Disclaimer: Surely everyone knows that I'm not Marlowe. But I'm all for him adopting me. Can that happen?

A/N: Birthday fic for someone very special to me. Happy (early) Birthday Sav! The first chapter of your miniature trilogy. I hope you like it.

The first time it happens they're enjoying a lazy evening to themselves, coming down from a case that had everyone on edge. But now, it's just them. Only them. And that's the problem. Well it isn't really a problem but it's what Kate wants to discuss with him. She's just not sure how to do that, how to tell him. Because it's only them.

Only the silence of their loft. No one else around and it's nights like these - the soft splatter of raindrops against the windows - that Castle loves. And Kate knows before he ever plops down next to her with an over exaggerated sigh that it's just turned into a really good night, for both of them. The warm tilt of his lips distracts her for a brief second - the weight in her hands becoming foreign and almost unwelcome but he doesn't reach for it and she doesn't let go.

She doesn't put the book down, only turns the page to lose herself further into the story and stretches her legs across his lap. Only giving him a small smile in return that says more than words ever could. He doesn't break their tacit bubble, not for a long moment but his hands reach for her skin, fingers tripping over the jut of her ankle bone. He's teasing with whispers of touch before his thumb presses into the arch of her foot.

They're both tired, emotionally exhausted, twisted into a shell of themselves but certain things still parade through her brain, make her respond with a soft grateful moan when the pressure increases. It's that moment that has the book falling to her chest, open and forgotten as she closes her eyes. She didn't ask for this, for his hands wrapping around her foot, fingers digging into her skin but it feels so good that she's not about to tell him to stop.

She moves the book to the coffee table, brings her hands back to run through her hair, pushing it out of her face as she sinks further into the cushions of the couch. He doesn't stop his massage, continuing on as if he's being paid for the task, a soft sweep followed by increasing pressure until she can feel the sweet relief as he makes her stretch her toes.

He's the best. That's the thought that keeps bouncing around in her skull, etching a smile across her face as she casually rests her arms over her stomach. Her fingers toying with one of the buttons. Any other night, she'd be taking it off, watching his eyes darken with want as she strips out of each layer but tonight is different. Tonight, she doesn't stop him when another soft moan works its way out of her lungs, doesn't straddle him or pull him down on top of her.

But she does suck her lip between her teeth, gnawing on it as she watches him. She studies the concentration on his face, the furrow of his brow, the thin line of his lips. And she takes it back - the thought of not wanting him. She always wants him. It's the deep seated ache in her bones, the pulse between her thighs when he catches her stare, the absolute wicked rush of heat through her blood. She almost gets carried away, almost forgets that she wants to talk to him about something important, something that will change them.

Her mind frosting over as he pulls another hum from her mouth. She drops her gaze, eyes searching out her own hands once again, catching on the ring that shimmers back at her. The memories it brings. The good and the frustrating. She won't call them 'bad' because they aren't. Nothing with him will ever be labeled as such.

"You've been quiet all day." She startles at his voice. Even with his whisper of tone, she's so lost in her own head that it jerks her out, has her catching her breath when he mumbles an apology.

But he's right. She has been quiet - so has he and that in and of itself has her wondering just what's been going on in his mind.

"Been thinking a lot." He doesn't push for more but she's going to give it anyway. "How long have we been married, Castle?"

"You know I really never thought your mind would be the first to slip." She arches an eyebrow, let's him know that she knows how long but she still wants him to answer.

"Just humor me, okay?"

"Eleven months, twelve days, and about -" His hands pause in their massage, a laugh escaping from her mouth when he checks his invisible watch. "four hours."

"You couldn't just say 'almost a year' could you?" This is why she loves him. The shrug of his shoulder and the smile on his face that gives her courage even in her weakest moments.

She draws her knees up, pulling her feet away from his hands before she lets herself forget the talk she wants to have and just reach for him. Forget everything but him. The feel of his skin sliding against her own, hands caressing, kneading, groping. Her palms already itch and she has to link her fingers, lock them together to stop herself from putting this conversation on the back burner and just jumping him.

It's the flash in his blue eyes, the way his hand wraps around her calf, the calm he brings to the nervous storm raging.

"You okay, Kate?"

"Yeah, I just...we've been married awhile and I was just -" He doesn't interrupt, not even when her eyes drop and she fiddles with her ring. "It's just us. I've been thinking we could expand. Maybe get a -"

"You want to do that? You want -"

"Yeah, I mean, yes I want a d-"

"Are you sure? This is a pretty big decision." She frowns, cocks her head to the side as he stares openly. She feels almost like she's missing something or he's missing something.

"I know."

"Okay, if you're sure."

"Great. I was thinking we could start tomorrow and go -"

"Tomorrow?" The hand on her calf clenches, strokes up to the back of her knee as he shifts closer. "Kate that's - maybe we should plan it out just a little."

"Castle it isn't that big of a deal. I mean we'll have to feed it everyday, play with it, make sure it's healthy and maybe get it a bed to sleep in."

"Maybe? I don't know about you, but if we have a baby then it needs a crib." Her mouth opens, no words coming out, heart seizing in her chest because no. No that's not what she's...but he...oh.

"A-a dog. Castle, I was talking about a dog." And it actually almost hurts, the way his face falls. The embarrassment she sees creep into his cheeks. She doesn't want him to be embarrassed. "You thought I meant..."

"You said expanding our family, I just assumed."

"I should have said 'dog' first before I ever - I'm sorry." And she's not sure why she's apologizing or why she feels the need to but it's there, burning in her chest as she rocks forward. Her knees planting themselves next to his thigh, arms hesitating to wrap around him.

"No it's - I should have let you finish instead of jumping to conclusions." Just like that, he drops the topic. She watches it disappear from his eyes, pushed back and she wants to bring it to the surface again.

"Rick," She's not saying 'no' at all. It's startling, and a bit unwelcome how willing she is to talk about this despite the fear racing down her spine but he's already shutting it down.

So for tonight, she lets it go.

"What kind of dog?" With a soft sigh, she folds herself into him, dropping against his side until she can wrap an arm around his waist. Try to hide the fact that she's more than a little terrified of the directions their conversation has already taken.

"I don't know. I thought we could just go look around. Find one we both love."

"And you wanted to go tomorrow because we have the day to ourselves." She can hear it in his voice. The fact that he's so sure she's upset or avoiding the topic of kids. It constricts in her chest, makes her think about it.

"Castle, look, it was an honest mistake, I should have been more clear and -"

"No, I should have listened instead of jumping in and getting carried away."

"I want you to get carried away. We're married, if I have any babies then it will obviously be with you and we've talked about it before. It's not some taboo subject." Sure it was a brief, rushed and slightly awkward mention of kids but it happened. Though she supposes, this is actually the first time it's been somewhat discussed. He doesn't relax. His shoulders are still tense and she can feel it thrumming in his muscles so she pushes her lips against the cotton of his shirt. "Let's get a dog first and then we'll come back to it, okay?"

They slip into silence. His hand coming up to play with the ends of her hair and she sometimes wonders if he's even aware that he's doing it. Like now, when his eyes are unfocused as if he's picturing something. Their future maybe. She can see it too and it has her snuggling into him, cheek pressing to his chest, arm tightening around him.

She doesn't really like when he's quiet. Not in circumstances such as this one. She wants him talking. Rambling on and on in that cute but slightly annoying way that he does. How he gets lost in his own thoughts, just lets them spill from his lips like she wants to hear every single one of them. But he's quiet. From the moment she mentions going to bed and he stays that way.

Playfully grinning at her while they're brushing their teeth, wiping at a spot on her cheek she missed when taking off her makeup, lips against her temple when she pulls her hair up into a messy bun. He's a tactile person. Has to put his hands on everything and she hates it. Well, sometimes she hates it. When they're working a case, when he's snooping around in her stuff.

But the way his fingers ghost over the back of her shorts, teasing the hem, his chest crowding her into the counter - that's when she becomes a very big supporter of his tactile ways. He's still too quiet, too hesitant and even when she shoves at him, tells him to behave for five seconds, he just steps out without a fuss.

He's lost in his head. That's the only explanation she has and she'll give him the time he needs to work it out. To get away from his negative thoughts and realize that he did nothing wrong, that she's not upset with him.

When she joins him, he's already in the bed, blankets tucked around him, the room darkened and she slides in on her side. He's staring at the ceiling and it takes everything she has not to mention it again. But she doesn't, not yet, she just presses her lips to his. A quick soft kiss that has his arm locking down against her spine, his fingers bunching in the fabric of her shirt, his mouth opening beneath hers to lengthen it. Make it stronger, deeper. She lets him.

Only briefly. Her lips widening into a smile, breaking the contact as the haze leaves his eyes. Bright, clear, and blue. Just the way she loves them.

He follows her when she turns on her side, pushing his chest into her back, his lips pressing a series of soft nipping kisses to her neck. The shudder that races the through her veins, makes her shift back into him on a sigh. And finally, finally she hears him.

"Something big."

"What?"

"The dog. Nothing small and yappy." She laughs, turning her head to peer up at him. The shadows dance over his features, making it hard to see but she catches a smirk. "Where is your mind, Mrs. Castle?"

And just that smart mouth of his has her shifting her hips, rocking back against him until his fingers clench at her waist.

"Easy, we're talking about our dog, remember?"

"Oh right." She stills for a moment, biting her lip as his thumb strokes beneath her shirt. "I do like big."

The sound that rumbles from his chest when she slips her arm around behind her back - sneaking it into his pajama pants - is more than enough to show her that his quiet spell has ended. She's teasing but so is he. And it's exactly what both of them need after the last several days. The easiness of this.

"Maybe a Labrador." She closes her eyes, gives him a squeeze that has his breath coming out in a hot moist rush against her neck and then she's letting go, abandoning the heat of his skin because they're both exhausted and she's more than positive she's not up for anything more than this. Not after the talking and the not talking. "Oh or we could get Golden Retriever."

"Okay."

"Dalmatian?"

"Goodnight, Castle." He doesn't hear her. If he does, he chooses to ignore her and she's honestly okay with that. It means she's going to fall asleep to the sound of his voice rumbling against her ear. It's a lot better than silence.

"German Shepherd? Or one of those really pretty huskies..." Even if his rambling is slightly annoying.

a/n: There will be smut in this story which is why I went ahead and stuck it under the M-rating.