A/N: With the separation, and there being no Castle this Monday night. I think some of us need to be reminded of the night that brought them together, and the night that started it all.

I know that this is a very well worn road taken by many a fanfiction writer. But I've never read one that explored what they were feeling, what they were thinking before hand, what was really going through their minds as they did the things they did. So I decided to give it a shot. Rated M for obvious reasons. I'm thinking of just making it a few chapters, probably ending on the morning after depending on the response I get. If people like it enough, I may turn it into an AU. Who knows. Let me know!

"Are you sure you'll be alright by yourself, I could come home." She says loudly enough to drown out her friends.

"No, Alexis. I got a thousand cable channels, I got my Xbox. You have fun!" He tells her. He remembers his graduation party. Or more accurately, doesn't remember much past actually arriving at it.

"And you promise you wont worry about me?" She asks, a tone that of a daughter not wanting her dad showing up to check on her.

"I will not worry about you until lunch time, tomorrow." He assures her. He spent the last eighteen years teaching her right from wrong and trusts her to either make right decisions, or make sure he never finds out about the bad ones.

Her friends shout, the line breaking up over the storm. "Okay, Dad. I love you!"

"I love you too." He says, not sure if she heard him over the howl of her friends crowding the car she's in.

He smiles, knowing his little girl is grown and couldn't be any more proud of her if he tried to be, but still knows that despite her objections, she will always be his little girl. He lifts up her tassel and gently hangs it on the lamp, smoothing it down. He admitted to himself a very long time ago that there wasn't much he could be about her growing up besides help guide her on whatever path she felt was right. He knows that today was only the start of her accomplishments, and he'll make sure he's there for all the rest of them also.

His phone lets out a ring and at first, he smiles, thinking that it's her again, making sure that he's really going to be fine on his own tonight. But when he looks down to the table, everything falls. His chest tightens, his heart pumps a shot of cold blood through him and the smile that he was hoping wouldn't fade at all tonight disappears.

Her picture is smiling up at him, and whereas it used to bring one to him, now it just feels like she's mocking him, telling him that she can be this way without him, almost like a jaded ex. He can't talk to her right now, and wouldn't know what to say if he could. He's said all he can to get her to come around. All he can think of and she still didn't listen. Ironic in some way since he's suppose to be a writer. He rejects the call and sets his phone back down.

He can't keep thinking about her. He needs to stop. The sooner he does, the sooner this dull ache will go away. It wasn't even his case. Turning on his smart board, he sees the same mocking picture of her that he just got rid of. He slowly walks over to it, lifting up a hand that feels heavy and taps it.

Wasted time, wasted effort, everything feels wasted. Work with no results, toil with no reward, labor with no fruit. He only did all this for her. So she could get the closure she wanted and move on... and move on with him. But it's all been for nothing. And he needs to stop. It's over and he's given up.

He lifts another heavy hand and slides his finger against the screen, moving the folder icon the few inches in needs to be deleted. A symbolic gesture, nothing more. A means to start the long process of purging everything of her from his life. The feelings, the want, the connection they had. They could have been something amazing, could have. But now, it seems like a story that didn't get an ending. An old tale told over the years that was always left up to the reader to figure out.

He lets out a long breath, relaxing himself and forcing her from his mind.

A knock on his door breaks him from his thoughts and gives him an excuse to focus on something completely different. In any other circumstances, he'd want to be alone right now. But he knows he needs to distract himself with whatever presents itself, even if it's something as menial as answering the door.

He quickly makes his way across the loft, forcing a small smile to greet whoever it is at the door and pulls it open.

But he feels himself harden and ice over when he does. She just can't stop, can she? He thinks about shutting the door without a word, even slamming it to make some kind of point. But if he knows her, it wouldn't stop her. He doesn't have it in him to yell at her to leave him alone, wishes he did though. "Beckett, what do you want?" He asks, not interested at all in her sure to be half-assed answer.

"You."

"What you did dishonors this city, and dishonors the badge! Not only are you off this investigation, I'm putting you both on administrative leave, effective immediately."

"Sir-"

"Don't you 'sir' me." Gates hisses. She thought that she would be given a chance to explain, but the cold, shameful, almost disdainful look Gates is shooting through her is unlike one she's ever been given. "You don't deserve to wear the uniform." She wants to argue with herself, for part of her to tell her that Gates is wrong. But she can't. Gates isn't right, but the things she told herself to justify all of this don't make sense anymore. Everything she's told herself to justify her actions over the years just don't make sense. She doesn't know what she's doing this for anymore. She's all but lost sight of her purpose. "Now hand over your badges and guns." Gates orders them, turning on a heel and planting one hand against her hip.

She hears Javi removing his badge from around his neck and unclipping his holster behind her then sees him set them on Gates's desk. But she's frozen. She can't even think of a reason to fight for this. This is suppose to be the most important thing in her life... isn't it? She's dedicated her life to this job, to a cause that she thought was making some kind of difference in the world. But she can't even muster up enough back bone to fight for it? "Detective Beckett?"

Kate decides to just give in and takes off her holster and sets it down next to Javi's, then reaches for her badge. But when she looks at it...

This badge has empowered her. Used to anyway. It used to drive her, but now she just doesn't care. She feels herself smile bitterly at the thought that she doesn't care about any of this. She knows she probably should, but she doesn't. "Keep it." She says, tossing her badge down onto her desk. She looks back up to Gates, confidence rising in her that she's doing the right thing as her now former Captain's expression goes blank. "I resign."

She turns around slowly, feels both sets of eyes on her, at least one of them waiting for her to take it back. But she just opens the door to Gates's office and goes over to her desk. She should feel heavy hearted, or maybe angry, furious even that Gates didn't see it her way or even let her explain. But she doesn't. After collecting her things in her bag and turning to walk out, she stops and turns back. She was hoping to feel something close to nostalgia, but all she feels is anger.

Anger at this job for letting it take so much from her. She turns back again and heads for the elevator, briefly meeting eyes with Javi as he walks out. He's stone faced as he's been all day. A thought shoots through her mind and she wonders if he'll come back. But it's gone when the elevator doors close behind her. Alone, not having to keep up appearances for anyone, she feels her heart start to beat harder.

She's let this job take everything from her. Her future used to be in this job, in this precinct. But she couldn't see it anymore. But worst... she let it take him. Her breath catches then. She let this job take him from her. He begged her, with tears in his eyes for her to stop. Prideful, she refused, and he walked away. For the first time in four years, he wasn't there, and it's all her fault.

It's all her fault.

She makes it back to her apartment in a daze, thoughts swirling around her mind so quickly she hasn't had time to formulate a single one clearly. She walks in the door, sets her bag down heavily, and knows she can't stay here. She doesn't bother to even walk back inside, change, grab a quick piece of fruit, she just turns back around and shuts the door.

It's dark, even darker with the storm overhead. People around her are starting to quicken their pace when a soft crack of thunder rolls over head, but she just start to slowly meander in the first direction her feet take her.

"For four years, I've been right here. Four years, just waiting for you to just open your eyes and see that I'm right here!" She feels her heart crack when his words ring in her head.

She thought she was doing the right thing. But now... now she sees that she was so wrapped up in her chase that she didn't once just stop. Stop and think about why he was really doing it. Why he was keeping all of it from her. She was so quick to blame him, so quick to put him in the wrong, to come up with reasons as to why he should have told her that now seem so ill-conceived, hair brained. He begged her to stop. He told her why he kept coming around all these years, and she's known. Even before the day he tackled her to the ground with a weight pressing into her so hard she couldn't respond. Never let herself admit it, own up to it.

He's always been right there. Right in front of her. Looking back on it all, he was always right there.

It isn't until another loud clap of thunder that she realizes that it just started pouring. She lets out another breath, can do nothing but let the rain soak her clothes. She keeps walking down the street, having no real direction until she sees through the thick curtain of water and realizes where she is. She sees them, the same swing set where she, in a matter of subtext, told him that she needed time, and that if he just waited, they could be together.

She walks through the mud and sits down in the same swing that she did that afternoon, looking down at the one he sat in. He loves her.

He loves her.

She repeats it to herself more times than she can count. She doesn't care that Maddox just got away. She doesn't care that the man behind her mom's murder is still out there. She doesn't care she just quit her job. She doesn't care she almost died. She doesn't feel something pulling her to pursue them anymore, doesn't feel guilt for wanting to let go of it all. She doesn't feel her heart being blocked off by it, she doesn't feel herself being held back by anything. She feels... free.

She looks up from his swing and knows. The only thing she wants... is him.

She can feel a smile curl onto her face at the realization. She only wants him, nothing else. Her ambitions have narrowed down to nothing else but him. She feels herself crying but knows it's pointless to wipe the tears away. She stands back up and walks through the mud, quicker, with purpose.

She walks down the street toward his loft with everything passing through her mind. All those little moments, and the times it was just staring her in the face, all the times it should have been the most obvious thing in the world. She was always happiest with him around. Always at her best with him around. And she let him just walk out the door. How could she just let him slip through her fingers. He's been there the whole time, waiting for her. Because he loves her. She breaths a sob when she thinks that. He loves her.

She stops, knowing what street she's on and looks up. His lights are on. She feels her blood rush through her veins, briefly making her aware of just how wet her clothes feel against her skin. She takes a step forward, but freezes when she sees a shadow slowly drift its way across the ceiling of his loft. It's only then that she remembers how much she hurt him, how much she has to own up to, how much she has to apologize for, how much she has to explain. She breaths slowly, shuttering on the way out and she quickly digs out her phone, the inside of her pocket turning inside out when she peels it out.

She slides her thumb across the screen, pressing the cold plastic of her phone against her ear then looking back up to the window. It rings twice, the shadow she sees on the ceiling still before the ringing stops and she hears his voice mail message. When she sees the shadow start drifting away, she lets her arm fall back to her side. She takes another breath, her heart still beating faster than it should be. But it feels right.

She quickly makes her way across the street and through the lobby, abruptly aware of just how soaked to the bone she is when she's out of the rain. But she doesn't care. She heads up the stairs and enters the hallway that leads to his door. Standing in front of it, she's scared. But she finally understands. She wants him. She wants to be with him. She doesn't care about anything else anymore. She raises her hand, pausing before knocking with more force than she realized she had in her, her heart beating rapidly in three different places.

She hears the knob turn, sees the door open, and then him. The look his smile falls into makes her feel so small. He's never looked at her like that. "Beckett, what do you want?"

Her breath gets deeper, her heart beats faster, and she knows. "You."

Her shaky legs take a large step forward, and he takes a step back when she reaches for him. His face is so warm, his jaw smooth, and she can already smell him, his eyes overtaken by surprise but still shine with the same bright blue she's fell into more times she can count. When their lips meet, it fires through her like the lightning bolt that just crashed outside. Everything on her curls and the breath she just took in is filled with more life than she's ever felt before. His lips are even softer than she told herself she remembers.

She feels another tear leak out onto her cheek and keeps her hands cradling his strong jaw. Guilt, pain, remorse, hatred for her actions, wishing she could take everything she did to him back all comes to surface in that tear. "I'm so sorry, Castle."

He breaths heavily, his warm breath fanning off her, warming her cold skin. "I'm so sorry." She whispers to him. Wants to say it as many times as she can. "I'm so sorry." She lets out the rest of her breath and pushes up to kiss him again. And in that second, when she feels his lips press against her and she feels his hands grasp her arms, she feels her heart explode. But is shaken out of it by the feeling of her being pulled off of him.

She opens her eyes and sees him looking down to her, the hard etched blank expression he greeted her with replaced with a soft arch in his brow, a soft worry conveyed in his eyes. "What happened?" He asks her softly, not taking his hands off her arms.

She looks down to the buttons on his shirt and hopes she can tell him in a way that will help him understand. "He got away, and I didn't care." She says just above a whisper and looks up to him, a smile lifting onto her lips that won't stop tingling. "I almost died." She tells him, remembering exactly what she was thinking out on that ledge. "And all I could think about was you." His hands feel strong on her arms, his mere presence inches in front of her making it feel like she hadn't just walked through a down pour. "I just want you."

She presses up, opening her lips to kiss him again, wanting more than anything to feel his lips on her again, but she feels him pulling back, retreating. She steps back down and looks into his eyes again, clouded with uncertainty... but only for an instant. His hands grip her tighter, his eyes darkening as a clash of thunder cracks behind him and she feels herself being pushed back.

Her body goes weightless in a slow wave as she opens her lips to him, feeling his forceful hands push her back. His lips enclose over hers and she feels their heat envelope her, what feels like a hell of a lot more than four years worth of feelings left hanging coming back in one fiery rush that won't go away. His soft lips move against hers, her hand softly cradling his jaw. He presses hard against her lips, his hands gripping so tight and seeming to move so fast, they're everywhere at once.

Her heart pounding inside her chest, her breath getting harder and ragged with every motion, she puts her hands anywhere they'll go, against his strong back, in his soft hair. Anywhere. He's demanding. Pressing her back against his door so hard, it feels as if he's only things keeping her from falling apart. He kisses his way, straying from her lips and she can't do anything but let him. He finds her neck, made acutely aware of how her pulse point is throbbing by his tongue lavishing it.

He kisses lower, breaths against her harder. She'd never thought it would be this amazing, surrendering to him. He kisses her chest, the cold rush of her he lets out through his nose rushing down her shirt. He stops, and given a moment that she didn't want to take, she knows what he sees.

Her skin is soft, warm. He can feel the blood course through her, getting faster and faster with each pass his tongue made against her. But now, looking down at that small, almost pin prick of skin in the center of her chest, in that moment, she looks so fragile. He feels her lips pull him back to her. It's the first kiss they've shared that he's had time to actually feel. She kisses him slowly, her soft lips completely in sync with his. He raises his hand, but stops.

Even though even about her is telling there are no more lines to cross, that she wants to be with him, that this is real, he feels freezes when his hand is just inches away from her scar. But he keeps kissing her. Slowly and as sensually as he can, reveling in how amazing it all feels. He's assured it's all real, that she's hear when he feels her softly grasp his hand and press it to her. He feels her heart beating and he knows that she's there.

He kisses her again and feels her lips drift off in a way that tells him she's smiling. She softly grazes her nose against his before her eyes looks back up to him.

She bits her lip and feels her reaching down, her fingers gently running down his arm until they grasp his hand. The look in her eyes is absolute. Certainty sparkling in the edges of her pupils. The last few minutes before she showed up seem a lifetime away. She's here. He's dreamed about this more times than he can count. But she's really here.

Walking past him, softly tugging him along with her, he's sure. She doesn't have any doubts.

She just wants him.