To all those who reviewed, thank you. I know I don`t say it enough, but you truly make my day. And caskett . vs . stanathan, this story wouldn`t be what it is without you! What are we going to do without Castle next week. What`s even worst, how are we going to survive the next Castle episode...

Hope you enjoy, and if you feel like it, please review.

i.

Hour 68

I love him.

Rick Castle: famous author, millionaire, playboy, man-child, king of innuendo, wonderful father, caring human being. I was at first intimidated by the first two, put off by the third, annoyed by the fourth, humoured and challenged by the fifth and intrigued by the last two. And now, it seems, I love all of them. Well, maybe not the playboy bit.

While I finish doing the dishes, I can feel him looking at me, setting up the ironing board while looking into the kitchen, as if trying to sense my mood or trying to convince me to stay here using his Jedi Powers, as if he really needed them. So, I go for reassuring: without turning around, meaning, with my back to him, I ask: "Have I told you lately?"

I hear the smile in his voice when he asks: "Told me what?"

"That I love you."

"Still?"

"Always."

And that's all it takes to have him come to me, place his arms around me and kiss my neck. He actually leaves a whole path of butterfly kisses there, haltering my work with the dishes. "Castle, I can't focus if you keep doing that."

"And why would I care about that? Dishes were your chore, not mine. You never said anything about me not being allowed to pester you while you did your work."

"Well, I'm telling you now. Go back to setting the ironing board."

"Been there, done that hun. I'm just waiting for you to finish so I can start reading to you while you work on our shirts."

"I'll be done a lot faster if you let go of my neck."

"Yeah, but if I let go of your neck I wouldn't be kissing you, I'd just be sitting over there, alone on the couch."

"Then make yourself useful and start drying. If we finish together, I may allow you to continue kissing me all the way to the ironing board."

And with that, his hands drop to my sides, he grabs a dishcloth and starts drying with an amazing speed.

"Do them fast but do them well, if not, don't do them at all…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know! I'll even let you check with your big-fat-Mary-Poppins-thumb!"

"Did you just call me fat?"

"No, I used the fact that the thumb is the fastest of your fingers to make a point-"

"Nice save, writer boy!"

We remain working in silence for a while, but as soon as we're done, I feel him come up behind me to sneak his arms around me. His hands go to my waist, our legs get all tangled up and he pushes me forward while, once again, dropping kisses all around my neck, some of them openmouthed, some raspberry like and some of them are barely there but highly arousing butterfly kisses. Who knew there were so many kisses to be listed?! We reach the ironing board way too soon for my liking, but a deal is a deal and we don't really have much time to lose. But we can spare a few minutes right? Before I let him go completely, I turn around, link my hands around his neck and bring him closer for a series of short but meaningful kisses.

Placing his forehead next to mine, he eventually resists one of those kisses and softly announces that we should let go of each other or we'd never get anything done. Don't you hate it when the five year old on a sugar rush is actually the mindful one? Cause I sure as hell do. But when he's right, he's right, and what am I to do about that?! I push him towards the couch where Frozen Heat is waiting and turn to the ironing board to get started with the button ups.

"Just to be sure, you know you don't have to do this right?" He says, looking up at me with sincerity sparkling in his eyes.

"Yes. And you know there's no need for you to lend me your clothes or to read me your books, right?"

"Fine. You win. I'll read, you'll iron."

"Thanks. Now start!"

"Bossy! I like it!"

"Castle…" I warn but he cuts me off

"Ok, so last night we left Nikki and Rook after they discussed whether or not they could go to Hawaii. So… on with the reading."

SPOILERS FOR FROZEN HEAT AHEAD!

Castle reads:

"The crime scene was on her way to the precinct, so instead of going up to the Twentieth first to sign out a car and then double back, Heat got off the B train a stop early at 72nd Street to hoof it. The bomb squad had ordered a precautionary traffic shutdown at Columbus Avenue, and Nikki came up the subway steps near the Dakota to witness nightmare gridlock backed up all the way to Central Park. The sooner she finished her investigation, the sooner relief would come to the stuck drivers, so she quickened her stride. But she didn't shorten her contemplation.

As always, Detective Heat steeped herself in thoughts of the victim on approach to a body. She didn't need Rook to remind her how many homicides there were in the city every year. But her vow was never to let volume dehumanize a single lost life. Or inure her to the impact on friends and loved ones. For her, this wasn't lip service or some PR tagline. Nikki had come by it honestly years ago when her mother was murdered. Heat's loss not only spurred her to switch her college major to criminal justice, it forged the mold for the kind of cop she vowed to be. Ten years later, her mother's case remained unsolved, but the detective remained unbending in her advocacy for each victim, one at a time."

NO MORE SPOILERS

"That's one of the many things I love about you."

"And what's that Castle?"

"How you never allow the number of victims make you forget the fact that to every single one of them, and to every single parent, sibling or child, that death, that murder, was personal."

"Yeah, well. I always thought that if detective Raglan had seen my mother's murder that way, maybe today I'd know who took her away from me. And I don't mean the guy with the knife, but the sick mind behind it. Whoever that person is could have been stopped if someone had thought about what finding the truth meant to my dad and I." We fall silent for a while, both lost in thought. After finishing the shirt I'm ironing, I set the iron aside and, looking at him, I say: "And that's one of the things I love about you."

"Huh?"

"I'll never admit this to anyone else, but from the first line on the first Nikki Heat book I knew you had nailed me. I knew that despite the snide remarks, the slutty image and the naked girl on the cover, during that first year you had seen through me. Peeled more layers to the Beckett onion I cared to admit. And it scared the shit out of me. It still does. Back then you were the annoying plucky sidekick, with playboy tendencies and an out of this word teenage daughter. It was frustrating to see how much you knew me back then. And it made me wonder if we were going to be as good as Nikki and Rook were in page 105."

"We could always try to recreate that night. I have some tequila, we bought a few limes yesterday…"

"Some other day maybe, but I want to remember every single minute of tonight. Plus, if we're driving to the Hamptons tomorrow, I don't want to wait the morning fighting a hangover, I can think about a thousand things I'd rather do in that time!"

"I see your point. Shall I go on?"

"Yes please!"

And so he goes on, reading the book that portraits our fourth year together. I wonder if they'll exchange the "L" word in this book, or if he doubted my feelings so much while he was writing it that he never gave them the chance to admit it to each other. I try to shut my mind off and focus on the sound of his voice and the story he's telling me. What a great way to spend the 68th hour of this beautiful festival we started during a stormy night.