and it's brutal, it's brutal, why can't you see?
it's brutal, it's brutal, where have you been?
cause we're far apart and my lonely heart
finds it hard to get through the night
you pull me out of the dark and now it's light
you pull me out of the dark and now it's light
- "Christmas TV", Slow Club
She doesn't want to get up. To dig her way from the warm, dark cave of their bed and the piles of blankets and tangle of his limbs with hers. Getting up means the weekend would draw to a close, that she would have to pack her duffel bag of her toiletries and find her boarding pass, that she would have to kiss him goodbye in the doorway again.
Goodbyes make her so tired now.
"Snowing out," comes out from somewhere in the tumble of the comforter and throw blankets at her side.
She shifts, snuggling deeper into the cashmere throw she claimed that morning. "You can't see the window," she mumbles, her breath hot under the collapsed blanket fort. "How do you know?"
His face appears, all shadows, next to her. "I can hear the flakes hitting the glass," he explains, quiet as if sharing the world's biggest and most important secret. "Listen."
Even the silence sounds muffled, the wet smack of the snowflakes landing on the window muted.
"I should start getting ready," she sighs, scooting toward the edge of the bed. "Traffic will be a bitch in this weather."
The chill of the floor shocks her out of the cocoon of warmth and captured joy, her toes curling against the hardwood as she snags her robe from over the closet door to combat the cold. She feels him watching her while she rearranges her spare shirt and bathroom bag into the small duffel bag, zipping it up.
Only when she has her shoes on, her scarf wrapped once around her neck with her jacket looped over her arm does he emerge from the bed.
He looks sad, dejected but resigned to his fate.
"You'll be down in two weeks, right?" she asks, shrugging on her coat and working the buttons into the holes. "I took the time off so we'll be able to spend real time together. Maybe go sightseeing or something. Be tourists."
Castle tugs her close by the belt of her coat and she wishes she could feel his fingers through the layers of wool. "Yeah. Come up with a list?"
She tucks herself under his chin, fighting off the feeling that she's abandoning him. "Make the list together," she says. "I haven't had a chance to really see the city so I'm just as new to it as you are."
"Kate, I ha-" He catches himself but she knows. She knows and understands and feels the exact same. Hates that they have to do their lives like this; catching a weekend every so often and hoping someone picks up the Skype call when work drops off. "I love you," he tries instead, three words whispered into her hair.
"Love you too," she responds, pulling back to touch her lips to his. "Promise I'll call when I get to the airport and when I touch down. Might be delayed though. Snow and idiots." She attempts to smile, feeling it fall flat as her elbow starts to ache from holding her duffel in the crook there. "It'll get better, right? This'll get bet-"
He kisses her, quieting the concern before she can finish the thought. "Just travel safe, okay?" he pleads, running his fingers through her hair to keep it behind her ear.
She learned not to look back down the hall as she waits for the elevator. That first time, he looked like a kicked puppy leaning against the doorframe and she doesn't make that mistake again.
The snow lies thick on the sidewalk, slush coming up to her ankles as she stands at the edge of the street to hail a cab. Last year, she almost believed in the spark of magic that comes with the season because he was there with her. He pulled her from the darkness that rolled over the city and her life as the chill swept through the city streets and made her see the joy and good that comes with the holiday lights.
Getting into the back of a taxi to go to the airport to fly back to DC without him doesn't feel like she's honoring that glimpse of magic.
They barely make it into Brooklyn by the time traffic comes to a grinding halt. She gets antsy in the backseat, checking her phone every five minutes for the time. For what, she doesn't know.
She thanks the cab driver when they finally make it to the drop-off, stepping out on the sidewalk. Slivers of winter wind sneak under the hem of her coat during the short walk into the terminal, leaving a landscape of goosebumps on her skin.
Her heart drops when she reads the departures board.
FLIGHT 6463 to DCA: Cancelled
Every flight to the DC area has the red cancellation next to it.
She finds one of the terminal workers who confirms that the storm hit DC hardest and all flights into Reagan, Dulles, and BWI are grounded for the night and possibly into tomorrow morning.
Her first call goes to McCord, informing her partner of the kink in her travel plans. The woman sounds put out but tells her to get back to the capital as soon as possible. She hesitates, though, with her finger over Castle's number, closing the screen after a minute.
Maybe she can give back some of that winter magic.
The cab ride back makes her anxious. Not the same kind of nerves on her way to the airport; those felt wrong and made her skin crawl. This type has her fighting back a smile, so ready to touch him again already.
"Forget something, Miss Beckett?" Eduardo jokes as she pays the second taxi driver while he holds the door for her.
She smiles and returns some quip about leaving her toothbrush upstairs.
But really? Really she left her heart on the fourth floor.
The elevator moves too slowly as if sluggish with the cold. As soon as it stops, she runs down the hall, fumbling for her keys so that as soon as she reaches the door, she slides the correct key into the lock and turns.
It's a Wonderful Life plays on the projector screen that they had moved into the living room yesterday, his head visible over the couch cushions.
"Hey, Castle," she says, just loud enough to be heard over the noise of the Bailey household.
"Kate?" he gasps, popping up for a moment before he scrambles off and around to stand in front of her. "You… But your flight…"
"Cancelled because of the weather." She drops her duffel to the worn wood of the floor. "So. How about another night?"
He catches her up, his fingers strong at her elbows and then banding around her back as he hauls her against him. "Yes, yes, Kate. Yes." His mouth moves along her cheek, soft and excited little kisses that make her grin wildly. "Come on. I'm watching Wonderful Life but we can do The Polar Express after," he says, pulling her toward the couch.
"I'm gonna change first, okay?" she insists, tugging out of his grip. "Give me two minutes."
She strips off her jeans and sweater and finds an oversized t-shirt, one that hangs down to her thighs and with sleeves that cover her hands. On the way back to the living room, she drags a pile of the blankets from the bed behind her like a child.
He already has a gathering of blankets and pillows on the couch, a cozy little haven that she crawls into, curling into his side. Warmth in the white light of the snowfall and the movie paused on the screen.
"I'm glad I'm here," she murmurs into his shoulder, her fingers snagging at the waistband of his pajama pants. "I want to be right here."
Castle loops his arm around her, angling his head down to press a kiss to her temple. "Merry Christmas Eve, Beckett."