Title: The Promise of Soon

Disclaimer: I don't own anything regarding Castle. All rights belong to ABC and Andrew Marlowe.

Spoilers: Anything up to 4x10 (mild spoilers for 4x11).

Summary: A seemingly innocent gift from Castle sends Kate on a holiday journey to rediscover her past and possibly discover a wall-less future.

Chapter One

A Stone's Throw

The morning found its way through the patchwork of mystery. It tickled and teased her face with a morning kiss. A sweet and warm reminder that there was always light where it once was dark.

She took a step forward and traced her thumb and finger along one of the papers near the bottom of the window and shutters. Her eyes scanned all that was before her: names, dates and details. All familiar. Too familiar.

On the sill, next to her half-eaten, congealed bowl of oatmeal and cold coffee, was a box. It wasn't cardboard. That was too common, too weak to hold what was needed. It wasn't metal either. A part of her didn't want it fireproof. It was wooden. Plain. Ordinary. Anyone who saw it would think just that. She would know of course, because it was meant to do what she couldn't anymore.

With a flick of her wrist, she plucked the paper she had between her fingers from its spot on the window, allowing more light to come in.

Then her hand stilled.

Did she have them memorized? Years of looking over the same words made sure of that. Would time make them fade? Did she want them to fade?

Kate pinched the paper tighter. Her gaze moved from the task at hand to her mother's picture at the top of the shutters. An image of Johanna trapped in death. A moment that seemed so great that all others fell somewhere else. Somewhere where dismissed memories of her mother were trapped in happiness.

She felt it then.

It usually happened in proximity to a certain writer. More recently, however, it happened when he wasn't there. In the morning when she could almost hear her name being said by his deep voice, or late at night when she stared into darkness wishing eyes of blue sought her out along with strong arms.

It was the strongest when she was here in front of this window. Here it rummaged within her chest, gathering forces, making thirteen years worth stone grow week. There were already cracks lured by his smile and coffee. In places there were holes summoned by his childish enthusiasm and laugh. Some parts were already in small piles of rubble welcomed by the promise of always and remembered words of love.

"Rick."

His name fell about her apartment like small flat stones that she hoped to skip across to him one day. Would he be there, though, to catch them in the aftermath of what she had been trying to do for weeks now?

As she looked up at the haloed picture of her mother, she wished the deep, rich tone of her mother's voice would float over the apartment, giving her permission.

Instead, her phone started to buzz, drawing her towards her desk.

"Beckett," she answered.

"Tis the season." Rang Esposito's voice.

"Another Santa?"

"No, the Mrs."

"Send me the location and I'll call Castle." She was about to hang up when the phone but she heard him call out to her.

"Wait...I could call Castle, if you want."

"Why?"

"'Cause we have Santa and a bunch of elves as prime suspects and..."

She smiled, knowing that Esposito and Ryan liked to feed off of Castle's warped love of mystery and run theory with him just as much as she did.

"You just want to hear his deep morning voice." Her body froze at her words and waited for it.

"Hang on a sec..." Esposito eventually responded before moving his mouth away from the his phone, "Hey Ryan? Did you know that Castle has a deep morning voice?" Esposito asked his partner causing Kate to inwardly curse.

She heard Ryan answer, "I had my suspicions. We better ask Castle to confirm that."

"Beckett? I'll be sure to ask Castle that when I-"

"I'll call him."

She hung up and looked at other hand. The paper wasn't there anymore. At some point she had let it go. It had floated into the box. Swiftly, she snatched it from its confines. This dance between paper and box had been going on for weeks now. With a slow shake of her head, she placed the paper back in it's place on her make-shift murder board.

She shouldn't have started this now. Not during this time of year. Not when January loomed so close. When would be the right time? That question pummeled her for a moment before she resigned herself to try again that evening. Now, she had a murder to solve. A different murder.

With one hand she picked up her phone and dialed his number, waiting to hear his deep voice say her name. With the other hand, Kate grabbed the ends of the shutters and slowly closed the doors until nothing could be seen.

He just couldn't see it. The early morning light streaming into his office wasn't helping either.

Rick could plot any murder he wanted and skyrocket to the New York times bestseller list, but the one staring at him now was proving to be a mystery he may never know the ending to. Fitting in a way, since he couldn't really figure her out either.

Somethings he knew. Others though, oh how he wanted to discover them. Kiss them. Hold them. Memorized them.

He got a few new glimpses when they were cuffed together. Bossy, intelligent and beautiful were all there, but he also saw her fear up close and unguarded. How she tried more than once to shield him. Protect him and comfort him. And how she let him do the same for her. How could he not? No tiger or strong hand behind her bullet would touch her. He wanted a lifetime or morning conversations that were drowsy from slumber and play, and waking up to her face. Those eyes. Morning eyes of misted deciduous forests framed by her hair. It was an intoxicating invitation to a future he longed for.

He ran his hands over his face hoping some sense could be rubbed in. He had been staring at her picture on this screen for hours, for months. Not just hers, but images of those who could be and were involved in her mother's killing and Kate's shooting.

Rick had asked her to wait. To put off solving her mother's murder and to his knowledge she had done so. Now, it was up to him. This was his mess to clean up. He had drudged it up years ago and asked her to do the impossible: to let go.

If she could then he would hold on enough for both of them and solve it for her. Take some of her darkness and wear it. She could be happy in the waiting, and in the end she could have the closure she needed.

Until then...was it still enough?

Was he enough?

His phone started to demanded his attention with a familiar buzzing sound. He moved towards his desk and looked at the caller ID, smiling instantly. He turned off the screen before he answered her, not wanting his lie looming in the background.

"Why, Detective Beckett, is this for business or pleasure?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line as if she was trying to decide between the two, "Business." Her voice had that tonal burr of the morning that eased the mild sting of her answer.

"Is it Christmas themed?" He couldn't hide the excitement in his voice.

"Yes."

He stood up from his desk and sucked in an excited breath, "Is it another Santa? Murdered and stuffed down a chimney? No! A Grandma got ran over by a vindictive reindeer?"

"Castle-"

"No! A hidden Elf fighting club where the only rule is that you don't talk about fight club or Santa's secrets like a secret candy cane cocaine ring?"

"You're as bad as Ryan and Esposito." Her voice was meant to be stern. It was meant to scold him, but he knew her eyes were twinkling. They always did.

"Who do you think taught them?"

He heard what could have been a snort of laugh, "I'll send you the address." He knew she would end the conversation so he took a chance. He just wanted another taste of it again.

"Kate?" His voice was undemanding, yet searching.

Rick could have sworn he heard a small intake of breath on her at the utterance of her name before she answered.

"What?"

The word that had been on the tip of his tongue for weeks tumbled out, low and deep, "Hi."

He imagined her smile then. Beaming, unguarded and joyful.

"You still don't know how to say goodbye, do you?"

"A goodbye would never work between us." He couldn't stop his mild longing from swirling around his words.

"It wouldn't, huh?"

"Too commonplace. We need something worth waiting for."

"And 'Hi' is worth that much?"

"For now." He had a caravan of endearments to call her and scribbled them on corners of pages and margins of what he read or wrote.

She grew quiet. Too quiet. Something was off.

"Is everything-"

"I'll see you there." Her tone suggested that she was trying to control of whatever it was.

"With coffee?" He reminded, adding a bit of levity.

"Yes, Castle, I won't forget your...our coffee." The sultry way she said his name and then 'coffee' made his body tingle. He could already taste the robust flavours of what she would have to offer him.

As he put down his phone he looked at the item on his desk. It had been ready for over a week. He didn't know how she would take it or if he should be the one giving it to her.

His phone started to buzz and he noted the address of the murder. He hoped that one day soon she would phone him for something else. Something that couldn't be labeled under 'work related'. He would take what was given now, though. They were the only things she was throwing to him at the moment and he would catch every last one of them, no matter the size or intent.

"I take it there has been a murder?" He turned and saw his mother standing there in a bright blue silk robe.

"Christmas themed."

"Ah, your favourite. That should cheer you up." She swept into the room in elegance. Her eyes searched the room, probably making sure her son wasn't here all night obsessing over things.

"I haven't been 'Grinching' it up, Mother." He had. A bit. Not enough to cancel the carving of the roast beast and only when he thought no one was looking.

"No, of course not. You always look like Santa put coal in your stocking because a certain Detective declined to spend Christmas with you."

"Esposito said that it wouldn't be fair to Ryan," Rick countered.

Martha gave her son a soft smile at his rebuff before she pointed to the box, that had yet to be wrapped, asking for permission.

He nodded his approval. Martha came around the desk and lifted the gift out of the expertly decorated dark green and gold box. She treated it like the memories that his gift contained might fall away somewhere no one could recover them. A light smile followed as Martha traced her fingers over the pages.

"How many of these did you steal from her apartment?"

"Borrowed."

"Without her permission."

"Jim gave me his permission and I'm giving it back, just encased in leather and set to song."

Martha's finger hovered over the small golden buttons on the various pages, but she didn't press them. Rick knew she couldn't invade someone's memories as readily as he could. Instead, she flipped through the pages again no doubt trying to decipher why he had chosen the order he did.

"Backwards, Darling? Really?"

"I have my reasons."

She raised her eyebrows. "Yes, but are they reasonable?"

He didn't need to answer her because she reached the last page and realization dawned on her face as she read the inscription that he had written just for Kate.

Rick shifted anxiously, waiting for her to say something else. Martha didn't oblige; she just gave a slow nod and placed Kate's gift back in the box.

"Too much?" he asked.

She looked up at her son with that look she often gave him when they talked about Beckett. It wasn't pity or sadness, just a yearning for a child's happiness. "I think it is saying exactly what you want to say."

"But..."

She gave a small dramatic wave of her hand. "But you must consider The Bard."

"It's too early for soliloquies."

She playfully slapped his arm, "'The course of true love never did run smooth.'"

"True, but 'Nothing can come from nothing'."

The older woman turned around and looked at the blank screen he had been looking at earlier. He followed suit as she said, "Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps."

"The lady doth protest too much," Castle countered.

"Only the best ones do." Martha gave him a sly look.

His mother had a point. More than one that pierced his skin leaving pin prints of warning. He was searching through Beckett's life without her knowing it and now he wanted to push a little bit and see where he stood. Just to learn his footing. He knew, as time went on, this wicked game of lies would start to play by the rules and search for the light of day.

"You better run along. I know you are dying to get there before Beckett so you can start placing bets on which Santa or reindeer is to blame."

Martha left his side and a few seconds later he was alone again.

He looked down at the present one last time before putting the Christmas box lid on and fastening it with gold ribbon. He resigned to the fact that whatever was to happen would, and maybe that was the point. Something shifted when they had been cuffed together and he didn't want to lose this momentum.

He collected his things and was just about to leave the office when his phone buzzed. Rick read the text from Esposito. It may not have been directly thrown by her, but Rick caught it nonetheless.

Rick smiled impishly as he sent a text back:

"Deep and rich. Like a lion's purr."

A/N: I hoped you enjoyed the first chapter. Reviews, constructive or in kind, would be lovely. As always, thank you for taking the time out of your day to read my work.

Cheers,

Rini :D