I've spent this entire summer imagining Castle and Beckett's beautiful and magical life together so I had to write some of it down. Hence this fic. Hope you like it!

—

1. July 21, 2012

"Do you think we should go on a date?" he asked.

She opened her eyes. Blinked sleepily at him. "Huh?" she muttered, arching into him instinctively when he pressed a hand to the small of her back.

He groaned softly at the press of her sleepy, languid body against his. "A date," he choked out, mesmerized by the way she was looking at him, still half-asleep, the color high in her cheeks.

"A date," she echoed.

"Yeah," he said. He brushed the hair out her eyes, kissed the arch of her cheekbone, the tip of her nose. "I want to buy you dinner. Take you out on the town."

"Hm, we could. Or," she murmured, "we could just stay in bed all day."

She grinned at his stunned face. He was still so easy. One suggestion, one mild innuendo and he was putty in her hands. She pressed her hand to the center of his chest. Pushed him back against the mattress. Swung a leg across his waist and straddles his hips.

He stared up at her—the dark curtain of her hair, the mischievous glint in her dark green eyes. He swallowed thickly through the deep pang of arousal, the sweep of adoration that flew through his bloodstream and settled in his very bones.

"I want to take you out, Kate," he told her. "I want you to get all dressed up in some sinful, form-fitting getup. I want to buy you dinner. Take you dancing."

She tilted her head to the side, as if considering. "I don't know, Castle."

"Please?" he pressed, lips quirking downward in that pout that she secretly found irresistible.

She leaned forward, lips ghosting across his, her eyes bright and intent on his face. "I'll go," she finally conceded. "But only if I get to cop a feel on the dance floor."

He grinned, hooking his hand around her neck and tugging her close enough to kiss, mouth dragging hot and wet and grateful against hers. "Back at ya," he breathed.

—

The food was delicious. The lighting dim and romantic. The wine was warm in her stomach and buzzed in her veins, so when Castle reached across the table for her hand, she didn't hesitate, let him tug her out of her seat and onto the dance floor.

He pulled her close immediately, hand settling against her lower back, fingers brushing the circle of bare skin her dress revealed.

"You look beautiful," he breathed, dipping his head close so that his lips brushed her ear and just that touch, just that glance of skin against skin was enough to make her shiver, make her press impossibly closer.

"You might have mentioned that a couple of times," she told him.

"Hmm," he hummed darkly, lips vibrating against the sensitive skin behind her ear. "It's just so true."

"So I take it you like the dress," she husked.

He nodded slowly. His hand swept up her back, his palm warm against her skin, before dipping south again, fingers brushing the curve of her hip and the perfect curve of her ass.

She arched into him, couldn't help it. "Copping a feel?" she breathed against his lips.

He nodded, smiling. "You said I could," he pointed out.

She just smirked at him, but she knew he could see the flush of pink that swept across her chest, the way her breath caught when his fingers flexed against her, the way she couldn't help the way her hips rose to meet his.

He groaned softly, so softly it was almost lost in the music, but she heard and she knew what it meant. That this was making him just as hot as it was making her.

She rocked onto her toes, lifting into him, catching the second groan that rumbled in his chest against her mouth. He ran his tongue along her bottom lip and she immediately opened to him, letting him delve deep. He tasted like wine and decadent food.

"Cab?" she sighed into his mouth.

He nodded and grabbed her hand, practically dragging her off the dance floor and out into the night.

2. May 7, 2013

"I think we should move in together."

Her chopsticks clattered onto her plate, spraying pork-fried rice across the table. "Wh-what?" she choked out, reaching for her glass of water to try and wash down the piece of pork lodged in her throat.

"I want you to move in with me," he said again.

She gaped at him. He was serious. He was actually being serious. "Castle, I—"

"Don't say no," he said. Pleaded more like it.

"Why not?" she asked, looking down at the tangle of lo mein on her plate so she wouldn't have to see the raw hope on his face.

He sighed. Reached across the table for her hand. She hated herself for wanting to pull it back. "Because I love you," he said.

She swallowed. Jeez, he really just cut right to the chase, didn't he? "I know you do," she told him, her voice soft.

"And you love me," he continued. "And because you practically live in my apartment anyway."

"Just because I keep an extra toothbrush in your bathroom doesn't mean—"

"It's not just a toothbrush and you know it," he said and now his tone was hard, angry almost. She didn't want to make him angry. She didn't want to hurt his feelings. She just—

She loved him so much. And this felt so huge. She was terrified.

"Castle, I'm…"

"What?"

She let out a long breath. She could say it. She could tell him. She wouldn't let this turn into a fight just because she was too stubborn to give an inch. "I'm scared."

His face softened immediately. "Kate," he breathed.

She dropped her eyes from his face, took her hand back from his grasp. She hated saying things like that. It made her feel ripped open, vulnerable. She pressed her fingers into her eye sockets, feeling idiotic, wishing she could disappear.

She startled at his sudden presence beside her in the booth. He was too close. She just needed a moment to pull herself together, get her emotions under control—

"Kate." His voice was so soft and understanding. "Kate. Please look at me."

She turned her head to face him, hating that her eyes were probably glassy and red-rimmed. She was no good at this.

He leaned forward and pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to her forehead. "Do you know what today is?" he asked.

She nodded. Pressed her face into his neck. "Our one-year anniversary."

"I thought you'd forgotten."

"I could never forget."

He kissed her cheek. Lifted her chin with his forefinger and kissed her lips.

"Move in with me," he whispered against her mouth. "Move in with me, Kate. Everything will be okay."

She kissed him again, remembering that night, a year ago now, when she'd shown up at his door and laid herself bare for him to see. He hadn't made her feel stupid then. He'd made her feel loved.

Maybe it was okay to be ripped open. Maybe just for him. Because he saw her and knew her and still loved her more completely than she ever thought possible. "Okay," she murmured.

He smiled. "Okay."

3. November 2, 2015

Kate slipped out of bed, leaving Castle snoring softly, face smashed into the pillow, limbs spread haphazardly across the sheets.

She couldn't sleep. Her body was exhausted but her mind refused to settle. She pulled out her phone and slid her thumb across the screen to unlock it, quickly typing in the number she knew by heart.

His voice crackled in ear after the third ring, thick with sleep. "Katie? Are you okay?"

She nodded, then realized he couldn't see her and immediately felt ridiculous. "I'm fine, dad. I'm sorry to wake you."

"No, it's okay," her father returned, his voice clearer now. "I'm just glad you're okay. Phone calls at four in the morning are a scary thing for the father of a detective."

"I know," she said, her voice soft. She passed through Castle's study and into the living room. Sank down onto the couch, pulling her knees up to her chest. "I'm sorry to worry you. I'm really okay. I just—"

"What is it?" her father asked gently, his voice still so comforting, still enough to reassure her, to ease the anxiety tightening in her chest, even at the age of thirty-five.

"Dad, I—" She swallowed. Closed her eyes briefly. "I'm pregnant."

"Oh, Katie," he murmured, his voice warm and without judgment. "Have you told Rick?"

"No, I…He's been acting so…distant, lately. He disappears for hours at a time and is always so cryptic about it. I'd be annoyed if I wasn't so terrified."

"You need to tell him, honey," he said. "And don't be scared. He'll be thrilled."

"I would've agreed with you a week ago, but…I don't know." She took a deep breath, fighting against the tears that suddenly ached in her throat. "I never thought I'd doubt him, but the one time I really need him to be him, he's nowhere to be found."

"I know it's scary, sweetheart," her father said. "But I know how much that man loves you. I've seen it myself. Talk to him. Tell him. He'll be happy."

Kate nodded and tried to steady her breathing, to ignore the tear that slipped down her cheek and dripped off her jaw onto her leg. "I hope you're right."

—

He showed up at the precinct late in the afternoon. She was already gathering her things to go. No murder meant she could sleep. Maybe eat something she could keep in her stomach for more than ten minutes.

"Kate!" he called as soon as the elevator opened. He jogged over to her. He was practically vibrating with excitement, his face animated, his eyes bright with that boyish joy she loved so much.

But she was tired. And he hadn't been there all morning when she'd been puking her guts out pretty much non-stop. He hadn't been there when she'd almost fainted in the break room when a wave of dizziness sudden and overwhelming had washed over her.

"Where have you been?" she asked, trying to keep her tone light and failing. Nothing about her felt light. She felt heavy. And sad. And confused. He was always there for her.

"Oh, um…around," he said, vague as ever. "Come to dinner with me."

"Castle," she sighed, working to keep the exasperation out of her voice. "I'm exhausted. I feel horrible. I just want to go home and sleep."

"Are you sick?" he asked, the concern immediate and true. She wanted to scream. He was so confusing.

"No, I'm just…I'm just burnt out," she lied, not meeting his eyes. "Can we just go home?"

"Just come to Remy's with me," he pleaded. He took her hand and squeezed it. "Please, Kate."

—

A half hour later, Kate sat in a booth at Remy's, staring at her hamburger and trying not to throw up. The smell of meat was making her nauseous. The smell of everything was making her nauseous. It was making it extremely hard to concentrate on what Castle was saying.

"I just feel like, well, I just…I love you and I've been wanting to, for a long time now, to ask you something."

He paused and reached for her hand just as a waitress breezed by with a tray of steaks. Kate closed her eyes against the wave of nausea that descended over her. She swallowed thickly. Tried to focus. "Ask…ask me what, Castle?" she managed to say, forcing the words out past the overwhelming urge to gag.

He smiled at her, but it lacked its usual ease. He let go of her hand to loosen his shirt collar and it suddenly hit her how weird he was acting. His face was flushed, his hands clammy. He was nervous about something. Really nervous.

She swallowed again, feeling the greasy roiling in the pit of her stomach. How was it possible that she needed to throw up again? There was nothing left.

"Okay," Castle was saying. "Okay. I'm just going to say it."

She nodded distractedly. Pressed a hand to her stomach. "Uh, okay."

"Kate," he murmured, his voice soft. "Will you marry me?"

She leapt up from the table and sprinted into the bathroom, slamming open the door to the nearest stall. Castle rushed in right behind her. "Kate, what are you—"

He fell silent when he saw her bent over the toilet. "Oh, Kate."

He went to her immediately. Pulled back her hair. Ran a soothing hand down her back.

When her stomach finally quieted, she slumped back against the wall and sank to the floor, pressing her forehead into her knees. "I feel like shit," she muttered and god she really did. Her head was pounding. Her face was hot. Her stomach muscles ached. She looked up at Castle, who was regarding her carefully, worried and confused.

"I'm pregnant," she breathed, voice hitching around the words because this was all wrong.

His eyes widened. "You are?" He looked awestruck and joyful and she wanted to cry because she was so terrified and he was so much better at this than she was.

She nodded and turned away from him. Pressed her cheek against her knee. "Yup," she breathed, squeezing her eyes shut against the rise of emotion, the exhaustion and worry and that question he'd just asked her.

He saw it in her eyes, written all over her face, even though she worked hard to hide it. She was overwhelmed. He lowered himself to the ground next to her. Wrapped an arm around her trembling shoulders and drew her into his body.

She pressed her face into his neck and let out a shuddering breath. "Are you happy?" she asked, her voice muffled in his shirt collar.

"Kate," he murmured, his voice soft and so gentle. "Of course I am."

Her father had been right. Of course he had been. The tears ached in her throat and burned behind her eyes. He was so sweet and he loved her so much. How had she ever doubted him?

"You were acting so distant this week," she told him. You scared me, she added silently in her head.

"God, I'm so sorry, Kate," he breathed, lips pressed to the top of her head. "I should've noticed. I should've been there."

"You were busy," she murmured, smiling despite herself, despite everything.

He huffed out a soft laugh. "I guess I was. Still no excuse."

"You still want to marry me?" she asked

He looked down at her. His eyes were very bright and very blue. "I really, really do."

She smiled. Nuzzled closer. Pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw. "Want to have a baby with me?"

He nodded, grinning. He kissed her forehead and the tip of her nose. "More than anything."

He leaned away slightly and reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a ring. It was beautiful. Simple. Practical. A white gold band inlaid with diamonds. No huge diamond. Nothing that would snag.

She lifted her hand from where it rested against his chest, over his heart, so he could slip the ring on.

"Perfect fit," he said.

"Perfect fit," she agreed. She looked up at him. "Don't kiss me until I get my hands on a tic-tac."

4. June 23, 2016

Kate reached for the salt and groaned when her stomach got in the way. Castle handed it to her, trying and failing to hide his smile.

"Are you laughing at me?" she growled. "I can't believe you're laughing at me right now. You're such an asshole."

"C'mon," he prodded, smiling indulgently at her. "You gotta admit. It's a little funny."

"No, Castle, it's not. Because I'm huge and uncomfortable and I can't sleep and I'm so annoyed all the time and—"

"Oh, I've noticed," he muttered.

"You jerk!" she cried, lifting herself out of her chair with some difficulty and rounding the table to smack him soundly on the arm.

"Ow!" he squeaked. "What was that for?"

"For…for doing this to me," she accused, pointing to her stomach. "It's your fault."

"I recall you being an active participant in the baby making," he pointed out, then had the audacity to practically leer at her, wagging his eyebrows suggestively.

She lifted her hand to smack him again, but he caught her wrist and tugged her onto his lap. She landed with a huff, scowling at him. "I'm probably crushing you," she muttered, still sassy and pissed, but he could hear the true insecurity behind all the attitude.

"You're beautiful," he told her honestly.

"I'm a whale."

"Beautiful," he insisted.

"A big whale."

"Completely gorgeous," he breathed, kissing her soundly on the lips.

She sighed against his mouth, back arching when his hands began roaming across her overly sensitive skin. "God," she moaned, deepening the kiss, suddenly wanting him so badly it was kind of ridiculous.

It took practically nothing to get her turned on these days, a hidden perk of pregnancy that she was extremely glad to discover after three months of brutal morning sickness.

"Still mad?" he murmured against her neck.

"Yes," she lied.

"Bedroom?" he asked.

"You cooked me dinner."

"We can reheat it."

It was all the urging she needed. She slipped off his lap and grabbed his hand, tugging him towards the bedroom. They were just passing into his study when she stopped abruptly, hand flying to her stomach.

"What? Kate, what is it?" he asked, alarmed. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I…I think my water just broke," she breathed, looking stunned and excited and completely terrified. "Oh, my God, Castle."

"Are you…are you serious?" he cried. He pressed his hand to her rounded belly, grinning widely.

"We're having a baby," she said.

He kissed her. "Yes, we are."

5. April 11, 2018

Kate sat at a table and watched her husband dance with their son, swaying gently to the music, his cheek resting against the little head covered in wispy brown hair. She stood up a minute later and went to join them.

Castle turned and caught her eye as she walked toward him, looking absolutely stunning in her shimmering white dress, her hair loose around her shoulders. "Hey," she murmured when she reached them.

"Hey," he grinned, wrapping his free arm around her waist and tugging her into his body.

Kate leaned against him, peering down at their son's face. "Hey, Henry," she cooed, smiling when he barely stirred in his father's arms. "God, he's really out, huh?"

"It's a little past his bedtime," Castle murmured.

"It's a little past my bedtime," she said, resting her head against his shoulder and letting her eyes fall shut.

"Where did everybody go?" he asked. "There was a mass exodus a few minutes ago."

"Fireworks," she said by way of explanation.

"Oh, I completely forgot I set that up."

"You set that up?" she asked, lifting her head to look at him.

He nodded, grinning proudly. "I thought it would be cool."

"And yet here we are, dancing in an abandoned ballroom."

His smile softened. He leaned down and kissed her, parting her lips with his tongue, swallowing the moan that slipped, unbidden, from her mouth. "I'd much rather be here," he breathed.

He kissed her cheek and her forehead. She hummed softly in the back of her throat, melting into him, feeling happy and peaceful and utterly content. She had everything she'd ever wanted. He'd given her everything she ever wanted.

"I love you so much," he whispered, as if reading her thoughts. "Thank you for marrying me. For giving me our beautiful son. For building a life with me."

"You're welcome," she said. "And thank you for…everything. For being my partner. For loving me."

"I'll never stop," he promised.

"You better not," she told him, her voice teasing and light. She knew he never would.

She rocked onto her toes and pressed her smiling mouth to his, before leaning down and kissing her son on the nose, reaching up to brush her finger over his pink cheek. "We should get him to bed," she said.

"Mother said she'd take him for the night," he said, shifting the baby slightly in his arms.

She looked up at him and he could see the confliction in her face. "But he's never spent a night without us," she said anxiously, brushing a protective hand over Henry's head.

"He won't even notice," he promised. "We can even go get him when we're done."

"When we're done?" she asked, smirking up at him.

"When I'm done having my way with you in the honeymoon suite," he said, his voice low, the words rumbling in his chest.

She shivered involuntarily at the words. "Fine," she murmured. Her voice had gone husky. "You can have two hours and then I'm going to get him."

"Two hours is plenty," he said. "You have no idea what I can do with two hours."

She smiled. Leaned up and kissed him, hard and swift. "Show me," she breathed.

He grinned. "You got it."

—

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