"All I'm saying is, you didn't need to smash those Gemini dolls to the floor."

Kate grabs her empty glass of wine and lifts from the couch, offering him a lovely view of her ass as she strides to the kitchen; he tilts his head and watches, his answer lingering in his throat for a moment.

When she turns back to him, though, he jumps to his feet, picks up his own glass before he makes his way to her.

"Come on, it's not like those things were pretty anyway-" he coaxes, skimming his fingers over her wrist while he deposits the wine glass in the sink.

But she moves away, giving him that I'm not impressed look.

"But you knew they meant something to Gates. And just because you like dramatics, you didn't stop for one second to think that maybe, if Wendell had found a way to put something inside the doll, that meant we could probably take it out without breaking it."

She crosses her arms over her chest, eyebrows raised in challenge, and he really, really can't believe that they're having a fight about Gates.

About Gates's...feelings.

"Okay," he concedes reluctantly. "So maybe I didn't stop to consider other options, but come on, Kate, I'd just broken the case wide open! Of course I was excited. Wouldn't you have been?"

"Not enough to break her precious dolls, no," Beckett says, emphasizing her last word with a roll of her eyes, a lift of her hands. "You didn't even know what was in them."

He pouts, but he can't argue that point.

"Well," he hedges, not sure how to fix this - this thing he wasn't even aware was a problem. How did it start again? Oh, he made a joke about Gates's love being short-lived. Bad, bad idea, clearly.

"What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know, maybe apologize to her?" Kate suggests, as if it were obvious.

"What?"

Apologize to Gates, honestly? Is she serious? Besides, he already did.

Okay, maybe he wasn't exactly at his most sincere. So what? It was still an apology. What more can the woman want?

"Yeah, Castle, apologize. This time without laughing, if you can manage it."

He deflates a little under Kate's scowl, shifts from foot to foot. "You thought that doll was scary too," he points out, like that's gonna help.

She sighs, shakes her head at him. "Castle, what we thought of it isn't the point. They obviously mattered to Captain Gates, and you..." she makes this cute little sound in her throat, frustration or annoyance, he's not sure.

"She liked you. She finally, finally liked you, and you had to throw it all away by-"

"Throwing the dolls?"

She narrows her eyes at him.

"Honestly, Kate, I'm not sure why you're so upset about this. Gates's always hated me anyway, so it's not like it's a big change. We'll just carry on like before, politely detesting each other. I don't care."

"I just think..." she slumps against the counter in defeat, pushes her curls back with a finger. "I think it was a good opportunity to finally have her on our side. And - if she liked you - maybe when she figured out the truth about us, she would be a little more...lenient."

He opens his mouth, closes it. Oh. He didn't think of that.

Trying to picture it, though-

"Really?" he says, knitting his brow. "You think her liking me would make any difference to the way she manages her precinct?"

"She did let us keep the junk, didn't she?"

"Only because she was overwhelmed by the apparition of that creepy doll."

Kate hums, then lets out a long exhale. "I guess so. Yeah. You might be right. I thought it was - worth a shot, you know?"

She sounds so discouraged that he can't help canting closer, curling a tentative hand at her waist. It's a relief when she doesn't push him away, leans into his chest instead.

"Kate?" he murmurs, brushing his lips to her temple. He can feel her fingers against his shirt, smoothing the fabric lightly.

"It's fine," she says after a second, straightening up and giving him a soft look. "I'm fine, Castle." Then, with a half shrug: "I'd like to be able to kiss you goodnight too, that's all."

He lifts an eyebrow at her. "Are you saying you didn't like my handshake, Beckett?"

Oh, that gorgeous smile that breaks out on her face, parts her lips wide and lights up her face - it makes him breathless every time.

"No," she answers quietly, and there's coyness in her voice, in the look she gives him from under her eyelashes. "I did like your handshake. Very much."

"Oh yeah?" he pushes, can't help it when she looks at him like that, all soft and seductive, her love like a halo around her.

He doesn't care if she hasn't said the words yet; she's spoken them with her eyes a hundred times over.

"Yeah," she breathes, her mouth flirting at his jaw when she pushes on tiptoes, wraps her arms around his chest. "In fact, right now? I feel like shaking your hand again, Castle."

His eyes flutter shut when she darts her tongue to his skin, presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, and he finally gives in, meets her lips in a long, erotic dance, no teeth, just a slow slide of tongues that leaves his heart thumping.

"Best handshake ever," he whispers when they part.

She laughs and kisses him again.

It's only when she's lying against him in bed, her body warm and boneless, her hair soft against his cheek, that it fully hits him. That case.

His heart catches in his chest, his arm reflexively tightening over Kate's waist, and she half-turns, gives him her beautiful profile in the dimness.

"What is it?" she asks, quiet and rough with sleep.

The words won't come.

He cranes his neck to brush a kiss over her cheek, nuzzles into her neck, and at last manages to rasp, "Thank you."

He hopes she can't hear the emotion in his voice.

"For what?"

Her brow wrinkles, that adorable little crease, and he uncurls his arm so he can trace the tiny spot with his index finger.

"For walking away from your mother's case," he murmurs, couldn't speak louder if he wanted to. "For coming to me that night, and letting us have this. Instead of winding up dead like those two kids who couldn't let go of their parents' tragic end."

He sees her swallow, the clear line of her throat working, and then she shifts completely, rolls her body to face him.

Her fingers touch his lips, his cheek, wrap around his neck.

"I might wind up dead some day, Castle," she sighs, warning and regret both. "Came pretty close before."

"I know," he hastens to say, eyes closing against the terrible vision. "But you walked away, Kate. You walked away, and we had this. We have this," he repeats, voice stronger, the words like a talisman. Whatever happens, whatever befalls them - at least they have this.

No regrets.

She watches him, her eyes deep and lovely, so much knowledge in them, and then she rises up to kiss his mouth, warm and devastating. He opens for her, their bodies aligning, and gratitude pounds in his heart.

They have this.