Disclaimer: The wording is mine but the characters aren't

Only one more after this.

OOOOOOOOO

The lighting in the parking lot and from the police lights changed colors like Christmas lights on his teeth when he beamed.

They saw a single ambulance still parked in the lot and made for it.

"One more thing, Castle," she told him.

"Yeah?"

"Broken hand or not, shave before you come in tomorrow."

OOOOOOOOO

47.

He did much better on the bike that he thought he would, thankful the hand working the clutch was fine. Kate had followed him three-quarters of the way back to the loft, just to make sure. He would have loved for her to come up, but he knew when he got home he was going to crash.

He was going to be alone, and he was pretty sure the revelation was going to hit him over the head. At least he had the hope that his family might still be awake, but Kate was going back to her apartment alone, full of reminders of last night.

If it were him, he would have avoided it at all costs because the pain of being alone was one phenomenon that could never sit well with him, but Kate had been determined. She was going to process it and overcome it.

He took the comfort in the fact she would be eager for her coffee tomorrow. And maybe to see him. The caress she gave his hand as she let go in the parking lot was lingering as if she didn't want to let him go. He may have just been projecting, but her eyes didn't seem as happy when she pulled on her helmet.

He opened the door with his good hand, his helmet resting gingerly on his other.

The ME (Lanie had obviously been listening with the boys), had confirmed no breaks, fractures or even significant bruising. A little ice and rest and it would be fine. She did draw attention to the residual swelling in his lips.

He had no trouble still feeling those. He had paid extra attention, knowing the memory would have to last him a long time. Maybe forever.

The warm weight of her against his side though prompted him to think that maybe he wouldn't have to wait quite as long as that.

The lights were still on and he easily picked the two red heads in his living room.

"Good evening, Mother," he greeted her cheerfully.

She tilted her cheek for their traditional greeting, eyeing him suspiciously.

He couldn't help it. He was coming home after a very successful undercover mission where he had been allowed to wrap himself around Kate all night. And she enjoyed it. Even reciprocated.

"Hey sweetie," he dropped a kiss to his daughter's head.

Alexis started to lean into him, but she pulled back sharply. "Dad, have you been smoking?" Surprise made her voice go up an octave.

"No," he looked bewildered. "Why?"

"You smell," her nose scrunched.

He plucked his t-shirt out in front of him and took a sniff.

"I do, don't I?" he admitted. "But I didn't partake. You can smell my breath."

"No thanks."

"Seriously Richard, it's a good thing you own that bar. You spend enough time there."

"I like it," he protested. "Besides that wasn't where I was."

"Where were you?" Alexis asked. "We thought you were writing at the Old Haunt."

"A little place in Queens."

"Queens? Darling, why would you go all the way out there?"

"I went out there," he paused dramatically, "to duel."

He was met by two flat stares.

"Dad," Alexis reproached.

"No, seriously. I dueled the leader of a motorcycle gang and his group with a pool cue." He didn't look away from his daughter and kept his face perfectly straight.

She stared back and he just nodded. "Yes Ma'am. And you said that I'd never use that skill in real life," he scoffed.

"You dueled a biker with a pool cue." Alexis repeated slowly.

He nodded eagerly. "Knocked him out too," he added proudly.

"Oh. That explains why you're so late. You probably had to wait for Beckett to come and use her influence to bail you out."

"Really Richard," his mother sighed.

"Whoa whoa whoa. I have enough connections to get myself out of jail."

"Kate's going to love this." Martha chuckled.

"Excuse me," he still looked affronted. "She was with me."

Alexis' mouth dropped. "You got Detective Beckett arrested!"

"What? No!"

They both looked exasperated.

"We arrested them," he insisted. "We were undercover."

"Well why didn't you say that in the first place?" Martha turned back to her magazine.

A real hero's welcome, that.

"Really, Dad," Alexis sighed, packing up her study books.

His squash buckling wasn't even appreciated by his own flesh, he thought with a mental whine.

"I'm heading to bed. Night, Grams." The diva accepted her kiss and then she swooped down on her father who had collapsed onto a stool to sulk. "Night, Dad." She kissed his cheek. "You need to shave."

"So I've been told."

"I'm glad you had fun with Detective Beckett."

"Me too, sweetie."

"And I want a full reenactment of your epic battle tomorrow night."

"You got it."

That night he looked at the small bruises on either side of his kneecap and wondered if he was strange for smiling at them.

…

Next chapter will be the last.

Started a new story, Collaboration, and would appreciate the support. Not an Always fic.