Chapter 4

She was released from the hospital soon enough, and Lanie was nice enough to take her home, under the strict understanding that she was to call immediately if there was anything she needed, wanted, or even thought would be mildly pleasant.

"Castle mentioned he'd stop by, throw out anything spoiled in the fridge. At least you won't have that to worry about."

"Good. That was nice of him." Very nice. He had been extremely nice the past few days, regardless of what she knew had to be an uncomfortable situation for him. And more than nice, he'd been surprisingly gentle. Aside from mild teasing, he hadn't bugged her.

Opening the door, she peered in, and her face broke into a smile. The apartment was immaculate. It had been cleaned and dusted, books stacked neatly, chairs straightened. The air held a slight hint of lemon, probably from dusting spray. A vase of purple irises sat on her coffee table, pink and yellow roses by the kitchen window, and, she discovered with a glance through her open bedroom door, pink and white orchids on her nightstand, beside a perfectly made bed with crisp hospital corners.

"Your place never looks this good."

"Tell me about it."

Lanie bent to look at the irises. "Aren't these just beautiful? Your Writer-Boy does have good taste."

"They're nice." Kate smiled. He'd noticed she'd liked his flowers. He'd remembered.

"Can we just talk about the flowers he got you at the hospital?"

Kate rolled her eyes. "Lanie, please. They were just orchids."

"There is no such thing as 'just' orchids. If he just wanted to get you something nice, he would've called for a dozen roses and been done in two minutes. He got you a gorgeous bouquet that he had to pick out. He purposely looked for something surprising. So don't give me 'just orchids.' Rick Castle spent time finding flowers that said I love you."

Kate smiled wryly. Actually, he'd written an entire letter that said the exact same thing. Maybe Lanie wasn't too far off. "Are you done, or should I start picking out linens and china patterns now?"

Lanie had wandered into the kitchen and was peering through the fridge and freezer, a self-satisfied grin on her face. "Judging by this little domestic oasis, I'd say he might have already done it. Check it out."

Kate looked in to discover fresh milk, juice, eggs, fruit and butter in the fridge, a small loaf of bread on the counter next to it, and chicken, vegetables, ice cream and mini cream puffs in her freezer. "Wow. I never have good food like this."

"Honey, will you please just admit that he's your husband? If you're going to be married, you know, you may as well have the fun of the honeymoon first."

Because he'd obviously gone to great lengths to arrange for her comfort, Kate found herself calling him after Lanie left. He picked up immediately. "Hi."

"Hey, thanks for cleaning up my place. It looks wonderful."

"You're welcome, though the maid did do most of the work."

"I don't have a maid."

"No. But I do."

"Well, thank you."

"Not a problem. I just figured it would be nice to come home to a clean apartment."

"And you even coordinated the flowers with my color scheme. Castle, you're a constant surprise."

"I do aim to please." She could hear the smile in his voice. "Is there anything you need? Anything I can get you?"

"No, I'm fine. You set me up pretty well." She hesitated before continuing. "Actually, I'm not much of a cook, but would you like to come over for dinner? It was so nice of you to stock up my fridge. The least I can do is share."

"I was just about to ask if I could cook for you," he chuckled. "You beat me to the punch. I'll be right there."

"Can I help?"

"No thank you, Miss Beckett. The maestro needs space and freedom in which to work his magic." He brandished a spoon at her. "He respectfully requests that you relax, and if you wish, observe the magic."

"Well, who am I to question the maestro?" Kate settled in a chair beside her kitchen table. He had brought supplies, only some of which he had taken out for cooking. When she had tried to look through the rest, he had shooed her away and she had called him a mother hen. So now she settled contentedly and watched him defrost, spice, mix, boil and stir. "I almost never cook like this."

"Eh. I find it strangely soothing, actually." He poured something into the pan he was stirring.

"I used to," she agreed, "but usually by the time I get home, I'm so tired that even the microwave takes too much effort."

"I know how you feel. When Alexis was a baby, before she learned to sleep through the night, there were a few weeks when Meredith was gone and my diet consisted of cereal, yogurt and delivery."

She laughed and sniffed appreciatively. "It smells good. Are you sure there's nothing I can do to help?"

"I will permit you to set the table, as long as you do not overextend or exhaust yourself in your weakened state." With a roll of her eyes, she complied.

Setting her napkin back on the table (her mother had drilled proper etiquette into her, including napkins on laps), Kate sighed. "That was delicious. Thank you, Castle."

"You're more than welcome." She reached for her plate, but he easily swooped in and removed it before she could. "No. You sit. I labor."

With a sigh, but secretly pleased, Kate surrendered her plate and cutlery, watching as he quickly cleared the table and filled her dishwasher. "So domestic."

"The ladies love it," he grinned as he set a few stubborn pans to soak.

Kate had been under the impression that he would be leaving after finishing up with the dishes, but after he finished with the sink – steadfastly refusing her offers to help – he made no move to leave, instead fussing with her freezer, making everything was tidy, and removing a blender and something he wouldn't show her from his sack of dinner supplies.

She stopped for a second. "You're not going to leave, are you." It wasn't really a question, but he answered it anyway.

"Not unless forced at gunpoint. I would be remiss in my duty as your caretaker if I left you."

"Lanie –"

" – told me she thought you might appreciate the company, she was still uncomfortable with the idea of you being alone just yet, and she knew you'd enjoy a personal chef. Now let me continue nursing you, in your weakened state. Here. You sit." He led her to the couch and settled her down with a virgin daiquiri – no alcohol for a week – as she muttered something along the lines of weakened state, my ass. "You look tired. Relax."

She smiled wryly. "You're one hell of a nurse, Castle."

"Damn straight. Now give me your feet." She eyed him suspiciously. "I am just going to give you a footrub to help you relax. There is no ulterior motive. Please?"

"All right. But no funny stuff. And no tickling." She lifted her feet.

"Tickling tomorrow. Tonight, just rubbing." He paused. "I didn't mean that to sound dirty."

She chuckled, settling back into the cushions and closing her eyes. His hands were warm and surprisingly soft, and she let out a long sigh. "God, Castle, that feels so good."

He snorted. "I like you better when you don't filter things."

"Painkillers. It won't last."

He fell silent again, rubbing her feet. As she took another sip of her drink, he spoke up again. "You didn't tell Lanie about the letter, did you?"

"No." She opened her eyes, seeing him watching her.

"She didn't seem to know anything about it when I talked to her."

Kate shook her head. "Alexis is the only one who knows."

He nodded. His hands on her feet slowed, his thumb lightly circling the joint of her ankle. "Beckett, I want you to understand, if you want me to, I will pretend it never happened. We don't have to talk about it. I won't push you."

She bit her lip, watching his fingers trace soft patterns over her skin with the lightest touches, sending tingles through her skin. "You could just let it go like that?"

"If it's what you want, I'll respect it." He swallowed. "I owe you that, at least."

Kate smiled softly. "You don't owe me anything."

Castle sighed. "I'm so sorry for all of this. I really didn't mean to upset you."

"I want to tell you something." He nodded obediently, still rubbing her feet slowly. "It surprised me. I wasn't expecting it. And – it did upset me. To think that you sat there, in so much pain, but you felt like you couldn't say anything. I'm sorry you had to go through that. That's why I was upset."

"That's it? You're not unhappy with me?"

"You thought I'd be angry?"

"Well – I –"

"Castle, it's a beautifully written love letter. Why would that make me angry?"

He blinked, opened his mouth, closed it, and stopped for a second. "Okay, I'm lost."

"Look, what you wrote was – it was overwhelming." She paused for a moment. "Castle, to be completely honest, and this won't come as much of a surprise to you, I'm attracted to you. I always have been. And it's not that I don't feel the same way you do – exactly – but you're already on step ten, okay? I'm still back around step three or so."

"Step three?"

She rolled her eyes. "Approximately. You know what I mean."

"I do." His warm hands stilled on her feet, holding them gently. "Thank you. I know this has embarrassed you as much as it has me. Thank you for being so gracious."

"You've saved my life more than once, Castle."

"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you," he said gently. "You know that."

"Thank you."

He let go of her feet. "I would like to attempt to hug you, if that's alright."

Kate laughed. "You have to ask permission?"

"I didn't want to upset your bandages. Or inspire you to reach for your sidearm."

"I understand." She smiled. "But go ahead."

"You're sure?"

"I promise not to shoot you."

With a beaming smile, he reached for her, pulling her close and folding her tight in an embrace that wrapped all the way around, enveloping her in warmth and softness and the muscles of his broad chest. She nestled her head on his shoulder. "You're a good man, Castle."

He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. "Get some sleep. I'll be right here if you need anything."

"Thanks." She stood, giving his hand a squeeze as she left the couch to head to her bedroom.

Author's Note: And tomorrow, apparently, he will ask her to become Queen of Castle…I am PUMPED. Even though I know her instinctive reaction will be all Jigga-whaaaaat? The proper response would be OH GOD YES PLEASE, of course.