Wishes, Chapter Two
"Really?"
His voice sounds hollow over the hum of blood suddenly rushing in his ears. He hates his insecurity, hates that he needs the confirmation, but she's standing here, features in dark relief against the shine of his Christmas tree, the flicker of firelight punctuating the tears in her eyes, and despite all that pain, pain he thinks he's caused, she's telling him she's not going to leave him tonight. Maybe he heard her wrong.
And then she smiles, and the damn tree has nothing on her.
"Yeah, really."
Still scared half to death he might screw up again, make her change her mind, he resists the call of every cell in his body to sweep her up, kiss her senseless, carry her off to his bed. Instead, he just keeps her hand pressed to his chest, lets her feel the pound and stutter of his heart against his ribs as it washes over him.
"What does a girl have to do to get under some mistletoe around here, anyway?"
And then he's smiling, too, but only until he can get his lips to hers, and even though it's only a second, it seems like an eternity until he finds them, breathes happiness and hope out against them, nudges gently into their softness. All subtlety and gratitude, he meets heat and fervor, and she's wrapping her arms around his neck and angling him closer, tracing the pout of his lower lip with the tip of her tongue, and then all bets are off.
It's not until her legs are cinched around his waist and his fingers have found the tender skin of her lower back that he realizes they are still in his living room. Reluctantly, he takes it down a notch, pulling slowly away from their questing kiss with a lingering press to the corner of her mouth. His words get lost along her jawline.
"I have a present for you."
Chuckling, she puts an inch of space between their smiles and tightens her legs around him.
"Oh, is that what you're calling it? Don't you think I should unwrap it somewhere a little more, private?"
Well, he'd set himself up for that one.
"Not that kind of present. Well, that kind, too, but I meant I have a gift for you under the tree."
"And you want me to open it right now?"
"You did say you always got to open one gift on Christmas Eve..."
Releasing her hold on him, she slides down his body until her feet touch the floor, becoming intimately acquainted with the early evidence of the other present.
"Fine. But you have to open something, too. And not the one I brought. If I'm staying, you have to wait and open that one tomorrow."
"I didn't think you'd brought me a present."
"I've got them in my coat."
As she dodges him to find the garment in question, he can't help but smile at the difference a few moments can make. Somehow, heading for her coat holds only anticipation now.
Turning back with two small envelopes and a box in her hands, she matches his grin.
"I'll put them under the tree."
"You sure I can't open mine now?"
"Delayed gratification, Castle. You remember what that's like."
Oh, does he ever.
Following her to the tree, he digs around in back, pulls out two similarly-shaped boxes wrapped in green paper, checks the tags before handing one to her and plopping down cross-legged beside her.
Finger initially finding an edge, releasing the tape meticulously, she pauses, watches as he rips into his paper with glee, and then follows suit, a devious smile painting her lips.
Though he knows exactly what his is, he can't wait to see what she thinks of hers, and the excitement bubbles over.
Her brows lower as she raises the lid of the shirt box, eyes narrowing in confusion, and then she looks up at him through her lashes.
"Really, Castle? Reindeer pajamas?"
Pulling his own pair of Frosty the Snowman flannel PJs out and holding them up to his chest, he defends his purchase.
"What? They're very festive. And they're warm. Alexis and Mother opened theirs this afternoon!"
"A little sure of yourself with the whole convincing me to stay the night plan, weren't you?"
That forces him to pause, mirth immediately draining from his heart at the prospect of having done another idiotic thing to push her away.
"No-no, I just thought, well, just in case you stayed, then you probably wouldn't have brought any pajamas to wear, and they're good for opening presents and stockings and having Christmas breakfast tomorrow." Oh god. Biting hard on his tongue, he scrambles to fix yet another run of his mouth. Doomed. He's doomed to mess this up. "Not... that you're planning to do any of those things with us tomorrow. I know you have to meet your dad, and you said you want to go for a run, and I would never presume to-"
"Just stop, Castle. They're very sweet. And I said I would stay. That means I'll be here for breakfast. But there better be some serious loot in my stocking."
Oh, thank god she was kidding. His heart just can't take another trip to his front door tonight.
The weight of his own stupidity lifts again, and he quirks an eyebrow.
"Oh, there is, Detective. There definitely is."
# * # * # * #
The four stockings have been re-hung by the chimney with care, their contents, spread over floor and tables and sofa, ranging from M&Ms to make-up to superhero action figures, with the occasional pen and pack of specialty roast coffee beans thrown in for good measure.
Castle and Alexis have taken a break to put the overnight French toast in the oven and refill the coffee mugs, leaving his mother to regale Kate with tales of Christmases past. If only she skips over the fiasco with the wayward troop of elves and the eggnog, he might come away with his dignity. Hearing a shriek of hysterical laughter from Kate, he realizes he should know his mother better than that.
"Keg stands? With eggnog?"
"And let me tell you, those elves could hold their liquor, while my son decidedly could not. I mean, you would think I'd have taught him something after all these years."
Alexis tops off the last mug, adding cream and a pump of vanilla syrup and giving the liquid a stir, then leans in close.
"So you convinced her to stay, after all?"
Knowing his grin is nearly splitting his face, but not caring one iota, he gloats in her direction.
"I did."
"Well, stop right there, because I don't even wanna know how."
"Hey, I didn't, well, I kind of did, but that wasn't why she stayed-"
Grabbing his forearm as he sets down the cream, she turns her eyes toward the ceiling.
"Just-stop. There are some things even therapy can't fix, Dad."
"Okay, fine, but you asked."
Taking on her usual role of the bigger person, she ignores his jab and changes the subject.
"So, you gonna give her the-"
Clapping a hand over her mouth, he whispers emphatically in her ear.
"Don't say it out loud!" At her startled retreat, he softens his tone. "That woman has the ears of an owl. But yes, I'm going to give it to her."
Wrapping her hand around his wrist and removing his palm from where it's clamped over her lips, she turns narrowed eyes on him.
"Good."
And that syllable seems to be all his daughter has to say about the matter, as she lifts two of the Santa mugs and turns on her heel to deliver them.
Another mug of coffee later, all four of them are at the last gift in their piles, and Kate inspects the small box he wrapped weeks ago. Butterflies have chosen this moment to hatch and play a rousing game of charades in his stomach. It's too much. It really is. There's no way she won't completely freak out. But it was there, and it was perfect, and he couldn't very well leave it for someone else...
"It's from me. Sorry there's no tag."
Circling her smile to his whole family, she sets the box on the rug before her.
"Open yours first."
His mother and Alexis tear open the flaps on their envelopes and each pull out folded pieces of paper, both looking mildly confused, but smiling nonetheless. Martha speaks up first, excited tone sort of falling off at the end.
"It's a... sheep."
"And... a llama?" Then Alexis's smile reaches her eyes, and she looks up at Kate as something clicks. "Oh, this is that charity that promotes sustainable agriculture in under-developed countries. You donated animals in our names."
Martha's wrinkled forehead smooths markedly.
"Oh that's lovely, darling! Thank you so much."
"It's called Heifer International. You can read on their website about the communities they benefit. They work all over the world, even here in the US."
Both redheads scoot over to hug Kate, who takes the familial display of affection remarkably in stride.
Castle's hands have stopped unwrapping as he watches the drama unfold, but mostly to let the image of his three favorite people mobbed in a messy group hug in their their obnoxious Christmas pajamas soak in. But he only has so much patience, and he really wants to see what animal she picked for him, so as the ladies separate, he rips into the paper with renewed vigor.
"Ooo. Did you get me a water buffalo? No, maybe a camel. I know, a bear!"
"Dad, how does a bear provided sustainable agriculture?"
His daughter is learning way too much at college. Where's the respect for his childlike enthusiasm? Affecting affront, he spins theory, sees Beckett with half a smile already rolling her eyes.
"Collecting honey, and maybe picnic baskets."
But he's gotten through the wrapping and opened the box, only to find not a picture of an animal, but something much more... unexpected. In fact, what the hell?
"A Nebula Nine keychain? Why Beckett, you shouldn't have."
Finding her face held in a self-conscious little smile, cheeks on fire for no reason he can discern, he continues ribbing.
"Really, you shouldn't have. This is Captain What's-his-Name."
"Rennard. His name is Max Rennard. And you shouldn't be so quick to judge, Castle. That's a collector's item. It's from when the show was on the air. It's even signed."
"By our suspect?"
His girlfriend nods sedately in affirmation.
Still totally confused, he extracts the brass outline of his least favorite Starship captain from the box to inspect the signature, but before he can flip it over, he sees it's been covering up another item. And the implications nearly stop his heart.
It's a sparklingly crisp, brand new, brass key.
# * # * # * #
This story apparently wants to be a little series. I'll do my best to get it updated.
To my speed-beta, Joy, you deserve a whole team of sugar-cookie reindeer, and some Tex-Mex, though maybe not in the same sitting. :) And Sheep, I'm sorry if I've left you verklempt. I shall rectify the mistake with a healthy dose of smut in the near future.
Twitter: Kate_Christie_
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