No, your eyes do not deceive you.
Yes, I think I did take quite long enough to post this.
If you haven't read To Love or And Lose, you might be a bit confused.
Thank you to IMW, for her endless patience with both me and this chapter.
And to Susan. I got your card and…everything. It was really really really sweet. Thank you.

…

"It's been three weeks."

She says it with just enough spite, just enough anger, just enough emotion. He could hear the raw edge of despair she tried to hide with fierce determination. He sighed, softly, resting his head on the door frame in defeat. Kate pushed past him, ignoring his silent reply.

"By all means," Rick said, dryly, waving his arm in a welcoming gesture. "Come in." She stood in the kitchen and absorbed the state of the loft.

The couch was covered in pillows and blankets, all of which she recognized as belonging on his bed. It was her turn to sigh, as she ran her fingers through her hair. Her eyes fell closed as she mentally reigned in her emotions.

She didn't know when she'd stopped caring about consequence. Maybe it had been on the drive over. Maybe it had been a week and a half ago. Hell, perhaps it was during that weekend at her father's house.

She took a deep breath and opened her eyes before turning around to find him right behind her.

"24 days," he corrected, his tone low. His eyes flickered up, gauging her reaction, afraid of what he might see. Pain clouded her green eyes, and he found himself looking away again. "I just needed-"

"Time," she finished, irritation in her voice. "I know. I expected that- hell, if you hadn't asked for it, I would have ordered you to take a break from work. But three weeks, Rick?"

"Following you around is selfish of me, Kate," he said, suddenly, surprising her right out of her tangent. He seemed to be looking for his next words as if he were expecting to find them in her eyes. "It's no longer about the books and it sure as hell isn't about research."

His boldness read like a challenge, but it was a challenge from which she wouldn't back down. If he wanted to have this conversation now, they would.

"I know," she confessed. "We both have for a long time." She didn't need to ask what changed. Everything had changed. She wasn't so naïve as to ignore that.

"I need to think about what's best for my family," he told her, in a voice she'd never heard from him.

"You say that like you've made up your mind."

"Maybe I have."

"Then maybe it's my turn to be selfish."

There was a long, heavy pause while they both processed this. His words had hurt her and hers had shocked him, yet both were far from ready to admit he was right.

"What do you want me to say?" His voice was barely a whisper as she closed in on him. He felt himself gravitating towards her, and she to him, craving the closeness they'd been denying themselves.

"Tell me you missed me," she murmured, her breath ghosting over his cheek as she spoke the words. She felt his nose against her neck, in her hair, and she leaned into his touch almost instinctively. Her hands traveled the broad span of his t-shirt clad shoulders, before slipping one under his arm to his back. The other slid into his hair, holding him against her. She felt his arms encircle her, one winding around her waist and the other stretching up towards her shoulder. For a second she thought her feet might leave the ground.

"I miss you," he mumbled into her hair, as she released a heavy breath she'd had no idea she was holding. For her part, Kate nuzzled her face into his neck, relishing the closeness.

"Where is Alexis?" She couldn't tell if he'd stiffened or she'd only imagined it, but nevertheless he continued to hug her.

"She's at the…a doctor's appointment." She understood the meaning in his vague wording, so instead of prying further, she ran her hand up and down his back in soothing patterns.

"You aren't with her," she stated, after another long moment.

"We thought it'd be better if we didn't make it a big…thing."

She almost chuckled at his diction. "You know you sure use a lot of dead words for a writer."

"A lot?"

"Touché," she murmured, relieved for the reprieve. "And you?" She asked, solemn once again. "Are you seeing someone?" Upon feeling his nod, she visibly relaxed in his arms. Still, she held on tight. "You've been sleeping on the couch."

It was less of a question and more of an observable fact that demanded an explanation.

After a long pause of consideration: "The bed is so big," And empty without you. "And Alexis won't let me sleep on her bedroom floor." Anymore. Everything he didn't say reverberated around in her mind far louder than anything he had.

"Rick, I-" her hands found the front of his broad chest and she suddenly became quite fascinated by the threads of the forest green t-shirt he was wearing. She paused, mentally re-routing. "You were there for me when I thought things just couldn't get worse."

She was thinking of the hours she spent pouring over his words, of escaping from the reality of her mother's death, her father's alcoholism, everything. He was thinking of that weekend in Saratoga, of the photograph, the first names, the hand-holding.

For once they're on the same page, but in different books.

"Let me be there for you," she whispered.

"You were."

"So caring stops once everything is okay?"

"You don't need all of this-" he began, but she hardly let him finish.

"Is that what this big disconnect is all about? Some sort of misplaced attempt to protect me from something?" Although her words were dripping with venom, her eyes showed him everything else. He opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off before he could speak.

"Timing has never been our strong suit, has it?" Her eyes softened and her voice was apologetic-almost mournful. Her hand fell to rest on his chest. "You feel guilty."

Memories of that torturous week flashed through his mind:

Kate grasping his hand.
Hugging him in bed.
Holding him together when hope wasn't enough.

Alexis had been in the hands of a killer, and while he'd been in the hands of a woman who had refused to let him lose himself.

He had spent the past three weeks wallowing in self-blame and depression, and she'd interrupted him before he was quite finished. If only he hadn't followed Kate around every day, if only he hadn't let Alexis go to Paige's house that night, if only he'd tried harder to protect his family. If only.

They were dangerous words and they had him stuck in a tailspin.

"I blame myself," she stated, suddenly, her eyes apologetic. His gaze darted back up to hers, and she was finally met with those clear blue eyes.

"For what?" He asked, unable to stop the question. "For making me eat and sleep?"

She swallowed, hard, then continued: "I- I overstepped a lot of our boundaries."

"I'm glad you did," he admitted, his words rolling out without permission. "I think that's what's eating at me. If you hadn't, I-" his voice cracked, and she put her hand over his mouth, gently.

"I know," she said, simply. "If I could do it all over again, I wouldn't do a damn thing differently."

He felt the countertop against his back. There was nowhere to go.

"Something's gotta give," she murmured, her nose brushing his. A long moment passed where neither of them moved- Rick scarcely breathed. "Touch me."

She felt his heart beating steadily under her hands as she rested them against his chest, and soon his fingers were gripping her waist. Hands ghosted her hips, inching under her hoodie, underneath her tank top, until he was caressing the skin of her lower back. When she failed to pull away, he covered her mouth with his own.

Her fingers threaded through his hair, her elbows resting on his shoulders as she pressed her body as close to his as she could, drinking him in. She arched into him, her chest crushed against his, their shirts creating friction, eliciting an uninhibited moan.

When he broke away, seconds or hours later, she wasn't sure, he didn't let her stray far, his nose settling against hers, his breath washing over her swollen mouth. Involuntarily, she shivered.

He wanted to say so many things, ask so many things. He wanted to kiss her again. Instead he asked, "Are you cold?"

"No." She whispered the word against his skin.

Rick measured time in heartbeats and labored breaths.

"What do you want, Kate?" he asked, afraid the silence might eat them whole. Afraid he might run out of time. These things scared him almost as much as her answer. Seven heartbeats and three exhales later, she spoke.

"This." She pulled away only long enough to look at him. He absorbed her words, letting them roll around in his head until he grasped her meaning. "I want you and me. Us. I want to be 'Kate' all the time."

Four beats, one deep breath.

Her nose brushed his again, nuzzling him lightly until her lips were barely touching. "I love you, Rick."

The words had barely escaped her mouth by the time he flipped them around, and then it was her back pressed against the counter edge. His lips pressed fiercely against hers, whatever passion he'd held back in the first kiss, he poured into this one. She responded in kind, pressing herself against him in a silent plea for more.

"Tell me again," he breathed, his lips hovering above hers.

"I love you." She was cut off by her own sharp gasp as he bit down on her lip, her leg hitching over his hip in consequence.

One of his hands remained nestled against the small of her back, holding her close while the other abandoned her waist to gently brush her cheek, that was utterly contradictory to the way his mouth captured hers.

The hand on her cheek slipped back into her hair and tugged gently, exposing her neck. She concentrated on memorizing the feeling of his tongue against her throat, his teeth nipping lightly, his lips, ghosting across her skin. All of a sudden, the sensations stopped, and she felt the weight of his head resting against her clavicle.

"I love you," she murmured, fingers playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck. She pushed him, gently, just enough space between them so she could lower her mouth over his. The kiss was tender, sweet in a way it wasn't before.

"I love you too," he murmured, his lips still pressed against hers.

And then the front door opened.

"Dad?" he heard Alexis' voice call out, followed by the door shutting, her keys jingling as she tucked them away. He flew from Kate, his pupils now dilated for an entirely different reason. She tugged her shirt back over her midriff from where he had pushed it up, while he used his fingers to push his hair back as best he could, both hastily trying to hide any trace of their predicament.

"In the kitchen, Sweetie," he called back, proud at how normal he sounded. It wasn't ten seconds later that she appeared at the kitchen island.

He knew how they must look. Kate was still pressed against the counter, her hands planted on the marble surface behind her in an attempt to look casual. In contradiction, her hair was mussed up, her shirt rumpled, and her lips were almost as scarlet as the blush crawling up her neck. He was certain he didn't look any different.

"Detective Beckett," Alexis drew out her name. Kate froze, not missing the use of her title. A few moments passed before at last, Alexis broke into a small smile. "I've missed you." Kate relaxed instantly. "We've missed you."

The redhead stepped closer, and almost instinctively, Kate opened up her arms, enveloping the girl in a tight hug. "I've missed being here, Lex," she murmured into the girl's hair. It was a long time before either moved to break away.

Kate had seen Alexis once after The Incident. That's what she had been mentally calling it. It wasn't healthy to euphemism it; she knew that, but it was easier than calling it 'that-time-her-world-all-but-fell-apart'.

It had been in a small café during a long lunch break that she assured the youngest Castle she would visit the loft. Soon, recalled saying. It felt like a broken promise the moment the words had passed her lips. Kate was shaken from the memory by the muffled sound of Alexis mumbling into her blouse.

"This what you call soon?"

"I'm sorry, Lex," Kate murmured, sincerely, tightening her hold. "I'm so sorry."

"Just don't let it happen again," the teenager said, pulling away, the traces of a smile on her face. In her peripheral, Kate noticed Castle inching closer to them.

Kate released her, watching with a faint smile as the girl transferred seamlessly from her arms to her father's. "How was it today?" she heard him mumble. Alexis shrugged, noncommittally, leaning back far enough to look into her dad's eyes.

He brushed her bangs from her forehead, dropping a kiss to the scar bordering her hairline. She had worked for years to grow out her hair, convinced bangs were so last year, only to cut them the day she was released from the hospital in an attempt to cover the angry pink mark.

"It was…whatever. What's for dinner?" she asked, clearly anxious to change the subject. Castle swallowed the lump in his throat and repeated the mantra his own therapist impressed upon him: she will talk about it when she's ready.

"Uh, well, I was just about to start on that," he told her, recovering from the disappointment quickly. "Soup and sandwiches sound alright?"

"Sounds perfect, Dad," without moving from his arms, she turned to look at Kate. "Can you stay for dinner?"

"Oh." For a moment, Kate forgot they could even see her. She was captivated by their interaction, leaving her standing, awkward, and without words. "I, uh, I wish I could, but I…can't." She winced as she finished the sentence. It sounded like she was making excuses.

"I have an...um, an engagement." Alexis' eyes asked for a more detailed explanation, but for once, Castle took his cue.

"Why don't you pull out the cheese you want me to use, Sweetie," he told her, releasing his daughter. "I'm going to walk Kate out."

Alexis just hummed her response, eyeing them suspiciously. She was hurt, Kate could tell.

It wasn't until they were on the opposite side of his front door that either of them spoke. She leaned backwards against the wall of the hallway, fiddling with the cuffs of her shirt.

"I'm not running away from this, Rick," she assured them. "Ryan cashed in his karma chips, and I got suckered into doing him a favor tonight."

"I believe you." He planted a hand on the wall beside her head, resting his weight on it. She read the stress in the lines of his face, and without thinking, she found her hand winding around the bicep he used to balance himself, her opposite arm snaking around his waist.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"If you want to see Ryan about that favor you owe him sometime in the next century, you'd better swallow that offer." No one spoke for a long moment and she remained wrapped around him, afraid to pull away prematurely. Before the silence broke them, he spoke.

"Can I see you tomorrow?"

It was hopeful.
Promising.

She felt the smile blooming on her face as she absorbed his words. "Yeah, Rick." She replied, pulling away to touch his cheek, gently. "Until tomorrow."

…

"And frequently we ignored our love, but we could never mistake it."
Ben Qweller

…

I don't normally extend past the quotation, but I'm making an exception in this case.
To accompany the beginning of the new installment, I put together a soundtrack that marries this series made up of music that inspired this story. I've put links on my profile page to download them, if you are interested.
(Feedback is so much appreciated).