Takes place roughly four months from where "Dissolution" left off (AKA Divorcefic). It's not necessary to read that first (it's a big ball of angst, but it ends well), but it would help. If you decide not to read it, all you really need to know is that Castle and Beckett are married and went through a really rough patch a few months ago and almost divorced.

She licks the cookie dough from her finger, humming softly in tune to the music that reverberates from the small CD player she plugged into the counter.

She smiles at the memory of the look on his face when she dragged it out of her closet for the first time and lifted it onto the counter.

"You know I have a perfectly adequate, new stereo," he said, looking at her small boombox with mild distaste.

She flicked him on the shoulder, pursing her lips. "I know, but I've been using this one for the last ten years-"

He lifted an eyebrow. "Ten years? Is that all?"

She huffed out a breath, shaking her head at him. "It's perfect for the kitchen. And since it's old, I don't have to worry about anything happening to it," she pointed out.

He ran a digit over the dusty speakers. "Does this thing even play more than one CD at a time?"

She let out a disbelieving laugh, perching her hands on her hips defensively. He laughed, eyes sparkling before pressing a smooth kiss to her lips.

She can't believe how quickly the time has gone by since then. How much has changed. How much has stayed the same.

She came so close to spending Christmas alone again, like she had before they married.

Well, before they started dating, really.

She was used to it then, nothing but a black-and-white movie marathon and a Charlie Brown Christmas tree thrown in the corner. And sure, she and her Dad spent Christmas Day together, but it always seemed to...fall short. As if they could hear the echo of her mother's laugh around the corner, always out of reach.

And after spending a couple of Christmases with him, she can't imagine ever going back to that life.

She swallows the bile rising in her throat, shaking the thoughts from her head. It's been four months since that night her whole world came crashing down around her, since he spoke those words.

I want a divorce.

But now-

Well, they've never been stronger. Thank God.

She runs a few of the utensils under the faucet, waiting for the oven to warm. She leaves the bowl on the island, knows he'll slip in with a pout on his face if he misses his chance at licking the bowl.

The wooden spoon she holds falls to the bottom of the sink with a loud thump as she startles at the feel of a large pair of warm hands spanning her waist.

He lets out a breathless laugh. "Sorry," he murmurs apologetically.

Once the pounding of her heart fades into a dull thud, she smiles, shaking her head. "Not your fault. Music's on and I'm lost in my head. Didn't hear you come in."

She shuts the water off and wipes her hands on a nearby towel before turning in his arms.

"Hey," she says softly, a smile blooming across her face at the sight of him, eyes bright, mouth curved into a loving grin.

"Hey yourself," he replies, leaning into her to steal a soft kiss. "Mmm," he mumbles into her mouth, swiping his tongue across her lips, "You taste like cookies."

Her grin is toothy against his lips as she slides her hands up his chest, relishing the warm flannel beneath her wandering fingers. "Saved you the bowl," she says, her mouth sliding across his chin before letting her forehead rest against his cheek.

He groans, a deep rumble that travels through her body. "Too good to me," he says gruffly.

She nudges her nose against his. "Never."

She pats his chest once before reaching around him to grab the bowl. He takes a step back, rests his back against the counter and pulls her into the vee of his legs.

"How was your meeting?" she asks, swiping her index finger through the leftover dough, lifting it to his mouth.

He shrugs, wrapping his hand around her wrist as he grazes his teeth over her skin, licking the sweet treat from her finger. "Went fine. Same as usual. More publicity, more signings. The works."

She nods thoughtfully. "Are they asking for anything internationally?"

He hesitates. "They want a month for Europe. But I said no way."

She tugs her lip between her teeth. "You sure?"

"They want me to leave on the 26th. Our first Christmas together since-" he breaks off, swallowing hard. The pain flashes in his eyes, doesn't linger, but she can't help the way it tugs on her heart.

She cards her fingers through his hair, nudges his mouth to hers again. She closes her eyes, exhales against his lips, gives them a moment. "I know," she says quietly, soothing the ache in her chest with the brush of his mouth. "I love you," she reminds him.

He told her a couple of months ago that he didn't need the words to reassure him that they were okay, more than okay, but she can't help but use them, yearns to apply them like a balm to their wounded hearts.

His palms are warm at her hips, slipping under her apron and purple sweater to glide across her skin. "I love you, too," he lets out in a contented sigh against her cheek. She pulls him in for a tight hug, her head tucked into the crook of his neck. She brushes her mouth against his clavicle as he wraps an arm around her small waist.

"Home Alone soundtrack again, huh?" he asks against the soft hum of the music that floats through the kitchen.

She feigns a suffering sigh. "John Williams is a genius."

He huffs a laugh. "That's what I hear."

She pulls out of his embrace to meet his eyes. "From who?"

He rolls his eyes. "You. Every year."

She thumps his chest with a playful flick of her fingers, shaking her head. "It's growing on you. Admit it."

"The children's choir is a bit much, but it's not bad," he concedes.

She wrinkles her nose in distaste. "Oh, what do you know from Christmas music anyway? If I'm not mistaken, I heard you singing Mele Kalikimaka in the shower the other day."

"That song is a classic, Beckett."

"Hawaii at Christmas? Palm trees? No thanks, Castle." She shakes her head.

"I'll remember that next time you're grumbling about the below freezing weather outside."

She glares at him, scrambles for a retort in her head and comes up empty. He grins at her lack of response, presses a patronizing kiss to her cheek.

"You'll win the next one, dear."

Neither of them feels like cooking, so they munch on the cookies she baked while sipping wine, curled up on the couch. Comfy now in his grey sweatshirt and a pair of leggings, she tucks her feet under one of her old quilts, rests her head on his chest as they stare at the bright glow of the oversized Christmas tree.

"You're lucky I love Christmas," she says.

She feels his low chuckle rumble through his chest. He kisses her head. "Lucky, huh? How do you figure that?"

"Because that tree is ridiculously huge, Castle. We could give Clark Griswold a run for his money."

"We are so watching that tomorrow when Alexis gets home."

She smiles, brushing her mouth lovingly over his chest. She loves how excited he gets about a family Christmas. It's infectious, fills her up, makes her want it, too.

Makes her want more.

Lately, she can't stop picturing a family with him. A little boy with his eyes and her smile, bent over a train that circles the entire tree, humming choo-choo noises in his Santa pajamas.

She pictures them in the kitchen together, sprinkling a ridiculous amount of sprinkles on the sugar cookies they baked together. She and Castle would make a special trip to the store to get him a stool, so he could look over the counter and she can kiss his sticky cheeks a little easier.

She can see Castle sneaking him a hot chocolate when they tuck him into bed Christmas Eve, knowing full well that Kate's already made him brush his teeth. She'd smooth her fingers through their little boy's hair while the lull of Castle's voice retelling "The Night Before Christmas" puts him to sleep. She'd slip her hand into her husband's and drag him down the stairs to haul all of his toys from Santa out of their bedroom closet.

She'd lay her partner down a short time later, entice him with festive red lace and a glass of spiked eggnog, knowing all too well that their slumber would be cut short with the excited thumping of slippered feet down the stairs at five in the morning.

"Kate?"

"Hmm?" she hums absentmindedly, shaking the thoughts from her head.

"Did you hear what I said?"

She blushes. "Uh, no. Sorry. You wanna repeat that?"

He laughs. "Something you'd like to share with the class?"

"Not particularly," she jokes. She knows he wants children with her; they talked about it months before they'd gotten married. But then there was that whole mess with her mother's case and-

Well, they'd needed the last four months to focus on their marriage and what they meant to each other. Neither of them wanted to complicate the equation quite yet.

But now-

"Kate," he prods gently, nudging her to meet his eyes.

She sighs, her eyes slipping closed for a brief second. "I just can't help but think about what it would be like." She swallows hard, opens her eyes to meet his curious blue gaze. "A Little Castle running around on Christmas Day," she finishes softly.

His smile takes her breath away. He cradles her face in his hands, leaning down to kiss her tenderly. "I think about it, too," he breathes against her lips.

"Yeah?" she asks, hiding a small smile behind the tug of her lip.

He nods. "I mean, I was picturing a mini Katherine Beckett, but why stop at one, huh?" he teases.

She stutters out a laugh. "One at a time, handsome." She curls her fingers around his ear, sweeping her mouth across his jaw. "Love you," she rasps.

"Oh, Kate," he whispers, sliding his hand to the back of her head to fist her hair gently. His mouth is hot on hers, nipping, gentle. She sighs, her body melting into his as her nimble fingers slip the top buttons of his shirt through their holes. "God, can we start now?" he groans.

She reluctantly pulls away, smoothing her fingers over his lips. "I took the last pill for this month today."

"Don't take it tomorrow." He presses his forehead to hers. "Or any day after that, for that matter."

She lets out a breath, startled and pleased. "You sure?"

"Can you think of a reason why we shouldn't do this?" he asks quietly.

She shakes her head, doesn't need to second-guess herself. "No."

So he wraps his arms around her, listening to her soft sighs as he lays her down to love her under the warm, solid press of his body on a cold winter's night.

Love to hear what you think.

Liv