She closes the lid of the laptop as the final recording – yesterday's, she notes – comes to an end, and stares at the wall of the hotel room. She had checked into it after being discharged from hospital the day before – in spite of her father's quiet insistence she go back to the cabin with him – but the muted tones are as blank as her memories of the tale she just spent her morning experiencing.

Esposito brought her a few things earlier, including the laptop, and had mentioned there was a "special something" in the disk drive from Castle.

She almost tossed it without looking at it, but in the end, her curiosity had been stronger.

So much of her life is now just... blank. Like she blinked and a year and a half went by.

The doctors are all so cautious about whether or not she will get her memory back, and everyone seems to have an opinion on whether she should be told anything about her missing months, so in a sense, it is a tremendous relief to have so much of the last few months filled in for her – in her own words, which, as a spy, she trusts over anyone else.

And now... now, she has no idea what to think.

A knock on the door interrupts her musings, and out of habit she picks up a throwing knife before moving silently to the door.

"Katie? It's me." Jim's voice meets her before she has a chance to check who is on the other side, his voice soft in volume but commanding in tone, a combination that her mother used to joke he learned out in the field but perfected when he had a daughter. Kate relaxes, but waits until the door is open and she can see for herself there are no threats coming in with him before she drops the knife on the side table and steps aside to allow her father entry.

She watches her father do a visual sweep of the room as he comes in – even years of alcohol abuse and therapy can't take the spy out of the spy – and sees the moment he recognizes the laptop.

"You got Rick's project?" he asks gruffly.

"Just finished it." She stuffs her emotions back inside with a deep breath, in spite of that strange burning in her chest that begs her to allow herself the chance to cry.

He turns to her, stumbles over his words, attempts – and fails – to be tactful. "Did it... help?"

The look of hope lighting up her father's tired eyes tempts her to lie, to tell him that everything was now crystal clear. It wouldn't be fair, though, so she shakes her head.

"It filled in a few blanks, I guess – like why you and the boys keep pushing my asset on me, but... no, I don't remember any of it. It's like hearing about someone else's life, only my voice is narrating."

Jim turns away, a practiced move she knew of old, designed to mask his disappointment until he had control of his features once more. He crosses to the window, staring out at the city. "He's more than just an asset, Katie."

She closes her eyes against the grief of disappointing her father. "To you, maybe. To... her. The version of me who lived that life." She opens her eyes once more, allowing the bottled frustration burning in her lungs a moment of release. "But to me? All I can see is a moment of weakness that broke my cover and exposed my real self to a civilian, and the only way I can fix it is to get as far away from New York as possible and just hope no one ever finds out about him."

Jim turns to her, studying her a long moment. "That man would go through hell and back rather than betray you. Surely you see that, after going through those," he gestures to the laptop.

She joins her father, staring out over the city, her spine straight, her jaw tight. "You say that now, and I'm sure he does, too – and maybe even I did, before the explosion, but all I know now is that I'm taking everyone else's word for it, and that goes against everything I've learned in this job."

Jim takes her arm, turning her to face him, his weary eyes pleading with her. "Then trust yourself. Do you really think that you would have given him your real name, or been honest about your mother, or brought him to the cabin to meet me if you weren't absolutely sure of him?"

She rolls her eyes, shakes her arm free, irritation at his lack of understanding making her blood boil. "For all I know I might have been blinded by sleeping with him."

Her father levels her with a look. "I don't ask about your missions, Katie, but I know the nature of your job. You can't tell me this has never happened."

She can't stop the blush rise from her chest and flooding her cheeks. She stalks across the room, landing on the sofa with a huff. "I am not talking to you about that."

Jim holds his hands up as if to stop the turn their conversation has taken, yet still pushes his point. "Good. I don't want to hear about it. But you know I'm right. And you managed to never give any of them your personal information."

If only the sofa would open up and swallow her now. "You make it sound like that's all I do."

"No judgments here. My point is, you're one of the best. You always have been – and a big part of that is because you've always been so careful to protect yourself. Most of the Agency doesn't even know you exist – or didn't, until the last few weeks. You don't make mistakes, and you don't trust easily. Yet somehow, you trusted him. You love him, Katie, you just... don't remember." He eases himself down into the armchair opposite her, the coffee table with the laptop between them.

Love.

Could she?

Had she really been through so much in the past weeks and months that she had actually fallen for the man with the pleading blue eyes?

She shook her head, pushing the thought away – yet still it lingered. "So what am I supposed to do?"

"That's up to you, sweetheart. But you are on medical leave pending a psych evaluation, and the Agency is a little preoccupied just now anyway. You're welcome to come back to the cabin with me, but... well, maybe your time might be spent more profitably here in the city." He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket with a phone number jotted on it, laying it carefully on top of the closed laptop.

She doesn't bother asking if it's Castle's.

"You make it sound like it's all going to magically work itself out. This isn't a fairytale, Dad."

Her father smirks as he stands. "How do you know until you kiss the frog? Sleeping Beauty might just wake up."

She groans, burying her face in her hands. Jim crosses to the door.

"Just – promise me you'll think about it, Katie. That's all I ask."

She does think about it, right through the rest of the afternoon, her father's quiet, thought out words turning over and over in her mind, the piece of paper with Castle's phone number taunting her from across the room.

More than that, though, the experiences recorded for her, her own story, runs through again and again. Her mind reels as she goes over the information – the mystery surrounding her mother's death now put to bed, the Director himself behind it all and now safely in custody, his reputation in ruins. Agent Montgomery – her mentor and friend – dead. Royce – dead. Agent Turner – a double agent – dead. So much bloodshed to cover one man's quest for power.

She tries to read, but her thoughts float back to the author she supposedly spent so much time with. She flips on the TV to fill the silence, but there's nothing on that's worth watching. She's on leave, for now, until this mess is sorted, so she has no reason to report in or even call the boys to distract her – probably a good thing, considering their part in the project put together for her. Two more people for her to disappoint.

She winds up on the sofa once more, staring down the laptop and the scrawled number that remains untouched since her father left.

Picking up the piece of paper with trembling fingers, she pulls out her phone and dials.

She watches from across the street as he arrives, sauntering through the park, his eyes on a couple of kids playing on the monkey bars, parents sitting on a nearby bench chatting. The swings are deserted and he meanders over, sitting in one of the larger ones to wait for her.

She takes a deep breath. Now or never.

Crossing the road, she approaches with caution, eyes sweeping automatically for any sign this could be a setup or a trap. Her gut tells her it's okay, but her training keeps her on alert regardless. This is why she didn't want to meet at the Old Haunt – she needs the protection of multiple escape routes.

She sees the moment he notices her arrival – sooner than she expected. It's the sudden, sharp straightening of his spine when his shoulders were slumped mere seconds earlier that gives him away. She perches on the second swing, letting her silence greet him for her.

Her mouth is strangely dry, her mind devoid of words.

"I wasn't sure you were going to come," he says, eyes turned resolutely forward as if it hurts him to look at her.

"Neither was I." The honesty of her statement takes her by surprise – him, too, by the way he glances at her out the corner of his eye. "I played through the recordings," she adds.

He nods. "Good. I'm glad. You deserved to know."

Her heart is hammering in her chest, her throat tight, her voice scratching. Why is this so difficult? "For what it's worth, Mr. Castle, I'm sorry things have happened the way they did."

He seems to deflate before her eyes. "I don't need an apology. That's not why I did it."

Her eyes burn with unshed tears that she doesn't fully understand, but she blinks them away, shooting for a warmer tone than her calm professionalism of a moment ago. "I know. But a few days ago you were making future plans with the woman you're in love with, and that's... she's not me. And I am sorry to cause you pain, Mr. Castle, especially considering everything we've apparently been through together."

She observes his sharp intake of breath, sees how much her words hurt him, how brave he is trying to be. "I don't want anything from you. I just need you to know that wherever you go, I will always be there to help you. You can call – whenever. Trust me, Kate. I'm here for you. Always."

Her father told her earlier that this man won't betray her and at the time she hadn't wanted to believe him, but the look in Castle's eyes breathes life into her father's words. She still doesn't believe that there is room for love in her life, but if that ever changed, she hopes she will one day find another Castle. He is a good man, and he deserves...

He deserves a chance. And the only way to give him that chance was to start over and get to know him again. She had heard her own version of events this morning, but now she wants more than anything to hear his.

"Castle? Tell me our story."

He turns surprised blue eyes on her, and then his whole face lights up, his body canting toward hers as his toes scuff in the dirt, the bashful grin making him look incredibly handsome in the late afternoon sun.

"Well, it started with a novelist who had run out of ideas. One day at a book launch, his father, who, it turns out, was a spy, stole some secrets, and asked the novelist to look after them for him. Then, about half an hour later, his life really changed when he met a college student called Nikki Heat – and he fell in love."

He talks for a long time, making her laugh, making her cry, spinning his words in a cocoon around them, tugging on the corners of her mind, answering a number of the questions her own version of events had left out.

Once he finishes, a calm settles over them, a silence that cloaks them in companionship, that trembles with the possibility that maybe, just maybe, this isn't goodbye.

Kate watches him, suddenly aware of the grin that tugs on her face – and of how long it's been since she has been this light and free. "You know, my Dad had this crazy idea."

Castle's attention focuses on her immediately. "What is it?"

She feels the blush rising up her cheeks. "He thinks that with one kiss I'll remember everything."

His grin is crooked, wistful. "One magical kiss?" His gaze warms her from the inside out, but he seems to be waiting for her permission.

"Castle?"

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me."

Instantly, he pushes his swing closer to hers, one large hand cupping her jaw reverently. He stares into her eyes for a long moment before glancing down to her lips and slowly, slowly touching them to his. It's sweet and soft and innocent, and somehow... familiar. She moans, chasing the sensation, pushing closer and opening to him, allowing his tongue to sweep inside. He tastes of coffee and something she knows, and the way he teases her, drawing her out and igniting her veins... an image of them pressed up against a red door flashes in her mind, the way he nips at her bottom lip and soothes it with his tongue. Another image follows the first, of them wrapped around each other in a motel room, of his tongue doing wicked things to her. Another of a different room again, of waking up in each other's arms and trading lazy early morning kisses.

She gasps and pulls away, searching his now familiar eyes as memory after memory floods her senses, and relief propels her into his arms as she drops to her knees off the swing and buries her face in his neck, his scent surrounding her, his arms holding her safe and warm and tight.

"Kate...?"

"I'm okay," she gasps, snaking her arms around his broad torso, burrowing in and hanging on, anchoring herself to him through the storm of her emotion.

She hears him testing her words, searching out meaning. "Okay as in...?"

She laughs, a strangled, gurgling, thin sound, and raises her eyes to meet his. "I remember, Castle. Not everything, not by a long shot, but... I remember us. I remember you."

He gazes at her in wonder, one hand caressing her cheek in awe, and then his smile blooms across his face – a beautiful, magical thing that lights up everything within her, and she feels her own smile grow in response.

Then he bends down once more and fuses their mouths together, and her mind goes blissfully blank in a much more pleasant way.

Six months later...

"Castle, have you seen my holster?"

His head pops around the bathroom door, toothbrush poking out of his mouth, hair adorably mussed. "It's not on it's hook?"

She arches an eyebrow at him, sweeping her eyes over his bare chest, her mouth dry. God, she just had him a few minutes ago – it's why she's packing so frantically now – and she really doesn't have time to pounce on him again, no matter how delectable he looks with the morning sun streaming in through the windows behind him.

"Not that one, babe," is all she says, and he chokes a little, his eyes darkening with arousal even as he disappears back into the bathroom to spit out the toothpaste.

His voice echoes back to her a moment later, and with his words she can faintly hear him rinsing his toothbrush and tapping it against the sink. "Last time I saw it was when I took it off you two nights ago."

Her blood hums as she remembers exactly what he had been doing with his tongue and those talented fingers of his at the time. She exits the closet, walks around the bed and sees the offending article poking out from behind the nightstand on her side of the bed. "How on earth did this get... you know what? Never mind."

She stuffs it into her duffel bag without ceremony, and isn't at all startled when a pair of strong arm wind around her waist from behind and stubble grazes her neck. "A super-hot spy was wearing it under her dress."

She groans, allows her head to drop, giving him more access to her neck. "Said spy needs to wear it again tonight," she mumbles, smirking as he answers her words with a nip of his teeth and a groan.

"Remind me how long you'll be this time?" he asks, spinning her in his arms so he can see her face. She reaches up to cup his jaw tenderly.

"Only two days this time. It's just an embassy party in London, and they've asked a few more of our people to go as added security. I won't even be taking down any bad guys this time, probably. Just watching politicians drink champagne." She pushes away from him, quickly checking her bag one last time before zipping it closed. He watches her with giant, puppy dog eyes, and she holds up a finger with mock sternness.

"None of that, Castle. I'll be back home in two days." She leans in to kiss him, but just before their lips meet, the buzzer can be heard echoing through the loft, followed a moment later by the clear sounds of Alexis ushering in Ryan and Esposito.

Castle groans, dropping his head onto her shoulders, and she cradles him there for a moment.

"Two days, Castle." She pushes him away gently, reaching up to fuse her mouth to his one last time before gathering up her duffel bag and blazer.

"Kate?"

She pauses at the door, looking back at him.

"I love you," he says miserably.

She drops both bag and blazer, rushing back to him and slicking her mouth against his once more. "I love you, too." She grins, sliding away. "And I really do have to go. But if you're very, very good, I might wear the thigh holster on the plane and let you help me remove it once I'm home."

He grins at that, boyish and charming. "I can't wait."

"Me, either," she replies, before picking up her things and heading out the door to join her team, ready for their new mission.

The end.

A/N: Final wordcount: 25,302.

Disclaimer: Neither Castle nor Chuck is mine, but gosh, it's been fun trying to merge them!

Thank you, thank you, thank you, to every single one of you who has read and responded to this fic in any way, for joining me as I've "Chucked up" Castle. You've made my hiatus a joy. Thank you to the Castle Ficathon organisers for doing such an amazing job, and to the Castle Fic Promoter account for being so tireless in promoting me. Thank you to my Twitter and Tumblr friends, who have cheered me on during the hard times and kept me encouraged. Thank you to the amazing group of people who dropped me a line EVERY DAY, even if it was just a couple of words - you made the day to day worthwhile. Thank you to Ninjadoc, Beline, and Tuuli for being my head cheerleaders. Thank you to Esther for being a listening ear and an alarm clock and a cheering squad all on your own and for your amazing work shadow writing the M!chapter. Most of all, thank you to Katherine for betaing every single day, sometimes at work - for being available to talk through plot points and to post for me on days I didn't have internet, and most of all for being an amazing friend. I couldn't have done this without you, and I am so very grateful.

Thank you, everyone, for sharing your hiatus with me, and happy Season 8! :-)

-Lou