FINAL CHAPTER *angelic music*

A/N: If I owned Castle I would be rich, not working and student loan free. I'm broke, working tomorrow and my next student loan payment comes out of my bank account tomorrow too. So yeah, I don't own Castle.

That box.

Rick decides to utilise the one strategy that's helped him in life. Deny everything. "What box?"

"The box that looks oddly like the one that I keep under my couch. Hidden under my couch. Castle! You didn't!" Kate leans over and plucks the box from off the floor, not an easy task for someone with a hole in their chest. "You did!"

"I thought…I mean…you…" Dammit. Stupid impulsiveness. Stupid idea. She's probably going to throw him out just for misusing her 'emergency' key. God knows what she'll do for just touching her hidden box. He is so dead.

He's internally bracing himself for an onslaught of words or possibly a slap. If he outwardly braces for impact Kate will know he knows he's in trouble so if there ever was a time to use his poker face, it's now. But after a few moments of silence and Castle's failing poker face, Kate breaks out into a surprising smile. She picks up the album with the number twelve on it and opens it carefully.

"It's okay Rick. You know, I'd forgotten how many photos I'd taken." She laughs as she pulls out a photo to show him. "I was twelve and my mom and I went strawberry picking. We came home and she tried to make strawberry jam. It turned out horrible; it was too runny and the strawberries were lumpy but we used it all up. Every single last bit. I was eating jam sandwiches everyday for a week."

Rick takes the photo from her. It's of Kate and her mom, and they're holding up a largeish preserving jar with the words "STRAWBERRY JAM" carefully printed on it. Behind them is a mass of pots and pans and...is that a fire extinguisher? Despite the mess, they're both grinning broadly.

"You look like her you know." He says, handing it back.

Kate takes the photo back, still smiling, "You think?" It's possibly one of the nicest things she's ever heard.

"Yeah," Rick leans forward and his back lets out a loud crack. "These chairs are amazing. You know, I think it's realigned my spine. Horizontally."

Kate laughs but after seeing what's on the next page, she quickly flips over it. She guiltily glances up at Rick to see if he saw what she's trying to hide.

"And what have we here?"

Damn.

"Kate go back!"

"No way! You missed it. Too bad."

Rick pouts. "Go back."

"No."

"Pleaseee."

"No!"

"Well then, you don't get to see your other present."

"Other...present?" Kate says, looking over the side of her bed. Nothing. Too late, she realises she's been had.

While she's briefly occupied, Rick quickly flips back a page and sees what Kate is trying to hide so badly.

"Castle! No!"

"So this is you as Gene Simmons." He says, grinning at her blushing face. "I like the tongue."

Kate snatches the album from out of his reach. "Shut up. The next time I see Martha I might just ask to see the photos of you as Gene Simmons."

His face pales slightly as he remembers the many, many, many photos of that particular Halloween costume. His mother still has them too, hidden somewhere. They've made an appearance once or twice for blackmail purposes only.

"That's what I thought." Kate says smugly, flipping through a few more pages. This is nice; taking trips down memory lane. It's helping to take her mind of everything else for the time being.

"You know," Rick says, twisting in his seat uncomfortably, "you should get some of these chairs for the precinct. Suspects will be lining up to be put in the holding cells." He shifts again, trying to get some feeling back into his ass. "I don't know how I've managed to be sitting in it for so long with breaking something important."

"You can sit here." Kate says, without missing a beat. The words are out before she can grab them and stuff them back in her mouth.

Rick almost very nearly chokes on his own spit and it's not entirely out of shock. He's often dreamed of being invited into Kate Beckett's bed. But not like this. Not like this.

Kate sees his doubt and shuffles over as gently as she can without winding herself, "You can't hurt me."

Oh god. Rick gulps a little and gingerly perches next to Kate, almost too afraid to sit properly on the bed. He's not a large man but the bed certainly seems smaller now he's sitting on it. There's little room and the last thing he wants is for Kate to fall off, so he instinctively he puts his arm around her waist. His touch is surprisingly reassuring so Kate leans into him and rests her head on his shoulder. This is new. Very new. It's a startling new level of intimacy for them both but they're sitting together like it's the most natural thing in the world.

For the next twenty minutes they stay like that, looking at Kate's old photos, laughing, sharing memories and generally forgetting the approaching storm. Which is approaching fast. A storm that is carrying lightning and thunder and hail and rain in it's wake. But that's not important now.

"I heard it you know." Kate says suddenly, as she lifts her head off his shoulder and turns her head to look at him.

"Hmm? Heard what?" Rick's only half listening. He's noticed the picture she's holding is the one of them at the Christmas party. And he's just noticed that in the picture his hand around her shoulder is not around her shoulder. Or even at the small of her back.

In fact it kind of looks like his hand is on her butt. Oh wow. His hand is on her butt.

"I heard what you said. At the funeral. Before…before I – "

Now Rick's fully listening. He doesn't care about drunk hand placements or photographic proof or even what's going to happen to him when Kate looks at the picture properly. Suddenly nothing really matters. Also, he's back holding his breath. He's not sure he even remembers what breathing is, let alone how to convert oxygen to carbon dioxide.

"I heard it. What you said. And I – I mean…we…you and I - " God, she can't even say it. Everything is just a bit overwhelming. That's a lie. If she didn't hurt in about fifty different places she'd be up and running as far away as she could go. Her brain is yelling all sorts of profanities at her right now. Words are not forming coherent sentences. She probably looks like a flailing fish while her brain goes into panic mode.

But she's looking at him. Really looking at him.

And he knows what she's trying to say.

Sometimes two people have a moment. Just one. If they grab that moment they can be set alight and their fire can burn forever. If they miss it, they can fizzle out and leave behind a life time of if only's.

This is their moment.

And they both know it too.

Somehow the gap between them sort of gets smaller. A lot smaller.

If you asked Kate, she'd tell you Rick moved closer first. If you asked Rick he'd tell you Kate moved closer first. If you asked Lanie, she'd smirk and cross her arms knowingly. If you asked Ryan or Esposito, they'd both look somewhat sick and avoid the question.

Regardless of whom you asked the outcome is the same each and every time Lanie forces them to re tell the story.

One minute they're looking at each other, very intently.

And the next the gap between them is gone and their lips are touching. They're kissing. Again.

It's not like their undercover kiss; full of lust and desire, it's softer, gentler and chaste but with just a much meaning, much more feeling and emotion behind it. And this time they're not going to brush it under the rug and pretend it didn't happen. It's happening alright.

Kate pulls away first, blushing slightly.

"That," Rick says quietly, resting his forehead on hers, "was the best I love you too. Ever."

Kate rolls her eyes, but she's not serious, her point was clearly made and it was a pretty decent kiss - just behind their 'undercover' one, but she'll never admit that out loud - and puts her head back on his shoulder. It's nice in a weird way how her head fits exactly into his shoulder.

They're Castle and Beckett. They have bulletproof vests that say Cop and Writer. Magazines describe them as Author and Muse.

But right now they're Rick and Kate.

And that's good enough for them both right now.

Unbeknown to the both of them, Jim Beckett stands outside, not wanting to spoil the moment by bursting in. He smiles at the scene before him; he with his arm safely around her and she with her head on his shoulder, looking up at him and smiling her proper Kate smile. Realising this opportunity is just too perfect to miss, quietly snaps a picture of it on his phone. He smiles and looks upwards.

"We did good Jo. We did good."

He's about to leave and make apologies later when a cry goes up from Kate's room.

"CASTLE! WHERE THE HELL IS YOUR HAND IN THIS PICTURE?"

And that, dear readers, concludes Polaroid, my first ever Castle fan fiction :D

What did you think? Loved it? Hated it? Was reading it like watching chocolate rainbow unicorns leap for joy over oceans of money? Let me know!

I'd thank each and everyone of you that read this, alerted it, put it on their favourite list and especially those who reviewed personally but that's like over 1000 of you. So here is a huge collective hug *huggggggg* And lots of chocolate rainbow unicorns for you all too :P

Seeing that little story stat graph thing go up and up and up made my face go like this:
:| :] :) :D :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

I might possibly have a small one shot in the works that is a sort of sequel/epiloguey deal. Possibly.

Y'all just have to wait and see!