Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Andrew W. Marlowe, though they have found their own way into my heart.

She reached out blindly with her fingers but found the sheets empty and cold. She opened her eyes, but quickly squeezed them shut again. Too bright, too much light. Bringing a hand to her face, she squinted and blinked a few times until her pupils adjusted to the sun light streaming in through the open curtains. From under her eyelashes she glanced over to the nightstand and read the time on her father's watch. It was almost half past ten! Wow! Getting out of bed, she padded to his dresser, snatched out one of his sweaters and pulled it over her sleeping t-shirt and shorts. She inhaled deeply, it smelled like him. Warm, musky, masculine…, and a hint of sweetness. Putting on a pair of warm woolen socks, she walked out into the living room. Her eyelids fluttered as she yawned and she almost tripped over one of the boxes in the middle of the big room.

"Something smells good," her voice sounded rough with sleep. She sat on a stool by the counter and watched as he flipped over some French toasts.

"Good morning sunshine," he grinned and bent over the breakfast bar to kiss her. She half rose from her seat, leaning on her elbows on the counter and met him half way, pressing her mouth softly against his.

Falling back on the chair, she licked her lips. "You taste good," she said. He looked at her and she half frowned at him. "Did you have breakfast without me?"

"I just had a little something," he said innocently as he served her a cup of coffee. "I've been up for almost three hours. I was starving!"

"Why did you get up so soon?"

"I don't know. Just couldn't sleep anymore…" he shrugged. "I wanted to start making some room for your clothes in the closet…, but didn't want to wake you." He gestured behind her. "I cleared a couple of shelves for your books, instead."

She looked over her shoulder to where he was pointing with the kitchen spatula. A smile spread on her face when she saw three empty shelves in his gigantic bookcase.

"So! What's the plan for today," he said and she turned her attention back to him.

"What are-" she yawned again, "-the options?" She folded her arms in front of her and rested them on the cool counter surface.

"Well… We can stay here and settle your things," he smiled and served the French toasts on a couple of plates.

"Or?" she sipped the steaming coffee.

"Or… we go back to your place and finish packing up there." He opened the fridge and filled two cups with orange juice. "There were just a few things left. We could get all your stuff here and unpack later." She let out a long puff of air and her forehead fell onto her arms. He circled the kitchen and came to stand behind her.

He brushed her hair aside, but couldn't really see her face, which was buried in her arms. "What," he whispered close to her ear.

"Just thinking of packing or unpacking makes me tired," she mumbled, still hiding her face. He had to strain his ears to make out her muffled words that echoed onto the counter's flat surface.

He chuckled. "How can you be tired? You just woke up," he said amused, sliding his hand under the sweater and t-shirt she was wearing and lightly caressing his fingers up and down her back.

Still cushioned on her arms, she turned her head to the side so she could look up at him from the corner of her eye. "Well, I don't know…You tell me. I didn't exactly get much sleep last night, did I?" she arched her brow. "Someone was keeping me busy, entertaining."

"Didn't hear you complain at the time…," he kissed her behind her ear. "And if I remember correctly, you started the… entertaining." His hand kept rubbing her skin under her shirt and he smiled as her eyes drifted close.

"We can do anything you want Kate," he murmured against her shoulder and placed a kiss there. "We can finish the moving some other time, mmm?"

"No." Tilting her head, she ran her fingers through her hair and met his gaze. "I want to be done with it today. I have to go back to work tomorrow and who knows when I'll have a couple of days off again."

He sat down on the stool next to her, and his hands cupped the sides of her face, his thumbs brushing over her temple. Her eyes closed at the warm touch, and he leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose. "Okay, so we get the rest of your things, and we'll leave the unpacking part for the weekend," he murmured, "How about that?"

After breakfast, they got dressed and went back to her apartment. They decided to skip lunch and at 3 pm all of her things were loaded in her car.

Standing behind her, he put his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder. As much as he liked her with heels, when it was just the two of them, he loved the cozy and homey feeling of when she was a few inches shorter than him. In moments like these she was just Kate, not Beckett, not a hard working detective; just… his Kate.

"What should we do with the furniture," his voice echoed off the bare stone walls. She honestly had no idea. She didn't really need anything. He already had a couch, armchairs, a bed…

"Just leave it?" she said clueless.

"You don't want anything?" he murmured in her ear. She scanned the living room with her eyes. She'd got most of these things thanks to her family and friends. They'd helped her make this wonderful space her home and she was specially attached to the kitchen stove table. It had been a gift from her father.

"I mean… What could I take? You already have everything," she replied. He spun her around in his arms and lifted her chin so their gazes met. He stared deeply into her forest green eyes, studying the feelings playing on her face.

"Kate, I want you to feel home. The loft is your home now too. All that's mine is yours. We are in this together." He stopped for a second so it would sink in, then continued. "So if you want to take something with you, we'll do it. If you want to take everything, we'll do it." She debated, worrying her lip, a frown between her brows. A mocking smile spread on his lips. "If you want to keep the apartment as an uptown office, we'll do it."

She smiled, "You'd do that for me?" But she didn't need to hear his answer. Of course he would. He'd do anything and more for her.

She rested her arms on his shoulders, her nails gently scrapping over the back of his neck. "We could… keep these things here for a couple of weeks… until we figure out what to do with them?" she suggested.

"Absolutely," he grinned against her mouth before he softly kissed her lips. "Are you ready to go?" She hesitated as he tugged at her hand. "…Or you need a minute." She nodded coyly. "I'll wait in the car then." Closing the door, he left her alone. She inhaled deeply and the sound echoed in the almost empty apartment.

As she walked around the rooms she remembered the so many things that had happened between these walls. This had been her safe place for almost two years. She'd had bad times here; her arguments and fights with Castle... And she'd had really bad times; the memories of her shooting filled her mind. But this was the place where her wounds had healed too, both from her mom's case, finally solved a few months ago; and from the murder attempt against her own life.

She crossed the apartment, walked into her bedroom and smiled. Good things had happened here as well. She had loved Castle here, loved him like she hasn't loved anyone before. She had grown and changed, she'd taken risks and she'd taken and embraced the chance at being happy. And she was, really happy. She was starting a new life, with him, together… A single tear rolled down her cheek and fell on the carpet under her feet.

At the entrance hall, she turned and roamed her gaze around the empty space one more time. With a smile on her lips, she walked out into the hallway and locked the front door behind her.

They dragged the last heavy box inside the loft. Breathing deeply, she sat on it and wiped away the sweat on her forehead with her arm. He went out into the hallway.

"Kate, there's another one out here," he called.

"No, this was the last box," she said.

"And what's this then?" he frowned. She walked out and looked where he was pointing. She saw nothing, the hall was empty. He suddenly scooped her in his arms, leaving her breathless.

"Castle! What are you doing?" she squealed with a high pitched voice and smacked his shoulder. He flashed his teeth at her as he crossed the threshold carrying her in his arms, and then kicked the door shut.

"Welcome home," he whispered in her ear. Before she had a chance to say anything, he crushed his lips against hers and kissed her passionately. He slowly put her on the floor, but they didn't break the kiss. Pressing herself against him, her hands moved around him and over his rear, teasing him. Gasping for air, they both pulled apart. Her forehead fell forward, at his lips height, and he took advantage by pressing his mouth to her sweat dampened temple.

"I'm gonna take a shower. I must look like a mess," she murmured against his throat.

"Yes, you do." She looked at him and frowned. "But… a beautiful mess, nonetheless. My lovely-" he kissed her lips, "-gorgeous-" another peck, "-stunning mess." She rolled her eyes at his cheesy words.

She kicked her sneakers off and swiftly pulled her sweater and tank top in one move over her head and threw them aside. His jaw went slack, and before he could react, she turned and headed for the bathroom, swaying her hips and pushing the waistband of her pants down an inch so he could catch a glimpse of her thong.

Without turning, she called over her shoulder, "You coming… babe?" She didn't have to ask twice before she felt him pressing against her back, his hands on her hips, urging her towards the shower, and his lips on her bare shoulder.

I'm not sure if I'll be adding another chapter, so I'm gonna label the story as Complete for now. I do have material for another extra chapter, but I'm gonna post it separetly as a one-shot. If so, I'll let you know. Thanks you guys for reading!