A/N: As a group, united, we are a wonderful positive force that can do amazing things. I'm lucky to know and be associated with all of you and massively grateful for Dia and Kate's hard work that was our driving force. This was written at the request of Dia, the following message is from her, for everyone involved in whatever capacity.

For Team #ThankYouTerri and all the new faces who joined us. Thank you - Dia

The first year she's less than accommodating, arms tight across her chest, grumpy faced and frowning.

"Your coffee, detective." He grins, brandishing the cup with a flourish. It's hot, steamy and delicious, but raising the beverage to her lips means her eyes flick up in anticipation and he's right there, leering at her over the brim.

"What?"

"Nothing." He smiles, too angelically, and pulls that chair to the side of her desk where it so does not belong (he keeps doing it, maybe hoping she won't notice - she does - as though one day that will be where it stays - it wont.)

Castle's been shadowing her maybe two months, exactly fifty six annoying days her mind screams, and he's just everywhere. In her personal space, claiming drawers in her desk, bringing her coffee and now leering at her.

"Mhmm." She doesn't believe his claim to nothing, not at all, but she wants the warmth of the caffeine and the jolt to get her - he's staring again and it's getting ridiculous. "What?"

"Nothing."

"I have a gun."

"It's very shiny, you should be proud, and it's really nothing," he winces, "except it's something and okay I need your help."

"I'm not falsifying documents if you're in trouble with Vice." She bites her tongue when he snorts, coughs and throws himself upright, thoroughly indignant.

"I don't date prostitutes," their eyes meet, "except for that one time I dated a prostitute but it was for a case, which we totally solved by the way."

She smirks around the cup, finally getting a decent sip and suddenly the world seems bright again, he may even escape her presence with his life.

"What is it?" She asks, mainly to stop the epic pouting session he has going on. "This favour you need, the one you'll owe me for, what is it?"

"I'll owe you?" He's back to smarmy grin and sexy self confidence (sexy to him obviously, not her, not at all her).

"Damn right."

"How, um, do you plan to exact the payment detective." His eyebrows dance, dance right there on his face, some kind of hula thing that makes her lose her train of thought for a moment. "Beckett?"

"Staying in the car every time I tell you," she blurts and his smile falls.

"Hardly salacious."

She scoffs and moves to push away. Castle grabs her wrist, pulls her hand so she careens back into the wood and only lets go when her eyeballs threaten to maim him.

"Stay in the car the next two times." He concedes.

"Ten."

"Five."

"Deal." They shake. "So what do you want me to do?"

He grins, "Come to a picnic with me?"

She yanks her hand back, "Deal's off."

It takes Castle enlisting the organisers help to finally convince her.

How he talks her into the field trip, with the captain and the boys in tow, she still can't work out. She drove them here and yet his words have sort of melded together in her head, until at one point she just said yes to shut him up.

She ignores the backwards fist bump and Ryan's squealed ecstatic yes from the back seat, but she can hardly miss the captain's grin when she catches sight of it in the rear view mirror.

Kate and Dia, clipboards in hand, pounce on them as soon as they leave the car. With beaming smiles, giddy and thankful, they usher her to the roped off area where the teams are preparing and their enthusiasm is infectious.

They explain a little about what they're doing, the whys and wherefores and their spirit and glee tug at her heart, lift her smile and soon Beckett is engrossed. She laughs, she jokes and she ignores the smug writer on the sidelines whose face beams when Montgomery casually throws out an invitation for him to be her partner.

Luckily the captain moves fast, out of her reach, before she can react. She doesn't even have time to mutter an oh jeeze or a what the hell let alone pull out the infamous death glare before the writer tag-along is dropping to his knees at her feet and tying himself to her leg.

"For charity, Beckett," he gloats, wide blue eyes innocent as a bunny, stroking her calf, thumbing aside her jeans for better access. His fingertips trail her skin, catching at the edge of her sock. She shivers and he looks up, a long slow perusal of her body above him that makes her bite her lip and look away.

When he stands he smiles widely, pleased with himself and he offers to double his donation if Ryan and Espo go up against them.

Word spreads and suddenly it's a thing. It's this great big mind of it's own thing that gallops off and takes over the day, takes over everything and leaves her with no choice but to remain tied to Castle.

It sweeps the picnic, the police picnic that he's ambushed with his kind and generous act, that she totally wants to hate him for, but can't because it's somewhat noble, even if he is using it as an excuse to stroke her leg.

She pinches his ear and brings him back up to full height more than once when he drops down at her feet under the guise of retying his shoe, and she can't even yell at him for worming his way into their cop activities the same way he's insinuated himself into her life, because it's for a good cause and - inwardly growling at herself - it's actually kinda fun.

Somehow half the precinct is limbering up and she knows that's him, him and his gigantic mouth, jibber jabbering to anyone he meets.

Before she knows it Homicide is up against Robbery and everyone in Vice is putting together teams. Donations are being thrown back and forth and the faces of the organisers light up once more with happiness.

"We're doing a good thing," he whispers in her ear, hot breath cascading down her neck as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, fanning herself to lessen the heated burn of her skin. All the while Kate finds herself tied to a man with no ability to keep still, no sense of balance or direction when strapped to another person. No sense of personal space or proprietry.

He grabs her hips to steady himself when AC pokes him and Alex Mack draws a line across her throat. They're cops, they're competitive, Kate laughs, only for him to claim her hand and march them off for a pre-race sugar rush.

Castle pulls her into his side until she elbows him and reminds him that no, she didn't bring her gun, but she knows more than one way to kill a man.

"That's hot," he purrs, this writer with wandering hands and a cheeky grin he thinks excuses his closeness.

He claims it's an accident, though part of her wonders if it's cheating, when he takes out another team, and he doesn't know her deeply competitive side just yet, the side of her that kinda thinks it's deviously clever the way he slips behind Ryan and Esposito, cutting through their leg tie before trotting away unnoticed.

"Why detective, I never would have guessed," he mumbles, almost under his breath, when she sticks out her foot and takes down Robbery, tripping them on their way to the starting line.

They win, under suspicious circumstances, "Teamwork" assailing her senses on the tail end of hot breath. He hugs her hard in front of everyone, lips to ear and he whispers until her cheeks burn and she has to push him away.

She'll never live it down.

The second year he asks her, she nods before he's even half way through his pre-planned must convince Beckett speech. He beams back and over his shoulder she catches the boys grinning at them like little meerkats with their heads raised high over their desks.

Whatever, she's actually looking forward to it.

Castle brings his family, Martha and Alexis and almost enough food to feed everyone. They call her over and under the guise of unpacking Castle asks her the all important question.

"So, uh, wanna defend our title?" He grins and that place in her chest that flutters when he does that starts to quiver.

"Can't have Espo and Ryan beat us." She shrugs like it's nothing, reaching inside the basket he's holding to snag popcorn from a tub, pretending not to see her name written on the top.

He's bringing her food, plying her with coffee and when Bex appears with coloured ribbons she snags the purple one and demands he give her his leg.

There's no way she can endure the stroke of his fingers over her calf again this year, much safer to tie them up herself. But when she drops down in front of him and wobbles, his hand lands on her head to steady her and he laughs.

Her eyes startle up and suddenly it's way more intimate than when their positions were reversed last summer.

She's on her knees looking up and the warmth of his palm cradles her skull, eyes locked in a burning gaze that screams bedroom and carpeted floors not parks and grass stains.

Oh, well maybe those too. But not in public and not for charity and not when she doesn't even know if he likes her that way.

She has to shake it off, has to control her fingers when they quiver around the double knot that binds them together.

"Yo, Beckett?" Espo yells only for Ryan to smack him in the chest.

"Mom and dad are having a moment."

Her cheeks burn but before she even has time to think of a retort Castle is pulling her up, "Just deciding how best to kick your asses again, right Beckett?"

She swallows hard and turns to stare them down, suddenly bold as she thrusts her arm through Castle's and tugs him into her side, "Right. you're going down."

Unlike her heart rate, which just about skyrockets the moment they touch.

They win, again, and Lanie credits it to their unholy mind meld, their in time movements and synchronicity.

Neither she nor Castle can bring themselves to argue, after all, Lanie's not wrong.

The third year he's only weeks post break up and Josh is off saving the world and Kate finds herself glad that, without even needing to explain why to anyone else, it can just be the two of them.

Even more people attend, more teams enter the three-legged race to raise money for the Young Storytellers foundation, more departments outside of the Twelfth dividing to conquer, splitting up and mixing the teams in a vain attempt to take them down.

Rookies and interns, medical staff from the M.E's office and even a Judge or two descend upon them. Castle's writer buddies from Black Pawn join them, word barbs thrown back and forth as Kate sees just how vicious a thesaurus war can be.

Laura and Emma, Caro and Olivia immediately split off and team up with a Ninja Doctor from Lanie's office who threatens Espo with her stethoscope, two guys from Robbery and someone called Cathey from C.S.U whose plans for rocket powered shoes hold Castle's attention a little longer than Kate finds herself comfortable with.

"They think they can beat us," Castle smiles, signing forms for her as Joy holds them out, she taps the donation page and his face lights up. "Oh my god, Beckett, we have to do this."

"Do what?

"They have a caricaturist, we donate her fee to the charity and then we get to keep the picture." He squeals it like it's the best thing ever, so excited, bobbing up and down and grinning wildly, waiting for her okay as his pen hovers over the form.

She sighs, snags the pen from his hand and laughs when he pouts, "Fine, but I'm covering the donation, and I'm keeping the picture."

"No fair."

"But if you're good," Kate can't stop the smile that presses her tongue between her teeth at his expression, "and we win!" He nods, enthusiastic, agreeing to anything, "I'll make you a copy."

They sit side by side, but almost back to back as they're drawn, the artist grinning over the top of her sketch pad every now and then in a way that makes Kate suspicious about how much of a hand Castle has already had in the outcome.

The artist signs with a giant E flourish and Kate bursts out laughing when she sees the finished product. The caricature Castle and Beckett are sitting back to back, handcuffed at the wrist but their heads are twisted towards each other conspiratorially. Castle's winking and in her hand there is a 1st place trophy.

"We can't let anyone else see this." She tells Castle with a solemn face as they walk back to the main group, "At least not until after we win."

They divvy up the new people, Ryan snagging an intern and dubbing her his favourite, his Clerkie, his date night saviour for her quick thinking escape from paperwork and they hop towards the starting line arm in arm.

Espo and Lanie argue about who goes on which side and if they even want to be partners, whilst behind them Tuuli and Perlmutter knot themselves together with bandages, conspiring in a way that terrifies and excites those around them.

Kate takes his hand at the starting line and their eyes meet for a second that lasts a lifetime. Castle's fingers entwined in hers makes her feel triumphant, long before they cross the finish line.

Four years in and it's the first time he asks without a smile on his face. He tells her she can avoid it if she wants, that he'll make an excuse and pull out himself, just double his donation if the idea of running in the dark is too much. But their midnight marathon and three legged race is already attracting press attention, Megan's on the news and spreading the word and Lauren's handing out flashlights for everyone, the little insane clip on police badge shaped ones that she knows Castle paid for.

"You're worried about me," she tells him in a surprising fit of honesty that makes his cheeks darken with an unexpected blush, "it's sweet Castle, but I'll be fine." She offers him a soft smile, half hidden by the fall of her hair as she ducks her head behind it. "Besides, I'll have you, right?"

"Always." He blurts, tangling himself up in their half promised hopes of someday. He rights himself, regains his composure, holds out his pinkie, "Partners?"

She laughs, hooks her own through it and nods, producing a pair of scissors from behind her back, "In crime."

Year five and they're in costume, narrowly avoiding Angie and her camera by ducking behind a car only to almost collide with Brooke as she adds the finishing touches to her pin-up ensemble.

They breathe a sigh of relief as they finally find themselves alone, slipping behind a tree, with tangled hands and breathless laughter, louder than they mean to be. Their new relationship makes them daring and her fingers sneak beneath his shirt to tip tap and type over his chest, writing on the castle walls that guard his heart, walls that crumble under her tender care.

God, he makes her sappy and, damn him, his touch sends fire through her blood. But it's so good, so hot so fast and screw it, if they get caught she can just quit and spend the rest of her life naked, sated and jelly limbed in his bed.

They make out alone, together, observed only by sheep on the loose from the petting zoo until a klaxon sounds and they have to run to make it back in time.

Pink cheeked and cover blown by the only three people who know they're a couple, they emerge oblivious to everyone but themselves, and quickly knot their feet together.

They win and their celebration is sedate compared to some years. At least until they make it home to the wonderfully empty cocoon of her apartment.

Six years into this thing and there's a ring on her finger and a sense of family in the air when everyone gets together. She's home from D.C for the weekend only and she thought maybe he'd mind her wanting to use their limited time with each other for this, but, in true Castle fashion, he was delighted.

Everyone is so pleased for them, gathering and offering congratulations, hugs and cheek kisses that leave her laughing and bubbly.

Diana has created a journal of all their previous victories, photographs that spiral the pages and bind their achievements into a document that makes Castle's eyes shimmer when she hands it over. An early wedding present that somehow reminds them of exactly how far they've come and the wonderful things they can be a part of.

He signs it as instructed and so does Kate, their names intimately connected by the swirl of their handwriting as they join a list of legions, all glad to donate their time and money and most of all their enthusiasm for this worthy cause.

Below a photo of Katy, Lou and Kellie taken their first year here, they scribble their message of thanks and Kate can't resist the silly sentimental side of her that lifts her pen and circles her name and Castle's with a big red heart.

They win and kiss at the finish line. He picks her up, spins her around forgetting their legs are tied together and they land in a giggling heap, champions once more.

He's caught somewhere in a battle between nerves and excitement when the seventh year rolls around. Married now, they arrive together and unpack food they made the night before, but he's banned from the precinct and missing his friends at the Twelfth.

He feels on the outs, looking in, until their family pulls him back.

Espo and Ryan make bets and trade babysitting and Ferrari use but it's only when Gate's makes her way to his side and hugs him that he really smiles.

"It's good to see you, Mr. Castle," She offers with a sharp nod, stepping back quickly but her sentiment is firm and long lasting.

Raina laughs with Marisa, hanging back with Espo as he teases the little boy running between their legs.

They stop for a moment, collectively observing their friend throwing himself into a new role. It's strange and different, much like them this year, taking on new challenges, adapting to the unexpected, change heavy in the air.

Beckett brings him in amongst the rest of them and Castle gets to know the new faces and catches up with old, his hand tight around Kate's as he keeps her close. She leans into his side and knows he understands, he's one of them. Family, always.

It's the first year he's a little hesitant to race and the first year her enthusiasm becomes their driving force. She kisses his lips, holds his face in her hands and whispers a million dirty promises into the shell of his ear seconds before the starter's pistol echoes.

He squeals, jumps in surprise when she pinches his backside, but in the end it's him dragging her across the finish line.

The eighth year sees a picnic for twelve that could feed an army spread before them on the blanket, summer sun warming the ice cream tubs already removed from the cooler until beads of perspiration gather and run down the sides.

It's not the weather to be pregnant, massively pregnant, yet here she is, at nine months, three days beyond her due date, huge and uncomfortable with her head in the lap of the man responsible as he reads names aloud to their friends and family.

Possibly the strangest police picnic she's attended, including the one where Castle did the blindfolded handstand challenge with Carto from Robbery.

"Kate?"

"Yeah I'm good, keep going."

"No, I mean Kate."

She sits up a little, hand across her eyes in the blistering sun, facing her husband, "Yes?"

"The name?"

"My name?"

"Maybe?"

"For the baby?"

"No?"

"No."

"Okay."

"They're beating us." Ryans huffs, out of breath pink cheeked and clinging to the tree for dear life. "Team T.Y.T are kicking our asses."

"What?" Beckett sits up, disgruntled and shoving at her husband for assistance, "How?"

"I don't know, but Alex and Lyssa are gonna take on Gates and Karpowski in the three legged race."

"That's good, that's what we need, Gates is a kicker." Castle nods, his eyes wide and suffused with memory.

"What we need is you two." Ryan shrugs, "I'm sure half of their team are ringers."

"They're vicious bro," Espo gasps, jogging to Ryans side, one hand to his chest, flapping his shirt to cool down, "Perlmutter cried when Nic did her Roman victory dance."

"He cried?" Kate snorts, "kinda wish I'd seen that."

They lose and this year she can't find it in herself to care, she's warm, happy and comfortable and Castle is close by. They're tactile in the summer heat, fingers catching as they drift by each other and her head stays resting on his chest.

Their joined hands curl over her stomach and she hums at the feel of three heartbeats, her\\\s, her husbands and her baby's, all keeping time with each other.

"Kate?" His breath is warm in her ear and she smiles, languid peace stealing her competitiveness for the time being.

"Mmm?"

"A few more, if you're not too tired?"

The chocolate on her fingers and tongue is cloying so she huffs and elbows up, wipes her hands on her thighs and reaches for juice, and water, celery, ooh and peanut butter, before schlumping back into his side. He's exhausted her, worn her out in the best way and her limbs are aching, her skin warm and resplendent.

"Fine, I'm good for round two, go!"

Castle snickers and their eyes catch, heat between them and -

"Yo, last time that happened," Espo points, waggles his finger at that mind meld brain twin thing they got going on, "that happened." He gestures to Kate's ridiculously swollen stomach and shakes his head.

"That was not the last time that happened." Kate grins, sliding the celery into her mouth with a devilish wink at her husband, before crunching hard on the end.

Espo winces, grimaces and loses all interest when he spies another plate of those tiny freaking sandwiches Gates despises. He picks one up, pinky aloft and nibbles at it, unaware he's being watched.

"Yes, you two," Martha chastises, when she finally tugs her eyes from the big man and his itty bitty snack, "maybe we could allow the first one to emerge before we cram in another."

Kate pouts, cupping a hand across her bump and tries to push aside the image now in her head. She already feels like a microwave about to ping!

"Dr. Dit said it could encourage labour and we are all about encouraging labour." Castle grins, stroking their child through her skin, "In fact there is a-"

"No." Alexis shakes her head, sticks her tongue out at her father and encourages Sarah Grace to do the same, "we don't want to hear that do we? Nope, we want Bean popping out when she's good and ready."

"Why are you two so convinced it's a girl?" Jenny asks, prying the ladybug stuffed animal from her husband and giving it back to her daughter.

"Castle's scared of boys." Kate laughs, not mocking because they've had this discussion, just poking lightly, taking his hand in her own to soften her words.

"I'm not scared of them," he defends, "I know what to do with a Molly, a Dee or a Medusa, but a Travis, a Dave or a Marmaduke?"

"Marmaduke?" Kate chokes torn between disgust at his choice and laughter at his expression, "Okay gimme that book, you no longer have a say in the naming of this child."

The ninth year they do this, there is a sense of determination in the air, a palpable need to regain their title. An urgency she hasn't felt for a while. Their victories don't usually come easy, never have, most likely never will, but as with all the others this one will be worth the effort.

Kate hands off their smiling, babbling, happy little boy to his father. She kisses his cheek for luck, kisses him again just because she can and watches as Castle does the same. The baby ends up in the arms of his grandfather and Kate huffs out a breath, taking stock.

It's astounding, how many people have joined since they started, how many people threw up their hands and volunteered to help where they could. Behind the scenes and on the front lines, cheering along in whatever capacity. New faces and old and everyone of them with a kind and generous heart, a willingness to give that reminds her joy exists in the strangest of places.

She waves at her son, at Alexis and Martha and revels in how lucky her kids are, how wonderful it is to know they're safe and heard and even though he cannot speak yet her boy will have a voice. She'll listen. Castle will listen and together they will help him learn the importance of giving back.

"Ready to do this?" Castle asks, his fingers sliding between her own and she smiles, sighing and leaning into him to whisper.

"I don't care if we win Castle," she decides, rising up and kissing his cheek, a thank you that spans their time together, a thank you for all the hard work, "I'm just so grateful I got to be a part of it."

The End