Spirit of the Season

Disclaimer: Don't claim to own Castle. The writing geniuses over there are much more evil.

AN: What happens when two writers decide to tell the same story from different points of view? The working title for this was "The Project of Awesome!" We hope you agree. For Castle's perspective follow: CuffedBunnies!

AN2: Apologies for the lateness. Today should happen by end of the day, as planned.

For CB, next year will be better

DAY TWENTY ONE - Greetings

December 20, 2012

Yesterday had stayed with Kate all morning, even as Castle couldn't shut up about tomorrow. "No," she said as indulgently as she could for a third attempt. "I'm not comcerned about the end of the world."

"I don't see why you can't at least acknowledge the possibility. There has been some pretty far reaching research into the Mayan -"

"Because, I am more concerned with my own calendar then the Mayan calendar. And according to that, there is very little chance that the world will actually end until at least January 1, 2038."

That stopped Castle and his tracks. "Why 2038?

She held up her iPhone. "That's how far the scroll window goes on date settings before new years get dimmed out. They're there, but dimmed out. Of course, this same method also indicates that the world began on December 31, 1969, so I don't know what that says about you or anything."

He barked out a short laugh "Interesting methodology there," he commented.

She shrugged at him, but smiled a little. "About as solid as any other, when we're talking about the end of the world."

He nodded in response, but still didn't look completely convinced. She knew that most the time he was messing with her when he talked about things like zombies, curses, vampires etc. Still, she was pretty sure that there was something just a little genuinely unsettled in his expression.

"Tomorrow is not the end of the world, Castle. Really, it's not. What is going to be the end of the world, though, is if I can't find a lead in this case. I need to go dig around in the records room a little. The boys have their hands full as it is. You coming down to the dustbowl with me?"

He nodded and stood. "I am where you are today," he said.

A week ago, hell, even a day ago that might've unsettled her. But she's still in the strange shadowy world of yesterday. Still learning to live with the revelation that she wasn't necessarily just starting somewhere, that she was in this more deeply than she knew, all along.

She kept thinking, kept trying to work it out all morning. How she could possibly explain to him what she had realized last night? She should tell him, she knew that. Just say it straight out. But it wasn't what she did best. That was his territory. Honestly, it wasn't something she did well at all. But then, she's not quite certain it was something she'd ever been in a position to do before.

Alright, that was a lie. She knew she'd never been in this position before. No relationship had ever been like this before. But how to tell him? How to get it right?

And then, in one moment in the records room she knew. Because as soon as she entered the familiar space, she felt the tug in the direction of the area where her mother's file was kept. Felt that familiar need to just walk over and look one more time. Just check again, in case there was anything she had been missing that might link Bracken in a way that she could use.

But when she came back to herself, when her eyes refocused, she noticed that Castle had stepped forward just a little and turned. He'd placed himself between her and the potential danger of that file. He hadn't said a word, hadn't had to ask. He knew. And he stepped in to the danger zone between her and her own obsession. Again.

And that was it. That was when she knew exactly how to tell him, and thank him. For all of it.

By lunchtime, they had a few decent leads but nothing they wouldn't be waiting on for a while at least. And so, when Castle excused himself to the restroom, she pulle note card from her desk, scrawled the needed message on it, and set her plan in motion.

"Ready to head for lunch?" Castle asked as he returned.

"Sure," she said casually. "As long as you don't mind a little side trip."

"I'm good with anything. Why? Did something come back faster than expected?"

She shook her head. "No, it isn't case related. It's more of a personal side trip."

And then, by way of explanation she handed him the card. By now, they had gotten used to this, so he didn't even really look surprised. He studied the word for a moment and looked back up at her.

"Greetings?"

She nodded, but said nothing. He knew much better than to ask for hints by now. Besides, in the end this was his own game, after all. Of course he knew better.

And this one? She didn't want to talk about this one before she had to. She wanted to do it, knew it was exactly the right thing. Still, contemplating it - let alone the act of actually doing it - left her feeling just a little shredded inside. So she gave him absolutely no clues.

Which is probably why it absolutely shocked her when halfway to their destination point, Castle asked, his voice thick and heavy, like he knew, where exactly they were going. It made her grip to stearing wheel until her knuckles turned white. He couldn't know, could he? How could he possibly know?

But when she looked over at him, she knew. Somehow, he had figured it out. So, she cleared her throat. No point in line. "I – I thought I could... introduce you to my mother." She got the last part of the sentence out in a rush.

She nodded slowly. Yes, he had known. She could tell now. "I'd like that," he said softly.

"Good."

But then he managed to startle her again. "Kate," he said urgently, "I need you to pull over. Right here," he gestured to a nearby spot in the small side street.

She was confused, but did as he asked. "Castle, what –"

"I'll be right back," he said. He must have seen something startled in her expression because he added, "I promise, I'm only going just around the corner. It'll only take a moment, I promise."

Her mouth dropped open in surprise. Before she could protest, however, he was out of the car and closing the door. What was going on here? She still didn't know exactly how he knew where they were going. Didn't know what caused this sudden strange reaction. He seemed to like the idea of going, and yet...

It really was only a matter of moments before she saw him coming around the corner again. Whatever his sudden errand, it hadn't taken him long. It was then that she noticed he was carrying a small brown bag in his right hand.

It took just about everything she had, but she didn't ask. Kate just let him get back in the car clutching the brown bag on his lap. Castle was not a shy man. Not even a little bit. If he wanted her to know how he had known where they were going, or what was in that bag he'd have told her. He would tell her. She knew him, trusted him.

When she pulled up and parked at the small cemetery, he waited for her before he got out of the car. He was going to let her lead, let her accomplish her goal here before he had explained anything, apparently.

She made her way to the appropriate marker. She found it strange to realize that the cold and the snow actually helped. Usually, it just reminded her of the time of year in which her mother died. But today the blanket of snow obscured the lawn of the cemetery. The gray winter sky replaced the bright blue that haunted her memory of another cemetery.

Today it was very different than the last time she was here. When she came in the spring, she hadn't the strength to step any closer than she needed to keep her mother's name within her field of vision. Today she stepped up, swept her hands gently over the marker, cleared it of snow. Last time she was here she said nothing. Today she stepped back to take Castle's hand. "Hi Mom," she said softly. "This is Rick. I think you'd really like him," she murmured, voice shaking a little. Her mother would have loved him. At least as much as she did.

There was a moment's pause, and then Castle steps forward pulling something out of his little brown paper bag. It wasn't until he leaned down in front of the marker and then stepped away that Kate realized what he'd done. Flowers. He'd brought her mother flowers.

A small bouquet, really: a few white lilies and red carnations tied with a green bow. For Christmas, she realized. "Castle," she said, her voice raw with it. He'd known where they were going. He'd known exactly where to buy flowers along the route from the precinct to the cemetery.

"I figured the color would be right this week," he said. "Brighter. Before, just lilies."

"Before?" She nearly choked on it.

She only realized she was still holding his hand when he squeezed hers. "I should have asked, today," he said quietly. "But that summer, well there was no one to ask."

The summer? When she was gone. Eighteen months ago, after the shooting. "You came here over the summer?"

"I - at first I was looking for you. Thought you might come back to the city to see your Mom. It felt wrong to come without flowers, so I stopped along the way. Then, I just kept coming. I figured you couldn't and it was something I could do."

For her, he meant. When she wouldn't let him do anything more for her, he had brought flowers for her mother. It broke something in her. Caused the tears to rise up, spill over. So similar, yet so different from when last she stood here.

"Castle," she breathed out, overflowing with it. It wanted out. "Castle, I l -"

Then his finger was pressed gently to her lips. "No, Kate. Not here." Then he was swiping at her tears with the pads of his fingers.

At first she wanted to object. But then, she realized. That was why he'd stopped her. Because he already knew. He knew. And for the moment, she thought that might just be enough.