A/N: I haven't read any of the reviews or PM's I received following the last chapter. So if you asked a question or left a kind comment, my apologies for not responding. I just wanted to focus on writing this next chapter before I opened any of them. Thank you for continuing to read.

Chapter 11 – Confusion

Six weeks seemed like a long time.

A really long time.

But then the more she thought about it the more she realized that it needn't be so. If she chose to handle it with openness and optimism, to let go of any residual hurt and embarrassment over her own part in Castle's decision to reconnect with Gina then it needn't be long and lonely, filled up merely with waiting and marking time. No, it could be filled with other things too – useful, purposeful, sometimes awkward or difficult things, but things that would ultimately carry them forward towards a new place together. So that when those six weeks were up, Castle could come back to work with her properly healed in all senses of the word, and she would have played her part in that recuperation, and he would have healed her too in a way.

Looked at in that light, it was a win-win. Or at least it could be.

"Thank you for the flowers by the way," he had said to her as he hovered by her open front door, lingering as if the last thing he wanted to do was leave. His face looked cloudy, that grey of approaching rain clouds on an unsettled, unpredictable day. "Gina would have approved," he added, before letting his gaze drop to meet the floor.

Kate frowned in puzzlement. "Approved? Of…pink roses?"

He nodded, a little choked all of a sudden, the weight of the day bearing down on him in one great helter-skelter of emotion. "Yeah, the roses, and…you. She liked you, Kate."

This comment struck her as odd, given how things had turned out with their trip to the Hamptons, the argument in the car that seemed in part to be about her, and then the crash itself.

Castle must have seen her puzzled expression and, as usual, read her mind.

"That must sound strange, I know. Given…everything."

Kate waited, allowing him space to elaborate if he wanted to instead of closing down a discussion she felt bordered on the uncomfortable. Eventually, continue he did.

"I don't want to sound presumptuous here or like I'm some big catch, but…"

He caught Kate trying to suppress a sudden smile, since that's exactly what he thought of himself when she first met him, and it's almost exactly how he propositioned her when he asked her to join him in the Hamptons: regaling her with tales of his wonderful, beachside home, the azure pool, a chance to work on her tan. Kate in a swimsuit...or nothing, if she preferred.

"Don't give me that look," he chided, choking back a startled laugh of his own.

"Self-depreciating isn't usually your style, Castle, you have to admit."

"Okay, maybe. In the past. But I'm a changed man." He rubbed at his neck, awkward even as he confessed to her part in his redemption. "I already told you. You're remaking me, Beckett."

She grinned, eyebrows cocked with a hint sauce and fun. "So…you're really saying this is my fault?"

He regarded her soberly, the only suggestion of teasing the glint in his eye. "It's to your credit that I'm…not as big of an ass as I used to be."

I rather like your ass, she wanted to tell him. But given they were still talking about Gina, it didn't seem quite the moment to bring that up. She would save it for another, more appropriate time.

"Then I will take that as a compliment."

"Anyway, Gina. She said that if she was going to lose me to anyone, she'd rather it was you."

Oh.

Kate frowned at the same moment her face and chest flooded with color. The pulse in her neck began the thrum. "She said that?"

Castle nodded, his gaze on her face watchful, wary, as if he expected her to ask him to leave instead of looking for clarification. For more. "In a lucid, calm moment, yeah."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "She admired you, Kate. She thought you were intelligent, that you had class and guts. She saw you as a good influence on me, I think. Inspiring me to write a profitable new book series didn't hurt either."

Kate smiled. "Yeah, that's kind of what Paula said today."

"Look, I'm sorry about Paula. Believe me we will be having—"

"Don't fire her, please?" Kate cut in.

That was Castle's turn to frown in puzzlement. "You're standing up for Haas? After what she said to you today? Why?"

"Because she did have a point or two that was worth listening to."

You know he's in love with you.

"And she's loyal to you. Last thing you need right now is more upheaval on the work front. Things at Black Pawn are going to be strange enough with Gina suddenly gone."

Castle tipped his head to one side, observing Kate like you might look at a precious, priceless display in a museum case. "Gina was right. You are really smart."

"And you're just realizing this?" she smirked. Her delight at his compliment was evident in her one girlish tell: the coquettish way she toyed with a lock of hair as if she was Rapunzel, her golden locks trailing the floor, and not Detective Kate Beckett, she of the no-nonsense shoulder length bob.

"Now who's abandoned self-depreciation?"

Kate smiled, dropping her head to gaze at the floor for a second before she looked up again, tucking her hair back behind her ear as she did so.

"I should probably go," said Castle, that reluctance still there in his tone and in the firm plant of his feet on the wooden floor.

"Yeah, before you take root out in my hallway," joked Kate, flashing him a smile.

"So…I will see you at work in six weeks time, detective?" he said, bravely sticking out his hand to shake hers.

This was so not him – walking away for six weeks without a backward glance - and she knew what it was costing him not to push her into something before she looked like she was ready.

Kate took his hand in her own slender grip, finding it instantly warm and all encompassing, and she shook it. Once their handshake was over, she failed to let go for several seconds more, only releasing him when it became too awkward to hold on anymore. Castle gave her a slightly quizzical look and then he nodded once and turned to leave.

"Listen, I was thinking," she said, loud enough to stop him just a few steps away.

He pivoted back to face her immediately, the ball of his leather-soled shoe scraping against the well-worn wooden boards in the hallway of the old apartment building.

"Yeah?" he said with such hope that the actual words might have been "Anything, I'll do anything".

"If you get bored recuperating…or you just want to hangout sometime…" She smiled in response to the growing grin she observed breakout on Castle's face as she spoke.

"I would love that."

Kate looked relieved a hundred different ways. She let out an unintentionally loud breath and pressed one hand flat over her heart, which was thumping vigorously beneath her t-shirt.

"Are…are you nervous?" Castle asked, approaching her door once more to get a closer look at her. "Kate, did you think for one second I would turn down a chance to spend more time with you?"

Her teeth were almost piercing her lower lip when she looked up at him, feeling small and slight and entirely too young in her leggings and bare feet before this dark, manly edifice in a smart suit and tie.

"I told you before, I'm not good at doing the running. That's why I fumbled accepting your invitation to the Hamptons."

"Then let me make this easy for you. I would be delighted to spend time with you, Kate Beckett. Any and all time you can spare."

Kate laughed, relief still flooding out in every in and exhale she made.

"Clear enough for you?"

"Yes," she smiled, grateful and relieved. "Very clear."

"So…you'll call me when space opens up in your schedule?"

"I will do that. I promise."

"Good."

Castle stepped in close, hovered for a second, serious blue eyes roaming her pale face, and then before she knew what was happening he lightly cupped her jaw and leaned down to kiss her cheek. The feather-light caress of his lips on her skin left her closed-eyed and breathless.

"Speak soon, detective. Take care," he added, backing away, just an eyelash flutter of a moment later.

Once Kate had recovered enough to open her eyes, she called after him, "Thank you. You too," still watching as he headed down the hallway with sure, steady strides, and then turned right into the stairwell. A flash of his good hand in a parting wave and a jauntier bounce to his walk were her twin rewards before he disappeared from view.

She called him the very next day.

"How do you feel about mussels?" she asked, fingers crossed on the hand that dangled free by her side.

However what Castle actually heard was: How do you feel about muscles?

"Eh…I feel like this might be a trick question. Did Esposito ask you to ask me this? Because we were arguing about the possibility of developing an eight pack a while back, and Javi claimed—"

Kate snorted…loudly. "The only eight pack Esposito's likely to see is in a liquor store, the way he's been going at Lanie's cooking lately."

This was Castle's turn to laugh, a joyous sound that had Kate grinning from ear to ear.

"So…why the question about muscles? Have you been hitting the gym since I went away? Not that you need to, I must stress."

"Castle, stop. Not those kind of muscles. I mean mussels-mussels," she chuckled.

"What? Oh, you mean moules?"

"Oui, les moules. Précisément."

"Hot damn. Say that again. Oh, please? And whatever it is, I'm in if you promise to keep speaking French to me over the phone."

Kate giggled. "There's a new moules-frites place just opened down my block. I wondered if you wanted to grab dinner?"

"Ask me in French and it's a oui-oui from me."

"No need for the French. You just gave me my answer."

"Kate?" he whined.

She sighed in happy resignation, feigning put-upon. "Veux-tu dîner avec moi, s'il te plaît? Tu peux manger d'une seule main. Donc c'est parfait avec ton bras cassé."*

Silence on the line.

"Castle? You still there?"

A gasp of air was followed by a coughing fit. "Sorry. Yeah. I'm still thinking about your bra," he confessed to loud laughter from Kate.

"Ton bras cassé," she repeated patiently. "It means your broken arm."

"Aww, Beckett. Don't ruin my fantasy with your disappointing, academic translation. And to be clear, that's the fantasy where you whisper to me in French about your underwear."

Kate bit her lip to stop from laughing. "Would you rather I lied to you?"

"Lying is such an ugly word. I prefer the far prettier term 'humor the invalid'."

Kate made a scoffing sound. "In your dreams, Castle. So…you up for dinner or not?" she asked, all business again to hide her nervousness at putting herself out there with him, and so soon too.

And that was how it started – a long series of dinners: one-handed forked meals or finger-food eaten out in small neighborhood places, takeout ordered in or recipes cooked from scratch at his loft or at her apartment. They ate together several nights a week and during those meals she shared the details of her cases with him, sought his counsel and divulged concerns about difficult interviews, missing witnesses, and a slew of canvasses that turned up only blind-eyes, deaf ears and even more dead ends.

They slipped into something of a routine, seamlessly and without even noticing. Eating dinner together became something they expected to do. There was no big, boundary-crossing event, save for Kate's first brave phone call asking him out for moules-frites at the new Belgian place down the block. And without the discomfort and directness of an "are you asking me on a date" moment, this new development came to them easily.

After dinner they would walk for a while if eating out, chatting, sharing stories of growing up in the city, on a couple of occasions only blocks away from one another. And on nights when they ate at home after making dinner together, Kate and Alexis or Kate and Martha would handle the dishes while Castle busied himself finding them a movie to watch, always searching out a film that would grab Kate's attention in particular, something interesting or entertaining enough that it would detain her a while longer so that the evening would be slow to come to an end.

During this time they began to rely on one another too. Castle shared even more of his concerns about Alexis than he had in the past: seeking Kate's advice on teenage girl issues, study choices, dating, soliciting stories from her college years to scare himself half to death about a time he knew would be arriving all too soon. Kate talked a little about her dad: about her concerns for his long-term health as a result of the damage he had done to his body by drinking so hard in the years after her mother's death. She sought his opinion as to whether her father, or any man, could ever be happy alone, since he had made no attempt to find female companionship in the long and growing period of his widowhood. No topic, it seemed, was too personal to remain off-limits.

They learned how to be comfortable alone in each other's company, since Martha and Alexis often excused themselves to go to bed or simply weren't home on some of the evenings they spent together. Conversation flowed and any periods of quiet were enjoyed rather than endured. They had discovered a new rhythm and made it their own.

By the time Castle stopped by the precinct one morning, about three weeks into his recuperation, replete with one-handed coffee tray and a dangerously dangled bag of pastries for everyone, there was enough of shift in their relationship that the boys noticed the development immediately. Kate and Castle, having slipped into it over time, did not.

"Remember you have PT at…yeah, it's 4.30 today," Kate reminded the writer, after looking down to consult her own desk calendar while Castle happily munched on a bear claw at her desk, liberally spilling crumbs as he ate untidily, having only one good hand to spare for the task.

"Yes, ma'am," he saluted, beaming his gratitude while Kate wordlessly gathered and disposed of the crumbs littering the surface of her desk with one of the paper napkins from Castle's bag of goodies.

"Bear claws are definitely a two-handed snack," noted Castle, as a final shower of puff pastry accompanied his last bite, re-coating the edge of Kate's desk with small specks of flaky Danish and almond paste.

Kate patiently collected this new smattering of crumbs without comment, only to add, "Sorry I can't take you today. We're up to our eyes in 'who killed Jerry Maguire'."

When Castle gave her a quizzical look she added, "Sports agent. Discovered shot through the temple as he sat in the back of his own car."

"Oooo, sounds great. Fill me in over dinner? I got some new season summer squash and fresh field peas at the Greenmarket this morning. I can fry the steaks if you chop the veg?"

Ryan and Esposito gathered in a huddle by the murder board. They were positioned in such a way that they half hidden behind the rolling screen, which still left enough of an open vista with which to observe their boss and the writer, who seemed pretty oblivious to anything but their own conversation anyway.

"Would you listen to mom and dad?" whispered Ryan, observing the complaint-free crumb clearance Kate was indulging in for the second time, along with the relaxed manner in which Castle lounged in the chair by her desk: one leg thrown over the opposite knee, slouched back in his seat, not exactly flirting, but definitely a whole lot more comfortable with one another than the last time they had faced off in the precinct together. The fateful day Gina had shown up.

"Yo! Ross and Rachel," blurted Esposito, earning himself a sharp elbow-jab to the ribs from Ryan.

"What'd you do that for?" hissed Ryan, disappointed to have their secret observance of their boss and her shadow ended by Esposito's big mouth.

"Say what now?" asked Castle, standing and stretching.

He collected up the cardboard coffee tray, replaced the empty cups in their slots and balled up the paper bag ready for the trash.

Castle gestured to the break room. "I'll go ditch these in there and be off," he told Kate, who also seemed oblivious to Esposito's little dig.

"Thanks, Castle. For the coffee break and for stopping by. Broke up the day," she told him, reaching out to touch his elbow in thanks.

"You're welcome. So…just come over whenever you're ready. I should be back by six," he offered, his back turned to the boys once more. "It'll just be the two of us tonight. So I was thinking maybe Blue Valentine? Since Alexis isn't home and my mother won't be there to offer any embarrassing running commentary?"

Kate grinned and nodded her head to the suggestion, while Esposito watched this domestic-looking scene in utter amazement.

"So…are you guys…?"

They both turned to face him, perfectly in sync.

"Coooool!" breathed Ryan, a broad, impressed grin full of wonder splitting his face.

"What?" asked Kate, frowning at Esposito.

"You know. Like…together?" he asked, waving his hand between them.

"Two co-workers can't have dinner together without it meaning— Just what are you suggesting, Javi?" snapped Kate.

He shook his head, looking unconvinced as he mumbled, "Nothin'."

Castle wandered off to the break room as planned to get rid of their trash, while Kate returned to the DD5 she had been filling out when the writer had arrived unexpectedly. Esposito followed Castle into the break room, a slightly troubling fact that Kate did not miss. She quietly simmered as she tried to focus on her report. But Castle was a big boy. He could deal with Esposito's nosy enquiries without her help. It still took a whole lot of resolve to keep her in her seat.

"Yo, Castle. So how's the arm healing, man?" Esposito asked, as he sidled inside.

Castle dumped the coffee cups in the trashcan and spun around, surprised by the question since he believed himself to be alone. "Oh, hey, Espo. Yeah, not bad," he replied, holding up his injured arm, safe in its functional brace. "Totally ready to lose this thing though. Stops you doing so much."

"Oh, yeah? Like what?" asked Esposito, clearly with an agenda.

"Well…lot's of stuff. Anything that needs two arms or two hands, I guess," Castle explained with a one-shouldered shrug.

He watched Esposito glance out towards the bullpen, most likely checking the whereabouts of his boss, and he got a strong feeling that something more personal was coming.

Esposito turned his back on the door, thumbing over his shoulder as he spoke to leave Castle in no doubt who he was talking about. "She was drinking tea within a day of you leaving for the Hamptons, bro. She tell you that?"

Castle shrugged. "So Beckett sometimes drinks tea. What's the big deal?"

"No, I mean like she gave up coffee…totally. Like swore off the stuff."

Castle frowned, puzzled on two fronts – why Kate would do that, since she loved coffee so much, and why Esposito thought it was important for him to know this, considering she'd clearly returned to her old coffee drinking ways. He gave it another second or two's thought, watching Esposito for clues. The detective's face bore an expression that said Castle should be able to work this one out for himself, and that he, Javi, was just biding his time for the ah-ha moment.

Wait. Castle swallowed hard. Women usually gave up coffee when they were…

Oh shit. No. Not with Demming? Is that why they had really broken up?

Esposito watched something sink in as Castle's expression slowly changed - the light dimmed in his eyes, his features hardened, he looked close to panic - and then Esposito nodded, as if to confirm the conclusion Castle had just arrived at for himself.

"So…why is she back drinking coffee?" Castle asked, wary of the answer.

"Best ask her yourself," Espo offered cryptically. "I'm just sayin', man. She took it hard. She was a mess those first couple of weeks and then—"

Castle's mind was whirring. Esposito's behavior at the hospital had been odd, even hostile at times. Kate had seemed tired and pale too. He'd put that down to the long hours stuck indoors by his bedside. But in truth he had been in no clear-minded position to judge anything. What if there had been something else, something she didn't think she could share with him. All the closeness they had gained since the funeral, or that he believed they had achieved, would be based on a lie or a truth withheld at best.

He checked his watch, ignoring the white noise of Esposito's continued drone, and then he left the break room in a hurry.

Kate looked up from her desk the second he emerged, such a lovely, open smile on her face. He caught a glimpse of the paused trailer for the movie they had planned to watch tonight still open on her computer screen.

"Blue Valentine looks…something," she said, raising her eyebrows to indicate "adult" or some other description for NC-17 she wasn't prepared to say in the middle of the bullpen.

"Yeah. See you later," Castle vaguely mumbled, trailing his hand over the back of her chair without touching her as he made his way out to the elevator.

Kate stood, turning to watch him walk away. "Castle? Everything okay?"

He raised his hand in a parting wave, but didn't turn around or stop or add anything else. He just carried on walking like a one-armed zombie, lost in his own world when he pressed the button and then entered the elevator as the doors slid open like magic before him.

Kate turned back towards the break room, utterly baffled, only to find Esposito lounging up against the doorframe with an enigmatic expression on his face. She narrowed her eyes, watching as her fellow detective stared back at her, the unreadable fix of his features still in place.

"What did you do?" asked Kate, an unfamiliar feeling beginning to gnaw at the pit of her stomach, fear making her insides clench. "Javi, what the hell did you do?"

TBC...

Note: "Veux-tu dîner avec moi, s'il te plaît? Tu peux manger d'une seule main. Donc c'est parfait avec ton bras cassé."*

Translation: "Please have dinner with me? You can eat one-handed. So it's perfect for your broken arm."