Coffee is symbolic for those two characters, no matter who brings the coffee, her or me, it's like this is our Good Morning Kiss - a way of saying without actually using words: 'Good morning, my heart. How are you doing'- Nathan Fillion

The cup had traveled with her to DC, but she had never unpacked it, afraid of the onslaught of emotion it would bring on if she started thinking about all the moments tied to it. And now she was back home, in her old apartment, which had been on lease since she left for DC.

DC. She had liked it and even tried living and working her way into the groove of a new job. Only, it felt wrong every time she worked a case. Not only the setting, but the people, no matter how cunning and intelligent they were, were different with their protocol-driven detecting and narrow-minded thinking. It was a strange deviation from her usual throwback of out-the-box theorizing with her old team. She could've thrown herself into the career and put her quick wit and fierce tenacity to use, but all too late she realized her heart wasn't in it.

The heart wants what the heart wants echoed in her mind as she re-packed the small amount of belongings she'd accumulated in DC, after quitting the job that had changed everything. It played in her head on the plane, and again as she pleaded for her old spot back, which Gates grudgingly, but gracefully let her accept. Completing a mountain of paperwork hadn't hurt either. Ryan and Esposito had been a different story, giving her disapproving looks when they thought she wasn't looking and never really talking to her face, but as the weeks slipped by, jokes and smiles began to fill the cracked silences and awkward moments. Bit by bit, she had her old team back. Well, not all of it.

She was unpacking the last of the boxes, when she noticed one last item, peeking out of the newspaper loosely wrapped around it. That damn cup. She picked it up, shaking away the paper and glided her fingers over the smooth surface, thinking how everything about it reminded her of him.

The engraving of his love on the bottom, the grooves and curves rounding their way around the cup sparked the thought of how well their bodies had fit together, the smooth handle and rough porcelain of how his silky lips and scruffy cheeks had felt, the blue of his twinkling cerulean eyes, and the faint smell of espresso of all the coffee he'd brewed for her, always rich with flavor, creamy, and warm. No one had made coffee like him. No one had loved her like him.

Shit. She was getting sentimental. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, but the ring on her neck caught her attention, the new addition that sparkled in the dull light next to her mother's. She pulled it out to stare at it once more, thinking of how she'd gotten it.

The world shrank around her and all she saw was his serious and calm face; his eyes pleading and scared. Time had stopped and all she could hear was the thumping of her racing heart pressing against her ears. She couldn't think; still running through the draining emotions of the day and him. He wanted to marry her.

"Castle," she finally whispered in awe, flickering her gaze between the flawless diamond and his face, slightly panicking at his solemnness.

She'd expected a break-up. Not a proposal.

She thought there'd be nervous butterflies and shy, tentative smiles when this happened; a certain joy and silliness that would've been theirs and them. Not this; where the echo of their fight was cloying the air with loose ends and unfinished apologies. Not like this.

She echoed her thoughts as she pushed, "Castle, not like this," into the growing silence, her voice breaking.

He continued to stare at her stone-faced, ring gripped tightly in his hand.

She scurried down from the swing to join him in his kneeled position on the ground, and grabbed his face, making him look at her.

"I love you." She leaned in, forcefully kissing him to prove her point, tears silently trailing down her face.

He caught up with her half-way and fisted his hands in her hair pulling her in tighter, attacking her mouth hungrily before ripping himself away.

"Kate, I mean it," he choked, his voice raw with emotion. Still clutching her hair, he untangled his fingers, and wiped away her tears with a gentle swipe of his thumb, adding a chaste kiss on both cheeks before finding her eyes again.

She thumbed the collar on his shirt, looking down at the threading as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. She was nervous. He seemed so sure. "Castle, I love you, and I want to be with you, but DC is a whole different territory."

His eyes flashed with something indescribable. "You got the official offer?"

She nodded her head slightly, watching him carefully, his face impasse.

"And you accepted." He stated, knowing the answer from the look in her eye.

"I was going to tell you, and then I thought you were going to br-"

"Break-up with you?" he finished, disbelief evident in his tone.

She nodded her head, avoiding his gaze, as he suddenly gripped her into a crushing hug.

"No, never," he whispered, laced with emotion.

Her phone rang, bringing her reminiscing to a halting stop. She blinked her eyes a few times, before mechanically slipping her hand into her coat pocket and grasping the cool edges of her cell. Pulling it out, she saw the precinct's caller ID flashing on the screen and quickly slid ANSWER across its surface. A few garbled words from Esposito let her know there had been a murder. She murmured a few words in response, confirming the address, before hanging up and running a hand through her hair with a sigh. She pushed Castle to the back of her thoughts. She had a case to solve.

"What've you got for me, Lanie?" Kate addressed her friend, tone clipped and professional. She and the ME were on good terms, but Kate wasn't in the mood for cheery hellos.

Lanie noticed, and gave her a questioning eyebrow, mouthing what's up with you?, but Kate shook it away, instead nodding her head at the victim.

Lanie gave her a look, sighing. COD was three bullets to the brain, and based off of lividity and temp, she assessed TOD between 9 and 11 PM.

Ryan and Esposito ambled over, giving her the scoop on the vic's ID, Brent Walters aged 31, and mentioned they'd found the shell casings from the three GSWs lodged in their vic's skull, scattered behind some bushes about 10 yards away.

Beckett nodded absently, eyes automatically scanning the scene for any abnormalities. She did a quick survey of the crowd of onlookers and her heart stopped as she locked contact with a particular set of blue eyes.

Electricity zapped through her veins and her heart pumped faster as she hungrily drunk in his presence. He looked good, but tired, as if he hadn't been sleeping well. His hair flopped messily over his forehead, and he was carrying a five o'clock shadow. A flannel and jeans adorned his frame, different from his usual dapper attire. Her inspecting eyes stopped short at his glaring gaze.

His penetrating stare unnerved her, so she broke it off, feeling horribly guilty as she turned her back on him.

"Lanie," she delivered nervously, voice dripping with panic. Her friend looked up hurriedly and quickly found the source of alarm as her gaze found the large figure of Castle, decorating the edge of the pushing, eager mass.

"Lane, what do I do?" Beckett pleaded.

"Did you ever tell him you were back?"

Kate shook her head solemnly.

"Girl, I'm gonna smack you. You come back, mostly for him, and it's been what? Two months since? I highly suggest you hand this one over to the boys and get your ass over there."

Kate furrowed her brows as if that had been the last answer she'd wanted to hear, but nodded slightly and took a deep breath, steeling herself.

"Ry? Espo?"

The boys snapped their heads in her direction. "Yeah. Yo." They replied simultaneously.

She smiled slightly.

"You guys take point on this one, I have some personal issues to deal with," she explained honestly, clutching her necklace looped with her rings protectively.

They looked at her concerned and mildly confused, before catching Lanie's pointed stare at Castle. Understanding dawned on both their features, and they both flashed her encouraging smiles and a thumbs up before slipping away to canvass.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded a bit too forcefully. Not at all how she'd planned on greeting him after months of radio silence.

She saw him flinch at her tone, his mouth settling into a frown.

"I could ask you the same question," he replied stonily, matching her budding anger. His hands fisted at his side and his body visibly stiffened. "How long?"

"Can we talk about this somewhere else?" she asked, sensing his overwhelming anger.

"Damnit Beckett, how long?" he almost shouted.

She cringed slightly. She'd been avoiding this for so long, and now her worst fears were coming true. Stupid. Stupid Beckett.

"Two…." She trailed off afraid of his reaction, but steamed on at his sharp glare, "Months. I've been back two months," she stated clearly, now confident; ready to face the consequences.

He blanched his face awash with a gamut of emotions. Hurt. Pain. Sadness. Anger.

Her heart broke. "I'm so sorry."

"No. Don't be," he threw back, "I'm used to it."

It was her turn to get angry. "That was low, Castle," her voice wavering with unshed tears.

"What? You get shot; you don't call for three months. You get a new job and move. You leave and don't bother to call once you get back? No, I got your message. Loud and clear. It was nice seeing you, Beckett. Maybe in another two months, you'll feel like getting in touch."

He turned around and disappeared into the pulsing swarm of people, leaving her stunned and broken.

She wanted to call after him, but he was already gone. God, when had all this turned into such a mess?

They'd driven to the loft in a steady silence, the proposal and his fierce promises of forever resounding in her ears.

The ring had found its way back into the depths of Castle's pocket as it became clear an engagement wasn't imminent. They'd agreed to talk more about it when they got home. Home. The loft.

The scrape of the key unlocking the door was the only sound of their arrival as they both silently shuffled through the door, removing jackets and toeing off shoes without preamble.

They drifted over to the living room space and stood staring awkwardly at the other.

Castle slipped his hand in his pocket and extracted the ring, again, holding it out to her.

"At least keep the ring. It's yours."

She panicked. "No, Castle. I can't."

"You can and you will." He stated, ending further argument by placing the ring in her hand, and gently curling her fingers around it.

She looked at him, anguished, as she slowly removed her necklace and slung the new addition to it with careful pointedness. His eyes were burning with emotion, understanding the importance of this ceremony.

"Thank you," she whispered in his ear as she kissed his cheek, holding herself there for a moment, letting everything wash over her.

"Kate, what happens now?"

She took a deep breath before pulling away from their embrace. "I'm heading to DC and it's going to be with or without-"

"Without me? Kate, I said I'd follow you wherever you choose, and I'm going to hold to that," he pressed sincerely, the hurt bursting in his eyes.

"Why?"

Confusion flitted across his face. She re-gathered her thoughts, and asked the burning question she'd been holding in since the proposal.

"Why now, Rick? Why not propose last week, or next month? Why now? Because it seems a whole hell lot like an ultimatum here." She watched his face carefully as he digested her words. He seemed stunned and then resigned. Her heart plummeted.

"You want to know the truth Kate?" his eyes flashing with sudden anger.

"That wouldn't be out of order," she sniped, crossing her arms defensively.

"I bought that ring six months ago."

Her bubbling anger vanished at his confession, confusion filling its place.

"Why?"

"Damnit Kate because I love you and ever since you had to stay with me for a week while Meredith was here, I thought hell, if we can survive Meredith and not to mention a whole lot of other things, then we can do this, and I want you here. To stay. But I never knew when to bring it up, Kate. I was going at your pace, waiting, just waiting for the word on when you wanted to take the next step."

"But I did ask you! After the Vaughn case, and I said, and I quote, "Where are we going?" and you said, and I quote, "To the bedroom."" She protested loudly.

"How was I supposed to know what you meant by that? You could've pushed, you know, and said, "No, Castle, I meant us." As you might've noticed I'm not the poster child of relationships here. Divorced twice, remember?" he yelled right back, waving his arms excitedly.

"Well, I'm no picnic either!"

"You don't think I don't know that? Hell, we both have a mountain of baggage, but you know what our problem is?"

"Do tell."

"We never talk about anything." He seethed, talking predatory steps closer to her, moving into her space.

She'd never seen him this angry before. All of their other fights seemed trivial and petty in comparison.

He kept going. "But I'll tell you what. I'll tell you exactly how I feel. Hurt and pissed. It hurts so much that you didn't tell me about the job offer."

"But I-"

"No buts. Just because you thought you weren't going to get it doesn't change anything. It's the fact that you thought I was not important enough to even tell. Who else knew?"

She didn't respond.

"Kate, who else knew?" he spat, barely concealing his frustration.

"Lanie and Dad," she admitted unwillingly.

"I see. What did they say?" he asked, suddenly calm.

"They persuaded me to do what I think is the best for me."

"Uh huh and including me in this decision didn't arise at any point?"

"Of course you did! You were the only reason I was holding back and unsure of what to do. God, Castle, you're the most important person in my life, but I didn't know where we stood. I thought maybe if we did take a step further, then it wouldn't work out because what if the only thing we fell in love with was the dance?"

"The da-the dance?" he exclaimed, "You've got to be kidding me, Kate." He ran his hands through his hair, agitated. "If "this" was just a dance Kate, then I'd have left long ago. And geez Kate, it wasyou; first and foremost, I fell in love with. I won't stop loving you. No matter how much you hurt me, or I hurt you, so help me, I just can't seem to stop."

The rest of her memory of the moment was all a blur, but she does remember kissing him hard and desperate, her body flaring at his responding touch. Clothes were pushed aside and quick, shallow kisses shared as their heavy breathing matched the quick and rough pace of their rhythmic bodies. It had ended all too quickly. More accusations had been thrown, along with a book, but she's not sure who threw what at whom. Someone yelled it was over and she walked out, without jacket or shoes, slamming the door behind her, and packed her things.

And that was the end of it.

He'd always fought for her, for them, and now he had stopped because she was too stubborn, always resisting, and too afraid of too serious. It was time for her to fight.

A/N:Thoughts?