for the Castle fans
happy six years - don't stop wishing on stars

Moonbows and Solar Glories

What's so amazing that keeps us star-gazing,
And what do we think we might see?
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection,
The lovers, the dreamers, and me.

All of us under its spell. We know that it's probably magic.

-The Rainbow Connection

The moon soaks the night in the kind of milky waves that cause the whole landscape to appear insubstantial, surreal.

Is this really happening?

She's alone on the deck, bare toes against the railing, elbows tucked into her sides. She had to pull her hair back earlier in the day, and still the wind snakes little strands into her mouth, salty and thin. She scrapes them back behind her ear, one sleeve of Castle's thermal shirt falling back to her elbow.

The ocean is a reassuring susurrus far below. Whispers like a lullaby while the round eye of the moon watches over the world.

She shivers and slides her fingers into the sleeves again, bracing her elbows on the top of the wooden rail, hands propping up her chin. She can see the whole back of the lawn, a little dismal after the winter they've had, spring making a slow show of it.

The ocean surges and withdraws, and the moon scatters light across the sand.

He went for a walk, ages ago, when dinner found her tongue-tied and barely paying attention to him, listening to some far off call deep inside her. She saw him go and sighed, but still couldn't find the words.

Twilight sinks from deep green to rich blue before inking over with black. Black as far as her eye can see, black stretching vast and innumerable, immense in its depth, unmeasured black.

For a breath, for a moment, there are no stars.

Deepest darkness and no stars.

Macbeth, she remembers. Macbeth who says, Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires.

She catches a breath, another. Are they so black, her desires? Are they so deep that she'll be given no light?

Star light, star bright-

And then it happens, a slow bloom in the darkness. The stars unfurl.

The stars turn on, one by one, like the Little Prince has a hand in it, pulling chains on bank lamps and cleaning out volcanoes, allowing the far-off suns their chance to shine.

Kate catches the first star somewhere near the moon, a beauty mark to the huntress's lazy-lidded eye. She holds it in her view, closes her hands into fists as if to hold on.

First star she sees tonight.

I wish I may, I wish I might-

Sand scuffs the boards, a spectral shadow comes up the walk, the gray moon-glow around him like a halo. But it's his voice in the darkness that rises to her above the waves. "Hey, were you waiting on me?"

Have the wish-

Arms encircle her, his cold lips buried against her neck. He smells like the ocean, the shoreline where he's been prowling all evening, working something out on his own, asking and answering. A huff of his breath, "Didn't mean to make you worry."

I wish tonight.

"Happy anniversary," she says instead, turning in his arms.

His face lights up, brighter than the moon. "First day we met," he grins. "I didn't think you'd remember."

"I remember everything," she says, watching now as the stars turn on in his eyes.

I wish I might.

"Here's to another six years of mystery," he says, and he dips his mouth to meet hers in a salty kiss.

But that's not the end of things.

Oh, no. Not the end.

It's just the beginning.

She cups the nape of his neck and squeezes, pulling him back. His face is slack with love of her, and she sees the brilliant nightsky reflected in him.

"I have a few clues about what our mystery looks like," she says. "And a birthday right around mine."

"A birth-"

Castle's jaw drops. An instant of blank dark sky, and then his face creases with light, joy, wild laughter, his arms wrapping around her and picking her right up off her feet, swinging her with the stars.

"Are you-"

"I'm pregnant," she laughs. "Oops."

"Best oops of our lives."