A/N: Happy birthday Ally! I have only known you a few short months but am so glad to call you a friend. I'm sorry for all the angst lately, have a fluffy cupcake! I hope this fic is satisfactory! (all I could remember from our conversation was "fluffy Caskett at a Mets game.") Some inspiration taken by Stana Katic's throwing out the first pitch a few weeks back at Dodger Stadium, and the Mets' recent success.

This takes place on September 26, 2015. 8x01 and 8x02 happen after.

Take Me Out

"Nice throw, Mr. Castle. Throw it like that one and you'll be just fine."

Kate chuckles as the ball girl throws the baseball back at her husband, who catches it with a flourish and a grin on his face. It wasn't a good throw, not by a long shot. But, considering just 3 weeks ago he'd thrown a ball so bad it broke 2 lamps, well, the ball girl making a leaping catch on a practice throw is a huge improvement.

They're in Cincinnati, where he has a brief stop on a weeklong book tour, and he's been invited to throw out the ceremonial first pitch at a Reds game. Well, invited because the original guest had backed out, citing a scheduling conflict. But with some encouragement by Kate, Rick had accepted the offer, especially after Paula had pointed out that it could be the shortest publicity stunt of his career. Literally walk up to the mound, wave to the crowd, throw a ball, take some pictures, and wave some more. That's it. Then enjoy a ballgame, all as a guest of the team. The fact that her beloved Mets can clinch the division with a win had only encouraged Kate to fly out at the last minute.

Rick is wearing a Reds jersey with Castle and the number 13 on his back, and Kate has a matching one of her own. Which, as soon as he's done with the pitch, she'll replace with the Tom Seaver jersey that she has in her bag. Because there's no way she's not showing her colors tonight.

"You ready, babe?" she asks when he finishes his throws and saunters over to her, looking pretty darn proud of himself. She reaches for his hand and smiles when he pulls her up for a brief kiss. She's wearing sneakers, a worn pair of Chucks, and she has to lift to her toes to reach her husband's mouth.

Rick smiles against her lips. "As ready as I'll ever be." He plays it cool, but he's nervous, and he knows Kate can tell by the comforting curl of her fingers around his ear.

Kate gives him one more kiss as a Reds marketing intern approaches to collect Castle for the pitch. "You'll do fine," she says, releasing his ear with a light squeeze. "Just keep your eye on the glove and don't try too hard. Just like we practiced."

Castle smiles and waves when his name is called over the PA system, manages some sort of a slider that's a bit low and inside to a left-handed hitter. But the Reds player doesn't have to jump or run after the ball, just has to lean to his right a little, so when Castle glances over at her after the pitch, Kate gives him a grin and thumbs-up.

They've been offered box seats just on the home plate side of the visitor dugout, and they watch the game with 32,000 others, the cheers for the Mets louder than the home crowd. And by the time David Wright's 3-run home run in the ninth inning seals it, Kate is almost delirious with happiness (and a few beers), Castle right alongside her. He doesn't care about baseball nearly as much as his wife does, but she's happy, so he's happy. The hot dogs, nachos, and ice cream the two of them plow through don't hurt is overall feeling of bliss.

She chats all the way back to their hotel, about the team's last postseason appearance, and the ups and downs of the previous few years, and the sudden "Oh my God I have to call my dad." Rick can hear Jim on the other end of the phone when she does; he of course had been watching the game, and Rick just grins and curls his hand around Kate's knee as he listens to their reminiscent play-by-play.

It isn't until hours later, when Kate lays draped across him, sweaty and sated, that she seems to remember why they'd gone to the game in the first place. She lifts her head from his chest and smudges a kiss on his jaw to get him to look at her.

"Unh," Castle grunts trying and failing to lift his head. If this is how Kate is when the Mets get into the playoffs, he's going to have to take more vitamins and workout more. Because who knows what she'll be like if they win it all.

Kate grins against his neck. "You did good today, Castle," she murmurs, her head falling to his shoulder. "I'm proud of you."

"Huh?"

"The pitch," she reminds him. Jeez, she might have been a little hard on him. He hasn't been this out of it after sex in months. "You did good. You should be very proud of yourself."

Rick swipes his hand across Kate's back briefly before it drops back to the mattress. "Good teacher," he mumbles into her hair. "Sleep."

"Yes, sleep." Kate suppresses the chuckle that rises in her throat. Yeah, they're both going to be exhausted and more than a little sore tomorrow. But it's absolutely worth it. As she drifts off to sleep in her husband's arms, she wonders if she'd be able to convince him to name their firstborn after one of the players. Lucas Duda Castle, maybe? Her last thought before sleep overtakes her is that flying out here, short amount of time that it is, was worth every second and every penny. Because there's nowhere else she'd rather be.

-FIN-