I love this episode. So very much. I mean, Johnny Vong, people. Johnny Vong.

Instead of the same Thank You Cartographical I've been doing since the beginning, this chapter, I am sending my editor/muse a gift. Carto, I hereby give you Johnny Vong's boat. You are the wind beneath my wings.

Chapter 13: 2x13, Sucker Punch

I've gotten used to you pulling my pigtails.

She presses the buzzer and takes a deep breath. The door opens; Castle blinks. "Hey." He obviously wasn't expecting her.

"Hey."

"Come in." He sets his hand gently on her back, guiding her inside, and Kate finds herself struck by how homey his place is, for all it's so luxurious. She doesn't live here. But right now it's far more inviting than her quiet little apartment.

"Thank you."

Martha pulls her close, and Kate finds herself choking up a little. Martha is crazy and loud and all over the place. But she's a mom. She hugs like a mom. And Kate hadn't realized, till just now, how much she missed just being hugged.

"Hang in there, kiddo."

"Thank you, Martha." Kate loves this bizarre little family.

Martha beams. "Leftovers in the fridge; upstairs if you need us."

She grabs Alexis and disappears, leaving Kate with a Castle who seems anxious. Like he's desperate to say exactly the right thing, and he's trying to figure out what it is.

Kate takes a breath, tries to muster up her nerve, but he speaks before she can. "I will do anything that you need. Including nothing, if that's what you want."

She swallows, manages to meet his gaze without faltering. He's so concerned, but he has faith in her. She knows what she wants to say. "What I want is to find my mother's killer."

His eyes flash in delight, and she thinks she catches a hint of pride in his smile. He knows how hard this is for her. He knows what it's cost her. And he wants to help. "We need to break Johnny Vong."

"So let's break him."

Castle nods, his whole posture poised with the excitement he always gets when they're onto something. It's comforting. She hadn't realized how much she's come to depend on it. "He's in holding right now, right?"

She nods. "He's scheduled to be transferred tomorrow. We'll call the DA as soon as the office opens in the morning, make sure we get to him first." She grins. A plan. They have a plan. She can work with this. Castle beams at her.

She's noticing a different manner in him tonight. He's gentler than usual. Careful. Kind. He's trying to do this right. It makes something warm coil in her chest, something she can't quite name. Something she hasn't felt in a long time.

There's a moment, and then he shakes his head. "I'm so sorry, I'm terrible. Here – let me – "

She's not exactly sure why she's here to begin with, and she didn't really intend to stay. But she finds herself peeling off her gloves, letting him pull her coat off. She holds her elbow, watching him set her coat down before turning back to her. "Are you hungry? Um, like Mother said, we've got leftovers in the fridge. And other things."

"No, thanks, I'm not really hungry."

"Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Wine? Uh, hot chocolate? Water? Beer?"

She doesn't really want anything, but he looks so eager to do something, anything… "Tea would be great, thanks."

"Sure."

She follows him to the kitchen, leaning on the island as he fills up the tea kettle and reaches into a cupboard. "Um, do you want chai, Earl Grey, raspberry, this weird green tea Mother swears is really healthy but it kind of smells like pond scum, or mint?"

"Surprise me."

"Pond scum it is." She shoots him a look and takes a few steps towards the stove, but then she relaxes as she sees him reaching for the mint instead. There's a long pause as he rummages through the box, digs out two packets of tea, and pulls out two cups.

"I talked to my dad."

Castle's eyes get wide, but he just nods. He's never met her dad. Kate's genuinely a little curious as to how the two of them would get along. She's relatively sure her dad would love Castle. And she's also relatively sure Castle would be terrified of her dad. Mr. B. was the most feared dad at her high school. He hasn't lost his charm.

"He told me that he thought Mom would have wanted it. Would have wanted me to keep going." Kate folds her arms, leans back against the cabinets. "She was like that. Stubborn."

"I can imagine," he smiles.

She flashes him a half-hearted look, because she knows he's delicately commenting on her own stubbornness. But it's not like he's really wrong. "He, um – it was good to talk to him."

"I'm glad," Castle says, carefully adjusting the stove burner. "I'm glad it helped."

"It did, but – " she takes a deep breath. Her fingers curl around the edge of the counter. "I just – I didn't want him to worry. A part of me is always afraid that if it gets bad – if it's like last time – "

Her voice breaks and she looks down, blinking. But she feels a gentle hand on her arm. She glances up through stinging eyes, and Castle is looking at her, his face taut with worry. Kate can feel her throat tightening. Because she has to keep it together for her dad, but she can't deny the fact that she's scared. She's got a thousand fears and no guarantees that she won't lose herself in this again. And Castle understands that.

"Kate – I just – I want you to know. Anything you need. Anytime. Even if it's the middle of the night. If there's anything I can do – "

She swallows. Oh, Castle. He's watching her with those big sad blue eyes, and his face is so warm and concerned, his hand on her arm so very tender, so unassuming. There's a lump in her throat, just a little one that won't go away, and she tries to slow her breathing, but her heart is fluttering. Because he's being kind. He's giving her what she needs.

He's messed up in the past, but right now, Rick Castle is exactly what she needs.

So without letting herself think about it, she leans in, closes the distance between them. His other hand comes to her shoulder, gently tracing circles. Kate shuts her eyes briefly, drinking in the warmth of his breath on her face, just inches away. She settles one hand on his chest, above his heart. He swallows. She can tell he's not sure how to respond, whether or not to say something. She's not usually like this.

She stretches on her toes to reach his level and kisses the corner of his mouth very gently. He tenses, obviously surprised, but he doesn't move to stop her.

It started as a simple, innocuous gesture – just a way to express how grateful she is – but as she's about to step back and let the moment go, suddenly it's not enough. Her chest tightens. She doesn't want to let go. She needs more.

The half-kiss ends, but she stays, her face hovering near his. Her hand is pressed to his chest, and she can feel the hitch in his breath, the taut muscles beneath her fingertips. Her eyes flutter shut for a moment as she breathes, feels his warmth washing over her skin.

"Kate?"

His voice is soft, low. She looks up. His gaze is hesitant and wondering, his blue eyes wide with surprise. He wasn't expecting this.

Instead of pulling away, she swipes her thumb over his bottom lip, ignoring his sharp intake of breath, and kisses him on the mouth.

Her mind goes blissfully blank. She doesn't register anything but the soft pressure of his mouth and the warmth of his skin. She feels his hand come to her face, gently cupping her jaw, his thumb tracing lightly over her cheekbone. He's nervous. She can feel it. But he kisses her back, his mouth soft and pliant and giving against hers.

She steals one last, quick kiss before letting go. But he doesn't pull away. He stays, his forehead pressed against hers, his hand on her face gently tracing the line of her cheek.

"Hey." There's wonder in his voice, but some amusement too. His eyes are crinkled and warm as he looks down at her. She puts a hand to her mouth. Oh, God. What did she just do?

The tight panic in her chest starts to dissolve as his hand slides over her back, pulling her into his chest, and she lets him. Her cheek rests against his shoulder and she shuts her eyes. And she can't help but laugh at herself a little. She's stripped off her clothes to save him from Russian mobsters, yet she's blushing at doing something as domestic as kissing him in his own kitchen. But he rubs her back gently, pressing his lips to her hair, and it seems like he doesn't mind.

Eventually the tea kettle whistles merrily, and she reluctantly untangles herself from his arms. He gives really, really good hugs.

He points her towards the couch and follows with two cups of tea. She accepts hers gratefully, watching as he sits beside her. She has to give him credit: he doesn't lead off with How are you? or So, you kissed me just now... He knows her too well for that. She's not really sure how to deal with direct right now.

Instead, he turns on the TV, and they sink back into the couch. He flips through channels until he finds an Ancient Aliens marathon on the History channel, and he spends the next few hours trying very hard to convince her that mythology is about nuclear space battles, human DNA is 80% alien, and the dinosaurs just might be gone simply because the aliens stole them all.

"Beckett. Kate. Wake up, sleepyhead."

She blinks awake, dazed, to find Castle rubbing her back gently, smiling. They're still on his couch, and she's leaning into his side, her head lolling on his shoulder. "Did we – "

"Dozed off. It's just after two."

"Mmm." She rubs her face, trying to wake up and convince her body to move. She's too comfortable. Castle makes a good pillow. "I should go."

"Why don't you stay? It's late, you're tired. We've got an extra room. I'll take you back to your place in the morning."

The unmasked tenderness in his look takes her breath away. He's studiously not saying it, but she can hear it anyway: I don't want you to be alone.

No thanks is on the tip of her tongue, but there's something about the quiet plea in his voice and the affection in his gaze (and, just maybe, the way his lips felt on hers) that convinces her to accept his offer.

He sends her upstairs. Inside the guest room, she sits on the bed, flicking on the lamp, and lets out a shaky sigh. Her life is so screwed up. So utterly screwed up.

She pulls off her boots, setting them beside the bed, and reaches for the little alarm clock on the bedside table. There's a tap at the door. "Come in."

Castle pokes his head in, holds up a little bundle of clothes. "Here. I figured you'd want something to sleep in." He hands her a t-shirt and pajama pants. A Batman t-shirt and Snoopy pajama pants. She can't help but laugh.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Anything else you need?"

She shakes her head. He's done everything. "I'm fine."

"Okay. I'll have coffee ready in the morning," he assures her. "And you know where my room is, if you need something."

"I'm fine, Castle."

He smiles. "I know."

She thinks he's leaving, but he hesitates for a moment, his eyes flicking back to her with a question. She's about to ask if there's something else, but he crosses back to the bed where she's sitting and stoops to her level. He tips her chin up, just barely brushing his lips over hers in a delicate kiss before pulling away. Heat floods her cheeks, a blush she can't stop. This man can utterly undo her.

"Sweet dreams, Kate."

"Good night." She takes a long breath as he heads for the door. "Castle?"

He glances back. "Yeah?"

"Thank you." It's not enough – not nearly enough – but it's all she has right now.

And from the soft look in his eyes, the way he's looking at her – he understands.

"You're always welcome, Kate." He leaves, shutting the door behind him.

She falls asleep in a comfortable bed, in soft, worn clothes that smell like him, with a smile she can't get rid of.