Author's notes: Finally, WHAT'S ON THE NOTE?

Before you read this you should know that this was the hardest chapter to write. Every chapter I write seems to be longer than the last but this one really is the longest ever because I wrote the first part over a week ago and wrote the rest this week. I did it that way (sorry it took so long!) because I felt like I had to distance myself from my writing for awhile to get a better perspective as I felt a little lost. Plus, I couldn't believe I wrote a chapter about Castle making breakfast so, well, I obviously had to add more!

Your reviews, alerts, favourites and just the simple fact that you guys are reading this means SO much. I especially love it when you guys tell me specific lines or things that you like. Thank you.

Not a great deal happens in this chapter but it sets a few things up for future ones. I love Beckett's apartment so things got a little out of hand…I hope it's not too boring.

I don't like this chapter at all. Sorry.

Sprawled in an uncomfortably upright position with his head hanging so far over the back of the couch that anyone watching would have thought he might tip it, Richard Castle slept. He did not dream of sweet nothings, but the nightmares that usually woke him in the middle of the night did not come either. A balanced level between the contrasting two were where his unconscious mind wandered; the face of his daughter, their light saber battles, bat mobiles and, of course, his muse. Kate's face rarely flooded his dreams as a full picture. He only ever saw snippets of it at a time; her eyes, her smile, the tiny freckle beneath her eye, the organic curve of her cheek bones which reminded him of a Ferrari.

These snippets morphed into a scene which he recognised as a memory from what felt like long ago. Beckett was standing next to him at the front door of a suspect's house. Her fist drummed against the solid timber with such wrath that he thought she might knock it off its hinges. He did not remember the feeling of wanting her to stop knocking when it had actually happened, but in his dreaming state there was nothing he wanted more. She yelled "Open the door!" and Castle awoke with a start. It was not his detective knocking. Someone was actually at the front door.

He jumped to his feet quickly, unsure of exactly how long they had been knocking; the dream sequence had felt like it took at least five minutes. The man discovered that speed was not an acquaintance this morning as the stiffness that had built in his back on the couch through the night made him hobble. His mind was too set on trying to look awake in case the knocker was paparazzi to register that he was in Kate Beckett's apartment and that she was nowhere to be found.

Licking his sleep dried lips and running a hand through his ruffled hair, Castle opened the door. The idea of looking through the peep hole first evaded him in his tired state as the knocker continued his impatient rhythm. In day old clothes that smelt of alcohol and cherries the writer stood in the door way looking at an equally unexpecting teenager. They stared at each other for a moment. The boy's hand was raised in a fist on a mission to knock the patience out of the sleepy writer but finally he dropped it, defeated.

"Got a package for a Mr Castle."

A box covered in postage stickers was lifted into the air between them and Rick reached for it expectantly, knowing only too well what it held. The kid pulled the box out of his reach before he could grab it and rip it open like he wanted to with the excitement that was growing where sleep faded.

"Dude, are you him?"

"Am I who?"

"The Castle guy?" This kid obviously didn't read.

"Yes, I'm him!" Castle grinned now, not caring about the ego deflation that would normally come with not being recognised in such a situation. The content of this package was much more important.

The human alarm clock shrugged. "Sorry man, I got told to give this to no one other than you." He handed over a clipboard for Castle to sign. "Must be some package, huh? What'd you buy, a collector's item off ebay or something?"

Rick laughed as he handed the clipboard back. "Something like that." The guy allowed him to take the box and he stared down at it in his hands with awe. "Thanks!"

The reply of "No probs, man." as the delivery guy made his way back down the hall was barely heard over the excitement rushing through Castle's brain. It was here finally, and just in time too.

Without taking his eyes away from the box, which was being turned over in inspection in both hands, he stepped back into the apartment and swung the door shut with his foot. It was not until then that the realisation of being fully clothed from last night hit him. The confession which had taken place on her couch that he settled back onto with the box flooded his memories and the man smiled slightly. Kate Beckett, the woman of steel, had opened up to him.

At the thought of her, Rick momentarily forgot about the package that sat staring expectantly up at him from the coffee table in front of the couch. It could wait. He'd already waited this long.

The fabric of the couch made an unusually loud noise as he slid from its surface once more. It only helped illuminate the fact that the apartment was completely still and quiet. With a quick glance down the hallway that led to her bedroom he saw that the door was open. He remembered falling to sleep with the steady rise and fall of her chest against his but he could not remember her extracting herself from him.

Had she already gone to work? He glanced down at the watch that ticked loudly at his wrist. 8AM. An unsettled feeling weighed his stomach down with the what ifs involving hit men and scenarios that should exist only between the covers of his novels.

He headed across to the kitchen to see if her keys were on the bench where she had chucked them last night with her phone. The phone was gone but the keys remained. The small selection of metal on her keychain was splayed out across a note of paper and his imagination played with the idea of robotic butterflies with the shape it made.

A scraping noise emerged from the butterfly as he slid it off the paper and onto the hard surface of the kitchen bench to reveal her pen work. Usually slopped letters that fell to paper from the quickly thinking mind of the detective sat a little straighter than normal. They had been written with careful consideration.

The warmth of his hand left a mark atop the cold bench when they made contact as he reached down to lift the paper. Rick read her neat scrawl with the carefulness of her characters in mind.

"Try not to embarrass Alexis today.
Lose these and I'll shoot you.

- KB."

Any unease he had felt about her whereabouts disappeared and a toothy smile spread across his stubbled face. Even if she would never admit it, he knew exactly how to translate the words of a guarded Beckett. What the note really meant was:

"Have a good time today.

I trust you with my house keys, don't disappoint me.

Forever yours, Katherine Beckett."

Castle chuckled at his own translation, thinking that the actual note was probably hinted with a touch of harsh reality; she probably would shoot him if he lost her keys. A subliminal message of 'thanks for being there last night' lingered in hopes of translation, but he dismissed it as his own feelings simply making their way into her words. The note found its way into the chest pocket of his button down, preserved above his heart.

A rumble escaped from the hole in his stomach which the unease had left and finding food became his mission. If he wasn't so hungry and, who was he kidding, if he wasn't so nosey he probably would have felt strange about looking through her kitchen cupboards. She wouldn't mind though, he was sure.

After a quick search of her kitchen he discovered that there wasn't much to snoop at anyway. The macaroni and cheese from the first night he had stayed still sat lonely on her shelf and the milk in her fridge sat beside the smallest margarine container he had ever seen. Then again, maybe the bareness of her shelves was a secret he shouldn't be looking at. It only fuelled him with more ammo, should she ever discover the true reason behind his visit.

Mac and cheese wasn't really an appropriate breakfast food. He'd done it before, but the packet of bread sitting beside the toaster on her bench caught his eye and he thought it would go nicely with the marmalade he had spotted on his search. The top piece of bread was pushed aside absently as Rick dug deeper in the packet for the next two. He didn't like eating the crust so Alexis always got left with it. It was on the stale side of things but he threw it into her toaster anyway, hoping that the cooking would mask it.

A work boot sat on her window sill above the sink as he moved to get a plate and he paused to look at the object that he hadn't noticed before. The blemishes covering the leather gave away its age and from the dirt that completely filled its insides a small cluster of purple flowers grew. It was an odd thing to find in a kitchen but the writer in him liked it; it had character. He wondered what the story behind the planter was and made a mental note to ask her about it now that she seemed to be letting those walls back down.

The toaster popped and he quickly fixed his breakfast, eager to get back to the box waiting for him on her coffee table. With one slice of toast held between his teeth and dripping marmalade onto his chin, Rick placed the plate beside the box and attempted to chew whilst ripping the tape open. A multi-tasker, he was not. The toast fell to his lap and left a wet mark on the thigh of his jeans which he wiped away before discarding the food back onto the plate. He wouldn't starve, but he might die of excitement if he didn't open the box!

The cardboard lid fell back without a sound and looking up at him was the shiny black surface of a batman suit. His teeth bit into the knuckles that had lifted to his mouth in awe and he simply sat there staring at the outfit, motionless. Today was going to be fantastic.

An unmeasurable amount of time passed as he stared at every fine detail of his purchase but he did not dare touch it with breakfast tarnished hands. Eating resumed as he reached for the television remote that had been tossed onto the coffee table. He pressed the ON button but nothing happened. He knew for a fact that his favourite cartoon was on right now. But the TV wouldn't turn on.

._._._._._._.

Beckett had arrived at the precinct with the lights on her dash flashing 6:27AM in the first light of the day. Although she always imagined that waking up in Richard Castle, famous author's arms would be a pleasant experience, she felt tense. The muscles across her shoulders pulled tight not only from the uncomfortable position they had slept in but also from the regret weighing down on her. Regret was not what she had expected, not even as she had been telling him about her nightmares, but it hung there nonetheless, heavy and ominous. Kate had always hated that part of herself. The annoying segment of her brain which wouldn't let her stand beside someone with both feet; wouldn't let her be happy. That was why Josh was gone. She hated it. It was just another scar she had acquired along the line.

Even with clearance to return to usual duties from Harrison, her doctor probably wouldn't think that hitting the gym hard would be a great idea. Kate did it anyway. Exercise had always been a release for her and she needed it. She wasn't stupid; she started off slow even though she would have been happy to hit the equipment hard and fast.

When the detective found herself bent over with sweat running down her neck towards the hand that clenched at her blasted scar, she finally stopped. Stupid bloody scar. It was the reason she was back at her desk by 7:30 when the rest of the precinct were either out on jobs or hadn't yet arrived for the day. Chemicals in her body began to cool as she sat staring aimlessly at the phone on the top of the desk. Her muscles burnt in a good way but her head was a mess. She was angry at herself. She was incapable. Incapable of working out. Incapable of expressing herself like a normal human being.

A breath of hot air escaped her lips with a low exasperated sound. What the hell was she doing? She shook her head and headed for the break room for a coffee. She could make coffee.

Lost in thought, Beckett stared at the empty cup in her hands. Had anything changed between her and Castle? Were they them again, or were they something different this time? She had hoped that they would have spoken about these things more openly since the fight when their kiss had been acknowledged. Of course though, it had never been addressed since. It wasn't until then that she realised that she hadn't turned the espresso machine on. Maybe she couldn't make coffee.

By 8 the usual bustle of the 12th had started to pick up. Ryan and Esposito had wandered in with their normal glances towards Harrison's office. They tried to act unaffected by her arrival, but from her observational position at her desk, Beckett knew they were. Montgomery's death had rocked them all on different levels.

In his memory, Monty swam laps around the castle in his tank as Kate watched, somewhat entranced by the goldfish. Life would be so much easier with a short memory span. A few flakes of food fell from her fingertips to the surface of the water. Why was she feeding the goldfish that he had bought? He should be here feeding it.

The detective had been having mixed feelings about Castle's absence today ever seen she'd woken in his arms. His being here to feed Monty was the latest excuse she had come up with in her head that justified the disappointment surrounding his absence.

She hoped he hadn't taken her note too seriously. Not after how kind he'd been the night before. He was frustratingly good at picking up on her subtext usually, but she'd never presented it to him in writing.

The phone Kate had been staring at earlier suddenly became animated and she grabbed for it quickly, hoping it would be a case that would get her away from these ridiculously jumbled thoughts in her head. Catching a glimpse of the caller ID, she paused. Castle.

With a low groan she let the phone continue to ring for a few more beats. She ignored the questioning stares from Ryan and Esposito from across the bullpen as her thoughts proceeded to ponder too much. How should she answer the phone? With the usual 'Beckett'? She didn't want to come off as too firm after last night. But Castle needed boundaries. Did she want those boundaries to exist?

"Hey." Simple, friendly and not too out of the norm. It would work.

"Hey." Castle responded with an oddly high pitch in his voice.

To hell with carefully constructed sentences. "What did you break?"

"Well technically I didn't touch it so I don't know if you can really say I broke it," The man's words came out in a rush that made him sound like a child in trouble. "But your T.V. won't turn on and I want to watch cartoons." She could hear the pout through the phone.

Although he couldn't see it, Beckett bit her lip and rested her head in her hand. "You broke my T.V.?"

"I'm sorry, I'll buy you a new one! Just wanted to let you know in case you got home before I did tonight. Which actually wouldn't work anyway considering I have your key…"

Before she could respond he heard a muffled voice in the background on her end of the phone.

"Hang on a sec, Castle."

The muffled voices were distorted through her hand covering the mouthpiece of the phone, but Rick could pick up the voice of his buddies. Beckett's voice was clearer than theirs, even through her hand.

In the incredibly girly voice that sometimes escaped her lips and made his eyes wrinkle at the corners, he heard her say, "No! I am not asking him that!"

After a few more seconds of hushed conversation that he could not properly hear, Beckett finally uncovered the mouth piece. She sounded a mix of amused, curious and embarrassed when she finally spoke.

"What are you wearing, Castle?"

His response was quick. "Why detective, it's a little early in the morning for dirty talk, don't you think?" It came out in a low and seductive voice which caused her to duck her head so that the boys wouldn't see the smile that spread across her face.

She came back fast and without the slightest trace of a smile in her voice. "I didn't think it'd ever be too early for a playboy like you, Ricky."

The silence that came next brought a laugh out of her and she openly admitted to herself for the first time that she wished he were there. Things hadn't changed between them. Not in a bad way anyway.

"Ryan and Esposito would like to know what you are wearing to the convention today."

Finally finding his words, the writer laughed as well. "Don't think you can use them to find out what shade of spandex I'm wearing."

The pause that came before she spoke let him know that he'd flustered her. "Shut up, Writer Boy."

Her hand covered the mouthpiece once more and he heard her tell the boys in a muffled voice to get back to work.

"Hey, Kate?"

"What?"

"I won't lose your keys."

The way he said it made her understand without a doubt that he had understood the underlying message. Keys were by no means an issue; she had a spare and could easily change her locks. He was vowing to not let her down, not hurt her.

"Thanks." Their conversation had turned serious and both sat in silence for a moment, absorbing what had been said, or rather, implied. The feeling that always comes when it is reaching the time to hang up flooded through both of them as they realised that this would have to be discussed further at another time. "Hey, Rick?"

"Yeah?"

"Try switching the T.V. on at the power point first." Kate never left it turned on at the wall. She was never home enough to watch it so she had never seen the point.

Author's Notes: Did the note live up to your expectations? Liked it? Didn't like it? Thought something else would have been better? Let me know! =)

Besides the obvious, I hope the breakfast part didn't suck too badly. I was attempting to show Castle's sporadic mind with flipping between food, boots, batman suits and T.V.

Also, random fun facts for you all:

I'm currently digging an Aussie band called the Cassette Kids but I accidentally keep referring to them as the Caskett Kids.

The species name of Spinifex Hopping Mice is alexis.

I just stumbled upon an old photograph from the 1800s on the Victoria Museum website and it has a woman named Kate Beckett who is the wife of a doctor named Tom.