Very Castle Celebrations
Chapter 35
Castle studies every article he can find on the Midtown Flood, especially regarding any crimes that might have taken place. He notes that a bag was snatched when an unfortunate shopper slipped on the ice. Karma must have been at work. Not only did the thief take a header, allowing fellow pedestrians to return the purse to its owner, but the perpetrator had to be transported to the hospital to have his arm stitched up before he was carted off to jail. A few roasted chestnuts disappeared in the confusion as well, but there was nothing that would have justified blowing up a pipe.
Perhaps the water flow was just an accident - or the result of lousy maintenance - but Castle is not giving up that easily. He's often been aware of incidents that were known to the cops but kept out of the media. Given the right motivation, Esposito can be the biggest gossip he knows. His lips might just be loosened by a large pizza with double jalapeƱo peppers. Castle decides that he might just as well provide the whole bullpen with a pre-holiday treat, an idea with which Kate readily agrees.
Esposito is attempting to pretend that sweat isn't breaking out on his brow while he consumes his fiery repast. "Castle, I don't know how you figured it out, but there wasn't just a robbery; there was a homicide while Midtown was iced over. The details haven't been released for a couple of reasons. There's the usual thing that we haven't been able to notify the next of kin yet, but Homeland Security also put a lid on it. The lab found explosive residue where that pipe gave way. DHS immediately thought terrorists, except there hasn't been a sign of anything like that and if some group of wackos claimed responsibility, the press would have picked it up.
"The victim, Celia Leder, owned a store that sells those purses that go for hundreds of bucks but look just like the ones the girls buy on Canal Street for $14.95. The place is called Ultimate Safari. A bunch of what the clerk called messenger bags went missing, supposedly thousands of dollars' worth."
To Castle, a load of high-end leather goods doesn't seem like enough of a reason to kill someone over or to turn Midtown into a slip and slide. There has to be more to the story. He remembers a passport smuggling operation involved in ritual murders he helped Kate solve, with some unwelcome assistance from Meredith. There were purses, but otherwise this case doesn't seem anything like that one. He doesn't have any more time to devote to digging - at least not until after Christmas. He waves goodbye to the saucy-faced cops and heads back to the loft, just in time to greet Alexis.
While Kate keeps an eagle eye on Jackson, Castle and his daughter ascend ladders to begin hanging garlands on the tree. Rather than any that might shed tinsel to be picked up and stuffed in the mouth of a curious toddler, the ones Castle and Kate have chosen are of rich purple - Kate's favorite color - velvet decorated in gold thread. They match large purple bows. The tree will also be done up in furry bears and plush reindeer, all outfitted in purple.
The lower branches will have an array of soft stuffed ornaments, crafted to look like characters from Star Wars, Star Trek and the Pixar Car movies. Castle bought the animated auto set in response to Jackson's newfound affection for his push and ride toy and his cuddly Lightning McQueen.
By the time the decorators have finished their labors, they are more than ready for Christmas cookies and hot chocolate with double marshmallows. Jackson, eagerly mouthing an arrowroot biscuit joins the group. Between sweet sips, Castle recounts the "Mystery of the Bagged Bags," drawing a groan from Alexis and a playful punch in the arm from Kate. When Alexis departs to indulge in some nesting of her own, Jackson is finally ready for a nap.
As far as Castle is concerned, the precious time with his wife while Jackson sails with Winken, Blinken, and Nod is not a gift to be squandered. He smooths the satin cover of the duvet, plumps the bed pillows and beckons Kate to join him. At first, they lie hand in hand in companionable silence, but Castle is feeling more than companionable. Christmastime always gets his juices flowing in more ways than one. Right now they are flowing in a decidedly downward direction.
He can see by the shift in the shade of Kate's eyes that she is not without interest in amorous activities. He feathers a kiss on the tip of her nose. Grasping the back of his neck, she thrusts her tongue between his lips, sparking a surge of flame through his body. Their lips press hard as they grab each other.
Kate reaches down to free Castle from the constriction of his pants, even as he grapples with her top to reach the treasure beneath. The trouble with the season is that they are wearing way too many clothes, but they are shedding them as fast as they can while still straining to maintain contact.
Kate's skin is blazing beneath Castle's questing hands and hungry mouth. His lips mark a trail toward her simmering center until finally encircling the needy bud. The duvet slips as she thrashes beneath his attentions, bringing them perilously close to the edge of the bed. Rather than fall off, his feet, then his knees, seek the floor. Kate's calves are on his shoulders, her feet wrapped behind his head. She is entirely open to him, moaning for completion. She clamps her lips tight as it comes, smothering the outcry rising from deep in her chest. Signalling him to stand, her legs find purchase around his waist as she urges him in.
He needs no urging. She is still hot and slick. She tightens around him as he thrusts, increasing the friction. He is close, so close, yet holding back until he feels the ripples of a new tide surrounding him. His legs are weak as they find release together, and he just manages to sink down beside her on the bed.
Castle's knees are sore, but he doesn't care. Any bruising from the pressure of the floor against them was worth the ecstatic explosion it brought. Being with Kate grows more enthralling by the day, and sometimes he can't believe how lucky he is to have her as his wife. Stroking his hand softly over her abdomen, he can still feel the silvery streaks that mark Jackson's sojourn inside her. She's been trying to banish them with potions that are hawked for the purpose, but to him the marks are beautiful. What could be more precious than having a woman carry his child and be the wife he loves more with every passing moment. If there were a Santa, his elves could never match the gift that is Kate Beckett. He just hopes she can understand just how dear to him she is. She reaches for his hand, and their fingers entwine in silent communion. Slowly his eyes focus on his leonine totem on the wall. He imagines the big cat seeking his lioness, but like Kate, she is a huntress, busy stalking her prey.
Hunting! Expensive leather merchandise! In his mind, a theory to explain the Midtown Mystery is beginning to coalesce.
