I hadn't planned on continuing this, actually. But people were so lovely about it and a few asked for more, so here it is. This is lighter than the first part. I'm a sucker for a happy ending.

Let me know what you think!

She isn't a cop anymore, and he is no longer her shadow.

She'd tried to resume her role as detective but, hard as she might, it wasn't working. She couldn't interview suspects without the aid of an interpreter, couldn't read the tells in people's voices. Couldn't communicate easily with her team, to her great distress. The quickfire theory building she'd loved so much was gone.

She came to him before she made the decision, after four months back on active duty (not that she'd seen much of the field. Aside from crime scenes, she'd found she was more useful at the precinct, unable to chase down leads by talking to the key players). He'd wiped the lone tear that glistened on her cheek away and she'd let him hold her, rocking her gently as she came to terms with the sacrifice of her beloved job.

That was over a year ago, though; she was happy now. Upon learning of Kate's resignation, months after she quit the force, Jordan Shaw had tugged at a few strings, gotten her an interview with the FBI - as a criminal profiler. Castle isn't surprised when she gets the job.

She comes to the loft at the end of her first week, her face split by a huge grin as she told him all about her work.

Isn't it meant to be... (he pauses then, not knowing how to sign the word 'confidential'. He inwardly reminds himself to find out) … secret? The FBI?

"Confidential?" Kate repeats the motion for secret as she speaks and he realises it must be the same. "Yes. But it's you." She smiles then, head cocked to the side, tongue peeking out between her teeth.

He's proud of his grasp on American Sign Language. He is far from fluent - it's mostly only those born deaf who have complete mastery. His knowledge of the English language does not help either; the syntax is entirely different with ASL and it throws him off. Kate is much better than him when it comes to that. She's admitted to him that he's better with the subtleties though, that he caught on quicker to the meanings behind the positions of the hands and the facial expressions. He disagrees.

The way she copes with the loss of her hearing cements his belief that she is utterly extraordinary. He paid for a top class signing tutor for her in the beginning, the three months she had off active duty, much to her chagrin. She'd almost refused but she'd seen he needed it, accepted with a tight press of her lips. At the same time, he'd been having daily lessons, thought she hadn't known he was learning too. She surprised him one day when she'd told him to share her session instead of paying for both. She'd been back at the 12th at the time, had flashed her badge and rolled her eyes when he asked her how she'd known he'd been having lessons. So they learnt together. And then they practised together. They went on sign language led tours of New York's famous places together, attended deaf events. Kate sat in the front row as Rick had nervously given his first public address in sign language while publicising the charity he had set up. The press release had aired on TV and she had curled up next to him as they watched from his sofa, wrapped in his arms.

And now she's back on that couch and he's handing her a glass of wine as he reflects on the comment she just made. But it's me? He inquires, settling next to her. She ducks her head, doesn't meet his gaze.

"You've done so much for me, this past year. The least I can do is give you a little bit of confidential information. Don't go running that mouth of yours though." She smirks up at him from behind the curtain of her hair. He loves it long.

He brushes the strands away though, cupping her cheek tenderly as he lifts her face towards him. He holds it there for a second, running his thumb over her cheekbone and for a second he thinks he's going to kiss her. But he can't and he won't, shouldn't be asking for more than friendship from her, not when that's already so much more than he deserves. Not when her deafness is down to him. Kate. You don't owe me anything. And whatever I do, it'll never be enough to make this right and-

She grabs his hands, halting his words.

"Richard Castle. This is not your fault." Her voice is stern, her eyes intense as they bore into him. "You can't blame Jodie Foster for John Hinkley." She pauses for a second. "Although you can blame her for Nim's Island."

He laughs at the quip, pulling her into him, and they remain there in comfortable silence for a long while, chests rising and falling as they breathe in sync.

She speaks up again after a while, her voice small - barely more than a whisper. "Castle." She turns to face him. "I need to know. What we are - what you do for me, with me - the foundation, the sign language… this - is it - is it guilt?" She sounds so very sad, so very vulnerable that it shatters him. He closes his eyes for a moment, collecting himself. She takes his silence as confirmation, he realises as she pulls away with a pained noise, extracting herself from his arms and muttering something about seeing him around with her voice wavering.

"Kate!" He calls after her. He curses himself as he remembers she can't hear him, leaping to his feet and bounding towards her before she can reach the door. He grabs her and holds her to him. She resists for a moment before crumpling into him, her head against his chest. He realises she's crying when moisture soaks through his shirt. Pulling back slightly he leans down to rest his forehead against hers for a second, bumping his nose against hers. She calms, letting out a slight hiccup before the tears subside.

"Castle," She croaks, her voice raw. "Tell me it's not just guilt. Please. It can't just be guilt." She lets out a soft keen and he draws her to him again for a second before letting go of her, needing his hands. He chuckles softly as she holds onto him, but gently pushes her away.

Kate, he begins. He pauses momentarily, bracing himself for her reaction to what he is about to tell her. In the beginning - I needed ASL to talk to you - to apologise. I was guilty. I am guilty. I always will be. But it was never just that, Kate. Never.

A watery smile graces her face and she moves into wrap her arms around him again but he stops her.

Kate.

He raises his right hand, points to his chest.

Clenching both hands into loose fists, he pulls them towards his heart, crossing them as if drawing someone into him for a hug.

He drops his left hand, his right opening, palm up as he extends his arm towards her.

I love you.

He's said it. Now he waits, eyes closed, for her stammered apology. For her to let him know she doesn't feel the same way, as she rushes out his door and out of his life.

His eyes startle open. Because she's kissing him. She pulls away when he doesn't kiss back, frozen in shock

He looks down at her and she looks up at him. She's crying again, her face shimmering with tears as she smiles at him - wide but uncertain.

She draws back, echoes his earlier movements, adding another. Her right hand is palm down, pinky and thumb extended outwards as the other three fingers are tucked in. She slides the hand to the side and back.

I love you too.

He gapes at her, and she laughs, tugging at the back of his neck and pulling him to her lips. And then he's kissing her.

He never wants to stop.