Disclaimer: Nope.

A/N: Random short quick Saturday Smut. In the Cub'verse. Enjoy.

She's still looking at it. The newest photo of the baby growing inside her womb. The one they created and maybe it's just the thought of it being half of him and half of her. A perfect mix. Or maybe it's the memory of how their little one - the blurry black and white baby with little arms and legs - came to be that has her cheeks warming. A heat settling in her bones as she shifts in the passenger seat. It's also just this car. The rev of the engine, the way it rides. She loves cars, loves his car. This beautiful Ferrari with the horsepower and the purring beneath the hood. She puts a stop to her car related brain ramble. Calming herself.

They made a baby. Something precious and new. She's always loved kids, always dreamed that maybe one day she'd eventually have one of her own but it's always been just that - a dream. Now it's real. There's a baby relying on her, needing her. Castle's baby. It always hits her at the weirdest times. Eating a sandwich with him for lunch and suddenly she's staring at him, marveling in the fact that they're doing this. Showering with him this morning and him insisting they start their own sing along which quickly escalated to some weird form of shower do's and don'ts. And in the middle of his chorus which was just a tad off key due to her hand pinching his ass, she found herself smiling. Wondering how on earth they ever made it to this point.

And now it's hitting her again. Because thinking of those moments, thinking of how they make love, how that love transpired into something bigger. Something the size of their growing baby. It knocks the air from her lungs. Has her body reacting to the very man who did this - the man who got her pregnant.

And maybe this time it's just too much for her because she's now sporting a bump. Proof that their child is growing. And he's so sweet, coming to the appointments, making sure she feels okay, always holding her hand. He's just here for her. Always. It's hot. It's really really hot. Perhaps not so much when she's cranky and tired and doesn't want to be touched but at the moment, all she wants is his touch. The feel of him against her skin. His lips on hers, silk and delicious.

It has her tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, holding it captive as she remembers the playful kiss he smacked against her mouth between the bridge and chorus of his shower sing along. That was the last taste she's had. She really wants more and why is it taking so damn long to get back to her apartment?

She's impatient when it comes to him. Especially with her hormones raging. She's contemplating asking him to pull over - into a parking garage or an alley. But she doesn't. Because she's clutching at a small shred of control.

It has her running her fingers over the small swell housing their baby. Trying to ignore the man next to her but he makes it difficult. She can feel his eyes on her when the car slows to a stop at a red light. She can't get enough of him. She's never really reached the point where she just doesn't want to have him. But something about right now when his eyes are caressing over her, his hand reaching to stroke over her stomach, it blows everything out of proportion. Blood rushing through her ears, draining, heading south as she tangles their hands, looks over at him with a smile.

Her thoughts become fragments. Nothing coherently forming other than how good and warm his fingers feel when he slides them over the bump their baby has caused. He's not paying attention to her anymore, just the road in his view but she's more aware of him now than when his eyes caught with hers. The blue curious and warm and now focused. Intent on getting them home and yes, that's exactly where she wants to go right now.

Somewhere that isn't public.

He isn't even touching her - not really, nothing more than his palm on her abdomen - but it's enough to have her buzzing, a tangle of moist fire settling between her thighs. She's watching him now, the curve of his jaw, the flex of it when someone in front of them makes a move he doesn't like, the frown that forms and the slope of his nose. She's traced every inch of him with her fingers, knows exactly how he'll react if she stretches across the console and places her lips just beneath his ear like she desperately wants to.

His thumb slips, brushing over the button of her jeans and a soft whine sneaks out before she can stop it. Just a quiet gasp of a thing but it might as well be a gunshot between them. Has his eyes darting over to her.

"You feelin' okay?"

"Yeah." He nods, his foot pressing the gas and making the car ease forward just a little faster. He clearly doesn't get it. Doesn't catch the breathy tone or the shift of her thighs. Fuck it. She's done trying.

The second he tries to pull his hand back, she's grabbing his wrist - fingers wrapped around - and she feels him tense. Feels his muscles tighten as she gives up all pretense of getting home before making it known just how much her thoughts and his simple actions have turned her on. It's really not her fault that he's being such a 'dad' to their unborn child and it really just does it for her. Makes her body pulse in anticipation.

"Kate wha -" And honestly he shouldn't be so surprised when she snaps the button on her pants, pushing against his hand until he's giving in, sliding beneath the fabric because it's not as if this is the first time they've ever sexually ventured outside of their homes.

But it is the first time she's instigating by practically shoving his hand down her pants, letting her head drop back against the seat as soon as she feels his warm thick fingers against her. The feel of the car swerving and a horn honking do absolutely nothing to deter her from rolling her hips.

"Jesus, Beckett!" He's trying to pull back, but she's clamping her thighs, making him stay, keeping his fingers against her folds for at least another minute. And he's groaning, something of pleasure and frustration that has her eyes opening, lips parting.

"Castle, I just need -"

"Pretty sure I can feel what you need." And she knows he isn't joking but she's not embarrassed by how easily his fingers slide against her, through her. Or the moan that floats out when he pushes the heel of his hand against her clit, rubbing just right completely on accident. He's still trying to wiggle free and it's doing nothing but push her closer to the edge. Tightening the coil in her belly. "Kate, I'm trying to drive...if you want to make it to the - will you please stop with -"

She doesn't, she thrusts her hips into his palm. Not even caring about being in traffic or the fact that she's making this drive uncomfortable for him. If the way he's shifting and the bulge forming in his lap are anything to go by. She doesn't care. She just wants this. And really it's all his fault anyway.

"Don't take your eyes off the road and do not wreck this car." And that's the last coherent sentence from her mouth as she lets go of his wrist, knowing he's finally just as into this right now as she is.

He doesn't pull back. Even though she knows her zipper is digging into his skin with every stroke of his fingers. She knows that his hand is probably cramping from the angle but she'll make it up to him later. With one hand gripping the door and the other resting on her stomach, she lets her hips twitch, doesn't stop herself from closing her eyes, biting into her lip.

Praying they don't get pulled over because she knows she isn't doing a very good job of hiding exactly what's going on - the fact that she's riding his hand in the front of his Ferrari. She doesn't have free range but taking this particular vehicle was her idea and she doesn't regret it. This car makes her hot. He makes her hot. The fact that she's having his baby makes her hot.

And ultimately it isn't a surprise that her body quivers, his fingers sliding through the molten lava gathering between her thighs, curling up as his palm presses down and she's keening. A whine tearing from her throat, a jerk of her hips when he does it again and she clutches his arm, leaning forward to brace herself.

She can feel it coming, the burst that builds, the warmth intensifying, becoming a hot pulse of muscles rippling under his touch. The slick slide of hist digits against her core. The shudder it elicits and the muffled moan.

"Almost there, Kate." He's breathless, aroused and probably a bit amazed that she's really grinding down on his hand, shamelessly, in the middle of the day as if no one will notice. Her ears flush, burning, cheeks pink and heat spreading down her chest. She's definitely almost there. Though maybe he's talking about home...

She doesn't give a fuck. Doesn't care at all because he's pushing up inside of her, coaxing her along and when he groans out something about his hand cramping while stroking hard and fast, her legs are clamping tight, muscles locking, hips halting their rhythm as she comes.

Both are silent, his fingers wiggling, making her whimper as she drops back into the seat. A long breath leaves her lungs, pushing the hair sticking to the corner of her mouth away. He's panting next to her, eyes still on the road when she finally looks at him but they're wide, almost blackened by his arousal and she feels a pang of sympathy.

His palm brushes against her, makes her jerk back as if he's suddenly boiling to the touch and she clamps her thighs harder, makes him stop.

"Kate, you're crushing my fingers." His voice is tight, uncomfortable and she quickly relaxes, parts her legs. He pulls away, his hand leaving the confinement of her pants, the cramped space he managed to work with.

He's a good sport. An excellent partner. A lovable, sexy, writer. Hers. And so incredibly good with those hands. There's nothing to say, so she stays quiet, leans over to press her lips against his neck, her tongue poking out to briefly taste the sweat forming on his skin. Just enough to have him shivering before she's pulling back, fixing her pants and making sure her shirt is once again covering their baby bump. Theirs.

"I really love this car."

"The car? That's what gets you so we-" She cuts him off with a raising of an eyebrow, words rushing out in a seductive whisper. The one she knows drives him up the wall.

"Don't finish that sentence. Just get us to my place." The smirk that forms says everything he didn't and she really doesn't want to think about what's in store for her when she stumbles with him through the door.

She can't because her eyes are locking on his hand, a little embarrassed now that it's over with. Shocked she let herself get that carried away but it was so worth it. And when they do make it through her door, a tangle of limbs, lips, and tongues, she knows before he ever tugs her shirt over her head that they won't be making it any further than the entryway floor before he's pushing into her, hips meeting with every thrust as she buries her face in his neck. She lets him rule this round since she took point in the car. They won't make it to the bed and that's okay because as soon as he's easing her down, she's already arching into him and once again not giving a damn about location.

a/n: This just somehow popped into my head today.