The waitress at the counter greets her with an easy smile as she steps into the half empty diner, her body buzzing with anticipation. She spots her dad at the back of the room, ensconced in their regular booth, a crossword puzzle spread out next to his cup of coffee. The diner has evolved over the years, in meaning if not decor. It used to be nothing more than neutral ground, a place where they could meet once a week in an effort to rebuild their shaky relationship without the ghost of a wife and mother lost or the memories of too many nights spent in the putrid stench of grief and whiskey filling in the spaces between their awkward attempts at conversation. Now, though, it's where they come to catch up, to laugh and talk and fill each other in on the details of their lives. It's where she saw the light come back into her father's eyes and where he saw her finally submit to happiness.

Jim looks up when she approaches, bifocals perched on the end of his sloping nose. The creases around his eyes deepen as he smiles at her and she finds herself wondering when exactly it was that her dad got old.

"Hey, Dad," she says as he slides out of the booth and pulls her into a tight hug.

Clapping her lightly on the back, Jim pulls away and nudges her toward the opposite side of the booth before sitting back down and dropping his glasses on top of the discarded crossword. "So," he starts, a twinkle in his eye, "how was your day? Anything interesting happen?"

Kate shakes her head at him. "Funny." There's a piece of apple pie sitting on a saucer next to his coffee cup and she grabs the fork and takes a bite, the combination of fruit and cinnamon a familiar sweetness on her tongue. She loves the apple pie here. "How long have you know about this?"

"A couple of months." Jim grins around his the rim of his mug. "Though I'm pretty sure he's been planning it since the moment you agreed to date him."

"Probably." The fork clatters against the plate and she can't help the giggle that floats up inside her chest. "He's crazy."

"Just about you," her dad says, a knowing chuckle in his voice. "I'm honestly impressed that he's managed to wait this long. Patience doesn't really strike me as one of Rick's strong suits."

"You'd be surprised," she murmurs, warmth in her voice. He's waited so long for her, in one way or another, over the years and as much as she loves her father she wants nothing more than to read the final letter and run home to him, put an end to all the waiting.

"When he told me about this plan, I was a little worried," Jim confesses. Kate cocks her head to the side, a question buried in the furrow between her brows. "Oh, not about him or what your answer would be." He waves a hand at her. "I've known for a couple of years now that you'd end up marrying him eventually. I was worried about the method, not the question."

"Why?"

Jim pauses, fingers toying with the handle of the coffee cup in the way that she knows means he's gathering his thoughts. "You've spent so much of your adult life trapped in the past, Kate. For a long time, I was worried that you'd spend the rest of your life there. But then you met Rick and I watched you slowly pull yourself into the present, watched the weight fall off your shoulders. I was worried that if you went back - that you'd stay there."

"What changed your mind?"

"Rick," Jim chuckles, the somberness leaking back out of his voice. "He gave me quite a dressing down, actually. Told me that I should have more faith in you, should know you better than that." Jim shakes his head, a wry grin on his lips. "I sat right here in this booth and listened to him talk about you with so much passion and certainty and I realized that I had nothing to worry about. He knows you better than I ever have. Which is the way it should be, I suppose."

Jim shifts the crossword puzzle, pulling an envelope out from underneath. It's smaller than the others, pink instead of white. Kate stares at it, her mouth suddenly dry. She can see her name written across the front in soft cursive letters, the tail of the e curling up into a lazy loop. Her heart stumbles. She knows that handwriting better than her own from years of reading it in birthday cards and silly little notes tucked into her lunch box. From to-do lists stuck to the front of the refrigerator and the weekly letters she received when she was eleven and spent her first terrifying and exhilarating summer at camp. She looks up at her dad, tears suddenly pressing hot behind her eyes.

"It took me awhile to find this after Rick told me about his plan. Your mom - she would be so proud of you. Of the woman you've become." Jim swallows thickly and holds the letter out to her. "She wrote this on the day you were born. I remember sitting in the room, holding this tiny bundle of pink in my arms, while she sat propped up against the pillows, smiling and scribbling away. She said there were just some things she couldn't wait to tell you."

Kate takes the letter with trembling fingers, a weak sob trapped somewhere deep inside her chest. "Have -" Her voice cracks and she stops, clears her throat, tries again. "Have you read it?"

"Not since that day. She put it away for you to have when you got older but it got lost through the years. I found it stuck in the bottom of that battered old trunk of hers." Jim smiles softly, memories flickering in his eyes. "She loved that ugly thing."

"She used to tell me that it was the one thing she'd save in a fire." Kate gives a watery laugh, her mother's voice a distant echo in her ears. "That I had legs and could get myself out."

Jim nods, a dry chuckle hanging in his chest. "She told me the same thing."

Turning the letter over in her hands, Kate plucks at the flap, tugging it open gently; it gives way easily, the decades old glue having lost its tack long ago. The paper is thin and yellowing, full from top to bottom with her mother's elegant cursive. Her heart throbs painfully, the aching need to see her mother, to hear her voice, swirling inside her chest.

"When I found it," Jim's voice filters through the haze of longing, "I asked Rick if he would be okay with me giving you your mother's words instead of his." He nods at the letter, the words catching in this throat. "He said he'd be honored. That he couldn't think of anything he'd love more than to include Johanna."

Kate flattens the letter against the table, holding it steady with the fingers of one hand. She lays her other hand on the table, palm up, and her dad places his over it, a solid presence anchoring her in the here and now. Sucking in a deep breath, she lowers her eyes and begins to read.

My beautiful Katie,

I've only just met you but already I find myself madly in love with you. I've heard for years that being a parent changes a person, alters them at a fundamental level, but I never believed it. Not until the doctor put you on my chest less than twenty-four hours ago. I looked down at you, red faced and screaming, your little fists balled up tightly as you railed at the world, and I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that I would never be the same.

There are so many things I want to say to you, my baby daughter, that I find it almost impossible to start. First, and most important I think, I want you to know that you are loved. Deeply and truly loved. You've come into a world that will sometimes do its best to convince you that you're not enough, that you should be more or better or different, but don't listen, my love. You are perfect exactly the way you are. Don't ever let anyone take that away from you.

Since the moment I found out I was pregnant, I've wondered about you. About who you'll be. Will you be tall? Will you share my passion for art and music or your father's love of sports and language? Will you be a dreamer? A pianist? Will you have my nose and your father's sense of adventure? I think about these things constantly and am anxious to discover who you are, Katherine Beckett. But no matter what or who you turn out to be, whether you're an astronaut or a rock and roll singer, a doctor or a teacher, what I want most for you to be is happy. Everyone deserves happiness, Katie-bug, most especially you.

I picture our life together, our little family, and my heart swells at the prospect of what's to come. I can't wait to introduce you to the wonders of our world. I want to take you to the park on a sunny Sunday afternoon and answer all your questions about why the sky is blue and the grass is green. I want to show you the beauty of art and science. I want to watch you grow up with faith in yourself and your abilities, secure in the knowledge that you can do anything you put your mind to. I want to sing along to silly songs in the car and teach you how to bake. I want to watch you go off to your first day of school and dance at your wedding. Your life is an open book, blank and crisp, just waiting to to be written. I can't wait to see how it unfolds.

I have so many hopes for you. So many wishes and dreams. One of my most fervent desires, though, is that one day you find the kind of deep and abiding love I am fortunate enough to share with your father. Love is important. Love is what brought you into this world and love is what will sustain you. Give of your heart freely but not recklessly. I know it's a terrifying prospect; I've fought my own battles with the urge to run and hide, to protect myself from the potential pain. But trust me, sweetheart, when it's right, you'll know. When it's right, you'll want nothing more than to open yourself up to that person, to trade your heart for theirs. You'll still be scared but the love will far outweigh the fear. The most fulfilling things are the ones that scare us, my love. Trust your heart and you'll be fine.

I love you, Katie, and I am honored to be your mother. I know I won't be perfect and neither will you. We'll fight and bicker, we'll slam doors and yell. But no matter what, your father and I will love you and you will always have a home here with us.

You are the best thing that ever happened in my life, darling. Remember that always.

Love,

Mom

Tears roll silently down her cheeks and she pushes them away with her free hand, trying to catch them all before they fall to the table and smudge her mother's beautiful words. A handkerchief floats into her eye line and she looks up, finds her dad looking at her with teary compassion.

"I miss her so much," Kate sniffs, blotting her face with the soft white cloth. "I want her to be here. I want to share this with her."

"I know." His fingers tighten around hers. "Me too."

"I wish she could know Rick. Could know that I found the kind of love she wanted for me."

"She would have loved him, you know," Jim assures her, his smile dispersing the chilly mist of sadness that has settled over her heart. "He'd have her wrapped around his little finger with all that charm."

"I'm pretty sure the charm thing would be mutual." Kate smiles, a chuckle rippling in her chest. "He really would have loved her."

"He already does." Off her look, Jim continues, "You are so much your mother's daughter, sweetheart. I look at you sometimes and wonder if there is anything of me in there or if it's all Johanna."

Kate smiles. "Mom would say that I got your stubbornness."

"I'm sure she would," Jim chuckles lightly. "Though we'd all know that you got equal shares of that from both of us."

Extracting her hand from her father's, Kate carefully folds the letter from her mother and puts it in her bag with all the ones from Castle, her heart lightening as the emotions settle and balance. The excitement starts to creep back in, her blood humming in her veins.

"One last thing." Kate looks up sees her dad holding another envelope. She reaches out but he pulls it back, one eyebrow quirked. "He's a good man, Katie. When he came to ask for my permission to marry you, he promised me that he would do everything he could to never hurt you or break your heart." Jim catches her eyes, his gaze strong and stern. "Can you promise the same?"

"Are you seriously asking me, your own daughter, about my intentions?" She laughs, bright and loud.

"Yes, I am."

"Dad," she sighs, her heart climbing up into her throat, "I love him. I love him more than I ever thought I was capable of loving anyone. He - He makes me who I am. Who I want to be. I want to spend the rest of my life trying to give him even a fraction of the happiness he gives me."

"Okay." Jim says, eyes shining. "Good enough."

He hands her the envelope and she opens it quickly, finds a single sheet of paper folded neatly in half. Flipping it open, she sees two sentences scrawled in the middle of the page.

I love you. Come home.

She slides out of the booth with the letter still grasped tightly in her hand, her bag swinging heavily against her side. Her dad stands and pulls her into another hug, his arms warm and secure around her back.

"I'm happy for you, Katie."

"Thanks, Dad." She squeezes her arms around his neck, tries to say everything in five words. "I love you."

"I love you, too. Call me in the morning?"

"I will. I promise."

They break the hug and Jim steps back, tears shimmering in his eyes. "Go."

With a nod, Kate turns and walks outside, her feet barely scraping the sidewalk. She raises her hand and hails a cab, gives the driver their address. She needs to go back and get her car eventually but she can't focus on anything right now other than getting home. She wants to hold him and kiss him, thank him for being so amazing and for loving her. She wants to say yes and let him put a ring on her finger. She wants to spend the night wrapped up with him, their bodies pressed tightly together as they celebrate their love. Her hand shakes when she pulls out her phone and sends him one last text.

On my way. I love you.