Happy Castle Fanfic Monday - Tuesday Edition! Enjoy!

Two Steps Forward: Making the Leap

All day long, her heart flutters, anticipating the moment her shift ends and she's able to make good on her invitation of dinner. Her reservations are for seven; it means they have a couple of hours to kill between work and dinner, but she had wanted to give herself enough time to go home and change into something appropriate, something date-like. Castle has seen her at her worst - more often and more recently than she would like - and tonight she wants him to see her at her best.

So of course things start to go sideways around four-fifteen. They don't catch a new case, but they get a hit on an older open case, and Gates orders them – her – to stay until she knows whether it's a false alarm or a good tip.

As the clock ticks past five and onward to six, then six-thirty, her heart sinks. They aren't going to make it. She's not going to be able to go home and change into the soft blue dress she's been envisioning wearing for this since the idea had come to her. They aren't going to make their reservation; the place is halfway across town and there's no way she'll be finished in time to even drive there at breakneck speeds.

"I'm sorry, Castle," she murmurs, looking up as he sits once more. He's returned with full coffee mugs for them both, but instead of being happy for the pick me up, it just serves as a reminder to her that they're not getting out of here anytime soon.

Her partner cocks his head. "For what?"

Beckett gestures around, pointing out the metal desks and the still-bustling bullpen. "Plans… falling through?"

"It's not your fault. Unless you were that desperate to get out of a date with me, in which case, shame shame, Beckett."

Her cheeks burn. A date. They're trying to go on a date. If only the universe would just cooperate. "Yes, Castle, I was so desperate to get out of something I invited you to just a few hours ago, I faked new information for an old case. Sounds exactly like me."

"Well, when you put it that way…" He grins, leaning back in his chair. "I mean it, though. You don't have to apologize because something came up."

Maybe not, but dinner – the whole damn day - is supposed to mean something. She's supposed to be showing him she's ready, solved case or no, and here they are being waylaid by another case.

"I know, I just… plans."

Castle nods, cocking his head. "What would you like? We'll call the restaurant and I'll go pick up our order. We can eat in the conference room while we go over everything again."

Oh, he's sweet. He's so ridiculously sweet to offer, but they both know her disappointment isn't about the food they'd been intending to try.

Kate shakes her head, lowering her voice to avoid being overheard. "Why don't we order something closer tonight and save the restaurant for another time?"

Castle brightens at that, at the knowledge that there will be another time for them to have that dinner.

"In that case, might I suggest another of our staples?"

She nods, stopping him with a hand on his wrist before he can reach for his phone. "Sounds good, but I'll call. This is my treat."

His pulse jumps under her fingers, but her partner simply hums, leaving his phone – and her hand – where it is. "By all means, Kate, treat me."

At just after ten, she closes the last of the files and scrapes a hand through her hair, a grunt spilling from her lips. Frustration simmers in her blood; they found nothing to corroborate the tip they'd received, which means their evening has been a complete bust. They're no closer to finding their killer than they were a day ago.

"Come on, Castle," she murmurs finally, exiting her email and sending her computer to standby for the night. "Let's get out of here."

"Heading home?" he asks, slipping her coat from the back of her chair and holding it out for her the moment he gets to his feet. He's trying for nonchalance, but the fumble of his fingers gives him away.

It would be easy to say yes, to call it a day and try this entire thing again another day, but no. She won't.

"We could take a walk?" she suggests instead, watching startled delight spread across his features. He had been expecting her to take the easy way out, no doubt. "It's not too cold, I think."

"I'd love to," he answers without hesitation, offering his arm. "Shall we?"

At first, they stroll in silence, letting the noise of the city do the talking for them. It's comfortable, calming, just to be there with him. It solidifies her confidence that they can be more than a spark on a dark night that's brilliant but ultimately fleeting.

They really can work. They already do.

"Kate," he rumbles a few blocks later, tilting his face toward hers. Her steps falter at the tenderness in his gaze, the hope in the cobalt depths of his eyes. "Thanks."

"For what?" she asks, blinking in surprise. He's thanking her? Why?

"Today."

"Making you skip a nice dinner to do paperwork?" she teases, forcing the words past the squeeze of her throat.

Her partner shakes his head.

"Trust me, I've had worse evenings."

Her cheeks heat at the sincerity in his voice. The promise in his words. He really means that.

She clears her throat, pulling a deep breath into her lungs. "Well, it's nice to rank higher than the night you almost burned your face off trying to fry a turkey."

Castle laughs, bumping her shoulder with his. "As if there was any competition there."

She snickers, allowing herself to give in, to list into his side and borrow his warmth. "Hmm, wait and see, you might still come home with only one eyebrow."

"Why, Detective Beckett, what are you going to do to me?"

Standing this close to him, there's no disguising the shiver that travels down her spine at the thought of all the things she wants to do to him.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she manages, lifting her chin to offer what she hopes to be a smirk.

"Desperately," he says, catching her hip with a gentle hand. Her breath hitches at the care in the touch, the assurance.

Teasing lilt to his voice or not, he really means that, too.

Courage surges in her chest; they can do this. She can do this.

"Okay," she says, lifting her hand to touch his collar, to brush her knuckles against the column of his throat. He swallows hard, but doesn't speak. In fact, he barely moves, as if he's afraid to break the spell they're falling under.

"Last year," she starts, slipping her fingers into his hair, the silky strands caressing her skin. This time her partner's the one who shivers, who leans into her. "We never talked about last year."

Castle gives a slow nod, flexing his fingers on her hip. "No, we didn't. We haven't talked about a lot of things."

There's no accusation there, only a statement of fact. They aren't good at talking. Fighting, dancing a waltz around the issues and the things they really want from one another, yes, but not talking.

His eyes flutter shut as her thumb slips over the shell of his ear, only to pop back open at the gentle press of her mouth to his. The promise she's offering him.

"Kate-"

"Let's talk now," she whispers, painting his lips with her breath, her hope. She lists into him, brushing her nose against his. "Late, I know. Really late. But better late than never, right? Let's talk now, Rick."

His mouth lands hard against hers, stealing her words from her lips with a gentle swipe of his tongue. Soft fingers comb through her hair, holding her close, steadying her as her knees wobble, weakening with want.

"I'd like that," he says, thumbing the back of her head as they catch their breath. "Or you could take me home and show me instead."

He's trying to play it cool, but she hears the rough catch to his voice, the desire that bleeds into each and every word. The same desire that surges through her limbs, pumps beneath her skin.

A year ago he kissed her for the first time, and while they pretended nothing had happened, it had served to loosen more of the bricks in the wall she had built inside after her mother died. A year later, she had planned an entire night to show them both that she's been putting in the work, that she's dismantling the barriers between them, only to have him crash through and join her on the other side without her realizing.

And now they have their chance. She has her chance. She can take him home and tell him everything, show him everything.

Heart beating wildly in her chest, she takes his hand and steps over the rubble of her wall to do just that.

(They do talk eventually, as their blood sings and sweat cools on their bodies, but they both know the words are secondary to the extraordinary leap they've just made.)

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope part two lived up to expectations! And Happy Birthday, Andrea. Thank you for prompting this story from the beginning!