A/N: Yeah, so I succumbed to the epilogue… (Was it ever in doubt?) And because I just don't like the number 2 (seriously, I really don't like 2 as a number. Weird, I know.) , I'm adding a third chapter to Notches in the Bedpost that is supposed to be a missing M-rated part from this chapter.

One month later

Whistling to himself, Rick can't help swinging his arms exuberantly as he walks down the block and turns down a sidestreet where his favourite little coffee place is located. His month of limited activity, annoying itches that he couldn't reach and staying in the car and missing all the action is finally over. He's just left the hospital after being given a clean bill of health – the stitches are gone and the wound has healed nicely, leaving just a little pink line behind.

She's already there, sitting at a table for two just in front of the window with her nose buried in a book – his book, to be exact. Heat Wave got finished relatively quickly in the end – not being able to join in many police escapades had left him with ample time to slowly type out the remainder of his novel with just one hand. Never again would he take his ability to touch type with both hands for granted. Witnessing his speedy progress, Beckett hadn't been shy in requested access to his advance copy.

"Hey," he greets as he sits down opposite her, grinning as she startles and drops his book. She's still yet to reply when he leans over the table, unrepentant, to kiss her cheek. Gesturing to her empty coffee cup, he asks, "Refill?"

She nods and waits until he's called over one of the passing baristas to order a Caramel Macchiato for himself and another vanilla syrup skim latte for her before mentioning his appointment. "How was it?"

"No sling," he replies, lifting his arm and waving at her. "Doc said it had healed up nice. Now I've just got a month of PT to look forward to."

Kate rolls her eyes at the slight whine he makes at the prospect of some hulked up man forcing him to do press-ups, or even worse, pilates. The expression turns into a soft smile as the barista returns with two plain white cups balanced on saucers and she catches sight of the heart swirled through the foamy top of her drink.

"Thank you," she murmurs, wrapping her fingers around the warm ceramic.

She's barely taken a sip when her phone rings and she sighs as the precinct flashes up as the caller.

"Beckett," she answers, looking at Castle and hoping this is just some sort of courtesy call and not a request to work on her day off. Two months ago getting called in on her day off wouldn't have bothered her – she'd have appreciated the chance to have something to do. Now, she bemoaned her busy job and the lack of time she had with Castle to try and figure out this thing going on with them.

Since he got stabbed, the two of them have spent far more time together outside of her job, raising eyebrows when for the first time she'd requested a few weekends of holiday time. But they are yet to attach any definitive terms to their tentative relationship.

"Detective," Montgomery replies. "I know it's your day off but Karpowski's down with flu. I need you in, sorry."

She holds in her groan and instead tells her Captain that she'll be in as soon as possible before hanging up. Downing as much of her latte, she shrugs her denim jacket back on and grabs her tote bag from the floor, sliding Castle's book inside.

She stands and walks around the table, heading for the front door only to turn back and ask, "You comin', Castle?"

"Right behind you." He scrambles up, only wincing slightly as he pushes away from the table using both of his arms, leaving both of their coffees cooling on the table with enough of the contents of his wallet to pay for them.

"You two living together now or something?" Esposito jokes as they exit the elevator together and walk to her desk, as perfectly in sync as a troop of soldiers on parade.

Castle expects an eye roll or some kind of humorous retort; anything but the words that leave Beckett's mouth.

"So what if we are, Espo?"

He coughs a little, drawing her attention enough to receive a concerned glance and a squeeze at the elbow. She's still flicking her eyes at him every few seconds when they've settled into their respective chairs at her desk.

"You know I was joking with Espo to get him off our backs, right? I'm not suggesting we… move in together," she says, only pausing for the smallest of moments.

"I know," he replies, his voice coming out squeakier than he'd like. God he wants that though, her living with him, permanently in his space, sleeping beside him every night rather than on the odd occasion she didn't make it back to her apartment after dropping round to check on him and his healing shoulder.

"So what's up?"

"Nothing, you just caught me by surprise," he assures her, knowing neither of them are ready to live together – Kate would probably end up killing him in under a day if they did after he started rifling through her things.

She nods understandingly before mumbling, "I'm still serious about you though. You know that, right?"

He grabs her hand and squeezes comfortingly. She may not have told him she loves him yet, but she's shown him.

Two months later

"Let yourself in," Castle whispers in Kate's ear, using the excuse of grabbing her empty Styrofoam cup to get close enough. He leaves his spare key just in front of her and walks away holding the two cups he intends to recycle, a jaunty whistle escaping him as he waits for the elevator.

He smiles at her when he steps into the metal box and turns, finding her eyes on him.

The two Ground Support Café cups go into the recycling bin by reception as he passes on his way out the door. He could hail a cab back to the loft, but it's a nice summer day – not too hot for once – so he thrusts his hands in his pockets and starts down the sidewalk, appreciating the early evening and the gentle breeze in his hair.

Despite walking, he still has time to change his clothes and get a start on dinner before he hears the sound of a key turning in the lock and knows she's there. For the first time, it's only going to be the two of them – his mother and Alexis having already left for the Hamptons to start their vacation.

She shuts the door quietly and stares at him for a moment, stirring something on the stove with the sleeves of his sweater pushed up to his elbows. She bites her lip at the sight and tries to calm down, but still somehow ends up crossing the room to stand behind him and wrap her arms around his waist.

Taking one of her hands, Rick squeezes first before raising it to his mouth and pressing his smile into her skin. She snorts quietly into his back at that before letting go and shifting around him so they're stood side by side. She surveys the kitchen worktop opposite her and the sprawling mess of various vegetable remains littering it, tutting internally, while he continues to face the stove and focus.

From nowhere, he procures a glass of wine, already three quarters full and offers it to her.

Despite knowing the drink is a diversionary tactic, a bribe of sorts, Kate takes it and wanders into the living room, sitting down to remove her boots and stretch her legs along the couch. Almost like he knows what she's going to ask, he remotely starts some music, allowing the relaxing strains of Sinatra to fill the silence around them.

Dinner is a soft affair, their socked feet playing footsie under the table.

"So, Tim cleared me for any and all physical activity today," Castle says eventually when they've finished the two little sponge desserts he'd whipped up, flicking his eyes at Kate catch her biting her lip and looking at him under her eyelashes.

"You gonna just sit there staring or are you gonna take me to bed, Castle?"

He swallows at her throaty tone and the blatant arousal she's looking at him with. How did they go from casual conversation over chocolate sponge to practically having sex with just their eyes?

Somehow when he stands, the movement is smooth and confident. His hand doesn't shake when he offers her it and helps her stand, gasping when she unexpectedly attaches her mouth to his and strokes her tongue inside, the both of them moaning at the taste of chocolate and wine.

"You said it, you know…"

He holds his breath, cursing himself for somehow verbalising that errant thought. Without even realising, he tightens his arms around her, trying to stop her from leaving.

"I know," she says, craning her neck to meet his eyes. "I meant it."

"Y-you meant it?"

She nods and smiles, spreading her fingers wider over his chest so she can push herself upward and meet his gaze properly.

"I love you."

A/N: So, the end. I hope you guys liked this short, little addition. I mainly wanted to clear up some things from the last few chapters and show that the two of them are in a committed relationship where they've forgiven one another. Anyways, thanks for reading!