I completely ran out of time to participate in the #12promptsofchristmas so consider this my contribution to this year's collection of holiday fics. Takes place on New Year's Eve 2012… set between Cuffed and Till Death Do Us Part

Promise of a New Year

Kate Beckett doesn't celebrate New Year's Eve. She hasn't since her first year of college, when she rang in 1999 with a raucous group of friends and no small amount of alcohol. So young and naïve and full of hope, with no way of knowing that barely more than a week later her entire world would shatter.

So for her, the day is no longer about the exciting possibilities of a new year. Rather, it marks the close of a year her mother never experienced and the start of another year she'll never get to see. Another year gone by and the case still unsolved.

Another year of letting her mother down.

Except she hasn't, she reminds herself, remembering Burke's words from a few weeks earlier. She can't let her down. It's something she's still struggling to accept, but she's working on it. Her weekly sessions with Burke are challenging and exhausting. She's still fighting to come to terms with her shooting and her scars and her PTSD. But the therapy is helping. She's not where she wants to be yet, but she's made tangible progress. She's getting closer. And tonight, she intends to share this information with Castle.

Tonight, for the first time since her mother died, the thought of a new year fills her with something resembling hope. She wants to leave behind the year that killed her TO and her captain and put a bullet in her heart, wants to begin the new year with a promise of better things to come. The promise of love and happiness that she's denied herself for so long.

So rather than ignoring all the festivities and traditions and going to bed at 10:00pm, she slips into a little black dress, the one she wore last year when they were undercover at that club; one she knows Castle likes, but also that covers her scars. She pairs it with black heels and ringlet curls in her hair, grabs her jacket and clutch and braces herself for the crowds and chaos of New Year's Eve in Manhattan.

It's 11:45pm when she finally makes it to Gramercy Park and steps through the doors of The Old Haunt. The place is packed, standing room only. Alexis is at a party with friends and Martha is hosting a soirée at her acting studio, so Castle decided to work tonight. Meaning he's probably (hopefully) either behind the bar or in his office and not mingling with the masses. Kate weaves her way through the sea of people, many of them clearly already plenty drunk.

She finds him behind the bar. His back is to her as he mixes a drink, sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms and a bar towel draped over his shoulder. She claims a space near one end, steps up and rests her elbows on the old wooden counter while she waits. He finishes mixing the drink, serves a couple pints of beer, glasses of wine and champagne, mixes another drink and pours a couple shots of tequila. The line never seems to end. But at last, Castle has a moment to breathe. He wipes his hands on the towel, turns to scan the array of faces.

When his gaze finally falls on her, the shift is immediate. Kate can almost feel it, the way the rest of the bar disappears when he sees her. He grins, eyes crinkling happily in the corners, and she can't help but smile back. As much as it also terrifies her, she loves the way he looks at her like she's the only person in the room. Like he loves her more than anything.

If only he knew how mutual the feeling is. Then again, that's why she's here.

"Thought you didn't celebrate New Year's," he offers, tossing the towel aside and stepping up to the counter opposite her. He rests both elbows on the bar, mimicking her position, hands falling on the countertop mere inches from hers.

Kate shrugs, leans forward and tangles her fingers with his. "I decided to make an exception," she answers, gaze fixed on their joined hands.

"Want a drink?"

Kate tilts her head to read his watch. 11:56pm. Only four minutes to go. "Champagne?" she questions, lifting her eyes to his. "But only if you're having some too."

"Coming right up."

He pours them each a glass, passes one to her with a smile and sets his next to the register. His attention is pulled away then, people placing orders for one more drink before the clock strikes twelve. Kate is content to simply watch him work. She knows he can mix drinks, knows he's been working a few bartending shifts here and there since he bought the place last year. But tonight is the first time she's really had a chance to observe him in this setting. He looks competent and at ease, smiling and chatting with the customers and the other bartenders as he serves up a steady stream of alcohol.

She thinks back to a conversation they once had about the subway, how everyone there has a story. She wonders if bartending is the same for him, a chance to learn the stories of some patrons, to write the stories of others. She wonders if he's pieced together the story of why she's here tonight. In many ways he knows her better than she knows herself; she imagines he probably has some idea.

With thirty seconds to go, drink orders wane and the crowd of revelers turn their attention to the TV screens as the ball drop and final countdown begin.

With twenty seconds left, Castle passes one final customer a drink and then turns, and Kate sees the momentary panic in his eyes when he realizes she's no longer standing at the bar. She steps up next to him, rests a hand on his arm, and both sees and feels his entire body relax as his gaze falls on her once more. He doesn't even attempt to hide the flick of his eyes over her body. She doesn't call him out; it's the reaction she was hoping for when she shimmied into the dress.

Fifteen seconds to go. Castle rests a hand in the small of her back and she leans into him as they seek the nearest TV screen and join in the countdown to a new year.

Ten. Her heart is fluttering nervously, the beat accelerating with each passing second.

Five. Her palms are sweaty, and not from the warmth of the bar.

At three, she feels Castle's hand slide around to her side.

At two, she sets her champagne on the counter next to his.

At one, she turns and lifts her arms, loops them around his neck.

At zero, she captures his lips with her own.

All around them, people are clapping and cheering and toasting and shouting 'happy new year' but Kate hears none of it. Her entire world has narrowed to the feel of Castle's lips on hers and the tight embrace of his arms across her back, holding her close. Her heart threatens to beat out of her chest and her brain feels fuzzy.

She kisses him again but ultimately pulls away before either of them can deepen it. She wants to. She wants nothing more than to begin the new year in his bed, naked and wrapped around him. But she's here tonight with a promise, not to screw things up by throwing all her progress out the window. He deserves everything she has and more, and she hasn't yet reached a place where that's what she's able to give.

So instead she releases her arms and reaches for their champagne, passing him his flute and then retrieving hers. "Happy New Year," she murmurs, raising her glass. He takes the proffered beverage, clinks his glass against hers and then takes a sip of the sweet, bubbly liquid. But his left arm is still looped around her, keeping her close, and she can tell he has no intention of letting go.

"Is there somewhere a little more private we can talk?" she whispers, lips at his ear.

It's too crowded to open the trap door to the basement office so instead they end up in a back corner of the room, out of view of all but those nearby. It's not completely private or quiet but it will have to do. Kate downs the remainder of her champagne. She wants to have a clear head for this, but she also needs some liquid courage.

"So," Castle prompts.

"So," she echoes.

"Is this just a New Year's Eve thing or are we…?" he tapers off.

"Yes and no."

He waits her out, a question in his eyes.

"It's a promise," she adds.

"Of?"

"I told you about that wall," Kate begins nervously. Castle nods and she continues. "I've been seeing a therapist."

"I didn't know that."

"He's been helping me work through everything. I'm not… there yet," Kate stammers. The words she rehearsed seem to have vanished. "But I'm getting closer. I just…"

She can't remember what she was planning to say. This all sounded so much more eloquent and circumspect in her head. But maybe unpolished and direct is what he needs. So many of their conversations are carefully guarded and nuanced, the words shrouded in hidden meaning. It's been the cause of multiple misunderstandings.

"I want this," she blurts before she can talk herself out of it. An unsolicited tear spills down her cheek and she hastily wipes it away. The small amount of courage she'd summoned has disappeared, replaced by apprehension and vulnerability. These are feelings she's become familiar with during her therapy sessions, feelings Burke has said are important to embrace rather than ignore, but she still struggles with them after so many years concealed behind her walls.

"So do I," Castle replies, and the certainty in his words reels her back from the edge of anxiety. She was fairly sure her admission of therapy wouldn't change his feelings for her, but she hadn't been able to silence the voice in her head that kept reminding her it was a possibility. She'll never understand how he knows exactly what to say in moments like this, how he always seems to find the words she needs to hear.

Kate steps into him then and he welcomes her into his embrace. She feels shaky but his touch calms and steadies her. It's so natural, so comfortable, so easy. Their physical relationship has always been kept to a minimum and maybe this is why. Now that she's here, she never wants to leave his arms.

"I'm here whenever you're ready," Castle says in a low voice.

"Soon," she promises.

"I know."

"I should go," Kate whispers, though she makes no effort to leave. Castle tightens his hold in reply. It's a long moment before she summons the strength to loosen her grip and lift her head from his shoulder. The love in his eyes as he gazes down at her makes her want to fall into him and flee all at the same time.

Instead she kisses him once more, savors the feeling of his lips on hers, so soft and warm and full of hope. "Happy New Year, Rick," she whispers as she pulls away, pauses to rest her forehead against his. It's not enough, not nearly enough to assuage her desire, but she hopes it's enough to carry them both through the next few months. For her, tonight will be a reminder of all she's fighting for. For Castle, she hopes it will be a promise that she's still worth waiting for.

When she peels her eyes open, his are twinkling with the same anticipation and happiness that she feels. He lifts both hands to tenderly cradle her jaw, presses his lips to hers one last time.

"Happy New Year, Kate."

END