Ok, he was pacing. He was. And it was ridiculous. From the kitchen to their bedroom. Their bedroom to his office. His feet padding anxiously against the cold wooden floors of the loft. It had only been three days since Beckett got the results of whether their baby would be a boy or a girl. He had told her he didn't want to know. He'd wait.

"Castle, you and I both know that you will not be able to wait for something like this." She had told him.

He grinned and cocked an eyebrow, eyes giving her a once over. "I waited for you, didn't I?"

And so she had left this morning to go to the precinct for desk duty. Obviously less than thrilled to be stuck in a chair all day. He always smiled at the things she did differently because she was pregnant now. For one, the way she was dressed was adorable. She stopped trying to squeeze into dress pants and a button-up and by now was wearing long cotton shirts and leggings. Her hair still fell beautifully over her shoulders, and tickled his face when he placed a kiss on her head before she left each morning. But she was also so careful. She would avoid walking through the entrance to the kitchen between the counter and the dining room because the edge of the counter stuck out and she was afraid of bumping her stomach into it. When they watched TV, and someone swore or pulled a gun, she'd slowly put her hands on her stomach, almost as if she was trying to block out the evil. He figured she'd do that for the rest of her life for their child. Block out the evil that has so many times tried swallowing her.

He ran into the bookcase. Two copies of Casino Royale falling to the floor, along with Kate's well-worn copy of Storm Rising that she always claimed she read "only once or twice, Castle" He couldn't do it. He might have been able to wait for Kate, but at least there was progress. ehH He can't pace around the loft for four more months. Cleaning up his mess with a huff, he searched his desk until he found his phone.

"Beckett."

"Hi, Kate."

She can hear it in his voice. The eagerness, the anxiety. "What is it, Castle? Zombie apocalypse? Stove caught on fire? Can't find your Star Wars DVD?"

"HA HA very funny. No. I can't do this, Beckett. I need to know."

He heard her laugh on the other line, calling out to Esposito that he owed her five dollars.

"Really Beckett," he whined, sitting down in his desk chair. "You bet on me?"

Castle heard Beckett stifle a laugh, picturing her sitting in her desk chair, hand hiding her smile, looking over at Castle's empty chair.

"Okay Castle, listen. There's a box in the closet. Look in the top, right corner above my leather jackets. When you're ready to know, open the box. Until then, try to refrain from running into things."

"Wait, what's in the box?" his eyes widened. "Kate how'd you ever kno-"

"-Bye Castle, see you at six."

He set his phone down on the desk and made his way to the closet. Clicking on the closet light, he searched inside until his eyes fell on a small black box, with a delicate yellow bow. He reached up and grabbed it, sitting on the bed. Fingers playing at the corners of the box, he carefully started to lift the lid before he suddenly closed it fiercely and put it back in the closet. No.

Beckett was surprised when she got home that evening to find it closed and in the closet.

Every morning, as she made her morning routine, well aware of Castle's eyes on her every move, she checked on the box. Always unopened. She had to admit, she was impressed.

A month and a half later. She was big. Stirring tea in the break room; holding the warm, blue ceramic between her hands. It was a boring case. She was trying to give the boys insight when they asked today, but she was going crazy. She couldn't sit at her desk any longer. She needed to get out; she needed to fight for justice in the way she knew how. But she couldn't. She sighed, ran a tired hand through her hair, making her way back to her chair. She bit her bottom lip, eyes wandering. Just listening to the sounds of the twelve. She cocked her head at the sound of the elevator.

She looked up to see Castle rushing across the precinct, almost tripping over his own feet. Even from a distance, she could see the expression on his face. The tears welling in his eyes; hands gripping tightly on a small black box. Open. Tucking away in between two sheets of tissue paper was a tiny pink dress, white lace on the cuffs and neckline.

"Kate." He breathed out, when he reached her side.

The wild hazel of her eyes turned glassy with tears and she ran to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, rising up on her toes.

"She is going to be so beautiful, Beckett. So beautiful." He whispered into her hair, own words getting caught in his throat.

His hands were trembling behind her hand, still clutching the box.

A girl, a baby girl.

That night and all the nights that followed, Beckett would fall asleep listening to Castle's whispered lullabies.

As they lay together in bed, Castle's arms wrapped protectively around her, he'd listen. Listen for her breathing to even out, the flutter of her eyelids to calm. And he'd reach over, placing his hands on her round belly, whispering to their daughter. It was different every night. Sometimes he'd tell her a bedtime story. Sometimes a story of a writer and a muse. But not tonight.

"She's strong. So strong, sweetheart." He breathed out. "One day you'll realize what kind of woman your mother is. The things she's overcome, the scars that were left behind." His left hand ghosted up her side, gently caressing the faded scar from her surgery so many years ago. "She'll teach you that you can't throw away your future because of your past. She'll be the kind of mother to you that her mother was to her. She will love you like her mother loved her." He gently kissed Beckett's stomach, laying down and shifting at her back.

Kate reached up to swipe her thumb over her cheek, catching the tears that fell. Her heart ached, her breathing becoming rapid. Her hands found the chained ring around the neck. "Mom."