Disclaimer: The only part of Castle that I own is the TV on which I watch the show.

"I still can't believe they did it," Castle says from the edge of the bed, where he's putting on his socks. "I mean, who even knew they were dating? It's not like they had to hide it the way we did, since he's not on the job anymore."

"I'd probably have known if she had stayed at the Twelfth," Beckett says from the closet, where she is trying to settle on which shoes to wear. "I haven't seen much of her since she transferred to the Eighty-Eighth in Brooklyn. It's really nice that they're having this post-wedding party just for their cop friends."

"Where's the invitation, anyway? I never looked at it."

"Right there, on my night stand."

Castle reaches over and picks up the card. "You know, it's kind of dopily funny. 'Round up the usual suspects and put out an APB! Roselyn Karpowski and Grant 'Sully' Sullivan have tied the knot. Please join us for a cops rock celebration on Saturday, June 11, from 7 p.m. until no one is left standing. Hooligan's Hat, 1234 Flatbush Avenue, Brooklyn. Check your guns at the door.' " He glances up at her. "So, Beckett, you packin' heat? I want to see you check your gun at the door."

"This is a party for a wedding? Does that mean we get cake?"

She gives him a look. "No, Castle, the only heat I'm packing is this little furnace." She pats her belly. "And it goes with me everywhere. No checking it at the door."

"Whoa, you mean me? I'm not a furnace, Mom, I'm a baby."

"You ready to roll?"

"Yup."

They're taking a car service since Castle doesn't want to hold back on the booze and Beckett doesn't want to drive home if they stay very late. "You know, I always thought that Sully was the perfect nickname for him because he's such slob," Castle says as they move across the Brooklyn Bridge. "It's weird to think of him in a suit and tie and polished shoes now that he works for that security firm."

"A great guy, but a total slob. God, do you remember what he did to my desk?" She's laughs at the mental image. "It was like an archaeological dig and he was only there for a few months. I found a corned beef sandwich under some DD-fives that was at least six weeks old. I think penicillin was growing on it."

When they pull up to Hooligan's they can hear the noise before they're even out of the car. " 'Cops Gone Wild,' huh, Beckett?" Castle asks, taking her hand.

"Maybe," she says. "But I'm not dropping my top, big boy. At least not here."

"Dropping your top? MOM! I don't know if I can blush, but if I can, I am."

They walk into the old wood-paneled bar which has been brightened up with dozens of blue and white balloons. There are life-size cutouts of the bride and groom from the time they were rookies, with which many guests—some well on the road to blitzdom—are posing to take selfies. "Crazy in Love" is blasting from speakers. "Let's find the newlyweds," Beckett says.

Find them they do, dressed in blue suits and handcuffed to each other. "You'll have to hug us together," Karpowski says. "Can I say that your wedding present was the greatest ever? The personal organizer? Especially with this lug." She looks besottedly at Sully, who returns her soppy grin. "She came out for a whole week. Looks like Martha freakin' Stewart fixed our place."

"Don't forget it's a five-year plan," Castle says. "You can call her anytime until 2020, in case Sully reverts to his disorganized ways."

"You both look great," Beckett says. "Party does, too. We're gonna go get some food before the freeloaders really get in there. See you later."

As they make their way to the buffet table, she leans towards Castle. "Did you see that Sully already has mustard on his shirt? Maybe we should give them a five-year dry-cleaning gift card, too."

Castle is almost delirious when he sees the food, including the mustard. There are half a dozen kinds of pierogi, herring, pickled cucumber salad, beetroot and horseradish salad, cheeses, baskets of breads and ten different Irish beers. He loads up his plate and midway through his third pierogi says, "This is a great combo, Beckett. An Irish venue and Polish food. We should have thought of it for our wedding."

"Except neither of us is Irish or Polish, Castle, and there were only six of us there." She happens to glance in the direction of the bride and groom and sees Esposito huddling with them. She also happens to notice two things transpire, furtively and almost simultaneously: Karpowski looking directly at Beckett's waistline—or what used to be her waistline—and then handing a wad of cash to Espo, who nods and pockets it. "Castle," she hisses. "Did you see that?"

"What?" he asks, failing to keep a bit of herring from sliding down his chin.

"Karpowski and Espo. And don't look at them!" She glares. "She was sizing up my belly and then she gave Espo some money."

"So?"

"What so? She's obviously betting on the baby. There's a baby pool."

"There's a baby pool? I don't need one of those. I swim around in here just fine. It's my own private pool."

"Of course there is. I told you that ages ago, after the second sonogram."

"No, you said, 'There has to be a pool,' not, 'There is a pool.' Big difference, Castle."

"I think it's mostly semantic," he says, reaching for some cheese.

"Yeah, well, I hate it."

"Why? Everyone bet on us for years, when we'd finally do the nasty."

"So romantically put, Castle, especially here at a wedding party. And besides, that was different."

"How was it different?"

"Because it was a bet on the two of us. Now it's everyone staring at me, not you and me. All the time. Wandering by my desk to check me out. I feel like a freak show."

Castle turns to face her. "You're not a freak show." He leans in and kisses her. "You're way too beautiful to be a freak show." He pulls back, then kisses her again.

"Dad, what are you eating? Get Mom to have some of that."

"Okay, okay. You know what?" She smiles at Castle. "Maybe I should bet. I could get LT to do it for me, split the kitty with him."

"Kitty? We're getting a pet?"

"I love it when you're devious, Beckett." He tilts his head. "Hear that?"

"What?"

"The music. Our song. Would you like to dance?"

"That's not our song, Castle, nothing like it."

"It's our new song. Come here." He takes her hand, steers her onto the dance floor, and pulls her close against him. "It's that great Dave Matthews Band song 'American Baby.' Because that's what we've got here, right between us. An American baby."

"Dad, ouch. You're holding Mom and me too tight. Keep doing that and I'm going to have to kick. Hard."

TBC

A/N I love hearing from you!