Some of you guys complaint about not being able to read this chapter, so I'm re-posting!

To my amazing beta, THANK YOU! Hope you have some great holidays! And to the rest of the readres, It's really good to know you're still out there!

Just in case, this chapter's about what Castle did while Kate slept during their third morning together!

Hours 57, 58 and 59

I wake up slowly. Well, it's more like I wake up with a start, but I regain consciousness slowly. I'm not yet alert enough to understand what woke me, but an inquisitive mind like mine can't really wait too long to try to find out. My first real thought is 'Humph. Something feels odd.' Accompanied by 'something feels really great'. That one pretty close to 'I'm not in my bed and why the on earth is it so bright? Those damn black out curtains are no longer doing their job!'

As I slowly come back to myself I realize that it's so bright because we're outside. The we from that thought makes me realize that the thing that feels really good is none other than the amazing KB, completely asleep in my arms. And 'what the hell is that thing in my face?!' I bring a finger to try to figure it out but I soon realize just how big a mistake that was! Bird poop! The not so nice thing that woke me up is some dammed bird poop!

Crap!

Pun intended.

I disentangle myself from around Beckett as carefully as I can manage (no need for her to wake up with my face covered in bird shit, right?) As luck will have it-I guess being pooped on by a bird does bring you some of it- the amazing woman in my arms only stirs a little, mumbles something similar to Castle go back to sleep and falls deep asleep again. That was close! Without taking a second glance, I go straight to the bathroom. Getting cleaned up is top priority right now. I find some toilet paper and take a big chunk of the thing off my face. Once it seems safe enough, I open the hot water and finish cleaning it with lots and lots of soap. But nothing seems enough, so I decide that some shaving with warming foam is in order. Only after rinsing my face for what feels like the tenth time do I feel clean. I consider a shower, but given the fact that the last two showers were shared with NYPD's finest, I hold on to the hope that maybe we'll share one today, too.

I glance at my watch and I suddenly have a second rush of hateful feelings towards the bird responsible for my waking. At seven in the morning I'm pretty sure I should still be out there, enjoying the morning sun, and what's more important, the warm, human heat of my future wife. Not here, in front of the bathroom sink, with nothing to do but mourn my lack of sleep. Resigning myself to a long morning without Beckett, I pad towards the kitchen looking for some coffee. A good, rich African blend usually does wonders to help me bypass the fact that I should really be in bed-with or without Beckett in it.

This time is no exception. I still feel disappointed, but the first sips of caffeine allow me to put things into perspective. Some alone time would allow me to pack my bag for the Hamptons, make sure all my business is in order before we leave so I don't need to worry about that while we enjoy the summer, and I guess I could maybe even do some writing.

But first thing's first: I decide to tempt fate by going back outside only to find Beckett curled into herself. "I guess the morning air without your personal teddy bear is a bit chilly on you detective." I mumble.

Feeling sorry for her and suddenly hoping she gets a few more well-deserved hours of sleep, I grab a second blanket and slowly pull it over here. It seems to do the trick for not 10 seconds later she's relaxing again.

I take a few minutes, maybe a dozen of them or so, and before my wishful thinking wakes her, I go back inside. I mentally made a list of three things to do before she wakes up. I challenge myself to get at least two of them done. I start with the easiest one: packing a bag. I have most of the things I usually need, but just in case, I decide to take some more presentable outfits, hoping Kate will allow me to take her out some nights. I also pack the new swimming trunks Alexis bought for me during her last shopping spree and a few extra essentials, such as my Green Lantern t-shirts and my Batman PJ's… Though I hope I won't be using them much.

Confident that everything I need is packed, I close the zipper with a flourish and take another look at my watch. Only ten minutes of my alone time has been wasted packing, which means ten minutes gained with Beckett when she wakes up. One less useless thing to take care of when she joins the land of the living again.

What's next on the list? Making sure my business is in order. As I usually do at this time of the year, I email my accountant announcing I'm planning to stay away from the city for at least three months and reminding him that if anything should come up he's to call me, never before eleven and never after six. Then I email Gina, asking about the last draft I sent her and reminding her to send a readable copy to the Hamptons so Kate can have her own copy as soon as we get there. I then email Paula asking her not to bother me for the next three months, because we both know anything she might have to say to me can wait until bitter old autumn gets here. A few more emails and I'm ready to move to the next item on my 'To Do' list. Get some writing done. Easier said – or thought – than done.

I decide that a second visit to my sleeping beauty – whatever you do, don't let her hear you say that. And just in case, I repeat that thought as a mantra until I'm back outside looking down at her. She seems so peaceful; so at ease, that once again, after a few minutes I resist the temptation of joining her on the lounge chair because she still deserves many more hours of sleep. I guess I could set myself in the other one, but being in one alone is not as appealing as sharing hers. Nine year old as I am though, I can't really spend hours awake without thinking of a way to get on her nerves, even if just a little bit. And that's when I see it. Her phone is lying carelessly on the table. It's been a while since I last changed her settings so I decide some tuning up is in order. It takes me a few minutes to crack her code- apples… I should really ask her why she has my safe word as her phone's password. However, once I'm in I don't lose any time, don't want to be caught with my hand in the cookie jar you know?

I'm infantile but I'm not stupid…

I put my goofiest face on and take a picture to set as my new ID photo. I then make the risky decision of taking one of my bedroom – with the bed right in the middle – and place it as background image (wonder how long that one will last…). And last but not least, I change my ID ringtone. It takes me absolutely ages to think of a good, cheesy, embarrassing song, but I finally come up with a good one. I mean, is there a more predictable song than I just called to say I love you? I don't think so…I use all my ninja skills to go back outside and place the phone back on the table, but at easy reach. I figure if she's not up by ten I'll give her a nice, romantic wakeup call. I'm the perfect guy aren't I?

Ok Castle, leave the balcony. We all know your ninja skills aren't your forte. You're more of a Jedi-mind-playing-games kind of guy. This time though, I do look back. But who can blame me? She's just sleeping there, looking all peaceful, wearing a tiny smile that says she's a happier human being. And I'd like to think I had something to do with that. So, yeah, I spend an uncounted amount of time just looking at her and picturing us enjoying many mornings like this. With me waking up before her, trying mindlessly to entertain myself so she can rest some more.

As I go back inside, I ponder the idea of finally being allowed to smother her a bit. I know she won't allow for much of that, but knowing that I'll be there to make sure she gets at least three meals a day, take at least one day a week off (not for a lack of trying to get the entire weekend) and maybe even, if the planets are aligned, a few weeks a year to be spent sorely reading, sleeping, sun bathing and well… being in bed together.

Note to self: try to control these unthinkable thoughts or you're going to be in deep trouble. YOUR Jedi tricks aren't as half as good as HERS are…

Ok, so, bag, done. Emails, done. Wako staring and phone hacking, done. Only one thing left to do: write. Humph. There has to be something else, hopefully useful, that I can do right now… Let's be honest, who wants to write a book belonging to a series before the printing house confirms it's viability… That's settled. Cooking breakfast it is. I'm getting hungry as it is, and I bet Kate will be too when she wakes up. Now, what can I cook that will keep in case she takes longer than expected (thus allowing me to premier my new self-set ringtone!)?

I open the pastry and find yesterdays bread. Some butter in the fridge – no jam, no syrup, no Nutella – we really need to go shopping before we leave for the Hamptons. Coming back to an empty kitchen is no fun at all. Trust me, I've been there. Without giving it a second thought, I start slicing the bread the way I do when I make Alexis and I special toasts. I know for a fact that Beckett would never indulge in something as fattening as bread with butter and sugar, but as soon as she tries these ones she'll probably get addicted as Little Me used to be, and calories be damned.

Once breakfast is done – and my half is consumed – I decide that maybe doing some writing isn't such a bad idea. I bet Beckett, and all the women in my life for that matter, would like some proof of my ability to write about Nikki and Rook without my daily visits to the precinct. So, what better time than now to start?

I set myself an easy goal: plan the basic outline, get some ideas for the murder and maybe some alternative story lines for the main characters. Nothing too specific, just a string of thoughts that can easily later – when you're an as skilled and avid writer as yours truly – be turned into a book. As I said before, easier said than done. But eventually my mind gets going and before I know it, it's already ten. Which means, it's already time to call Beckett. Even if it's just to tell her that I love her.