He rolled over without opening his eyes. He sensed that it was morning, but he didn't want to get up yet, mostly just because he was comfortable.

But when his hand bumped something solid that most certainly had not been in his bed when he'd fallen asleep, he had no choice but to open his eyes. It was, he quickly deduced, a cloth-covered leg. With his eyes he followed it up to a body and finally a face, a very beautiful face that was looking at him.

"Hey," he said sleepily. "What are you doing over here?"

She brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "Nothing," she said, her cheeks going a little pink. "Sorry. Did I wake you up?"

"No, I was waking up anyway." With some effort, he pulled himself up into a seated position. "You okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah, yeah. I'm good."

"Good." But he was puzzled. She didn't look upset. In fact, she was acting like he woke up every morning to find her seated on the edge of his bed. While he would have no problem with that being true… it wasn't. "Okay, don't get me wrong," he started, "this isn't an entirely unpleasant way to wake up, but uh… what are you doing over here?"

"Just… sitting. Hanging out."

This response did nothing to allay his confusion. "Why?"

"Because… you're here."

He yawned. "I think I might need coffee if I want to make any sense of this conversation."

"Sometimes…" she began, "sometimes I think I take you for granted."

He frowned, unsure how to respond to that. "Well… I'm here. I'm granted."

"Yeah, but you don't have to be. If it wasn't for that first case, if that killer had picked another writer to copy, I might never have even met you. You'd always just be that writer I admired from afar."

His mouth twisted into a grin. "Admired?"

But she ignored him, going on talking. "But now here you are, trying to make sure I don't fall completely off the face of the earth, letting me stay at your place and doing things you think I'll like, even if they literally make you sick…"

He laughed, interrupting her. "Hey, I didn't know that was going to happen. I was excited too, if you'll remember."

She smiled. "I know, you were. I feel bad that it ended the way it did."

He raised his eyebrows. "It wasn't your fault."

"It might've been my driving… I was going faster than you were, and right into the waves…"

"It wasn't your driving," he interrupted her. "Your driving was… awesome. Had you done that before?"

She shook her head. "First time. But it's kind of like a motorcycle for the water… so I guess I caught on."

"You're a quick learner."

She nodded in pleased acknowledgement. "You feeling better today?"

He shrugged her off. "I was feeling fine last night."

"You still didn't eat much."

"Since when is it your job to keep track of how much I eat?"

"Since when is it your job to keep track of how much I sleep? And eat? And read?"

He smiled. "Touché." But he sensed the direction in which she seemed to be steering the conversation, and he didn't want to go there again. "But we've been through this. I don't mind."

To his surprise, she nodded. "I know you don't. That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying… that I care about you too. And sometimes I don't think I do a very good job of letting you know that."

He was taken aback by this direction change. He definitely hadn't been expecting it. "Where is this coming from?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Nowhere. I was just thinking." She stood up. "Come on. You're right. It's time for coffee."

He followed her into the kitchen, but he had no intention of forgetting the conversation, or even letting her begin a new one. "Thinking about what?" he asked as he walked.

"Nothing." She opened a random cabinet and shut it again. "Where the hell are your coffee filters?"

"Here." He opened the correct cabinet and handed her one. "And the coffee's above you. Obviously you were thinking about something or you wouldn't have said all of that."

She placed the filter and opened the container of coffee. She frowned at it, as they were whole coffee beans. "How do I grind these?"

He opened the compartment where they went and pointed to it. "In here, and push this button," he said, showing her. "But don't think you're going to avoid my question."

She followed his instructions and leaned against the counter as the coffee maker did its thing. "Just… sometimes it seems like so much of your life is about taking care of other people. Alexis, sometimes your mom, and lately me… but you have your own problems too."

He smiled. "Oh, I don't have too many problems. All things considered, I'd say my life is pretty good."

"Yeah, but no one's life is perfect." She half-smiled. "Not even yours. And I'm not like you. I'm not good at taking care of people. It's just… not what I'm used to."

He shrugged. "That's fine. Everyone's different."

"I know, but in a relationship, I mean, you know, like a friendship… both people have to be there for each other. You're doing so much for me now, and I just want you to know that… you know, if you ever needed anything…"

She was struggling, so he interrupted her. "I know."

"Do you?"

He nodded.

"Well…" she nodded. "Good."

"So, what should we do today?" Now he was ready to change the subject.

"Do we necessarily have to have a plan every day?"

He shook his head. "No, not necessarily. Just wondering if you had any ideas."

"No ideas."

The coffee finished brewing and Castle got two mugs out of one of the cabinets and set them down beside the pot. Kate filled two cups and he fixed them the way they both liked. Cream and two sugars in his, a little more cream and a little less sugar in hers.

Without discussion, they each took their cup and walked out to the deck. It was almost ritualized now, the way they began every morning. And it was nice. He couldn't help thinking he'd miss it when they got back to the city. He'd miss waking up in the same house, the same room with her. He'd even miss arguing with her nearly every day. On second thought, he doubted that would end. He'd always done that.

Anyway, it was only Friday. Friday of the first week. There was still more than a week before they had to be back for the hearing. The hearing. Something he'd been trying not to think about, trying not to let Kate think about. Eventually they both would have to think about it, but it didn't have to be now, did it? Later. Later was good.

"How's my ocean doing this fine morning?" he asked rhetorically, walking over to the railing and setting his coffee cup on it.

"Not so smooth today," she noted, standing beside him. "It's a good thing we did the thing with the jet ski yesterday."

She was right. Although yesterday there had been waves, today they were significantly bigger and closer together. Today they seemed to be fighting for position, colliding and cresting a foamy white when the battle no one won came to an end. He continued to watch the waves, fascinated, and unlike yesterday not the least bit sickened. Quite a few minutes passed before he realized he hadn't said anything.

"See your French girl?" Kate asked playfully.

That snapped him out of his trance, and he turned to look at her instead of the water. "It's just kind of mesmerizing, don't you think?" he asked. "Watching the water? It's like… it's in this constant battle with itself, but nothing ever really changes. No matter how much the surface blows around, crashes into itself, underneath it's still water. The same water it always was." She looked at him, smiling a little but not saying anything, and he looked back at the water. "I'm probably over thinking it. But you know, I'm a writer. It's what we do." He took a sip of his coffee.

"Well," she said, a smile in her voice, "I always did like your writing."

When he started thinking about dinner, he was sitting in a lounge chair on the beach alternating between writing in a leather-bound notebook and sipping a homemade rendition of a pina colada. Kate was in a chair beside him, and doing the same but reading rather than writing. She really was reading this time. He was sure of it because he kept hearing pages turn, and also because she had an adorable habit of making faces and sometimes little noises as she read, reacting to the events of the story.

The reflection of the sun, which was behind him, on the water told him it was getting later in the day, and the rumble of his stomach told him he should probably start talking to Kate about whether they should order in or go out for dinner, but he was so content with this moment that he wasn't willing to end it.

It turned out that he didn't have to end it, because his cell phone did it for him. He looked at the caller I.D. before he answered it. Lanie Parish. "Be right back," he murmured to Kate before taking the phone and trotting back to the house. He had a feeling Kate wouldn't be entirely okay with the fact that he and Lanie were talking about her without her knowledge.

"Hey Lanie," he answered the phone once he was behind the closed sliding glass door.

"Castle," she responded a little formally. "How's my girl?"

He smiled. "I'm happy to report she's doing a lot better."

"Good," Lanie said, although she sounded a little unconvinced. "So you got her to talk to you about everything?"

"A little. We're making progress. I don't want to push her too much before she's ready."

"I notice you still haven't managed to get her to call me."

"It hasn't really come up."

"You mean you didn't even mention it to her?"

He shrugged guiltily. "I guess not."

"Castle! It might be okay for you to have her there with you, avoiding all contact with the outside world, but you're not the only one who cares about her, and it would be nice for the rest of us to have some kind of confirmation that she's at least still breathing."

He laughed. "Well, you could call her instead of me."

"You think I haven't tried? I've tried. Javi's tried. Ryan's tried. Montgomery's tried. And that's just that I know of. She's not answering her phone for anyone. I don't even think it's turned on. And my thinking is that if she's still completely cutting herself off from everyone but you, she's not as okay as you want to think she is."

"I'll talk to her," he sighed. "She's just… been so much happier lately. I don't want to ruin that."

"She's gonna have to deal with reality eventually, Castle. When are you coming home?"

"Next Sunday night, probably. I figure that'll give her enough time to prepare for the hearing, but not enough time to dwell on it."

"If you're gonna keep her there that long, you better help her get ready."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"She's gonna have to explain her side of the story to a judge. It sounds to me like you're still letting her avoid talking about it at all. If you were there and she can't even talk to you about it, how the hell's she gonna do it at the hearing?"

Lanie was right. He knew Lanie was right. But that was not going to be an easy conversation, and things had been going so well lately. She'd been happy. She'd been opening up to him in her own small ways. He was afraid that if he pushed her too far all of that would end. But that was a chance he'd have to take… eventually. "You're right," he finally said. "I will."

"And make her call me! Especially if you're not going to be back until next week. I can't wait that long to talk to her, and I will resort to calling you and making you put her on the phone if I have to. Especially if you don't stop coddling her. It might be sweet, but it's not what she needs right now."

"I will ask her to call you, but I doubt I have the power to make her do anything she doesn't want to do."

"Especially if you don't try."

He rolled his eyes. "I said I'd try."

"Good. Do that. And keep me updated. Three days without hearing from either of you isn't good for the nerves."

"I will. Talk to you later, Lanie."

"Yes, you will." The M.E. hung up.

He was surprised when he turned around to go back outside that Kate was standing right behind him. He jumped considerably. "Geez! How did you get in here without me hearing the door?"

She rolled her eyes. "I wasn't trying to be sneaky, you were just distracted. Why were you talking to Lanie?"

He sighed. "How much did you hear?"

"Just the end. But you were talking about me, weren't you?"

He looked down. "I'm not sure what else Lanie and I would have to talk about…"

"How long have you been talking to her?"

"Only twice since we've been here."

"Two times in less than a week?"

"Yeah… she called me. You haven't been answering her calls, so she called me to make sure you were okay." He saw the irritation on her face and defended her friend's actions. "She just cares about you, that's all. And if you'd have called her back she wouldn't have had to call me."

"I just… haven't felt much like talking to anyone."

"Except me."

"You're different."

"I am?" The way she'd said that, he wasn't sure how to take it. Was it a compliment or an insult? Or neither?

"You were with me when everything happened. I don't have to explain anything to you. And you're not trying to make me talk about it before I'm ready. That's what everyone else is going to try to do."

Oh. So it was both, although she'd meant it as a compliment. But now was obviously not the time to take Lanie's advice, at least not the second part. "I just know that I'm not the only one who cares about you. Have you talked to anyone from home since we left?"

She shook her head.

"No one?"

"My phone's not even on."

"That's not good. Lanie told me that she, Esposito, Ryan, and Montgomery have all been trying to call you, and what about your dad? I'm sure he's heard something about what happened by now. Don't you think he deserves at least to know that you're safe?"

She looked down. "You're probably right."

"I am right. At least call him. Not necessarily right now, but soon. And call Lanie, because if you don't she might just come here herself and strangle me to death with her bare hands."

Kate chuckled. "I'd protect you. You might not be able to take her, but I can."

He smiled. "Good to know. So what do you think about dinner tonight? Go out or order in?"

"Order in. Apparently I have a couple of phone calls to make."

A/N: Well... I like the first part of this chapter a lot better than the second, but it's all important plot-wise. I actually really like the first part... some progress, a bit of role reversal, and a nice little cameo from the ocean metaphor. Actually there it was probably more symbolism than metaphor, but regardless... it's pretty. I'm kind of whatever about the second part, but it does help to move the plot along. Anyway.

Reviews are nice. :) That's all. I won't be too annoying about it this time.