Disclaimer: I do not own these characters-if I did I would have my own house in the Hamptons (you can find writing I do get paid for on Amazon, beginning with Wearing the Cape). Summer Heat continues the Castle/Beckett storyline begun in The Long Holiday, and is told around the events in Episode 3/1, A Deadly Affair (suitably altered by "personal stuff").

Epilogue

Castle woke up first, roused by the morning light that warmed Beckett's bed. Turning on his side, careful not to wake her where she lay curled in on herself but face towards him, he watched her sleep. It was a light sleep, easy, flirting with wakefulness and waiting only a word or a touch.

Detective Kate Beckett. Beckett. Kate. In the year and change since she'd flashed her badge and informed him that she needed to ask him "a few questions," she'd really changed his whole life. He couldn't begin to count the ways but before that night he'd been just playing, increasingly bored with the game, the one serious piece of his life a beautiful and amazing daughter who was growing fast and needing him less and less each day. His charm and his gifts had let him pretty much skate through life, surround himself with fun and colorful people, follow his whims and move on to the next party, the next game, once he ceased to be entertained.

Until Beckett.

Someday he'd have to tell her how seeing himself in her eyes (a frivolous fellow, a light-weight, a careless butterfly) had challenged him, tell her what shadowing her and becoming part of the 12th had done to him. He hadn't changed for her; he'd changed because without ever thinking about it he'd wanted to be her partner, a true member of her team, as valuable as Espo and Ryan. Their acceptance and camaraderie, Captain Montgomery's praise, was true gold and filled a need he hadn't even known he had.

Beckett shifted, feeling the sunbeam thrown across her arm, settling with a sigh while Castle held his breath.

Beckett. Kate. His angel of justice, all steel resolve, tempered and made stronger by her bottomless compassion for others. Despite his best efforts, he still couldn't find the words. Nikki Heat was only a pale shadow of the woman lying beside him. But Kate had so many scars, fears buried deep so the rest of the world saw only her strength.

"So how this is going to be any different? God I want it to be different."

Remembering the open, beseeching look in her swimming eyes when she'd asked for reassurance even while showing how much she wanted this, it broke his heart a little.

And he'd lied.

It hadn't been a big lie, just not all of the truth; the word he'd wanted to say had too much weight to it for Kate to hear just yet. Although he'd never solve all of the mystery that was Kate Beckett, he knew enough to know that if he used the word in his heart now, she'd run. Kate would run far and fast, because for her love meant pain; a mother who'd left her by dying, a father who'd left her by drinking his own pain away, maybe others like Will that he didn't know about who'd said the words and hadn't stayed.

He said it anyway, without breath to give it sound, and then because he had to act the word somehow he leaned over and kissed her, a light brush of his lips on her sleep-opened ones.

It woke her up of course, and he leaned back to watch as her lips slowly firmed, the rhythm of her breath changed, and then her sea-green eyes opened to lazily regard him across her pillow in the early morning light. She reached out to run an exploring finger down his stubbled chin as an easy smile multiplied her tousled beauty, and Castle felt his heart skip and race.

"Morning, lover." Her lazy, breathing whisper nearly destroyed him.

"Good morning, detective." Keep it light, keep it light. Damn, he was getting nearly as good at acting as his mother.

"Mmm, why does the way you use my job title sound so sexy?"

Okay, maybe he wasn't that good yet. "Maybe because I only say it to you."

"You'd better only say it like that to me."

"Only to you, Kate. Always."

He gave her a wider smile than their banter called for and she frowned just a little, obviously wondering what it meant. His beautiful detective didn't like puzzles, and maybe someday he'd tell her. Looking at her in the golden light, he'd realized the other word for the one he couldn't speak just yet.

Always.

Well that's it, folks-the end of Summer Heat. I hope you've had as much fun as I have.

That's it for the next few months, I've got to meet my own deadlines. But I'd love to hear from everyone who enjoyed this story; "Wow!" and "Amazing, epic, practically Shakespeare!" is always welcome, but I'd also love to hear everyone's thoughts on the directions they think the Hamptons-Verse can go.

Because while I'm going to do it my way, I'm willing to steal cool ideas. (Properly credited, of course, because stealing is bad.)

Later.