Parts of this episode were very difficult for me to watch. I usually do a rewatch before writing a chapter but I can't do it with this one. If I missed anything major, please let me know and I'll do my best to make the necessary edits.

The Fast And The Furriest

Thank goodness they'd already crossed blanket fort off Castle's bucket list, Kate thought with a sigh, as she wrestled with yet another bed sheet, untangling it from the couch cushion that was wedged under the edge of the stairs. She'd enjoyed it as much as he did... constructing the whole thing, spending the day (and night) cuddled up watching movies and eating pizza and drinking coffee and reading their journal.

But now, after a long day at the precinct full of frustratingly unhelpful leads, the last thing she wanted to have to do was put the loft back together.

She worked the sheet free, tossed it in the pile with the others – poor Elisa was going to have an enormous amount of laundry to do this week – before grabbing the cushion and crossing the room to return it to the sofa.

She circled the piece of furniture, stepping around a blanket-draped chair only to nearly trip over... a person.

"Castle!" she exclaimed, awkwardly forcing the cushion back into its place while attempting to regain her balance. "You're supposed to be helping me with this."

"I was," he protested.

"'Was' being the operative word here."

"I got distracted," he offered by way of apology.

Kate's eyes fell to his lap then, to the book cradled in his hands as he sat cross-legged on the living room floor.

Their journal.

"Right now?" she asked, bordering on annoyed, because it had been a long day and she was tired and all she wanted to do was go to sleep. In their bed, which was currently devoid of blankets and pillows. Still.

Castle shrugged. "I found it on the floor."

"Can it wait?"

"Kate?" he reached up to catch her hand, thumb gently stroking over her skin. "What's going on?"

She shook her head, tugged her hand back, but his grip was tighter.

"Please?"

She sighed. "I'm just tired."

He got to his feet at her words, journal in one hand, hers in the other, and began to lead her across the loft. They crossed around the furniture, into their room, all the way to the bathroom, Kate trailing along against her will, but also not in the mood to turn this into an argument.

"Here," he murmured, depositing the book on the counter and reaching in to turn on the water. "Take a warm shower and just relax. I'll deal with the rest of this."

"Castle..." she protested, feeling patronized, her level of irritation rising in time with the temperature of the bathroom. Her intention was for him to help her, not to make him feel guilty and do all the work himself while treating her like a child.

"Please," he begged. "You deserve it. I can handle the mess."

She sighed, displeased.

"You helped me set all of this up." He gestured to the rest of the loft. "You did it all for me. The least I can do is clean it all up."

"Fine."

He reached in to adjust the water temperature slightly, squeezed her hand before disentangling and leaving the room without a word.

Kate paused to watch him go, felt a bit of her annoyance fading at his final words, before stripping off her clothes and stepping beneath the spray.

The shower was refreshing; she'd give him that. She felt better and more relaxed, her muscles less weary. Still a bit on edge, though.

She slipped back into their bedroom a few minutes later wrapped in a bathrobe, wet hair secured back into a French braid, to find Castle rearranging the pillows on their remade bed.

That was fast. She assumed the rest of the loft was still at least somewhat in shambles. Whatever. They could deal with it later.

"Better?" he asked, not bothering to turn around.

"Yeah," she replied with a half-hearted shrug.

He turned down the covers, settled on his side as she curled into hers, journal clutched in one hand. Castle reached out to pry it from her grasp, set it aside, but she held firm, fingers sliding beneath the cover to flip it open.

He seemed to accept her silent decision without question, eased up next to her to read.

Dear Kate,

You know, it used to drive me crazy that you're so skeptical. That you don't believe in magic or fate, in Santa Claus or aliens or Bigfoot. I understand why, of course. I just used to wish you wouldn't be such a skeptic all the time. But the longer I've worked with you, the more I've started to understand the necessity of at least a certain level of skepticism. I think the two of us actually balance each other out rather nicely in that regard.

However, I hate that the world stole your innocence at such a young age, because innocence is a beautiful thing. So is believing in magic. I've wished for so long that there was some way to erase it all and help you to believe again, because I truly feel that you're missing out on so much.

I can't undo the past. I can, however, do my best to ensure that your future is full of magic. I've made that my mission for years now. I think I've even mentioned it before in this journal. But for the longest time, I wasn't sure it was working.

Now, though... I think it is.

Maybe Coltrane and his saxophone aren't completely magical, maybe spring flowers peeking through the snow is a completely explicable phenomenon, but there's still something special about those things. I love that you see that. I love that, to you, beauty like that is magical.

But you know what I love the most? That you can't explain us. I love it so much.

The truth is, neither can I. On the superficial level, I can say you're smart and beautiful and passionate and sexy as hell. Superficially, those certainly are reasons I'm attracted to you. But that's not all of it. Not by a long shot. There's so much more and I know I could never even begin to list all the reasons I love you or all the things I love about you or even why I love you in a way I've never loved anyone else. Things like that are inexplicable. They can't be captured by mere words.

So the fact that you can't explain us, and yet you're still here next to me, curled up in my bed, actually doing this... it means the world to me, because even if you don't admit it out loud, you wouldn't be here if you didn't believe in magic of some sort.

The truth is, we'll probably never be able to explain us. I'm okay with that, because love is one of those things that's better left a mystery. There's something so exciting about stepping into the unknown, especially with you by my side.

(Even if you don't believe in Bigfoot, despite my best attempts to convince you of his existence.)

Maybe one of these days I'll turn you into a believer. In the meantime, I'll just be content to enjoy the magic I feel in every day spent with you.

Love,

Rick

"So... Bigfoot?" Castle questioned, unable to help himself.

"What about him?"

"Have I convinced you yet?"

"What do you think?"

He shrugged. "You never know..."

"I'm pretty sure you believe enough for the both of us."

He opened his mouth, poised to protest, but Kate cut him off.

"It's not a bad thing, Castle," she murmured, one hand lifting to tenderly trace the line of his jaw, thumb brushing over the crinkles at the corner of his eye.

His gaze softened, facial features relaxing, smile blooming at her gentle ministrations, the love in her eyes.

"It's actually one of the first things that made me fall in love with you."

"That I... believe in Bigfoot?"

She laughed softly, shook her head. "That you believe in magic and aliens and everything that doesn't really have a place in my life. I love that you still have that innocence, because it reminds me that sometimes magical things really do happen and that it's okay to believe in them once in a while."

Castle lifted his hand to cover hers on his cheek, fingers insinuating themselves into the gaps between hers as he leaned into her touch, the warmth of her palm. His heart flooded with contentment at her words, so overcome with it all.

Sometimes it was hard to believe this was real.

"I love that I can do that for you," he replied, forcing the words past the lump in his throat.

Kate smiled brightly, her eyes mirroring the pure joy that was overwhelming him.

Because this was real.

And they were so damn lucky.

Thoughts?