No more lives torn apart,

That wars would never start

And time would heal all hearts,

And everyone would have a friend,

And right would always win,

And love would never end.

This is my grownup Christmas list.

~Linda Thompson-Jenner, Grown-Up Christmas List

The crime scene was gruesome, blood splattered and sprayed and soaked and pooled everywhere the eye could see – the walls, the bed, the television, the drapes, the floor. Ryan met them at the door to the motel room, his notepad open. "Two vics," he began, adjusting his stance to allow Kate to pass through. Castle lingered in the entrance, his eyes watching her graceful movements as she headed to where Lanie knelt beside one of the victims.

"Okay – I'll tell you," Ryan quipped to Castle. "Two vics. Motel has them registered under the names of – get this – Joseph and Mary Gabriel."

"You're kidding, right? As in the Christmas story – Joseph and Mary."

Ryan shook his head. "Don't forget the angel Gabriel. We still don't know if those are their real names – or just aliases. But those are the names they used to check in last night."

"Don't tell me – let me guess," Castle drawled. "They're headed to Bethlehem?"

"Don't know yet." Esposito appeared at their sides, glancing back toward the bodies. "But wouldn't that be freaky?"

"I believe the word you're looking for is 'meta'," Castle corrected. "But something's missing. We've got Mary and Joseph – where's the baby?"

"No baby."

"Not so fast," Lanie piped up from within the room, contradicting Esposito's ill-informed reply. Pulling off her gloves, she stood to her feet and surveyed the crime scene with a critical eye. "I think some of this blood is obstetric."

"You know – now that you mention the idea," Ryan began. "The first responders to the scene said that the woman was still alive when they got here. She didn't last long, but before she died she kept whispering the name 'Joshua'."

Castle tilted his head curiously. "Could be Joseph's real name, maybe?"

"Or the baby's name."

"Possibly. Except there is no baby." Castle countered.

"Lanie," Kate summoned the medical examiner to a trash can under the sink in the small bathroom area. "Check this out."

Lanie peered inside the container, using a long liver thermometer to move aside the piles of bloody towels to see what had drawn Kate's attention. Replacing her gloves, she reached inside and pulled out something that had everyone wincing in disgust. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a placenta. Which means –"

Castle spoke around his hand, which had risen to cover his mouth in an attempt to suppress his reaction to the gory scene unfolding before him. "Which means somewhere we have a baby."

Rick leaned next to Kate against the desk in front of the murder board, watching her as she let her eyes roam across the information written there. She used her hands to push off and rose to tap the pictures that Esposito had clipped to the magnets.

"Joseph Gabriel – age 21. His wife Mary- age 20. And yes, those are their real names."

"How long have they been married?" Castle asked, his arms crossing at his chest.

"About a year." Kate looked at the file in her hand before closing it and tapping the folder thoughtfully against her bottom lip. "They were on their way from Nazareth, Texas, to –"

"If you say Bethlehem, PA, I'm going home."

She grinned. "No. They were on their way here – to Manhattan. At least that's what we assume from the fact that they didn't purchase bus tickets beyond this point. But, we don't know why they were headed here, yet. Preliminary cause of death – multiple stab wounds."

"Was Mary pregnant?"

"We haven't been able to determine that for sure yet," Kate told him. "I'm waiting for Lanie to finish the autopsies – trying not to hover. And we're still looking for next of kin to notify – hoping they can shed some light on all of this for us. Nazareth, Texas, is quite literally a map dot. Population of less than 400. Nothing open on a Sunday – not even the sheriff's office."

"So apparently murders do take the weekend off in Nazareth."

When she gave a faint smile of acknowledgment, he turned back to the board, focusing his gaze on Mary's picture. "She's so young," he observed with a somber shake of his head. "They both are. Were."

Kate returned to slouch against the desk next to him, her expression downcast, and he put a friendly, comforting arm around her shoulders. His voice low, he asked, "Any word on the baby?"

"No." She visibly sagged, the sadness etched across her face aging her by several years. "Esposito and Ryan are coordinating with the FBI – which normally we hate doing. Territory issues and all that." She shrugged. "But when a baby's involved, I'll take all the help we can get."

Removing his arm, he was surprised (pleasantly) when she reached for his hand and held it loosely, her gaze still on the murder board. He squeezed her fingers and had to almost physically restrain himself from lifting her hand to his lips for a caressing kiss along her knuckles. Patience, he told himself. You have a plan.Stick to it. No ad-libbing.

"Why don't we call it a night?" he softly asked, tugging on her fingers when she started to protest. "There's nothing more you can do right now." He waited, saw the agreement in her eyes, and added, "Come home with me."

When she shot him a startled look, he hurried to explain his invitation. "We're decorating the tree tonight. Alexis and Mother are already planning for you to be there. Notice – again – as we covered this morning – I'm not asking."

She hesitated, aware of the heat between their clasped hands, her pulse skipping erratically beneath his palm. The blue in his eyes took on a new intensity even as a knowing dimple deepened in his cheek. It was becoming hard to breathe – all from a simple touch of his hand. No one else had ever affected her this way, she realized in a heartbeat, and she sucked in a sharp gasp of realization.

"Was that a yes?" he teased.

Grinning in spite of her resolve to refuse, she heard herself say, "Okay, Rick. Sure. Sounds like fun."

"Good." He seemed quite pleased with himself, she noted. As he grabbed her coat and held it out for her, she shrugged her arms into the appropriate sleeves and caught her breath when he leaned in to graze her cheek with a soft kiss.

"Thank you," he murmured, his eyes lit with affection, and she nearly melted into a boneless puddle right there at his feet.

He'd better not have mistletoe, Kate decided as they casually left the precinct together. She wasn't sure she could survive it.