AN: Well folks, this is it. The last chapter. Thank you all for coming on this ride with me, and for sharing your thoughts and feelings so generously. This story was never meant to be a long one and really started with two scenes and a concept. I am honored by its reception, and hope that it has been enjoyable. So thanks.

This chapter tests the limits of its rating.

numb: -verb

5. to make numb

"Happy Anniversary, Detective." He smiles and sets a cup of decaf and a muffin with a candle sticking out of it on her desk in front of her.

"Castle." She hisses and pulls the candle out before anyone can see what he has done. "I've told you this every year for five years now. Today is not an anniversary." She shoves the candle in her desk drawer and quickly slams it shut, drawing Ryan and Esposito's eyes for a moment. After giving them both a glare that could freeze hell, they quickly turn back to their work and she turns her attention back to him.

He smirks as he sits in his seat at the end of her desk and sips his coffee, surprised she doesn't complain about the decaf. Amused at her reaction to his anniversary present.

"You sure about that?" He teases. She groans.

"Yes, I am quite certain that if today was any kind of anniversary, I would remember it." She knows why he does this every year, and really she thinks it's kind of sweet of him. She thinks he knows she enjoys it as well, and that is why every year he continues to do it, even though she always plays it off.

She also thinks he likes teasing her though, and can't resist the opportunity to watch her blush. Not that she has anything to blush about. But people ask questions, and she still remembers the first year he did it. Ryan and Esposito hadn't let her live it down for an entire month, and they hadn't even gotten any real details.

It's embarrassing when people ask her what they are celebrating, and he knows it. She has never liked her private life broadcast, and his choice of anniversary does just that. The entire precinct certainly has no need to know.

"I don't know whether to be offended or not. I had hoped that you would remember this year." He continues to push the issue and she looks around to see if anyone is listening to their conversation. She knows why he thinks it's an anniversary worth celebrating. But she has managed for five years to keep the exact reason between just them, despite all the questions every year. She has no desire to let it slip now.

"Drop it or I won't let you come with me today." She threatens quietly, picking up a pen and jotting down some notes.

He smirks and sets his coffee cup on the desk. Leaning forward and invading her space he runs his finger along the edge of her hand, where it rests on her desk, at a tantalizingly slow pace.

"Why Detective, I didn't know you were interested." he feigns surprise.

"Oh grow up, you know what I meant." She growls.

"I don't know why it is so hard for you to admit." He sits back and crosses his arms as she sets her pen down and looks at him.

"Because, it's not an anniversary. It's not something people celebrate. You just want an excuse to play." She answers under her breath and picks his coffee up to take a sip. He wondered how long she would last.

"I think we both know I don't need an excuse." He takes his coffee from her and she frowns before picking up her own and swallowing with a grimace as he continues talking. "Maybe I'm just glad it happened? Maybe I think it's important? Don't you?"

"Yes, but that doesn't make it an anniversary." She picks up a stack of papers and organizes them, tapping them on the edge of her desk to align them.

"Must I define anniversary for you?" He asks, clearly exasperated that they are going to have this conversation again. She wants to tell him that he does, just to see if it pisses him off a little. She knows it won't—he loves the sound of his own voice—so instead she takes a different route.

"Do you celebrate the day you started shadowing me, every year?"

He smiles, certain he knows where she is going with her new line of questioning and certain he can derail her new objections just as easily as her old ones.

"No, but maybe we should." She really shouldn't give him more ideas about milestones. Otherwise she could be facing anniversaries like: 'the first time she ordered him to stay in the car' or 'the first time she told him he wasn't allowed in the interrogation room.' Knowing him, he would probably throw in something along the lines of: 'the first time we wore the same color shirt' as well. Really the options were limitless and it would probably be best if she steered him away from topics involving them.

"What about the release of your first book? Do you celebrate that every year?" She knows he doesn't.

"Again no. What do you think you are getting at with this?" He plays along, waiting for her to say something that he can pounce on. Something that will make her whole brilliant plan backfire.

"Simply, that because something happened doesn't mean you memorialize it every year. Anniversaries are for things like marriages." She says as she closes her stack of papers in the appropriate file and digs through more paperwork. It has been stacking up, but they have been overloaded with work. She'll have plenty of time to do paperwork in a few weeks, so she isn't worried about it.

He knows he has her. Marriage... it's too easy. She should really try harder next time. He knows she'll blame the decaf, say she's not awake yet.

"So the joining of two people is worthy of an anniversary but this isn't?" He smirks again. "Because I have to tell you that your definition is a bit-"

"Shut up. Shut up now or you won't live to celebrate this next year." She says as she stands and Montgomery approaches her desk with a file. Castle picks up his coffee cup and hides his amusement behind the rim. He would never push it further than where she wanted to go, but he finds their morning banter enjoyable.

Montgomery gives him a strange look as he leaves and Kate sits back down and puts her head in her hands.

"Do you think he heard our conversation?" She asks, her words garbled by her hands. She really is cute when she gets all flustered and embarrassed, he notes.

"Becks, he has no clue. Your secret is still safe. Though I have to admit it is a little heartbreaking to see the desperation you have about keeping it secret. They all know it happened. I mean, that much is obvious." He smiles glad at the fact that it is so apparent. Every minute of every day.

She sends him a scathing look.

"You know what will make this better?" He asks, fully aware of what her wrath is like at this point. Knowing that his best option is probably just to let it go.

"If you shut up about the mythical anniversary?" She smiles but he can tell her jaw is clenched and she's trying not to grind her teeth in irritation, so he decides to let it slide.

"For now. But I'm not done yet." She rolls her eyes.

He sticks to his word and doesn't bring it up again until lunch, when they are alone in her car after asking some follow up questions, eating hot dogs from a nearby vendor. Then he returns to the interrogation with full force. She doesn't mind when they are alone. He can say whatever he wants to then. And so he does.

He recounts the reasons why he thinks it's worth celebrating and she agrees with him. She doesn't deny that it was a big step.

She remembers it all very well.

She had gotten up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep, five years ago. It had been a common occurrence back then. After her memories came back, her sleep had been erratic and unpredictable. When she did sleep, it was only in short spurts and so light that even the slightest noise could jar her from it.

It didn't help that she was wrapped in his blankets, staring at his ceiling, her body aching with more than just the remnants of her injuries.

She had planned on breaking the news to him the next day. She couldn't stay with him any longer. She was well enough to be on her own. Should be on her own and have their lives and relationship return to normal. He saw too much of her. They had become too comfortable with each other. His bold moves of only a few days previous, had proved that to her.

What she needed was to move out and get back to work. To put the shooting behind her. Not to sit around his apartment all day wasting time with him, and having his constant closeness pick at every last one of her nerves and reserves. What she needed was space, and he needed it too. Even if he didn't want to admit it.

So after an hour of watching the shadows dance on his ceiling, she slipped quietly from his warm bed and crept down to the kitchen. She told herself that she wasn't lonely. Wasn't secretly hoping he would still be awake on the fold out bed in the living room so she didn't have to sit in the dark by herself. Even if it was three am. No, what she told herself was that there was leftover cherry pie in the fridge and that she simply had a case of the midnight munchies.

Her hand gripping the railing, her bare feet light on the cold stairs, she slid like a ghost in the night down to the main floor and paused. For a minute, as the cold night air blew against her bare legs, she thought of retreating back up the stairs.

What if he was awake? He would certainly mock her for coming downstairs in nothing but an over-sized t-shirt. His in fact. Why had she let that fact slip her mind? Up to this point she had been so careful about it. Even if he had seen most of her naked skin by then, she still felt strangely shy about her lack of leg covering.

Who did she think she was kidding? She didn't want pie. She wanted his voice to soothe her troubled mind. She wanted to accidentally fall asleep against him. To know he had her back while she slept. A somewhat troubling development or side effect of her memories coming back, was the knowledge that it had been entirely out of her control. She wasn't good with that, never had been. It made her overly cautious. Overly protective. And it had her jumping at small things, and unable to stay asleep.

A problem his presence some how eradicated.

Still, she felt foolish for becoming so needy. The shame burning her ears, she turned to return up the stairs but a muffled moan from where Castle slept had her pause.

He tossed in his sleep and she remained frozen, afraid that one slight movement would cause him to come awake fully and catch her.

'No.' He moaned again and curiosity won out. She tiptoed softly to the couch, peering over the back at him as he slept.

His face was drawn tightly, brow furrowed in what appeared to be concern. He slept on his side, his knees drawn up slightly.

'Don't.' His hand clawed tightly at the sheet that tangled between his legs as they tried to kick free.

She was torn between waking him from an obviously unpleasant dream and making her escape while she still could. He would wake on his own eventually, wouldn't he?

She didn't want to be cruel, but she also didn't want to explain why she was downstairs watching him sleep like an obsessed stalker. So she turned her back to the couch and lifted her foot to take a step away.

'Don't leave.' It was murmured softly, more coherently than his other exclamations. She froze.

Had he caught her? Had he woken up? She was afraid to look.

Slowly she turned her head and cast a look over her shoulder at him.

His eyes were still closed tightly. She sighed in relief and started for the stairs, trying to put distance between them as quickly as she could.

'Kate! Stay!' He yelled. 'Don't you dare!'

It was fear that he would wake the entire building up that had her run back to his side. Not the obvious anguish in his cries. And why the hell hadn't he told her about the nightmares? She wouldn't have made fun of him. She wouldn't have thought he was less. They were normal after that kind of trauma.

Her hands landed on his shoulders as she knelt lightly on the bed next to him.

'It's ok. It's just a dream. Wake up.' She prompted softly as she shook him lightly. 'It's me. It's Kate. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere.' She murmured, not paying attention to her word choice.

His hands shot up, wrapped around her back and pulled her tightly to him as he rolled onto his back fully. Her knees gave out and she crashed down, laying flat against him as his almost violent reaction sent a wave of pain through her. She gasped, air rushing into her lungs through her open mouth mere moments away from his.

His eyes opened and locked with hers in the darkness. Her hurried breath rushed against his lips as her pain shifted to something else.

She could see it, even in the dark. Could feel it in the way he held her close, now fully awake.

'Sorry.' He mumbled his breath warm against her lips. 'Sorry.'

'Ddd...don't be.' She stumbled and swallowed, trying to wet her dry throat. Heat burning her cheeks.

Alive.

Her skin itched as a warm familiar feeling settled low in her body. She shifted her weight slightly, squirming against him, one leg settling between his legs. Her shirt had ridden up in the tussle and the cold night air kissed her right side, black boyshorts on full display.

His hands wandered down her back, thumbs finding naked skin as they traveled over her hips and back up. Slowly, painfully aware of just how close she was. How close he wanted her. How he could smell just the slightest hint of cherries, tainted with something more.

'You should be sleeping.' Her hands were trapped against his chest, she wanted them free to explore, but the way his fingers toyed with the edge of her underwear was too intoxicating to protest. His body's warmth too comforting to move away from. The soft rumble of his voice vibrating through her chest. The way his gaze lingered on her lips.

'Why didn't you tell me about the nightmares?' She asked as she accidentally rubbed her nose against his cheek. She was playing with fire. The way her soft breasts cushioned her body against his, her short little breaths felt through his whole body, ricocheting through the emptiness. Happy little bullets of pleasure that breathed life back into him.

'It isn't a big deal. Why didn't you tell me this would feel so...' He paused.

'Amazing.' She mumbled against his lips, her mouth falling open as she continued to pant softly. Heating his lips and begging for a response.

'Life affirming.' His tongue brushing her top lip, slipping into her open mouth and darting back out as he emphasized his first word.

'Castle.' She moaned and shifted against him. He grunted sharply jerking his hips against her in response. 'Shut up and kiss me.' She hissed and closed her mouth around his top lip, nibbling lightly.

Flipping her on her back, he rolled on top of her and feasted on her lips. She cried out in momentary pain and surprise as more pressure was placed on her injuries, her lips breaking from his for a second.

He tried to retreat but she wrapped her arms and legs around him, pulling him back. Capturing his mouth again and slipping her hands under his shirt.

'Don't want to hurt you.' He objected against her mouth. She smiled.

'I won't break.' She scraped her nails down his back, slid her hands under his sleep pants and pulled him flush with her again. His added weight a delightful pressure in counterpoint to the dull ache in her back. 'See.' She whispered in his ear then caught his earlobe between her teeth as she rocked against him.

'Isn't this what you were trying to do the other day?' She questioned as his lips moved against her neck. 'Trying to make me feel something?'

Meeting her eyes with an evil grin, he removed her wandering hands from his pants and came to his knees. Her legs still wrapped around him she pulled herself closer until she was flat against his knees then let her feet rest on the bed on either side of him. Her shimmy down the bed had caused her shirt to ride up even more and Castle wasted no time in yanking it over her head and tossing it across the room. Running his hands over her stomach, up her sides, teasing the sides of her breasts, and enjoying the unobstructed view.

'Is it working?' He questioned then leaned over and kissed her chest, right above her racing heart. Her fingers tangled in his hair.

'I don't know.' She grunted as he sucked on her skin. 'Try again.'

'Why...' He paused to punctuate his words with kisses. 'Detective Beckett.' His lips working their way back to her mouth. 'This doesn't seem like...' Her tongue against his distracted him for a minute.

'...appropriate behavior.' He finished after a moment. One hand on the bed on either side of her head, her hair a tangled mess under her and between his fingers. Soft locks that tickled his skin.

She pushed lightly against his chest and he sat back on his knees. Locking her arms around his neck she followed him and landed in his lap. Relinquishing him of his shirt, she pressed their bare skin together and he groaned. His hands spread on her back holding her close but avoiding her injury.

'Well, writer boy...' She whispered as her hands ran down his back and up again. 'You can think of it as physical therapy.' She kissed her way across his collarbone and back up his neck to his other ear. 'You touch me and make me feel something...' He groaned as her tongue traced circles against the sensitive skin behind his ear. '...and I'll touch you and make you numb.'

And so he had. That night and many more after.

Which is why she thinks it's silly that he celebrates that night every year.

Especially when he gives her grief about remembering their real anniversary.

Sure the road hadn't been smooth sailing, and there had been a lot of adjustment needed on both their lives before they found compromises that worked. She had even moved out a time or two along the way. But that night had been the beginning of a new relationship between them. It hadn't ended in any confessions or declarations of love—those came later. It had ended up in his bed, together. Just as the next morning had started.

"You know what I think, darling?" He smiles, he's not allowed to use that word at the precinct. She's very strict on her rules. Once he called her Kate at work and she made him sleep on the couch that night. So he delights in using all those terms he can't use in public when they are alone on a case.

"Hmmm?" She is distracted by something in the file on the seat between them, so he picks up the file and tosses it in the backseat. "Hey!" She tries to reach for it but he grabs her arm and laces his fingers through hers to keep her from trying to retrieve the file again.

"Fine." She rolls her eyes. "What do you think?"

"I think we should go someplace private and celebrate." He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and she laughs and looks down. Directing his eyes to her swollen stomach.

He smiles. Takes great pride in knowing that someday soon Alexis will have a sibling.

"I think we already did." She pats him lightly on the cheek. "Besides honey," She uses the term sarcastically. "...every part of me aches. Which is your fault as well. I swear if this kid doesn't come soon..."

He rubs his thumb against her hand and leans in to place a kiss on her cheek, then whispers:

"I'll make a deal with you... You touch me and make me feel something, and I'll touch you and make you numb."

"I really hate you some times, Rick." She murmurs as she turns her head and lets him kiss her soundly.

"Liar." He smiles then whispers. "Happy Anniversary."

"Happy Anniversary." She smirks. They aren't that far from the loft, and he's right. It is a special day. Why not?

"You have half an hour."

He figures if he gets her inside quickly he can talk her into twice that.

"Why Detective, we best hurry then."

Rolling her eyes she turns the key and they head home.