SEVEN

Kate bit down hard on her thumbnail when her cell phone rang and displayed Rick's number again that morning. His first call had been just after nine-thirty, the second a half hour later, and this, the third, fifteen minutes after the second. She groaned and set down the phone as it continued to chirp with her ringtone. God, why was he making things so difficult?

Normally when she did this with men they called once, left a message, which she did not return, and that was that; they went their separate ways. It was easier that way—for her to just fade away as opposed to having an awkward conversation that involved phrases like, "I'm just really busy with work" or, "I'm focusing on my career right now."

Kate knew this was not the best way to go about her life: it was cowardly and, in some cases, outright mean. Normally, meanness and cowardice were not two terms she would have used to describe herself—particularly not in her work life. But when it came to matters of the heart? It was simply her way to cut things off at the knees before they got too serious—before she could get hurt.

Ironically, she only did this with men she actually had feelings for. If she had gone to the gallery with Rick and he was rude, unkind, or simply unpleasant to be around, she would have ended their evening by telling him things weren't going to work out, or that he wasn't the kind of person she was looking for. Of course, Rick had not been rude or unkind; he had been the exact opposite.

On paper, Rick had done everything right; he had been the perfect date. Had she let herself relax and enjoy his company, she would have had a great evening, but like usual she was stuck in her head thinking about the man she knew as Santa for two weeks and how he intertwined with the author who had meant so much to her. Had he been another man she might not have felt bad about dating him for a few weeks—maybe even a few months—and then ending things, but somehow she was already feeling guilty. Deep down she knew the reason why, but she refused to even think the notion since that would make it true.

As the ringing persisted, Kate groaned to herself and snatched the phone up from the counter; maybe if she just spoke to him he would stop and she could go back to a Santa-free life. "Hello?"

"H-hi—hey—Kate! Um, hello?" He stammered and stumbled as though he had been just about to give up on the call when she answered. Kate rounded her shoulders and immediately wished she'd waited out the ringing a few seconds longer.

"Hi Rick."

"I, um, I called to see if you were feeling all right; I was concerned."

Of course he was, because that's completely sweet and perfect of him… "I'm fine; thanks."

"Great! Glad to hear it! I, um, I also called to see if maybe you wanted to come over this afternoon. We're making Christmas cookies."

As she assumed "we" to mean he and his daughter, Kate had no interest in accepting; she did not need to intrude on what could only be presumed to be a family tradition. "No, thank you."

"R-really?" He stumbled again, sounding caught off guard. "Free cookies don't entice you at all?"

She shut her eyes and shook her head. He couldn't just accept the negative response? God, why did she bother answering the phone? "It's not that. It, um, that sounds like a family holiday thing and I don't really do Christmas so-"

"What does that mean? Everyone does Christmas."

She gave the phone an annoyed look. "Wha—no. Not everybody does Christmas. Entire countries do not do Christmas."

"Yeah, but that's religious stuff—that's not your reasoning."

"How do you know?"

"I just do. C'mon. You can make some non-denominational stars or snowflakes—those aren't Christmas items."

She shook her head even though he could not see her. "Really, Rick, I can't, but I appreciate the invitation."

"Oh. Okay." His tone sounded sad and it made her feel irrationally guilty. "Have a nice Sunday, Kate"

"Yeah…you too."

She set down the phone on the counter with a sigh. She did not need to feel bad about not wanting to bake Christmas cookies with Rick and his daughter; she did not! They barely knew each other and baking cookies was…okay, not the most intimate of tasks, but it was a holiday event and given that she had more than enough of Christmas already that year, she felt more comfortable steering clear.

With one last tentative look at her phone, Kate shook her head and pushed herself away from the kitchen counter and moved into the bedroom where a pile of laundry was waiting for her.

"Excuse me, are you Officer Beckett?"

Kate glanced up from her computer to see a bike messenger standing beside her desk. As she had never received a delivery from a bike messenger before she responded with, "Um, yes?"

The boy she guessed to be no older than nineteen or twenty nodded, pulled a brown paper wrapped box from his bag, and set it on her desk. Then, he held out his clipboard. "Sign please."

She did so and then the messenger left without another word. Curious, Kate turned her eyes towards the box he had left and examined it curiously. The package was rectangular, perhaps two-thirds the size of a shoebox, and as far as she could tell had no external markings that would indicate its origin. She picked it up and felt the contents shift and bump inside the container, which both confused and concerned her.

Not wanting to live in suspense any longer, she clawed open the taped end of the wrapping and found a clear plastic Tupperware container filled with homemade cookies. Not just any homemade cookies, though: holiday cookies. There was a note taped to the top of the container, but Kate did not need to read it to know where her delivery originated. She picked up the container to hold at eye level and found three varieties of cookies inside: chocolate chip, some type of oatmeal cookie, and cut-out sugar cookies in various shapes. She took note, however, that most of the shapes appeared to be snowflakes and stars; there wasn't a Christmas tree in sight.

Grumbling slightly, she popped open the top of the container, pulled out a decorated star and munched down on it as she plucked the note from its tapped position.

Kate, Thank you for making this city a safer place; we appreciate all that you do. Rick & Alexis.

As she popped the rest of the delicious sugar cookie into her mouth, Kate dropped the note and folded her arms over her chest in a pout. Of course. Of course he would do this—of course he would try to nudge her into calling him and thanking him. Because she had to call and thank him, didn't she? She could not call him and not thank him…which would probably make her a jerk, but if she never intended to see him again, did that really matter?

Except that he was her favorite author and he would think she was a jerk.

Damn it.

As she reached for her phone, she thought of the one bright side: at least she was able to call Rick and was not forced to thank him in person; that would have been a more difficult conversation to get through. Of course, she was not entirely glad for this due to the situation. She was scheduled to be at the Central Park Santa Village that day, just like the week before, but on her way into the park she'd witnessed a shop owner viciously attacking a homeless man sleeping outside his business. She'd arrested the man and taken him back to her precinct for processing, and as a result dispatch had sent another officer to cover Santa-land that day.

"Kate. Hello." The writer answered his phone with an obviously pleased tone.

"H-Hi. I just wanted to, um, thank you for the cookies; that was very kind."

"Of course – you're very welcome. And I'm glad you called because I was wondering if you're interested in dinner this evening."

She shut her eyes and placed her hand against her forehead. Why hadn't she seen that coming? "Ah…I don't know."

"Kate, if you're not interested in me, you can just say. I won't be offended. And I certainly don't want you to think I'm bothering you."

"Wha—ah—no, no you're not bothering me I just…" She hesitated to think of an excuse that wasn't, "it's not you; it's me." "You know, this is Christmas week and-"

"You're not into Christmas, I know. Well, dinner won't have any Christmas foods if that's what you're worried about."

"No, it's not that. It's just…is this a date?" she asked, wanting to know clearly where they stood.

"Not exactly. My daughter will be here."

"Where?"

"Sorry I should have been clearer: I want you to come to my apartment and I'll make you dinner."

"Oh." Rick making her dinner at his apartment sure sounded like a date, but if his daughter was going to be there it wouldn't classify. God, she was a mess when it came to things like this. It would have been so much easier if she just said no, she wasn't interested in him, and ended things before they began. That would have been a lie, though; she was interested. Rick intrigued her and something—a force inside her beyond her control—compelled her to agree to the meal. "Sure. Okay. Thank you."

"No problem at all. The address is 595 Broome Street and we're in the penthouses apartment. Dinner will be ready at six—if that's okay?"

"Sure; I'll see you then."

They said their goodbyes and the moment Kate hung up her phone she collapsed forward against her desk and moaned. What was happening to her? Was she about to date Richard Castle? That was, quite possibly, the most unexpected thing she could have imagined short of someone from a European royal family asking her out. But Richard Castle? A man with a child? Was that a good idea?

She honestly was not sure, but decided she would use that evening's meal to find out.

Setting his cell phone down on his desk, Rick smiled to himself, leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. Kate Beckett was coming to dinner and that was a very, very good thing.

Though he'd been suspicious of her sudden departure from the art gallery, he wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt and take her word at face value—perhaps she had simply fallen ill and wanted to go home; there was no shame in that. For that reason, he called her the following morning to invite her to what he felt was a totally casual, no pressure situation—and that had failed miserably, but of course he had not been deterred. Ever the optimist, it took a lot to deter Richard Castle.

Despite the fact that their Sunday phone conversation did not end as he would have liked, he gained valuable knowledge from it: Kate didn't "do" Christmas. He was not entirely sure what that meant but felt it safe to say she was not in an overly enthusiastic yuletide mood. This knowledge actually helped explain their situation a bit more clearly.

From everything he'd observed, he believed Kate did like him. The way she laughed and smiled made his heart flutter joyfully. She was beautiful and interesting and he wanted to get to know her better. He thought that feeling was mutual, and as such turning down his invitation the way she had confused him. However, if Kate did not like Christmas he felt it safe to assume she was in a peculiar mood for the duration of the season, of which they were fully entrenched.

If Kate did like him, but struggled to like anything around Christmastime, Rick simply needed to wait the holiday out, which was perfectly fine as it was only a few days away. If he could just keep in casual contact with her then maybe come the New Year they could be something. He had absolutely no problem waiting, but just wanted to make sure he had something to wait for, which was why he intended to make that evening's meal as fun and as enticing as possible.