74. The Limey

This chapter is probably not what you're expecting. But it seemed appropriate.

The Limey

After the emotional turmoil of the last letter, the parts of their past it dredged up, they mutually agreed to continue reading, to make their way through this whole string of letters in one night. The faster they could move on from these memories, the better.

"There's a big gap between letters here," Kate mused as she flipped to the next page in the journal and then back to the previous, comparing the dates at the top. Almost three weeks. They'd never gone three weeks between cases except over the summer. But these were dated in April.

"Oh, yeah. I... I skipped a case," Castle offered hesitantly, remembering how he'd sat down to write and simply stared at the page, waiting for the words to come, but they never did. "I didn't have anything to say. I was trying to get over you." He awkwardly stammered his way through the explanation, knowing there was no easy way to say this yet hoping to find the words that would make it just a little bit easier.

Still, Kate felt a stab of pain because he'd written to her after every other case they'd ever worked, even if he was upset at her. Even if the words were harsh and hurt to read, he'd still transcribed them onto the page. But not this time.

Then again, sometimes a lack of words said more than any written words ever could.

"I was such an idiot," Kate murmured after a moment, shaking her head in shame.

"No. I was the idiot," Castle refuted, reaching out to take her left hand in his. "Thinking I could get over you. Even if I'd stopped shadowing you and dated other people and killed Nikki Heat and moved away, I don't think I ever would have completely succeeded. I loved you too much. Love you too much," he added.

Castle absently began to fiddle with the ring on her finger and Kate smiled tenderly. It was a habit he'd picked up recently that actually didn't annoy her as much as she'd initially thought it might. Maybe because every time he started doing it, she could tell he was totally in awe of the fact that they were engaged, that they were getting married.

"I'll never get over you," he admitted, voice barely audible.

Her smile broadened and she squeezed his hand, trapping his fingers between hers. "You're sweet, Rick."

"Just being honest," he murmured.

She reached up with her free hand, wiped at her eyes. No. No. He had not made her cry. But when he got in these sentimental moods, what else was she supposed to do?

It still amazed her every day that she, Kate Beckett the cop, was Castle's ideal woman. He could have blonde and gorgeous and easy and undamaged, just like he'd found during this whole ordeal. He could have someone who didn't risk her life every day. He could have someone who didn't make him wait three years for her to get her head on straight and realize she was madly in love with him.

But he wanted her. And he loved her just the way she was, broken at times, insecure and stubborn at others, yet always extraordinary in his eyes.

And for that, Kate was incredibly thankful.

Thoughts?