Author's Note: First of all, I can't thank you enough for all of the awesome feedback you gave me on the last chapter. I'm so glad you like how this is going, and considering it's my first attempt at writing a sequel, I'm glad you thought the transition from one story to the next worked well. I tried to respond to some of your reviews but I've actually been busier than expected lately and I know I didn't get to all of them, but I LOVED and completely appreciated every single one.

To address something that came up a lot, one of my biggest challenges with this story is trying to make the stuff Kate is writing her writing style and not mine. That's kind of hard because we've never really seen Beckett write anything, so I don't have anything to base what her writing would be like on. Basically I'm just trying to take what I know about her character and the fact that this kind of writing is a fairly new thing for her and... go from there. The whole concept of this story is rather meta, and I'm loving it. As a few of you pointed out, I'm obviously a writer, writing about Beckett writing. :) As for Castle's advice, something else that came up, yeah, some of it comes from me, but I'm also trying to channel Castle and what I think he would tell her. Specifically, the bit about not leaving herself out? I do think it's good advice, but I doubt I would've come up with it on my own. I mean, I did, I don't have Castle kidnapped and tied to a chair or anything... although I probably would if I could... but my thought was that Castle would want her included because while he probably is interested in learning about Johanna, I think he's more interested in learning about Kate. Random insight. :)

You can read now. Enjoy!

Chapter 2

To Know You

Very rarely had Castle actually been nervous when he walked into the Twelfth. If he ever even had, it would've been when he was trying to get Beckett to forgive him for something, like when he'd looked into her mother's case without her permission or when she'd been upset with him for not calling when he got back from the Hamptons. This, however, was something different entirely.

Even if he'd somehow known what he was walking into the day before, he never in a million years could've predicted that it would turn out like this. She'd let him stay with her all day. They'd kissed. She'd shared so much with him. After reading what she'd written the previous day, he realized just how much she'd shared. She'd taken him to that old library, one of the places she best remembered her mother, and she'd sat on the steps with him, holding his hand in place of her mom's. No matter how many pages he filled, he'd never be able to describe how privileged he felt to have been a part of that.

And then there was the kiss. It was clear that his relationship with Kate was changing, but exactly what that meant he had yet to work out. He hadn't said anything to anyone about it, not even his family. As far as his mother and daughter knew, he'd been at the precinct all day helping with a case. He hadn't told them that, but he hadn't told them otherwise. And Kate had already made him promise not to say anything to anyone at the precinct.

He was supposed to act as if nothing had happened, nothing had changed. But how could he do that when so much had? He was a writer, not an actor. And Ryan and Esposito were detectives. It was their job to notice things. Surely they'd figure out something was different.

Still, as promised, he walked into the precinct with two coffees from a nearby coffee shop and made his way to Beckett's desk. She was already there, noticed him coming and shot him a quick smile. She looked maybe a little more tired than usual, but otherwise the same as ever.

He set one of the coffees in front of her and took his usual seat beside her desk. "Hey," he greeted her. "How are you doing?"

She gave him a look that told him he was already doing a poor job acting as if nothing had happened. "I'm fine, Castle." She took a sip of her coffee. "Thanks."

"Ryan and Esposito here yet?"

"Yeah, they're here." She nodded toward the break room. "I was, uh, visiting relatives yesterday."

Castle nodded, glad they had their story straight. And it wasn't exactly untrue. Still, he jumped when Esposito showed up behind him.

"See, Castle?" he said. "She's here, she's fine. You were all worried for nothing yesterday."

He looked at Beckett, who had her eyebrow raised at him. "I don't know if I'd say I was worried, exactly…"

"Ryan," Esposito called to his partner, who was now at his desk. "Would you say Castle was worried yesterday?"

The other detective nodded. "Oh yeah, big time."

Beckett rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "You don't have to worry about me, Castle."

He nodded. "I know." Not that he believed it. No matter what happened, where their relationship did or didn't go, he'd always think about her, and he'd always worry about her. But in order to keep up appearances that nothing had changed, he turned to the other detectives. "You guys were right, I may have overreacted a little."

Ryan and Esposito exchanged a look that must've meant something, although Castle didn't know what.

"I probably should've told you guys I wasn't coming in," Beckett admitted. "It just slipped my mind until the last minute. Now, can we get back to work?"

Castle was a little put off by how easily Beckett was able to act casual when he was finding it so difficult. Either she was a much better actress than he was an actor, or she didn't think their relationship had changed as much as he did. Every fiber of his being hoped for the first option, and he made himself believe that this must be it. Kate Beckett was fantastic at everything he'd ever seen her attempt. Why not add acting to that list?

Esposito went back to his desk and Castle stayed in his usual chair beside Beckett's, trying to act the same way he always had. The problem was, he had no interest in acting that way. The heart of the woman that he had worked so hard to win was finally his, at least he thought it was, and he didn't want to hide it. He wanted to flaunt it. He wanted to hold a parade to announce and celebrate his triumph. But Kate wanted to keep whatever had happened between them private, and he had to respect that, at least for awhile. It was going to be a long day.

A little later, Castle followed Beckett into her car to interview the family of their latest victim. He was thankful to finally have a moment alone with her, but he was beginning to wonder if he'd imagined the entirety of the day before. Perhaps it had all just been an extremely vivid dream?

But when she closed the door and started the car, the possibility of that vanished. "If we don't get finished too late, why don't you come to my place after work?" She asked casually, as though this was the kind of thing that they did all the time.

He studied her face carefully, looking for signs that she was joking. He found none. "Really?"

"Yeah, I mean, if you want. I wrote a little bit more of that thing last night after you left, if you want to take a look at it."

"You want me to?"

"Yeah, you know, just to let me know if I'm on the right track."

He smiled. Why she was so insecure about her writing, he didn't understand. She was usually so confident, and her writing was good. He had to admit though, he liked being able to show her what he did for once rather than the other way around. Not to mention that he found her uncertainty adorable. "I'm sure you are. They're your memories, not mine. But I'd be happy to look at it for you. Should I bring dinner?"

She shrugged. "We'll see what time we get out of here. Thank you, by the way."

He wished she'd quit thanking him when he hadn't done anything worthy of being thanked. "For what?"

"Not saying anything in front of the guys. I could tell you wanted to."

He nodded. "How long do we have to hide all of this for? I don't like hiding things, not from my friends and my family. And I'm not very good at it, especially when it's something I don't have any interest in hiding."

"I never said you couldn't tell your family."

"Well, you never said I could, so I just assumed."

"You really didn't tell them anything?"

He shook his head. "They think I was at the precinct yesterday."

She smiled. "I'm surprised. I thought you would."

"Well… can I?"

"Can we talk about it tonight?"

He nodded. "And you're okay?" He'd asked her this before, but he thought he'd ask again now that he was the only one around to hear.

"I'm okay," she said with a tight, confident smile. Then it softened and she glanced at him and away from the road for an instant. "I love the flowers."

He smiled. "I hoped you would."

He walked up to the door of her apartment just a few minutes after the time she expected him. She wouldn't let him bring food, insisting that he'd done more than enough for her the previous day and that it was her turn, but still he hadn't come empty-handed.

When she opened the door, she skipped the greeting and glared immediately at the bag he was holding. "Castle, I told you not to bring anything."

"You told me not to bring food," he reminded her. "This isn't food."

She rolled her eyes. "Then what is it?"

"Maybe if you let me come in I'll show you."

She moved away from the door and he walked into the entry. "It smells really good in here."

"That's because I took care of the food," she said with a half-smirk. "I said I would, didn't I?"

He frowned. "You cooked?"

"We got back from the precinct an hour ago. I'm good, but I'm not that good."

He followed her gesture into the sort of living room area where they'd been the day before, and on the coffee table he saw a smorgasbord of Chinese food large enough to feed many more than two people. "Wow," he said, sitting down on the couch. "You are good."

"I know." She sat down beside him. "Now, what's in the bag?"

He shook his head. "Later."

She gave him her trademarked "I-mean-business" face. "Now."

He'd meant to give this to her more… officially. With more flourish. When it meant more. But reluctantly, he took it out of the small bag he was carrying and handed it to her.

It was a notebook with a gorgeous cover made of soft, dark brown leather. The pages were gold-edged, and in the bottom of the bag was a fancy gold pen. "I thought that might be a little better to write in than that legal pad you've been using," Castle told her with a shrug. "And that pen? It'll write more smoothly than any other pen you've ever used in your life. I've been using them for years."

She turned a few of the pages gingerly. "Castle, I couldn't write in this. It's so… perfect. I'd mess it up."

"Au contraire," he protested. "Notebooks are made to be used. Write in it. Fold back the pages, break the binding, spill coffee on it. Mess it up. Make it yours."

"It looks expensive."

"I bought it for you. What it cost is none of your concern. It's yours now, and you should use it."

She sighed and put it aside. "Thanks, Castle. That's really nice."

"Hey, don't mention it. So you said you wrote more last night? Should we do that first or eat first?"

"We should probably eat while the food's still warm."

He smiled. "Great, I'm starving."

She rolled her eyes. "Why didn't you just say that?"

"I was trying to be polite."

"Well cool it, would you? You've been acting weird all day."

"How is being polite acting weird?"

"It's not that, you're just not acting like yourself."

He smirked. "I would've thought you'd like that."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, me too." She took a plate and handed the other one to Castle. "Take whatever looks good, obviously we have plenty."

He reached for the nearest container and put some on his plate. "So… you don't like it?"

"It's just awkward, Castle. I don't want everything to change."

He put down his fork and looked at her. "We kissed. You and me. You said you didn't want to pretend it never happened, and I certainly don't want that, but that's what we've been doing all day long. Pretending it never happened. If we're going to acknowledge it, it's going to have to change some things."

"I don't mind change, but…" She sighed and looked straight at him. "Okay, I'm only gonna say this once."

He nodded. "I'm listening."

"The Castle I kissed yesterday was someone I thought I could be completely comfortable around, all the time. He'd always be there for me, and I'd always be there for him. I told him things that I've never told anyone else, and probably never will tell anyone else. But then today… I don't know. It's like you're expecting something from me, and I don't know what it is."

"I'm not expecting anything from you, I'm just trying to figure out where we stand. But I think our fundamental difference of opinion is that you don't want anything to change, and I do."

"I'm not saying I don't want anything to change. I'm just saying I don't want everything to change."

"So… small steps?"

Slowly, she nodded. "Small steps," she repeated. "Like what?"

He shrugged. "Can I tell my mom and Alexis? If I make sure they don't say anything to anyone else? That way we can do this kind of thing," he motioned to indicate the food, "at my place if we want to."

She started to nod but then stopped. "Tell them what?"

"That… we kissed? And that I'm helping you with a project and we might be spending more time together outside of work."

"I can live with that. But nothing to anyone at work. Not yet."

"I guess I can live with that. Have you talked to Lanie?"

"Not yet."

"Well, can you please do that before I see her?"

"Yeah, I will."

"Good." He picked his plate back up. "Let's eat."

"Did you get fortune cookies?" Castle asked as he helped clean up and put away leftovers.

She smirked. "Come on, Castle. What kind of woman do you think I am?" She nodded toward the coffee table, which had been completely cleared of everything except two plastic-wrapped fortune cookies.

He grinned. "Exactly my kind. Should I make coffee?"

"What do you think?"

"I'll make coffee."

She nodded. "Half of this stuff is going to go bad if I leave it in my fridge. Do you want to bring some home for Alexis and Martha?"

"Oh yeah, I'm sure they'd like that. And it definitely wouldn't go to waste."

"Great. I'll pack some up for you and leave it in the fridge. Don't forget to get it before you leave."

"I wouldn't dare. Why don't you go get that writing you were going to show me ready? I'll finish up in here." He smirked. "Unless you don't trust me alone in your kitchen."

"Actually, the kitchen seems like a pretty safe place for you." She smiled. "You don't mind?"

"Not at all. The coffee will just take a few minutes and I'll meet you out there."

She nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

He finished transferring some of the leftover Chinese food into one of the containers Kate had gotten out for him while the coffee brewed, and wondered what kind of a memory she'd prepared for him to read this time. He knew she wasn't writing them for him, not at all for him, but he couldn't help but feel that way, just a little. He knew his detective well, almost as well as he knew the nature of writing. No matter who was writing or what they were writing about, audience was an important consideration. Beckett was a private person by nature, and she was writing on very personal subject matter. He didn't believe for a second that as she wrote, she wasn't thinking about the fact that he would eventually be reading it.

He clearly remembered something she had once told him: "Oh Castle, the things you don't know about me could fill a book." He also clearly remembered the next thought to go through his head, although he hadn't said it aloud: "One day, they will." At the time, he'd believed that he'd be the one to write it, but now… somehow this seemed more fitting. By writing about her memories, Kate was opening a window for him, allowing him to see into her past, to know and experience things that he couldn't through any other means. In some ways, it was a dream come true.

He'd always believed that, one day, he and Kate would take their relationship to the next level. He valued her friendship, but since the first day he met her, he knew friendship would never be enough. But believe that though he did, he hadn't always been sure that she would ever fully open up to him. He learned a little more about her every day, but she was such a complex person that, try as he might, he still wasn't sure he'd ever know everything there was to know.

Working to achieve insurmountable goals, however, was what made life worth living. In his life to this point, Rick Castle had already done several things that, to most people, would be unachievable. Understanding Kate Beckett was his newest challenge, and the most difficult one he'd yet faced. Still, he couldn't remember ever being so committed to a single goal. If it took him the rest of his life to figure her out, to learn all her nuances, it was a commitment he was willing to make.

The writing that she was doing now was for her. He'd told her to do it for herself, and he wanted that to be her reason. He wanted the writing to make her feel better, to really help her to remember her mother, and to create a lasting record of this memory. But it also did serve a secondary purpose, one that he hadn't intended but he wasn't sorry about: it was a way for him to better get to know his detective, to find out bits about her past that he otherwise might never have.

When the coffee was finished he poured two cups, prepared them according to his and Kate's tastes, and brought them into the other room. "Fortune cookies first?" he asked, handing Kate her coffee.

"Sure." He sat down, and she handed him one of the cookies, which he proceeded to unwrap.

He cracked the cookie in half and removed the little slip of paper inside. "'Warning,'" he read aloud. "Oh, this ought to be good. 'Do not…'" He frowned at it, laughed, and continued. "'Do not eat your fortune.'"

Kate laughed. "Oh come on, what does it really say?"

He handed it to her.

She read it and looked at him, surprised and amused. "It really does say that." She laughed again. "Wow."

"Your turn," he said before eating his cookie.

"Okay." She unwrapped hers and broke it in two. She smiled. "'Now is the time to take a leap of faith,'" she read.

"Nice." He smiled. "Fortune cookies are wise."

"Oh yeah," she said, rolling her eyes. "'Do not eat your fortune.' Very wise."

"That is wise," Castle insisted. "It's paper, it probably wouldn't taste very good."

"In that case, I don't know how I could ever have doubted the wisdom of the cookies." She smiled and proceeded to eat hers.

"Alright, I'm supposed to be reading something, aren't I? Why do I get the feeling you're stalling?"

She handed him the legal pad she'd been writing on. "I'm not, actually. I kind of like this one."

He took another sip of his coffee and then put it down so that he could read. "Good. I can't wait to read it. So I won't." As he began reading he was aware of her watching him, but blocked her out, focusing solely on the page.

It was the first long night of my life, but definitely not the last. I was a junior in high school, and I had a lab report for chemistry due the next day. I hated chemistry and hadn't done well on some of the tests, and in order to keep a decent grade in the class, I had to do really well on this lab report. I'd meant to start it the night before, but I'd gone out with some of my friends and it hadn't happened.

By one o'clock in the morning I was about halfway done, but I was beginning to doubt whether I'd be able to finish without falling asleep. I was actually starting to drift off at my desk when I heard my bedroom door open, which startled me awake.

My mom must have walked past my room and saw that my light was on, because she was standing in the doorway. "Hey," she said softly, probably so she didn't wake my dad in the next room. "What are you doing up?"

"This lab report is due tomorrow," I told her, bracing for a lecture on waiting until the last minute.

It didn't come. Instead, she put her hand on my shoulder, trying to guide me out of my chair.

"No, I have to finish this," I protested.

"Short break," she promised. "Clear your mind. Besides, you won't get anything done if you're falling asleep."

I saw the wisdom in that and followed her, but I took my chemistry notebook with me. She led me to the kitchen and pulled out one of the stools at the counter for me. I sat down, and she set a mug in front of me and one in front of the other stool. Then she got the coffee pot and poured us each a cup of fresh coffee.

"I don't like coffee," I reminded her as I eyed my cup.

She put the pot down and sat in the stool beside me. "Smell it," she instructed.

I did.

"Smells good, doesn't it?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I like the smell, I just don't like the taste."

She slid the cream and sugar that was already out on the counter between us. "Just try it. Fix it however you want. It'll help you focus. At least, it works for me."

Hesitantly, I put some cream and sugar into the cup and stirred it. "Why are you awake?" I asked.

She yawned as she stirred her own coffee. "I have a trial tomorrow and I don't have a strong enough case yet. I'm doing research." She pointed to the large pile of papers in front of her.

I nodded. "Do you do this a lot?"

"Not a lot, but sometimes."

I took a tiny sip of the coffee. It was better than I'd expected.

My mom was watching me, and she laughed. "This is the only thing that'll get me through the day tomorrow," she said, gesturing at her own coffee.

I sipped mine again, taking more this time. I didn't dislike it, and if it would help me stay awake to finish my lab report, I would drink it.

I knew I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, but I couldn't help asking. "Why aren't you lecturing me? For waiting until the last minute?"

She shrugged. "Well, then I'd have to lecture myself for waiting until the last minute to lecture you, and that seems a little counter-intuitive. It's too late now, what's done is done. Just get it finished."

I appreciated that, and ended up finishing my lab report in the kitchen while my mom did her research, drinking coffee. When I went to bed around four, she was still up, and the next morning when I got up for school, she was already in the kitchen. I remember being impressed by her commitment, how she literally sacrificed her own sleep for her clients, people she barely knew. I didn't have anything that I was that passionate about yet, but I think it was that morning that finding it became my goal.

I drank another cup of coffee that morning before school, and gradually it began to go from something I tolerated to something I actually enjoyed. To this day, every time I drink coffee, it reminds me a little of my mom.

When he finished reading he looked up at his muse, smiling. "You're right, it's good."

She smiled back. "Really?"

He nodded. "You know what I like best about it?"

She shrugged and shook her head.

"It's so you."

LONG chapter. I'm aware. I was going to edit it down... but when I read back through it I realized I liked it more than I thought I did, and I didn't really want to cut anything out. I really want to have a bit of Beckett's writing in every chapter, and that didn't come until the end here, and I also think establishing where their relationship is at the moment was pretty crucial as well. Anyway, in my time zone we still have five and a half long hours until Knockout, and if reading this helps you pass the time, so much the better. If you could return the favor by giving me some reviews to read while I wait... I would be eternally grateful. :)

As for the finale, because I can't not say something about it... I saw the promo but haven't watched the sneak peeks or read spoilers, so I'm mostly going to be surprised. I completely trust the writers, but I'm still nervous. *fandom group hug* It's not going to be easy. That I'm positive about. But we'll get through it, and we'll survive the long Castle-less months of the summer hiatus. [/pep talk that was partly for myself]

Anyway, yes, reviews will definitely help keep me calm and sane until Castle tonight, so if you want to help out with that... you're awesome. :)