A/N: You continue to astound me with your enthusiasm and love for this story. Thank you so much for sharing your views.

Chapter 13 – Dwelling

Castle is perched on the arm of her sofa, chatting to Alexis on his cell phone while watching Kate Beckett potter around her kitchen late on a Saturday afternoon, and he feels like the luckiest guy in the world.

"Dad!" Alexis demands in a burst of frustration, trying to grab his attention which has evidently wandered elsewhere.

Castle's head snaps down, eyes focused on the coffee table – a far safer, less distracting place to look than the spot his eyes have remained riveted to up until now. "Yes, pumpkin?"

"Are you and Beckett an item or not?"

"We are," he grins, and even he can hear the giddy delight in his own voice.

He is so done for when they finally have to leave Kate's apartment and confront the outside world. Their relationship is going to remain a secret for all of five seconds if can't find a way to tamp down his excitement and wipe the dreamy grin off his face when they're around other people – particularly a certain male detective duo they know.

Alexis squeals, and it's so unexpected and piercing at the same time that Kate spins around to stare at him, a kitchen towel dangling from her damp hands. Her mouth drops open and her eyes widen in surprise.

"Finally! That's is so cool. Tell Detective Beckett I said hi," Alexis instructs her dad, leaving his mouth hanging open too, since even Alexis has managed to surprise him with her positive, enthusiastic reaction to his happy news.

Kate leaves the room while he's still chatting to his daughter, ruffling his hair affectionately as she passes. He manages to smack her on the rear before she moves completely out of reach, and she lets out a yelp of surprise that sets him off chuckling.

"Eww. Are you two being sickeningly adorable already?" asks Alexis, her tone quickly turned disdainful.

Castle can imagine her pale little nose wrinkled in distaste, her blemish-free forehead marred by a frown.

"Come on, we've always been adorable," argues Castle, roaring with laughter when Alexis makes retching sounds down the phone.

He's still smiling when he ends the call a few minutes later just as Kate returns to the living room. She's carrying a bulky, navy blue plush bathrobe.

"This should fit," she tells him, holding the robe open for him. "Lanie stole it from a hotel in Vegas a couple of years ago, then she palmed it off on me because it was far too long for her. I think it's man-size."

"If you can't do the time, don't do the crime," sings-songs Castle, shrugging the robe on over the t-shirt and underwear he currently has on.

"Fits not bad," remarks Kate, tugging on the broad lapels until they're toe-to-toe and he's grinning down at her.

Castle slings his arms low down on her waist, clasping them behind her back, holding her snugly against him.

"Navy is definitely your color," she whispers, nudging his nose with her own.

"Mm, you like?" he grins, arching one eyebrow. A little sexy, a little cocky.

"Definitely," she agrees, stretching up on tiptoe to kiss him, her fingers still gripping firmly to his lapels, partly for balance and partly because she just doesn't want to let go of him.

And unshaven Richard Castle, wrapped up in plush, is one of the sexiest and yet most adorable sights she's ever seen.

They're busy enjoying their new favorite hobby – slow, deep, languorous kissing – hands starting to roam over and under clothing, just on the point of getting a little too excited, when her front door buzzer sounds.

"Dinner," sighs Kate regretfully, sinking back down onto her heels. She props her forehead against his shoulder for a second to catch her breath, pressing her fingertips to her damp lips.

Castle rubs her back, a gentle, lazy circle of his hand that sooths her, until the buzzer sounds again - a longer, more demanding tone this time - and they reluctantly pull apart.

"My wallet is in my pants, and my pants are…God, where did I leave my pants, Beckett?" he wails, spinning helplessly in the center of her living room.

"Relax, I got it," laughs Kate, already heading for the door with her own wallet in her hand.

Of the pair of them, she is most definitely the more presentable. She has leggings on, bare feet, and a white t-shirt under a grey hooded top. Castle is stranded in a hotel bathrobe with wrinkled, day-old boxer shorts and a borrowed NYPD t-shirt. Not exactly how he wants to meet her neighbors if they chance to pass by on their way down the hall.

"Grab the plates from the oven," Kate yells over her shoulder, while she pays and tips the delivery boy, juggling the door and their food.

Castle looks as if his mouth might be watering when she returns to the kitchen with the large take-out pizza box. He follows her as if she's the Pied Piper and he's some spellbound little kid, which he kind of is in a way.

"God, that smells so good," he declares, stretching across to lift the lid when she puts the box down on her kitchen table.

Kate slaps the back of his hand with a silicone slotted spatula. "Nah-ah! Napkins and plates," she insists, one hand on her hip, pointing him in the other direction with the spatula.

"Oh God, my work wife just became my—"

"Do not say it," grins Kate, wagging a finger at him to make him shut up. "Do not say it or there will be no dessert for you."

"What's for dessert?" asks Castle boldly, eyes dancing with fun. "I mean, do you mean an actual dessert. Or are we talking sex here?"

Kate stills and eyes him suspiciously. "Will it make a difference?"

"Well…I really like ice cream, but…"

"But?" asks Kate, narrowing her eyes at him dangerously. "I'd be careful what you say next, Castle, if I were you."

"What happened to 'lover boy'?" he grins cheekily, taunting her with air quotes.

"Lover boy will be demoted back down to 'writer boy' pretty quickly if he doesn't watch what he's saying," she tells him, fetching the warm plates from the oven herself.

When Kate turns around again, Castle has the lid of the pizza box open and a slice of pepperoni halfway to his lips. A long string of melted Mozzarella is trailing out behind the red-hot piece of cured sausage meat like some cheesy umbilicus.

Nowhere to hide and nowhere to run.

"Are you always so…wait, what am I even saying?" she asks herself, slapping a hand to her forehead. "Like I should be surprised that now we're sleeping together you're still not following orders."

Castle is blowing on his burnt fingertips. "Beckett, relax," he tells her, living dangerously for some reason, "It's just pepperoni."

"No, it's a principle," she argues, really talking more about his general inability to follow orders than the topping he just pinched off their pizza.

And instantly they are back to being them, the awkward newness of the situation beginning to fade already.

"I'm hungover. We haven't eaten in hours, you…excuse me, but you just fucked my brains out, and now you want me to get all principled about pepperoni?" smirks Castle, playing up to his traditional comedic role.

Kate bites her lip in an attempt to stifle the smile demanding to break out all over her face and she slowly shakes her head.

"Fine. Help yourself," she sighs, waving a hand at the food and giving in to him. "But drop the hangover nonsense. After what we just did in there," she adds, waving the spatula towards the bedroom, "that defense won't stand up in court."

She suspects she might find herself giving in to his 'demands' a whole lot more from now on. She's as much of a lost cause as he is when it comes to indulging her partner, now that the last bricks have toppled from that shaky wall that stood between them and coupledom.

"Ha! You know I'm right," Castle crows, while Kate efficiently splits the pizza onto two plates.

"Just bring the napkins," she tells him, trying to summon a withering look and failing miserably.

She's too happy to have him here. It's a weekend and they have tentative plans, and okay it's only to go back to bed again, but she isn't alone, doing laundry or catching a movie by herself. She might never need to go to a movie alone again, she realizes, and that is a really good feeling.

They sit at her dining table, catty corner to one another, to enjoy their food. Kate has one foot up on her chair, knee poking just above the tabletop, while her other leg swings ceaselessly back and forth beneath the table, and she talks with her hands in between feeding herself healthy bites of pizza.

Castle misses his mouth a couple of times just watching her entertain him in this easy, relaxed manner, which he supposes partly comes from being in her own home. Their guards are completely down. Kate has never looked so relaxed to him before – free of worry and responsibility. She seems so comfortable and at ease, and he hopes that he has at least something to do with that, because she looks genuinely happy.

"What?" she asks self-consciously, when Castle gives up trying to eat altogether and just sits back in his chair, sipping his water and watching her instead.

"You," he replies with an easy smile, stealing a black olive off her plate while her attention is elsewhere, popping it between his smile-stretched lips.

"Me what? And eat your own food, Castle," he scolds him, drawing her plate further out of his reach.

It doesn't work. He just uses his long arm to reach over and snaffle another one, popping it into his mouth with a bold little grin.

"Is that supposed to be cute?" asks Kate, her eyebrows raised in question.

"Depends."

"On what?"

"Your point of view."

Kate sighs, dumps her napkin on the table and sits back. "Right, enlighten me," she tells him, waving her hand for him to spill his explanation; one she's sure will have a unique, amusing, Castle twist to it.

"Well, you think I'm cute, right?" he says confidently, as if this is a well-known, cast-iron fact. He gives her no time to reply, just carries on with his theory. "And lovers eating food off each other's plates is always cute. Ergo…yes, this is definitely cute."

"But you said depends, inferring that it might not be cute," Kate points out craftily.

"Well, yeah," Castle shrugs, as if it should be patently obvious why not. "If you're Esposito this would not be cute. Guy doesn't have a sentimental bone in his body."

Kate laughs in surprise. "Oh, come on. That's hardly fair or accurate."

"You honestly think he'd find me eating your food cute? He'd probably cuff me to the chair. Both hands," adds Castle, performing a little jazz hands display in front of her.

"I think you're being a little dramatic," declares Kate, tearing off a piece of cheese and then licking her fingers after she daintily puts it in her mouth.

"How long have you known me? This surprises you?" asks Castle, deadpan.

"True."

"How'd you think he'll take it? Us."

"Who, Espo?"

"Mmm," nods Castle, taking a long drink of water.

Kate watches his throat bob as he swallows, and then she licks her own lips when he flicks his tongue out to catch a water droplet before it can run down his chin.

"You know you're totally making love to me with your eyes and your mouth right now," Castle teases her, chuckling when a blush rushes up her neck to color her cheeks.

Kate tosses her napkin at his face and then abruptly rises to clear their plates, the back legs of her chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor.

Castle stands too, still laughing quietly as he follows her into the kitchen.

Kate empties discarded pieces of crust into the trash and sets the pizza box aside for recycling, while castle runs hot water into the sink and begins washing their dishes. The scene is one of utter domesticity - the kind of practiced teamwork displayed by married couples or two people who have been living together for a long time. The significance is lost on neither of them eventually.

"We're good at this," notes Castle, handing Kate a plate to dry.

"Washing dishes?" she laughs, giving him a strange look.

"Teamwork," he tells her, shaking his head at her giggling.

"Right, teamwork," repeats Kate, sobering up.

She feels giddy with relief at their recent achievements, and those feelings keep bubbling up to the surface, no matter how she tries to contain them.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" asks Castle, and Kate feels a tremor of trepidation shoot through her.

She tries hard to sound breezy when she replies. "Sure."

"When you were seeing Dr. Burke…"

"Mmm?"

"Did he ever…I don't know, suggest it might not be a good idea to continue pursuing your mom's case?"

Kate looks up sharply at his question. "No. I—no, why would he?"

Now it's Castle's turn to feel a little panicked. He shouldn't have gone there, he quickly realizes, and so he tries to pass his question off as unimportant curiosity.

He shakes his head and carries on cleaning the kitchen with more diligence than necessary. "No reason. Just…" He shrugs.

"Come on, that question did not come from nowhere, Castle. You must have had a reason for asking," Kate pushes gently.

"Just…sometimes I wonder if it would be safer if…if we dropped it."

"Safer? Castle, they killed my mother," emphasizes Kate, if any emphasis were needed.

Internally, he's suddenly tied up in knots, while externally, he tries to figure out a way to calm things down, smooth over his ill-judged question; one that is really just a projection of his own fears and guilt.

Before they can get into it anymore, there's a sharp knock at the front door.

Kate glances at the door, frowning, and then she looks back at Castle. She lightly touches his arm. "Let me see who that is. I'll be right back," she tells him, squeezing his wrist, her mind obviously somewhere else.

Castle carries on clearing up and putting the dishes away. He's kicking himself for injecting this dark and serious subject matter into what was turning out to be such a peaceful, happy weekend off for her.

He glances over at the door when he runs out of surfaces to wipe down or things to put away. He can hear Kate talking to someone, an older woman's voice making up the other half of the conversation, and he waits for her a few seconds longer in the kitchen before wandering off into the bedroom so that she doesn't come back in and think he was eavesdropping.

He collects his pants and shirt off the chair in the living room on his way past, along with the blankets Kate gave him the night before. He finds a hanger in her closet and hangs his clothes up, and then he folds the blankets and lays them on top of the dresser while he makes the bed. He's just smoothing down the navy comforter when Kate appears in the bedroom doorway.

"House broken and well trained. You are a catch," she grins, resting her head on the doorjamb to watch him.

Castle spins guiltily. "Ha!" he laughs, at her joke. "Figure I'm lazing around your apartment in a robe and my underwear. That's hardly impressive, so…thought the least I could do is tidy up after myself," he shrugs.

Kate walks towards him smiling. "I like you just fine like this," she tells him, wrapping the robe a little tighter over his chest. "More than fine, actually."

"Everything okay out there?" asks Castle, nodding towards the front door.

"Oh, that? Yeah. That was just my neighbor, Mrs. Henderson. She likes to corner me for a gossip every now and then. I guess she must have heard us moving around in here, knew I was home. She's a massive true crime fan and a little lonely. Likes to pump me for information on my latest case. I think she believes one day she'll help me solve one."

"And you tell her stuff?" Castle asks in surprise.

Kate laughs and shakes her head. "No, no way. Come on, you know me. I barely told you stuff in the beginning, and we were supposed to be working together."

"You kept me out of the loop on purpose?" pouts Castle, as if this is news.

"Sometimes," nods Kate, playfully tugging on the tie of his robe. "But usually it was for your own good…that, or my own sanity."

"Aw-shucks, I'm touched," he tells her, kissing the tip of her nose.

"You should be. Anyone else would have been sent packing long ago, friend of the Mayor or not."

"So you did like me," Castle says, with an ah-ha point of his finger.

"I liked your joie de vie, your…enthusiasm and your optimistic take on life. There's a difference."

But the way she's smiling at him as she tells him this, he doesn't care about distinctions. She liked him then and she loves him now, and that's all there is to it.

"Can we go up on the roof?" asks Castle, changing the subject.

"Might be cold."

"We could take blankets?" he suggests, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Well, I was going to ask if you wanted coffee. But how about I make us hot chocolate and we take that up with us?"

"I knew there was a reason I fell in love with you…besides your beautiful—"

"Careful, Castle!" warns Kate, leading him back out towards the kitchen.

"Mind! Your beautiful mind," smirks Castle.

"Mmm-hmm," hums Kate, dubiously.

Kate makes the hot chocolate, while Castle goes back to the bedroom to get dressed. She gathers a couple of blankets and two old cushions for them to sit on, and then they carry the whole lot up the internal staircase from her kitchen to the little rooftop garden terrace she has all to herself.

A blast of cool, fresh air hits Castle as soon as he follows her out through the door at the top of the stairs, carrying the two mugs of hot chocolate. But it feels fantastic after being indoors all night and most of the day so far. The lungsful of fresh oxygen he breathes in feel invigorating and help clear the last of his tired, fuzzy head.

"Kate, this is amazing," he tells her, turning in a circle to admire her little patch of heaven.

She has a bench tucked up against the protective wall of the building and trough-like planters placed here and there to grow fresh herbs and flowers.

"Haven't been up here in a while, like I said," she reminds him, brushing her hand over an over-grown lavender bush, the leaves turned a pale greyish color out of season, all the flowers now dried and weather-bleached to a dusty lilac.

"Why don't we sit for a bit out of the wind and drink these before they go cold," suggests Kate, laying the two cushions down on the bench.

Once Castle is seated beside her, she spreads one blanket over their laps and wraps the second one around their shoulders. Only then does Castle hand her a mug of hot chocolate.

"Settled?" he asks, carefully placing the cup in her grasp.

"Yip. I can't believe the sun is almost set already," says Kate, looking over at a taller building nearby whose lights are already illuminated on most of the floors, throwing out a yellowish glow.

The view from her rooftop is a typical Greenwich Village vista – angular old buildings made of red brick, some painted white or cream, stretch out below, staggered in height, like ancient blocks of Lego. Black, wrought iron fire escapes snake back and forth down the facades of these buildings like jagged, hand-stitched scars. The block opposite hers is taller – over ten stories high – and so a bleached wooden water tower rises up on spindly metal legs, its circular pointed 'hat' of a roof reminding Castle once more of the Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz. Endless boxy air conditioning units hum on rooftops all around them, adding another familiar feature to this snapshot of Manhattan skyline.

The surface of Kate's roof is decked out, and a waist-high wall runs all the way round the perimeter, potted plants sheltering in the corners out of the wind.

Kate cups her mug between both hands and blows on the surface of the hot drink before sipping.

"We need to use the last couple of days as a lesson, Castle," she tells him, after a quiet moment's pause.

"And the lesson is?" he asks, leaning into her a little more.

"That we both took a chance, even though we were scared and hurt and maybe a little angry at each other, and that leap of faith turned into this."

"Hot chocolate on your roof terrace while we watch the sunset on a landmark Saturday?" he offers.

Kate laughs quietly at Castle's summation. "Yeah, pretty much."

"And I think that's pretty amazing. I know I can be a flippant jackass sometimes, and I make light of things when maybe I shouldn't."

"Hey, we all need our coping mechanisms."

"Still, I just want you to know how special the last couple of days have turned out to be. I have loved you so long and so hard from afar, and on Friday afternoon when I left the precinct, I thought I was still miles away from having another chance to tell you that, never mind getting to be here with you, Kate."

"That's what I mean about the lesson we need to take from all of this. We were only ever one awkward conversation away from building some kind of future together this whole time…if that's where we're headed with this."

"Is it?" asks Castle, a little sharply, betraying his own anxiety on the matter.

He glances at Kate to try to read her expression. It's getting dark quickly now, the setting sun is throwing up an arc of orange, peach and gold beneath a dark grey and purple heather colored sky. But Kate's face is bathed in shadows, her hair silhouetted against the halo of warm light shining through her apartment's pebbled glass windows at the top of the stairs to the rooftop.

"I'd like it to be. Very much. I know it might seem crazy to some people, given our vastly different backgrounds, but somehow we just…"

Kate shrugs, and then, simultaneously, they both say, "Fit."

They laugh quietly at this further example of their synchronicity, and then glance at one another shyly.

Castle clinks his mug against Kate's. "Then here's to the future, Detective, whatever it may hold for us. Bring it on."

"Here, here," agrees Kate.

She finishes her hot chocolate and puts her mug down on the end of the old bench.

"So, I heard Alexis squeal over the phone. Should I be worried?" she asks, drawing the blanket tighter around them.

"Worried? No," chuckles Castle, putting his own mug aside and slipping his arm around her shoulders beneath the covers. "Unless you're not keen on my teenage daughter pestering you for tales of your college days or general advice on life and fashion. She's pretty much in awe of you, you know."

"In awe?" asks Kate, turning to stare at Castle in surprise. "I thought she hated me."

"No, she never hated you. I'm not even sure she's capable of hating anyone. Just look at her mother. She's protective of me, so she worries. I think it comes from having only one reliable parent. When she sees me sad or upset…" he shrugs, "…she takes is personally."

"I know I have work to do to prove myself to both Alexis and Martha. But I'm not afraid of that anymore…I'm not afraid of letting them see how I really feel about you. I will be there for you as much as you've been there for me from now on, Castle. There's no reason not to be anymore."

"Does that mean you'll protect me from over-sexed female fans at book signings?" teases Castle, bumping her with his shoulder.

"I would happily have done that before. But firstly, I thought you kind of liked the attention, and secondly, I think it might have looked a little strange if I'd stepped in and staked a claim."

"But you'd be willing to now?"

"How over-sexed are we talking here? I might just have to."

Castle laughs and Kate drops her head down to rest on his shoulder.

"While we're on the subject, can we have a new rule for book events?" she asks, placing her hand on his leg.

"Let me guess," grins Castle, turning to kiss the top of her head. "No more breast signing?"

"How did you know?" laughs Kate, rocking against his side.

"Wild guess. You didn't approve before. So, I hardly think you'd find it appropriate now. While we're thrashing things out, can I ask for a new rule too?"

"You can try," chuckles Kate, sighing into the darkness, feeling relaxed and at peace.

"Actually, I have two."

"Right," says Kate slowly. "What the first one?"

"Marshmallows and whipped cream are essential ingredients for making hot chocolate. You let me stock your pantry with proper food?"

"Proper food?" asks Kate, thoroughly amused. "So, a can of whipped cream and a bag of marshmallows are your idea of proper food?"

"Plus popcorn and ice cream. Tell me you at least have those?" he asks, as if he's just asked whether she brought her gun and cuffs to serve a warrant.

Kate ignores his question. "And the second new rule?"

"Talk to me." His face is deadly serious when he makes this request.

Kate sits up straight. "What, that's it?" she asks in surprise, prepared to have to negotiate a more ludicrous request.

"Yep, that's it. But you don't always do that, Kate, in case you hadn't noticed. And by talk I mean share. If you're worried about something or…or sad or have some kind of problem, I want you to tell me so that we can talk about it and find a solution together. Can you do that?"

"I will certainly try. But I've been alone for a long time, Castle, don't forget. Even in the past, when I was with someone, I never shared my innermost thoughts with them. I just got on with life and figured things out for myself."

"Yeah, well this is different. Now, things are different. We're different," Castle tells her, and for once he sounds serious, mature and determined. "You're not alone anymore, Kate. So, let…me…in," he tells her, punctuating each word with a kiss.

Kate nods and when a surprising gust of wind whips over the parapet of the roof, she feels the moisture of her own tears on her cheeks. She's glad of the darkness all of a sudden. The wind makes her shiver, and Castle squeezes her tighter.

"Ready to go back down?"

"Yeah," she nods, leaning in to kiss him softly, lingering for a few seconds.

She slips her arm free of the blanket and cups the back of his neck, drawing him down towards her. Her fingers slide through his hair and Castle makes such a needful sound at this gentle caress, moaning into her mouth, his tongue stroking hers, and heat flares low down in her stomach, licking at her insides.

Kate pulls out of the kiss first and drops her forehead against his. "Come on. Let's go back inside," she tells him, tangling their fingers together. "I feel like an early night."

TBC...

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