HOME FOR CHRISTMAS
A S4 Christmas
DECEMBER 23
"You really have to work on Christmas? And Christmas Eve?"
Kate shrugs as she erases the white board, taking pleasure in putting away the DMV pictures of the victim and suspects, taping up the evidence box. What she's not looking forward to is the paperwork.
"Yeah, I drew the short straw this year," she lies.
He doesn't need to know that she works every Christmas, so she doesn't sit at home, alone, thinking about how much she misses her mom. Work provides a distraction, one she desperately needs, especially this year.
Because this year she wouldn't just think about her mom. She'd think about Rick, too, long to be by his side, held back only by the last bit of wall she can't seem to knock down. But he goes all out for Christmas, he'd told her as much last year, and she isn't ready to take that leap yet.
So she'd volunteered to work on Christmas, just like every other year since she'd joined the force.
"When do you get off? You're more than welcome to come for dinner," Castle says as he grabs his coat, slipping his arms through it as they walk towards the elevator.
She shrugs again. "Six, but this is a bad time of year, so there's no telling." Her hands slip into the pockets of her jeans, and she hunches her shoulders around her ears. "Don't worry about me, Castle. I'll be keeping watch."
Castle grins. "Like Santa. Without the presents."
"Or the beer gut, or the white beard," she teases, nudging his arm with her elbow. "Hopefully I don't catch a case, but if I do, I hope I can deliver justice for Christmas."
"Justice for Christmas, I like that. I might have to steal it." They come to a stop at the elevator, and Castle turns to face her. He opens his mouth, like he's going to say something, but seems to think twice, and just smiles. "Well, you're officially invited for Christmas dinner. Plan on being at my place at 6:30, unless you catch a case. Just let me know."
Kate chuckles. "Okay. Thanks, Castle." They're silent as they wait for the elevator, and she quenches the desire to lift on her toes and brush her lips against his.
She wants to. Oh, does she want to. But she just smiles at him, ignoring the longing in his eyes, and when the elevator announces its arrival with a ding she watches him step in.
"Merry Christmas, Kate," he says as the doors start to close.
She smiles and gives him a little wave of her fingers. "Merry Christmas, Castle."
She catches the murder shortly before her shift is supposed to end.
Ryan and Esposito haven't left yet, but she waives them off, bids them a Merry Christmas. They're both off the 24th and 25th, and the last thing she wants is to get in the way of them spending Christmas with their respective loved ones. So she insists she'll be fine, will be able to solve it with plenty of time to spare before Christmas dinner in a couple days.
The look they share when she informs them of Castle's invitation is priceless, and if she hadn't been in the middle of making another coffee she would have given them one of her best glares.
Despite her self-control, though, she still manages to burn herself on the steam.
It turns out to be very indicative of how the case goes.
A body is found outside a homeless shelter, and while she first assumes it's someone who's been living on the streets, she soon finds out that it's a visitor from Ithaca.
She always dreads notifying next of kin, but this time of year is harder than the rest. And needing to make a phone call is ten times worse. But she picks up the phone a few minutes after seven, and dials the victim's home number.
The wife's reaction is not what she expected. She almost sounds relieved.
Kate doesn't believe in coincidence, or her "magic gut" as Castle has called it. But she's been a cop long enough that she trusts her instincts, and her instincts tell her that something isn't right.
It's late, but she finds out where the victim was staying, and the mystery deepens. He'd insisted on a room by the elevator, had requested a new one on a lower floor after inspecting it, and refusing to explain why. The front desk clerk who had helped him had been puzzled at his actions. He'd been jumpy, almost paranoid, frequently glancing over his shoulder and waiting for multiple elevators to make sure he got on one alone.
A little more research has her even more confused. He'd recently canceled his life insurance plan, been making odd phone calls all hours of the night, and even hired a PI.
There isn't much Kate can do after 8 pm two days before Christmas, not from the city, at least. But Ithaca is just a few hours drive, so she makes a phone call, grabs her briefcase, and heads home. She'll pack a bag and drive there tonight. She needs to talk to the victim's wife. In person.
DECEMBER 24
It starts to snow in the late afternoon, as she's putting handcuffs on the wife's wrists. Her trip had been worthwhile: the wife had hired someone to kill her husband, as she thought he was having an affair and would leave her with nothing; in reality, he truly had been working long hours at work, and had been in the city to interview for a new, better job. His apparent suspicions about being followed had been legitimate, as the hitman had, in fact, come from Ithaca.
The hitman is already in custody, and as Kate waits while the wife is processed for transport to the city, she watches the snow get thicker and thicker. The forecast had said possible snow flurries; if there had been any indication of the potential blizzard that seems to be forming, she wouldn't have made the trip.
By the time they're ready to go, the snow is falling so thick, she can barely see two feet in front of her. She's driven in the snow, sure, and she has chains, but a quick look at traffic tells her what she already knew: she's not going anywhere.
Gates is less than happy that she's snowed in four hours away, but until the storm clears, there's no other choice. So Kate gets her bag from her car, and claims a cot in the overnight break room before calling Castle.
"Miss me already?" he teases in greeting, and Kate can imagine the quirk of his lips and sparkle in his eyes, feels her face flush at the deep baritone husk of his voice.
"You wish," she responds, grinning when he chuckles in her ear. "You missed out on a helluva case."
"Oh?"
"Yeah." She fills him in on the case, on the hitman-hiring wife, and he bemoans that he missed out, claims that would have been his theory. She scoffs at that, of course.
"We can discuss this more at dinner tomorrow," Castle argues. "Maybe my mother and Alexis will side with me for once."
Kate falls silent at the mention of dinner. She's still hopeful that the roads will clear enough so she can drive back, but a glance outside tells her that the snow has only let up a little. There looks to be a foot or more on the ground, and she's sure traffic is at a standstill.
"About that…"
"Oh, no. But you solved the case!"
"Yeah…" Kate pinches the bridge of her nose. She hates this, hates how disappointed he sounds, wishes that circumstances were different. Maybe then she'd have been off, at his loft already, maybe stressing out about whether he'd like his present rather than stuck in this foreign precinct, destined to sleep on an old, uncomfortable cot. "Thing is, there was a snowstorm-"
"What are you talking about?" he interrupts, and she recognizes the whoosh of his couch as he presumably sits. "Beckett, where are you?"
She sighs. "Ithaca."
"What?" He clears his throat, and his voice drops back down to its normal tone when he speaks again. "Why are you in Ithaca?"
"I couldn't do what I needed in the city, so I came up here." She looks out the window, feels the first tendrils of hope when she notices that the snow has finally stopped. "Unfortunately, the roads are a mess. I'm snowed in for the night."
"Damn," he breathes. "Do you need anything? I can call someone? I'll get you anything you need."
She chuckles to herself. This man. "I appreciate it, but no, I'm good. Anyways, hopefully I can still make it tomorrow, but depending on the weather, I might be stuck here."
"I understand," he assures her. "Just be safe, okay?"
"Okay." She smiles, even though he can't see her. "Night, Castle."
"Until tomorrow, Kate."
DECEMBER 25
She hardly sleeps.
The cot is uncomfortable, and she's awake every hour, checking the weather outside, and the forecast. According to the traffic reports the roads are icy, but bare of most traffic, save for the cars off the side of the road.
She finally gives up on sleep a little before six, and she gets a towel from the desk sergeant, takes a shower in the locker room. By the time she's dressed and snags some coffee, it's after seven, and the sun is just starting to peek over the horizon.
A quick check of the weather tells her it's started to warm already, and with any luck, she thinks she'll be able to make it back to the city. Maybe even in time for Christmas dinner.
She and the precinct captain agree to keep the wife and hitman - the whole damn reason she came here, she grumbles to herself - in Ithaca until they can be transported, so Kate leaves by herself a few minutes after nine.
When two hours have passed and she's barely ten miles out of the city, though, she knows that luck isn't on her side.
She's bored, she's frustrated, and she's out of coffee. The idea to call Castle crosses her mind more than once, but she doesn't want to bother him on Christmas, and if he'd know that she's on the road, he'd spend all day worrying. She refuses to let him spend his Christmas worrying about her.
The traffic starts to thin around noon, when she's made it another thirty miles, and manages to find an open rest area to stop at long enough to stretch her legs, relieve herself, and get a bite to eat. He calls her a couple minutes into her stop, but she's vague, doesn't tell him that she's coming.
"I'm going to wait it out. Merry Christmas, Castle," is how she ends the conversation.
Her luck turns for the better again as she continues her drive, and it becomes apparent that the snowstorm didn't make it to the city when the roads become bare about a hundred miles from the city. Traffic thins considerably, and she's finally able to go the speed limit, but only for an hour. The closer she gets to Manhattan the thicker the traffic becomes, and while she knows Castle would want her to drive safe and not worry about getting to dinner on time if at all, she can't help but keep an eye on the clock.
Traffic is at a standstill as she enters the city, and she curses out loud when she's almost side swiped by another car. It's already after six, and at the rate she's going, it'll take her at least an hour to drive just the few short miles left to his building.
Shit.
She almost calls him, to let him know. But she won't let him hold up dinner on the off chance she'll make it at a reasonable time. It's not worth getting his hopes up if she doesn't.
She finally allows herself a sigh of relief when she finds a spot just a block from his building. Finally. Her stomach is growling, and if she's honest with herself, she's relieved. Relieved she made it in one piece, that she'll be able to spend even part of Christmas with him.
Maybe with Castle, Christmas can start to feel magical again. He brought light back into her life, into her heart, maybe he can do it with Christmas too.
"Merry Christmas, Detective Beckett," Eduardo greets her when she walks through the lobby, unwrapping her scarf from around her neck. It may be dry, but it's cold. "Here to see Mr. Castle?"
Kate gives him a smile. "How many times do I have to tell you to call me Kate?" she teases, and they both know it's a rhetorical question. He never will. "Merry Christmas."
The nerves hit her on the elevator, and she fiddles with her phone, turning the screen off and on. Her finger hovers over his name, and she's tempted to call him, to text him, something, to make sure he's home.
It's ridiculous. Of course he's home.
Even if she'd never been to his apartment before, she'd know which door was his the minute she'd step off the elevator. The wreath on the door is as almost as wide as the door itself, and matching, although smaller, wreaths hang on either side. She has no doubt that the inside is just as lavish, and for the first time in over a decade, she's looking forward to seeing Christmas decorations.
It isn't Castle that opens the door to her knocks, but instead his daughter, whose look of surprise probably rivals her own.
"Kate!"
The hug that Alexis pulls her into takes her by surprise, but Kate smiles as she wraps her arms around the teenager. "Merry Christmas, Alexis," she says with a smile when she pulls away.
Alexis hangs her coat in the closet before leading her to the kitchen. "We didn't think you'd make it."
Kate's eyes sweep the room, and she's just in awe as the first day she saw the loft. There's a huge tree against the far wall, at least eight feet high, and it's so full of lights and garland and ornaments that she can barely see the branches.
As she takes in the decorations, the village on the sofa table, the wreaths and garland on every window and hung from the bookshelves, even the stockings hanging from his mantle, she's shaken from her stupor with the sound of a chair clattering to the floor.
Her head snaps to the source of the sound, and she sees Castle standing, looking sheepish, and she smiles. "Are you okay?" she asks, taking in Martha's amused look from next to him.
"You-you're here," he says quietly, then clears his throat and takes a step towards her. "What are you doing here?"
Kate shrugs. "I didn't want to miss dinner." She jerks her head towards the tree, and his gaze follows her motion. "Impressive decorations, Castle."
"Thanks," he breathes, his hand lifting between them, hovering for a few moments before dropping back to his side. After a few moments of just staring at her, he lifts his hand again, this time to take her arm and guide her towards the table. "Come, eat. You must be hungry."
Kate opens her mouth to protest, but her stomach growls, and she feels her face flush even as Castle chuckles. "A little," she admits.
"Well, you're in luck, because I just happen to have a ton of food."
It doesn't escape her notice that Martha and Alexis disappear upstairs shortly after they clean up, leaving Kate alone with Rick. She flicks an amused glance at the staircase, but accepts a glass of wine anyway and follows him into the living room.
"So," Castle says after a long sip of his own wine, "you drove from snowy, icy Ithaca today, just so you could make it to Christmas dinner?"
Kate lifts a shoulder. "Well, you made it sound so extravagant, I didn't want to miss out."
Castle rests his free hand on the back of the couch, and his fingers twitch as they stretch towards her. She looks at them for a few moments, debating with herself, before reaching out and hooking her pointer finger in his.
The look he gives her is priceless.
"I haven't done Christmas since Mom died," she admits into the stillness of the loft, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I haven't wanted to. Our decorations were still up, so putting them away…"
"It must have felt like you were putting Christmas away," Rick finishes for her.
She nods and dips her hand into the collar of her shirt, grips the necklace she wears. Her mom's ring between her fingers, she gazes at it, the visual reminder of what she lost. "So I work. Every Christmas, since I started on the force. It allows someone else to be with their family, to continue their Christmas traditions. And I continue mine."
"Kate…" he mutters, gripping the rest of her fingers, wrapping his hand tight around hers. "Thank you for telling me. If this-" He motions to the room with a jerk of his head. "-is too much, you don't have to stay. I'm grateful you came at all." He chuckles. "And through a snowstorm, at that."
Kate mirrors his chuckle with one of her own. "It wasn't that bad." She shifts her gaze to him, and he's looking at her with such softness, such tenderness, that she almost closes the distance between them and kisses him.
But she doesn't.
Instead, she looks back down at their locked hands. "I wanted to be here," she says softly, tracing her thumb over his knuckles. "I haven't celebrated Christmas in twelve years. But I wanted to celebrate it with you."
"I'm glad." He squeezes her fingers. "Another glass?" he asks, motioning to her empty wine glass.
"Sure, I'd love one."
They finish off a second bottle while watching a movie, and by the end of it she's fading, fast. She's migrated closer to Castle during the movie, and her last conscious thought as her head drops to his shoulder is that he makes a really good pillow, and she wouldn't mind waking up with him even more often.
Soon, she tells herself as she fades into sleep, feels his arm drape around her shoulders and tug her closer. Soon.
A/N: For Mak, aka mrs-chanandler-bong21 on Tumblr, for the 2016 Castle Secret Santa. I hope you enjoy, and Happy New Year! (As always I am in debt to Callie for her willingness to look over and improve.)