"Katie, who's your friend?"

Castle nearly spits out his drink at the appearance of Kate's father, who's waiting for them as they turn away from the bar, delectable whiskeys in hand.

Damn, he should've asked for a shot, too.

Kate rolls her eyes and shoots him a look - Jesus, get it together - and turns back to her dad, smiling that full-watt grin that Sofia shares. "Hi Dad," she says softly, laying a hand on the older man's shoulder before pressing a kiss to his cheek. "This is Richard Castle, the civilian investigator who shadows me at the precinct."

"The famous Castle. I've heard a lot about you, son," Jim says, offering out his hand.

Castle accepts it firmly, cocking his head. "You have?" He whips his head to Kate, a smirk slowly creeping onto his features. "He has?"

Kate scoffs. "May have mentioned you once or twice. Don't let it go to your head."

"Too late," Castle jokes.

"I haven't had the pleasure of reading your work, Mr. Castle, but my wife always loved your books."

What? Kate never -

She never told him that.

He feels her go still beside him and he can't bear to look to take a glimpse, to see the strain on her face that must be there right now. He swallows hard. "Thank you, sir. I'm honored. She sounded like an incredible woman, so that," he breaks off, takes a breath, "that means a lot to me," he finishes quietly.

Jim's gaze flits between the two of them and Castle knows he can tell that something's a little off, that maybe Kate was keeping that intimate little detail from Castle for a reason. "Anyway, I just came up for a glass of soda water and wanted to introduce myself," he says hesitantly. "Katie, I've got an early morning tomorrow. Heading up to the cabin with Walt for the rest of the weekend."

She smiles. "Come say goodbye before you leave?"

Her dad smiles. "Will do." He turns back to Castle. "It was nice to meet you, Mr. Castle. Maybe the two of us can get a cup of coffee sometime soon? I'd love to hear how my daughter's treating you."

Castle laughs. "She treats me well, sir, but coffee sounds great."

Jim nods. "Good. When I get back next week, I'll get your number from Katie."

"Sounds like a plan."

Jim resumes his path to the bar, squeezing Kate's shoulder as he passes. "Have fun, honey."

"Thanks, Dad."

Castle opens his mouth, desperate to ask her about what Jim said, but Kate cuts him off. "I think they're getting ready to serve dinner. Shall we?" Her smile is a little forced, he thinks.

She's not ready to talk about it.

"Uh, sure." He follows her back to their table, can't help but notice the way she holds the tension in her shoulders as she walks. He wishes she'd let him press his fists there, or the pads of his thumbs, and smooth it all away.

But if he can't, maybe the alcohol will ebb some of it away. Or maybe some talking. They should probably do at least a little bit of talking -

He'd hate to think he's the only one who feels the equilibrium slowly shifting between them.

"What's for dinner?" he asks as they find their seats again.

"It's five courses, I think. Main dish is salmon."

Castle wrinkles his nose. Salmon's not his favorite, but he's starving, so anything will do. He takes a long gulp of his whiskey sour, relishes the way the bite of the liquor slides down the back of his throat. Better already.

He glances over at his partner, who stares down at her glass as she traces the rim with the tips of her fingers. "You okay?" he asks her.

Her head snaps up. "What?" She shakes her head. "Oh, I'm fine. Just a lot on my mind." She shrugs it off, brings the alcohol to her lips and swigs down a few sips.

Riiiiight.

Kate doesn't know the last time she was so relieved to see a plate of food appear in front of her. She's no stranger to ignoring a hunger pang or two with long hours at the precinct, but she's in need of a reprieve from the Castle Inquisition.

In fairness to him, he hasn't truly been annoying or persistent - at least not verbally, other than the one question - but he doesn't need to be. It's in his posture, the way he nurses his drink, and the stare that burns a hole through the side of her head when he thinks she's not paying attention.

But she's always paying attention. Maybe she wasn't before but ever since Coonan -

She hasn't stopped paying attention.

She wants to tell him the story of her mother and his books, but she knows she won't be able to ignore the little ignition of whatever between them if she tells him. If she tells him how much he meant to her mother, how much his books mean to her, too.

How much he means to her.

She wakes up drenched nearly every morning now, images of him bloody and lifeless seared in her brain, nightmares so real she can touch them with her fingers. She reaches for her phone just as often, finds his number and hovers over it before she changes her mind.

She never stops being relieved to see him greet her at a scene, to put the nightmares back to bed until the next time.

There's always a next time.

"God, that was incredible," Castle moans, polishing off his last bite of the final course, a delectable creme brulee. "Does this mean there won't be wedding cake?" he asks, crestfallen.

Kate laughs. "There's cake, Castle. Though I doubt either of them will shove it into the other's face - "

"Well, that's no fun."

"Tell me about it."

Castle taps his fingers against the table. "So what now, detective?"

She smiles. Always the impatient man. "They have their first dance and then I let you convince me to spin me around the floor for awhile."

Castle beams. "I think I can get onboard with that."

"I thought you might."

They chat idly until the DJ announces the couple's first dance. Kate is pleasantly surprised by how understated and sweet it is. She assumed it would be be some kind of intense choreographed waltz that they'd spent hours and fistfuls of money on.

But their dance is quiet and lovely, a song that Kate's never heard of, but one that clearly means everything to them. She catches Sofia's eye for a brief moment when the music crescendos and the depth of the emotion that lingers there seizes her insides.

Kate's never been in much of a hurry to find someone and settle down - she still isn't, really - but it's moments like these that remind her how lonely it can get sometimes, to go home to an empty apartment, to live with life's burden bearing all its weight, without anyone to shoulder it alongside her.

Though Castle's been doing a hell of a job of that, lately.

And she'd be lying if she said she didn't imagine going home with him sometimes, that he's been making more and more appearances lately not just in her bed, but beside her on the couch, at the table with her in the kitchen, walking beside her at the grocery store, pressed against her in the shower with tangled fingers.

She can't get him out.

"Shall we dance, Beckett?" Castle grins at her, offering his hand.

It's now or never.

"Let's do it, Castle."

She lets him lead her out onto the floor as Fred Astaire's voice sweeps through the hall. Kate has to suppress a smirk as Castle fumbles awkwardly for a second, unsure with what to do with his hands. She squeezes his fingers briefly in an attempt to calm him and he shoots her a sheepish grin before placing his palm on her hip and locking his other hand in hers. She lays a hand on his shoulder, but everything inside of her wants to close the respectable distance between them.

Argh. Everything's driving her crazy today.

"Did I mention how wonderful you look tonight?" Castle murmurs. Oh, but she can get used to hearing that.

Kate ducks her head, a blush steadily creeping into her features. "Thank you, Castle."

She allows herself to lean in an inch or two, nudging his hand to slide from her hip to the curve in her spine. He looks at her curiously, a sarcastic, suggestive comment no doubt rolling on his tongue, but he surprises her, closing his mouth on a pleased little smile.

Well, at least she has a pretty good idea about where his head is at in all of this.

He starts to hum along to the music then and if he wasn't so adorable, she'd think him one of the most insufferable men she's ever met.

There's a fine line, one he's come so close to breaching more times than she can count. Still, there's just something about him that keeps him from toppling over it, something that's taken her far too long to put her finger on -

His heart.

"Castle, I wanna tell you something," she starts softly.

"Beckett?" he asks, frowning in concern.

She steadies herself, hand clenched a little tighter in his. "Earlier my dad mentioned - "

He shakes his head. "Kate, you don't have - "

"I want to," she cuts him off. "Castle, I want to." She sighs. "I thought about telling you, you know, not only about her, but me too," she pauses. "But when we first met, I thought you were so unbelievably arrogant and I didn't want to give you the satisfaction."

She expects him to look wounded, but he's battling a grin. Of course. He knows it.

"I still don't," she shoots him a look, "but I don't see you that way anymore. You're not the man I thought you were."

Now he looks wounded.

"You're better." His eyes snap to hers and the burn of his steady gaze is too much. She ducks her head, her lip caught beneath the tug of her teeth. "I'm not the one who's extraordinary, Castle. You are." She sucks in a breath, finds his eyes again. "And as it turns out, my mother figured that out a hell of a long time before I did."

"How much have you had to drink?" he rasps.

She shrugs. "Enough to do this." She steps into the heat of his body even further, slips her hand from his to join the other at his shoulders.

"Katherine Beckett, what's gotten into you," he murmurs in astonishment.

"Getting my feet wet, Castle. You coming with me?" she asks, tentative fingers smudging the nape of his neck.

His mouth falls onto hers on a body-wracking shudder.

Round four: It's all over.

Complete. Thanks for reading!

xo,

Liv