If anyone touched as they took a fragment of muffin, no one twitched away. "Is this what it takes to get us to sit and talk?" Kate asked.

"Christ, I hope not. I can't do this very many times." Implying that wherever I am it's not as far as I'll go to be with her. Not what I said this morning. Implying we'll be together to to do this again. I think she heard me say that. "When you say 'this' is what it takes us to sit and talk—" rant, cry, argue "—what 'this' do you mean…?" Rick inquired.

"Blowing up part of the city, blowing up…ourselves. One another. Being partners. Blow up anything we might have, to blow up my silence."

"Explosives do bring down walls." And the rubble and collateral damage afterwards…

"My therapist would like that."

"Is he any good?"

"I can't tell. He has an insane woman for his client. Well, no; he thinks I am trying too hard not to be insane. Have you ever been in therapy?"

"Since I was an adult, you mean? Not because I was being thrown out of yet another school? Yeah, a couple times. Once to see if there was anything I could do to be a better single father. Alexis was not in great shape when she was little." Rick redacted his daughter's journey toward her present state of perfection, which worried him, as a matter of fact but she… anyway. "I actually liked the one who asked me 'If you buried your heart, what kind of plant would it grow?' but that's more of an 'emotion recollected in tranquility' kind of question. What does yours say?"

"Mostly he says 'What happened then?' and after that, 'How did that feel? How was that for you?"

"And you—" Rick carefully removed his arm from around her and squeezed his face before he said anything too terribly funny and bitter. He put the arm back. "Too early. And I really want to know."

"Probably exactly what you were going to say: I tell him I don't know or I fidget. About anything important, anyway. 'Important' meaning… pretty much everything except criminals and vics."

"What about me?" Rick asked. His voice was gentle, uninflected.

Kate rolled her eyes. "Mostly he tells me, about you. Mostly he says I should talk to you about how I feel."

"How do you feel?"

"Way more than I want to. You know that."

Rick was glad every ounce, every microgram of energy had been sapped out of him, because he knew a big part of himself wanted action. That would be joules, or maybe microvolts. Putting his fist through the windshield (or his inner copy editor) sounded really good.

"Beckett, Kate, love, we have been talking about this exact thing all night. I don't know. And if it makes you so unhappy to care about me —"

"It makes me scared!"

"I don't care! I don't ever want to hear you say that to me again." Inhale, Rick, exhale. "Because I can be scary and I know I am when I'm angry, and I know that makes it hard for me to talk about anything. But I am fairly sure that, until tonight anyway, I wasn't what's scaring you. You don't have enough sense to be frightened of getting killed, we settled that the day before Roy was killed. It's not like— is it? Like I have ever wanted to make you less than you are, whoever that is, whoever you want to be, to make you a nice, tame 'Mrs. Richard Castle' when you… you're such a glorious Kate Beckett. Goddess archetype or not. Deep breath, okay? I'm sorry I yelled." He felt his system take a minute to throw off the fight-or-flight hormones, felt Kate soften out of cast iron next to him. They finished their tea. "You want more tea? He's still open in there."

"I don't think having to pee will make this conversation any better, do you?"

"Actually," Rick said, "I'll be right back. Would you mind if I take your keys, just to be sure you'll still be here?"

She gave him the keys, but she went back inside with him. After one worried look, Kent ignored them, and they returned to the car both noticeably more relaxed.

"Ever wish you still smoked?"

"Oh God yes. I quit while I was still a teenager but —"

"The need for a cigarette break sometimes—"

"Yeah. How did you know I ever smoked?"

"Honestly, Rick. You were in love with Philip Marlowe. And Bogie." She wasn't in Rick's arms any more; he was back on his own side of the car. "Goddess archetype? Really?"

"Really. You were way off, the warrior maiden doesn't cover it."

"I don't see Nikki Heat in a goddessy way."

"Well, she isn't you. I could never write you." He was silent. "How do I say this?"

"You're worried about Page 105?"

"That was fiction. I don't, um, I wouldn't even kiss, and tell. I mean… the way I see you, you're unbelievable. I couldn't do you justice." And I don't want to share.

Kate was quiet for moment. "Point I had, about you making more of me than I am? Point made."

"And of course, slutty sells more books." Rick shrugged. "But I'm still right, or we wouldn't be here. We'd be dead several times. And… you're still right, it's just… hard." I love loving the you beyond who you think you are, Kate. And even if you're right, and I go too far, you don't go far enough. He sighed. "So look, what are you scared of about us saying 'love'? Try to tell me. And not about what the new captain would say, don't try to get out of it."

"People die."

"Yep, you're right about that. The loss — would you rather not have known Royce? Montgomery? Your mom? You still speak to your dad, you must still tell him you love him. I know you love people."

"It's against my better judgement."

"Just grow up, Kate." Whose mouth was that? But it went on. "There are some advantages, they let you have a driver's license and sleep with people and drink alcohol, and sometimes you can have a job that actually means something. I know you like all those things" You didn't just say you know she likes sex? Well, I think she does. (It would make it a lot more fun.) Oh, you didn't just say that to her, "and you might as well buy the package. I'm sorry. My mouth slipped. A couple of days ago I'd have told you being in love, loving people, was pretty good. And regardless what else happens tonight I'll probably say that again. Sometime." At least, see me not playing for her pity. At least, not much. At least, trying not to. Much. Did I say I wanted the jar for my heart really solid? Really strong, opaque, not to be invaded by beauty or valor or lots of other words no one uses much. "So your reasons for being afraid are: we die, we leave, we let you down?"

"You get killed because of me."

"I haven't. And I don't think that would be your choice, so it'd either be my choice, or bad luck, and the odds of dying by accident are about ten times those of getting murdered. I could get killed choking on a pretzel. Get over it. Not feeling, not loving isn't keeping you safe, and it's killing me in a way you never intended." I said that, too? "And, you know, this has nothing to do with waiting until your mother's death is solved. If you had to go throughout the world looking for a six-fingered hitman—" 'My name is Katherine Beckett, you killed my mother, prepare to die— If Kate can put up with someone with a mind like squirrel fuelled almost entirely on clichés "—maybe that would make sense. But we know all the parts are here in New York—"

"We don't know that —"

"We know enough of the parts are here. Enough of the parts to kill you, to frame the mayor, to tell me to keep you out of it—" oh shit. I said that. Rick stopped.

Kate had turned fully toward him.

"What are you talking about?"