He walked. Castle ignored the street, ignored the pedestrians and the traffic. He put one foot in front of the other and tried to tell himself that this was exactly the outcome he'd been pushing for. This had been his plan all along. He'd meant to snap her out of it, and with a return to reality would come Kate's backing out of the wedding, of course. Of course.

He snorted. What wedding? It would've been a civil service before a judge, hastily arranged and thrown together by his daughter and his mother. It wasn't anything like what he'd imagined, nothing close to what she deserved. He wanted to overwhelm her when he finally got her down the aisle.

Get real. He'd never get her down the aisle. This was Kate Beckett. He'd kidnap her Sunday night, put her on a plane, and deliver her to DC and Jordan Shaw's capable hands. He'd make sure she got to that interview, and the next one, and then he'd be the dutiful partner and be her backup, whatever she decided. He knew she'd go with the FBI. He knew that.

She'd be in Quantico for training. 20 weeks training, he knew, because he'd done that research for a book. He wondered if he could survive 20 weeks without seeing her, talking to her. . .

He could. He could do it. He'd do a book signing. Maybe he could get her to arrange it so that her new agent training occurred during the summer, when he was promoting the new Nikki Heat. Maybe he really *would* end up writing Federal Heat. This could be a good thing. He tried to convince himself of that.

She wasn't coming after him.

Rick stopped at the next block. He was at 40th and the Port Authority. The glass and steel rose up above him, a saucer of transportation, and people were pushing, crowding him; he had to stand his ground to keep from getting caught up in the swell of people.

Maybe she *had* come after him, but couldn't find him in the rush.

Wishful thinking of course.

His phone vibrated; he took a deep breath, closed his fist around it. He looked up, past the people, searching for sky. He'd have to call Alexis. His mother. He'd have to call Kate's father as well, explain himself, explain what he'd done. Would the man understand? Or would he think that Castle was playing around? Shit. He had a mess here. Better own up to it, Castle.

This would have to be Alexis. Wanting to know when to expect them. How was he going to explain this to his daughter? She might have a really reasonable head on her shoulders, be super mature, but at heart, she was a little girl who hadn't ever had a real mother. And Kate. . .Castle sighed, opened his fist to look at his phone. It was a text.

From Kate.

Don't you dare walk out on me.

Castle stared at it. Blinked.

For half a second, he thought, I can't do this.

But it was Kate. So he started walking. Back. Always back to her.

Kate Beckett was pissed. Scared, yes, but pissed. Pissed was easier. She reveled in the anger, ignored the fear. As always.

She'd uttered two words, confessed two words to him, and he'd left her. As she always feared he would. She'd have to train him to ignore that instinct. She had just had her entire life ripped out from under her, and he wanted her to be perfect, to not say the wrong thing when she panicked? Well, he had another thing coming. She wasn't perfect; she was good at being alone. This?

This was how things worked for her. He'd have to accept it.

Kate stalked the sidewalk outside the laundromat, waiting for him to read that text and get his ass back over here. She knew he would, too. She wasn't afraid of that. Not at all. If anything, *that* made her more afraid. That she had this power over him. That she whistled and he came. That he was that caught up in her.

Still. She was whistling.

And he came. Castle was walking, but it was swift. Like he might break out into a run at any second. She crossed her arms in the middle of the sidewalk, let people flow around her, stared him down until he caught sight of her.

Castle stopped dead. Jerked as someone plowed right into him, stuttering forward a little with momentum, an arm swinging, and then he was only ten feet from her. He'd come this whole way at her whistle. Only fair she took the last ten feet.

Kate uncrossed her arms and started forward, keeping her eyes on him. She saw him gulp, shove his hands in his pockets; she saw resolution settle in his spine. He lifted his chin and watched her with his own frown.

"What the hell was that, Castle?" she said, shoving him when she got close enough.

"Ow," he whined, rubbing at his chest.

"I didn't hurt you," she scoffed and stepped closer. They were blocking traffic on the sidewalk, people jostling them into each other.

Castle pitched forward as one aggressive pedestrian pushed past him; she caught him with both hands, steadied him, then decided she liked where her hands were, kept them on his biceps. His arms were stronger than she expected, every time. He had to weightlift, had to, with that kind of muscle tone. Distracting is what it was.

"Castle, you can't run away from me every time I say something you don't like. You ass."

He actually laughed, cupping her elbows to keep her in front of him. "My bad."

"More than your bad, Castle. That was childish. Although why I expected anything more from you, I don't know-"

"Okay, all right. Tone it down, Beckett." He stepped closer under the guise of being pushed into her (yes, she saw through that) and leaned close enough to warn her that he was going to kiss her. "But I'm glad you're back."

She only had half a second to wonder what that meant before Castle's mouth was covering hers, warm, soft, rich. She breathed slowly, stepped in a little closer, let herself open to him. The way he tasted, the way he worked his mouth over hers, the insistent press of his fingers at her elbows, all of it washed her clean of fear, of anger, of anything other than him.

Castle broke it off just when she was ready to risk public indecency, pulled back from her, only to come back and lean his forehead against hers. "So you won't marry me?"

She shivered, brought both hands up to cup his face and bring him in for another kiss. But he resisted.

"Kate."

She settled for kissing his jaw, pressing his cheek to her own. "I asked you, Castle. First."

"And then you said you couldn't." He rubbed his hands up and down her back, slowly. "So now I'm asking you."

She said the first thing that came to her. Trying to save this. "If you're asking me, Castle, then it's yes."

"How come I don't believe that, Kate?"

"I don't know. Maybe because I scared the shit out of you by being honest, both times, and now you think that those two things are mutually exclusive."

"And they're not?"

"They're not."

"So what does this mean?"

"This means that I want to marry you. . .oh shit, that sounds strange. . ." She laughed and removed her hands from his face to press her palms against her own cheeks, realizing she was blushing. "That sounds strange, but-" Kate shrugged.

"That doesn't sound reassuring."

"Let me finish, Castle. But as strange as it is, as much as I've got to get used to that, it's still true."

He dropped his hands, but didn't step away. She thought that was maybe a step in the right direction.

Finally, Castle took a deep breath and nodded. "All right. So. You're not marrying me today, but some day?"

She was about to say, Yes of course, but she happened to catch the look in his eyes before she could open her mouth. He looked desolate, despite the hunger with which he'd kissed her only seconds ago. Hunger born of desperation, she realized. She was hurting him still. It was the last thing she wanted to do.

"Rick."

He looked back to her, steel in his eyes to guard his heart. Had she done that to him? So fast. Maybe she had been doing it to him for years. . .

"Not today."

She saw it; oh God, she saw it die in his eyes as he turned his face away again. Kate stepped closer and hooked her fingers in his belt, hoping that an unexpected move from her might shake him out of it.

"Set a date, Castle."

He didn't say anything.

She tugged him closer, stepped between his legs so she could feel the heat of him. "Castle. Set a date. I'll show up."

"Set a date." He blinked slowly, raised his hands to cradle her face. "A wedding date?"

"What else?"

"Kate," he hedged, his eyes intense on hers. "Kate, don't do this to me again."

She swallowed against that wound and pressed a gentle, soft kiss to his cheek. "Get me a ring, Castle. I'll show up."

"Promise?"

"Always."