December 13 - Your world will be changed forever
Kate gets the search warrant at seven that morning and texts Castle to meet the team at their suspect's address - do not go inside - and they're ready to roll.
The man in Central Park was drowned by his mistress, dragged to the ball fields by her and her brother. So is their theory. Her day off yesterday didn't put too much of a hinder on the investigation, and Esposito and Ryan had her filled in before six. The early start has her drowning herself in coffee, but it's worth it.
She pulls up at the address with lights but no sirens, Espo and Ryan coming in right behind her, and she gets out of the car to find Castle waiting.
Hands are shoved deep in his pockets against the lick of light rain; he hunches his shoulders as she comes closer, like he wants to block the wind for her. She lets herself slip into the shadow of him, giving him a good morning lift of her mouth and leaning in for more.
Her eyes must close as she comes for a kiss because the next thing she knows, something cold and rubbery is flicking against her lips, making her startle back, and she can hear Esposito hooting with laughter.
She opens her eyes to Castle.
The neon green and orange rubber frog she placed in his Advent calendar is staring back at her, and behind it, Castle's mischievous face. He squeezes it again and the tongue unrolls like a party horn, touches her cheek.
"I kissed a princess?" His eyebrows wriggle.
"You kissed a detective, sorry. Means you're still a toad, Castle." She tilts her head and closes her hand over his, pushes it towards his pocket. "Put that away. Not in front of the kids."
Ryan moans in unappreciation and Esposito snorts, turning away from them, reaching behind him to check his weapon. He nudges Ryan and nods briskly to the apartment building. "Since Mom and Dad want to play, let's serve a search warrant."
Kate smirks and catches Castle's eye; he only grins back, the little frog put away, but there's something soft and hopeful and visionary in his eyes.
When they troop up the stairs inside the walk-up, coats open and sweat starting to form by the fifth floor landing, Castle leans in with a hand at her back.
Knowingly, she pauses in her climb, letting Ryan and Esposito get a few steps ahead of them, and then Castle's mouth is at her ear.
"All I can think about-"
She quirks an eyebrow. Is he really going there right now?
"Is just how much fun Christmas is with that little kid excitement, when they come down the stairs that morning and see-"
"No." She turns swiftly, gripping the wrist of the hand that touches her, shaking her head. "Not - not right now. I can't have a conversation like this while I'm at work. Can't even think - just not now."
He shakes his head. "It's not a conversation. Just a. . .song in my head, Kate. A story that hasn't been written."
She stares at him, but he's giving her his careful smile. Not a conversation. A story.
"Okay," she breathes out. "Let's serve our warrant, so I can go home early."
"Actually, before we go home, I have plans for you."
He finds himself reaching into his pocket to touch the little green and orange frog, the silliness of the gift making him smile whenever he does. It's the combination of today's song and the look on her face when he kissed her with the frog - it's like an automatic and instant dose of ridiculous magic.
Probably her intention; he'll concede. Totally what she's going for. It's like when she wore that terrifying Nebula-9 mask. It's like when she messed with him about boobs in his face. She's taking something a little twisted and making it seem more straight. Or the reverse, taking the things that seem too straight - too pure, too much, too close - and giving them both just enough laughter to twist each other closer.
He's noticed that's her m.o. with him. Giving him just a little bit more of herself, asking for more from him, one story at a time, one slow reveal after another.
When she finally turns to him with that quicklime grin, cementing his heart to hers and limelighting the precinct-
jeez, he's sappy today. It's the song. It's that adorable, silly song and the children's voices and the frog and the way she looks at him.
"Ready to go, Castle?"
"Yeah," he scrapes out, lifting to his feet and taking her leather jacket from her arm, opening it up. She turns and slides into the sleeves, lets him flip up her collar even though she gives him a roll of her eyes for it. He tugs her around and hangs on to her lapels, studies the fall of her hair past her collar, the shadowed valley of her neck.
"You said you have plans?" she murmurs, the slight frown coming to her forehead first, drifting down to her eyes and then settling in her mouth. "Because you know Alexis is coming over."
"She is?"
Kate bites her bottom lip. "Yeah, I was afraid this might happen. I should've-"
"No, it's okay. Just tell me how much time I have before then."
She checks her father's watch, hair falling forward to block her face, a little shrug. "Mm, couple hours."
"Perfect."
She lifts her head, cheeks a little flushed, and he gets to watch her frown lift away, mouth first as her lips part, then the color in her eyes, the smooth line of her forehead - a whole face smile, a little teasing, a little appreciative, a lot beautiful.
"Perfect?"
"Yes. Just enough time. Come on, we're Christmas shopping."
She lifts her eyebrows when he takes her to that studio jeweler they passed last month - month before, something. He pushes open the door even when she stumbles to a halt on the sidewalk.
"Castle?"
"More specifically, your Christmas present, Kate."
"What?"
Castle only tugs her by the ends of her scarf and into the studio. It's not crowded, but all the employees are busy helping customers, and she hesitates.
"Castle."
"Christmas. Missed out on getting you something for your birthday."
She bites her bottom lip, feels his hands at her hips as her eyes wander the room.
"You know you want to. You were the one who not-so-subtly hinted, Kate Beckett."
"Yeah, but. . ." That was before Tyson set you up.
His thumb brushes at her hip, up under her sweater where she can feel each whorl. "Wanted to do this before, Kate. Had some ideas and. . .But now, looks like you need to be with me so I've got an alibi."
The laughter swells up and chokes her, but he only gives her that adorable, little boy smile. Such a sharp and fragile contrast to the scene in that jail cell, such a tentative and hopeful peace they've made.
She takes in a deep breath and turns in the loose loop of his arms. He's trying - so can she.
"Okay. I'll look. But - I want it to be a surprise. So you have the final say, Castle."
In his kitchen, she can't stop smiling to herself. It makes her nervous, the not knowing but knowing some, and she has that stupid Can I have a pony? feeling in her stomach like when she was five and Santa Clause was the magic that everyone else believed in, and so-
And so maybe.
Maybe. Since they all believed it so sincerely, so adamantly, maybe it could happen.
Castle's fingers stroke the hair back from her face and she lifts her head, bites her bottom lip at that look in his eye. Her hands are messy with flour or else she'd touch him, bring him in closer.
"When's Alexis-"
The front door scrapes open and he laughs, thumb nudging her cheek as he turns around to greet his daughter.
Kate keeps measuring flour, gets everything ready.
Alexis sweeps her back and pins it again; Kate shakes her head at her.
"I know. I should just pull it up. Keep it out of the dough."
Kate laughs. "But it looks so pretty like that, I understand."
The front door opens and they both glance up, Kate able to see Alexis's mirroring anticipation from the corner of her eye as Castle comes through.
"I found it," he calls, holding the bag up triumphantly. "Fancy baking powder."
"Fancy?" Alexis wrinkles her nose. "Whatever. Bring it over. We need it."
Castle makes his way towards the kitchen, fishes out the can of baking powder and sets it between them, kissing Alexis's cheek, then turning to Kate to repeat the action. She pops flour on his nose instead and his surprise makes him stumble back.
Alexis laughs, catching him, and Kate smirks. "Peck on the cheek? Not-uh. You can do better than that."
Castle's grin widens across his face, eyes crinkling, and he leans in close, nuzzles his nose against hers, slow and seductive, dipping down to her mouth until-
"Ew, gross," she grumbles, pushing him back to wipe flour off her lips.
"You asked for it."
Kate eyes the bowl of sifted flour, but suddenly a pale hand is snatching it away.
Alexis huffs at them. "No food fights with the cookie dough."
His daughter is still at the kitchen table with the last full cookie sheet, spooning out almond filling onto the round circles of dough. Kate pushes Castle off of her, nudging him by the hip towards the dirty dishes in the sink.
"Do your part or no cookies for you."
"Hey, I was the one who went emergency grocery shopping."
"You were also the one who looked over the recipe and swore up and down that you had everything we needed," she shoots back.
He bumps her shoulder, hands already reaching for the sudsy water and the mixing bowl drowned there, but he watches her make her way towards his daughter, swiping at a bubble on her cheek. He put it there, but he thought she didn't notice.
She sits down with Alexis and takes another spoon out of the can of almond filling, says something that makes his daughter laugh, and they both turn their heads to give him shared smiles.
He drops his head and does the dishes, the last of the washing up, half-listening to Kate and Alexis finish the final batch of Christmas cookies. The water is too hot for him, so he runs a little cold, eyes lifting again towards them.
Kate's job was rolling the dough and cutting out the circles, placing them on cookie sheets for Alexis to fill and fold. He's manned the oven, taking them out before they can burn, sliding the spatula under the soft dough, putting in a new pan. He expected to be shut out of the cookie making, left on the outside of things, but that never happened. Kate pushed the cookie tray into his hands and said eight minutes.
He rinses the first mixing bowl, lays it in the drying rack, reaches for the next one. Alexis is giggling and leaning back in the chair, the spoon of almond filling dipping treacherously towards her hair. Kate snatches it away, scoffing at her, laughing back, waves the spoon in her face.
It's been awkward between them, but hopeful. And tonight he's seen Kate relax, be natural, and of course Alexis has responded to that. His daughter can be reserved and so can Kate-
"Castle."
He jerks his head up and realizes the oven timer is blaring, both women looking at him with a raised eyebrow, twin smirks.
Castle turns to the oven with still-wet hands, presses the timer off, then feels Kate at his back, checking. He twists around and flicks water in her face, making her huff and jerk away, but he smirks and elbows her aside.
"Let me do my job."
She steps back, gestures for him to continue, and he snags the oven mitts, opens the oven door.
"Last tray," Alexis calls out, coming into the kitchen with the cookies. He settles the hot one on top of the oven and takes Alexis's, pushes it onto the rack and shuts the door.
"Last tray," Kate murmurs, such a sense of pleased pride in her voice that he has to turn and look at her.
Alexis threads her arm through Kate's, lays her head on Kate's shoulder, and Castle pauses, waiting.
"Time for a story, Dad."
Kate's smile slips through, and her shoulders ease. "A story?"
"Remember?" Alexis says. "We did it like this last year. Your Christmas tradition, and now ours."
"Oh," she says softly, and he sees the surprise flicker in her eyes.
"Thought that's why you've been storytelling all day." He smiles at her and takes the spatula off the counter. "Alexis, go get the book. Soon as I put the cookies on the cooling rack, I'll start it."
Alexis withdraws from Kate's arm, comes in to kiss his cheek, then disappears back towards his office.
Kate nudges up at his side while he starts scraping off the cookies.
"You guys read A Christmas Carol, right?"
"Yeah."
"I can-"
"The next word better not be go." He lifts an eyebrow at her, scoops the last of the cookies onto the cooling rack.
"No," she murmurs. "Just gonna ask if I can sit with you."
"With-with me, or beside me?"
She laughs, knocks her head into his shoulder. "Beside you, Castle. Just beside. Not sitting in your lap. You may be about as jolly as Santa, but you're not nearly as fleshy. Thank goodness." She lifts onto her toes and presses a kiss into his mouth, her tongue playing at his lips as her fingers pinch his sides. "Though it's tempting to try to get myself on the naughty list."
"That is all kinds of wrong." He drops the spatula and slides his arms around her, fingers nudging under her sweater to the bare skin of her back, and then leans in for a deeper kiss.
"Hey, you two. I got the book. Keep it PG, will ya?"
Kate laughs into his mouth and pushes him away, pink in her cheeks but her lips still smiling as she turns towards Alexis.
"PG. Promise."
"Can't promise," Castle says heartily, earning a slap against his chest.
Alexis comes to him and pushes the Dickens Christmas book against his torso. "Come on, Dad. Christmas tradition."
He grins at her and gives Kate a jerk of his head. "Living room. Let's go."
"Old Marley was as dead as a doornail. Mind! I don't mean to say that, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a doornail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironmongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or the Country's done for. You will therefore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Marley was as dead as a doornail."
Kate snorts. "No wonder you love this story so much."
"Hush, I'm reading."
She digs her toes into the end of the couch, her back against his side, and twists her head on his shoulder to look at him. On his other side, Alexis is curled up close, her eyes getting heavy, and they haven't made much past the first page.
"All your brand of punny."
"Oh, ho, ho, ho-"
"What'd I tell you about Santa?"
"You don't believe in Santa anyway," he huffs at her. Kate laughs and tucks her chin into her chest.
"Read, Dad. Don't let Kate distract you."
He grunts and starts the book back up and Kate leans her cheek against the couch, equally as worn out as Alexis. Thursday night and they've been making cookies for four hours. Her back aches from standing over the counter and rolling the dough, and her fingers are cramped from the repetition.
But the sound of Castle's voice is numbing and warm, his body at her spine like a life-sized heating pad, and the decaf coffee cradled in her lap is doing the last of the job of sending her over the edge.
She drifts in and out of sleep, her head nestled on the couch, and catches only a few words here and there of the story he tells - children and Christmas, the blessings of spirits, and the power of living with open hands, open heart.
"He had never dreamed of any walk, that anything, could give him so much happiness."