She manages to duck out of the hospital around midnight, long after Annie's fallen asleep. She stops home first, grabs a handful of gifts that she can stuff into a festive bag (some from her and some from Santa, of course) and a few small decorations. There's not too much in their apartment to begin with, but she steals a couple mini Christmas tree ornaments, a succulent covered in lights, and a couple little things to make the hospital room feel like the holiday.
Lanie's still awake, bless her, and she stops by her apartment on her way back to the hospital to pick up the present she wants Annie to open first. With a long hug and a quick goodbye, Kate returns to the hospital and puts the presents in the corner, surrounded by the decorations she's managed to carry.
With one last glance at her daughter, eyelids fluttering as she dreams, Kate tucks herself back into her chair, pulls the blanket a nurse had given to her over her body, and lets herself fall asleep.
"Mommy!"
She's pulled awake by Annie's voice, blinking away the remnants of fatigue as she moves to drop the blanket into her lap and sit herself up.
"Morning, baby," she murmurs, rubbing at her cheeks, a smile on her face for her daughter regardless. "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas!" Annie says, excitement and a squeal in her voice. "Look!"
Finally jolting into awareness, Kate trails her gaze from Annie to their surroundings, and oh. Her mouth falls open, shock and awe etched into each line of her face as she registers what's going on.
The room is filled with holiday decorations, and it's far more than the few trinkets she'd managed to bring herself. There's a small Christmas tree in the corner (it's one of those mini fake pine trees, but it's beautiful), covered in decorative ornaments, lights, tinsel, the whole nine yards, complete with a bright star on top. A row of three stockings sit against one of the walls, and to her surprise there's writing on the white tops: Santa, Annie, and Kate.
A different stack of a few presents sits beneath the lit tree beside hers now, presents she most certainly didn't provide. That's not her wrapping paper, those aren't her gifts, but she finds herself standing, circling the room, and sure enough there are names on the presents. Their names.
Her hands fly to her mouth, tears filling her eyes because how. More importantly, maybe, who?
There's some more tinsel and lots of glitter (getting that off of everything is going to be fun). A small wreath on the back of Annie's hospital door. Fake snow on the table tops. Just so many little things brought together to make it really feel like Christmas, and hell, it does.
"Mommy, it's Christmas!" Annie yells, the widest smile on her face Kate's seen since she's arrived in the hospital. "And Santa came! He knew where to find us, just like you said!"
Kate moves to the side of the bed, presses a kiss to Annie's temple and wraps her arms around her. "Of course he did," she chuckles. "I told you he wouldn't miss you, bud."
"You were right," she agrees, releasing one arm but keeping the other wrapped around her mother's shoulder, leaning her head to knock into hers. "Santa even decorated the room for us while we were asleep!"
"Yeah," she breathes, gaze trailing over everything once more. "That was very nice of him, wasn't it? We'll have to leave him extra cookies next year."
Annie gasps, pulls back with the most horrified look on her face. "The cookies! We forgot to leave cookies and milk!"
"Hey, it's okay," Kate soothes, smoothing a hand over her daughter's hair. "I'll bet he didn't even miss them. Santa gets so many cookies from every house, Ann, I'm sure he was very grateful for the short break."
The girl doesn't seem all that convinced but gives a nod. "We'll leave twice the amount of cookies next year though, right?"
Kate laughs. "Absolutely. We can even leave a mix of different cookies," she promises. "Now, what do you say you open some presents, huh?"
She grabs an armful of the gifts from beneath the tree, the ones she knows that she brought and a few of the mystery gifts, and deposits them at the end of Annie's bed. She doesn't have full range of movement yet, but she's starting to be able to shift without too much pain, and so she's able to sit up and reach for a few of them to put in her lap.
Annie grabs an oddly shaped, soft present first, one whose contents she knows.
"He's so cute!" her daughter gushes, squishing the stuffed pug to her chest before pulling it away, staring at it with a smile. "Thank you!"
"You're welcome, sweetheart. What are you gonna name him?"
She knows she's been wanting an actual pug for about a year now, but with her job and the apartment they're currently living in it's just not possible. There'd be no one to take care of it and it'd have no room to run around outside, but this pug comes with no responsibilities.
Annie holds the pug out in front of her, examining it with her tongue poking from between her teeth. "Ollie!"
"Ollie it is," Kate smiles, watching as the pug is tucked securely beneath the blankets.
She goes through the rest of the presents from her mom, Santa, and Lanie, collecting a nice array of new clothes, a few dolls, a coloring book, and a handful of books that she's been wanting. The main gift was left at home to be opened and announced later tonight.
"Look how many Santa left here," Annie says, left now with the gifts mysteriously left in the room overnight.
Kate nods, taking a seat at the edge of the bed to get closer. "He knows just how good you were this year," she says, heart swelling at the wide grin that takes over her daughter's face. "Open it."
While Annie works on opening one of the gifts, Kate's eyes catch sight of a small slip of paper, almost hidden underneath all of the fake snow on the bedside table. She grabs it, blowing off the excess flakes that come with it.
Happy Holidays!
May the joy of Christmas be with you everywhere and always
The edges of her mouth twitch upwards, a finger coming up to brush against her lip. It's a sweet note, the entire gesture so unbelievably sweet, but it's not signed and it drives her crazy.
"It's a pen pal kit!" Annie's voice brings her back, has her twisting to look at what her daughter's holding. "And stickers! I get to have a pen pal, Mommy, how cool is that!"
It's a small box, bright neon colors all over, with a handful of stickers, colored envelopes, stationary paper, and pens, perfect for a little girl who loves to write.
"That's so cool," she grins, balling up the wrapping paper to toss. "We'll just have to find you a pen pal now, Ann."
Annie nods enthusiastically, putting the kit to her side and grabbing at the other present. Out of the corner of her eye she sees a nurse in the hallway, leaning against the nurse's station and smiling as she peeks into the door.
"I'll be right back, baby," she says, patting Annie's knee as she stands, heads into the hall.
The nurse is still smiling but she's averted her gaze, gone back to whatever file it is that's in her hands. Kate walks up beside her, leaning her elbow against the same desk as she moves in closer.
"Do you know who did this?" she asks, and the nurse raises her head, looks at her with a smile but doesn't respond. "You do, don't you?"
The woman nods. "I might, but I've also been sworn to secrecy."
Kate sighs. "I just... I'd like to thank them, you know?" Which isn't a lie—she does want to thank them, she just also really wants to know who did it. She knows it surely wasn't Santa.
"I can't tell you a name," the nurse starts, glancing towards Annie and then back. "But I will tell you that this person went through a lot of effort trying to put all of those decorations up quietly."
At the end of the sentence her voice trails off, her eyes lift and settle on something behind Kate and a small smirk plays across her lips. Kate twists, follows the nurse's gaze to find Richard Castle standing at the other end of the hall, 100 feet away with yet another carrier of drinks in his hand and a sheepish smile on his face.
Her eyes widen, mouth open as she turns around fully and starts making her way towards him.
"It was you?"
His shoulders hike up to his chin, a crooked, hesitant smile on his face. "Merry Christmas?"
"I—how? Why?"
"I got a few of the night nurses to help me," he admits, tossing a small wave back to the woman she'd been talking to before he showed up. "I have... a lot of decorations in my apartment, more than one man needs, so I grabbed a few—" She makes a noise of amused disbelief, because what's going on in that room is not 'a few'. "—and waited until I figured you'd both be asleep."
It must've been early in the morning, anywhere between two and five, she figures. She's—stunned.
"I'm not a heavy sleeper," she comments, her mouth pulled to the side. "I don't understand how I didn't wake up."
"You shifted a few times, made some noises and I thought you were waking up, so I'd kind of just drop quietly to the floor and freeze."
The thought of him tossing himself to the floor every time she made the slightest shifting in the chair is hilarious, pulls a laugh from her.
"Very stealthy," she muses. "But that doesn't—I mean, why?"
His weight shifts from one foot to the other and he pauses, looks from the ground and back to her with a deep breath. "You wouldn't believe me if I said it was in the Christmas spirit?"
"I might, but..." She trails off, watches as he licks his lips, gives a small nod for her to finish. "If I'm being honest, I'm confused. I—I've seen you on Page Six," she admits with a dip of her head. "And the guy I've seen in those magazines... playboy, parties every night, womanizer... that's not the same guy that I met here a few days ago, the guy who gave me tissues and asks how my kid's doing, who brought us coffee and hot chocolate, who—who did this."
He's quiet for a minute and she continues. "I'm sorry, I know that's judgmental, I—"
"No," he cuts her off, his voice soft. "You have every right to think that. That is who I am in the papers. And I was that guy for a while, longer than I'd like to admit, and sure it was an exciting life... but I'm not in my 20's anymore. It's been a while since that's been my reality, but as my publicist says, any publicity is good publicity, right? So it's just..."
"A persona?"
He nods. "Essentially, yeah," he sighs. "It'll blow over, but it's nice, when I meet people, for them to see that I'm not that guy, you know? That I'm just... Rick Castle. Ex-playboy, sure, but current average guy, too."
She chuckles. "I'd say you're a little more than average, but I get it. If it's any consolation, it's a welcome surprise, this different side of you that's not portrayed in the media." Rick smiles, offers her a nod in thanks. "Now that that's settled... care to tell me why you really did this?"
"Ah, okay. I uh, kind of heard you on the phone the other day. With Annie's father," he says, and it feels almost as if the wind's been knocked out of her. Her lips purse together, cheeks flaming a hot pink. "I wasn't trying to listen, I swear, I just—I was standing there already waiting to hear about my mother, and I heard you, and I couldn't believe that he didn't seem to care that his daughter was having surgery. And that was awful in itself, because I've only briefly met her but she seems like a great kid, but then you said she'd be stuck here for Christmas too. I don't know, I just—I wanted to do something, make sure she, and you too, had a nice Christmas. I figured what's a few decorations, right? I had them and..."
He finally takes a break and she's too stunned to speak, can only stare at him, but he must mistake her silence for anger or distaste because he almost looks nervous, his voice rushed as he continues.
"I know it wasn't my place to do any of this, that you can make Christmas special for her all on your own and I've only known you for like two days but—"
"Rick," she says finally, cutting off his rant, waiting until he meets her gaze. "I'm not—I'm upset you heard that, yeah, but I'm not mad at you. How could I be mad when you did all of this, despite the fact that you barely know us? That's... I have no words."
"You don't have to say anything," he says. "I didn't do it to get anything in return; I didn't even want you to know it was me, but..."
But the nurse kind of gave him up with that look, yeah. Not exactly the most subtle, that one.
"I do have to say something." Before he can voice the protest she knows is seconds away, she stretches on her tiptoes and presses a chaste kiss to his cheek. "Thank you."
"It was—"
"Don't say it was nothing," she says. "Really, thank you. The way her face lit up when she saw it all, the pure joy in her eyes, it was everything I'd hoped for this morning."
He gives her a dopey grin, his eyes crinkling around the corners. "I'm glad it helped," he says. He seems to realize he's still holding drinks and looks down. "Oh! This is for you guys."
"You brought us Starbucks again?" she asks on a laugh, her head cocked to the side. "I think you've done enough, don't you?"
Shrugging, he puts the coffee in her hand anyway. "The cafeteria coffee is shit, Kate. It'd be a sin to make you drink that."
"And Annie?" she asks, a smirk on her face.
"You can't leave someone out, now, that's rude," he says, and she nods, biting the inside of her cheek.
"How's your mom doing?"
"Oh, no, Mother was discharged yesterday. She's already living it up again."
She doesn't allow herself to focus on the fact that his mother, the reason he was in the hospital and met her in the first place, was discharged yesterday, meaning that he came back of his own accord when he didn't have to just to set up this Christmas display in her daughter's room.
"Oh good, I'm glad she's feeling better," she manages.
"When does Annie get discharged?"
"Should be sometime around 3:00, thankfully," Kate says, blowing out a breath. "Not too much longer."
Rick nods in agreement. "That's good. She won't be cooped up for too long," he comments. "Well, you should get back to her."
"Yeah, she's opening some of the other gifts, which you really didn't need to put there," she says, giving him a pointed look to which he just shrugs innocently. "I should probably bring her this very delicious, and generous, hot chocolate as well."
"Please do." He hands over the tray, tossing his own finished coffee into the trash bin. She goes to turn, but he calls out. "Kate. Do you think we could see each other again?"
Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, she looks at him. He's sweet (he's also her favorite author but that's besides the point), he's proven to be a complete contrast to the playboy that's frequently portrayed on Page Six, and he took the time to decorate Annie's hospital room just so it'd feel more like Christmas.
She can't even think about a relationship right now, not with Annie recovering and her whirlwind of a job and the mess she still considers herself to be at most times, but she does think he could be a friend. Maybe even a good one.
"I'd like that," she says, her smile widening in time with his. "I'll give you my number?"
They exchange numbers and he bids her farewell, tells her to get back to her daughter, and she wanders back into Annie's room with a grin on her face to find her kid sat in a pile of chocolate and stuffed animals.
"You made out like a bandit, Ann," she laughs, picking at one of the chocolates.
Annie laughs, smiles up at her mother. "It's really good! The stuffed animals are so cute," she says, all four of them huddled to either side of her. "What's that?"
"Hot chocolate," she says, chuckling at her daughter's reaction. "Rick dropped it off."
She watches as Annie pauses, cocks her little head to the side and gives her a look, a mixture of pensive and thoughtful. Far too mature for her age, far too reminiscent of herself.
"Rick's nice," she says, then takes the hot chocolate and that's it.
Kate shakes her head, sitting at the edge of the bed to ruffle Annie's hair, brush the bangs away from her face. "Yeah, he is."
Hours later, after Annie's discharged and she manages to haul all of the Christmas things into bags, they make it back to their apartment. Annie can walk, though she has to do so slowly, and there are still some pains if she twists a wrong way. The doctor said that her age will aid her, because she's so young and healthy, but that she'd likely feel it for a few days. After at least a week, he said, she should begin getting back to her normal activities, but until then to not do anything strenuous.
She sits her daughter on the couch and sets out the rest of the presents she'd left home. She rips through them, thanking her at every turn, and the last one is the one she's been waiting for. A pang of disappointment hits her when she realizes Annie won't be able to use them right away, won't be able to start until she's healed enough, but she knows it'll be worth it.
"Here, last one," she says, handing her a festively wrapped box. "Go ahead."
Annie unwraps it to find a pair of little white skates. She gasps, wide eyes darting to Kate. "Mommy? Really?"
Kate grins, nodding. "Yup. You'll be starting lessons as soon as you can," she says, catching her daughter's forceful (as forceful as she can, really) embrace, thin arms wrapping around her neck.
"Will it be by myself? Do I get a partner? Oh, can we get those dresses?" Annie asks, pulling back, excitement written all over her face.
She laughs. "One step at a time, baby girl. We'll see how your lessons go, okay? But yes, we'll get you an outfit soon."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
Annie's been wanting to take skating classes for a while now, begging her to let her start, but the time was never right. She didn't have the extra money or time to take her to morning lessons, but she'd finally scraped together the cash with overtime hours (very reminiscent of her early days on the job, she'd found) and there are classes that start not too long after Annie's out of school.
Her daughter crashes on the couch after a while, little body exhausted with all the excitement of the day. She doesn't want to jostle her so she lets her sleep, just pulls a blanket over her and whispers a kiss to her forehead.
As she's cleaning up the remains of the presents, she finds herself gravitating towards the stockings from the hospital room, from Rick. Her fingers follow the path the fabric paint had taken when writing their names, the block letters uneven but done with care.
Stocking clutched between her fingers, eyes trailing to her sleeping daughter in the other room, a soft smile tugs at the corners of her lips.
Merry Christmas, indeed.
A/N: Thank you all for your continued support, it means so much. I do apologize that I haven't managed to reply to you all individually as I normally do my best to; it's been rough with the current state of things and I haven't been in the best place, but please know I appreciate every single review.
Also, props to all of you who saw this coming - because I'm predictable (oops), but also because it was that prompt that sparked this idea.
