Home for the Holiday
Epilogue to "Secret Santa."
Disclaimer: I don't own Castle. Duh.
"Are you two going to cuddle over there all night, or are you going to help us eat all of this food," Martha calls from the dining room.
Sharing a last small smile, Castle and Kate reluctantly step away from each other but keep their hands clasped as they make their way to the table. Castle assists Kate in shedding her coat before directing her toward the chair next to Martha. Kate takes her seat and offers what she hopes is an open and friendly smile to Alexis.
"Merry Christmas," she says to both women, "and thank you for including me tonight."
"Nonsense, dear! Of course you should be here, right Alexis?" Martha insists cheerfully, dismissing Kate's formal appreciation and looking toward her granddaughter for further confirmation.
Alexis visibly startles at being called out to verbalize her approval, but recovers quickly and nods her head in agreement.
Castle returns from hanging up Kate's coat and greets the assembled women with an irrepressible smile and glowing aura broadcasting his awareness that he is the luckiest man on Earth. Gathered around the table are the three people in his life he loves unconditionally, and they each have made sacrifices to be there with him on Christmas Eve. Settling his gaze on the newest occupant in his heart, he knows some sacrifices cost more than others.
"So, are we just going to look at this food all night, or are we going to eat!" Castle announces.
Immediately, platters and bowls begin to circulate, and Castle offers Kate the knife to carve the turkey. There is far too much food for only four people, and the leftovers are sure to hold them over until New Year's.
"Who did all this cooking?" Kate asks, knowing Castle spent most of the day with her, trying to figure out who killed their redemptive Santa.
Expecting Martha to answer, Kate is surprised to hear Alexis speak up.
"Gram and I got everything started, and then Dad got home in time to help us put the finishing touches on.
"Well, you both certainly out-did yourselves. It's delicious."
And to prove her point, she helps herself to more stuffing. As she replaces the bowl on the table, she happens to glance up and catch Castle staring at her. An infectious grin is plastered across his face, and his eyes are radiating a perfect trifecta of joy, gratitude, and most of all, love. The combination is potent and undeniable, leaving Kate to do little more that hold his gaze in silent acknowledgment, and smile back, as if to assure him, Yes, I feel it, too.
For Kate, the meal represents so much more than a first Christmas with a significant other. After days of sorting through the very real consequences of greed and selfishness, she finds herself embracing a long-ignored ache to feel the magic of Christmas more readily than she expected. And in nearly 15 years, Castle is the first person to make her want to feel that again. He is the first person to make her want to remember what Christmas can be — what it in fact is for millions of people. Just not her. Until now.
But it isn't just him. It is his mother, who has welcomed her openly into the fold of their family as if there was never any question that she should be there. And it is his daughter, who has set aside whatever reservations she still harbors and is trusting the happiness she sees in her father's eyes.
Determined to demonstrate that their hospitality is not in vain, Kate makes every effort to engage in the conversation. And it isn't hard. These people are familiar to her now, and she feels at ease in their company, able to open up and laugh in a way she too rarely can. Of course her mind drifts to the vigil she is neglecting to keep, but for the first time since she became a cop, she realizes there might be more than one way to honor her mother. Being with Castle has become a priority for her — in fact, Castle has become a priority. Making an effort no longer feels like a sacrifice or a risk. It is something she wants to do. The way she feels when he touches her and the way her heart swells when he looks at her make accepting these new and powerful feelings all the easier.
The conversation hits a lull as everyone sits back to personally assess the impending toll on their digestive systems. By the Mac truck-size dent in the food, it seems they all tested the limits of their stomach capacity.
"I'm not going to be able to eat for a week," Kate says to a unanimous nodding of heads. "But when I recover, I wouldn't mind more of that stuffing," she adds with an impish grin, "and the turkey, and that potato casserole ..."
"Kate!" Castle groans, "enough already. Just saying the words seems to make my stomach feel fuller — if that's possible."
She smiles at his dramatics and whispers an exaggerated, "Sorry," as she rises to help Alexis clear the dishes.
"Not a chance," she hears Castle say when she picks up her plate and glass to carry to the kitchen.
"Don't be silly," she says, "I ate, and I can help clean up. Then we can all be done more quickly."
Ignoring his muttered, "Stubborn woman," she continues with her efforts, and soon all four of them are packing up leftovers, scraping scraps into the disposal, loading the dishwasher, and wiping down the table. All the while, conversation ensues as they dance around each other in the crowded space.
"So what's next on the agenda," Castle asks, cupping a hand at Kate's waist while he leans around her to place a bowl in the dishwasher. The gesture comes so naturally — until he remembers exactly how new such casual intimacies still are. Until six months ago, they had moved around each other as if they had both been enclosed in a bubble, never able to come closer than three feet into the other's space. Now, the feel of her hip under his fingers leaves him itching for more. A quick glance assures him Alexis and Martha are resetting the table runner and centerpiece, so he takes advantage of his position to spin Kate around and capture her mouth before she can protest.
After a split second of surprised resistance, she melts into him, letting her lips play over his in a series of soft, tender kisses.
The sound of simultaneous throats clearing has them breaking apart and glancing over at their audience of two, who are trying to feign admonishment but only succeeded in giggling like schoolgirls. Kate immediately ducks her head, trying to suppress the blush she feels climbing up her neck, but Castle just grins stupidly and offers a mischievous, "Excuse us."
"So, um, about the next phase of the Traditional Castle Christmas Eve ..." Kate says as a way to change the subject and redirect everyone's attention.
"Yes!" Castle replies with exuberant agreement. "Head on into the living room, and give me just a minute to get some stuff ready."
He darts past her toward his study while she follows Martha and Alexis to the far corner of the living room, where the couch and chairs have been repositioned to make room for the tree and train table. As the women take their seats, Kate notices Alexis checking her cell phone and obviously typing out a text to someone. She doesn't think much of it, and turns her attention to Castle's mother.
"I thought Castle said you were going caroling tonight, Martha."
"Yes, well, I decided my presence here was a little more important. But the night's still young yet," she says with a knowing glint in her eye, and Kate realizes his family was quicker than she to make sure the man who brings so much to each of their lives has a Christmas worthy of him. It makes her all the more grateful she mustered the courage to take one more step forward.
As if on cue, Castle comes lumbering back in the room with what looks to be a collapsed screen and projector under his arms. Kate is immediately on her feet to help him with the equipment, and in a matter of minutes, they have a six-by-eight-foot screen on which Castle announces he would like to watch a marathon of Scrooged, which he chose, A Christmas Story, which Alexis chose, and a movie of Kate's choosing. But when his eyes drift to his daughter, Kate notices his brow furrow at her obvious absorption in her cell phone. While Kate is as aware as any resident of the 21st century that texting is practically a way of life for most young people, even she is surprised by the young woman's focus on the device.
Castle glances quickly at Kate, with an understanding smile on his face that she doesn't quite know how to interpret. Then he walks over to Alexis and asks softly, "Max?"
In that one word, the picture becomes clearer to Kate, but she remains silent and lets father and daughter find their way.
"Yeah," Alexis says softly, then begins to set her phone aside. "I didn't mean to be rude by texting, but I wanted to wish him merry Christmas."
"Is he still in the city?"
Alexis nods, then adds, "He's with his brother – they're going to Rockefeller Center to ice skate."
Castle glances at Kate, who nods in silent agreement, knowing exactly what he's going to say. Her heart breaks a little as she watches him struggle to let his little girl go. But to his credit, he seems to be taking it well, and even appears a little proud to be able to give her this intangible gift.
"Honey, go," he says softly.
Her eyes snap up to his in confusion, and she stammers, "No ... Dad, it's not ... that's not why ... I mean, I want to be here with you."
"And you will be here, all day tomorrow. Right now, though, you should be with Max." He adds the last part with a look to Kate.
In a second, Alexis launches herself into his arms and covers his face with kisses. "Thank you, Dad!"
Before he can even return the embrace, she's up and running toward the stairs to change into warmer clothes, while punching out a text on her phone, presumably to tell Max she can join him.
"Good call, Dad," Martha says sagely from her perch on the chair, then pipes up with, "So does that mean I can take the gloob and go caroling?"
Castle sighs heavily, resigned to changing traditions, and says, "Of course, Mother. Have a wonderful time."
"Thank you, darling. Besides, with Alexis gone, the role of 'third wheel' has never been one I enjoyed playing."
Kate's head spins toward Castle's mother with the sudden fear her presence is causing the other woman to leave her home on Christmas Eve. "Martha, please, don't leave on my account," Kate protests.
But Martha just smiles brightly and assures her, "Don't be silly, Kate. I have a feeling we're all getting what we want for Christmas."
And with that, she makes her exit, leaving Kate and Castle alone on the couch.
"And then there were two," he says, a hint of melancholy in his voice. "I'm sorry you're not going to get the benefit of full Castle Christmas."
She leans over and brushes her lips to his. "I think we can find a way to make up for it," she purrs suggestively before kissing him deeply.
The sound of footfalls on the steps drags them apart, and Kate finds herself grateful for the massive tree in the room, which blocks Alexis from seeing them until they have resumed a respectable distance.
"All ready to go, sweetheart?" Castle asks, his voice remarkably even for just having had Kate pressed against him.
"Yep, got my skates, my wool sweater and heavy coat, gloves, hat, and scarf."
"Is Max coming here to get you?"
"Yeah, I'm going to meet him downstairs. I'll be home by midnight."
Castle stands up, walks to his daughter, and wraps his arms around her in a fierce, parental hug. "Have fun, and tell Max I look forward to meeting him."
"I will, Dad. Merry Christmas."
When he steps away, Alexis looks over to Kate, who is still sitting on the couch. "Merry Christmas, Kate."
"You too, Alexis, and have fun."
Alexis makes her exit, followed almost immediately by Martha, who is wearing a bright red coat with white trim that looks like Christian Dior's reimagining of a Mrs. Claus costume. She's stunning, and Kate tells her so as Martha embraces her, then Castle, and finally flounces out the door.
The silence is almost deafening as Castle and Kate turn to face each other. In a matter of minutes, they went from collectively enjoying a Christmas movie marathon to having the whole loft to themselves.
"I did the right thing, letting her go?"
Kate nods in affirmation, "Without a doubt."
"She has a new boyfriend, or at least a tentative one," he says, filling in what Kate was able to piece together.
"So I gathered."
"I think they are still in the getting-to-know-you phase. She canceled her plans with him to spend the evening with me when she heard you had to work." He walks over to her and takes her hands in his. "But knowing how important it was for me to be with you tonight, I couldn't deny her that same sense of wonder at spending the most magical night of the year with someone special – someone besides her dad."
"It really does feel magical, doesn't it?" she asks, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"It does now," he replies softly.
She smiles up at him and can tell he is feeling as self-aware as she is. Six months is not long enough for either of them have forgotten how much things have changed and to acknowledge that in four years, this is the first Christmas they have spent together. Castle lets his mind drift to the year before when he'd been so tempted to invite her over. But she'd made no secret of the fact that she was working, and even if he didn't then know the significance she placed on that personal tradition, he'd gotten the distinct impression she wasn't bothered by spending Christmas at the precinct. At the time, he'd suspected she sensed his intent and was using work as an excuse to not have to reject him because she wasn't ready. Now, he understood better. So, last year he'd settled for wishing her a merry Christmas on the 23rd and texting her on the 25th, all the while thinking about her and hoping that next year would be different.
Apparently, someone heard his wish, because here she is in his arms.
"So ..." he says.
"So ..." she replies.
"Movie?"
She pretends to mull it over and consider her options. If it were any other night, the idea of spending the next few hours in bed certainly would be irresistibly appealing, but something about curling up on the couch with the tree twinkling behind them captures the innocent spirit of the evening that Kate isn't ready to let go of yet.
"Yeah, a movie sounds good," she affirms, fully committed to embracing every cliched, saccharine tradition that couples in love indulge in on this special holiday.
Castle places a quick kiss on her lips, takes her hand, and leads her back to the couch.
"Scrooged, A Christmas Story, or Elf?" he asks.
"Tough call, but I think I have to go with Scrooged," Kate decides as she settles into the couch and waits for him to set up the DVD player.
"Excellent choice."
The moment he settles next to her, it feels like the rest of the world has disappeared. Yes, he misses his daughter, and begrudgingly even his mother, but Kate's presence by his side goes a long way toward making up for their absence. It's still novel to have her curled up next to him, and even now, he's reminded of exactly how important she is to his happiness. As much as he loves his family, his Christmas was incomplete without Kate, so much so that he was willing to abandon his own sacrosanct tradition in order to spend the evening with her. That is something that he has never felt before, and while tendrils of guilt might have clawed at his conscious as he prepared to leave his family for the precinct, he knows there is something inherently powerful about loving someone that much.
For Kate, it's the first time in a decade she has spent Christmas somewhere besides a police station, and she's relieved that her own guilt of abandoning her watch is not as acute as she'd feared. She knows she has earned this reprieve and that there are other cops more than capable of keeping the city safe. Tonight, her tribute to her mother is being happy with the man she loves. The feelings of warmth and utter belonging that wash over her as she leans into his side affirm for her that for once in her life, she is exactly where she wants to be.
The movie is a modern classic, and both have seen it enough times to know when key scenes and dialogue are coming up, which makes for a mutually interactive experience as they both point out different highlights. They both look at each and laugh as they simultaneously exclaim with Bill Murray, "The bitch hit me with a toaster!"
When Castle takes her hand and softly traces the pad of his thumb along each of her fingers, she feels herself sinking deeper into her feelings for him. The gesture is at once so casual but also so intimate. They have gone through so much to get here, and meeting his eyes as he pulls her fingertips to his mouth for a kiss, she knows she will fight with all of her being to make what they have between them work, because not being with him is no longer an option.
Frank Cross finishes his speech to a live audience and kisses the woman he loves just as the clock on Castle's bookshelf strikes ten. As the credits roll and the cast joins in a rousing chorus of "Put a Little Love in Your Heart," Kate unwinds her legs and stretches them across the couch. But as she moves to stand up, she finds herself imprisoned by Castle's arms around her shoulders.
"Going somewhere?"
"Apparently not," she retorts, leaning back into his embrace. By craning her neck, she can turn just far enough to reach his mouth with her own.
In a matter of seconds, she has shifted around so that she is facing him. Her knees press into the back of the couch, and her torso is angled across his lap. Her eyes meet his, and the atmosphere dissolves into a tender intimacy that is almost tangible, enveloping them as securely as a blanket.
When their lips meet again, the kiss is soft and welcoming.
Drawing back, Castle slips his hand beneath her sweater to caress the curve of her waist. "Tell me you're going to stay tonight."
She looks at him and sees the raw emotion in his eyes, and wishes there was no need for him to even ask the question. Unfortunately, for her, there is a consideration that can't be ignored.
"Do you really think that's a good idea? I mean, if it were just us, that would be one thing, but I'm not sure how Alexis will feel about having me here in the morning. We've been so careful to make sure I don't stay over on nights when she's home."
"Maybe this is wrong, but honestly, Kate, I don't care. I want you here, with me, and if she doesn't know already, I think it's time she understood that you're not just casually passing through my life."
Kate's face registers her surprise at both his bold dismissal of a potentially awkward situation and at his thinly veiled allusion to a long-term future. It's not that the idea makes her uncomfortable anymore — quite the contrary — but it's still not something that has been vocalized. But before she can muster a reply, he continues.
"Listen, for the most part, Alexis has been shielded from the women I've dated, and after Gina, she stopped making any kind of effort to invest in the few she met, which I guess speaks volumes about the faith my track record inspired," he concludes with sad smile. "But Kate, I've tried to do everything I can to prove that what we have here, you and me, is different."
"Castle, I know that —"
"I know you do," he assures her, holding her gaze intently and squeezing his fingers at her waist. "And that means the world to me. But maybe it's time I made that a little clearer to Alexis."
Kate wraps her arms around his neck and draws him back to her, skimming her lips along his until finally melting completely into him. His hand slides up her back, and she can feel each warm, strong digit stroke along her spine.
Kate grazes her teeth along his jaw until her mouth is next to his ear. "As long as you're sure, then yes, I would love to spend the ni—"
Before she finishes the sentence, his lips are on hers. Conversation ceases as the simmering arousal between them rolls into a full boil. With the tree glittering behind them, snowflakes tumbling outside the windows, and the illuminated city serving as a backdrop, they make love slowly and tenderly on the couch. Each welcomes every touch, every kiss, as a gift and seeks to return in equal measure until both lie sated and languid, wrapped together as snugly as the presents under the tree.
With her head on his chest, Kate listens to the steady beat of his heart. She knows they'll have to move into the bedroom soon or risk getting caught in a rather compromising situation when the other occupants of the house arrive home. But they have a little while yet, and the combination of the Christmas lights and the flickering glow from the fireplace behind them create an ambiance too tempting to abandon just yet.
From above her, Castle's voice breaks the silence.
"I'm sorry I didn't get you anything."
Kate leverages herself up on her elbow so that she can look at him when she replies. Now, her edict about gifts seems silly, but days earlier, with the holiday looming and her feelings mixed about how to spend it, she felt compelled to control at least some aspect of what she knew was likely to become an Epic Castle Christmas Celebration. Barring gifts had been her selfish way of asserting herself amid his over-the-top, unavoidable jubilance.
Now, she regrets it, because she knows she denied him something that he takes so much pleasure in. But she never expected him to actually listen. Seriously, when has he ever? But now it's on her to assuage his worries and convince him that he's given her more than he realizes.
"Castle, you did give me something. You gave something no one has given me in 14 years." She brings her lips to within a centimeter of his before whispering, "A merry Christmas," as she closes the distance.
Castle nods in humbled acknowledgment and wraps his arms even more tightly around her. Their gift this year is their very presence on his couch, surrounded by a love that is no longer shrouded in denial and secrets. Their gift is survival, against all odds, and a willful determination to thrive in the face of any obstacle. But most of all, their gift is the shared promise of many more Christmases to come, building traditions and looking together with hope and wonder toward their future.
The end.