Once Kate returned home from her evening with Alexis, she poured herself the glass of wine she had abstained from drinking at dinner, and gracelessly plopped down onto her couch. She contemplated watching a movie on her laptop or plucking a book from one of her many shelves, but instead she propped her feet up on the coffee table and retrieved her phone from the back of her jean's pocket.

Lanie answered on the second ring.

"Finally call to tell me about your date with Doctor Dreamy?"

Kate huffed and took a long sip from her glass.

"There's nothing to tell."

"Aww, really? I'm sorry, honey," Lanie replied, sounding truly apologetic. Her best friend had high hopes for her and Castle, but she had also encouraged her to move on after watching her trudge through the summer in not so well hidden misery. Josh had been the first man she had actually shown interest in, pictured herself dating happily, but those tentative thoughts had been smashed to smithereens before they'd even had a chance to grow.

She should have known letting Josh pick her up at the precinct would be a bad idea.

"Not a good match?" Lanie inquired softly when Kate forgot to speak.

"It wasn't that, he just - he wasn't-"

She refused to say he wasn't him. It was just – it was different. He was taller than Castle, so much so that Kate barely reached his chin even in her highest heels and his scent was too strong, too masculine and overpowering – a cologne that made her eyes water. He had a nice personality, seemed genuinely interested in her job, but talked more about his own. Josh had made the shy butterflies in her stomach flutter, but they failed to ascend into an uproar.

"It had nothing to do with Josh," she said finally. "Castle was still in the bullpen when he came to pick me up and-"

"Oh lord," Lanie sighed. "I can only imagine how writer boy handled that."

"Not well," Kate hedged, raking her fingers through her hair, curling her toes around the wooden edge of the square coffee table she had found on a solo trip through a weekend bazaar in the city. She had been looking for new furniture and the simple, honey colored little table had been one of her first purchases in the journey to rebuilding herself a home. She wasn't allowed much in the studio apartment she was renting, but at least it was her own.

"Josh and I still went to dinner, but it was awkward and he didn't see much, but I think he knew Castle was the jealous ex," she muttered, closing her lips around the glass but not tilting it up.

"So I'm assuming no second date?"

"Nope."

"Want me to come over for a late dinner?" Lanie inquired. "I'll bring your favorite bottle of red." But Kate shook her head even though Lanie couldn't see her.

"No, that's okay. I actually just got home from taking Alexis out for dinner."

"I almost forgot you still did that. Did you run into Big Castle while retrieving Little Castle?"

Kate chuckled and rubbed her eyes at Lanie's intrigued, teasing tone.

"Yeah, we talked a little when I got there," she murmured too quietly, and Lanie went eerily silent, a contemplative kind of silence that filled Kate with instant dread.

"Hold up a second," Lanie interrupted suddenly. "I know this voice. This is the writer boy's got my panties in a bunch voice."

Kate growled. "It is not."

"Oh yes it is, which tells me something happened. Spill. Now."

Beckett winced and leant forward to set her half empty wine glass on the table before pressing back into the couch and closing her eyes.

"We kissed."

Lanie squealed and Kate held the phone away from her, rolled her eyes, and returned the device to her ear when Lanie was finished.

"This is not a good thing," she hissed. "We're not supposed to be kissing. We're not even supposed to be…"

"C'mon Beckett," Lanie said, softer now. "I know he hurt you, believe me. And I'm not saying that you should just forget that," she added quickly before Kate could proffer up her usual side of this argument. "But you have to remember, you hurt him too, and he's obviously not just going to give up when the guy clearly still has feelings for you and you still have feelings for him."

"I do n-"

"Katherine Beckett."

"Fine," Kate drawled out the word. "Maybe I do. But what if-"

"No, no what if's. Not yet," Lanie insisted adamantly. "Listen, I'm not saying dive back into a serious relationship with him, not yet. But you're allowed to dip your toes in, test the waters. Make out with him if you feel like it."

Kate dug her elbows into her thighs and buried her face in her hands. She hadn't had enough wine for this conversation.

"So, how was it?"

Kate's brow creased. "What?"

"The kiss," Lanie huffed in exasperation. "Was it as good as you remember?"

Beckett hesitated, but sighed. No point in trying to deny it when Lanie would see right through her anyway. She always did when they talked of her relationship with Rick.

"Yeah. Even - it was better than I remembered," she admitted. "I didn't even hear Alexis walk in on us."

Lanie gasped and then sent her a reprimanding tsk. "You two are going to scar that poor girl so bad."

"It was one other time," Beckett defended but eventually found herself joining in with Lanie's laughter and loosening her grip on the daunting trepidation that plagued her thoughts of Castle and that kiss.

When Alexis walked through the door, he felt the crestfallen expression involuntarily claim his face. He didn't know why he had expected to see Kate with her; she had never followed his daughter up before. But she had never come to the door to pick her up for one of their impromptu girls nights either.

"Hey sweetie, how was dinner?" he said cheerfully, recovering before Alexis could see any of it on his face.

"Fine," she chirped, hanging her coat up and moving to the kitchen to slip a box of leftovers in the fridge.

He knew he was hovering, hoping for something, something about Kate, but Alexis – whether truly oblivious or not – merely pecked his forehead and wished him a goodnight, like always. Castle huffed and dropped back to the couch where he had remained since Alexis had left over two hours ago.

"What's the matter, kiddo?" Martha asked, breezing into the room.

His mother had returned home an hour ago, while his daughter was still out with the detective, and somehow – motherly instincts, she had called it – she had already known why he was sitting forlornly on the couch, staring mindlessly past the active television screen. Alexis had likely told her where she would be tonight and every time his daughter went out with Kate, he always tended to pout. He had gotten better over the last month, not thinking so hard about her when he knew she was so close by, but now he was back to his dejected ways. All he could think about was kissing her, how right it had felt to finally kiss her again.

"She kissed me," he sighed, fiddling with the remote, flicking the TV off.

"Katherine?" she assumed, but it was a redundant question and he only nodded. "I would expect quite the opposite reaction."

"I was hoping… I thought maybe she would come back with Alexis," he admitted, feeling so stupid for it, even more foolish saying the expectation aloud.

"Just because she didn't come up doesn't mean all is doomed, Richard," Martha reasoned softly, taking a seat on the plush armchair positioned diagonally from his side of the couch.

"She'll probably just pretend it never happened," he muttered, suddenly bitter, but Martha grabbed his wrist when he rose to stalk away to his office.

"Then don't let her. Honestly, you two need to learn to speak to one another. Communicate," Martha declared, enunciating the word with an added flair of her usual dramatics, but her eyes were serious. This was important and she knew how much it meant to him, a chance at having Kate back in his life. "You fell apart because you didn't listen to her, right?"

He pursed his lips but nodded glumly.

"Well, that needs to change. You want her back, show her, tell her. And don't expect it all to happen in a single day, my boy. You know just as well as I do that true love takes time."

Castle smiled warmly at his mother, bent forward to kiss her head. "You're right."

And she was. Regardless of his mother's own hectic example of a love life, she did know what real love was, and she had always told him, even after it was over, that she saw it between him and Kate. He did too.

"Of course I'm right," Martha replied, lifting from the armchair and sauntering back in the direction of the stairs, the colorful silk of her robe billowing behind her.

"Thank you," he called after her and she waved him off, but gave him a reassuring wink over her shoulder.

"Anytime."

Castle came into the precinct the next day determined. She hadn't called, hadn't informed him of any new case, but he still found her at her desk, working diligently on the paperwork in front of her.

"Hey."

Kate lifted her head, smiled softly at the coffee he set in front of her.

"Hey, thank you," she murmured, taking a grateful sip.

"Of course. Can I ask you something?"

The cup was still at her lips, but she lowered it back to her desk, folded her hands under her chin and nodded her affirmation.

"Go ahead."

She looked anxious, like she was terrified he was going to bring up what had happened in the doorway of his loft the night before, but that wasn't his intention. Not yet.

"Do you want to get something to eat, for lunch?"

Gentle surprise flurried through her features and she released a soft exhale, a sigh of relief. There was a touch of apprehension; he had a feeling there would be for a while, but he could handle that. He would rid her of it with time and gestures and proof.

"Sure. Remy's okay with you? I'm craving a milkshake."

He grinned, brushed a fleeting hand down her forearm and watched her bite her lower lip – uncertain but not shrinking away from his brief touch. It gave him hope.

"Sounds perfect."