Author's Note: Now continuing with Castle and Beckett's first Christmas Day together. I only hope this chapter is worth the wait.
Then Came Love
Chapter 49
Out of habit, Kate awoke early and it took her a moment to remember that it was Christmas.
Oh, right. The thought brought its usual host of memories, remembering her younger self waking up at the crack of dawn on Christmas morning and running to wake her parents up, too excited to wait. Remembered later years when her teenage self had relished the chance to sleep in and stumbled out of bed mid-morning to her mom's teasing morning greeting.
But the melancholy at the memory of her mom was nudged aside as she turned her head to see Castle, sleeping soundly beside her. She felt a glow of warmth suffuse her chest as she studied him, looking much younger with his expression smoothed out in sleep, not that he looked his age at normal times either. He really was cute when he was sleeping, an impression that was somehow not at all lessened by the stubble darkening his cheeks and chin.
She slid carefully out of bed and padded quietly into the bathroom to perform her usual morning ablutions before returning to his room, checking to see he hadn't stirred, before shrugging into one of his flannel shirts and a pair of her own loose sweats. The shirt was cozy and warm and more than large enough to accommodate her belly without worrying about stretching it and as silly as she felt at the admission, she rather liked wearing his clothes, liked being surrounded by his scent. And more than that, she liked the spark that kindled in his eyes when he saw her wearing his clothes.
As she'd expected at that hour, the loft was quiet and still when she left Castle's bedroom. Quiet in a way she almost never saw it during the day, for obvious reasons, but she found she liked the peace of it, enjoyed the sense of an interlude before the bustle of the day began, all the more considering that today was still likely to be difficult for her.
But for now, she didn't dwell on the holiday or the emotions but headed to the kitchen and busied herself making coffee on Castle's almost futuristically-advanced coffee maker. It was a holiday and she decided she could treat Castle by making him coffee for once since it had usually been him to provide her coffee. She took out a large mug for him and then, after a brief hesitation, a small mug for herself. It had been long enough since her last bout of nausea that she thought she might try seeing if she could actually have a little bit of coffee since she did miss the taste of it. (And as much as she'd enjoyed Castle's tiramisu the evening before, it wasn't the same as the real thing.)
She was absurdly delighted to find that the smell of the coffee as it percolated didn't bring on a bout of nausea and reassured, she went on to make Castle his coffee as he liked it (wondering idly as she did so just when she had become so familiar with his coffee preferences, just as he had learned hers so early on) and making herself a small cup, a little weaker than she would normally drink it, just in case.
That done, she quietly returned to their bedroom, mugs in hand, her eyes momentarily noting the sprig of mistletoe which Castle had hung above the bedroom door, a small smile curving her lips of its own volition at the memory of how they'd taken advantage of the mistletoe–or used it as an excuse, really–yesterday night.
Castle was still sleeping soundly as she slipped into the bedroom and she left both mugs on the nightstand on her side of the bed. She figured the smell of the coffee would wake Castle up before long but there was no need to hasten the process by placing the mugs on the nightstand on his side of the bed.
She carefully slid back into bed, lying on her side with her head resting on her arm, as she watched Castle, waiting for him to wake up. As she'd expected, it was only a few minutes before his nose wrinkled a little and then he twitched, small telltale movements that she knew presaged his beginning to wake up, and then after another minute, his eyes blinked open as he turned his head to find her, a hazy little smile curving his lips.
"Mm, hi," he rumbled, his voice rough and husky with disuse–sexy, she thought with a little shiver of reaction streaking through her.
He shifted towards her, one arm curving over her as he nuzzled a kiss to her chin, a still-groggy Castle being even more of a snuggler than he normally was, which was saying quite a bit, since Castle always liked to touch things, her.
He slipped an exploratory, caressing hand around her shoulder only to encounter the flannel of his shirt rather than the bare skin he'd expected and he paused. "You got dressed," he noted and she'd never before realized that you could hear a pout in someone's voice.
"I made you coffee," she offered in indirect explanation.
He drew back slightly. "So that's why I can smell coffee." He blinked and then tugged her in to drop a half-teasing kiss on her nose. "You made me coffee. I knew I liked you for a reason."
She lifted a hand to ruffle her fingers through the soft hair above his ears in one of those little caresses she'd learned he liked. "I wanted to give you part of your gift now before the rush."
His eyes lit. "Is it a sexy gift?"
She bit back a laugh. "Not this time, no."
"Oh," he almost visibly drooped before brightening in one of those lightning-quick changes of demeanor she was becoming accustomed to with him. "So, where's my present?"
She sat up and he did likewise, while she first passed him his coffee before opening up the drawer of her nightstand where she'd hidden his gift.
She held out the flat box, left unwrapped, and he put down his coffee mug hastily before accepting it, taking off the lid and then blinking at the copy of A Season for Slaughter inside.
"My gift is a copy of my own book?" He sounded understandably confused.
"No, well, yes, sort of." His lips quirked upwards slightly at her less-than-smooth response. She bit the inside of her lip, trying to tamp down the little flicker of nerves setting flight in her chest. She'd never told anyone this story, although Will had known bits and pieces of it. "Open it."
He did and then sucked in a sharp breath as he saw his own handwriting. To Johanna. "Justice is truth in action." Richard Castle.
"Kate," he breathed, his voice sounding almost strangled with emotion as he lifted a gentle finger to touch her mom's name. "I–I met your mom?"
Oh, he sounded so… moved and so… hopeful that her heart clenched. "No, you didn't," she told him gently. "My dad gave this to my mom for her birthday a couple years before…"
He looked up at her. "I met your dad before?"
"No," she answered again. "My dad intended to go to the signing but he was too busy with work that day so he sent his assistant to get the book signed instead."
"Your dad gave your mom a book I signed for her birthday gift?" he asked slowly, uncertainly.
"Yeah, he did. My mom… was so thrilled." She managed a small smile at the memory of how her mom had thrown her arms around her dad and given him a smacking kiss in thanks, making Kate's teenage self turn away with a groan of disgust. "Not just because of your autograph but because of the message. It just… meant a lot to her, seemed so appropriate, so personal, as if you knew her."
He winced a little. "I wish I had. I just… pick a couple phrases, themes, from the book as the tag-line before signing. It's not personal."
She reached out and briefly squeezed his arm. "I know. My mom knew that too but it didn't make it mean any less. She still loved it."
"I'm glad."
She paused and then went on, her eyes lowering to focus on his autograph. "You know I read your books but I never told you why I started to read them. It was because of my mom. She read your books and liked them. She was a big fan." She glanced up at him, managing a faint smile.
He didn't smile, looked a little stunned and more than a little awed, humbled. "I… didn't know," he finally said a little lamely. "You started to read my books because your mom did?"
It wasn't quite that simple. She hesitated, again, tempted to leave the revelation at that–but she'd promised to try to be more open and this, after all, was his real gift. "Yes, but not exactly." Her lips twisted a little. "I was a bratty teenager, too busy with classics like Dickens and Tolstoy to read modern popular fiction. I used to tease my mom about it," she admitted with the pang of guilt she still felt at the memory of it, even knowing that the teasing had been meant in fun and taken as such by her mom. She sobered. "My mom was reading Storm Warning when she…" She broke off, as always unable to say the word, died. "I… found it, with her bookmark still inside, and so I… finished the book for her." She'd known it was irrational but she had even gone to her mom's grave and told her mom the rest of the story, somehow stupidly upset over the idea of her mom never knowing how the mystery had ended.
He sucked in a breath and it was his turn to reach out and squeeze her hand. "Oh, Kate…"
She met his eyes, managing a faint, watery smile even through the tears that had welled up in her eyes. "That was the start of it. I went back and read all your books after that."
"Kate…"
She blinked rapidly, flicking away the tears that threatened to fall. "And I liked them, not just for my mom's sake. Your books… showed me a world where the victims always mattered, weren't just written off as a statistic, and the killers are caught, sometimes even after years, and justice is done. And I… needed that at the time, needed to believe in that. Your books helped–"
Her faltering words were cut off by his lips as he abruptly kissed her, with so much passion her lips felt seared and her breathing was uneven when the kiss broke off, pausing before giving her another kiss, soft and tender this time, before drawing back. "Thank you, Kate." The words were simple, commonplace, but the look in his eyes, his tone, rendered them eloquent.
She managed a somewhat wobbly little smile. "I thought it was about time I told you."
"Thank you," he said again, for once in his life apparently at a loss for any more words.
She shrugged a little, trying for another smile. "It's not the fanciest gift in the world," she demurred. (Not that she could have afforded a very fancy gift anyway but that was partly why she had settled on something like this, something only she could give him.) "But that's my real gift, not the book itself so much as telling you why I read your books, what your books meant to me."
"Kate, that's… I don't know what to say…" He paused, swallowed, looked down at the book again before looking back up at her. "I can only imagine how much this book means to you so I can't keep it. You can keep it. It's okay–what you told me, that's enough, more than enough, for me. Just to know. I don't need to keep the book as a reminder or anything."
He tried to hand the box back but she put a hand on his wrist, forestalling him. "No, you can keep it. Really. Besides, I don't think of it as losing it completely. It'll be safe here and I was kind of assuming that I'll be spending enough time here that if I want to look at it again, I can. Unless you have some issue with that?" she added with a teasing note entering her tone.
(For that matter, if the last week or two were any indication, she would be spending more time here than she did in her own apartment.)
That succeeded in making him smile. "No issues with that at all. Feel free to spend as much time here as you want."
"Good. I would hate to have to un-invite myself," she managed a smirk that faded as she remembered there was one more thing. "And I do have one more thing to give you but this isn't really a gift."
She reached back into the nightstand to pull out another much smaller box, not gift-wrapped this time, and handed it to him.
He made a small noise of surprise in the back of his throat when he saw what was inside: a key and a keychain she'd found that read "Writer," which she had, of course, needed to buy for him. "Is this–?"
"The spare key to my apartment," she confirmed. "You gave me yours so… it seemed only fair," she tried with limited success to sound nonchalant.
He looked up at her. "I think I like the keychain best," he joked and for probably the first time since she'd known him, his attempt at a humorous tone fell flat, betrayed almost more emotion, ironically, than even a sober thanks would have.
"I was looking for one that read 'Troublemaker,' but couldn't find it so I settled on that one instead," she gave him a small smirk.
And felt a ridiculous little thrill go through her as that sally provoked an outright laugh. She wondered if she'd ever stop feeling so… pleased to make him laugh but it certainly hadn't happened yet.
She lifted a hand to his hair and leaned in to kiss him. "Merry Christmas, Castle," she whispered against his lips.
"Merry Christmas, Beckett."
And then there were no more words for at least a little while.
Some time later, after a shower in which Castle had thoroughly shown his gratitude for his gifts, and after Alexis and then Martha had come downstairs, Jim arrived and Kate would not have admitted to anyone that she felt a small tug of relief as she hugged her dad in greeting, noting that his eyes were clear and bright. He really did look okay, even happy to be celebrating Christmas once again. "Good morning, Dad."
"Good morning, Katie, and Merry Christmas." He studied her face in turn. "You look as if you've already had a good Christmas morning."
She bit the inside of her lip and fought back a blush. That was not what her dad was referring to–at least, she certainly hoped it wasn't. "I treated myself to a small cup of coffee."
"Ah, well, that explains it. I know you've missed your coffee," her dad agreed innocently–and she decided to believe, for her own sanity's sake, that he meant it just as innocently.
"Merry Christmas, Mr. Beckett!" Alexis called from behind them.
Kate and her dad directed their smiles at Alexis.
"Merry Christmas to you too, Alexis, Rick, Martha. Thank you again for inviting me."
Castle had come over to shake her dad's hand and opened his lips to respond but Martha beat him to it.
"Nonsense, Jim, of course we'd invite you for Christmas. Where else would you spend the holiday than here?" Martha asked as if Kate and her dad had been joining them for Christmas for years.
"Now that we're all here, can we open the presents, Dad?" Alexis asked Castle.
Kate and Jim laughed. Apparently, at least at Christmas, Alexis had inherited some of Castle's impatience.
Castle dropped a quick wink at Kate. "Oh, I don't know. Jim, do you want some coffee or maybe we should have breakfast first? Have you eaten?"
"Dad!" Alexis protested.
Jim laughed. "I'm fine, Rick, thanks, I already had my coffee before coming here so I think we can open the presents now."
Unsurprisingly after this, Alexis was the first to plop herself down on the floor by the Christmas tree and the pile of gifts underneath it while the rest of them followed more sedately with Martha again taking the armchair while Kate and her dad settled on the couch. But this time, Castle did not sit down, instead remaining standing as he had apparently appointed himself to distribute all the gifts to their respective recipients.
"Alexis and I switch off every year as to who hands out the gifts and it's my turn this year," he explained in an aside to Kate and Jim, before bending to pick up the first gift, a small, flat gift-wrapped box which he handed to Jim, announcing, "First up, for you, Jim, from my mother."
Kate caught her dad's look of surprise, echoing the surprise she too rather felt. She hadn't thought, expected, that Martha would buy her dad a gift.
"Oh, Martha, thank you, I wasn't expecting you to get me anything."
Martha waved a hand in one of her characteristic dismissive gestures. "You're welcome and of course I had to get you a gift. You're part of the family now."
Oh. Kate felt her throat tighten a little. Her dad coughed a little and made a show of examining the gift wrap in an attempt to hide his emotion, Kate knew, and she reached out to squeeze his arm in empathy. Part of the family–and Martha had said it so easily, so naturally, as if stating a fact as unquestionable as the law of gravity.
For so long, she and her dad had been alone, their small family unit of two and two had been for them such a sad, lonely number. But now, they weren't alone, had become part of a larger family. Would never be just the two of them again, she thought, because of the baby. Even if–oh god, she felt as if a hand squeezed her heart at the thought–even if her romantic relationship with Castle didn't last forever, they would still be family, connected to Castle and Alexis and Martha because of the baby. And looking at her dad, she saw the same realization in his eyes.
She swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat and spoke up teasingly, partly to give her dad a little time to regain control of himself, "I'm surprised, Castle, I thought you'd insist that all the gifts came from Santa Claus."
"Don't encourage him, Kate," Alexis pretended to grumble, although the look she shot Castle was affectionate. "He kept up the Santa pretense until just a couple years ago. I remember Gina used to–" she broke off with a blush, darting an apologetic look at Castle.
It was the first time Kate had ever heard Alexis mention Gina and she wondered for a moment what Gina's relationship with Alexis had been like as a stepmother.
Alexis hurriedly continued, "I can count on one hand and have fingers left over for the number of years it's been since Dad finally stopped with the whole Santa thing, hiding all the gifts until Christmas morning, setting out milk and cookies on Christmas Eve, writing 'From Santa' on all the gift tags–all of that."
Castle made a face at Alexis. "Ungrateful child."
Alexis only grinned at his mock scold. "And I'm willing to bet that from next Christmas, he'll go right back to doing all that, because of the baby."
"Good luck with that, Rick," Jim spoke up lightly. "If the baby turns out to be anything at all like Katie, you'll have a tough go of it. Katie here was all of three when she confronted us about Santa not being real."
Kate felt herself flushing, ridiculously, as Castle turned a look of overblown dismay on her. "We didn't have a chimney so it made no sense," she explained, more defensively than she wished.
"It's called magic, Beckett. Santa doesn't need to use the chimney to enter people's houses; he just does when chimneys are available because it's easier," he explained with as much sobriety as if he were expounding on the theory of relativity.
Only Castle. Dear, ridiculous, wonderful man that he was. She felt a surge of so much fondness for him and sternly tried to keep any sign of it from her expression, not wanting to moon over him like some besotted teenager in front of her dad and Martha of all people. "Well, you can be the one to explain it like that to the baby." As she had no doubt he would, wanted him to foster his sense of wonder and joy in the baby. She might not believe in things like magic or happy endings or forever but she didn't want the baby to be dragged too soon into the harsh realities of life that she lived with. And yes, that included encouraging a belief in Santa for at least as long as they could manage–especially because she had no doubt the baby would grow up all too fast and would, unfortunately, have to deal with reality all too soon.
Castle's face lit with so much joy it made her chest almost ache and then he punched the air in triumph. "Yes! Santa will be back!"
Kate bit back a laugh even as she felt her throat tightening with absurd emotion (while Alexis did laugh, even as she pretended to sigh). He was… such a bringer of light, of joy, and when she was with him, he made her want to believe in forever, made her want to hope.
Castle lowered his arm to point a finger at his grinning daughter. "And you, stop mocking me."
"Or what, Santa will put me on the Naughty list?" Alexis quipped.
"Yes, exactly," Castle nodded with exaggerated gravity.
Kate pushed aside her emotion as she snickered, almost in spite of herself. "Knowing Alexis, I doubt she's ever done anything that naughty in her entire life."
Alexis laughed, even as she wrinkled her nose a little. "Thanks but not even I would claim that. I'm hardly perfect."
As always, Castle's smile softened as he looked at Alexis. "Maybe not, but you come pretty darn close, most of the time. Except when you're making fun of me," he amended.
"Dad, I think you're neglecting your duties as the gift distributor," she hurriedly interjected.
"Right, of course." Thus adjured, Castle returned to his gift distribution, characteristically not simply distributing gifts in one stack before moving onto another cluster but roaming around among the gifts to pass them out to their respective recipients.
Kate felt her throat tighten with emotion as it turned out that not only had Martha gotten her dad a gift but Alexis had too (as had Castle) and her own self, of course. And then she really felt tears pricking at the back of her eyes because in addition to getting gifts for her (which would have been more than enough), both Martha and Alexis had gone a step beyond and also bought gifts for the baby.
Martha and Alexis, in addition to the gifts from their family, also received gifts from various friends so they received the most gifts, number-wise. What surprised Kate a little was to see that Castle, he who had so many friends and always claimed to "know a guy," didn't receive more gifts from outside the family–or for that matter, any gifts at all aside from one from Black Pawn, which Kate guessed was some sort of generic gift that Black Pawn sent to all of its authors.
When all the gifts had been distributed, the unwrapping began along with the usual flurry of exclamations and thanks and comments and–because this was the Castle family–a good deal of laughter.
From Martha, her dad received two tickets to a new Broadway play set to open in late January and which was already the subject of a lot of award speculation. He got a very nice woolen scarf from Alexis along with a novelty mug that read "Trust me, I'm a lawyer," that provoked a laugh from her dad even as he thanked Alexis with such obvious sincerity it made the girl flush with pleasure, and most surprisingly, from Castle, Joe Torre's book about his years with the Yankees which had been not just autographed by Joe Torre himself but included a personal inscription addressed to her dad by name, wishing him a Merry Christmas and all the best in the New Year and a note that if her dad ever wanted to attend a game at Yankee Stadium, he should tell Rick and it would be arranged.
Castle shrugged a little as he demurred her dad's somewhat awed thanks. "Oh, Joe and I are old friends. Did I never mention that?"
Kate almost choked on air. Castle was old friends with Joe Torre?! "No, you never mentioned that. How did you–why didn't you tell me?"
"I guess it just never came up," he responded with too much nonchalance, although a smirk was tugging on the corners of his lips.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Shut up, Castle."
"I didn't say anything."
"You have a bad poker face."
That made him gasp in feigned outrage. "I do not! I have a great poker face! Even the Captain would tell you that."
It was her turn to smirk while her dad interposed, "This is amazing, Rick. How did you get to know Joe Torre so well?"
"Oh, the Mayor threw a couple fancy parties after the Yankees won the World Series and invited me and my mother and it turned out that apparently his wife is a fan of mine so he asked me to sign a couple books for her and we got to know each other that way."
This time, Castle's answer was straightforward and Kate tried not to blink or otherwise show her sudden flicker of nerves. She forgot sometimes that Castle really was a celebrity in his own right, enough of one that he would be invited to parties thrown by the Mayor (and not even the current Mayor but his predecessor who was, presumably, not on first-name, poker-playing-buddy terms with Castle) along with other members of the City's A-list, the rich and famous. She could only imagine that those parties thrown by the Mayor would have been very glitzy, ostentatious, and not the sort of place any normal member of the public would ever find themselves except as the event staff. The sort of event to which cops would fight to be assigned as part of the security detail, although such events usually used private security anyway and didn't even deign to ask the NYPD for assistance except with things like traffic.
But before Kate could even start to marvel at this reminder of the reality of Castle's life, she was distracted as Alexis urged, "You still need to open the gifts for the baby, Kate."
She pushed aside the thought of Castle's celebrity status and smiled at Alexis. "I just thought I'd save them for last," she said, truthfully enough. She was a little afraid of how emotionally she was likely to react to the gifts. She glanced at Castle and he caught the look, moved to perch on the arm of the couch beside her as she set aside the box containing the rest of Castle's Christmas gift for her, earrings and a necklace to match the bracelet he had given her yesterday.
Martha's gift for the baby proved to be a set of three onesies in bright colors, one bearing an image of the theater masks for comedy and tragedy, another with the music symbols of the treble and bass and musical notes, and the third a Shakespeare quote from "Much Ado About Nothing," "Then there was a star danced, and under that was I born."
"Thank you, Mother. These are perfect," Castle addressed Martha with a softer tone than he usually used with her.
Martha waved a dismissive hand. "I figure it's never too early to start spoiling my new grandchild."
Kate blinked back the tears pricking at the back of her eyes. "Thank you, Martha. This is so sweet of you," she managed a somewhat wobbly smile. It was less about the onesies themselves, as adorable and appropriate as they were, than it was the love they represented. There was so much love in this family, a love that already included the baby, months before she would even be born. The baby might not ever be able to know one of her grandmothers but oh, the baby would certainly never feel any lack of love.
Her dad reached out and squeezed her arm as if guessing her thoughts while Castle slipped his arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him as she opened Alexis's gift, which proved to be a very soft, very cute plush puppy. "Oh, Alexis…" was all she managed to say and she honestly had no idea why or what it was about the gift of a stuffed animal that got to her but it did and she could only hold the little doll against her as she dissolved into messy, embarrassing tears, turning her face into Castle's shirt as he tightened his arm around her.
She was vaguely aware of Castle thanking Alexis and of her dad touching her shoulder as she cried like, well, like a baby. The only good thing was that the tears didn't last for long and it was probably only a few minutes before she was able to sniff and lift her face to find that Martha, bless her, had fetched a box of tissues and handed them to Castle and Kate was able to mop up the last lingering tears and dry her cheeks.
Poor Alexis was wide-eyed with something like dismay. "I didn't mean to upset you, Kate. I saw it and thought it was so cute and I thought the baby would want a stuffed animal to play with, like my Monkey-Bunkey."
Kate rallied, managed a smile. "You didn't upset me, Alexis. It's just so sweet of you, and I was thinking that the baby is going to be so very lucky to have you as a big sister."
The girl's smile was just a little uncertain. "I think I'm going to like being the baby's big sister."
Martha moved to hug Alexis. "You are going to be a wonderful big sister, darling."
"Yes, I think so too," Jim chimed in, smiling at Alexis, even as he reached out and grasped Kate's hand.
Kate sniffed a little, her eyes moving from Martha and Alexis to her dad's smiling face that betrayed some of the emotion she felt too, and then glanced up to meet Castle's eyes. He bent and kissed her hair and she tucked herself more snugly against him.
Oh, this family, this wonderful, loving family–their family.
~To be continued…~
A/N 2: I spent some time trying to come up with the various gifts and hope you all approve of them as well. Thank you, as always, to all readers and reviewers.
