"Hey Beckett, I'm back and I brought Chinese," she heard him announce from the kitchen and she hastily shoved the desk drawer closed, pushed herself away from his desk, and hurried back into the bedroom.

"Kate?"

"Just a second," she called back, needing a moment to think of a plan. She had been trying to figure out his identity as a writer ever since he had revealed he was a published author, but with him offering her no hints and with little resources at hand, she hadn't actually thought she would learn the truth unless he gave in and told her.

She had to play this just right.

"I promise one of these days I'll make you a real meal," he was saying when he noticed her coming from the office while he splayed the multitude of styrofoam containers across the dining table.

"No worries, Castle. Chinese is my favorite."

"Good, because-"

She watched him freeze, his body immediately tensing as her words registered. Rick turned on his heel and looked to her in bewilderment.

"How-"

"You left the manuscript for Storm Fall in your top desk drawer."

"And why exactly were you snooping through my drawers without a warrant, Detective Beckett?" he questioned with a teasingly quirked eyebrow and she felt any worry she might have had dissipate. She'd feared he might be upset about her learning the truth, but instead he looked… elated? Like he had been waiting for her to figure it out all along.

"I was innocently searching for a pen."

"Hmm," he nodded, abandoning the Chinese food to step towards her. "So, now that you've solved the mystery, how does it feel to be so intimately acquainted with your all time favorite author?"

She released an amused scoff at his question and swerved around him for the table when he got too close.

"Please, you know Patterson will always be my favorite," she insisted while she snagged a fork and began making her way through the buffet he had assembled.

"Aww Beckett, c'mon, Patterson?" he whined, following her with a pout as she scooped a small portion of food from each container onto her plate.

"One thing I do have to know, why Castle? What inspired that?"

She was truly curious, but when she glimpsed over her shoulder, he was rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment and diverting his gaze to the table.

"It just - sounded right." He shrugged and she couldn't remember a time she had ever seen him so self-conscious. "Had a nice ring to it, definitely better than Rodgers. Gotta have a memorable name if you want to sell books."

"Castle." She said the name slowly, enjoying the way it rolled off her tongue and how his eyes darkened a shade when he glanced back at her.

He shook his head, his voice husky when he murmured under his breath, "Gonna kill me, Beckett."

She was grinning when she put her plate down and went into the kitchen, grabbed two bottled waters from the fridge before returning to her usual seat.

"You look beautiful by the way," he commented as he sat down next to her with his own plate and she felt the blush automatically crawl up her neck as she ran her fingers through her hair, brushing her shoulders now and infused with the honey colored highlights she had always gravitated towards in the past. She was wearing makeup today as well, for the first time since she had woken up, and when she had seen her reflection after allowing the woman in Sephora to give her a quick makeover, she had actually smiled. That confidence she had been lacking over her appearance had finally returned.

"Thanks. I'm really starting to feel human again."

"You still looked beautiful before, I meant that, but now… You look more like the woman I remember from the subway."

She pushed her fork around her plate. "You didn't even know her."

"Wanted to."

"Then why didn't you?" she questioned, a little sharper than she had intended. "I mean, I always knew you were watching me. At first I thought I was being tailed, then I thought you were just a creep-"

He huffed indignantly. "I was not creepy."

"But then we met that night at the bar and you were so kind to me even though you could have easily taken advantage," she continued, but his face sobered.

"I would never do that to anyone, especially not you."

"I know, Rick," she sighed, smoothing her hand over his on top of the table. "My point is that I remember that night – the important parts – and I remember feeling tempted to cheat on Josh," she confessed, lowering her eyes in shame. "I remember feeling nauseous the entire ride home for even entertaining the idea of wanting someone I hardly knew, but still hoping I would see you again on the subway."

She watched him swallow hard from beneath her lashes, the surprise written blatantly across his face, and she retracted her hand, positioned it under her chin instead.

"How long was this before the accident?"

Kate rubbed at her temple in thought, perusing the calendar in her mind.

"Days, I think. Maybe three days before? Josh had been in Haiti and he'd just gotten back the day of the accident, so we were all going to meet for dinner," she murmured.

The days leading up to the car crash had been blurry for a while, but just like with everything else, they had slowly trickled back in with little trouble and she could recall the days, hours, even minutes before the event that had ended her mother's life and stolen a piece of hers. She guessed that was why she hadn't recognized Rick immediately for who he had once been to her, even after weeks with him in the hospital. He had always felt familiar, but she had never been able to properly place him.

"You want to know why I loved to watch you?"

She lifted her eyes from her plate for confirmation and he put his fork down, abandoning his meal completely.

"I realize I didn't know you, but I just – you inspired me, Kate. I don't know what it was, but there was always something about you that made me want to know your story, to write it."

"You wrote about me?"

He shrugged, trying to play it off, but that look of embarrassment was back and coloring his cheeks. "Sometimes, when I was blocked with Derrick Storm. I would write about Nikki Heat for a while."

"Nikki Heat?" she repeated incredulously and he glanced back at her with a creased brow, questioning but ready to defend his character.

"It's a good name, a cop name."

"Castle, it's a stripper name."

"Well, I had intended to make her kinda slutty."

Kate playfully tossed her napkin at him, chuckled when it swiped across his face.

"Can I read it? What you have of the new book so far?"

The teasing glimmer left his eye and he turned back to his plate. "Maybe when it's completely finished. I don't like sharing my work when it's still in progress."

She nodded; she could respect that, but maybe in time, she could change it as well. Tease a chapter or two out of him.

"But I'll be the first to own a copy when you do finish?"

He smirked. "Of course, Beckett. I'll even autograph it for you."

As a doctor, and an all too short time as a father, he supposed his body was naturally attuned to awaken from sleep at even the slightest sound of distress or unnatural noise, so when he heard a thud followed by the distinctive sound of a cry from downstairs late that night, he was immediately up and bolting to his bedroom.

The door was cracked and when he silently nudged it open, he saw her huddled by the nightstand, wiping furiously at the tears dripping down her cheeks.

"Kate?"

He heard her curse and watched her shakily rise from the floor.

"Did I wake you up?" she murmured, sniffling quietly and self-consciously scraping back the tousled locks from her face.

"No," he lied. "I was doing some late night reading. Did you fall?"

She shrugged, turning her back on him to smooth a hand over the rumpled sheets.

"Did you have a nightmare, Kate?"

"Yeah, but it's fine, you can go back to bed, Castle."

"We can talk about it if-"

"I don't want to talk about it," she snapped suddenly, taking a deep breath a second later and glancing over her shoulder at him apologetically. "Please just go."

He nodded, still apprehensive to leave her, but knowing better than to push.

"I'll be upstairs if you need me."

She didn't answer, but he saw her climb back into the bed and tug the covers over her body while he was closing the door behind him and he held onto the hope that she would fall back to sleep without much trouble.

He stayed awake listening for half an hour, waiting patiently for any indication that she was still awake or being plagued by night terrors once more, but when he only encountered silence, he began to drift off against his will.

Rick woke sometime later in the night to a light pressure across his waist that slowly spread to his chest, a fluttering touch along his cheek encouraging his eyes to blink away the dissipating remains of sleep.

He wondered if he was dreaming when he realized the thing that had woken him was Kate Beckett, straddling his waist and planting kisses along his jaw.

"Kate?"

The nip to the sensitive skin behind his ear assured him this was most definitely not a dream.

"Kate, what-"

She captured his lips, the familiar sensation of her mouth sealing over his enough to quiet his questioning.

"I need you."

A/N: The following chapter will be rated M. If you aren't comfortable with that, please feel free to skip over it.

As always, thanks for reading.