Post Season 3 AU

The Conspiracy: Chapter 3

Rick could not wait for Friday and his weekend at the cabin with Kate. When the day finally arrived, he hurried out of bed like a kid on Christmas morning, scrambling to see what surprises awaited him. Alexis and his mother were already setting up for the gathering at their apartment, and when his mother suggested, "The best thing for Kate Beckett would be to get her mind off everything! Perhaps you could bring her here, and she could be part of this gathering of artists."

He continued getting ready, and saw her knowing smile. Martha could sense his excitement, and he could see both her hope for her son's happiness, and her fear that once again he would be disappointed.

In his hurry, he nearly forgot his laptop. Writing was the last thing on his mind, but he wanted to hang onto the excuse so he could stay. Quickly sharing his goodbyes with his family, he went off to the cabin. He'd grabbed a few DVDs, scary ones to make their hearts pound, mysteries to intrigue, and a few classic tales of epic romance they could watch under the guise of brilliant cinema.

The drive felt longer that day, and each time his foot pressed more heavily on the accelerator, he reminded himself that he didn't want to show up too much earlier than normal. The sound of crunching gravel beneath his tires told him he'd arrived, he was finally there. He wondered if Kate was looking forward to this a fraction as much as he was.

He took his overnight bag and laptop from the trunk, and the sound of raised voices caught his immediate attention. His inner self reminded him that he shouldn't have left her up there, alone and vulnerable. He carefully closed the lid of the trunk without making a noise, and followed the voices.

He definitely recognized the sound of Kate when frustrated, and soon after remembered Roger's voice. The pair were arguing outside of the house. Kate was absolutely drenched in sweat, her cheeks red as she breathed hard. Just as Castle was about to grab Roger and yank him away from Beckett, the therapist said, "You need to have common sense, Kate. Whatever this vendetta is certainly is not worth your life."

"You're being dramatic," Beckett countered dismissively. "It was a jog."

"I saw you. That was not 'a jog.' Besides, I read your doctor's orders. They were perfectly clear. Absolutely no exertion, no heavy cardio, especially not miles away from the nearest hospital and alone with no one to help if something goes wrong!"

"What's going on here?" Rick asked as he approached.

"Oh good," Roger scoffed. "I hope you at least care enough about her to wait until she's better."

"What exactly are we talking about?" Castle wondered.

"I know why you come up here. And if you couldn't wait to make a move on her while she still had a boyfriend, I doubt her health is enough incentive for patience."

"Okay, I'm lost—"

"You don't know what you're talking about, Roger," Kate interrupted. "You have no idea what's going on."

"Don't I? Josh told me you kissed your writer friend while the two of you were still together," Roger argued.

Castle turned to Kate, feeling dizzy with confusion. They never spoke, or even hinted, about their undercover kiss. Sometimes he'd wondered if it really happened. "How did Josh know that—"

"That doesn't sound like a denial," Roger chimed in.

"We were undercover," Rick explained.

"You don't owe him an explanation, Castle." Kate turned to Roger and retorted, "Josh asked, and I was honest. And I thought that conversation was between the two of us, but clearly he chose to share with his friends."

"You're right. You don't owe me an explanation," Roger replied. "You're a good cop, Kate. I feel safer with you in the world, so I want to help you get back out there. But you make risky decisions. What happens if you're up here running and you have a heart attack, or a blood clot, or any of the other things that could conceivably happen. And I know enough to know that your friend here is more prone to get you into trouble than to help keep you safe."

"I'll see you Monday," Kate replied, refusing to discuss this any further with Roger.

"If you still want to work with me, call me after you have your appointments. I'm not working with you until I'm sure you're healthy enough. I don't want to come up here and find you dead because you decided to blatantly disregard your doctors' orders. Be safe, Kate. Be smart. Please."

Without further delay, Roger left. Kate began to stretch, carefully but fully, and Castle was somewhat aware that she was speaking, but didn't comprehend to her words.

"What the hell was he talking about?" Rick interrupted. Explaining so she knew what he was referring to, he added, "Heart attacks? Blood clots?"

"I told you I have follow-up appointments soon."

"Yea, but…I guess I didn't realize how serious this still is."

"It was heart surgery. They're just being overly cautious," she added calmly. "I'm sure the lawyers make them—"

Rick interrupted, "You went for a run?"

"Circled the lake in 52 minutes. Should be almost half that, but I'll get there."

"You ran around the lake?"

"Yea," she proudly replied.

He noted the way the sweat marks on her chest were still spreading, and he realized what a challenge that must have been.

"Beckett, have you completely lost your mind?" he asked, voice raising at the end of the question.

"What?" she chuckled, expecting a joke from him.

"I'm hardly Roger's biggest fan, but he's right…you took a huge risk. What would have happened if you would have had a heart attack out there? It could have been weeks before you were found, this lake is so densely wooded. Imagine for a second what that would do to your father. Ryan and Esposito? You're like a sister to them. And me?" he added the last part just a bit more quietly.

"You'd be fine," she tried to play it off. "Perfect excuse to go on a long book tour and comfort yourself with some 'adoring fans.'" She chuckled, even softly elbowed him at the end to show she was teasing.

But he couldn't take that, he couldn't joke about this. "Don't do that," he harshly retorted.

"Do what?" she asked as she led him toward the house.

He stepped in front of her and said, "Your death is not a joke to me. Not ever. And for you to reduce my feelings toward you to something easily forgotten with a couple of meaningless trysts…that's just cruel. And it's not fair."

"God, Castle, you're taking this way too seriously."

"I'm not. If something happened to you, if I didn't stay here and keep you safe…"

"What?" she pushed.

"I'd never recover from that. This thing with us, whatever it is…means a hell of a lot more to me than that. Clearly it means more to me than it does to you."

"You can't say that."

"Can't I? Those criminals will still be out there in a week, or a month. And you aren't the only cop. And if something happens to you, you won't be able to do anything to stop them. If you cared for us, for any of those who love you, you'd take care of yourself. You wouldn't take pointless risks, put yourself in harm's way to get back out there a few weeks earlier. This war you're fighting…you aren't the only one involved anymore."

"That is so rich," she scoffed derisively.

"What is?"

"You're lecturing me about taking risks and putting myself in harm's way? You've done that from the first moment I met you, long before that, actually. You never stayed in the damn car, never stayed safe. You take pride in going rogue! Don't you think that was hard for me? Is still hard for me?"

"You don't ask me to stay in the car anymore."

"I gave up! And if you're in the car, I can't protect you. At least if we head into danger together, I'm by your side. I know where you are. I can try to look out for you. But every single time we go into these situations…" she trailed off, heading into the cabin and shaking her head. He thought she mumbled, "I can't do this right now," but it wasn't quite clear.

He followed. "Can't do what?"

"Nothing."

"No. Not nothing. I need to hear what you were going to say. 'Every single time we go into these situations…' Finish the thought."

"It terrifies me," she replied through gritted teeth. "I'm still scared every time we walk into danger together that I'll fail you. That something will happen to you. That you'll be hurt…or worse. And I feel the weight of all of those who love you on my shoulders because it's my responsibility to get you through the day and back home every night safely."

"You've never said that."

"There's no point. You won't listen. Don't you think Martha and Alexis count on me to get you home? And what's worse, you…you trust me to make sure you get home every night. I don't want to let you down, or them."

"Must be hard running a charity protection service," he jabbed.

"I don't look at you like that," she fought back. "You know better."

"Do I?"

"I hope so."

"Tell me what I know," he challenged.

"I—I want you by my side. I wouldn't pick any other partner to be there with me every step of the way. But that doesn't mean I'm blind to the risks. It doesn't mean I wouldn't be devastated if something happened. You take chances every day. Sometimes far crazier chances than my jog."

"Kate—," he began more sympathetically, thoughts swirling with possibilities.

"I'm going to grab a shower. I'll leave you alone so you can get some writing done," she said, hurrying away, favoring her sore side. The way she walked reminded him that she was training and fighting even though she was probably still in serious pain.

Castle sat down with his computer on the porch and quickly tapped out a chapter, a huge fight between Nikki and Rook that was fueled by the one they'd just had in reality. And when that fight was done, he lacked the ability to write any more. He couldn't think of anyone but her, the thought of her alone and dying somewhere, the thought of her devastated if something happened to him, the thought that so much was still, and it seemed would always be, unsaid between them.

He went in to the cabin to find her. He wanted to ask her why in the hell she'd mentioned their undercover kiss to Josh. They'd always acted like it never happened, but he could still feel her mouth, her fingers in his hair, the breathless moan that she shot through him. Had it felt half as good to her as it had to him? Did it mean something? He tried to think of a flippant way to bring it up, but was having trouble figuring out how. For someone usually so quick with words and jokes, he felt at a loss. He was determined, if an opening presented itself, he was going to take it.

But when he found her, she was curled up in the bed in the far corner of the cabin. He walked closer, stepping as quietly as possible and hoping to avoid any creaky boards. He didn't want to startle her, but needed to make sure she was still breathing. Now his fear of a heart attack was a new reason to worry about her that he hadn't even thought of before.

He watched her pulse dancing against her neck, saw her chest rise and fall as she breathed, and felt some relief. Prying himself away so she didn't wake and find him staring at her, he told himself that he wasn't sure he'd ever really get over his love for her. He wasn't sure if it was even possible.

He went out to the love seat they'd sat in only a few days earlier to watch a movie, and he missed her terribly. He couldn't keep going on like this, he needed to know if she shared these thoughts and feelings.

Castle didn't realize he'd drifted off, but he woke up and heard noise in the kitchen. As he got up to check on Kate, some phenomenal smells greeted him. He froze in his tracks when he first saw her standing by the stove. She had an oversized shirt that thoroughly covered her, but the tiniest shorts he'd ever seen her wear, and instinctively his head tilted as he stared at the mile-long stretch of her legs. She didn't turn around to see him, but said, "Sleep well?"

"Yea," he answered. "You?"

She just nodded and kept on cooking. Grabbing a bottle of wine, she poured him a tall glass and handed it across the counter. "Get any writing done?"

"Yea. A particularly angst-filled section that has alluded me until today."

"Well, don't worry, Castle, I'm good at provoking feelings of angst," she sadly joked.

"I just don't want anything to happen to you. I want to protect you like you protect me. I know I'm not a cop, I know you can take care of yourself. But it doesn't stop me from wanting to."

Staring for a moment, all food preparation stopped, she failed to respond, and he wasn't sure how they'd ever cut through her defenses and talk about how they felt.

"I know, Rick," she said somberly. She put down the knife and gave him her full attention. "You've had my back more times than I can count. And I don't say it, but I feel the same about you. It's not only my job, but it's my privilege to look after you as my partner. It's not just what I have to do…it's what I want to do. You mean a lot to me, Castle. Even if I'm not good at saying that."

He was reeling with possibilities, thinking of things he wanted to get off his chest. But her well-being came first, and he said, "It's my privilege to be at your side. So will you please agree to skip the intense cardio until after your follow-up so we can continue to privilege each other?"

She giggled softly, "Yes. And you…don't do anything too 'rogue' without me."

"Agreed," he answered, replying with a grin. He tried to continue because she seemed open and he wanted them to talk about so much.

"Hand me the zucchini?"

"Right," he answered, shaking his head to clear his thoughts.

They talked while she prepped about a thousand things he didn't really want to talk about, but he enjoyed her company too much to complain. When dinner was in the oven, she asked him to start a fire.

It was a chillier summer evening, and he certainly didn't mind the ambiance of flames, a romantic dinner, and maybe a movie while they gathered around his computer.

He tried to start a fire, and found that it was a bit more difficult than he'd expected. He was a city boy through and through, and all of his fireplaces involved switches instead of kindling. His first few attempts to light the logs were unsuccessful.

She came in and sat down on the hearth and asked, "Want some help with that?"

"Sure," he replied, looking down on her bare knee as it brushed against his thigh.

Reaching for a log, she winced, and he knew once again her body was struggling to heal and dealing with the aftereffects of her ambitious workout earlier.

"You okay?" he asked.

"It's possible," she conceded, "that my run was a little too much this morning."

"Possible?" he teased.

"Grab that bucket of kindling, please," she requested, pointing. She carefully arranged the sticks and some newspaper with a few slightly larger pieces of timber. She placed other larger pieces near, but not on the fire.

She lit it, and he remained next to her on the hearth, the pair facing each other as they watched the flames spread and begin to take off. When a good bit of flame was going, she added another, larger piece of timber, and then another. She looked at a huge log nearby, and he reached behind himself to grab it before she could. It seemed far too heavy for her in her present state.

Instructing him on where to put it, she gave orders and he followed them, and returned to his spot facing her.

"Look, I'm sorry about earlier," she said. "I wish you didn't have to hear that. None of what Roger said, my breakup with Josh, or anything he was talking about, had anything to do with you. None of it was your fault."

Rick leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his knees. "That's too bad."

"Hunh?" she asked, perplexed.

"I was hoping your breakup with him had at least a little to do with me," he only half-teased.

"Well. Maybe."

They sat quietly for a moment, and then his thoughts flowed without caution or filter, "Why did you tell Josh about the kiss?"

"Umm," she began, pressing her fingers to her forehead as she thought. He knew that if she answered, she'd have to admit to him that it happened. They'd both acknowledge here, alone together, that at one time their lips passionately met, regardless of the circumstances.

To put her a little at ease, he added, "I mean it wasn't a real kiss."

"Oh?" she began, appearing disappointed, but rerouted. "Of course, right. It wasn't."

"Part of the job. We were trying to save our friends. What happens undercover…"

"Exactly."

"So then really you weren't obligated to tell him."

"He asked. And I was honest."

"He asked?"

"Yea…I mean…" Kate paused, leaning her forearms on her knees and mirroring his posture. "When we broke up, he insisted that it had something to do with my relationship with you…that I never really dove into my relationship with him because I wasn't fully available."

"Well, he was busy saving the world, he wasn't there for you—"

Kate chuckled, "Which is exactly what I said. And it was true. But he was right…I never really threw myself into that relationship, even when he was there. I never would have even started dating him except… …it doesn't matter, the point is—"

"No, it definitely matters," Rick interrupted. "You wouldn't have started dating him if what?"

"That summer you went to the Hamptons to finish your book? Well, this is stupid, but right before you left, I thought you were interested in me. I broke up with Demming and—I can't believe I'm talking about this. Must be the wine."

She pressed her hands to the hearth to stand, but Castle tapped his fingers to her knee as if that could hold her down. "You've had half a glass, if that."

She sighed unhappily, and continued quickly, "Maybe my ego was bruised, a little, okay? Because I thought you were interested, but it turned out you were back with Gina. I felt stupid and…I decided to get back out there and meet someone. And I did. Anyway, we're way off topic."

Castle's brain was entirely overloaded. His voice was so uncertain, entirely unlike its usual authoritative sound. "I didn't know. It is possible that I was nursing a bit of a bruised ego myself." He wanted her to continue talking, to tell him she'd loved him all along, because he was terrified of having his heart broken. "Please continue. You were saying you weren't that invested in your relationship with Josh…"

"Right. Yea, so he kept pushing, asking if I was ending it because of how I felt about you. He wanted me to swear that nothing ever happened between you and me, and…I admitted that we kissed. Once."

"But you told him we were undercover, obviously."

She tightly pressed her lips closed and shook her head before she admitted, "Nope."

"Why?"

"Because—," the timer went off for dinner, and she gratefully accepted the reprieve, hurrying to the oven.

He followed, watching her check the items before pushing the trays back inside. "It's not quite ready yet," she stated, seeming convinced that she had effectively ended the last part of their conversation. "Sorry for the wait, I'm sure you're hungry and—"

Castle interrupted, not accusing but stating as if his words were undeniable fact, "You didn't tell him it was undercover because it was more than that. Because you've wanted to kiss me, and I've wanted to kiss you, for a long time. So even though we were undercover, there was something more to it."

Beckett looked down at the counter, her teeth pinching the inside of her cheek while she thought. Finally she nodded, but couldn't even seem to face him.

Lightening the mood, he said, "Well it was a pretty unforgettable kiss…except for the fact that you were looking at another guy the whole time."

Laughing at his joke, she replied, "A heavily armed thug, ready to attack, can really destroy a mood."

He came close, leaning against the counter next to the oven. "Makes you wonder," he posited, "what it would be like without the looming, heavily armed thug."

Her need to push back still existed, so she immediately jabbed, "Maybe it makes you wonder, Castle, but…" His eyes fell, and he started to think the instinct to push him away would always exist in her. Maybe she wasn't capable of dropping her guard. But her presence created a shadow, and he looked up and found her in front of him. "I've wondered, too," she confessed.

Her tongue subtly poked between her lips, moistening them, and she purposefully reached out her good arm and rested her palm on his shoulder, his head turning to follow it to the landing point. She raised just slightly on her tiptoes and brought her face to his. He felt himself focusing dumbly, like he couldn't quite figure out what was going on. Her eyebrows gathered at the center in question, and when he didn't come forward to meet her, she lowered her heels to the ground. He could see it, disappointment and rejection in her eyes, and he couldn't stand it for a moment longer.

His fingers glanced along her neck, his thumb against her cheek as his eyes locked in on hers. Standing fully from his leaning position, he came to her this time, covering the majority of the distance and staring adoringly at her. That last half inch was taken slowly, eyelids only fluttering closed when lips finally met. Still, even at that moment, he waited for her to pull away, and instead felt her hand surround the back of his head to hold him close.

The flesh of their lips softly met, just acclimating to the intimacy of such a slow, intentional kiss. She was the first to part her lips, and it felt like the gates of paradise parting for him to enter. He was already panting, probably too loudly given the tender nature of the exchange, but it was so different when his heart was involved, when there'd been so much longing and desperation before that moment. She came even closer, her breasts touching his chest, the fronts of her thighs against his, and already he knew there was no innocence to this moment. He'd had sex before that wasn't this sultry, this arousing, so intensely interpersonal.

As soon as he accepted the invitation offered by her parted mouth, he gently allowed his tongue to venture against her lips and beyond. Each responded to the other's every move, neither invading, but both joining, exploring, and melding. Her fingers splayed through his hair, eventually moving to the side of his face. The way she touched his ear, so personal a touch, made him wonder what her lips would feel like in her fingers' place. His mind immediately imagined them both naked, slowly and deeply fucking with the same intensity of this kiss, her lips against his ear while he sucked her neck. There was no way to describe his longing.

She ended this kiss, pressing her forehead and nose to his, her eyes closed as he felt her heavier breaths. She hummed a subtle, "Mmm," indicating her satisfaction, then brushed her lips to his a few times, and he found himself drawn back in when she nudged his lips open and slinked her tongue into his mouth, seeking.

On his finest day he'd never adequately capture this with words. He'd never fully convey the softness of her lips, the lovely taste of her tongue, the seductiveness of her touch, and the way every moment she was in his arms, she further breached his soul.

His hold tightened as he pulled her close, easily lifting her off the ground as their grunts and moans married in the air. But he went too far, his grip tightening until she cried out in a sound that clearly was not delight. He placed her feet on the ground, his hands capping her shoulders, forehead to hers as he whispered, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's fine. I'm fine," she answered, immediately, tenderly, her one hand cradling his cheek.

He felt intense guilt, wondering how much of her suffering she was hiding for his benefit.

Likely to distract him, she asked, "So did kissing before ruin the whole 'first kiss' thing?"

"No," he shook his head decisively. "If anything it made it better. How many people can say they've had two first kisses with the same person? One," he lowered his voice and added with an official tone, "in the line of duty." He paused and smiled and added more flirtatiously, "And one just for the joy of it."

She smiled so fully that it startled him, but then suddenly grew serious, "There's something I should tell you. You need to know in case it changes things for you."

He felt a surge of panic, and began wildly guessing his greatest concerns, "There's someone else? New boyfriend? You're married?"

"No," she calmly responded, adding, "No," a bit more adamantly and then, "No! Are you serious right now?" with a bit of irritation.

"Pregnant?"

"No matter how good that kiss was, I'm pretty sure that's impossible," she joked, trying to ease his somewhat obvious panic.

"I know…I thought maybe…someone else," he said sadly. He had no idea how she felt about children, or even how he felt about having more of them, but he knew damn well if she were to have a child, he wanted to be the one she shared that with.

"No," she shook her head. "Nothing like that."

"Cancer? Terminal illness?" he freaked out.

"No, Castle! Stop trying to guess!" she giggled but still sounded frustrated. "It's nothing like any of those things."

"Okay," he took a steadying breath and waited.

"You were upset with me earlier for not following my doctor's orders."

"I don't want anything to happen to you," he defended.

"I'm not supposed to exert myself…" she hinted, waiting to see if he understood. When he didn't, she added, "I'm not supposed to have sex, Castle. Not until I see the cardiologist and she runs some tests. I feel fine and I'm sure I'd be fine but…" she stopped, tilting her head in confusion. "Why are you smiling at that?"

"I'm not," he replied, trying to look serious.

"You clearly were!"

"I'm not, not at all, it's just—I'm—You know—it's nothing." He shrugged and confessed, "If you're telling me that…it means you were thinking about it. With me. Before your appointment less than a week from now." He had a huge smirk on his face, and knew he was blushing.

"And you weren't thinking about it?" she asked, her expression falling.

"Oh, I was. I definitely was. But I have been for years. Years. So that's nothing new."

"I think every women ever kissed like that would be thinking about it."

"I don't care what every other woman is thinking about. Just you."

He could tell it was the perfect response by her reaction, but it wasn't a response given to garner favor. It was the absolute truth.

"Anyway," she said, "I didn't want you to feel like I was leading you on. Because I would like to. I would really, really like to. And I think I'd be okay, honestly."

"I'm not taking that risk," he shook his head. "Something happens to you, and I lose you…because I couldn't wait one more week after I've waited years?"

"If you feel that way," she said, raising an eyebrow before she answered the grating sound coming from the timer on the oven.

"Although," he said, pausing as he stared at her ass while she stooped to pull trays from the oven, "Maybe we could just make sure you don't exert yourself. Avoid unnecessary cardio…on your part."

"That won't work," she chuckled.

"It could."

"Clearly you've never had sex with me before. Passive is not how I roll."

The look she gave instantly flared his desire and incited his curiosity. He thought of suggesting handcuffs, but knew that probably wasn't a good first-time suggestion. He empathetically stated, "Next Friday it is. Provided that your appointments go well."

"It's going to go fine," she argued. "An MRI, ECG, and we'll have proof that everything's fine. It's a just formality."

"Of course," he said, feeling a gnawing concern. Every time they got close, it seemed like something always got in the way. He couldn't allow anything to happen to her now.

After dinner, the pair went to their spots on the couch to watch the movie. He lifted his arm and placed it on the back of the sofa, inviting her to sit close if she wanted to. She immediately took the spot, and he felt his chest puff a bit with pride and happiness. Time had passed, maybe ten or fifteen minutes, he wasn't sure. He also knew he hadn't seen a damn minute of the movie. Again.

Kate was leaning next to him, her legs curled up on the sofa behind her. Her hand rested on his chest, fingers fiddling with the buttons on his shirt to the point of distraction. It wasn't that her hand on his torso was an especially erotic touch, but the open familiarity was mind blowing. She was making contact as if it were perfectly normal to do so, like the invisible barriers between them were fading.

After a few moments, his hand covered hers, their fingers intertwining. Their digits moved against each other as they softly massaged the other's hand.

He lowered his chin to her forehead, placing a tender and lingering kiss there. She lifted her face toward his, and the moment their eyes met, their lips were drawn together in what quickly became a seething kiss.

His touch roamed along her right side, feeling her body, experiencing her presence against him. His fingers paused as they moved down her back, touching the upper waistband of her shorts and desperately wanting to push past that barrier to feel even more of her. He pulled his wandering hand back to her hip, trying to remove himself from temptation.

But they kept kissing, and he loved the way she was as passionate, tenacious, and exceptional in romance as she was in her work. She took his hand and moved it to her breast, over her shirt, and he stopped kissing her to watch. He focused on it as if mesmerized. She smiled at his fascination, carefully climbing onto his lap. His thumb brushed, circled and teased over her nipple as it stood rigidly against her clothes. His palm cupped and lifted, holding a part of her that until then he'd been forbidden to touch.

She wanted to be touched by him, wanted his hands on her body, and did nothing to disguise that. As much as her actions made this clear, he so much wanted to hear her say those words, to verbalize her desire. But the actions would have to be enough for now.

Their kisses deepened, sometimes fervent, sometimes sweet and gentle. His body ached for release, as he figured hers did as well, but if this was all they could share for the moment, he was more than happy to enjoy it. But as she kissed down his jaw, softly nibbling his earlobe, she nearly made him forget caution. Nearly.

He wasn't sure how he'd survive the next few days before her appointment; they were going to be complete torment. And for some reason, that made him smile.