Again, sorry this took so long! This story keeps getting pushed to the backburner for one reason or another. But I promise that I am still working on it! All of you who've been patiently waiting, you're awesome. Thank you so much.

So obviously, this story deals with Kate's mom's death. At this point, if that's a secret you've seriously missed something. And also probably obviously at this point, since I'm assuming most of you have seen it by now, "Knockdown" also dealt with that. I was a little nervous that some of the information that came out in that episode was going to mess with my premise, or at least whack out a few of my details, but conveniently it really didn't at all. Actually, it seems that they've added a year between "Sucker Punch" and "Knockdown" for the sole purpose of not throwing me off. Okay, I'm sure that wasn't actually the sole purpose. But does it seem weird to anyone else that in "Sucker Punch" they said it had been ten years since Johanna was killed, and then in "Knockdown," which as far as I can figure would've been a year later, Beckett said it was twelve years ago? It's convenient for my purposes though, because I've already said that this takes place on the eleven year anniversary, which would put it between the two episodes chronologically, and actually works out quite nicely. Okay, you can read now.

She glanced at her father's watch, which she'd put on that morning along with the chain that held her mother's ring, despite her lack of motivation to make herself ready for the day in any other way. Actually, in truth, what she did that morning had prepared her for the day, but only that day. She'd seen no reason to put on makeup, get dressed, or do anything with her hair, given that she wasn't really planning on seeing anyone.

Although Castle's arrival hadn't exactly surprised her, she'd been far from expecting it. And as many times as she told herself that he'd seen her in all kinds of situations before, and that she was sure he didn't mind that she looked like crap, she couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable that he had to see her looking this level of disheveled. As much as she knew she shouldn't care, she didn't want this to be the image that he saw in his head when he thought of her.

So when he left, she decided to take the opportunity to make herself look halfway presentable. She changed into jeans and a sweater, still comfortable but a little less just-rolled-out-of-bed, and brushed her hair. She even put on a little lip gloss, although she skipped the eye makeup, recognizing that it would probably be a bad idea.

She told herself that in a few hours she'd have to go to the cemetery and the store to get the flowers, so Castle wasn't the only one that would have to look at her. And this was true. But she also had another reason, separate from Castle, separate from anyone else, for spending the time that he was gone the way she did. Now that she'd had him with her, literally and figuratively keeping her tethered to reality, she was a little afraid to venture back into her thoughts and memories by herself. If she thought about it logically, she knew it would be okay. She'd done it every other year. She knew how to pull herself out. By tomorrow, she might be a little tired, a little emotionally drained, but other than that everything would be fine. Everything would be perfectly normal. But now that she knew what it was like not to have to face the day alone, she didn't want to go back to that.

This in mind, she took as long getting ready as she could, which admittedly wasn't that long because there wasn't much she had to do. It was her way of keeping herself occupied, to keep herself from thinking.

When she finished, she milled around her apartment aimlessly for a bit, trying to avoid sitting down. She went into the kitchen and got two plates, then went back out to her little living area and set them on the coffee table. She went back to the kitchen and opened the fridge, and realized with disappointment but not surprise that she didn't really have anything to drink. So she got two glasses from the cupboard, filled them with tap water and ice, and put them on the coffee table with the plates.

Out of ideas, she finally did sit down. She checked her watch again. He'd been gone twenty minutes. She figured it would take him at least ten more by the time he got the food and made it back.

She found herself unable to keep from thinking, but her thoughts didn't go in the direction she would've expected. Instead, she found herself thinking about him.

He'd come over. She hadn't sent him away. She didn't mind having him around. Actually, she very much liked having him around. These things meant something. And then there was the fact that he and Gina had broken up… on the very same day that she and Josh had, the strange turn of events that had inspired her embarrassing little bout of hysterics earlier.

But it was Castle. She felt like she'd known him forever. She hadn't, but she felt like she had. She could scarcely remember what her job had been like without him following her around like a lost puppy dog, without his surprisingly valuable insights.

What they were doing today, though, was completely separate from work. She guessed his being there today could be explained by friendship, but the way he'd kept putting his hand on her back, the way she'd rested her head on his shoulder… could that? Was fairly intimate physical contact normal between friends? Was any of this even as intimate as she thought, or was she reading too much into it? Would she have done it with any of her other friends? Lanie? Yeah, probably. But girl friends were different, somehow. Ryan or Esposito? No way.

So what did that mean? Castle was just a different kind of guy from Ryan and Esposito? But he wasn't. Not really. Obviously all three of them had their own qualities, but they were also very similar in a lot of basic ways. The more she thought about it, the more it seemed to her that there was a little more than friendship going on between her and Castle.

On any other day, this thought would've scared her. But after the way he'd shown up here today, after he'd been saying and doing exactly the right things at exactly the right times? She couldn't remember what she had to be afraid of. She was sure by tomorrow she'd remember, but right now? Right now she knew he was coming back, knew he'd be there with her again in a matter of minutes, and with that knowledge, she was content.

She found herself wishing her mom could meet Castle. She would've liked him, she decided. He was a good guy. She seldom ever thought of the two of them together. They were such different parts of her life, key players in very different scenes. She realized that if her mom hadn't been killed, she might never have become a cop, in which case she probably wouldn't have ever met Castle.

She'd learned years ago not to play the "what if" game. All it did was hold her back. It didn't accomplish anything and it didn't make her feel any better. But imagining Castle and her mother in the same world… she knew she wasn't fully in control of her emotions today, and a lot of them weren't making sense, but this thought almost made her smile.

Finally her door sounded and she answered it, unsurprised by who was on the other side, the same person she'd just been thinking about. "You look better," he said with a small smile. "You didn't do that for my benefit, I hope?"

"You flatter yourself," she bantered. "No, I have to go out in a little while, remember? Couldn't have gone out looking like I did." Actually she'd done it before, but he didn't have to know that.

"You could have. But you look nice."

She rolled her eyes, taking the bag of food from his hand. "I do not look nice. I look a little less disgusting than I did before, that's all." She set the food on the coffee table with the plates and drinks she'd already gotten ready.

"You never look disgusting," Castle said, his face sober. "Wow, you've been busy."

"Not really. It's not like this took long."

"You're very argumentative right now." He opened one of the containers in the bag and spooned some pasta onto his plate. "I'm glad. I feel like I have my Beckett back."

She ignored the fact that he'd just referred to her as "his," although it made her heart jump a little. "I've been here the whole time."

He shook his head as he started to eat. "No you haven't. You've been different. You're different when you're thinking about your mom. And that's fine. But it's true."

She shrugged as she put some food on her own plate. "It's not like it's something I do on purpose."

"I know! I know it's not. That's not what I'm saying. I'm just saying—I don't know what I'm saying."

She smirked. "That's a first."

"No it's not."

"Now who's being argumentative?"

He sighed. "Just eat your food."

She did, both because she was hungry and because she was anxious to end the conversation, or more accurately lack thereof, that they were currently having. "This is good."

"I know. It's the best Italian food in the city. Well, best takeout in the city, anyway."

"Where's it from? For future reference?"

"Ah, if I told you, I'd have to kill you."

"Mafia run, then?"

He laughed. "No, I'm just not willing to give away my secrets."

She shrugged. "Nothing would surprise me."

"I'm glad. I like being a wildcard." He smiled at her, something different in his eyes. She'd been watching him watch her all morning, and she hadn't seen this yet. It wasn't sympathy or compassion or trying to cheer her up. She couldn't tell what it was exactly.

"What?" she asked, feeling a trace of a confused smile on her lips.

"I like being a wildcard?" he repeated.

"No, what were you just thinking?"

He shook his head. "Nothing."

"Come on, you were too." She smiled, a real, broad smile this time, her first one all day. Her first one on this particular date in eleven years.

"No!" he whined. "No, that's not fair. I'm completely helpless against your smile today, and you shouldn't use it against me like that."

She said the first thing that popped into her head. "Just today?" She blushed, hearing Lanie's voice in her head: Girl, what's gotten into you?

But he grinned, smacking her arm playfully. "No, not just today, actually. I thought I was supposed to be the smartass."

"Why won't you tell me?"

"Because it's creepy."

"Well, I already know you're creepy, so I don't know what you're worried about."

"Ha ha. You're very funny today." His voice dripped with teasing sarcasm. "Hilarious."

"Come on, Castle." She raised her eyebrows and made her face serious, deciding she'd play the cards she'd been dealt. "I'll smile again."

"You are ridiculous." He took a bite of his food. "But you're good."

"Are you gonna tell me or not?"

"It's just…" He actually blushed. She hadn't thought Castle capable of feeling embarrassment. Apparently she was wrong. "You just look pretty."

She rolled her eyes. "We've been through this. No I don't."

"No, see, this is where it gets kind of creepy. Something about your eyes, the way they're red from crying… it makes them look greener."

She smirked. "Yeah, you're right, that's a little creepy." Or, it would've been if it had come from anyone else, in any other situation. As it was…?

He nodded. "Didn't I tell you?"

"Definitely metrosexual."

He rolled his eyes. "Guess I set myself up for that."

"But sweet." What was she doing?

"Yeah?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

This chapter? Giant bundle of fluff. I'm aware. It was fun to write though. I like banter. I'm hoping that scene at the end comes of the way I want it to also, but I'm not sure how well it worked. So here's hoping. It's kind of funny that this was initially supposed to be my sad, angsty story and next to Daylight it's turning into the fluffy one. I'm thinking the next chapter will have more depth to it. And hopefully won't take quite as long to get finished. In the meantime, I love reviews! Big thank you to all my loyal readers/reviewers!