Kate stands nervously outside the loft, shifting her weight from side to side. She has a key but she doesn't dare use it. Not tonight.

She knocks again, her knuckles stinging. He's not answering the phone. She doesn't blame him but she's not giving up, she's not going away; a lot has happened in the last few days and they need to talk about it. She raises her hand to knock again as the door swings open and she's struck with an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. The only difference is this time, he's the one that's wet.

"I was in the shower," he explains needlessly, his wet hair sticking to his forehead and a towel tossed over one shoulder. Her favorite pair of his pajama pants are slung low on his hips, the cuffs pooling around his heels on the hardwood floor. Her eyes track over his naked torso, flit over the beads of errant water that slip slowly down his chest. She wants to reach out and touch him, beg for forgiveness with the press of her lips and the slide of her tongue as she laps the water from his skin. He watches her for a moment and then turns away, leaves her standing in the open doorway.

Pulling in a deep breath to slow her thundering heart, Kate takes his silent invitation and steps into the loft, closing the door softly behind her. She follows him to the living, stopping nervously next to the couch; his back is to her as he stands in front of the bar, and she can see the tension in the rigid line of his shoulders. "Where's Martha?"

"Out celebrating my freedom."

"Without you?"

"Didn't feel much like celebrating."

The bottle of scotch lands heavily on the wooden table and she waits for him to turn around, to aim his obvious anger in her direction but he just stands there, the muscles of his back flexing as he raises the heavy glass tumbler to his lips.

"Castle."

"Why are you here?"

"We have to talk about this."

He snorts into his glass, the sound distorted by the rippling liquid. "Oh, now you want to talk. Now that you realize that I'm innocent."

"Now I that can talk, Castle. You know I had to keep my distance while you were a suspect."

"You mean when you and Esposito had me all but convicted?"

She swallows, her throat thick with regret and guilt. "Yes."

"All right. Talk."

"Would you at least turn around and look at me? I'm not having this conversation with your back."

He turns slowly on the spot and she wishes he hadn't. The coldness in his eyes hits her hard, sends shivers skittering down her spine. She'd known this wasn't going to be an easy conversation but she hadn't been prepared for this, for the absolute enmity in his face. Castle just looks at her, his hair slowly dripping water onto his neck, one hand propped on the bar and the other wrapped tightly around his glass. She waits for him to say something, anything, but the seconds tick by in silence and she realizes that that this is up to her.

"I'm sorry." He scoffs and she takes a step forward, her hands lifted in supplication. "No, just listen. I am sorry. I'm sorry that you had to go through this and I'm sorry that I couldn't - didn't - do more to help you. I'm sorry that I doubted you, Castle, but the evidence was compelling." He won't meet her eyes, blankly staring just past her right shoulder. "I was doing my job. I - I get that you're mad but I was doing my job, Castle."

"And part of your job was to repeatedly accuse me of cheating on you?" His voice is low and angry and it rocks her back on her heels, sends her heart plummeting. "That was a vital part of solving Michelle's murder?"

"Yes," she says and his eyes finally fly to hers, startled and wild. "Yes, it was. Because so much of the evidence indicated that you were involved in a - a relationship with her."

"I explained and refuted every single piece of that evidence and you still doubted me." He drops the glass of scotch on the bar. "You thought I killed her."

"No, I didn't," she defends weakly. "But I had to do my job. I couldn't clear you based solely on your statement and my belief that you were innocent. You know that's not how it works."

"Fine, you couldn't clear me. You needed proof. I get that. But-" He takes a step toward her, his body coming out of the shadows. She can see his face clearly now, can see past the anger to the hurt. "You could have come to tell me that you believed me. That you were working to get me out. For all I knew, you were out shoring up the case against me."

"You told me you didn't want to speak to me without your lawyer."

He scoffs. "So it's my fault. As always."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that in the entire time that I've known you, everything that has ever happened between us has, according to you, been my fault. I thought you might take responsibility for once but I can see now how that was just stupidity on my part."

"I know what I did hurt you. And I'm sorry. I am taking responsibility, Castle." She can feel herself growing angry with him, with his staunch refusal to see her side of this. To see that she did the best she could under the circumstances. "But you were a murder suspect and I am a homicide detective. Do you not see the conflict of interest there?"

"No, I see it. What I don't see is how you, as my girlfriend, could seriously question whether or not I was sleeping with her. That's what this is really about." Castle takes another step closer to her and she can feel the heat radiating off his chest, pouring out of his lips. "You may not have thought I killed her but you did think I was having an affair with her." He cocks his head to the side, studies her face. She tries to hold it back but the mask has been slipping for hours, was never firmly in place to start with, and he sees it. Sees her doubts and her insecurities, her fears. "You still do."

"Castle -"

"Is that why you're really here? Not to apologize but to find out for sure whether or not I was sleeping with her?" She stares at him, her bottom lip trapped firmly between her teeth, the sharp bit of copper stinging the tip of her tongue. Castle laughs hollowly, the sound rattling around inside his broad chest. "I can't believe this. All this - After everything, you still think I was cheating on you. Fuck, Beckett."

"I -"

"When is enough going to be enough for you? When are you going to stop doubting me and my - When are you going to trust me?"

"I do trust you."

"Bullshit. You thought I was going to sleep with Kristina Coterra, you think I was having an affair with Michelle. You don't trust me." He turns away from her, the towel falling from his shoulder and landing with a wet thump on the floor. "You never have."

"I trust you." She wraps her hand around his elbow and twists him back to face her. His eyes catch hers as she steps into his space, brings herself as close to him as she dares. "I trust you with my life, I trust you to be my partner and to have my back."

"But you don't trust me in this."

"This - Castle, this, what we have, is important but I still don't know how to do it. I don't know how to be with you and not worry about what happens if it ends."

"I don't know what else to do Kate," he whispers and her eyes flutter closed. It's the first time he's said her name in two days. "I don't know how else to convince you that this is what I want. That you're what I want."

"Castle."

"Tell me what to do. Tell me what you need because I can't keep doing this. We have to move past this so tell me -"

She pushes up onto the balls of her feet, her hands sliding up to cradle his face as she cuts off his quiet plea. He groans softly when she slides her tongue over his bottom lip, his hands landing on her hips. He pushes her back and she stumbles, her low heels clicking as they collide with the floor. Her hands are still on his face as he walks her backward, his eyes dark and serious.

"You can't fix this by kissing me." Her back hits the wall and he looms over her, his chest broad and imposing. Castle lets go of her waist and brings his hands to her wrists; his fingers bracelet the thin bones and he pushes her arms back, lifting them up over her head. "Either you trust me completely or you don't."

Kate lets her head fall back against the wall and meets his steady gaze. She's pinned, the hard press of his body and the wall holding her up, keeping her together. Closing her eyes, she lets herself break, hopes that he'll catch all the pieces before they hit the floor.

"I'm scared," she admits, her voice wavering.

"Of me?"

"No. Of this, us. I'm scared that I'm going to get - That's it's going to fall apart."

"Constantly doubting me isn't going to stop that. It only makes it worse and ends up hurting us both."

"I know." She opens her eyes, finds him still staring down at her. "I don't want to lose you."

"Then stop pushing me away. I'm here." He leans in, his hips and knees and ribs pressing into her. "I want you. I choose you. Let that be enough." His lips graze her cheek, soft and damp. "I love you, Kate. I don't want to be with anyone else."

She turns her head and chases his mouth, the need for him building. He has to know. He has to see, to understand. She whimpers softly when he drags his teeth over her jaw, his fingers flexing around her wrists.

"Castle, I -"

"No," he cuts her off, nipping at the corner of her mouth. "No more."

He gathers both her wrists in his left hand, his grip tight as he drags his right hand down her arm and across her throat. His fingers tense, the rough pads pressing firmly into the side of her neck before sliding down, slipping between the valley of her breasts, gliding over the plane of her stomach.

"I've wanted you for years," he whispers against her lips, his breath rushing over her cheeks. Castle flicks open the button of her slacks and tugs at the zipper, spreads his hand wide over her abdomen. His fingers skim the elastic of her underwear and Kate moans, bucking off the wall, her hips colliding with his thighs. "I waited for you until you were ready to give us a chance and if you think I'm going to do anything," he pushes past her waistband, slips his hand down until the tips of his fingers barely brush over her, "to screw this up, to ruin it -"

"Castle," she whines, her body arching into his, desperate for his touch. A feral growl rumbles in his chest when he dips into her with his middle finger, finds her wet and swollen for him.

"I'm not letting you screw it up either," he bites, his teeth sharp on her bottom lip. His fingers are quick and rough, flicking hard at the swollen nub of her clit, coating them both with the evidence of her need for him. A knee slides between her thighs and she sinks down, desperate. She needs more. More pressure. More friction. More him.

"I'm not. I won't," she pants, her eyes fluttering as his mouth slides across her jaw. "I want this so much. I want you."

He pushes into her, two fingers stretching her apart, and she cries out, her head thumping against the wall. Slowly, he pulls out, teasing, before slamming back in again, his palm connecting sharply with her clit. She grinds down into him, her body already clenching and spasming around the intrusion of his fingers. His hips rock as he pumps into her and she can feel him, hard and hot, against her thigh. Her hands clench over her head, nails digging into her palms as she rides his fingers, her shoulders slamming into the wall.

She chants his name as the pleasure swirls in her abdomen, his mouth trailing fire down her neck. Her body bows and he releases her wrists, his arm wrapping around her waist, holding her close. Her hands fall to his shoulders and she tugs at him, twines her arms around his head and neck, her lips pressed to his ear when she breaks.

Castle eases his hand away from her, lets her sag against his chest for a moment before pulling her gently with him as he starts to walk back toward his office. The loose fabric of her pants catches on her heels and she trips, her side colliding roughly with the door jamb. Castle chuckles quietly as she kicks out of the shoes and pants, his fingers rubbing softly over the side of her hip.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." She looks up at him, the distance greater now, searches his face. His eyes are still guarded but his smile is soft and real. "Are we?"

His hands move to her shirt, slowly flicking the buttons open as he continues to guide them toward his bedroom. "We will be," he assures her, thumbs strumming over her ribs as he pushes the shirt open. "But can you do me a favor?"

"Anything," she answers, the word falling from her lips before she even recognizes thinking it.

"If I'm ever arrested again, could you let someone else work the case? I know you're the best detective in the NYPD but I really could have used Kate over the past few days, not Beckett."

Castle sits when his knees hit the edge of the bed and she sinks down into his lap, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist.

"Yeah," she breathes into his waiting mouth, the hard knot of anxiety in her chest finally dissolving, "I can do that." She kisses him slowly, deeply, her tongue sliding over the roof of his mouth, curling around his deep, reverberating moan.

She loves him. She loves him so much and the words are thrashing inside her chest, desperate to spill forth and fill the air between them. She lets them slip out into her kiss, unspoken, lets him breathe them in. She's desperate to tell him but not tonight. Tonight is about apologies and forgiveness and letting go of the past, of her fears. Tomorrow is for declarations and hope and the future.

Tomorrow.

fin