There's plenty of plot here if you kind of squint and tilt your head a little. I don't man - I just wanted some corny, "I love you so much I can't keep my hands off of you" nonsense and this chapter was due to be a fluffy filler and, well, instead of fluff you get this. Enjoy.

Also, I really am trying to be better at updating this! Thank you for your patience!

They had started in the extravagant day bed. Rick leant back against the mountain of cushions as Kate curled up to his side, her head rested on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as the sun dropped low in the sky and cast a burnt orange glow across the cityscape. Conversations of their loved ones - of Lanie and Esposito, of Alexis and Ashley, of work and writing and anything else they could think of - came to a halt as the night encroached, as the last traces of sunlight dipped beyond the horizon and Rick's roaming hands slipped beneath the soft cotton of her shirt to lazily trace patterns along the ridges of Kate's spine.

His touch warmed her skin until comfort turned into searing heat, blazing like wildfire against her skin and their kisses - soft and exploratory, at first - became frenzied, desperate. The firm press of his mouth to hers stole the breath from her lungs and the brush of his tongue against hers had the rest of the world fading to black as she melted against him. Seconds - or minutes, or hours - had passed before she gathered just enough of sense to whisper a breathless command to him: take me to bed.

A command to which Rick happily obliged. The journey to her apartment was torturously slow, but they made it. Barely. As they pushed through her door, Rick looked at the staircase and instantly deemed it an impossible feat, one he wouldn't bother to waste time on.

He cupped her face with his hands and gave her a wolfish smile as he backed her up. As soon as her back pressed against the wall, his mouth was on her; greedy, voracious, insatiable. It wasn't enough, was never enough. He needed more, needed all of her: to taste and to touch. He needed to inhale the sweet scent of her perfume; craved it in the same way his lungs craved oxygen. He needed to see her with the flushed cheeks, half-lidded eyes and sated smile he loved so much. He needed to hear her say his name, as if it's the only word her mind is capable of forming. And, good God, he needed those things now - or he might combust.

He trailed his mouth down her neck and grazed his teeth over her pulse, fluttering at the bottom of her throat, as he pawed at her clothes. He needed to remove the too many barriers between his body and hers. He peeled himself away from her, just enough to strip her bare, and then he was on her again: his mouth on hers; every inch of his body pressing her harder against the wall.

That empty wall that he'd caught her staring at too many times, as if she had been trying to visualise her favourite artwork there, only to see it turn to flames. Or being torn to pieces before her eyes. She never did find out exactly what had happened to it. Rick knew that, deep down, she didn't want to know, she didn't want to think about someone she had once loved so deeply doing something for no reason other than to hurt her. But the emptiness of that wall had served as an unrelenting reminder of that.

The wall wouldn't remain empty for long, though. She had said so, just hours ago. As soon as The Masterpiece (as she had dubbed it) was dry, she planned to hang it in this exact spot. A constant reminder of something much better: them.

The memory of her drawing their initials in the wet paint flashed in his mind and electrified the desire that surged through him, his need for her burning dangerously hot. He loved her. He loved her so much that sometimes it actually felt like his heart would burst. She was his everything, his happy ending, his forever. And he would happily spend the rest of his days proving that to her.

He grabbed her thighs and lifted her. Her legs wrapped around his waist and he ground himself against her, a needy moan vibrated against his mouth. Her hands trembled as they fumbled with his belt and pushed at the waistband of his pants. They had barely shifted down his thighs before she took him in her hands and lined him up with her.

He looked into her eyes and she nodded once, granting him permission. She was ready, and she needed him just as desperately as he needed her.

He slid home, then stopped to revel in the feel of her: the way her thighs gripped tighter around his waist; the way she gasped, then breathed out a satisfied plea for more. As always, he happily obliged. He thrust into her, again and again, setting a punishing pace until he felt her tense, felt her muscles clamping down around him, ready for release.

"Please," she pleaded, breathlessly. "Please, Rick."

He didn't know what she was asking for, but it didn't matter. She could ask him for the stars and he'd deliver them on a silver platter for her. He'd bring the moon, too, just for good measure.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, buried her face in his neck as she cried out and came undone. He followed, just a moment after, with a guttural grunt. Sparks of white burst behind his eyes and he had to press his palm to the wall to keep them both from tumbling to the ground. She was undoubtedly crushed between his weight and the wall but if she was bothered by that, she didn't let on. She kept her arms tight around his shoulders and her face hidden in the curve of his neck, each short puff of breath cooling his sweat-slicked skin.

They stayed that way until their breath steadied and she lowered her legs to the ground.

In the silence, in the stillness, his panic set in.

She was already in her head again - he could feel the tension in her body - her voice lost to the thoughts she wouldn't say out loud, and their short history together had already proved that that never ended well for him.

He placed his hands on her hips, held her still as he pulled back to look at her. Her gaze dropped to the floor but he curled his finger under her chin, forced her to look at him.

"Are you okay?" he asked cautiously. She smiled softly, nodded just once before leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to his lips. A wordless reassurance, but he needed the words. "Kate-"

"I don't want you to lie."

Rick's eyes narrowed as he studied her face, looking for any hint as to what she was talking about. "I wouldn't lie to you."

"But you'd lie for me," she clarified.

Ah, Terri Cohen.

"Really?" he asked, arching a brow. "You're thinking about that right now?"

Her lips curved into a slight smile and she shook her head. "Not exactly."

But then she averted her eyes, as if embarrassed, and the flush of her cheeks intensified.

She was embarrassed.

"What were you thinking about, then?" he asked, curiosity piqued. His hands ghosted down her sides, over her hips and back up her spine. Goosebumps peppered her skin, chasing his touch, and God that need within him was building up again. "What were you thinking about?" he repeated in a whisper.

Her eyes fluttered, almost fully closing before she forced herself to focus on him.

"How badly I want you to be mine," she said breathlessly. "Only mine."

He had thought this conversation would be unnecessary. He had thought it had been painfully obvious, from that very first encounter, that he was exclusively hers. Apparently, he hadn't made it clear enough.

He dipped his head, brushed his mouth across the sensitive skin of her neck, just below her ear. "I am yours," he promised.

"Then I was thinking about how much I hate the thought of Terri Cohen, of anyone, flirting with you and thinking that they could have you."

She had tried to keep her voice light, tried to inject the words with humour, but Rick saw right through her. He could see it in her eyes. He wasn't sure exactly what it was - insecurity, jealousy, possessiveness - but it was unmistakably there and he couldn't fight the urge to correct her line of thought. He pulled back, looked deep into her eyes.

"I'd never let anyone think they could have me, Kate. Regardless of whether or not we go public with this-"

"I want to," she blurted. After a heartbeat, she continued, "I keep telling myself that I'm not going to hold back anymore, that I'm ready to dive into this with you. I don't want to deny this anymore and I don't want you to, either."

Another heartbeat. And then a smile.

"Are you sure?"

But she sounded sure, she looked sure.

She nodded. "If we're going to be together then I have to come to terms with the fact that you're famous."

Even just hearing her say the word aloud felt surreal. Famous. Sure, he had learned to live with the crowd and the cameras, the larger than life persona that was Richard Castle. But when he was with her he had never felt like that person. With her, he was just Rick.

"I know that comes with..." Her voice trailed off as she tried to find the words.

"Baggage?" he offered, with a self-deprecating smile. She huffed out a laugh, but shook her head. "Complications," he said.

"A spotlight," she finally suggested, ignoring his own attempts to finish her thought. "I like my privacy. And the idea of people knowing my business is... intimidating. But I don't want us to be some big secret," she admitted.

Rick's smile beamed. "I don't want us to be a secret either," he told her, his relief so evident in his voice. Hesitation crept in, though. "But-"

"I can handle it." She cut him off, wouldn't let him voice the concerns she undoubtedly shared. "Whatever comes next: I can handle it." She traced her trembling fingertips along his cheek, then pressed a quick, adoring kiss to his lips. "I love you, Rick," she whispered against the corner of his mouth.

And with those few, simple words, his restraint dissipated and his mouth crashed over hers. He'd known, even without her sleepy confession, that she loved him. She'd shown it in so many little ways. It was in her touch, in her smile, in the way she cared for Alexis and the way she'd made space for him in her home. In the weeks since she'd allowed herself to fully let him in, he hadn't doubted her feelings for him once.

Still, hearing the words filled him with a joy he'd never be able to put into words.

"Say it again," he quietly requested and he felt her smile grow as her lips stayed pressed to his.

"I love you," she whispered between kisses.

He loved her, too. And he poured every ounce of that love into his kiss.

They did, eventually, find their way to her bed; their mess on the rooftop all but forgotten, the trail of clothes that littered her apartment a problem for them to deal with later. For now, nothing mattered but them.

Kate woke feeling surprisingly well-rested considering how little sleep she and Rick actually got last night.

Last night...

She let out a dreamy sigh and rolled over to find Rick's side of the bed cold and empty, confirming her suspicions that the shuffling she could hear downstairs wasn't an intruder. Knowing Rick, he was probably scrounging together something that could pass as breakfast (she really needed to go grocery shopping). He seemed to really enjoy taking care of her. And she'd be lying if she said there wasn't a part of her that really enjoyed being cared for in a way that didn't make her feel like a burden.

After pulling herself from the comfort of bed, she grabbed her robe and headed down the stairs. She was only a few steps down when the scents wafted up. Her stomach grumbled loudly and her mouth began to water. She peeked over the hand railing, desperate to see what could possibly be creating such a delicious smell.

Rick was so focussed on whatever he was creating he hadn't even noticed her yet.

"Where'd you get all this?" she asked as she plodded toward him.

He looked up from the dish he'd just plated up. "Went to the convenience store to grab a few things." Then he smiled proudly. "I used my key to get back in."

At some point last night - between the sex and the I love you's and all the late night talking - she had gifted Rick the key that'd been burning a hole in her bedside table all these weeks. She had joked that it was so he wouldn't have to involve her father the next time he wanted to surprise her with one of the most romantic nights of her life but she could tell from the look in his eyes and the way he thanked her so sincerely that he knew it was much more than that.

I'm ready to dive into this with you. That's what she had said and this was an important step. For both of them.

Kate walked around the kitchen counter, wrapped her arms around Rick's waist and leant her head on his shoulder.

"Giving you that key might be the best decision I've ever made" she laughed. "This smells amazing."

Rick's arm snaked around her waist and he pulled her closer, turning his head to give her a quick kiss. "It won't take long. Do you want to shower while I finish it?"

She couldn't fault his plan: shower, eat, then slowly start to get ready for work. She wasn't due to go into the precinct until later in the morning and the idea of spending the next few hours lazing around with Rick did sound awfully appealing. But then Rick smoothed his hand up her spine, pulling her body closer to his. The act itself was innocent - he always wanted her close, as close as physically possible - but it stirred those butterflies that seemed to have taken up permanent residence within her.

"Or..." she drawled, bringing her hand up to his cheek. She leant in and kissed him, teasingly nipping at his bottom lip. His moan only encouraged her to deepen the kiss and before she knew it, his hands were in her hair, his tongue pressing against hers. "You could join me," she said a little breathlessly when they finally parted.

He didn't even try to resist. Without tearing his eyes from her, he reached out and turned off the burner.

"You know, I always find it's best to let this sit for a while before eating," he explained, as if she cared for his justifications.

Despite how hungry she had been, she couldn't care less about breakfast right now: she just wanted him.

Rick grabbed her, pulled her in for another kiss. This time, there was no pretence, no hiding the need that surged between them. He dipped, wrapped an arm behind her thighs and lifted her. Her legs wrapped instinctively around his hips as he carried her toward the bathroom. By the time he lowered her onto the vanity, the belt around her robe had loosened and it took just the slightest tug from Rick to unravel the knot. His eyes darkened as they drifted lower, raking over her exposed skin as if it were the first time he'd ever seen her.

Kate watched as Rick mustered the strength to step away from her. He started the shower and quickly undressed himself before holding his hand under the stream of water to check the temperature.

"Ready?" he asked her when he stepped back in between her legs.

He held her waist as she slipped off the edge of the vanity, watched intensely as she shrugged the soft material of her robe from her shoulders and let it fall to the ground before she took his hand and they stepped into the shower together.

The water that sluiced over them felt tepid in comparison to the heat that radiated from Rick's body as he crowded her and slanted his mouth over hers and kissed her fiercely. He used his grip of her waist to turn her, and the weight of his body to move her closer to the wall. His fingers wrapped gently around her wrists, then he moved her hands to the cold, tile wall in front of them and held them in place with one of his own while the other ghosted down her side. Goosebumps erupted across her body and he soothed the tingling sensation under her skin with the warm press of his mouth to her shoulder.

Each point of contact was painfully delicate; she needed more.

She arched her back, pushed her hips back against his.

Rick chuckled, a deep rumble in his throat. "You're so impatient."

So needy...

It was pathetic, really, just how much she needed his touch. But she couldn't bring herself to care, not when he so willingly gave her everything she needed.

He moved closer, his body flush against her back pressing her against the cold tiles, and his grip around her wrists tightened. His other hand slipped from her hip - fingertips tracing along her abs, her navel, down her thighs - and a shiver ran down her spine when he finally made his way to where she needed him most. One touch was all he needed to know that she was ready for him. He wasted no time, reaching down between their bodies and guiding himself inside of her.

She gasped when he filled her and Rick buried his face in the curve of her neck, buying himself a short moment to steady his own breath.

"Do you know how much I love that sound?" he whispered. "Do you know what it does to me?"

Good God, he had her stomach doing summersaults.

His began to move and his hands slipped across her wet skin, kneading and massaging her hips and breasts. But his question swirled in the forefront of her mind; do you know what it does to me?

"Tell me."

The words were a quiet plea, she wasn't sure he'd even heard her but, after a long moment, he spoke again.

"It makes me want to spoil you," he said, his ragged breath hot against the back of her neck. "Give you everything you could ever want. Makes me want to make you mine. Again and again."

He moved his hips as if resisting her was never an option, ghosted his hands over her as if he needed to touch every inch of her body. The brush of his lips against her skin as he spoke to her had her teetering close to the edge already.

"I am yours."

Rick sucked in a sharp breath, as if her commitment still took him by surprise and a small part of her hated that, hated that her insecurities had leached into his subconscious.

"I am yours," she repeated firmly, leaving no room for doubt. "And you're mine. Always."

He echoed her sentiment - always - and then trailed hot kisses from her neck to her jaw, to her cheek and finally to her mouth. He could have drawn her pleasure out, made this state of bliss last for what felt like a lifetime, but he was also insanely good at quick and incredibly hot.

She sucked in a shattered breath as shockwaves gripped her body and her knees buckled. She pawed at the wall to try and keep herself upright but it was Rick's arm curled at her waist that kept her steady as he followed her over the edge and spilled into her. His chest pushed against her back with each heavy breath he took until his entire body relaxed against hers.

"You start saying things like I'm yours and always, and I'm bound to do something real stupid like rush out and buy you a ring."

Kate laughed, surprising herself just as much as she surprised Rick. A comment like that should have her running for the hills, not have her heart near-bursting at the seams. But he was joking - of course he was joking - and she wasn't going to let herself overreact and ruin an another wise perfect morning.

So, she turned around so that she faced him, looked up into his beautiful blue eyes and jokingly asked, "A nice, big shiny one?"

Rick's shoulders dropped as he relaxed and his smile grew tenfold.

"Anything you want," he promised her before kissing her, slow and tender.

After a long moment of gentle touches and adoring kisses Rick pulled Kate out of the stream of water, picked up her loofah and began to gently scrub her skin. He swirled the gourd over her stomach, her chest, her shoulders; watched as the shower gel painted her in a thick lather.

"Why do you do this?" she asked, her voice quiet and curious.

"Do what?"

"Clean me? I'm more than capable."

He smiled. "I know you're capable. I just like to do it." Then he looked into her eyes, amusement quickly replaced with a flash of concern. "Does it bother you?"

"I wouldn't be letting you do it if it bothered me," she stated. "I was just curious." And then she shrugged and looked away, suddenly self-conscious. "I guess I'm just used to the sweet gestures only happening before the sex."

She tried to laugh off the confession, but Rick stopped his movements and she could see his jaw clench as if he was mad.

Of course he'd get mad. How foolish of her to bring up other men during such a sweet, intimate moment with him. She didn't know what she had been thinking. But, before she could apologise, Rick pushed on her gently, moving her back under the stream of water to rinse the soap from her body.

He reached up and peeled away a wet lock of hair that had clung to her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. "I like to touch you," he admitted quietly. "And not just because I want something from you. I find it... comforting, I guess." He chuckled to himself. "I don't know, maybe I'm scared that you're just some figment of my imagination or something."

She wanted to say something, to reassure him that she was real and she was here and she wasn't going anywhere, but she couldn't find her voice. It was all too much, too overwhelming to be allowing herself to feel so much for this man. So, instead of saying something that would quite possibly be the wrong thing, she reached for his bottle of body wash and began to cleanse him, just as he did for her.