Look at me! I'm a big girl now... I'm writing a multi-chapter fic! :D

Going for that "heavy, emotional angle..." on this one.

Thanks Trinxy and Syzygy - blah blah blah ;)

Chapter 1 - Chaos

Her head rested gently on his lap while he absent-mindedly raked his fingers through her long, chestnut locks. She'd been working herself to exhaustion for almost two full weeks, so when her day-off finally arrived, there was nothing Beckett wanted to do more than relax completely. Hibernate inside her apartment, cuddle up with the man she adored, get lost in a good book until she had to return to the precinct for her next shift.

She had flopped down on the couch, Deadly Heat in hand, using Castle's thigh as a pillow. And for the past three hours, they'd remained comfortably in that position. Castle tucked into the corner of the couch, gently caressing Beckett's flowing hair, his mind lost in thought, while she silently read her novel.

After she'd received an early morning wake-up call from a certain sassy Medical Examiner a few weeks ago - just after the book had been released - Beckett moved Castle's newest novel to the top of her ever-growing reading list. She was planning to get to it soon anyway, but Lanie's desire to have certain literary details clarified left Kate extremely curious about how Castle may have expressed his inspiration this time around.

So there she lay reading, head on Castle's lap, legs extended fully across the length of her couch.

She'd fully expected Castle to tease her a bit, make some loaded comment about her choice of literary escape. Perhaps insinuate something about enjoying verbal masterbation.

But he'd said nothing.

He just sat quietly, his deep and steady breathing complementing the rhythmic ticking of the clock coming from her bedroom. He had begun by first staring at her (she had told him it was creepy, but she secretly loved it), yet at some point during the last two hours, his attention had shifted. His eyes had glazed over. He was lost, deep in thought as he stared at her far wall.

"You didn't have that in your other apartment."

His voice was quiet, tentative. Almost a whisper.

"Hmmmmm?..." she murmured inquisitively.

"That painting. The Alex Gross. You didn't have it in your other apartment."

Kate gingerly placed a bookmark between the pages, closed the novel, and let it rest against her chest. Her breath caught slightly as she tried to find her voice.

"No," she exhaled softly, tentatively. "I bought that when I got this place."

Her reply hovered between them for what seemed to be an eternity before Castle spoke again, his eyes still fixated on the enormous work of art.

"It's you, isn't it?"

Slightly stunned, Beckett shifted. That was not the question she'd expected him to ask.

"What do you mean?" she whispered.

His voice was soft. His words slow, measured. "The woman. You see yourself in her."

It wasn't a question this time.

They remained immobile, silent, neither of them tearing their eyes from the oil painting on the wall. Beckett's heart rate began to increase as her breathing became heavy. Like the painting itself, her body, her emotions, her mind were in a chaotic state. Gently closing her eyes, Beckett took a deep breath. She exhaled excruciatingly slowly, feeling her pulse beginning to settle.

She felt one of his hands tenderly skim her left shoulder, her body responding with a slight shiver. It continued to travel down her arm, his palm grazing the back of her hand as she watched his fingers delicately entwine with hers. She continued to melt as the sensation of his other hand tucked a loose tendril behind her right ear, his lips brushing lightly against the top of her head.

As it was with her love for Temptation Lane, her unfathomable adoration of Nebula-9, or even the history behind the little stick man, Richard Castle had come to learn that if he was patient enough, when she was ready… when she felt safe… she'd tell him.

So he continued to say nothing, allowing the quiet to comfort them both for several minutes, the faint ticking of the clock the only sound.

"It's entitled 'Matasaburo of the Wind'," she began quietly.

Castle remained silent, the tips of his fingers lightly massaging her silky hair.

"It was the first thing I bought after… when..." her voice cracked.

Castle's fingers stilled on the crown of her head. She didn't need to finish that thought. He remembered that moment all too well. The sensation of utter helplessness as he raced along the sidewalk, dodging oblivious pedestrians. The way his heart stopped beating as he could only stand and watch her apartment being consumed by flames. Everything lost. Gone. Destroyed.

It was one more thing that they'd never talked about. She'd attempted to joke it off once - Do you have any brochures? I'm looking for a place. Mine blew up - but he knew how much she was truly hurting. Yet another incident in the life of Kate Beckett that she bottled up. Ignored. Compartmentalized.

"I knew how she felt."

Her quiet voice broke the silence. She felt Castle's strong fingers squeeze hers ever so gently, giving her support, giving her strength.

"The wind in her face… everything pushing against her. Everything crashing down around her. That's exactly how I felt."

Kate reciprocated the light squeeze of his fingers, drawing the intertwined hands up to rest on her stomach. Castle slid his right hand from her hair, bringing it across her chest, reaching for the novel that was sitting there. He picked up the book and carefully placed it on the floor.

She immediately felt a weight lifted from her - literally and figuratively. He'd always managed to do that. Despite the silliness and the wild speculation, this writer, her partner - the man now enfolding her in his arms as his chin rested on the top of her head - he'd always seemed to know the right thing to say or do to lift the burden that was weighing her down.

He shifted gently, turning so that her head could rest firmly on his chest, her back leaning into the vee of his legs. The two of them continued to gaze at the art adorning her wall, allowing the complexities of the painting to speak to them, the layers of meaning to be peeled back.

"I was in a bad place… emotionally. And after the…" she choked slightly as the words faltered on her lips. She felt Castle's strong arms tighten around her torso. Taking a deep breath, she continued. "After the… my… shooting…"

She stopped. She couldn't bring herself back to that place. The darkness. She couldn't find the words. Castle could sense her shake her head ever-so slightly, left and right, against his chest. He knew her eyes were closed.

"You drew in on yourself." His deep voice, reduced to a whisper, broke the silence.

"Yeah," she sighed.

Emotionally, she had been in shambles for so many years, but the sniper had pushed her beyond her breaking point. Unravelled the fragile web of emotions that she'd been straining to keep intact for so long.

"But…" she began, voice dying off.

"But?"

After a moment, she hesitantly finished her thought. "The eclipse."

Castle looked up at the portion of the oil painting that depicted a solar eclipse that was occurring in the midst of all the chaos.

"It was a reminder," she continued, her voice soft but steady, "that even amidst all of the darkness and the discord, despite the anarchy that was coursing through my mind, there was always a light trying to break through."

Castle pulled her body into his, overwhelmed. His hands continued to press themselves against her stomach as he locked the fingers of his left hand that were interwoven with hers.

Kate gently lifted herself from his torso. He immediately missed the warmth of her body against his, the surety he felt of his biceps being wrapped around her lithe form. Releasing his hand, she rose slightly to turn on the couch, her body facing his. Kneeling between his legs, her hazel eyes locked on his.

Without a word, she placed her hands against his chest and leaned in, her face only inches from his.

"You, Castle," she breathed, the scent of vanilla and cherries wafting over him. "You were my light... You were always my light."

His breath caught in his chest, completely undone. So many times, Kate Beckett struggled to find the right words, but when she found them… wow.

He leaned forward, crushing her lips against his, his hands cupping the sides of her face, her hands still resting on his chest. She could feel his heart racing under her palms.

His tongue teased against her lips, but she denied him entrance as she pulled away. She could read the slight confusion in his darkened blue eyes as she leaned in once more to ghost her lips against his, the kiss soft and chaste, before she planted her feet on the floor. His disappointment was short lived as she took his hands and coaxed him off the couch.

"Come on, Castle," she smiled, "I gotta show you something."

Chapter 2 to come... eventually...

So there you go... Judge away. :)