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"You sure you're okay with this," says Rick, the moment the door closes behind the concierge. It's the same room they stayed in last time, while they were (supposedly not really) investigating Mike Royce's murder. The roses and wine have remained this time, and they have no plans and no deadline. It's just a week's escape from a dreary New York winter to the sunny California coast.
"More than okay," says Kate, wandering over to the window. She smiles to herself, recalling Royce's last note to her, which she should have acted on the last time they were here. But that time, she was "with" Josh, Rick was "with" Gina, and whatever anyone says about Kate Beckett, she doesn't cheat, or encourage anyone else to cheat.
Now, though -
"I want to enjoy this place the way you wanted to," she says, turning to look at Rick. "With the roses and the couples massage. And no murder."
"Kind of a do-over," he suggests. When she nods, he grins and adds, "About that massage..."
After the massage and dinner they go back to their room. When Rick reaches for Kate, to pull her into his arms, she eludes him easily and goes to sit on the sofa. He looks puzzled, but when she pats the sofa near her, he comes and sits down, about an arm's length away.
She looks him over fondly. He's taken off his shoes and rolled up his sleeves; he looks like a man at home with himself and the world. She's always envied him the ability to move through situations that require money, confidence, or both, as though he'd been practicing for them his whole life.
On the other hand, he still gets flustered when she wears something sleek to an event he's taking her to.
"So, Castle," says Kate, hoping he'll pick up on her words. "What did you think, the first time you met me?"
His smile spreads slowly over his face. He gets it now.
"I thought you were a mystery I was never going to solve," he says softly. "Even now, after spending all this time with you I’m … I’m still amazed at the depth of your strength, your heart … and your hotness."
"You're not so bad yourself, Castle." It's funny how shy she feels, as if they really were reliving this moment without the weight of the baggage they had before. She glances down at his lips - did she do that, back then? - and sees the corners turn up.
"So," he says, and she thinks his voice has become even deeper, even softer. "Looks like I was right. I don't think I'm ever going to solve that mystery. Kind of an emotional writer's block."
"What are you going to do about it?" She lowers her voice as well and lets herself smile and lean in, just a little.
"Well, usually I either push my way past the block, or just leave well enough alone and let it resolve itself."
"And if it doesn't?" Kate whispers. He's leaning in, too, and she tips her head just right, in case he gets any closer.
"I come back to it, from time to time, to see whether anything has changed."
"Has anything changed?" They're inches apart now, knees bumping, his arm settling along the back of the sofa.
"Everything," he says. "Everything has changed."
"So you think you've solved the mystery?" She's almost grinning now.
Rick pulls back just enough to focus on her.
"Never," he says firmly, just before they both move into their embrace.