AN: I'm so grateful for your response to the last chapter/s! Some of you have a knack for knowing what's going on (that's a nod to you, Docnerd89). Thanks to everyone who's reading & reviewing! To White Pawn, you really know how to flatter a gal ;)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Her hand dropped abruptly and her expression slackened, fear filling her eyes at the sight of the person before her.

After the initial shock wore off, Beckett casually crossed her arms across her t-shirt, hoping Gates hadn't taken the time to read the, My Muse is Hotter Than Yours, slogan scrawled across it.

"Morning Detective," Gates said somewhat distractedly, her mind busy taking in the sight before her of Kate Beckett with messy bedroom hair clad only in men's boxers and shirt that looked suspiciously Castle-sized and Castle-themed, if the words on it were anything to go by.

"Sir," she replied rather curtly. This was unexpected to say the least.

"Beckett, who is it?" Castle called from the kitchen, still focussed intently on the food before him.

"It's Captain Gates," she replied, a little too much fear in her tone for her liking. "Come in," she muttered awkwardly as there was a clattering in the kitchen as Beckett's words reached Castle.

"Ow, ouch, dammit" he cursed. He ditched cooking, moving to the living room with his now burnt fingers in his mouth. "Gates," he attempted trying to sound friendly, removing his fingers from his mouth. "Breakfast?" he asked weakly.

"No, thanks," she waved her hand dismissively. "I just stopped by to see how you were faring after your ordeal, Castle." He nodded dumbly in response.

"Ah, fine," he choked out.

"Good," she nodded briskly. Feeling the awkwardness as acutely as the other occupants of the loft she added, "I didn't want everyone at the precinct getting the wrong idea if I showed actual concern for you there…" Her joke fell flat.

"Ha," Castle managed after a pause that was all too long. That alone almost made Beckett chortle. But the knowledge that her boss had discovered her – them in a compromising appearing condition didn't exactly leave her in the most light-hearted mood. This was going to make things at the precinct a whole lot more difficult to navigate. There was a cluttering upstairs before a much too brightly clad for the early time of the morning Martha appeared at the foot of the stairs, sweeping into the room. She took in Gates' presence in the room and sheer uncomfortableness of it all, smirking at the attire of her son and his muse.

"Beckett, darling, how did you find the guest room?" she asked by way of good morning. It was as if the tension drained swiftly from the room at her words.

"Great, thanks, Martha," she smiled appreciatively at the flamboyant woman.

"Good, good. I'm so glad we convinced you to stay. It was nice to know you were safe. Our building is much more secure than yours you know," and just like that the uncomfortable question lingering at the tip of Gates' tongue was swallowed before it could be released. Martha had managed to somewhat subtly highlight that there had been no shift in the relationship between Castle and Beckett – despite the appearance, and the actuality of the opposite. Castle could kiss her. Or forsaking that, allow her a shopping trip with his credit card. Gates almost smiled in relief, she wasn't really the beaming type though so she nodded curtly at Martha and turned her attention back to Beckett and Castle.

"The boys filled me on the case. I'll see you both at the precinct shortly?" she inquired. Beckett's gaze shifted to Castle and he answered with a sharp nod.

"Yeah, I'm fine. We'll be in soon, Sir," he smiled, convincingly this time.

X-X-X-X-X-X

After they had ushered Gates out the door and returned to sanity Castle turned to his mother.

"I – we, owe you big-time," he exclaimed, planting a grateful kiss on her cheek. She arched her eyebrows at him in response.

"Why would that be? I said nothing but the truth," she hedged, curious. Martha didn't miss the deep blush that coloured Beckett's cheeks at her words. For a good few moments no one spoke, Castle realising that he'd said just a little too much, Beckett wringing her fingers gently, a little bit nervous to be broaching this conversation so soon, whilst things were still so tentative. "I think, considering you owe me big-time," Martha air bracketed the words as she spoke. "Perhaps what you owe me is an explanation," she smiled sweetly, dramatic flair evident behind her sincerity. Castle groaned.

"I should think before I say things," he muttered. Beckett patted his shoulder consolingly.

"We all know that's never going to happen with you," she teased. "Breakfast anyone?" she asked innocently, manoeuvring Castle back toward the kitchen with a gentle shove.

"This conversation's most certainly not over," Martha declared passionately, following them into the kitchen. "But, do feed me darling," she added, locking eyes with her son. Silence filtered through the kitchen as Castle reignited the stovetop and finished cooking breakfast. As he slid the eggs onto his mother's place she shot him a look that clearly inferred she was ready for answers.

"There's nothing to explain, Mother," he attempted. She shook her head; she wasn't buying it, not for a second. Castle looked to Beckett for help, she merely shrugged at him and shovelled food into her mouth, if she was eating she wasn't talking, simple as that. Despite his annoyance at Martha's little interrogation, he found it incredibly endearing that Beckett wasn't jumping to deny it as soon as she was offered the opportunity. That alone assured him that it okay to be having this conversation. If Beckett had jumped in with ardent denial he probably would have begrudgingly gone along with it, but this, noncommittal support, it warmed his heart. She wasn't jumping to pretend it never happened. If he was looking for a best case scenario it seemed this was as close as he was going to get and he was more than okay with that. "Beckett seduced me," he blurted out. She choked on the toast she was stuffing into her mouth. She struggled to get it down as Martha regarded the pair of them with arched eyebrows and a bright grin.

"Not true," Beckett spluttered out, still fighting to swallow the last of her mouthful. Castle grinned wickedly at her.

"You left it up to me to explain," he shrugged. "Called it as I saw it…" Beckett rolled her eyes in response.

"Fine," he sighed melodramatically. "Mother, when you asked Beckett if she liked the guest bed what she really meant to say was that it was nice, but not nearly as nice as my bed. That about cover it, my dear?" He grinned at Beckett, his tone light, teasing. He was met with another eye-roll.

"You really are good at making up stories for a living," Martha injected with a cheerful laugh.

"I wasn't lying," he cried defensively. He was met with silence from the women before him. "What? I wasn't," he whined. Beckett chuckled.

"Writer man, you should go get dressed. I'd like to stop at my place before work so we need to leave soon," Beckett commented, essentially drawing the conversation to a close.

"Fine, but you both suck you know that," he griped, leaving the room. The women smiled at one another in response.

"Very mature, Richard," his mother threw after his retreating form. As much as Beckett enjoyed Martha's company, she was worried the conversation would resurrect itself, she took a final mouthful of food and stood up.

"I should put my pants on before we leave too," she casually shrugged, making her way from the kitchen. Martha swivelled to watch her retreating form.

"Detective," she called after her, watching the woman head clearly into the direction of her son's room. "Wouldn't your pants be in the guest room?" she winked, evidently pleased with herself for catching them out. Beckett's face burned with embarrassment and she managed to squeak out an ungracious –

"Uh," before hurrying into Castle's room, Martha's chuckle following her in. Castle emerged shirtless from the bathroom, he took in the blush still pooling on Beckett's cheeks.

"Chatting with my mother went well I take it," he smirked.

"You know, under any other circumstances I think I'd find your mother funny," Beckett ground out, not really mad, just a little frustrated at how easily Martha seemed to sense the shift in their relationship. Apparently secrets didn't last long in this household. Castle crossed to her side, after kissing her cheek swiftly he added –

"She really likes you know. Plus, I'm not ashamed of you, of us, whatever this is…" he paused for a moment. "What is this, Beckett?" he asked gently.

"Us," she suggested gently, raising a hand to brush a stray tuft of his hair back into place. "It's just us."

"Just us," he repeated softly. "Does that make you my girlfriend?" he pushed. She shook her head.

"Maybe if you ask me," she hinted.

"Kate, beautiful, perfect Kate, will you be my girlfriend?" his voice was coated in heavy emotion, he cupped her jaw gently in his hands and gazed intently into her eyes. She shook her head again, awkwardly, restricted by his hands. He gripped her tighter in response, trying to limit the movement.

"No," she drew. "But I'll be your partner. Just us, remember. I guess it's partners in a slightly different sense now," she shrugged, pretending the words, her agreement, weren't speeding the pace of her heart to beyond belief. He grinned.

"Very us," he breathed, leaning his face to hers and slanting his lips over hers. She could feel the smile in his kiss, could feel her face mirroring his in response. The kiss was light, gentle, not the fierce desperation of earlier. It was sweet, it spoke of beginnings and hope. It was everything a first kiss should be – despite being nothing of the sort. Besides, their actual first kiss was unique, it had a story to it, the writer in him found it immensely intriguing. As they pulled apart, Beckett remembered what she was doing in Castle's room in the first place.

"I need my pants," she admitted.

"I think what you're trying to say is, Castle remove my clothes and ravish me?" he replied with a broad grin.

"No, kind of the opposite," she arched her brow. "And here I was under the impression you were of the clever, perceptive persuasion," she teased.

"You're so mean to me," he whined.

"Guess you're just going to have to get used to it, Castle," she laughed.

"Yeah, I guess I am," he beamed, sincerity overflowing in his words.

X-X-X-X-X-X

The pair of them weren't at the loft much longer. Just the time it took them to dress and for Castle to go up and kiss Alexis a good morning and a goodbye rolled into one. Castle was beyond ecstatic that Beckett had merely pulled on her jeans, continuing to wear his t-shirt as they made the journey downtown to her apartment. They were barely at Beckett's ten minutes as she changed and readied herself for the day. It wasn't beyond him to appreciate that he was immensely lucky to have found a woman who didn't need to spend gratuitous amounts of time on her appearance yet still managed to show up any other woman who came into her presence. He really had gotten lucky.

As they neared the precinct Castle ordered Beckett to pull over the cruiser.

"I'll just be a minute," he argued as she shook her head at his request.

"Why?" she asked puzzled.

"Coffee," he shrugged as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Which it should have been, to her anyway.

"Oh right," she grinned at him, pulling over.

"Guess it slipped your mind considering you haven't had to stop for it yourself for the past three years," he teased gently.

"Mmm," she hummed. "You wonderful, consistent man."

"There's nothing like a well-oiled routine to kick off the day," he smiled, shrugging his shoulders a little in response to the gravity of her compliment. He pulled himself from the car, turning back to Beckett intending to bequeath her with a parting grin. Instead he found her moving from her side of the car to stand on the pavement beside him.

"New tradition," she suggested, taking his hand in hers and leaning into his side. "Let's get our coffee, Castle." He tightened his grip on her hand in response and tugged her into the quaint coffee shop. It buzzed with activity as they joined the line, neither noticing the man in the darkest corner of the shop staring pointedly at them, a scowl marring his face.