Doomsday

A screech sounded through the bunker; a scream followed that.

"He's here!"

At his side, Kate startled so hard that he felt the need to slip his arm around her waist, keep her from falling. (That and he liked any excuse to put his hands on her.)

A little girl came running into the room, braids flying, stopped at the bed and grabbed Alexis's hands. "My Daddy is home!"

Alexis laughed, her voice breaking a little; she got up and followed the girl out, leaving Castle and Kate on the bed.

She let out a relieved sigh. "Whew. Guess we can finally get out of here."

He gave her a glare, but her lips twitched.

"I'm guessing that Ryan's family are gonna bail as soon as they can?" she said instead.

He nodded. "Kamille was telling me they'd get out of our hair tonight. Which I don't-"

"Our?"

"Yours and mine," he smirked, lifting an eyebrow at her. "You know. This place."

"This? I'm not claiming this place," she said, drawing away from him. "You can keep it. Make it a man cave. Since it really is a cave."

"Come on. You love it. Every anniversary we'll come back here to celebrate-"

"Nothing doing, Castle." She pushed on his shoulder and got up off the bed. "Come on, let's get your garage door opener."

He sighed and took the hand she proffered, pulled himself up next to her. As he glanced down the hall, he took a moment, holding Kate back. "Hey. About Alexis-"

She turned to him, something dark sweeping across her eyes and then gone. "It will be okay," she said quietly. "I'll work on it."

"She will too," Castle murmured. "It goes both ways."

Kate gave him a long look. "It does."

Castle sighed; he knew there was something there, knew there was more than either of them would say. "For what it's worth, I think she does like you."

"She just doesn't like me for you," she said softly.

Castle slipped his hand around her neck and brought her into him, a fierce hug. "She doesn't know. She has no idea. But she'll see."

Kate took a stuttered breath against him that he didn't like. She shouldn't doubt it. What she'd been to him. What she was.

"Castle," she murmured, pulled back from him.

"Yeah."

"Let's wait on this until everyone's gone. Until we can talk and not have three year olds running in to interrupt us."

"Or hiding under the bed?" He brushed the tips of his fingers across her temple, stroked his thumb under her eye. He gave her a slow smirk. "Yeah. Good idea."

She smiled finally, turned her head to kiss the base of his thumb before slipping out the door.

Kamille and her family were the first to leave, but the two other husbands came back soon after, and Martha was organizing a huge picnic dinner for all the families. At least, that's what it looked like. In fact, she was mostly dictating what to do to Alexis and a couple of the older boys, who were making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for an army.

An army of Ryans.

Esposito and Lanie disappeared sometime during the melee; Kate got a text from her saying they needed space - they were working through something. Could be promising, could be terrible. She never knew with those two anymore.

The hectic pace of leave-taking only slowed once the last Ryan sister was out the door, and then Jenny gently guided Kevin out to the car, promising all kinds of things in his ear that Kate never ever needed to hear again. Never. Ever.

Although that thing about -

No. She wasn't picking up ideas from Kevin and Jenny. No.

She had enough ideas of her own. What to do to Castle. How. Where.

When it was only, finally, her father, his mother, Alexis and the two of them, the silence in the place was startling. The five of them stood awkwardly in the entryway, still arrested in the act of saying good-bye, not looking at each other.

Alexis bailed first. "I'm gonna finish that research paper. Now that it's quiet."

College. Right. Acceptable excuse.

Kate watched Castle watch her go, tried to just not think about it, about any of it, the girl or the long fight ahead of her. How harder that fight would be since Alexis wasn't at home to see, and Kate was best about showing rather than telling.

"Well, now it really is quiet. And we've got dinner to make," her father said into the silence. "What do you all feel like having?"

"Oh, something light, Jim," Martha swept in, hooking her arm through Kate's father's and pulling him along to the kitchen. "We've had the big meal already. Let's see about pasta salad. Something."

That left Kate standing entirely too close to Castle in front of the door, his body still turned after his daughter.

"Maybe you should go talk to her?"

Castle's head whipped around; maybe he heard something in her voice that she hadn't intended to give out. His hand came up to grasp hers, his palm swallowing her fingers. She kept forgetting how wide and broad his hands were.

"No. She'll be fine. Needs some time to think on it. She'll come find me."

Kate watched him, knew she was trying to take a read off him, trying to figure out what happened next based on the way he was looking at her. And oh-

Oh, that.

"You should read my list," she said quietly, nudging his hip with their joined hands, pushing him towards the hallway, the back bedroom where the laptop was.

"Yeah," he said with a grin. "I definitely want to read that."

1. You have no idea what you do to me. You have no idea how I love you. But I'm going to take all my passion, all my loyalty and fierceness and kindness and strength and intelligence, and bring all of it to bear on you, focus those things in me you love on being for you what you've been for me.

2. Those biceps. Mmm, delicious. I love the feel of your arms as they get tighter and tighter, when you can't help it, when you don't want to need me too much, but you do anyway.

3. Now my head is entirely too raunchy to finish this list. How about I get back to safer ground? Ummmm. Sigh, no can do. The way you feel pressed up against me. Jeez, Castle, damn it. This is your fault. I can't think of anything else. I give up.

4. Your mouth. You know why.

5. In case this ever gets out, I should've put this first, or at least second, but you're - I can't believe I'm going to admit this - you're cutely hilarious. Amusing. Mostly just annoyingly amusing. When you're not adorable. Damn. This isn't any better. I'll try to be serious.

6. You know what it means to need to help - to want to ease someone's grief, to give someone answers. You know how that feels to be responsible, to carry it, even though I wish you didn't. I wish - but it's too late now, and I think, maybe, and I hate it, I really hate it, but I think it's made you understand me as well, everything that's happened to me.

7. You pay attention. I'll admit I don't always like that, but it's made me feel . . . known. It's a little scary - a lot scary - but it's made it easier for you to get to me. And that might be the only way anyone will ever get to me; it's a good thing it's you.

8. It may be the wrong thing, but you always do it for the right reasons. Your heart is pure, and it loves me. And that makes it better, makes it feel like it can be okay, that it can and will always work.

9. You have never given up on me. Who knew you could be so patient?

10. You are my partner. In more ways than I thought possible. I don't want anyone else; I don't need anyone else.

11. Your stories. Good and evil, justice and mercy - dirty and tame. I want them all.

12. Your words. Mine are so inept to say what yours do for me, what they've done. How your words have saved me, over and over. First in your novels, when I was black with grief, and then to my face, telling me the truth even when it wasn't pretty, and then at my back, reassuring me, letting me know you were there, that I was covered, and now at my side. And I don't have all those words yet, I hope I never hear the end of them. Because this could be - this is - the only story I want to hear. Ours.