At long last! An update! I'm so very sorry for the long delay - I really am. You guys have been AWESOME - both with your reviews AND with your infinite patience with me.

I mentioned this in my A/N at the end of 'Be Ok' - but I'm sad to say that I've been on temporary hiatus with this story b/c, to be frank, life just hasn't been very funny for me lately. Hopefully, I'm working my way out the other side again - and I hope that this chapter doesn't disappoint you all if it's not up to its usual caliber.

A very, VERY special thank you to LittleLizzieZentara - I've started to incorporate some of your awesome ideas - let's see if you can find them! LOL

"Lying to ourselves is more deeply ingrained than lying to others." -Fyodor Dostoevski

Chapter 4

Kate Beckett is in Hell.

If she'd thought being out of the hospital was going to make her life easier, she quickly discovered that she was SADLY mistaken.

Granted, they'd lost their public forum, and so her embarrassment had ebbed somewhat, but they had also lost their hospital 'chaperones'.

It seemed that, though she hadn't realised it at the time, Castle really had been curbing his behaviour to a certain extent while they'd been in the hospital. Now that they were back at the loft, the one place in the world where he was the most at ease, the most comfortable, and the most unrestrained, well, let's just say, she wasn't sure who was more traumatised: herself, Alexis, or his poor mother.

In fact, Martha had jumped ship a mere 24 hours after they'd returned to the loft, claiming that there were just 'too many cooks in the kitchen' and that they'd be fine with each other and Alexis.

She was only slightly ashamed that she'd been unable to suppress the urge to call out 'coward!' as the actress fled the loft, suitcase in hand. Turning to Alexis, the twinge of guilt that she felt for calling her grandmother names evaporated – the poor girl looked like she either wanted to throw up or chase after her grandmother, pleading with her not to leave her alone with them.

And frankly, she couldn't blame the girl. They'd been in the loft no more than an hour before Castle had pulled out what certainly had to be every gadget, toy, or game in the unit. To be honest, the living room looked like a hurricane had hit it.

'Yeah, Hurricane Rick,' she snorted a little, rolling her eyes at the man's antics as he flitted from one thing to the next like a tweeked out ADHD kid off his meds on high on meth.

"Kate?" Alexis' voice pulled her from her thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"What do I do?"

Despite the vagueness of the question, she knew what the red-head meant.

What do I do about the mess?

What do I do about my dad?

What do I do when I have to go to school?

What do I do about gram leaving?

She wished she had an answer for the girl. At the very least, she wished that she could give her some half-truth platitude to make her feel better – but they both knew that she couldn't even give her that.

"I'm sorry, Alexis." It was the truth. It was the best that she could give her. "With the amount of energy he's expending, he's gotta sleep sometime, right? We'll deal with this then."

She smiled when Alexis smiled back.

Thirty seconds later she found herself fervently wishing for that energy pool to run out as he whisked her up in his arms and danced her around the room.

He was watching her sleep.

Again.

And in spite of everything they'd been through in the last week, the closeness they'd gained and the boundaries that they'd crossed, some things didn't change: it was still creepy.

"Stop it, Castle."

The room is still dark, her voice is hoarse from sleep and her eyes are still closed, but he's not surprised that she's aware of his gaze. It's not like it was a new development since they'd gotten out of the hospital anyways.

"I don't want to."

He hears her sigh, knowing she won't argue with him. Knowing that she knows as well as he does that there would be no point.

"Your staring woke me up," she grumbles, shifting around to get more comfortable. It's probably not fair, but she's too tired to find ways to get around telling him what's on her mind.

"Sorry."

And he is, she knows. He's sorry he woke her up, not so much that he was staring in the first place.

She'd always considered herself to be fairly self-aware. She knew what she liked, and she knew what she didn't like. She knew what she was willing to put up with, to compromise on, and she knew what would make her dig her heels in and become more immovable than the Rocks of Gibraltar.

Not for the first time since the accident, she found herself pondering how much she was learning, about herself, and more, even, that she was learning about her partner and her friend, which was no small feat given that the man had more layers than she could have ever thought possible.

She's learned that, despite the strength of her feelings against getting involved with coworkers, in general, and Castle, with his less than sparkling past, specifically, despite her fears, her anxiety and her deeply ingrained instinct to flee from the magnitude of risk that he represented to her heart, maybe even to her soul, she could not say 'no' in the face of his pain. She could not close the door on his suffering.

He was her partner. He was her friend – her best friend, even, but he was not her boyfriend. He was not her lover.

Kate Beckett has always coloured between the lines. She liked the lines. They distinguished what was supposed to be inside of them, and what belonged on the other side. But this? The lines here had gotten so blurry that she'd have been hard pressed to decide what side she was sitting on anymore.

So here she was, wrapped up in this man's arms – ostensibly because it was the only way that either of them were going to get any sleep until they'd recovered. With or without her ability to lie intact, however, she would have found herself incapable of saying that she didn't enjoy the feeling of his arms wrapped around her midsection, the security of his chest pressed against her back.

She'd grown accustom to having him there with her after only two days in the loft, in addition to the three days in the hospital, which surprises her more than a little. It usually took her weeks to adapt to sharing her bed with a new boyfriend enough to sleep soundly.

That first night out of the hospital, however, he'd broken down her walls again. And while she'd like to say it had been easy - it hadn't. He'd been determined to stay with her. She'd stopped him at the door. When he'd tried to follow her, she'd locked the door. He'd then proceeded to spend the next two hours sitting at the door, alternatively rattling the knob, begging her to let him in, and resourcefully ransacking the house looking for something to pick the lock with.

She'd heard both Alexis and his mother try to lure him away from the door. Like a whining puppy wanting into the bedroom at night, however, his tenacity has finally driven them all to their knees.

It was Alexis who finally broke her resolve to wait him out. The teenager was not above begging in order to both get some sleep, but more importantly, quell the pain that she saw in her father's eyes.

Kate could withstand one Castle…barely. Two Castles? Not a chance.

And so she'd let him in.

Some ridiculous part of her had genuinely believed that they could compromise: she would let him in her room, and he would sleep in the chair.

Fat chance.

He'd been an immovable object in her bed almost instantly.

"Did you know that you talk in your sleep?" His voice startles her out of her thoughts.

"What?" She hopes she's heard him wrong.

She feels him smile into the curve of her neck as his arms tighten around her stomach.

"I never realised how often you dreamt of me, my dear detective."

If she thought she'd wanted the ground to open up and swallow her up before, it was nothing compared to her desire to disappear now.

Feeling her stiffen in his arms, he feels the familiar pang of guilt and regret. He really didn't want to keep pushing her buttons, but he literally couldn't help it. And, as much as her forced honesty could be highly amusing and entertaining, her discomfort pained him.

"I'm sorry," he mutters into her hair again.

Again, she knows he means it. He always means it. She sighs and rolls over in his arms to face him – her cheeks still aflame. The sorrow she sees in his eyes, the regret, it surprises her.

"I know you are, Castle," she whispers back, brushing a stray lock of hair off his forehead.

She doesn't realise the magnitude of the simple gesture until it's too late – his eyes darken with desire and he's moving in before she can process what's happening. When his lips touch hers she's lost. In that instance, she finds herself powerless to pour anything less than her every honest emotion into the kiss.

In that instance, Katherine Beckett finally stops fighting. She stops fighting against the man; she stops fighting against her feelings. Most of all, she finally stops fighting herself.

I hope you guys enjoyed this, despite the long wait. Despite the fact that it's little more than mindless fluff. Despite the fact that I'm not entirely happy with it.

I'm still completely WRECKED from the Finale - in fairness - and as tempted as I am to write a Finale-fic - there are enough of them out there (and some truly excellent ones, I might add) - but I feel that perhaps, a little mindless and plotless fluff just might be in order?

Please, let me know what you guys think. Your words are what brings me back to this. They truly are. I've now managed to finish two multi-chapter fics - a record for me, I assure you - and the credit goes ENTIRELY to all of you - to those of you who reviewed - to those of you who followed or favourited. You keep me going when I'm ready to quit - and for that, I thank you.

AND - I promise to try and do better on the next chapter :)