AN: Hello readers! I decided to go ahead and post Fletcher the Christmas Moose as a chapter (most of the chapter anyhow) to keep confusion to a minimum. So this is a little bit different. For the purpose of the story, Richard Castle wrote it. In real life, it's all mine. And yeah, it is different. Probably not the story I'd write...but then, I did.

Thanks to those of you still with me, I appreciate your patience. Thank you to anyone who has read, followed, favorited, and reviewed. Special thanks to Imhereforthestory, your review made me blush and just...feel not so bad about myself. Thanks. Also to merry-merry-me I hope you enjoy the story and I hope your son has a very Happy Birthday!

Not Beta'd

Chapter 9

Once everyone had changed into pajamas and reconvened in the living room Alexis presented her father with a large, thin, bound volume. "Ok, everyone get comfortable," he said, positioning himself in the middle of the large couch so that Alexis could cuddle into his left side. He snagged Kate's wrist and pulled her down to the couch and, after receiving an encouraging look from Martha who had settled herself into the big chair, she snuggled up under his right arm as he cradled book in his left.

He opened the book to the title page, "Fletcher the Christmas Moose, by Richard Castle. Illustrated by Alexis Castle, age seven."

Kate smiled up at him, at his daughter curled into his side.

He cleared his throat and began,

Fletcher the Christmas Moose

by Richard Castle

Illustrated by Alexis Castle, age seven

It was a beautiful day in the forest.

Birds were singing, plants were growing, and all of the forest creatures were getting very excited about Christmas.

Fletcher Moose was in a particularly good mood this morning. His tail was groomed, his antlers polished. He'd brushed his teeth and shined his hoofs, and to top it all off he was wearing his red tie.

It was a fine day indeed.

Today, having reached the required participant age of seven, he was going to get a part in the annual Christmas pageant that was put on by the forest animals as well as those who lived on Farmer MacGill's farm nearby.

Fletcher was very confident that he would get a part this year because he had been practicing all year.

He had practiced the part of the angel using his most joyful voice, "Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord..."

He had practiced the part of the inn keeper, saying in his deepest voice, "Sorry, no room here..."

He had practiced the part of the narrator, saying in his clearest voice, "In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered..."

He practiced bowing on one knee as if he were a wise man (he would prefer to be the one bringing frankincense).

He practiced and practiced until he had every part down. There was no way he wasn't going to get a part, a spectacular part, in this year's pageant.

Fletcher was walking along, not paying attention, whistling a Christmas tune to himself on his way to auditions, and he almost stepped on C. Auguste Possum who was to be one of those selecting who would play which part.

"Oh! Watch your step young man!" Auguste scolded as he ambled along.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't even see you there," Fletcher replied hastily.

The old possum mumbled something about Fletcher 'being too big for his own good' and continued on his way.

Fletcher paused on the path to the old barn and frowned. He needed to be more careful. It would be terrible if he lost a part because he'd stepped on one of the judges.

The noise coming from the old barn alerted Fletcher that he needed to stop dawdling. Five long strides had him almost colliding with Ole' Blake Raccoon who was pulling the barn door closed.

"Closed auditions, better hurry if you want to try out young feller'," he said as Fletcher skidded to a halt in front of him. "First time at the pageant?"

Fletcher nodded, "Yes, sir. Have they started yet?"

"Just about, hurry on in there and go to the end of the line. Wait until you're called and then tell the judge which part you're trying out for. Parts will be posted at 2:00 this afternoon."

"Thank you!" Fletcher called over his shoulder as he rushed to get a place in the tryout line.

Fletcher felt very good about his audition. He had done his absolute best joyful voice as the angel, his deepest voice as the inn keeper. He had projected loudly and clearly trying out for the part of the narrator, and knelt mostly gracefully as he tried out for the part of the wise man.

The judges, Auguste Possum and Laura Skunk, had thanked him and practically shoved him out the door.

No doubt eager to discuss which part he could play the best.

There was no way he wasn't going to get a part, a spectacular part, in this year's pageant.

When 2:00 rolled around Fletcher crowded around the barn door with the other animals to see which part he had been assigned.

Despite a valiant effort put forth, he did not get the part of the angel.

He did not get the part of the inn keeper.

He did not get the part of the narrator.

He did not get the part of a wise man.

In fact, as Fletcher read down the list of names he realized that he had not been assigned a single part.

The parts were assigned as follows:

Narrator: Spenser Squirrel

The Angel Gabriel: Hercule Owl

Mary: Jessica Cat

Joseph: Ben Fox

Baby Jesus: Peter Muskrat

Inn Keeper: Perry Dog

Wise Man 1(frankincense): Frank Rabbit

Wise Man 2 (gold): Joe Rabbit

Wise Man 3 (myrrh): Leroy Rabbit

Shepherd 1: Nero Sheep

Shepherd 2: Sam Sheep

Shepherd 3: Ellery Sheep

Townspeople 1: Veronica Duck

Townspeople 2: Hammett Pig

Townspeople 3: Jane Sheep

Angel 1: Nancy Duck

Angel 2: Cordelia Cow

Angel 3: Beatrice Pig

Donkey: Thorpe Donkey

Fletcher read and re-read the list several times to be sure he wasn't missing anything. All around him other animals were rejoicing at the parts they had received.

"I'm sorry son," Auguste Possum said as he came up behind him, "You see, you're just too big of a personality for any of these parts. You wouldn't want to outshine any of the other animals would you?"

Fletcher just stood silent and shook his head.

"That's right. That's a good lad. Have a good day now," he said and was on his way.

Fletcher watched as the other animals congratulated each other and were careful not to get in his way.

Sure he was a little clumsy sometimes. On occasion he would almost step on someone if he wasn't paying attention.

Sometimes he sang just a little too loud to himself as he wandered the forest.

He was most definitely bigger than any of the other animals around. Perhaps they found him intimidating.

But wasn't Christmas supposed to be about peace and goodwill towards others? This play they were putting on? It was about love, wasn't it? About this baby who came to save all of mankind no matter how bad they were. If they were commemorating a baby who loved all of mankind despite their many many shortcomings...shouldn't he, Fletcher, be loved despite his?

Fletcher couldn't understand how such a valuable lesson could be ignored by those he considered his friends. He took off at a gallop into the trees and didn't stop running for a long long time.

When the sun started to set Fletcher started to feel thirsty and tired. He had wandered for several hours and needed to rest.

Fletcher soon found a small stream and lay down near it. Just as his eyes were beginning to slip shut he heard a soft noise. It sounded like a small animal. His ears pricked up and he listened even harder.

Someone was crying.

Fletcher stood and searched for the source of the crying. Standing a little ways off near the very stream he had chosen to sleep next to stood a small girl shivering and crying softly in the snow.

Not wanting to frighten her, Fletcher slowly walked up to her and asked in his clearest voice, "Are you alright?"

The girl sniffled and shook her head, "Today we had to move again and must travel for many days to our new home. The children in the last village had beautiful trees that they decorated for the holidays. My wish was to have a tree of my own to decorate, but Mama and Papi won't let me have one because we cannot take a tree with us in our wagon."

Fletcher sat down on his haunches and the little girl sat on the cold wet ground. He watched her for a moment and suddenly an idea popped into his head.

"My name is Fletcher," he said gently in his deepest, "and I'm not a tree, but I'd like to help you. You may decorate my antlers if you'd like, and I can walk with you as far as you wish."

The girl beamed at him, her tears drying on her cold little cheeks. "Oh, that would be wonderful. My name is Stanislava," she said, "but don't you have a family you need to be with?"

"No," Fletcher told her, "I am alone. I wanted to be in the annual nativity pageant this year, but I am too big, and too loud, and too clumsy for any of the parts. Mr. Possum said that I had a much too big personality and would outshine the other animals. I have decided not to spend Christmas with them this year."

The little girl reached into the small bag that she was carrying and pointed to Fletcher's antlers, "May I?" she asked.

He bent his head low, just as he had when he had practiced for the part of the wise man. "Please," he said.

She climbed onto his back and wound her silk scarf around his antlers.

She pulled paper trinkets and golden baubles from the bag and hung them each with reverent care. Finally she pulled from her bag a string of lights that ran on batteries. She carefully wove them around until she was satisfied and flicked them on.

When she was finished, Stanislava hopped down and smiled widely.

"Perfect. You know, if your personality is too big, perhaps they should have made you the star."

"The star?"

"Yes. In the nativity story. The star is what guided the wise men to find the baby Jesus. It was brighter than the other stars. A big personality." She laughed. "Like you. Now you can guide me."

Fletcher grinned widely. "I would be happy to be your star, Stanislava," he said in his most joyful voice.

The little girl looked up at him with fresh tears in her eyes. "This is the best Christmas ever."

Fletcher Moose had practiced all year.

He had practiced his joyful voice.

He had practiced his deep voice.

He had practiced his clearest voice.

And he had practiced kneeling.

He thought that he had practiced to get a part in a play, but really he had been practicing for the opportunity to make one little girl's Christmas wish come true.

"The End," Castle said in a low voice. Sometime during the story Kate had snuggled even closer into his side and had started absentmindedly drawing her fingers along his thigh. He chanced a look at her and found that her eyes were focused not on the book, but on him.

"Hey," he whispered.

"Hey yourself," she smiled shyly at him.

He glanced down at Alexis who was dozing against his shoulder. His mother, cloaked in shadow stood and roused the girl, getting her moving towards the stairs. "You're welcome," she mouthed to him as she left them alone...again.

Castle carefully closed the book and set it aside. Kate didn't move. He yawned widely and stretched his arms above his head in a move that he was certain would get a rise out of her, but as he brought his arm around her shoulder he was surprised to feel her collapse more fully against him rather than swatting at him or pulling away.

"Kate?"

"Castle?"

Her voice was much clearer than the tired almost drunk sound he'd expected. She was entirely coherent. And not making him move.

"That was a really good story Castle. I really liked it."

"Thanks. I wrote it the year Alexis turned seven. She saw a moose on one of our walks near the village and started coloring up a storm when we got back to the cabin. I wanted to encourage her creativity, so I wrote the story and she colored some more. It was a pretty great bonding experience. We've read it together every year since."

"That's really sweet."

"Yeah, I'm good like that."

She poked him in the chest.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"Just checking," she smirked as she lifted herself off of him and the couch.

"Checking? For what?" He missed her warmth immediately. He tried to snag her hand but she was already walking towards the bedroom. Oh. Right. The bedroom. With the bed. That they shared.

She turned just before she reached the door. "To make sure you weren't sweet and fluffy. I don't want to get any cavities tonight."

Get any...

He was out off of the couch and attacking her mouth before she'd finished turning back toward the bedroom.

AN: And with Christmas coming up, I'll try to update sooner. I know everyone is busy...me too... so please be patient.

My wish this Christmas? Reviews.