Prompt: "We're both Santa's elves for the mall's "Santa's grotto" this year."


Kate Beckett in an elf costume is a dream come true.

The jolly green dress with the red velvet detailing hugs her slim figure so well, the candy cane colored tights accentuating her long, toned legs, and he can barely handle how cute she looks in the hat, the way the bell hanging from the tip of the headwear jingles every time she moves.

"Castle, we are undercover, stop ogling me," she mutters, smacking him with a piece of the candy cane decor lining the path to Santa.

"But you're an elf," he whispers back, as if she doesn't already recognize this. "A very hot elf."

"And so are you," she mutters, glaring at him from beneath her noisy, little green hat. "Now go stand with the suspect-"

"Santa," he corrects and ooh, he's going to get into so much trouble if he keeps pushing her buttons like this. But it's so much fun.

"Stick close to Santa," Kate growls, stepping in closer to him, her eyes sweeping over his lips. "And maybe, if you behave, I'll wear the elf costume again for you sometime."

Castle's eyebrows hitch to his hairline and Kate smirks, her eyes a vibrant green against the crimson and emerald of the costume as she adjusts the collar of his own uniform.

"Under very different circumstances," she adds, her voice far too sultry for where they are, and he almost lunges for her right then, but she anticipates his reaction, skirting around him towards the line of children waiting for their time with Santa the potential murderer.

His job is to escort the children off of Santa's lap, to hand them a candy cane, and wish them a Merry Christmas before returning to their waiting parent all while keeping an eye on their suspect. It's easy for the first hour, no trouble arising, and he's actually having a good time. He thinks the kids are enjoying him more than the unenthusiastic Santa they came here for, but halfway through the line of children, there's an upset on Santa's lap.

The little girl in their impatient Santa's lap is crying , babbling in a foreign language Castle doesn't understand, though he would bet money that it's Russian. The mother at his side is doing the same, both of them looking oh so helpless, looking at him as if he has the answers to their questions, and he panics, scrambling for his phone and the translation app he has stored away on it. But before he can retrieve the device, one of the mall cops is asking the crowd if anyone speaks the mother and daughter's language as the girl begins to cry harder, repeating the same unintelligible phrase over and over again as her mother tries and fails to console her. It's then that he sees Kate striding up from the back of the line, meeting his concerned gaze with a reassuring nod.

She greets the mother's eyes with a soft welcoming of words he doesn't catch and then lowers herself to the daughter's level at Santa's knee, murmuring gentle words to her, receiving a choked reply.

"It's her first Christmas away from home," Kate explains even though their Santa looks as though he could care less. "All she wants for Christmas is for it to feel like home."

His wife's eyes are turning glassy and his start to sting too when the little girl crawls from Santa's lap into her arms. His breath catches at the sight of it - his wife standing with the tiny girl clinging to her, Kate whispering more words he can't decipher into her hair and adding a comforting swaying to her gait as she comes towards them. He's caught glimpses of her interacting with the children for the last hour, but no other encounter caused his throat to swell like this.

"Cпасибо." He hears the mother say when Kate steps down from Santa's platform, returning the sad, homesick child to her mother. And he doesn't know much Russian, nothing more than a few words and phrases here and there, but he knows that one.

Thank you.

"Пожалуйста," Kate murmurs, stroking the girl's long dark hair, receiving a smile in return. "Все будет хорошо."

When mother and daughter leave, and before Kate is forced back to her station, Castle reaches for her arm.

"What did you say to her?"

Beckett offers him a smile that's tainted with sorrow, but a touch of hope as well.

"I told her that everything will be okay."

"Hey," he says softly, catching her fingers, feeling Santa giving them a curious glance. "I love you."

Her smile is bright like the lights decorating the grotto and she squeezes his hand.

"Love you too, now get back to work, head elf."