Author's Note: Okay, so first off I have to say that snow day + insomnia = UPDATE! So be excited because it's (I hope) a good one!

Secondly, I want to thank all of you who have reviewed and put this story on alert once again. I have gotten more feedback with this story than I think I have with ANY other story I've ever written on here! That means a lot to me and makes me think I must be doing something right. It's you guys who keep stories like this going because you keep me motivated to write more and update more frequently!

Third, I do want to cover a few logistical points:

- I know Beckett drives a Crown Vic in the show, but if you remember, the windows were shattered by the second bullet in Chapter One. I thought I'd treat our lovely detective and give her a new Impala cruiser.

- This chapter takes place six months after Castle is shot. Basically what I was trying to do here is treat it as if the "show" continued on with weekly episodes, etc., leading up to this. The italicized portions would be flashbacks pertaining to "episodes," that might happen should this be canon to the show itself. Hope that makes sense.

- I am so obsessed with getting the facts right by now that I actually looked up a general timeline for recovering heart patients... I need a life.

- Slight spoilers, once again, for "Knockdown." I really, really want Monday to get here.

Lastly, I apologize if Beckett seems really girly, but I approached from the standpoint that she is about to make a potentially life-changing admission. I'd be nervous as hell in her shoes, and it was really hard for me to imagine Beckett attacking this like it was nothing. So yeah, I'm done going on like a blathering idiot-hope you enjoy!

Beckett pulled the Impala into a free space in the parking lot across from Castle's apartment, knowing she shouldn't be there. She tried to convince herself that this was a terrible idea and that she should leave. It was late, and he was probably about to go to bed. She looked at the clock in the dash, it's numbers reading nearly midnight, but the lights were still showing through the big windows on the top story.

It had been almost six months since the shooting, but she still thought about it every day. Castle had returned to the precinct three months previously, but had only come back in a full capacity a few weeks ago. During his initial recovery, it had strictly been via phone or if she'd stopped by his apartment. He'd begun complaining about the situation less than three weeks after his hospital discharge.

"I want to go back," he commented, a forlorn tone in his voice.

Beckett set her coffee cup down on "I know you do, Castle, but—" She paused a beat, letting out a breath "—I don't want you going out before you're ready."

He looked her directly in the eyes. "I am ready."

She didn't break his gaze. "Rick, listen to me. Going out in the field requires that you be fit for it. Running around catching murderers is hard enough without recovering from a major injury like yours. I can't let you do more damage than you can afford. Your recovery is more important to me than putting you in danger."

She'd expected him to argue, but the shock evident on his face at her quick admission had created a quiet awkwardness. To his credit, he'd only let it last a few seconds before changing the subject, but it didn't stop her from thinking about it constantly. While she'd meant what she'd said that night, it didn't stop the fact that she had often found herself staring at the empty chair beside her desk that she had secretly come to know as his.

Of course, he'd continued to complain until they'd all relented and allowed him back into the precinct on a regular basis two weeks after that conversation. It was amazing how much you could accomplish by not shutting up about it. He still hadn't been happy about not getting to go on arrests, but as he'd told her when he'd first come back, he would take what he could get. Now that he was cleared to follow her around everywhere again, he was completely back to normal. He smiled and flirted with her incessantly, and often tried to get a rise out of her with his crazy comments. Despite the fact that it could be irritating, she was glad to have him back. It was like old times.

But at the same time, it wasn't. As much as she'd tried to convince herself that nothing would change—that their relationship would stay as it had before—everything had changed. On the surface, all of it was the same, but there was always that dark cloud hanging in the back of her mind. Sometimes, she thought she saw it in his eyes, too. She remembered all-too-clearly the day she almost lost him. She remembered not sleeping soundly until after he woke up and she knew he would be okay, and even then, she dreamed of those shots ringing out, those grave eyes, and the blood. It had taken those six months and lots of department-suggested therapy to overcome all of it, but even now, she would sometimes be bothered by nightmares. This was one such night.

Making up her mind, Kate got out of the car and marched purposefully through two crosswalks and into his apartment building, the conversation from earlier that day.

"May I ask you a question that's been bothering me for a long time?"

Beckett scoffed. "You've been asking me random questions for three years… and you're just now deciding to ask my permission?"

Castle brushed it off. "What were you going to tell me that morning at the hospital?"

Beckett gave him a deer in the headlight look. Of all the questions he could have asked, it had to be that one. "That…" She knew she looked flustered and cursed herself for it, knowing he'd pick up on it. She blinked quickly and told a partial truth.. "That I'd missed you."

"Why, Beckett, I'm touched."

She rolled her eyes at his comment, dismissing further conversation on the matter, but she couldn't help but feel he knew she'd left something out.

She was outside his door a lot faster than she would have liked. She was beginning to have second thoughts. She hesitated while reaching for the doorbell, but refused to lose confidence and took that leap. When he answered the door, she saw his eyes go from mild annoyance to concern in mere seconds. Taking in his appearance (an old t-shirt, some sweats, and bare feet), she smiled tentatively.

"Beckett? Is everything okay?"

She decided not to complicate things right off with a response to that question. Instead, she opted for a simple "Can I come in?"

He didn't stop to think, but answered immediately, "Of course."

She stepped across the threshold, looking around for something to focus on—anything but him. The door clicked, she resisted the urge to turn around until he spoke again. "Please, sit down. Make yourself at home."

She thanked him, noting how tired he looked. Seeing his laptop sitting on the couch, she wondered how long ago he'd slept.

His gaze must have followed hers because he hurriedly went over and closed the computer. "Sorry, an idea just sort of came to me out of nowhere, and I needed to get it down."

Kate shrugged and shook her head with a smile, trusting his writing technique. He seemed as flustered as she felt. "I know it's late, I just…" She stopped, not sure how to continue now that she was actually here. She closed her eyes. She was nervous. Her heart was pounding so hard she swore he could probably hear it. When she opened her eyes again, she realized that while he'd invited her to do so, neither one of them had taken a seat.

He wasn't pushing her, as if he could sense that it was important she come by this admission on her own. She could tell, however, that he was very curious what was so special that she would come by his place so late at night to tell him and then delay the communication of it. To put it mildly, Katherine Beckett had not felt this nervous since her very first crush.

Finally throwing caution to the wind, she crossed the distance between them until they were mere inches apart. She saw him tense a little, and when her gaze met his, he seemed confused at the invasion of personal space. She spoke then, "When you asked me about the hospital, you surprised me."

"I gathered that."

"I wasn't completely truthful."

"That, too." His voice was low now, and she saw his eyes flick to her lips briefly before returning to lock with hers.

She did not waver with her next statement, "You took a bullet for me. You saved my life. I almost lost you, and despite the fact that part of me should have wanted to kill you for letting yourself get shot, somewhere along the line, I forgot to get to that part. I just wanted you to live. I hadn't felt that out of sync since my mother's murder. It made me realize how much I care about you—how much I need you. We're so much more than just partners, Rick. We're so much more than just friends. I dream about that night and I have since it happened. I see different outcomes. I see us going to the Old Haunt and having a good time, but I also see you dying, and how much I would have regretted not telling you how I feel. I almost lost you once, and I don't want to go through that uncertainty again."

He said nothing. He didn't move. She wasn't entirely sure he was even breathing. In that moment, he seemed mesmerized. Her mind flashed back to the last time she'd seen that exact expression. Cold night air, breathing uneven, heart beating rapidly… And like that night, she pulled him to her—only this time, she closed her eyes and let the kiss consume her.

Cliffhanger? Yes. Ends here? Not a chance. Update soon? Will try for tomorrow or this weekend. Review? Yes, please! :-)