Author's Note: We made it to 100 episodes; time to start the journey to episode two-hundred! Please review and make day!
Disclaimer: If I were Andrew Marlowe, the show would be a solid hour of Castle and Beckett making out in good lighting.
. . .
"You know it's going to hurt, right?" He says, his eyes seeking hers, which are hidden behind the book she's reading. She doesn't respond, so he rubs his hands over her stomach; a small bump has formed there, only visible for the two of them.
Kate can feel him staring at her.
"Hmm?" She breathes, still focused on the words of her book, a book that was not written by him, which she assumes is one of the reasons why he is being so persistent.
"Kate," he whines, crawling up the bed, placing a trail of kisses up her arm until he reaches her hand.
"What?!" She laughs and puts her novel down. Try as she might, she will never be able to resist him, never really has, no matter how annoying he's being.
He kisses her palm softly. "Delivering a baby hurts," he mumbles, his words stifled by her skin.
"Don't worry, Castle, I'm very aware that it's going to hurt," she brushes her fingertips across his cheek, "I can handle it."
"That's not…" He sighs, "Shouldn't we talk about if you want an epidural? Or do you want to do it naturally?"
Beckett pauses, entwining her hand with his where it rests on her stomach. She shrugs, "I haven't even thought about it yet."
"What about names? We still need to think of names. Maybe I could create a system to-,"
Beckett shakes her head, "Rick…"
"What color are we going to paint the nursery?" His voice is laced with a combination of wonder and panic, "Are we going to find out the baby's gender or let it be a surprise? And how-,"
Kate places her hands on either side of his face and gently strokes her fingers across his skin.
"Calm down," she murmurs, smiling.
He doesn't relent, 'But, Kate-,"
"Castle, our child isn't due for months. I know that we have a lot of stuff that we need to take care of before he or she gets here, but we can take care of it tomorrow. Right now I just want to relax. Okay?"
He grins up at her, nodding, and she catches herself hoping that their child will have his beautiful blue eyes. Kate leans down and kisses him, sweet and fleeting, then reaches out to pick up her novel. He stops her, grabbing her hand before she has a chance to retrieve it.
Kate glances at him curiously, brows furrowed and the beginning of a smirk on her lips. He simply squeezes her hand, "Let me?"
Her eyes soften and she smiles. "Always."
She tugs him down until his head lies on her chest, one of her hands combing through his hair, the other tangled with his. He begins, pulling words from somewhere in his imagination, a place that makes her laugh and cry and think; a place that comforts her. All of their worries fade away as he spins a tale for her and their baby.