Author's Note: So the good news is that I'm racing the clock to finish posting chapters before I leave on vacation, meaning updates will be almost every day now. The bad news is that I may not have time to reply to reviews. But please know that I do love hearing your thoughts.

Chapter 25

"Did I do something?"

She sits up in surprise, dislodging Castle's arms from around her in the process and they fall to his lap. "What?"

"To start all of this," Castle clarifies, gesturing at nothing in particular. "Did I do something?"

Kate hesitates, shakes her head unconvincingly.

"What was it?"

"It's not important," she replies, self-conscious about bringing it up. Especially now, after all he's done to prove his love, his commitment. In retrospect, it seems so petty.

"Yes it is," he assures her. "Your feelings are always important, Kate."

She doesn't say anything right away, but when she does speak, it's not at all what he's expecting.

"The night I showed up at your door," she begins, "do you remember how you kissed me?"

Castle nods. As if he could ever forget any part of that night. It's burned into his brain forever. Her hands cradling his jaw, her warm body against his, the taste of rain on her skin, the heavenly sounds that fell from her lips as he explored her body with abandon.

"When I was on suspension," she continues, "it was like that all the time. Like you couldn't get enough of me."

"I can't," he interjects, voice low and honest. "I never can."

"At some point, it stopped feeling like that," Kate admits. She shakes her head sadly, drops her eyes to the floor.

"I never stopped wanting you, Kate," Castle assures her gently. "Just because it wasn't up-against-the-door intensity all the time..." He trails off as he sees her still shaking her head. Apparently he's missing something here.

"It's not that."

"Then what?"

She lifts her chin again, eyes steely. "You fought for me for four years, Castle. And then you had me and it was like you stopped fighting."

"I didn't want to push," he explains, as though it's obvious.

She can't help the laugh that escapes her. "Since when? God, you pushed and prodded for years. And I'm glad you did," she adds when he opens his mouth, poised to protest. "But why stop now?"

"Because I had you," he admits on a sigh. "And I didn't want to lose you by pushing too hard."

"You wouldn't have."

Castle raises an eyebrow, disbelieving. "Do you know how many times – before now – that I've wanted to ask you to move in?" A shake of her head. "It's been months, Kate. I can't even remember when it first crossed my mind, but if I'd asked you six months ago, what would have happened?"

"I..." she trails off. Okay, yeah, she would have bolted.

"I figured I'd just do things at your pace. It worked before, right?"

"But you still pushed, Castle. Even if I was holding us back, you were still fighting against that."

He sighs, remembering the determination with which he butted up against her walls, time and time again. He'd fought because she was worth it. But it hadn't occurred to him that he'd have to keep fighting once those walls came down. He thinks back to his mother's words, her implications that he was holding back. And yes, maybe she'd been right. Maybe he was holding back. But he'd thought the ring was enough to counteract that.

Then again, it never has been that simple.

"Castle," Kate prompts gently, jarring him from his thoughts.

"I, uh, yeah," he stammers, forcing the words to form into sentences. "I guess you're right. I stopped. But it wasn't because I stopped wanting you. God, Kate, that could never happen."

"Then why?"

"Because you've always liked to lead," he answers truthfully. "I so I followed."

Truth be told, he was perfectly content to continue on that way. And maybe that was where he'd gone wrong.

Kate dips her head again, hair falling to conceal her face, but Castle is having none of it. He extends an arm, gently tilts her chin back up, and when she meets his eyes again, he tenderly tucks the errant strands back into place before dropping his hand.

She catches it on its descent, envelops it in her own, her fingers warm and tender against his skin. "Will you, um," she begins shyly, blinking up at him through her lashes. "Will you start pushing again?"

"You want me to get down on one knee right now and ask again, because..."

"Not like that," she interrupts, though her eyes are light and there's a barely concealed smile twitching at the corners of her lips. "Just...maybe I'm just being insecure, but..."

"No."

Castle halts her words before she can continue that train of thought, eyes deep and serious, because he understands now what she's asking of him. He couldn't comprehend at first how she could ever possibly feel unwanted, feel as though he's not absolutely, madly in love with her. But he sees it now, sees that perhaps he misread some of the signs, missed the cues she was sending him; the ones that projected her need for direction, for reassurance. He remembers also how he clung to the little things, the smiles, the touches, the promise in her words or even in her eyes. It was how he knew they were headed the right direction. How he knew she was falling for him.

"You're not," he continues, with a shake of his head. It's not insecure. Or maybe it is. But either way, he can't fault her for it when he's felt same way. "I understand. It's nice to feel wanted."

She nods, so relieved he understands her. "Yeah."

He extracts his hand from her grasp, lifts both arms to cradle her jaw, and captures her lips in a deep kiss.

"Kate," he murmurs against her, breath warm against her lips.

"Hmmm?"

"I'm sorry for holding back."

She kisses him softly in acceptance.

"And I always want you."

Her eyes drop pointedly to his crotch and she's about to make a teasing comment, but before she can, his lips are on hers again, and it's intense and passionate and everything that she loves about this man wrapped into the gesture.

Kate feels herself giving into him instantly, limbs weak, her body putty in his hands as she clings to his arms, holding him close. She loves that Castle is easy-going, a calm presence when she needs it, loosening her up when she becomes too uptight. She needs that balance in her life. But she loves when he takes charge, too. Loves when he goes after what he wants, fights for it, doesn't stop.

Loves when he takes control.

Maybe she hasn't been very good about conveying that, instead allowing her natural strong personality to take over. And she certainly hasn't said anything to that effect until just now. But words never have been her strong point.

So she shows him instead.

When his hands slide beneath the hem of her shirt, she sits back and lets him strip the garment from her skin. When he lays her back onto the sofa, she goes willingly, sinking into the cushions. When he strips her bare, worships her body, she relaxes into it, doesn't push, doesn't urge him for more and faster and I need you right now. She lets him take his time, lips and tongue bringing her over the edge and back down again.

And when he divests himself of the rest of his clothing, settles down on top of her, she doesn't flip them, doesn't wrap her legs around him to guide his movements as she so often does. She lets him set the pace, content to allow him to be in control.

It's slow and gentle and the love in his eyes is almost more than she can take, but it's also completely overwhelming and amazing when her walls begin to flutter around him, a slow build culminating in an exquisite release.

He breathes his love into her skin as he collapses on top of her, and smiles dazedly, the edges of his mind shrouded in bliss.

Castle can't remember the last time Kate didn't try to take the lead, at least in some form. Probably not since the last time he cuffed her to the bed, and even then she was lifting her hips, locking her ankles behind his thighs and driving them forward. He hadn't even realized until today that they'd fallen into this pattern, wasn't aware of exactly when he started holding back, content to allow her to take the reins.

He's not complaining. Not really. He loves that she's so take-charge, strong and confident and driven in all aspects of life. It's one of the things he loves about her. But knowing that she trusts him so thoroughly to completely relinquish control – he didn't realize how badly he needed that reassurance until tonight.

He grins into her hair at the thought, absolutely overwhelmed with it all. She wants him to take the lead. Wants him to do so more often, in fact. And oh, how he's missed that spicy back-and-forth that defined so much of their relationship since the day they met – him pushing and prodding, her pretending to be annoyed with it while secretly, slowly, finding herself giving in to it. They thrived on that.

They need that back in their lives.

Almost as though she's reading his mind, Kate sighs happily, lips open at his neck. "I've missed this."

He fumbles for a blanket, tosses it over the top of them as sleep slowly pulls him under. "I have too."

She wakes to the quiet clicking of keys beneath nimble fingertips, blinks open her eyes to find the room dim, illuminated only by the light drifting in from the kitchen and the luminescence of his computer screen. Castle is deep in concentration, brow furrowed, mouth moving as he silently dictates the story he's trying to tell, as though he's testing out the words on his lips as they span out across the page.

She's not sure how long she's been asleep, nor how long he's been awake, but she must have really needed the nap, because he managed to untangle their bodies, settle in at the end of the sofa, and toss her legs over his lap, computer resting on her shins, all without waking her.

Only once she points her toes, extends her arms to stretch, does he become aware of her wakefulness, and he peels his eyes from the screen to find a sleepy, sated Kate gazing up at him.

"Hey," she murmurs, voice rough with sleep still. Her hair is a wild mass of curls, make-up a bit smudged around her eyes from having her face pressed into a pillow. She looks deliciously rumpled and he feels it curl low in his abdomen.

Castle saves the document, sets his laptop aside, reaches for her. "Hey."

She presses up onto her elbows and the blanket slips down, leaving her bare from the waist up. She automatically jerks it back over her, blocking out the cool air of the room, but not before Castle's eyes lock on her chest, lingering even after she's no longer exposed. His eyes are dark, but it's more than lust and arousal; it's a deep contentment that she sees there, a sense of peace.

"You okay?" Kate calls softly, and he sheepishly lifts his eyes to hers but she doesn't seem to mind in the least that he was staring.

"Mmmm, yeah."

She curls her legs, sits up the rest of the way, and reaches out to lay her free hand on his thigh.

"Castle."

"I'm good," he assures her, covering her hand with his own, fingers dipping into the gaps between hers. "Promise."

"Okay," she yields with a smile.

"I just...I like this." Kate lifts wide, dark eyes to his, eager and curious, drawn in by his words. "Having you here. Permanently. I've wanted this for so long."

She blinks hard, finds herself fighting back tears, because this – the way he's opening up, speaking his mind, standing up for what he wants – this is the part of him she's missed, the part of him that hasn't made many appearances in recent months.

And she knows now – knows that moving in was the right decision. Maybe she's afraid to face the unknown, and maybe she's still a bit unsure as to what lies ahead, and maybe they're still going to have to battle constantly to keep the lines of communication open. But Castle looks the happiest she's seen him in months, and it's because of her. Because she finally stopped fighting it.

Kate leans in, captures his lips in a gentle kiss, feels him smile into it. And in that moment, she makes a promise to herself – to just let it happen. To do everything in her power to keep alive the light that shimmers in his eyes.

And to show him and tell him, every single day, how much she loves him.

Thoughts?