She hadn't responded to his last text right away, wanting to let him wonder. However, when the team finally gave up for the night and headed out around 10, she didn't want to risk going all the way over to the loft just to find them asleep.

-Done at the precinct, still want me at your apartment tonight?-

-I *always* want you in my apartment. I have specific room in mind too…-

-In your dreams Castle-

-Don't know what you're talking about, I meant the kitchen –

No need to dignify that with a response. She tossed her phone in her purse with a sigh and carried her stuff down to the locker room. Stripping down to her underwear, she pulled on a pair of black yoga pants and selected a plain turquoise T-shirt. It didn't have any holes, but she wasn't so attached that it would matter if whatever he had planned ruined it. Fully dressed—curiosity had her moving quickly—she stuffed the day's clothes in her bag and slammed her locker door on her way out.

No one came to the door when she knocked, but rather she heard a muffled shout of, "come in, it's open." She ought to scold him for doing that, this was New York after all; a doorman can't keep all the psychos out.

She pushed the door open cautiously, scanning what she could of the apartment. The projector was running and the talking snowman was introducing Rudolf, but no one was sitting on the couch. An idea flashed into her mind and she looked upwards, checking the whole ceiling. No mistletoe. She stepped in and closed the door, feeling at least momentarily safe from ambushes. She then saw that Castle and Alexis were working in the kitchen, but Martha was nowhere to be found.

"Detective Beckett, glad you could make it!" Alexis had spoken it, but the goofy smile on her father's face said it louder. As she approached them she understood why no one had come to the door as well as the need for a change of clothing. Alexis's hands were sticky from the cookie dough she was rolling into balls while Castle's were covered in flour from the lump she imagined he was trying to make into pie crust. More importantly it looked like a tornado had spread their ingredients on everything. A chuckle rose up in her throat. It sure wasn't the way she cooked, but admittedly it had a certain charm.

"Ah yes. You're just in time. We've been needing someone with weapons skills."

She quirked an eyebrow at him, but he pointed to a large collection of apples next to the cutting board.

"It's almost 11 and you haven't even cut the apples yet?"

"What? We've been busy! That's why we need your help."

She made a show of surveying the messy room "Clearly…"

"Yes, okay. Now stop complaining and get to work."

Her eyes narrowed in a clear 'don't tell me what to do' glare. Alexis caught it and giggled, but her father just grinned wider. She consider arguing but figured that probably would have just been petty, so she obliged, settling on a stool by the counter. She spun an apple slowly in her hand, peeling it by pulling the knife towards her thumb. Alexis was doing a good job of making small talk, switching easily between telling stories about herself and interestedly pressing Kate for some of her own. Despite the distraction, a tension was creeping up her spine to the back of her neck. Focus, ignore him, talk with Alexis.

It wasn't working.

"Castle, just stop." The sound of the knife being slammed onto the table made everyone jump.

"What?"

"It's too frustrating to watch, you have no idea what you're doing!" He glanced down. The dough could be charitably described as oblong, thin and cracked on one end, still thick on the other. "You're not keeping the pressure even."

"Well," he smirked and raised his eyebrows, "you're welcome to come and show me just how much pressure you want."

"Ew. Dad!"

"Seriously Castle? That didn't even make sense." She put the apple down and stepped towards him. "Just let me do it."

"No."

She drew up until they were inches apart, her eyes commanding on his. "Go cut the apples."

"Okay, then." His sudden levity in acquiescing startled her enough that she didn't catch his hand until after it had brushed gently across her cheek. Her fingers coiled tightly around his wrist, holding them in close quarters as she stared at him questioningly. Was he really going to do this now, in front of his daughter?

But he was staring at the place where he had touched her—and laughing? She yanked his hand back to where she could see that it was covered in flour.

"Ohhh…" She tried to look angry but the corners of her mouth were traitorously curling upwards. "This. Means. War."

She darted for the bag of flour, but he twisted his arm towards her thumb, breaking the hold on his wrist. With both hands now free she snatched for the entire bag. He might have a head start now, but when she caught him, he was going to get it good.

Castle weaved through the living room, narrowly avoiding the projector and trying to circle back around to catch her. From the look in her eyes, the chase instinct he had seen directed at so many suspects had kicked in. He tried the opposite sides of the table fake out, but as it turns out that didn't work so well on a trained detective. Just as she had him cornered against the couch, ready to release a handful of the white powder, he shouted, "Wait! You'll wreck the furniture."

Kate took a startled step back, feeling guilty. Anything Castle owned had to be worth a small fortune. She could only imagine what he might work out as "repayment" for that.

He straightened up from the position that could only be described as cowering, bringing them face-to-face again.

"We can continue this back in the kitchen." He stepped beside her like he was heading there, but then slapped his floured hand her butt and took off like a bat out of hell, yelling, "Really Beckett? Do you even know me?"

Oh, she knew him. Too bad he was going to have to die now.

They had to open a new back of flour in order to finish the pie crusts after Beckett and Alexis had joined forces to get him so thoroughly he looked like a ghost.

Twenty minutes later the crusts and fillings were ready but the cookies were in the oven. In the down time, Beckett was showing Alexis how to make a lattice top on the cherry pie and pretending not to notice Castle staring at her. He couldn't help it, though. Seeing the two of them together like that pretty much illustrated everything he wanted for Christmas.

"Hello, my darlings!" Martha burst through the door, looking the picture of the Christmas Spirit—a few drinks in.

"Good evening, mother"

"Ah Richard, having flour battles again?" She looked them all over, "and losing, I see."

Castle's gaze flicked to the perfect white hand print on Kate's tight black pants. "Depends on your definition of victory."

Hope you enjoyed that. I'll be disappearing into the black hole that is chemistry finals for the next 3 days, but after that, this should be wrapped up tout de suite. A special thanks to everyone who reviewed or put this on alert—you make me smile.