Castle Christmas Special

Happy Holidays!

Thanks for coming along with me on a new Christmas adventure. Don't worry. Advent has its place here, as well as Close Encounters, Frog at the Bottom of the Well, Unvanquished, and That Familiar Feeling among others. The idea is that each AU gets a chance to tell its Christmas story. I'll mark the chapter with the AU in which it is appearing so that you'll know what universe we're in, and if the story requires more than one chapter, then it will be labeled: Vice - Chapter 1, Vice - Chapter 2, etc.

If you have questions, if you have requests, let me know! I've completely written about three-fourths of these, but that's not to say I can't include something that you've long loved and want to see more of. I plan on posting one every day of December.

I wish you and yours peace and hope.

Vice

"Beckett," Castle hissed through the phone.

"Shit," she groaned, jerking out of her seat at the cramped desk. "I'm so sorry."

"You're missing her play," he said tightly.

She shifted out from her corner, dodged the officer coming her direction with the results of the query she'd sent down to the records room. "I lost track of time. I'll leave now - I'll make it before the intermission, and then I'll go to tomorrow's show too. I just - I got an idea and forgot everything else."

"I understand the case is... I understand," he said. He sounded like he was hiding, whispering to her from behind closed doors. "But Alexis doesn't."

She gestured for the officer to leave the files on her desk, signed for them with a quick jot of her pen. She locked the cases in her top drawer even as she reached for her coat. "I know that, Castle," she said, trying to remain calm. "I'm leaving right now."

"You should have left two hours ago."

How many times could she apologize? Though maybe he'd hear it when she really meant it. She couldn't apologize for doing her job, for doing what no one had ever done for her - giving the victims' families some closure, an answer to why.

He sighed. "Alexis thought we'd all have dinner together."

"I'm leaving now," she said again. He couldn't keep dragging her conscience through hot coals just because she left for work early and got home late. This was the job and he'd known that going in. She was a green detective trying to earn her stripes and this was her mother's case. She finally had access and the authority to open it again - all she needed was one good reason, one little thing the detective of record had missed, one shred of doubt as to the official conclusion.

"Beckett," he said. A long pause and the he sighed as if giving in. "I'll re-enact her lines during intermission for you."

She felt her lips lift. "Thank you, thank you. I'll be there soon. I'm coming now, Castle."

"Yeah," he said, but it didn't sound like agreement. And then he hung up on her.

She ended the call with a press of her thumb, stared at her phone for a stupid moment.

"Yo, Beckett," came a voice. She glanced up and saw the guy who'd transferred in from the 54th after the Internal Affairs's investigation had cleared him. He was a decent detective - dogged and loyal - and they'd had a few tentative, burly attempts at friendship. He didn't seem to like Castle though.

"Detective Esposito," she said formally, jabbing the elevator call button again. "You going down?"

"Yeah. You were off a while ago?" he asked. But he said it more like he already knew and was curious what she'd been working on.

"Yeah, I was." She didn't explain she'd been researching her mother's case; she still couldn't quite expose that soft underbelly to anyone else. Not yet. Bad enough that Castle kept asking after it, wanting to dig deeper, wanting her to talk to him about it. She was close - she could feel pieces swimming just out of her reach that might break the whole thing wide open. She wanted to keep it to herself for now.

"I guess that's not your kid?" He was nodding his head towards the photo on her cramped desk.

Beckett chuckled. "What clued you in, Espo?" The nickname had just popped out, but that's what cops did anyway. He didn't seem to mind.

"She's cute," he gave. "But you'll get the hang of it. You seem to be a natural."

Beckett let out a breath, surprised by his reassurance. She made a fist and punched him lightly on the shoulder. "You trying to butter me up, Espo? You're being awfully nice."

He shrugged. "Maybe I can tell who's a good detective, who I wanna hitch my wagon to, you know?"

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. You're good, Detective Beckett."

She grinned back at him. At least she was good at something.

Beckett found the diamond ring inside one of his dress shoes on the specialty shelf inside their closet. She'd knocked the pair of shoes off when she'd been rearranging her side, hanging up sweaters she'd pulled out of storage. The velvet jewelry box had rattled and skittered across the wooden floor.

She sank to her knees and slowly picked it up, her heart skittering just like the box had. She pressed her thumb to the seam of the lid, ready to flip it open, but she stopped.

It was a ring - the shape of the box left no doubt - but he was hiding it; he wanted to surprise her.

She wanted to be surprised.

It was three weeks before her birthday and the air had just turned brisk, and she wanted to be surprised.

She already knew what her answer would be.

Beckett put it carefully back inside his dress shoe.

"This is Agent Sorensen; he's with the FBI. Please make him feel welcome, and extend every courtesy to our law enforcement brothers. We work together and we'll get this little boy back to his parents."

Beckett let out a frustrated breath as Montgomery ceded the floor to the FBI Agent - a good-looking man with an intense air, as if he was used to charming and manipulating his way through life. But when he spoke, he was knowledgable and at ease, and he made the room like him.

Quite a feat for a fed.

So they got to work.

Their kidnapping case was right in the middle of things when Beckett got the phone call. She saw the number on the display and cursed to herself, holding up a finger to Will and begging for a second. He seemed put out by her, but Beckett had to take this.

She stepped out of the group of investigators and headed for the break room, answering quickly. "Castle."

"Hey. Uh... where are you, Kate?"

A thrill washed through her every time he said her first name like that, like he knew her, knew intimate things and places about her. And he did. "I'm stuck here. I told you that homicide led to a kidnapping? We're focused on trying to find the little boy."

"Oh, is that the stuff on the news?"

"Yeah," she sighed, pacing the room.

"Looked gruesome. He witnessed his mother's-"

"Yeah, Castle," she got out, closing her eyes a moment. The downside to having her boyfriend understand her so intimately was that hearing his voice, that soft and supportive rumble, in the middle of such chaos and violence made her feel weak. Like she needed to sit down.

"Hey, I wanted to see if... you know it's your birthday, Kate."

"Oh," she said dumbly, grunting when she realized it had totally sneaked up on her. "It is my birthday. Oh no, you planned something."

The ring. She cursed herself and pressed a hand to her eyes.

"I planned... I had reservations for dinner, Kate, but a kidnapping-"

"The FBI is here," she said quickly. "Don't - I can - I'll try to see if I can't..."

"You really can't," he said. "This isn't one you back out of."

"I'm not sure I'm exactly necessary here."

"Of course you are. You're the best detective in that place. And you and I both know the FBI couldn't find their asses with both hands."

"Castle," she chided, but she was laughing. She'd needed that. "This guy, Will, actually isn't screwing it up. So give him credit."

"Oh. Will, huh?"

"Yeah. He knows what he's doing."

"Huh."

She frowned at the quality of that noise, but she couldn't decipher it. "Look, I'm going to see how it goes for the rest of the afternoon. If I can... maybe you can get the car service and come pick me up late? I know you had a plan but I hope you can be flexible?"

"I'll take it. Did you wear heels to work?"

She laughed softly, wondered what image he was painting for himself. "I did. Why?"

"Oh," he chuckled back. "No, I wasn't... just wondering if you'd be dressy enough for our reservations."

"Oh, heels, yes," she said. The ring. He'd had reservations and he was imagining it one way and now...

Well, it'd be a fun story, right?

"I'll let you know," she promised.

She was going to do whatever it took to get out of here, make that dinner date for her birthday.

Beckett excused herself to get coffee, give herself a chance to breathe. The tip hotline had been nonstop for two hours and she was feeling it in the hunch of her shoulders. She rolled her head on her neck and stared at the espresso machine.

Castle had bought it after his first day here. He'd only been haunting the bullpen with her, learning the ropes, but he'd pronounced their breakroom coffee pot a villainous evil and sent the espresso machine the next day. She'd been mortified.

And now she was proud. If a little at a loss. She still had no idea how to use the thing, and she was sorely tempted to call Castle and have him show up to make her coffee for her birthday.

"It's daunting, isn't it?" came a voice.

She glanced over her shoulder to find Will Sorensen striding up to the counter. He reached past her for the evil coffee pot, poured the sludge straight into his mug. "I'm a simple man. I like simple coffee."

She glanced at the doughnut he was nabbing from the box of stale leftovers on the table. "Your sprinkles say otherwise," she noted.

He laughed, turning back to her, raising both mug and doughnut in salute. "Got me. I'm in love with sprinkles."

Kind of silly for an FBI agent, she thought, but it made him human. "How many of these cases do you resolve successfully?" she asked. Even though she didn't want to know.

He bowed his head and eased to the counter beside her. "You don't want to know."

She flinched at the echo of her own mental words and turned to busy herself with the idea of coffee. She longed for the espresso, but she'd have to make do with the precinct's stiff brew - she just didn't have time to put in the work.

She felt Sorensen's eyes on her as she poured a mug, felt his regard as she stirred in creamer.

"Your Captain told me you've only been doing this a year," he said then.

She lifted her head to look at him, wrapped her fingers around the heat of the mug. "Thirteen months," she defended. She heard how stupid she sounded. She was suddenly glad she was wearing a pair of her highest heels; it put her at his level, made him have to look straight into her eyes.

"You're good. You catch things even I'm not thinking of."

She let out a breath and smiled softly, proud of it, proud of the work she'd done to be this good so soon after her promotion. She wanted-

"What are you doing?" she said stupidly. He'd leaned in closer and she was frozen.

"You're very, very good," he murmured and his lips brushed hers.

There was a second where she was too stunned to do anything at all, where the too-smooth slide of his lips blanked her whole being, and then she surged to awareness and stepped back, pushing on his shoulder to hold him off.

He didn't stumble; he only watched her.

She pressed her mouth into a line, placed her coffee mug on the counter so it wouldn't make her look like she was hiding behind it. Power; that's what these boys respected.

"I'm not interested," she said clearly. "It's flattering, but it won't happen."

"Give it time," he suggested, a shrug and a crooked smile. His eyes were beautiful, she noted ridiculously.

"No," she insisted. "Even if - no. I'm - I have a partner."

"Oh." His face flushed. "You're not into - okay. I'm sorry. I was getting vibes that I clearly-"

"No," she laughed, her own face flaming now. "Not that it's any of your business, but I mean. My boyfriend - we live together and I can't see bringing you home."

And then Sorensen laughed too, rubbing a hand down his face. "I apologize. That was forward of me-"

"Which I guess usually works for you."

He groaned and sank back against the breakroom counter. "Yes, all right. My humiliation is complete. Thank you."

She laughed again and whatever tension there might have been was gone now. She liked him, forward as he was, and she could see how - if she wasn't with Castle, Will would be totally appealing.

But she was with someone. And suddenly she wanted very badly to hear his voice.

"Excuse me," she said, still smiling at him as she took her coffee mug up again. "I have a phone call to make."

"Oh no, please don't tell him. He's going to beat me up. He's probably downstairs, isn't he? He's Narcotics. I can tell. Your boyfriend is probably twice my size and carrying his gun right now."

Kate laughed again, her phone in her fingers, and she shook her head. "He's twice your size but he's a writer. His weapon is his words, and that's bad enough."

But she left Will to the breakroom coffee, and she dialed her boyfriend. If he couldn't come down here to make her espresso, he could at least use those words of his to take the edge off.

They found the boy.

It was not the reunion she'd hoped for, and she couldn't get his face out of her mind. Will enveloped her in a quick but fierce hug. "Sometimes this is the best we can offer. At least they know."

It didn't feel like it was much better - knowing. It felt like her mother's death all over again somehow.

Castle met her in the lobby and took one look at her face and drew her into a better embrace, one that supported. "We're going home," he whispered.

They didn't go out to dinner; they watched Disney movies on the couch with Alexis and her baby-sitter Trina, ate messy mac and cheese from a box, and Kate fell asleep with her head on his shoulder.

It felt too heavy, too wrong, to ask about the ring.