Old Saint Rick

Rick Castle has a secret… Christmas AU set around and after 'The Fifth Bullet'

He's always objected to being called 'Old'. Do kids these days really think that an old fat guy could get around to each and every one of them across the whole world in just one night? He props his feet up on his desk and shakes his head with a sigh; he's never found anything more preposterous.

But, ultimately, it doesn't matter what he thinks, so long as he makes the list, checks it twice, and gets the right presents under the right trees without being seen… He pulls up the list on his laptop – unlike previous incumbents, he is a master of the spreadsheet – and sorts it by location. The numbers in Japan keep declining, but he knows he'll have his work cut out for him in Sub-Saharan Africa. He scrolls to look at the names of children in New York City, pausing for a moment as he taps his fingers in a rhythm on the arms of his chair. He right-clicks on the margin and inserts a new row before typing in a new name.

Katherine Houghton Beckett

He hits 'tab' to go to the next cell.

17-Nov-1979

The cell automatically turns red, a reminder to him that she's too old to be on the list. He ignores it and tabs once more through the next cells, entering her address, best means of access to her abode, and finally he pauses in the last cell. He sighs, frowning at the screen.

What does a 30-year-old woman want for Christmas these days?

Before he can answer the question, he's interrupted by his cell phone buzzing on the desk by his elbow, the ringtone blaring out that all Mariah Carey wants for Christmas is you.

"Castle. Oh, good evening, Detective. No, no, you're not interrupting anything. Yes, I'll meet you outside the gallery. See you soon."

He hits save on the spreadsheet and closes his laptop, a smile on his face. December has barely begun, he has plenty of time to figure out what he should get Beckett for Christmas.

And plenty of time to figure out what Santa Claus should put under her tree too.

It's a long day that goes through the night and by the time they've wrapped up the case and he's home, his mother is already awake and ready for the day. When he walks through the door to find her fiddling with a dead flower, he knows there's something going on. She tells him about Chet and the pressed rose he sent to her that was the boutonniere she gave him on their prom night, how conflicted she is about her relationship with her old flame.

"This is dead. You are not. Time to start making some new memories."

Martha shakes her head in wonder. "Boy, how did you get so smart?"

"It must be my dad…" he grimaces, awaiting the inevitable bump to his head from his mother.

"Dad," she tuts with a roll of her eyes as he gathers her into a hug.

When she pulls away and pats his knee with a watery smile, Rick retrieves the pressed rose from the coffee table. "I suppose it is romantic, in its own way."

Martha finishes dabbing her eyes and nods. "I think it's beautiful."

"Hmm…" Rick heaves a sigh and furrows his brow. "I need to come up with two gift ideas for Beckett."

"Two?"

"Yeah, one from me, and one from…" He glances around the empty loft before whispering, "Santa."

"Isn't she a little old for a visit from him?"

"Well… I guess, but I just… I want to find something special, to show her some Christmas magic."

"Ah, something with meaning…" Martha takes the rose from between Rick's thumb and forefinger. "Give her a memory she will never forget, kiddo, like this wonderful boutonniere."

The corners of Rick's mouth lift into a grin, "I think I'll skip the dead rose, but thanks for the advice, Mother…" He yawns as he leans over to kiss her cheek. "I'm going to get some shut eye. You go talk to Chet."

She pats his cheek with a small smile of her own. "And as for the gift from you, jewellery is always a good idea. Something small… three carats on a platinum band ought to do it."

Rick glances at his watch as he whips up the pancake mixture, checking the date counter on the gleaming face. "December 15," he mutters to himself and shakes his head.

"Morning, Dad!" Alexis calls as she dashes down the stairs, her school bag thumping on every other step.

"Hi, pumpkin." He looks up and gives her a lopsided smile. "Pancakes?"

"Yeah, please. Did you cut any fruit?"

"Not yet, can you help me with that?" Rick begins to ladle pancake batter into the hot pan on the stove.

"Sure."

Their years of performing as a team in the kitchen make their work quick and easy, Alexis selecting strawberries and blueberries from the fridge as her father cooks the pancakes. It's the work of mere moments, and soon they are both perched on stools at the kitchen bar piling fruit onto their plates and drenching the pancakes in maple syrup.

"What's on your Christmas list this year, pumpkin?" He glances up at his daughter as he talks around a mouthful of berries and syrup, just in time to see the indulgent smile and minute shake of her head.

She waits until she's finished chewing to respond, "You know I've already written to Santa, Dad, and you don't need to buy me more presents."

"How do you know how many presents I've bought for you?"

"Because you always buy one more than the year before, and last year there were twenty-seven, which was way too many anyway."

"Huh… I didn't think you'd figured that one out." He spears the last piece of pancake on his plate, pushing it around to mop up the extra syrup. Alexis gets up and takes the plates to the sink while he tidies up the rest.

"I've figured quite a few things out, Dad." She heads across the room, calling to him over her shoulder as she goes up the stairs, "…including why you go to bed so early on Christmas Eve." Rick stops in his tracks, but Alexis doesn't notice as she continues on her way. "I'm going to brush my teeth!"

He doesn't move at all for a moment, frozen in shock until he hears her moving around on the floor above, and he's able to scramble to get the dishwasher loaded.

As her feet appear at the top of the stairs, he works to keep his voice steady, as he asks, "So why do I go to bed so early on Christmas Eve, pumpkin?"

Alexis rolls her eyes at him as she returns to the kitchen. "Because you're Santa. Duh." She picks up her bag and moves across the loft, almost at the door by the time he manages to get his voice to work again.

"Wait, hang on!" Rick jogs over to her and turns her around with both hands on her shoulders. "What do you mean, I'm Santa?"

"Come on, Dad… you know what I mean. All the other kids gave up believing in Santa in, like, third grade, even though their parents kept saying there was always an extra present and that no one could figure out who had bought it, but you never let me stop believing… And when I was twelve I saw you say goodbye to Grams before you left on Christmas Eve."

Rick glances at his socked feet for a moment before returning his gaze to meet his daughter's. "I… Alexis I don't know what to say here."

She wraps her arms around her dad's waist and hugs him tight, speaking into his chest. "I've never told anyone, not even Grams, and I have a lot of questions that I know I'm probably not meant to ask…" He shrugs in response. "But if you need to leave earlier in the day on Christmas Eve then I understand and I don't mind. There's a lot of kids to visit."

Rick squeezes his daughter and kisses the crown of her head. "I'm so proud of you for keeping this a secret for so long, pumpkin. Thank you."

She grins up at him before breaking their embrace. "I've got to go, or I'm gonna be late for school!" He ushers her out of the front door with a laugh and a wave, the spell broken and normalcy returned.

"Hey, Sir, have you got a minute?"

The Captain looks up from the piece of paperwork he's checking. "Sure, Castle, what's going on? Don't you have better places to be? It's the day before Christmas Eve! Where's Beckett?"

Rick checks over his shoulder before looking back at Montgomery and venturing further into the captain's office. "The break room. Look, Roy, Esposito just told me that Beckett's on nearly every shift over the next few days. That's not… is that even allowed?"

Montgomery huffs a laugh, "Even if it weren't allowed do you think that would stop her? Doesn't matter what shifts I put her on, she'd be here at least eighteen hours every day from tomorrow till the New Year." Roy shrugs. "May as well pay her for it."

The writer drops down into one of the chairs in front of the desk with a sigh. "What if she had to take leave?"

"That's not in her vocabulary, Castle, and you know it."

"Can't you force her? I just… She works so hard." He pouts a little as he picks at an imaginary speck of dust on his jeans. "I wanted to ask her to come to the Hamptons after Christmas. I always go up there for a couple weeks, mostly to get out of Manhattan over New Year's, and I just thought…"

Rick looks up at the sound of one of Montgomery's desk drawers banging shut, and he watches the captain begin to scrawl on a form.

"I'm putting her down as on leave from December 28, that's when the rota will turn around. Beckett will hate that you've done this, Castle, but…"

"Hate that he's done what, Sir?" Beckett stands in the open doorway, her eyes narrowing at Castle as he winces in anticipation of the inevitable onslaught. "Coerced you into making me take leave right when you know it will hurt me most?"

Castle shoots up from the chair and almost knocks it over in his haste to get to her. "Beckett, it's just… you work so hard, you deserve a break." He opens his palms and gives her his best hopeful look. "I want to invite you to come to the Hamptons with me and Alexis, escape the city for a while."

Beckett's hands shift to her hips and Castle winces as she sends daggers at Montgomery with her eyes. "Don't do this to me, Sir. You know why I work the holiday."

Montgomery rises from his chair, doing up the top button on his jacket as he rounds the desk. "Yes, Kate. I know. But you have so much leave accrued that the Human Resources people have noticed and demand that you take it." He hands her the completed leave request form. "So you will be on leave for two weeks from December 28. I do not want you in the precinct during this time, do you understand?"

Anger burns in Beckett's eyes as she grinds out her response. "Yes, Sir." She turns and exits the office, Castle on her heels till they reach her desk and she slams the form on the wooden top.

He can't help it, can't stop the question from popping out. "So, will you come to the Hamptons?"

"No!" Kate shouts. The bullpen stills, and Castle focuses on Beckett so he doesn't have to see the curious look in everyone else's faces. She thuds down into her chair, pulls the nearest case file from the stack and starts to read, ignoring Castle altogether. He can feel the flush of embarrassment creep up his neck.

"Well…" he picks his coat and scarf up from his chair. "If you change your mind, you know how to reach me." He stands there for a moment awaiting a reply than never comes.

"Merry Christmas, Kate," he whispers, and studies the floorboards as he heads towards the elevator.

Exhausted is almost a sufficient word for how Rick is feeling when he arrives at his final delivery.

Almost.

He just needs to get through the next half hour, and he can be away to the beach house to collapse into his huge bed for the next as-long-as-possible. He climbs down from the sleigh – more like a delivery van on runners nowadays, but he still thinks it looks beautiful – scratching at the wiry beard on his face and chatting to the reindeer as he passes them.

"I know you're all tired, guys, but I just have this last visit and then we can head back, okay?" Blitzen shakes her head, her fur fluffing and her bells ringing in response. "I know, girl, but it's for Kate…" Dancer stomps his foot and grunts. "Okay okay, I'm going, I'll try to be quick!" Rick shakes his head with a grin when he catches Rudolph giving him a long-suffering look.

It's a matter of moments for him to get from the rooftop of Kate Beckett's building to her apartment, and a few scant seconds from front door to inside. He pushes his thick coat off his shoulders and drapes it across the back of one of the kitchen stools before he adjusts the suspenders keeping his pants up, his movements slow and quiet. It's not his usual visiting time of midnight, more like six in the morning, but with Beckett on shift at 8am, he knows he's already cutting it fine and he really doesn't want to wake her.

He steps into the kitchen and overrides the timer on the coffee percolator, switching it on to begin the making of her Christmas present. Rick returns to his coat and retrieves a pen and some North Pole headed writing paper, along with one of his special travel mugs, this one white with a red sleeve and lid, and a wrapped gift. He puts everything down on the counter, his fingers beginning to tremor as the fatigue lumbers through him, beginning his note to Kate.

Dear Katherine,

The last time I visited you was nearly thirty years ago, just before your wonderful, but particularly logical, brain decided that I could not possibly be real. I am sorry that I was not able to bring you gifts as you grew up. Your friend, Richard, wrote to me this year to tell me that you were very much deserving of a visit from me, and he asked if I could fit you into my schedule. I'm sure you know that you are a little outside of my usual age range, but I decided to make an exce-…

"NYPD! Put your hands up!"

Rick startles, dropping the pen mid-word and raising his hands. He feels the sleeves of his white t-shirt stretch around his arms as he puts his palms on the back of his head, and he awaits the next instruction. He hears her bare feet on the floorboards as she pads around to his right, he assumes in order to put herself between him and the door to prevent his escape.

"What kind of sick person dresses as Santa to break into people's homes at Chri-… Who are you?"

He knows he must look a complete state right now. He's been awake for goodness knows how many hours, magically visiting millions of homes at about midnight all over the world with a secret time travel device, and the visual transformation he has to go through to achieve that is minimal. With six hours to go till midnight, whichever time zone he is in, a thick, white beard begins to grow itself, and his hair turns a shocking white to match. By 6am, though, he'll have long-lost the perfect styling his hair to which is usually accustomed, the beard will be straggling and patchy as the hair begins to disappear into thin air, and on top of that, he knows he's sleep-deprived – complete with bags under his eyes and slowness of movement. But he also knows he has a duty to keep his identity a secret.

"Merry Christmas, Katherine…" Beckett narrows her eyes at him and lowers her guard slightly, but Rick makes no movement. He does take the opportunity to continue speaking, however. "I was just writing you a note to accompany the gift I was about to leave under your tree. Would you mind if I finished it?" He bobs his elbows to indicate she has yet to release him.

Gun still raised, she demands, "Answer my question first."

Rick smiles, the movement of his face making it look like his moustache is twitching. "I am Santa Claus. If you were to go to the top of your building right now, you would find my sleigh, and my nine reindeer… but only because I would let you see them. Usually they're protected by an invisibility shield."

Kate's head tilted to the side. "What… Seriously?"

"Yes, Katherine. Seriously."

"Okay, finish your note then." She lowers her gun but he notices she doesn't completely stand down as he removes his hands from his head without hurry, before picking up his pen and finishing off the note.

…I decided to make an exception this year. You have been on my 'good' list for a long time (we'll gloss over two or three of your teenage years) so I have brought something very special for you – a bag of freshly roasted Hacienda La Esmeralda coffee, which I picked up on my way past Mount Barú in Panama. I am sure you will appreciate and enjoy this rare delicacy.

I wish you a Merry Christmas, Katherine, and much joy in your life.

With love,

Santa

Rick signs the note and folds it, placing it on top of the gift that sits on Kate's kitchen counter. He looks up at her to find she has been watching him the whole time. "Thank you, Katherine." She doesn't respond, but she's chewing on her bottom lip with her eyes on him. He takes the opportunity to move slowly around the kitchen island, keeping it between them at all times, and begins to make her a coffee.

He is putting vanilla creamer into the coffee when she exclaims, "Your beard is disappearing…"

He lets go of the spoon he's using to stir the liquid, knows he's stayed too long and in a few seconds she'll see who he really is. He puts the creamer down on the counter and looks at her, runs a hand through his hair. It's getting darker by the minute, and when she gasps he knows the game is up.

"Castle?!"

"I don't understand," she whispers across the kitchen.

He takes a couple of small steps towards her, stopping an arm's length away. "It's what it looks like, Kate. Santa Claus is not a myth, and I am Santa Claus."

Rick watches her face cloud with disbelief, move onto confusion, make a turn through contemplation, and arrive at resolution. He gives her a small smile, which, to his relief, she returns. Rick turns a little and reaches for the travel mug, offering it to her. "This one's from me." He points at the gift on the counter, "That's from him. Wait till I've gone to open it though, please."

Kate nods, "He'd better put it under the tree, then." Rick chuckles and moves past her. He picks his coat up, ever-glad it's only the hair that changes. He doesn't actually gain weight, but the coat makes it look like he's twice the width, with its special insulation system that keeps him the perfect temperature. He does it up, grabs the gift and its accompanying note, and moves across the living room to where she's put a very small tree on a side table. Rick reaches to turn the lights on before he places the gift among the few that are already there, nestled safely under the twinkling glow. He meets Kate in the vestibule of the apartment, can't help but feel his heart filling with joy when he sees her bewitched smile.

"Thanks for the coffee, Castle." She puts the cup and her gun down on the counter and turns back to him. "I, uh… I didn't know what to get you," she huffs a laugh and breaks eye contact, a self-deprecating shrug going along with her downturned lips, "And then I got mad at you so I didn't get you anything."

Rick places his index finger under her chin and gently raises her face. "You didn't need to get me anything," he smiles, his gaze alighting all over her face as he tries to commit this moment to his memory.

"But still…" she squirms a little and he forces himself to put his hand in his pocket to stop from touching her. "Castle, I… I was wondering if your offer of spending my vacation at the Hamptons was still available…"

He gasps in delight. "Oh my God, yes, of course! Please!"

Kate laughs, her eyes crinkling at his enthusiasm, "Okay, good." She glances up above his head, and he sees her catch her bottom lip between her teeth so he follows her gaze.

Mistletoe.

When he looks back down at her, she's looking at his lips, and he feels his heart rate kick up a couple of notches. "It's tradition, Castle…"

He grins, his hands reaching for her waist to draw her a little closer to him, the feel of her hands working their way up his chest to loop behind his neck almost too distracting. He feels her body rise against his, their noses grazing, and suddenly their lips meet, sweet and gone again all too soon. When he opens his eyes, she's looking up at him with eyes full of hope and wonderment and always.

Then he takes in a breath and ruins the whole moment, his jaw almost cracking on a huge yawn.

"Oh, sorry, I'm tired," he tries to explain, the inane comment sounding stupid to his ears as soon as it leaves his mouth.

"You must be completely exhausted," she whispers, pressing another kiss to his cheek. "Get home, get some rest."

"Yeah, okay." He doesn't move from her embrace. "I've got to get the reindeers back, then I can crash out…"

Her hands slip down his arms to detach him from her, and she takes a step back. "I'll be there in a couple days, Castle."

"Can't wait. Oh! Here, I'll give you the address." He lets go of her hands and scribbles a few lines on a notepad, handing it to her with a tired smile.

As she's looking down to read the note, Kate notices glitter floating across her field of vision and when she glances up again he's gone, a whispered, "Merry Christmas," hanging in the air where he'd just been standing.

The sound of sleigh bells catches her attention and she moves to look outside just in time to see nine reindeer go past her window, followed by a huge sleigh, Castle with the reins in one hand, waving and blowing her a kiss with the other. Kate can't stop the giddy laugh that bubbles up, or the kiss she blows back before he turns the sleigh and disappears into the dawn.

She's still smiling as she picks up her coffee cup, taking another sip. The perfect present from Castle. And – her heart leaps and she turns toward the tree – there's another gift to open, this one from Santa.

With thanks to Jo for being my friend. And also for being my beta. But mostly for being my friend.

My fanfic goal for 2016 was to review 1,000 chapters/stories, and I've completely smashed that (over 2,500 and counting). In 2017, my goal will be to make my unfinished stories be less unfinished - especially Light of the Moon. It's been too long.

Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year, to you and yours.