We'll get the biggest tree this year and trim it to the top
And spend a whole lot more than what we've got
But so what …
~Roger Cook/Wayne Jackson, Christmas Can't Be Very Far Away
Kate stepped into Castle's loft and looked around in stunned amazement. Quite a transformation had taken place since they'd left that morning – most noticeably, the ginormous tree that nearly touched the ceiling. Boxes of decorations were piled here and there, and the sounds of Christmas music ricocheted loudly off the walls.
"Wow, Castle," she breathed, her voice reflecting her surprise. "Do you have your own army of elves or something?"
Alexis popped her head out from a stack of boxes labeled 'HomemadeOrnaments' and grinned. "Nope. Just me and Grams. And the tree delivery guy. Hi, Detective Beckett."
"Don't forget the super who brought the decorations upstairs from storage," Martha breezed into the great room from the kitchen, a glass of wine in one hand and a script of some sort in the other. "Hello, darling Kate."
Before Kate could say anything in response, Martha and Alexis were nearly upside down in one of the boxes, rummaging for a particular ornament that was currently eluding them, both trying to direct the other's search efforts to no avail. With a wry grin, Kate allowed Rick to remove her coat and turned to face him as he draped it gently over one of the dining room chairs.
"You know, Castle… Sometimes I forget you're rich." She swept her gaze across the room and chuckled. "And then, something reminds me. How much did that tree cost?"
Moving to the base of the fragrant evergreen, she fingered a soft needle and felt his presence coming to stand behind her. Closely behind her. So close she had to force herself not to lean comfortably into the heat that radiated out from his body to hers.
"I don't know." She sensed a shrug lifting his broad shoulders and blushed at how acutely aware she had become of his slightest movements. "Whatever it cost is worth it, though," he continued. "It's Christmas. If you're going to splurge, Christmas is the time to do it."
A smile puckered her lips, and she pivoted on the heel of her boot to respond, realizing belatedly that he was in fact very close. Her eyes locked on his, her breath lodged somewhere between her lungs and her throat, and her knees felt like putty. His cologne assailed her senses, sparking a burst of arousal that coiled in her stomach, and she watched in fascination as his pupils dilated and his nostrils flared. What had they been talking about? She frantically wracked her brain for some sort of reminder, something – anything – to regain control of the situation. His gaze settled on her lips, and all moisture left her mouth. Taking a small step backward caused pine needles to poke tauntingly between her shoulder blades, and his hands reached out to steady her when she startled.
Christmas. Yes! That was it. Christmas and money.
"Yes, well," she swallowed thickly. "I guess the combination of being rich and being a nine-year-old on a sugar rush would mean you go all out for Christmas." Edging away from the tempting circle of his arms with a nervous smile, she poked around in the nearest box of decorations and held up an etched three-dimensional star that sparkled in the light.
He found himself mesmerized, even entranced, by the picture she made – the vision of everything he yearned for, everything he dreamed of in the quiet of the night. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders in a mass of curls that beckoned his fingers to become tangled in their softness. Her legs went on forever in the jeans that hugged her bottom like a caress, and her sweater highlighted her curves with the skill of an artist. A slight flush of red dusted her cheeks, and a nostalgic smile graced her lips. Fortunately for him (unfortunately for the others in the room), his mother chose that moment to break the spell by loudly singing an old carol – gratingly off-key – or heaven knew what temptations he might have surrendered to otherwise.
His heart ached for the dream to become reality as he comically rolled his eyes and reached for the box containing the lights. "You know," he jested. "You pay good money for someone to drag this monstrous tree up here and set it up for you… you kinda expect them to go ahead and put the blasted lights on the thing too."
Kate laughed softly, and Alexis came to stand beside her, nudging the detective with a gentle elbow. "Don't listen to him, Kate. They always offer to pre-light the tree for him, and he always refuses. I think it's a male pride ritual thing for him."
Grinning in understanding, Kate winked at the redhead. "But I bet he complains the whole time?"
"Of course," Alexis replied with an eye roll. "That's part of the whole male pride ritual, too."
"No fair insulting the man with the lights and the ladder," Castle called down to them from his perch mid-way up the ladder that leaned against the wall near the tree. "Without me, the entire decorating extravaganza falls apart."
Alexis and Kate exchanged a knowing look and spoke in unison. "Male pride ritual."
A couple of festive hours later, the massive tree was starting to look nearly decorated, and only a few ornaments remained in the boxes that now littered the great room floor. Kate had to admit that she had enjoyed the evening to the point of realizing that the vacuum of emptiness that usually invaded her heart at Christmas time was nothing more than a tiny void in the corner of her heart this year. She'd laughed at the Castle family antics throughout the night – declining to join in their boisterous sing-a-long but adding the melody of her laughter to the cacophony instead.
At the moment, she was adjusting a cluster of ornaments to better fill out a natural gap in the branches. Alexis had scooted behind the tree, commandeering a step ladder for a reason as of yet unknown, and Martha was standing back at a distance to eye their accomplishment with a critical eye. "Kate dear," she began, and the younger woman turned obediently to look at her. "Try putting that candy cane on the branch above you."
The twinkle in her gaze should have warned Kate that Martha was up to something, but she naively grabbed the offending object and strained to reach the branch indicated. "No, darling. The one above that."
"I can't – reach it," Kate explained breathlessly, a pain hitching in the scar just above her ribcage.
"Richard – help her," Martha commanded with an impatient wave of her hand, shooing her son to abandon the tree skirt he was arranging beneath the tree. "That one there – just over Kate's head. There – perfect."
Rick had barely lowered his arm from completing the mission when Alexis stuck her head around the corner of the tree and pointed upward mischievously. "Look! You guys are standing under the mistletoe," she exclaimed, an impish sparkle in her eyes. Kate knew that mistletoe hadn't been hanging there a few seconds earlier. Her lids narrowed to suspicious slits, and she swung her head around to shoot a glare in Martha's direction.
"I think we've been set up," Rick murmured in a low voice that weakened Kate's automatic defenses. She risked a peek at his face. Darn him, he didn't seem the least bit disturbed by this turn of events. They were set up alright, she knew.
And she wouldn't be at all surprised if he was behind the whole thing.
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