A/N: I have a feeling the last chapter may have left people a bit cold. I'll hold off for a while before the next angsty story, but I think it was also lacking the sparkling dialogue of the earlier chapters that everyone seemed to love so much. As usual, thanks for the alerts, reviews and faves. I also think I should clarify something: I mentioned earlier that I'm a Taylor Swift fan. Thirteen is her lucky number. It's my lucky number anyway but it means even more now. That's all I meant. Fourteen reviews are great - even better! All mistakes are mine. I swear I do proofread but I keep missing stuff.

This is the first multi-scenario chapter. The two scenarios have nothing to do with each other and are in the same chapter because they fit the same category. Let me know if it's too confusing. I hope this fic doesn't get taken down for one paraphrased line from a Beatles song. This was supposed to be all about the ILYs but it ended up being about Castle and Beckett taking care of each other. How sweet is that? I love Caskett so much.

Edit[25 August, 2012]: Thankyou to Micrazy2 for pointing out some discrepancies with the alcohol. I'm not a big drinker, ok? Hopefully it's been amended.

Edit [01 September 2012] : Decided to give the scenarios names (because quoting Taylor Swift songs and Alyson Hannigan lines make me happy)Upload Date: (24 August, 2012

Chapter Rating: K+ (Alcohol, very mild sexual references, very mild coarse language in the end Author Notes)

Chapter Summary: Two alternate intoxication scenarios, one where Beckett gets drunk, and then another where the roles are reversed.

#7: (It's a Vomit Story; Baby, Just Say Yes) Beckett gets a little carried away at a wine-tasting and ends up uncharacteristically drunk. Castle takes care of her back at her place.

#8: (Love isn't Just a Feeling; it's Shaving Your Balls)Castle and Beckett have a drinking contest at The Old Haunt after hours. Castle loses. Beckett takes care of him.*

#7

Beckett burst into laughter when he dropped his spare key. Attempting to hold her up, he tried retrieving with his feet, which just made her laugh harder. Eventually, they managed to get inside Beckett's apartment. Castle had never seen her this intoxicated before. Usually, she was pretty good at handling her liquor. Apparently, this had been her first wine-tasting, which surprised him, having thought of her as a woman of the world, although he supposed she'd probably just never had time for them.

Eventually, he was able to get her on the couch, deciding the bed was probably a little too ambitious.

She giggled and then suddenly stopped.

"Whoa, whoa. Did you feel that?"

"No," said Castle. "I'm not drunk."

She squealed with laughter. "But I totally am! I know! I'm drunk. So, Castle -"

"Yeah?" he sighed, sitting next to her and putting a blanket over her.

"Castle."

"Yeah."

"Castle. Castle. Castle."

"What?"

She laughed. "You have a funny name. Castle. Why don't ya just go by Rick?"

"I do. You're the one who calls me that. Come on, lay down."

"I'm ok. I'm fine. I'm fine, I'm -" she stopped. Held her hand to her mouth

Crap. The next thing he knew, he was covered in vomit.

He sighed and carried her to the bathroom.

"Oh, don't, no, don't like that. Too much moving – ah."

"It's ok, I got you," he said, placing her in front of the toilet and holding back her hair through her sickness.

"Oh, God," she said, lifting her head. "I'm so gross right now."

"Yeah, you are," he agreed, rubbing her back gently. After it seemed that he was done, he placed her gently in the tub.

When he returned from the laundry room he was shirtless and barefoot.

"Ooh, sexy times. Ok." She started to remove her clothes.

"No, not sexy times, but yes, I need you to take off your clothes."

She stared up at him, her face childlike.
"No, but um – you – you can't – don't, I'm in a highly Confuciusedable state. New York!" She giggled. "I made a funny."

"Yeah," said Castle, taking off her clothes and running the bath for her.

While she was in the tub, he cleaned up in the living room and changed.

He came back, washed her hair, got her to brush her teeth, put her in a fresh change of clothes and took her to bed.

"You're a good boyfriend," she said drowsily as he tucked her in.

He smiled. "I know."

"Best boyfriend ever. Champion boyfriend."

He picked up the silver bowl he had brought and put it on the dresser.

"Aww!" she said as if he had presented her with a bouquet of roses. "See? I told you. Aren't you awesome?"

"Yeah, I'm awesome. Lay your head down."

She complied.

"Such a good boyfriend," she mumbled. "Love you."

He smiled as he stroked her hair.

After a few moments, she suddenly looked very aware.

"Did I just say I love you?"

"Yeah."

She laugh and gasped at the same time.
"Uh-oh. I hope I don't remember."

He knew not to take anything she said in her inebriated state seriously, but he couldn't stifle the sudden pain her words triggered.

"If I do remember, I'm gonna be so pissed. I had this whole plan – there was a speech – shh! Don't tell me when I'm sober, ok – ok! Ok?"

He held back a laugh, relieved. "There was a speech?"

"Yeah. I didn't write it down. It was in my head, but I practised it over and over." She laughed again. "Sober Kate's gonna be so mad at me!"

"It's ok, I won't tell her."

"I thought we weren't supposed to keep secrets. Bad castle!" she slapped him.

"Ow!"

"Oh, what happened? You ok?"

"Yeah, some crazy drunk woman just slapped me."

"Oh, no. Want me to shoot her? I can shoot her for you, Castle."

"No, I think she's been shot enough times. You just go to sleep."

"Ok," she said, closing her eyes. "You take care of yourself, Castle."

"I will."

Her mouth hung open and she started to drool.

Castle shook his head incredulously and made a mental note: no more wine tastings.

The next day...

Her stomach was full and empty at the same time. Her throat was impossibly dry and her head was spinning. Beckett groaned. Then she suddenly sniffed. She could smell coffee. It was simultaneously inviting and repulsing.

"Somebody's up," said Castle, walking in with two cups.

"Mm, morning," she said, taking the coffee from him.

"Good morning," he said, sitting down on the bed and kissing her lightly on the head.

"How you feeling?"

"Like I just spent the weekend with Lindsay Lohan." She rested casually on his shoulder as she forced herself to drink the latte'.

The combination of heat and caffeine cleared her head somewhat and she started to remember the night's events.

"So, I guess I got a little carried away, huh?"

He chuckled. "A little carried away? If I hadn't been there you would have started making out with the cab driver."

"Oh, God, I'm not one of those slutty drunks am I?"

"Well, they say you're more yourself when you're drunk."

She shot him razor eyes.
"Not in the mood, Castle." She sighed. "How much did I say last night?"

"You remember, don't you?"

She sighed.
"Yeah."

"Don't worry about it. You didn't have to make this big romantic gesture. I thought it was beautiful."

"Beautiful? I threw up on you."

"Not the first time that's happened to me during a declaration of love."

"Yeah, see, I didn't want to be like one of your random bimboes. It was supposed to be special and I ruined it."

"You didn't ruin it. It was special. Although if you're that worked up about it, why didn't you say something earlier?"

"I was waiting for the right moment - but the right moment never seemed to come. Then, the other day, I just thought, 'Wow, it's nearly been a year.' So, I thought about it some more and I realised I should just suck it up and get it over with."

"So romantic."

"I was going to say something. I had a plan. Next week's our anniversary."

He raised his eyebrows.

"What, you didn't remember?"

"No, I remembered. I'm just surprised you did. Did you really have a speech?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not reciting it now, Castle. I'm hung over. "

"I understand," he said, unable to hide the disappointment in his voice.

She sighed, turning so that she was staring him right in the face. "I can give you the basic gist of it, if you like."

His face lit up.

She shook her head incredulously, rolling her eyes. "Richard Castle," she started," to me, you are wonderful; and I am irrefutably, positively, undeniably in love with you. There. How's that?"

He shrugged, containing the urge to do a happy-dance at her beautiful, awesome words.
"Not bad. Personally, I prefer the vomit story, boozy."

"I'm not living that one down, am I?"

"Not likely."

"You're gonna tell everyone we know that story, aren't you?"

"Probably."

"Well, that's not the one we're telling the kids."

There was a pause as they both digested what she had just said.

"Kids?" he finally echoed, unable to contain his shock.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, Castle," she said, slightly mortified. "It's just a figure of speech."

After his surprise wore off, he smirked.
"Hey I'm a writer. I think I'm fairly familiar with most figures of speech. That sounds more like a Freudian slip to me."

Beckett groaned as she freed herself from his arms, putting the coffee on the bedside table.
"I'm never drinking again."

"You're right; that would be a bad example for the kids."

"Castle," she warned as she walked to the bathroom.

"Besides, you can't drink during pregnancy," he called out after her.

"Shut up," she called back.

Castle was grinning from ear to ear and, within the confines of her bathroom, Beckett was glad he couldn't see that she was doing the same.

She came back out about five minutes later.

"Castle?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for taking care of me," she said softly, sitting back in his arms.

He smiled as he held her close. He loved Kate in all her forms: Drunk Beckett, Sober Beckett, hungover Beckett, Cop Beckett, Naked Beckett, Sleepy Beckett - there were so many more to choose from, and when you put them together you got one amazing, unique individual; and he was so honoured that she let him be the one to hold back her hair when she was sick.

#8

The Old Haunt wasclosed. The manager had just left. Castle had told him he would lock up. He and Beckett had both been in a particularly good mood that night. Ryan and Esposito had made up, Esposito was not going back to the military and Gates knew about their relationship but had allowed Castle to stay on as Beckett's shadow. They'd all - with the exception of Gates - decided to come here to celebrate, and had gotten a few drinks in them.

After everyone else had left, Castle and Beckett had decided to start their own private drinking contest.

An hour later, Castle was about ready to pass out while Beckett was barely tipsy.

"Do you concede?"

"N-uhver," Castle mumbled with great difficulty, slumping into his chair. Normally, Castle was a "fun" drunk but he was well-past that stage now.

Beckett shook her head, smiling. "Come on," she said, getting up.

"No."

"I'm cutting you off."

"M-my bar."

She ducked down, placed his arm over her shoulders and put her own arm around him.

"What did you tell me last week?"

"Uh..."

"At the swing-set."

His eyes looked unfocused for a moment, and then he turned his head to look at her.

"I'm yours," he said finally.

"Right," she said,her alcohol-induced euphoria increasing three-fold at hearing him say those words again, even in his current state. "You own the bar and I own you. So, really, it's my bar."

"Yes, ma'am," he hiccupped.

She grunted as she attempted to lift him up. It took about fifteen minutes to haul her hulking mass of a boyfriend to the office, where she managed to sit him down on the couch, gasping for breath.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, calling the manager to let him know that Castle had downed one too may and was staying the night. He was ok with it - after all, Castle was the boss.

He started playing with her hair.

She tried to pull away. "Castle."

"You have pretty hair."

"Thank-you. So do you."

He took a heap into his hands and sniffed.

"Mm, smells pretty, too."

She chuckled. "Ok, getting a little creepy, now, Castle. Come on."

She pulled him down gently so that his head rested in her lap.

"I love your hair," he said as she stroked his gently.

"I love yours, too."

"I love you."

She smiled.
"I know."

"Do you love me?"

She paused.
"Hell, no," she said finally.

He smiled sceptically.
"Yeah, you do."

"No, I don't."

"Yeah, you do." He started to sing softly, "She loves me, yeah, yeah, yeah..."

She rolled her eyes and looked down at him, watching him as he travelled off to his own little world. She sighed.

"Of course I love you," she said finally.

He stopped humming.

"Ha-ha, I knew it." He dozed off not long after.

She lifted his head slightly, got up and replaced herself with her jacket, laying him back down gently before turning everything off, locking up and retiring to the office chair.

She knelt beside the couch, shaking him gently.

"Come on, wake up."

He stirred, opening his eyes slowly and stretching.

He groaned.

"Morning," she smiled.

"Oh, kill me now."

"Sorry, I'm a cop. Murder's a crime in this state."

He rubbed his eyes as he sat up.

She rose and sat next to him.

"Feeling pretty crappy, huh?" she asked, handing him a coffee.

"Oh, hey, I never showed you how to use our espresso machine. It's fifty-years-old. It requires a special touch. "

She nodded. "I'm sorry. I'm sure it's nowhere near up to scratch."

"Well, that's ok." He took a sip. Oh, merciful Zeus, that's good, he thought.

"I hope it's not too bad," she smirked, reading his face.

"Uh, it's passable."

She rolled her eyes.
"So, after you've finished your coffee we should get going. I'll take you to the loft."

"Don't you have work?

"It's Saturday, Castle. So, I'm on call but I don't have to go in if no one gets killed."

He nodded. "Thank-you."

"You're welcome."

"No, I mean it. Things are a bit hazy, but I remember that you took care of me."

"What else do you remember?"

He grinned.

She groaned, putting her face in her hands.

"Are you ashamed?"

"Of course not. It's just that I still wasn't ready to say it. I didn't think you'd remember."

"Hey, it's not like I didn't already know," he said, pulling her hands down and placing one of his over them. "You've taught me that love isn't just something you feel, or say, it's something you do. It's staying out to take care of your drunk boyfriend, giving him coffee when he's hung-over the next day; dressing up as Cat-Woman on his birthday..."

"Ok, I get the idea," she said, climbing on to his lap.

"Oh, there's another good way to say, 'I love you'," he chuckled as she took his bottom lip between her teeth, trying not to spill the coffee that was still in his hand while using his other to caress her back.

*See? How sweet. Caskett effing rules.

Reference to Once More WIth Feeling (Buffy) totally intentional.