Disclaimer: I don't own... actually, it will take to long to mention all the things I don't own. I own a pair of shoes, half a bottle of water, and that's about it. Other people own all other things.

A/N: This is turning into an after 'Always' story, which I don't want to do, so ... wrap it up and do a sequel, or just do a jump-forward past all the angsty stuff that other people are doing a better job with anyway?

Castle wakes slowly, reaches out across the bed for Kate. He just comes up with empty sheets.

Well, that's not good.

He reaches around, looks under her pillow. He then realizes that she's not a leprechaun, and so finding her under the pillow is unlikely. He puts it down. The bed is still warm on her side, so he didn't dream the previous night.

Duane Reede, a SMARTcar, foregoing sex for pizza - yeah, there isn't enough alcohol in the world for him to have dreamt last night.

He gets up, throws on sweatpants and his favorite Green Lantern t-shirt. He's still peeved at Ryan Reynolds, but the guy who does the voice for the animated stuff is okay, so he's kept the shirt.

Kate is not in his study, nor in his living room, but he does find a rather dazed Alexis there, staring out the window. She must of just come home, he realizes. That must have been what woke him up.

"Alexis! How's my high school graduate?"

"Dad," Alexis says, letting herself be hugged. "You seem better."

"Better?" He squeals. Is it that obvious he just got laid? Except he didn't get laid, not yet. He still has to fix that, though he really shouldn't be thinking that around his daughter. "When was I bad?"

"Come on, Dad. You've been mopey for weeks. And last night, at the drug store... wandering around like a zombie."

"I don't think zombies like drugstores, honey. So... fabulous parties? Sophisticated night life? Do tell all..."

"Later, okay? It was a lot of fun, but I need a nap."

"Did you eat? Let me at least get you a bite first..."

"Okay," she says, yawning.

He walks into the kitchen, leaving his daughter in the living room. He walks around to the far side of the island, closer to fridge, when something grabs ahold of his sweatpants and pulls him off his feet. He lands in a tangled pile on the tile, flopped against a squatting Kate Beckett.

"Um, hi. What was that for?"

"Sssshhhh...we're hiding."

He looks at Kate. She's not making a lot of sense. He wonders if this is how he usually appears to her.

"Hiding?"

"Alexis is here."

"Yeah, I, um, know. So why are we hiding?"

"I was thinking about it last night. I don't think we can just spring this on her. We need to give her a chance to get used to it."

"By hiding." He sort of finds it cute that Kate's protective of his daughter's feelings, but it's disconcerting how much it's making her act like him. Only one of them can afford to act like him, and he'd prefer it if it stays him.

"It's going to be hard to transition her if she realizes I slept here last night."

Alexis walks into the kitchen at this point, rendering Kate and Castle's hiding moot.

"Um, Dad, Kate, what are you two doing down there?"

He looks at his daughter. It's quite obvious he can't tell the truth, since you can't tell your daughter you are hiding from her, even when you are. Especially when you are hiding badly.

"We're hiding," Kate says. Castle shakes his head. Obviously you can tell your boyfriend's daughter anything you want. Boyfriend? He's allowed to think that, right? Even before the fumbly stupid conversation they still have to have? And the sex?

"Um, okay, from whom? Why?"

"We're hiding from Mother. She's, um..." he says.

"...trying to set us up," Kate finishes.

"So? How is that any different from normal?" Alexis asks.

"Oh, no, not with each other," he says, "with, um, people from her class. Different people."

"Why would she do that?"

"I have..." he has no lie for that one, " ... no idea whatsoever."

"Okay, well, I haven't had enough sleep for this level of weird, so I'm going to go to bed. And I think Grams has already left for the day anyway, so you can... whatever."

She shakes her head, leaves the kitchen. Castle peeks his head above the counter, doesn't get all the way up, like he's still hiding. He watches his daughter head up the stairs.

He doesn't realize he's gotten himself sort of frozen in the eyes-just-above-the-counter pose for way too long until he sees Kate looking at him from the other side of the island. He stands up, tries to muster as much dignity as a disheveled man in a Green Lantern t-shirt who has just hidden from an eighteen year old girl can pull off.

It's really not a lot, on the whole. Kate laughs at him.

"What?" he asks, "You started it."

"Your head looks like a bird nest," she says.

"A ruggedly handsome bird's nest, you mean."

"Yes, that's it exactly."

She trails off, and they both seem to realize that they are alone again. He gives her a look.

"Oh no, Castle. No way," she says.

"What? You were interested last night..."

The prior night had been an unbroken sequence of ever dumber obstacles. After shaking off Lanie and Espo, he'd been called out by his mother, and he and Kate had been forced to come clean. He really should have known better. You may not expect the Spanish Inquisition, but you could always expect Martha.

"Darling," Martha had said, sweeping Kate up in a hug when they'd left the bathroom, "I'm so sorry my little bit of fun got out of hand. Drink?"

Kate shook her head, no.

"I assume, with all the skulking around, you two are trying to keep this marvelous thing quiet?" Martha asked, taking a big drink from her glass.

"We just thought ... I want a chance to sit and talk with Alexis before she finds out inadvertently."

"How wonderfully mature of you. That must have been Kate's idea," she said, turning to Kate. "You are a good influence on him."

"Thank you so much for your support, Mother."

"Well, then, your secret is safe with me. I shan't keep you from ... whatever, but please keep the door closed, in case ... whatever ... gets loud."

Martha went around the table, squeezed her son's shoulder goodnight, and then leaned in to kiss Kate on the cheek. When she pulled away, she gasped.

"Martha?" Kate asked.

"I'm sorry... what happened to your neck, dear?"

Rick looked over at Kate. A row of bruises had welted up on her neck, four right in a row.

"My neck?" Kate asked.

"Not to be blunt, kiddo, but your neck looks like a banana someone dropped down a flight of stairs."

No, Rick thought. It looked a neck that had been choked.

"Oh, I was in a fight with a perp, earlier. Don't worry Martha, they look bad, but are perfectly fine."

"I hope so dear. Feel free to borrow some of my concealer in the morning, if you need."

"Thank you."

Martha left then, walked up the stairs blowing them a theatrical kiss goodbye. Rick watched her go, the whole of the night finally crashing down around him.

Kate caught his eye. "After everything tonight, that was what finally killed the mood, isn't it?"

"You nearly died. You told me earlier, but I guess I wasn't really listening."

"I did, but I didn't. I'm here. I'm whole."

"There's more, isn't there? More than just the neck."

"I suspect, yeah. I haven't gone looking, yet."

He stood up, took her hand. "Come on then, let's go look."

"Not what I had planned for tonight, Castle."

"Was the plan ... I dunno, was it always for this to just be a one night thing?"

"No. Absolutely not."

"Then we have time."

"If I remember right, you are the one who finally stopped things last night," Kate says.

"Yeah, well... now we're both rested, interruption free..."

"No... not with ... Alexis is here."

"Her door is closed. Our door will be closed. Unless you scream to wake the dead, I think we'll be fine."

"Maybe I want to be loud."

"Ooohh..."

"Come on, Castle, I'll buy you breakfast, then we can go to my place. Avoid getting accidentally interrupted?"

"Seriously? We never get interrupted. What makes you think that would happen?"

His brain, which wasn't his best friend yesterday, has pretty much broken up with him today. This is because he has discovered that Kate Beckett, she of the badge and gun and don't fuck with me attitude, is a cuddler.

A cuddler. That fact is a little furry fox, quickly escaping from the hounds of rational thinking.

He learns this on the cab ride of shame back to her place (is it a cab ride of shame if they are both in the cab?), where she sits so close that there is no room for the Holy Ghost, and keeps ... touching him. Not bad touching, you know, not illegal touching. Just copious touching, and leaning, and playing with his fingers and his collar and breathing on his neck and smiling in wicked ways that has taken any last coherent thoughts he has and Old Yeller'ed them behind the woodshed.

He'd wanted to just pick up a bagel and some coffee, but she talked him into omelets at the little diner a few blocks from her apartment. The cab pulls up to the place, and Kate hands over some cash. She takes his hand, semi-pulling him out of the taxi and into the diner, but he stops on the street, looking in at the patrons having late breakfasts. She tugs again, but he doesn't move.

"Castle?"

He nods at the window. "Kate ... look inside."

She gets a confused look on her face, turns, and peers in the window. It's a sunny day, after last night's rains, and she goes to put her head to the glass, so she can see around the glare, but he pulls her away.

"Castle! I thought you wanted me to look."

"To look! Not get caught! They'll see you."

"Who?"

"Ryan. And Jenny. And Esposito, Lanie, Karpowski, Tolliver, Perlmutter, Cole ... is that Gates' husband? It's like the entire 12th woke up this morning and thought 'hey, I could go for some waffles!'"

"What are they doing?"

"I don't know, having snacks after screenwriting class?"

"It could be important."

"Yes, but to find out, we'd have to go in there. Going in there would pretty much negate our whole 'people not finding out' plan."

"So no breakfast then?"

"We'll get supplies. I'll make you pancakes."

"What is it with you boys and pancakes?"

"I could makes smorelets instead."

"Pancakes it is."