Wonderland, The Winter Edition.
AN: I live in Australia which essentially means I've never had a real winter, let alone one over the Christmas season. That said, I'm headed to Europe this December and consequently I'm so many levels of excited it's beyond ridiculous. In honour of my overwhelming enthusiasm for the wintery Christmas period I shall be adding numerous Christmas themed one shots to this over the coming weeks. Enjoy, and Merry Christmas! (It's not too soon, right?)
Kate Beckett links ice-skating with her mother. More so since she died. Before then it was merely a memory connected to Christmas and softly falling snow. Now it's about so much more. It's about precious quality time. It's about love. It's one of the many activities that she now associates with parenting, family and cherishing the ones you hold dear.
That's probably why she's here for the first time in years, Castle's gloved hand clasped with determined tightness around her own, palms lopsidedly embracing. Her cheeks are tinged pink with cold and the emotion of it all. Her are lips frozen in an exuberant smile of overwhelming contentment. She should be shivering, gliding through the winter air, her exposed skin numb, yet the warmth of the memories they are forming is radiating from within. The heat of Castle's gaze on her only adding to the sensation.
A man skates haphazardly by them, jolting her from her thoughts, his movements jerky and lacking the careful coordination of a practised skater.
"Definitely more coordinated than him," Castle nudges her, nodding in the man's direction, a soft, yet proud smile following his words.
"Yes," Beckett nods, a tinkling laugh rolling off her tongue, the inner joy taking any opportunity to escape out into the world. Despite the murder and mayhem of everyday life, tonight the world seems like a spectacular place. The combination of glittering fairy lights and small flakes of snow dot the night sky with a mesmerising glow. Schools of happy, beaming New Yorkers line the ice rink filling the air with merry chatter and bouts of laughter. The mood is infectious. The holiday spirit spreading with all the proficiency of an incurable disease. Unstoppable and uncontainable. Beckett finds herself glad she's not at all immune to it. For years her mother's death provided the ultimate immunity, the joy of the season didn't even come close to reaching her. But now she is happily infected, like the rest of the city.
Little hands collide with the back of her legs and Castle grips her tighter in an attempt to steady her. She shoots him a quick, thankful smile. The warmth of her joy may not be enough to counteract the heady combination of wet and cold. She certainly appreciates the support her husband provides.
"George!" the condescending sigh of the pouting seven year old almost has Beckett stifling a giggle. "I told you not to skate into Mommy. You almost knocked her over," miss seven adds, her tone superior and knowledgeable.
"Emma," Castle warns gently. "Speak nicely to your brother. Mommy's fine, no blood, no foul," he winks at their daughter. Her petite, pink nose scrunches up in response.
"Gross, Daddy." Castle beams at her, extending his free hand, coaxing her to his side. She takes it eagerly. Castle has a way of making all his girl's feel like Daddy's special princess. Emma has spent her life just as captivated by her father as Alexis has. Beckett has made no secret that she's always loved his fathering side. It's probably half of what won her over in the first place.
Her son is whimpering at her back. Evidently he took his sister's words seriously. She glances over her shoulder, her eyes meeting a mess of windblown brown hair.
"Sweetie," she murmurs gently, tugging her hand from Castle's to wrap her arms around the little figure teetering on the ice.
"I'm sorry, Mommy," he whispers, his piercing blue eyes meeting hers in sincerity.
"It's fine, baby," she croons. "I'd much rather you grab onto me than fall over on the hard ice." Her son hiccups a sob and nods in acceptance.
"Okay," he breathes, relief colouring his tone.
"Okay," she agrees. "Now you want to show me how this whole ice-skating thing is done?" she smiles. He beams up at her in response, his eyes crinkling in a perfect reflection of his father's. It sends Beckett's heart swelling with undeniable pride. This little creature and his sister are the ultimate culmination of her and Castle's love. Nothing can erase the place they fill in her heart.
George's movements are only slightly unsteady as he clasps his mother's hand tightly and tugs her along the ice. Emma glances back and pulls on her father's hand to wait for them. Castle wraps her hand in his once again as they skate up to them. Their little family linked, a chain across the ice. Their movements are slow, other skaters whizzing around them. Beckett doesn't notice them. She's lost in their little world of ice, broad grins and adoration. This is their winter wonderland.