Two weeks slipped by. No word. No calls. Not even a text.

It was harder now. Before, she'd had the small, strange comfort of knowing he was mad at her. After seeing him, seeing what she had done, what she had ruined, killed her. Now, it was as if she were waiting for the other shoe to drop, for everything to implode and shatter in its fragile state.

It was agonizing and she had a hard time concentrating on cases, feeling like she was missing something, like there was something she should do.

She was getting a fresh dose of caffeine when she stopped. It clicked. Of course. He wanted her to push. Because that's what they did: push and pull, poke and prod. Silence was their poison. Space was their enemy. Timing—their utter downfall.

She needed to see him.


She'd brought the cup, though she's not entirely sure why. Maybe as a peace offering of sorts or as an unconscious message screaming I love you. She knocked, nervous butterflies swarming in her stomach. She waited. No one came.

It was a Friday night; he was probably out with his family. She didn't like to think of the alternative. A brief picture of a busty blonde draped on his arm flashed before her eyes. Ugh. Ok. Calm, Kate, she told herself. This isn't bad. Just leave him a note. Words.

Words were their foundation, where they connected with verbal sparring, coy remarks, and scribbled love notes. Novels and stories spun around their unorthodox partnership; a romance borne of words. Ironically, a lack of them also tore them apart. She searched her pockets for a scrap of paper and pen. She found some, an old habit of being a writer's girlfriend she thought wryly. She penned something from her heart, honest and direct.

Someone once told me putting the job ahead of my heart is a mistake. Good advice. If only I'd listened, then I probably wouldn't have broken us. We weren't perfect. We had problems. But Castle we were great. Still can be. We can't be 'fixed' but maybe we can find ourselves again: together. I've already wasted time. I'm pushing, Rick. I'm missing my partner. Please.

She curled up the note, placing it inside the cup and set it in front of the door. She took a deep breath and left. It was something—a start.

But they were far from the finish line.


The first day she wanted to rush back to the loft and take the note back. Tell it to him herself.

The second day she was afraid he hadn't seen it. Why didn't he call her? Was she supposed to call him?

The third day she nearly gave up hope until she walked into the precinct.

His booming laughter pierced the air and she snapped her head to see him sitting in his chair, surrounded by the boys.

He's here. He's here! Her heart was rejoicing wildly and she was sure a big, dopey grin was painted on her face, but she didn't care. He was here.

As she approached him, the boys grew silent and he finally, finally, tilted his gaze to meet her. His grin fell, but his eyes drank her in, sipping at her disheveled appearance and tasting her expression.

He looked good. He'd shaved and was wearing a sport's jacket, which clung to his broad chest. He looked really good. She noticed something in the corner of her eye: the blue coffee cup. Tendrils of steam curled away from the hot coffee, and her heart swelled. Maybe there was hope.

The boys scampered, sensing they were interrupting a private moment.

"Hey," she exhaled breathlessly.

"Hi," he returned, a small smile playing at his lips.

"You look good."

"Alexis said I was starting to smell."

"I don't know, I kind of liked the five o'clock shadow look, very rugged."

He grinned, but it didn't reach his eyes and she noticed the bags underneath them. He looked tired, exhausted even. She knew it couldn't have been easy for him to come back after the way she'd treated him.

"So...I pushed."

"You pushed."

"And you're here."

"I'm here." He stared at her calmly. It was almost infuriating, but she pushed, and he came. The ball was in her court. Her turn.

"Thank you."

"Nothing to it," he said glibly, sucking in a breath and breaking out a strained smile. She bit her lip, then, not knowing what to say. All the waiting and thinking about them and suddenly she forget what she was supposed to say.

She traced her fingers around the rim of her coffee cop, moving to wrap them around the curved handle. It felt like a piece of home. She took a sip of the coffee he'd made for her, savoring the rich, warm feel of it sliding down her throat.

"Oh god, that's the stuff," she moaned quietly, her eyes fluttering.

Castle stared at her, his eyes flashing with a sudden want. She caught his heated gaze and warmth coiled in her abdomen, burning for his touch. She coughed, setting her cup down, pressing down the urge to kiss him senseless.

"We should talk. Observation?" she suggested.

"Observation." He acquiesced, moving quickly from his chair.

She stopped by Ryan's desk, quietly asking him if he could make sure no one walked in on them. Ryan nodded, barely concealing his knowing smile.

"Shut up," she whispered loudly at his suggestive glance. "We're just going to talk."

"Is that what the cool kids are calling it these days?"

"Just keep a look-out, Honeymilk."

She snickered softly at his miffed expression.

She entered the dimly-lit Observation room and immediately spotted Castle's large form slouching in the corner.

The sharp click of the closing door startled both of them, interrupting the quiet silence. Beckett cleared her throat.

"Did you, uh, get my—"

"Note? Yeah." A crinkling sound followed his words as he extracted the note from his pocket, smoothing it over on his leg, his eyes quickly scanning her scrawl.

"I mean it. I want to work on us."

He looked at her like he wanted to believe her.

"How did we get here, Kate? "

"I messed up. I put you on the backburner and pursued my own future—"

"But you see, that's just it Kate. You. It's all about Kate. Your life, your future. When was I cut out of the picture?"

"You were always a part of the picture. I just—I'm selfish. I'm afraid. I push people away. I run. It's what I do. But I want to change, for you. I—"

"Kate—"

"No, let me finish. I've never loved someone so much as I do you. It's frightening. I want you all the time. I need you all the time. I am so scared something will happen to you, and if it does, I'll never be able to recover. And I don't know. Running away hurt, but I could live with the fact because you were safe. I could stop hurting you because you were alive. I know that sounds stup—"

His lips were on her before she could finish. His hands cupped her face gently, his mouth caressing hers with tenderness, utterly destroying her.

She clung to him, deepening the kiss, letting herself go.

He pulled away all too quickly, leaving her gasping for air. He pushed her away as if burned.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

Her heart stopped. "Why?"

His face hardened. "I was just caught up in the moment."

"Rick, I'm trying really hard here. I want this to work. I want to be happy. You make me happy."

"Then why did you leave?"

"Because I didn't want to hurt you. I wanted you to be saf—"

"Too late, Beckett. And we both know that's not why you left."

"It was part of the reason."

"Ok, what's the rest of it?"

"I was so mad, Castle. You proposed and said you'd follow me. You said no matter what, you would go wherever I chose. We had a huge fight and I don't even remember anymore who said what, but I left…and you didn't follow me."

"But how—"

"I assumed you didn't want anything to do with me. I concentrated on the job—took every spare minute throwing myself into a case."

"Kate, I didn't—"

"Bracken, Rick. I want to bring him down. This was my chance. I had more power, more leverage, and more avenues of investigation. I don't want to keep looking over my shoulder and fearing for the lives of the people I care about. For the people I love."

His expression softened, but he looked away.

"Kate, how am I supposed to trust you anymore? How can I know that you won't just pick up and leave because you don't know what you want? How can I know you won't hurt me again?" His fears spooled from him, leaving her dizzy.

"You can start by trusting me again. By believing that I love you, Rick. You can start by being my partner, and I'll be yours."

"Kate, there's nothing I'd like more, but—"

"But what?"

"I don't know what I want anymore."

Her heart dropped into her stomach. Everything inside her shattered, an icy feeling running through her veins.

"Castle, do you lo…" she trailed off, too afraid to put it too words, afraid of what he might answer, dread leeching through her.

His eyes were unreadable, her note clenched in his hand.

"Kate, I love you with every fiber of my being, but maybe that's my mistake. I can't live my life without you. What does that make me? Weak? A writer without his muse?"

Tears threatened to choke her. She was so relieved, but his words sliced through her. Loving her was his mistake?

"Castle, how can you even say that? You're the strongest person I know. You push me when no one can. I only feel safe with you having my back. I came back because I know now that I can't live without you either. It doesn't make you weak. It makes me weak because I was too scared of forever. You're the only person I'd do it with, but I was scared out of my mind."

"Why?"

"Because I wasn't ready. Hell, we'd been having problems; I didn't feel needed from you. It was all so mixed up because we didn't talk. How were we supposed to start a life together when I wasn't sure?"

"We'd have made it work. Because that's what we do."

"I realize that now," she said softly.

She looked at him, full of regret, her eyes pleading.

He sighed, raking his hands through his hair, avoiding her gaze.

"Rick—"

"I need a few days to think about it, Kate," he said.

Her heart pounded. No. No, he couldn't leave.

"Work this case with me," she blurted.

His eyes widened, but sparked with interest.

"Ok," he agreed hesitantly.

"Yeah?" she breathed hopefully.

"Yes," he replied, a small smile sprouting on his lips.

"Partners?" she asked, holding her hand out for a shake.

His warm hand slipped into her hers, reassuring and soft.

"Partners."


A/N: Thoughts?