February 7, 1981
"No!" squealed and squirmed Katie as Johanna attempted to sit her on the potty once again. Johanna and Jim had been trying to start potty training Katie over the course of the last four months, but it was still yet to be remotely successful. Even at the tender age of two, young Katie's stubborn streak was present; she certainly was determined not to be told how to do it.
"Katie, if you go I'll give you a jellybean," offered Johanna in the form of a bribe.
"No!" Katie protested, determined not to give in "Jellybeans are yucky," she lied, screwing her face up for effect.
"That's not true," said Johanna "You were eating them yesterday," she reminded.
"No," replied Katie defiantly, shaking her head.
"Okay, maybe next time," Johanna sighed. This was proving to be a long and tenuous process.
February 10, 1981
Jim had walked out of the room for a second, it was only half a second later when Katie realised that she needed to go. Not just go anywhere, but go to the toilet.
Seeing as Jim wouldn't be returning for what seemed like one thousand years to Katie, but in reality was only a few minutes, she took the situation into her own hands, pushed herself up from the ground and toddled off in the direction of the bathroom.
She nudged the already ajar door open with her tiny hand, pushed the door far enough to give herself some privacy, but not enough to actually close it; she couldn't quite reach the doorknob yet.
Moving to stand in front of the green potty, pulled down her pink leggings and training pants, flinging them into the nearby corner and lowering herself down onto the potty, squirming to find a comfortable position to sit.
Katie sat and waited. Something was supposed to happen, right? She wiggled her toes and looked around the room while willing herself to hurry up and go already. Then suddenly, she felt it; the warm stream of relief. Obviously, it wasn't as if she'd never experienced this before, in fact she had plenty of times, but there was something so satisfying about being able to do it all by yourself.
She finished up, grabbed her leggings and training pants, sat on the floor, pulled them over her feet and back up before heading to the sink. She pulled out the stepping stool from underneath, stepped up onto it, turned the tap on, rubbed the soap on her hands and rinsed them underneath the running water, just like Johanna had shown her countless times before.
Jim re-entered the living room with Katie's lunch, only to find absolutely no trace of her. He frowned, feeling his internal panic rising; he could've sworn she was here a few minutes ago. He suddenly heard running water coming from the bathroom and almost sagged against the couch in sheer relief.
He approached the bathroom door, carefully listening to the sounds of his daughter.
"Katie?" he asked, softly rapping on the door.
"Yeah?" she replied distractedly.
He pushed the door open slightly and stuck his head around the door, welcomed with the vision of his two year old daughter putting all her concentration into drying her hands on the royal blue towel.
"Did you—" he began his inquiry.
"Yeah, I did!" exclaimed Katie excitedly, clapping her hands enthusiastically while doing what only could be described as a "victory dance".
"Good stuff, Katiebear," he praised, kneeling down to her level and extending his larger hand for a high five from her smaller one, which she gladly returned. "Come on, lunch is ready," he told her, to which she nodded and followed him out of the bathroom.
Jim watched on in a surge of pride as Katie sat up at the table and began eating her lunch. His daughter, his incredibly bright and talented two year old daughter just used the bathroom without any form of assistance. Oh, to hell with it, he thought, she essentially taught herself what to do and how to do it by following his and Johanna's previous instructions.
He picked up the phone and dialled the familiar number, waited patiently for the line to connect and to hear the mesmerising voice of the gorgeous woman on the other end.
"Hey, Jo? Yeah, I'm good. No, nothing's wrong. Listen, I've got some good news for you..."
December 1, 2011
"Castle!" hissed Beckett, snatching the bright red bauble from Castle's extended hand, about to hang it on the tree's protruding branch. "There's already a red one next to it," scolded Kate, moving the decoration to an area of the tree that was yet to have a red one hanging on it.
Of course, Castle was already well aware of this. His trained writer turned assistant-detective, as he liked to call himself, had a sharp eye and good attention to detail. No, Castle just liked to stir Kate up every so often; he found the flash of her eyes and the furrow of her brow strangely hypnotic and somewhat arousing.
"There is a plan, you know," reminded Kate, holding up her expertly decided plan, a set of steps on how to decorate the tree this year, ensuring an even coverage of lights, tinsel, baubles, handmade decorations and the other miscellaneous items which would grace the tree.
"You can be so compulsively organised at times," teased Castle, picking up an unused piece of gold tinsel from the floor and lightly tossing it at Kate.
"And you can be so irritatingly infuriating at times," countered Kate, catching the tinsel one handed, wadding it up and throwing it back at Castle, hitting him squarely in the face.
"Irritatingly infuriatingly sexy, you mean?" asked Castle, his voice dropping a few octaves, a tone which he usually saved for activities somewhat more intimate than tree decorating. He began making his way toward her, the decorations in his hands hitting the floor with a soft "thump", his eyes hungry and his face expressing only one thing that Kate could decipher: want.
Kate's breath hitched, a soft gasp escaped as Castle reached her, one hand on the curve of her hip, sliding to her lower back, pulling her closer, while the other one made its way into her long, bouncy, chocolate coloured locks. Their eyes met and Kate had to remind herself to breathe. They'd done this a hundred times before, but each time always managed to feel like the first. Their eyes shut simultaneously, their breaths mingled and their lips brushed in a whisper of a kiss; a promise for more.
"Richard, dear, have you seen my scarf? You know, the white silky one I picked up from Sach's last we—Oh my, I'll come back later," came the voice of Martha from the stairs, leaving as quickly as she , turning on her heel after realising she had interrupted a "moment" between her son and the woman who she sincerely hoped would become her daughter-in-law in the future.
Kate startled, banging her nose into Castle's in surprise, a soft yelp of pain escaping her. She buried her face in the crook of Castle's neck in an attempt to hide her embarrassment. It didn't matter that she was a thirty two year old woman, certainly no longer a seventeen year old; getting walked in on by your boyfriend's mother didn't get easier, or less awkward, with time.
"I'll go see if I can find her scarf and then maybe we can have the loft to ourselves," murmured Castle, pulling back from Kate, soothingly rubbing his hands down her arms and kissing her forehead before heading off in search of his mother.
After Castle managed to find Martha's scarf for her, she made a dramatic exit, singing her goodbye to Kate, who was still living down the embarrassment of getting caught necking with Castle by his mother of all people, from across the loft, letting the door click shut behind her as she left for the Christmas party which she was hosting for her acting studio.
Now completely alone with each other, Castle made his way back to Kate in the living room, who, despite her height, was struggling to put the star on the highest point of the tree. Castle wrapped his arms around her waist, hoisting her up just enough so she could reach, definitely not missing the small breath she let out as a result of being caught off guard.
Settling the star on the tree, Castle loosened his grip just enough so Kate could slide down his body and stand upright on the floor. She had no shoes on, so there was a somewhat significant height difference present between the two, the top of Kate's head just reaching Castle's chin.
"It really is beautiful," quietly exclaimed Kate in awe of the huge, brightly colourful tree they'd decorated together as Castle's arms found their way back around her waist while resting his chin on her shoulder.
"I could say that about someone else," replied Castle, pausing to drop a kiss on the side of her neck.
"How much eggnog have you had, or is this the Christmas spirit doing it to you?" asked Kate, glancing sideways at the man whose head was currently perched on her shoulder.
"No eggnog, I do love Christmas... But I speak only the truth for you, my dear Katherine," he told her sincerely. "Come on, I have something for you," he said, removing his arms and then tugging on her hand, sitting on the couch and pulling her down with him so their sides were pressed together. He reached into the pocket of his dark wash jeans and pulled out a small blue velvet pouch with the Pandora logo on it, handing it to Kate. Of course, this was the second charm.
"I don't have anything for you yet," Kate informed him honestly, accepting the pouch from him.
"Doesn't matter, I have everything I need," he replied, matching her level of honesty with his.
She loosened the gold strings and turned the bag on its side, shaking the contents onto her hand. She held it in front of her, examining it closely. It was a sliver Christmas tree with smooth points and a dainty gold star on top, just like the one she'd placed on top of the tree moments earlier.
"Our first Christmas together," Kate said aloud, voicing her thoughts. She undid the clasp on the silver bracelet that now spent most of its time living on her right arm.
"Our first Christmas together," echoed Castle, reaffirming what they both already knew: this was the first of many Christmases together. He held one side of the bracelet while she slipped the charm onto the other end, moving it so it sat beside the handcuffs he'd given her a little over two weeks ago.
Kate took the other end from Castle, refastened the bracelet and returned it to its rightful place on her wrist, feeling strangely light without it on.
"Thank you, Castle, significant and thoughtful," she said, beaming at him. He felt a sudden surge of love and adoration for this incredibly beautiful, intelligent and graceful woman, seeing her face light up over what, in reality, was a piece of manipulated metal.
"I love you," he blurted out, his usually well in place mental filter failing him.
He watched as the emotions played across her face at his sudden confession; a small part of him was expecting her to be angry, or even worse, run, even after all the progress they'd made together as of late.
"I know," she told him in a small voice. "I heard you, after I was shot you tackled me to the ground and you told me twice. It was the last thing I remembered before the lights went out," she continued, her confidence growing with each word she spoke. "But I couldn't tell you I knew then in the hospital. If we'd gotten together after that tragedy in a moment of desperation, I don't think we could've lasted. I didn't want to risk what we'd spent three years building; I wanted to just let things happen, instead of forcing them to. But now, it's different. I'm right where I want to be, Castle. I'm in this for the long run," she said, finishing on a nod.
Now that there was a "them" Kate knew the success of the relationship would depend on both of them being honest, even if it meant taking a leap and baring her soul to him every so often. He needed the truth, too. After everything that had happened in the last year, that was the least she could give him.
He was speechless, stunned by her confession. His inner writer was fuming at him for having no words at this particular moment. He needed to do something, if he couldn't say anything, to show his understanding, his acceptance and most importantly, his love. Doing the first and only thing that came to mind, he pushed up from the arm of the couch, branded his lips to hers while gently skimming her cheeks with the pads of his fingers, in no hurry at all. Breaking apart, he watched as yet another dazzling smile made its way across her face. He knew she was it for him, that this was the beginning of their forever, no matter how the cynics would argue that nothing was forever, this was his and he'd fight to the death before anybody would take it away from him.
He lay down on the three seater leather sofa, stretching his body across the length of it, pulling her down beside him. She found a comfortable position, her head resting just below his shoulder while her left arm was splayed across his chest.
"My favourite Christmas as a kid was the year I'd turned eight. There was an incredible amount of snow, blocking a lot of the roads from traffic, so we were more or less snowed in. Mother had just returned from a twelve week stage show in New Orleans..." he began to tell her, the baritone of his voice rumbling throughout his chest, soothing and lulling her into a state of weightlessness as he progressed through his tale.
Somewhere inside of him, he knew that this would be the best Christmas yet.