Pure Fluff
"Thank you! Daddy, I love you! Thank you!"
Alexis is a whirling dervish. She's jumping up and down, spinning in circles like she can't contain her excitement. She kisses her dad's cheek, runs around the bar to where Kate sits on a stool holding Elena.
"Mom! Thank you!"
She cants in for an awkward hug, not wanting to crush the baby, and then leans down to pinch a set of chubby smiling cheeks.
"And you," Alexis uses her best baby voice, kisses the gaping toothless mouth with flourish, being sure to make as much noise at possible, "I told you your big sister wasn't going to leave you."
Alexis pulls back continuing to talk directly to Elena who is completely enthralled by the chatter.
The infant watches the teenager with wide-eyed enchantment. Kate thinks it must have something to do with the red hair, because both babies watch Martha the same exact way; mouths cavernous but still somehow curled up at the corners, fisted hands reaching out slightly with wriggling fingers as if yearning to get a fistful of the fiery locks, and feet kicking in delight.
Alexis pauses, waits with anticipation like she's expecting something. When she doesn't get it she dips back in for another quick sloppy kiss, pulls back with shiny cheeks that make Kate laugh. The sudden movement at the baby's back finally does it.
Elena laughs.
It's short; one note actually, much like Kate's but deeper, huskier, and somehow still nasally.
Rick turns from the sink; he'd been in the middle of cooking dinner when Alexis and Shelby had timidly asked to have a chat with them. His eyes fall to his middle daughter and Kate sees his Adam's apple bob slowly in his throat. His eyes pool with moisture and she thinks he might cry.
Yeah she might too.
Because that's a sound neither one of them has ever heard from their baby.
Kate wants to hear it again and again and again.
"Oh, you think I'm funny, huh?"
Alexis, completely unaware that their world was just rocked, lifts the baby from Kate's arms, raises her in the air, and spins around before sauntering to the living room leaving both of her parents completely reeling.
Kate pauses halfway down the stairs, takes a few cleansing breaths, wipes away the tears with the back of her hand before descending the remaining steps.
She sees him as soon as her bare feet hit the hardwood. He's at the sink, where it seems he's been most of the evening. His head is dipped slightly as he works away diligently. His grey tee-shirt stretches tightly across his broad back and all she wants is to surround herself with him; the feel of him, his scent, his voice.
He doesn't even startle when she wraps her arms around him from behind, just briefly touches a wet hand to hers where they've settled low on his stomach. She nuzzles into his back; the tee-shirt is soft against her face and smells of fabric softener and him.
Castle.
She inhales deeply; memorizing the moment, making a memory.
She finds herself doing that a lot lately. It's something she read about in one of those baby magazines that started coming as soon as she found out she was pregnant. Rick says he never subscribed to any of them, but nonetheless they show up in the mail every few weeks.
The article explained how smell is linked to memory, how it can evoke moments in your life; bring them to the forefront of your mind. Since reading it she's found herself lightheaded on more than one occasion from inhaling the wondrous scent of her babies, her husband, even Alexis.
"They asleep?"
"Mmm-hmm."
"Took longer than normal?"
"Uh-uh."
Rick chuckles; the sound sends tingles of pleasure through her entire body.
"Just took Momma a little longer to let go of them tonight?"
He forms the sentence like a question but he already knows the answer. Kate rubs her face back and forth between his shoulder blades; the grey cotton darkening with her last few remaining tears. She squeezes him tighter, slips her hands into the front pockets of his worn-out jeans.
"Might take me a little longer to let go of this tonight too." She lightly scrapes her fingernails along the sensitive skin just on the inside of his hipbones.
"Whoa!"
It gets him every time.
Rick's hips jerk involuntarily and he drops a half-full bottle into the sink. Her knuckles sting from being smashed into the hard granite. Still, Kate can't help but snicker into his back while she waits for his sudden panting to subside. He's bracing himself with one hand on the countertop; the other is still holding a bag of semi-frozen breast milk.
"Two minutes, Kate. Give me two minutes to finish this up and I'm all yours."
Kate rotates around his body, settles at his side, doesn't loosen her grip on him, just watches as he works.
He's prepared two baby bottles of water and is finishing up on the last of six bottles of breast milk.
It surprises her a little.
Not the water; he makes two of those every night, has for the last few weeks. The girls sleep about seven hours a night now. Kate nurses them and puts them to bed by eleven and they usually don't make a peep until around six the next morning. If by chance they do stir, a few sips of plain warm water and the distinct lack of their mommy to nuzzle against are enough to remind them that it wasn't worth waking up for in the first place. They usually drop back into dreamland without a fight.
"Done!"
Rick screws on the last lid, wipes each bottle down with a dishtowel, then twists to raise his right arm up and around Kate's shoulders. She shimmies the rest of the way around him, still holding on like a koala in a palm tree. She wedges herself between him and countertop, his large body pressing her up onto the lip of the sink. Her thighs fall open, knees bracketing his hips, her ankles hooking at the back of his calves; just where she wants him.
His hands skate down her spine, stopping to let his fingers knead beneath the stretchy material of her pajama pants. He rests his head on her shoulder, his lips gently sucking on the muscle at the base of her neck.
"You're a good daddy." She's not sure why she says it; she just suddenly needs him to know.
"No, just a selfish one." He nods in the direction of the bottles. "It'll be a tough day for the three of us tomorrow, figured I'd get everything ready tonight. Less time in the kitchen means more time with them."
Kate cups his cheeks, lifts his head so she can see his eyes. "What about Alexis?"
His eyes crinkle up at the corners and his mouth broadens into a beautiful smile at just the thought of his oldest girl.
The same girl that just this evening dropped a bomb on them. She wants to change schools, says she can't go back to Stanford, can't leave her sisters. She's decided to switch to Columbia. And even though there are only three weeks left before the semester starts, and he's not really sure the tuition is refundable at this point, and late enrollment at Columbia may be almost impossible to achieve, he doesn't care.
His baby is staying in New York.
"Purely selfish on that one too, Kate."
"And Shelby?"
Okay, so maybe helping Alexis' friend transfer schools too isn't really his responsibility, but it feels like a small price to pay to have his daughter close. Besides, Shelby's scholarships should still cover most of her tuition. He's just covering any late enrollment penalties she may incur as well as buying her books and supplies. The co-eds had already checked into the dormitory situation and there is no way they can get a place at the university this semester. So room and board are covered; they're staying right here at the loft.
"Two babysitters at my beck-and-call."
He holds two fingers up then tweaks her nose between bent knuckles, follows it with a kiss.
"You got it all figured out, huh?"
Rick nods his head, flashes that too-smug smile of his, but she sees it; sees him. He's brimming with joy, with pride, with love. This man loves his family, can't get enough of them, and wants to spend every moment of every day making them happy.
Kate smoothes her hands down his chest, buries her face in his neck, tucks herself into him much like their babies do.
She takes in some of his strength, steels herself for what tomorrow will bring.
"I couldn't do this with anyone else. You know that right?"
He hugs her tighter, his arms wrapped from shoulder to shoulder, almost crushing, but somehow comforting.
"Yeah you could've." He drops a kiss to the crown of her head. "I'm pretty sure the kids would've been nowhere near as adorable, might've been a little dim too, but still…"
"Hey," Kate manages to jab him in the gut with a tightly balled fist, "those are my hypothetical kids you're talking about!"
"Don't move."
Kate can barely get the words out, she's still panting, still floating. What he does to her; it's like an out-of-body experience.
"Too heavy."
He's panting too, and yeah, he's heavy and naked and sweaty and completely crushing her into the mattress, but she doesn't want him to move. Not yet. Not while her body is still singing with the feel of him around her, over her, in her. She's not ready for the loss, the emptiness; the way her stomach drops when he pulls out, breaking their connection.
"I need you." She breathes it into his ear, tries not to sound needy, but doesn't really care when she fails.
He huffs out a tired chuckle, shifts slightly trying to roll off but her grip is too tight; she just goes with him, ends up sprawled across body.
"What you need is sleep. No more talk. No more sex."
"But those are your two favorite things." She teases with words and with a roll of her hips against his.
"Woman!"
His fingers dig into her ass holding her still as he growls teasingly, but she can feel the sudden change in his breathing; can tell she's affected him.
"My favorite thing is knowing that my wife isn't too tired to focus on her dangerous job, and that she's going to come home to me safe and in one piece."
He reaches around blindly with one hand until he finds the sheet. He pulls it up over them both. The cool cotton falls softly over her damp skin.
She raises up, props her chin on her hands at his chest, she watches him in the darkness, listens to him breathe. Lets the rise and fall of his chest lull her.
"You want to know what my favorite thing is?"
"Hmm?"
"My favorite thing is you," she whispers into the skin over his heart; she's barely able to keep her head up, "my beautiful, selfless, wonderful man. My favorite thing is you."
"Mmm-hmm," he's drifting off too, so tired, "me and that honk-like sound our amazing daughter passed off as a laugh this evening."
"Yeah, that too."