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OOOOOOOOO

For a minute his face was curtained by her hair and he could see her amused eyes looking down at him. Then she slipped away and he felt himself dragged half out of bed too.

"Ouch, Castle!" She shook her wrist and looked at him grumpily. He liked happy better.

He looked at the steel band around his wrist.

"I'm in handcuffs."
He followed the short chain of metal links and found the matching band on the wrist she was rubbing.

"We're in handcuffs?"

He meant it as an observation but it came out more of a question.

"Yes, and now I'm going to have a bruise. Would you wake up already?"
"Oh, right."

"And I thought I needed coffee."

OOOOOOOOO

The coffee was still brewing and she was relieved to see that the scent was waking Castle up. He was still sandy-eyed, speaking infrequently and in monosyllables and his hair was mussed, sticking up in strange directions. She could get used to that look.

She had crashed last night. They had gone to bed at an insane hour, she was almost embarrassed. Back at the precinct when she had been running through the things that could go wrong over the space of 24 hours, she never even considered the conversations they had last night. She was more concerned with the mundane. Eating. Sleeping. The bathroom. Interrogating a suspect when she herself was in handcuffs.

But no. They managed the mundane so they progressed into the we-usually-only-talk-about-when-we're-sure-we're-going-to-die topics. Feelings. Kate Beckett did not do the feelings talk with anyone. She was a champion at repressing and avoiding.

Hard to avoid someone when you're chained to them and practically set them on fire. Of course you're going to put your fire out. And damn Lanie, she knew that.

She had a headache from repressing tears and guilt had done a number on the takeout she had for dinner. By the time she got her pillow back she was pretty sure an actual fire would have had trouble keeping her awake. But Rick Castle could, just by simply being in her bed.

She usually slept on the left side of the bed, but with her left side chained to Castle she would have had to sleep with that arm stretched over her torso. And that would have pulled all the muscles and the scar on her side. More than that, she usually slept on her side and she didn't trust herself not to roll in the night and mould herself to her partner. He would never let her live that down.

At least with him on the left, if he rolled and ended up spooned against her, it wouldn't be her fault. She might tease him a little, but she knew she probably wouldn't complain.

She wasn't thrilled to admit it probably wasn't the return of her own pillow that hit her sleep button. Despite her pillow fight with Richard Castle, she snuggled up to him and her resistance – both to him and to sleep- gave out at the same time. He was warm and the scent of him was heavy against her senses. By some miracle she had seven hours of sleep before she woke herself up.

Almost had a heart attack. Well she was too young for that and she hated they way people used the expression but her whole body including her heart actually physically reacted the moment she woke and processed the differences. She could actually feel the thumping, slightly elevated but not racing. It was not unlike the unpleasant reaction that came with her panic attacks. All her muscles froze and she lay there feeling the painful pumping in her chest. She tried to relax and breathe normally.

It was Castle.

She wouldn't have named adrenaline as the hormone released when waking up next to him.

It had been a novel opportunity once she had gained control over herself. To watch him for a change, without him catching her.

She knew it wasn't going to be comfortable holding herself up on one elbow, especially since her side was always tighter in the morning. But she barely felt a twinge. The heat of him had kept the muscle warm and relaxed.

Her eyes travelled the lines in his face. She usually found herself forgetting he was older than her; it was hard not to with the way he lit up so many situations with his childish joy. His laughter lines were so deeply ingrained she could see them when he was relaxed in sleep. But to oppose it was a dark, slightly off-center crease between his brows. Frown lines. She knew she had given him those.

A study of opposites.

That was a good description for Richard Castle.

A bad influence was another, she thought wryly.

She wasn't a cuddler. The men she had been with had expected her to be strong. She was a police Detective after all, and some how cuddling negated that image. But there was something natural and so comforting to let herself be close to the man who had come to mean so much to her. Even fully dressed with material twisted around them, her legs comfortable tangled with his, one arm draped over him and still holding his hand. She was pretty sure she had drooled on him a little, but that couldn't be helped if she was lying on her side. That was something everyone did. The way his face had been resting against her hair when she woke up, she wouldn't be surprised if she had some of his in her hair.

Sharing spit, in a way.

It had been so tempting to do it the right way. To wake him that way but settled for writing WAKE UP, RICK on his chest with their linked hands.

She felt her face flush as she remembered the little automatic peck he had given her. He must have some imagination. Was it normal for him to dream of her then? Was that sweet, automatic greeting enough to make him happy? She supposed it must be. Low maintenance. He didn't seem surprised to see her next to him. At least not until he realised she wasn't a figment of his imagination.

It was nice to know she wasn't alone in this.

A chime from the table in the lounge got both of their attention and she let the toast cool as they both walked to retrieve their phones.

"The precinct?"

She looked at the screen and froze. How had she forgotten?

"Kate?" he sounded concerned now.

She cleared her throat. "No. Just an alert."

There was no way she was going to be able to go through with her original plans for the morning. She was going to have to call. But she couldn't do that without him hearing her. At least she had told him about it last night anyway.

"I was supposed to see Dr. Burke this morning."

"Oh."

Oh. That was it? What was that reaction? She had to stop herself jumping to conclusions. Last night he had seemed happy that she was getting help. It was unlikely that had changed overnight. He looked pretty uncomfortable now. She wasn't thrilled either; she wasn't ready to take Rick with her to that appointment. Burke was helping her get the courage and the stability to work out her problems on her own and she wanted to talk to Rick and be able to tell him all of it. Before he was pulled into one of her appointments and found out the hard way.

But she didn't understand why Rick didn't want to see her therapist. Was he afraid that they would get into another fight? That made sense sort of.

I don't want to talk about it!

The words came back to her and she recalled her half-formed concerns of the night before. Just how bad had she hurt him?

Dr. Burke would be very interested in Castle's side of the relationship and all the cases he had heard so much about. But Castle had made it clear that he wasn't ready and for once she was going to be the one who waited.

"Is it okay if I call him? I don't think going today would be a good idea."

"Sure." He tried to mask his relief but didn't do a very good job of it. Whatever he didn't want to tell her must be really doing a number on him.

She was caught between compassion, guilt and an irrational disappointment that he wouldn't talk to her about it.