Chapter 2

"Has anyone seen Detective Beckett?" she hears Hunt say just before he - and the boys - notice her.

The boys meaning Ryan and Esposito. Castle hasn't shown up today.

She expected this, but that doesn't prevent her from missing him. How she wishes it would be his blue eyes raking appreciatively over her body and not the British Detective Inspector's. It was Castle who she thought of when getting into the black evening dress. But then again, that's nothing new. She has been getting dressed with her partner in mind for longer than she cares to admit. But tonight he's not here to see it.

Hunt begins to explain their plan to the guys and she quickly fills in the rest before there are any more questions. Sometimes it sucks to work with two of the best detectives in the city. Their curious and knowing looks stay on her until the elevator doors close and she's left alone with the Brit.

She struggles to find something to talk about, to fill the silence, but comes up empty. It's a situation she seldom faces anymore. If someone had told her four years ago that she'd grow to like Castle's incessant chatter, she would have laughed. But here she is, missing his crazy theories. Missing him.

Although she's an excellent detective - was long before Castle came along - she's even better with her partner. Working on this case, and especially interrogating a suspect with someone else has been an unpleasant adjustment. Hunt is clearly very good at his job, but nothing can replace the connection she has with Castle. Had with Castle.

He might never come back.

Her gut twists at the sudden thought. She's not stupid. He's a best-selling author and has written three Nikki Heat books. His presence at the precinct hasn't been about research for years now. And after last night...

Why would he come back?

The fist around her heart clenches more tightly and tears fill her eyes. She blinks rapidly to prevent them from falling and fights to keep her face neutral as Hunt begins to go over their plan once again.

She pays only half attention, nods when it seems appropriate, but her mind is busy rehashing the events of last night. Why did she dig up his past? And why did she wait so long before running after him? Maybe she could have made it out in time to catch him - to make him listen to her - instead of having to watch the taillights of his cab as it took off from the curb.

She had tried to call him several times during the night - sleep out of the question - but all she got was his voicemail. And when morning had come and she had to leave for work, she had switched to texts, sending him bits of information about the case. But all her messages went unanswered.

He isn't coming back.

Kate is brought back to the present by the cool evening breeze on her skin when they step out and Hunt guides her to the awaiting cab. He holds the door open for her and she thanks him with a small smile. But her face falls when she looks over his shoulder and her gaze locks onto a pair of familiar blue eyes.

Castle is standing fifteen feet away from them, looking confused.

She opens her mouth - to say what, she doesn't know - but a hand cupping around her elbow serves as a reminder that she's in a hurry. She murmurs an embarrassed sorry to the Detective Inspector and slides into the car. As soon as the door closes, her eyes search out Castle's again. And when the cab merges into the traffic and their gaze breaks, there's only one thought in her head.

He came back?

"Where's the fire, Richard?" his mother asks when he bursts through the door to the loft and makes a beeline for his bedroom.

"No fire, Mother, I'm just late for a party is all," he throws over his shoulder, not bothering to explain more closely.

He really doesn't have the time to explain to his mother the events of the last twenty-four hours.

When Beckett had asked if they could talk, he hadn't imagined the night being such a disaster, ending with him storming out of her apartment. In fact, his intentions had been quite the opposite. He had thought she would be ready to talk about them, about the possibility of more than a friendship. So, hearing her admit that she had been lying all these months, had blindsided him.

He had asked several times if she remembered, and she had flat out lied to his face. The only reason he had been able to surmise, was that she didn't return his feelings. It had been a punch in the gut and he had lashed out, spitting out words which would hurt her as much as she had hurt him.

The ride back to his apartment had helped him calm down, but the lingering feeling of betrayal had left him restless. When he had entered his office, fully intent on writing it out of his system, the sight of his smart board had stopped him short.

Kate might have lied to him since her shooting, but he wasn't really any better. The screen in his study held the evidence.

No, Kate was not the only one with a secret.

And maybe she wasn't the only one to blame for the fight. He hadn't exactly been willing to listen after her initial confession. Instead, he'd jumped to his own conclusions and reacted out of fear of rejection.

And even though the things they'd said had been hurtful, not once had she indicated she didn't love him back.

He had finally fallen asleep at dawn with that thought. And when he had woken up well past noon, the text messages from her - albeit only tidbits about the case - assured him that not all hope was lost.

He had left for the precinct, determined to salvage the damage from last night - to apologize and to listen.

But when he'd arrived, he had seen Beckett, dressed in an elegant evening gown, getting into a cab with a man he had never seen before.

He had raced up to the homicide floor, listened to Ryan and Esposito's cliffnotes on the case and decided his next move, all in the span of ten minutes.

He could have waited at the 12th until Beckett returned. But patience had never been his strongest suit, so he'd called his guy on the way home.

It had required a hefty donation to some British charity, but he had managed to get his name on the list for the party.

And he needs to hurry up, if he wishes to catch Beckett. Checking his appearance in the mirror one last time, Castle rushes out of the apartment.

When he arrives at the Consulate, Castle is surprised to see Beckett and the Detective Inspector in the lobby, obviously on their way out. A quick flash of jealousy flares in him at the sight of them arm in arm, laughing about something, but he stomps the feeling down. They let the anger dictate the conversation last night and he's not going to make the same mistake this time.

"Beckett," he says, loud enough to gain her attention. She halts in her tracks, making the blond man look around to see what caused the sudden stop.

"Castle? What are you doing here?" The smile she wore earlier has dropped, but it doesn't seem like he needs to start dodging bullets, either.

"Can we talk? Alone?" he asks, walking closer and glancing briefly to where Mr. Scotland Yard is still standing at her side. Castle doesn't comment when the other man asks her if everything is alright. Instead, he stands silently, keeping his eyes on hers, letting her make the decision.

She looks at him for a few long seconds and then turns to address the Brit. "Can you give us a minute?" The man in question nods and walks outside, leaving them in some kind of privacy in the guarded lobby of the Consulate.

"Castle, I'm-"

"Kate, I'm-" They start at the same time as soon as they're alone. Letting out a nervous chuckle, she motions for him to go first.

"I came here to apologize for how I behaved last night. I should've listened to you, instead of letting my anger get hold of me like that. I'm truly sorry," he says and hopes she can hear the sincerity of the words.

"No, Castle, I'm the one who should be apologizing. I had no right to say those things to you. The truth is, I know you're not the man on Page Six, at least not anymore. You are a kind, generous man and a loving father. And that's the man that I…" She pauses, and his heart beats faster at the possibility of how that sentence could end. But instead of pushing for more, he waits, giving her time to get the words out right.

After drawing a deep breath she continues, her voice quieter but still steady.

"I know you think I lied because I didn't love you back. And I understand that," she adds quickly when he opens his mouth to protest. "But you were wrong... Because I do," she says and everything around him fades away - everything but her.

She didn't actually say the actual three words, but he doesn't care. Because when she looks at him, for the first time her expression is completely open, the love radiating from her gaze leaving him breathless.

"Y- you do?" he asks, stunned, already reaching for her.

She nods and then laughs, when he's suddenly in her space, one hand curling around her waist, the other cradling her cheek and tilting her head. And then he can't wait anymore and lowers his mouth on hers.

He keeps the kiss short, mindful of their location, and they both let out a soft groan when their lips part.

"Not that I'm complaining about the kiss, but I think we still need to talk," Beckett says softly when he rests his forehead against hers.

"I know, but I'm sure you agree that this is not the right time or place for that. So, what do you say if you fill me in on the way back to the 12th, we'll solve this case and then head over to your place for the talk?" he says, reluctantly pulling his arms from around her.

"Only if we can get Chinese for dinner," she says coyly and turns to walk towards the doors.

He laughs and falls in step with her. And as she begins to go over the events of the day, everything is as it should be. Yes, they still need to talk and he still needs to reveal his secret. She's going to be mad at him and he's going to apologize again. But whatever happens, one thing is for sure.

He's not going to let her go.

End.

A/N: I'm blown away by the response to this story. A big hug to everyone who followed, favorited and took the time to leave a review. I hope this chapter met your expectations.

Dia, you are a genius and one of the kindest, most patient persons on this planet. Thank you so much for your help.

Disclaimer: Don't own them.