The snowflakes settle on the dark wool of her coat on the walk from her car to the front door. Her feet and fingers are freezing; the heater in her car broke and she lost her gloves last week. She shoves them into her pockets but it does nothing to stop the wind from cutting across her cheeks, nipping at her ears. Her boots slide once in the slushy mess on the sidewalk outside of the building and she throws out an arm to catch herself on the brick, the stone abrading her palm.
It isn't Eduardo in the lobby; she figures he must have Christmas Eve off to spend with his family. But the part-time doorman, a college student who lives up two floors, smiles at her as he greets her from behind the desk.
The hallway is chilly as she knocks on his door, twisting her hands together for warmth. She can hear the Christmas music from behind the deep red wood before he opens the door, the music louder.
"Hey," he breathes out.
"Hi."
He smiles softly, pulling her over the threshold by her scarf. "Didn't expect you until much later. Thought the traffic would be worse on the way back from the cabin."
"I could leave, come back in a few hours if that would help," she says, curling her fingers against his side.
"I think I can figure out how to entertain you until dinner," he murmurs, kissing her gently. He jerks back sharply. "Beckett, you're freezing."
She hums, snuggling into his body. "Gonna warm me up, Castle?"
"I do know a few ways to manage that." He tugs her over to the living room, the place sparkling with twinkle lights and candles and the nearly palpable Christmas cheer. "And it starts with getting all of your clothes off," he says, pushing her coat off her shoulders and tossing it over the couch.
"Seems that would make me colder," she teases, following him through his study to the bedroom.
"Oh, you'd think," he explains, unbuttoning her shirt, warm fingers smoothing over her skin. "But the thing you do when you are totally naked helps turn the heat up."
She licks her lips as his hands move to the button of her pants. "Yeah?" she asks, her voice rough.
"Yeah. Come on," he says, quickly brushing a hand over her snow-damp hair before he nudges her toward the bathroom in just her underwear. He turns the water on in the shower, checking to make sure it isn't too hot. "So now you get into the shower and you don't get out until you've thawed."
Beckett catches the waistband of his jeans, nearly pulling him in after her. "You get in here too. I need some help getting the circulation back to my feet." Her fingers slip against the metal button on his pants as he sheds the shirt.
He presses her against the tile, shifting her leg up so that it is hooked around his calf. "I think I can help with that."
By the time they stumble out from the fogged-up bathroom, she can definitely feel her toes.