response to Chapter 10 completely blew me away. You're amazing, all of you. I especially loved how many reviews quoted Castle's "Wow." Made me smile. :) Plus... it made for some seriously awesome reviews. I'm glad you liked it! Thank you so much for sticking with the story, which is now officially the third multi-chaptered fanfic I've actually finished, and the second for Castle. And of the three, this one just might be my favorite. It definitely has the most depth. Anyway, without further ado, here's the last installment. (I'll blabber more at the end, as usual, and some of it will actually be important.) Here's hoping it lives up to your expectations! :)


He found that he couldn't stop looking at her. Not just because she was beautiful, although obviously she was, even now, when he was sure her looks were the last thing on her mind. Perhaps, he thought, she was even more beautiful than usual now, with very little makeup or jewelry, no real attention paid to her hair or clothes. What he saw was all her, Kate Beckett and nothing else. It was a rare sight, he knew. One that not many people got to see.

But this wasn't what kept him looking at her. He looked at her face, just inches from his own. Her hand, clasped with his. The remarkable stillness of her body. She wasn't leaving. She wasn't running away.

In all his various fantasies about getting together with Detective Beckett, he'd never imagined anything like this. He'd never doubted that one day the planets would align, the perfect circumstances would come together, and it finally would happen. Ultimately, this belief was what kept him going to the precinct day after day, following her around on cases like a puppy dog even after he'd done more than enough research for whatever book he was working on. But he could never have dreamed that it would happen like this. His fantasies had always been grand, full of passion. This moment was quiet. Subdued. Full of emotion, but not the kind of emotion he'd always expected.

There was so much peace, so much stillness in this moment that he could almost believe he'd imagined the kiss. But he still felt the echo of her lips on his. It had happened. Oh dear God, had it ever.

"Ready to go?" she asked when the windows were fully darkened, jarring him from his thoughts. He nodded and walked with her back down the street, deserted except for the occasional car, still holding her hand. Actually holding her hand.

He was reluctant to let go when they got to the car, still unable to convince himself that she'd ever let him hold it again, but he did. He decided that she'd been calm enough for long enough now that if she wanted to drive he'd let her, but she got into the passenger seat of her own accord.

"So… what now?" he asked when they were both settled in the car.

It was a loaded question, more so than he'd intended, and a slightly awkward silent moment passed before he clarified his meaning.

"I mean… I'll take you home?"

She nodded.

"Right." He started driving, unnerved by the silence that filled the car. He wished she'd say something, anything, about what had happened. They'd kissed. Held hands. Watched the sun set together. This was well beyond the bounds of anything their relationship had ever been before. It could change everything. Or it could change nothing.

She was obviously emotionally vulnerable right now. Had he taken advantage of that? She'd initiated the kiss, but it wasn't like he'd tried to stop her. Was she sorry it had happened at all? Was he? No. God no. It had felt good. It had felt right. But still, if she wanted to pretend it never happened, he could allow her that. The circumstances were weird and they both knew it. The planets would just have to align again at a more conventional time. And they would. He knew they would. He had to believe that.

"Do you want me to drop you off?" he asked as they finally neared her building again. "You can finally have your alone time?"

She looked at him, her face utterly expressionless. Unreadable even by Castle, the one who'd been studying her for so long. "Do you want to go?"

He didn't. He didn't at all. But part of him felt like he should. He was desperately afraid of getting carried away, that he would go too far. That he'd already gone too far. He was afraid that if he moved too fast, she would draw back, push him away. If he went home, it would give them both time to process, to get their footing. To think about what had happened, and figure out what it meant to them. But he didn't want time, and he didn't want space. "Only if you want me to," he said, putting the ball back in her court.

She sighed, and he could've sworn he caught a glimpse of a smile out of the corner of his eye as he focused on the road. "I'm okay. You don't need to…"

He interrupted her struggle to find the words. "That's not what I asked. I asked if you wanted me to come in."

She nodded. "Okay. Yeah. For a little while."

"Sounds good." He pulled into the building's lot, parked, and walked with her back to her apartment, not holding her hand this time. When they got to the door, a huge arrangement of assorted colorful flowers in a pretty basket was already there waiting for them.

She stared at it for a second before turning to him. "Did you do this?"

"Geez, Lou's fast," he mumbled, looking at the basket, filled with some of the florist's best work. He picked up his head and looked at Beckett. "I didn't think they'd be here this soon."

"When did you—"

"I told Lou to send something here when you weren't paying attention," he said, interrupting her. "I just figured, since you weren't going to get to really enjoy the ones we bought…"

"Castle, this is too much," she said. But she was smiling.

He shrugged, also smiling, pleased that she liked it, regardless of what she said. "I'm good with that."

She shook her head, but picked up the basket and opened the door to her apartment. He followed her inside and sat on the couch while she positioned the basket on the coffee table. Finally she sat down as well, also on the couch, but leaving some space between them.

"Look Kate," he started, determined to get this out before he changed his mind, "about what happened earlier… it's okay if you want to pretend it didn't. I'd understand."

The corner of her mouth twitched upward. "I don't."

Castle's mind went blank. He hadn't expected this response. "You… you what now?"

"I don't want to pretend it didn't happen." She bit her lip. "Why, do you?"

"No! No, I just thought… I don't…"

Now it was her turn to save him from his struggle for words, which was ironic because Castle never struggled with words. "I kissed you, remember? And I'm not taking anything back."

"So… we go forward."

She nodded, considering his words. "Forward. Yeah." Her face hardened. "But no mention of this at the precinct tomorrow. Not any of it. Not even that you were here."

"Understood. But I, uh, kind of freaked out this morning when no one knew where you were, and I told Lanie that I'd let her know when I found out what you were up to."

"I'll take care of Lanie. Anyone else asks, just make something up. You're good at that."

He smiled. "I am."

"Nothing too off-the-wall."

He laughed. That thought hadn't even crossed his mind. Yet. "I promise."

"Good." She absently twirled the ends of her hair through her fingers, and he could tell she was thinking about saying something else, so he kept quiet, waiting for her. "Rick, I really want to thank you—"

He cut her off. "Don't. It's not necessary."

"Just let me finish. You've done so much more today than you realize. You made it tolerable. You made parts of it good. And you got me to think about my mom's life, not just her death. I never would've thought I could do that today, but you know what? It helps. And your being here helps."

She brushed away a few stray tears, and he put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm glad," he said simply.

She scooted closer to him and let her head rest on his shoulder as he stroked hers. They sat like this for an indefinite amount of time before she suddenly got up, startling him. "Be right back."

He watched her until she disappeared around a corner, wondering where in the world she could possibly be going. But it wasn't more than a few seconds before she reemerged with a yellow legal pad and a pen. She sat down again and positioned the pad so he could easily read over her shoulder. She poised the pen as though ready to start writing, but after a moment passed and she hadn't, she turned to him, looking a little frustrated. "What do I call it?"

He frowned, immediately confused. "What do you call what?"

She gave him the same exasperated look he'd seen so many times before. "That thing you told me to write earlier. The memory thing. You know, about my mom? What do I call it?"

He smiled. He'd almost forgotten he'd given her this suggestion, and was pleasantly surprised at how seriously she'd apparently taken it. "Right. Why do you have to call it anything?"

She frowned. "It has to have a title."

"Why?"

"Because things have titles."

"Okay, writing one-oh-one. A lot of writers, myself included, come up with the title last. You don't necessarily need to start there. And besides, you're writing this for yourself, right? You don't need to have a title. You don't need to do anything you don't want to do."

"What if I want to give it a title?"

He shook his head. "You are a very stubborn woman."

"Oh, I'm sorry, does that surprise you?"

He smiled. "Not at all. If you need to call it something, you can come up with a working title. It can be anything, the first thing that comes into your head, and when you think of something better, you can change it."

"Okay… like what?"

If this was going to work, he was really going to have to work on her creativity. "I don't know, 'Kate's Story.' Anything. Whatever you want."

She nodded and finally started writing. When she moved her hand, he read the title she'd written at the top of the page in neat script. "Johanna's Story."

He smiled. She'd taken his offhand suggestion and tweaked it a little. That would work.

But when she looked up to get his approval, his eyebrows twitched at another observation he was making, and she immediately became self-conscious. "What? Is there something wrong with that?" she demanded.

"No, no, it's perfect."

"Then what was with the face?"

"I've just never seen you use cursive before. When you write on the murder board it's always printed, all caps."

She shrugged. "Keeps things neat."

He nodded. "I got it. Just an observation."

She looked at the paper for another minute, and then looked at him again. "What now? Where do I start?"

He smiled. "I have never seen you this confused before."

Her eyes widened in frustration. "I've never done anything like this before, I don't know what I'm doing."

"That's kind of my point. I've never seen you not know what you're doing."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm glad you're enjoying this. Now where do I start?"

"Start wherever you want, you're writing it."

"At the beginning?"

"Sure."

She looked at the paper for another few seconds. "What's the beginning?"

"Kate, just write something," he laughed. "The first thing that comes to mind. Anything you remember. Then maybe that will spark something else, and you can work from there. It doesn't have to be in any kind of order. Just write."

"Can't you give me some kind of an idea? Just to get me started?"

"I don't know how, I don't know what you're trying to remember." He watched her struggle for another few seconds before he did have an idea. "Or maybe I do. Why don't you start with the windows, and the library? It's fresh in your mind, we were just there. Describe it. Describe what it was like when you were there with your mom."

She nodded and wrote the word "Library" on the next line, like a subtitle. But then she stalled again.

"Remember when you were explaining what we were doing there to me earlier? Start there. Pretend you're talking to someone if it helps, but write it down."

She looked away from the page and met his eyes. "Just jump in?"

He smiled. "Absolutely. Jump in."

She paused for another half second, returned his smile, and began writing.


And that's all, folks! I totally just killed the mood there, didn't I? I did. I killed it. Oh well. I didn't realize it until I went back to edit this, but I think I was sort of subconsciously channeling the Castle writers with that ending. I mean, not subconsciously exactly... good fanfiction channels the actual writers all the time... but I mean in that it's all about the subtext. Which I'm positive you figured out. It's not hard subtext, by any stretch. I kind of like it that way, though. Obviously. It's the last chapter. If I wasn't fully satisfied with it, I wouldn't be posting it.

Anyway. That wasn't the important part. Apparently I'm going to take forever to get to the important part. So like I'm pretty sure I said after the last chapter, my goal with this one was kind of to tie up some loose ends. I wanted to shed a bit more light on the kiss and what it meant to them, and I wanted to revisit the idea of Beckett writing about her mom as a way to remember with Castle's help, just to kind of bring things full-circle. And in one respect, it worked just like I wanted it to. I think the writing was a good way to end the day, and the story. BUT, (here comes the potentially important part) I had so much fun playing with the idea of Beckett writing and Castle helping her that I kind of want to continue with it. So I started kicking around the idea of writing a sequel. I actually started plotting it out a little bit, and the idea is sounding better and better to me by the second.

It would pick up with Castle and Beckett's relationship right where this one is leaving off, and I'd get to develop that a little, but the dominant thing would be the story. I'm not exactly sure how it would work out yet, but I think I'd like to actually put in parts of the story as she writes it, so I'd get to kind of explore her past a little as Castle learns more about it. Tone-wise, it would be considerably lighter and fluffier than this one was, but there'd be some substance there too. I'm excited about it now, so I'm probably going to do it, but I'd love to hear what you think of the idea (as well as what you think of this chapter, obviously!). If I do decide to do it, it probably won't come out for a little while yet, mostly because the idea of only having one story to worry about updating sounds REALLY appealing right now, but I like having ideas queued up. And who knows, if I start writing it and get too excited to wait (which happens a lot, actually...), it might happen sooner than I think. So you know, if you're interested, just keep half an eye out for it. I also try to keep a record of what I'm working on on my profile page (I haven't updated it in awhile, but I'm going to do that as soon as I finish posting this...), so if I'm going to do it it'll probably show up there before too long. :)

Again, thanks so much for reading and reviewing, you're awesome!