A/N: so, i've got a little poll for my fantabulous readers ... should i write the New Year's party into a fic? it'd probably be a rather pointless bit of Caskett fluff, but hey, those are the best kind, right?! lol.
the definitions i found for 'holly' were creepily accurate for Beckett. the first one i used was just kind of ironic, but i included two more at the end that made me go "...really now?"
and, for the umpteenth time, thank you sooooooooo (x237294587345) much for the wonderful reviews! :D :D :D

Chapter 5 – Holly

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Holly (n) – that dream girl that you always want, but will never want you back; a brightly spirited person, with a lot of passion for life.

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"Hi mom."

Kate stood at the foot of her mother's grave, hands deep in her pockets, chin buried in her collar, looking at the headstone through her eyelashes. It had snowed more overnight, reaching halfway up her calves, soaking her shoes and pants. She gazed at its smooth surface stretching in front of her, unwilling to step on it.

She sighed. "It's been awhile." A gust of wind lifted her hair off her face, and she closed her eyes briefly. "I'm sorry. I meant to come last night, but … that's a long story."

She poked at the ground with her foot. She hated standing right on top of her mom's grave, simply because of the thought that she was standing on her mom, but she also hated speaking to nothing. Gritting her teeth, she finally stepped forward to stand directly in front of the headstone. She was still, however, several feet taller than the object she was talking to, and felt distinctly awkward about it. So, disregarding the snow, she sat down. She was now at eye level, more or less, with her mother's name.

Her throat tightened. "I hate that I have to talk to a slab of rock to talk to you," she said quietly. She ran her fingers lightly over the engraved letters, allowing each finger to briefly dip into each groove. Snowflakes, shaken loose, fell lightly to the ground. "I wish dad would come here once in awhile. He's better now – we're better now – but he's still trying to run away." With a slight smile, she said, "I'm not anymore."

She sighed. "I guess that's as good a segue as I'll get. I really did mean to come last night. Dad is spending Christmas with his—" she looked guiltily at the headstone, "—his girlfriend." She continued quickly. "I don't think he really loves her, though. I mean, I haven't even met her yet, so he can't be that serious about her, and even if he is, how can he fully love her if he's still not over you?" She took a deep breath and swallowed hard. "But anyway, Rick – you know, Rick Castle? I'm sure you've heard of him, he's a famous murder mystery writer. He's been following me around at work for a few months … don't ask, he pulled some strings with the mayor … and he actually decided to dig up your case." She smiled wryly. "I really hated him for it. But it's actually turned out to be a good thing … it's why I'm not running away anymore," she offered.

She began tracing a heart absentmindedly in the snow. "So yeah, he invited me to go ice skating at Rockefeller Center with him last night. Him and his daughter." She smiled. "How could I say no, right? A cute boy and a family atmosphere?" She grinned at the memory. "You would love this girl, she's incredible. Smart, mature, witty. She makes me feel inferior, and I'm 15 years older than her. Well, her boyfriend showed up while we were on line for skating last night, and I'm pretty sure she'd arranged for him to be there." She chuckled. "Either way, she left with him, so Rick and I were left alone."

She paused for a moment and glanced around, making sure nobody else was around. She wouldn't be opposed to being out in the open with what happened, but she wasn't entirely comfortable with someone seeing her having an in-depth discussion with an inanimate object. Feeling assured that she was alone, she continued. "I'm not really sure if it was a date. It sure felt like one, though. It was like … it was like something out of a movie, complete with a romantic-music, gazing-into-each-other's-eyes moment." She grinned. "Well, I think there was one. And I'm pretty sure I'm not making it up." She thought back to the night before, and giggled at the memory. "He fell over a little girl at one point. It was pretty spectacular. And he invited me back to his place for hot chocolate, but my pants were wet from the snow, so I wore a pair of his while mine were drying."

She grinned and hugged her knees. "Is it weird that I liked wearing his pants? I don't know why, but I did. It was … intimate, I guess."

She sighed. "We talked about some pretty heavy stuff." She paused. "I told him that he helped me get through … you know … because he said he feels guilty that he has so much because he thinks he doesn't help people." She hid her face in her knees. "I thought that was kind of adorable," she said, slightly muffled.

She picked up her head and rested her chin on her knees. "He's adorable most of the time, actually. When he's not driving me up a wall, he can be really sensitive. It's nice. Like, last night he told me some little things about me that he's noticed. You know, stupid little things you don't see unless you're really paying attention." She grinned, and paused. "It's still weird to talk to you about kissing someone," she said with a smile. "All I'm gonna say is that it was really good." She thought back to the feeling of his lips on her neck and her back pressed against the doorframe, and gave a little shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. "He invited me to meet his extended family on New Year's."

The wind blew fiercely for a moment, and she waited for it to stop whistling before she continued. "I really like him, mom. I probably shouldn't, but I do. I mean, he's older than me, has waaayyy more experience, lives with his mother, and has a teenage daughter." She chuckled. "Boy, that sounds terrible on paper. But he's … I don't know, he's different. I feel like he gets it. And I know that beneath his playboy, jackass exterior is a really sweet guy. And I know he really cares about me." She chewed on the inside of her cheek. "I might … no. I can't love him, not yet, it's way too soon." She dug her hands into the snow, forming little tunnels, and touched the base of the headstone. "But…" She groaned and rested her forehead against the cold stone.

She noticed that her hand was touching something leafy, that definitely didn't belong on the ground in the middle of winter. Curious, she felt around for a moment and pulled it into view. Brushing snow off of the little plant, she looked at it and felt a lump form in her throat. It was a sprig of holly, a little piece of Christmas spirit. She knew immediately who had left it. It certainly wasn't her, her dad was shacking up with some strange woman, and any of her mom's friends wouldn't just stop by on Christmas eve. And there was only one person that would go out of their way to do something like this, and who knew she planned on stopping by.

It had to be Rick.

Blinking back tears, Kate held up the sprig. "You see this, mom? This is what I'm talking about. He'll make me want to shoot him, and then he goes and does something like this." She sniffled and wiped her nose. "I don't even know how he knew where to find you! And he must've done it right after I left last night, because it was buried pretty deep. I told you he was sweet," she added quietly, as much to herself as to her mom.

After a moment, she sighed and stood up. "I should go now, unless I want to get pneumonia." She brushed the snow off her sopping pants and gently laid the holly in front of the stone.

She started to walk away, but turned back briefly. "I love you, mom." She smiled. "I hope you approve of this one."

With a final look over her shoulder, Kate trooped through the snowy graveyard and back to the sidewalk. She was headed home, where a cozy (though thoroughly and disappointingly her own) pair of sweatpants and a phone call awaited her.

FIN.

"beautiful girl brown hair and brown greenish eyes that sometimes change who loves to use sarcasm. no one really appreciates her beauty or her personality except her best friedns like rachel and her boyfriend."
-- barring the "rachel and boyfriend" thing, that's pretty damn close, no?

"The most beautiful girl in the whole wide world. Someone who is so clever that she is loved so much by this one person; but someone so thick that they don't know that this person loves them."
-- okay, this IS Beckett! o.O

muchas gracias to everyone that read and reviewed! hope you had as much fun as i did! :D