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

Kate Beckett has known fear. She is on intimate terms with terror. She even experienced death, a sniper's bullet lodged in her chest, before doctors brought her back to life. But never before has she had to struggle with the kind of high-level trepidation that she's experiencing now. She doesn't even know how to categorize it.

She's in the bathroom, already dressed for the day. She's trying to put on a little light makeup, but her hand is shaking so badly that her mascara just brushed across her nose, leaving a feathery brown trail.

Castle comes in with a mug of tea and sets it on the counter next to her. "It's lemon balm. It should help reduce your anxiety."

"Love that one. Lemon, yummy."

"I don't know, Castle. I probably won't even be able to drink it without splashing it all over me."

"Want me to run out and buy you a bib? We could keep it for the baby. Good investment."

Beckett laughs. "Thanks for that."

"Look, Beckett. Kate. You don't have to do it. Really, you don't." He grabs a Kleenex and wipes the smudge from her nose, then holds the mug for her so that she can take a few sips.

"I do have to. And you know what? I bet it will be fun. I bet it will be a great day. And it means so much to her."

"That's true, but still."

"No, Castle, I'm ready. I really am. See? I even managed to get the mascara onto my eyelashes on the fourth try. I am capital R ready." She squares her shoulders and smiles gamely. "I'm ready to go shopping for maternity clothes with your mother."

"Attagirl," he says, throwing an arm around her shoulder and pulling her to his side. They walk to the living room, arriving just as Martha is coming down the stairs.

"Hi, Mother. All set? The car is downstairs waiting for you."

Beckett makes a face. "Castle, we don't need a car."

"Yes, you do. The driver will wait for you at each store. I'm not having you and my mother dragging around all over the city, especially with tons of shopping bags, trying to get cabs."

"I don't want you to spend the money," she says.

"Okay, then I'll take it out of the kid's allowance."

She laughs. "Good luck explaining that to your child six or seven years from now."

"Yeah, good luck explaining that, Dad. Except what's an allowance? It's something I'd want, right?"

"Let him spend the money, darling," Martha says. "It's not as though he doesn't have plenty of it. And believe me, we'll both be extremely grateful for that car after a couple of stops."

When the two women are walking to the elevator, Martha puts her arm through her daughter-in-law's. "I know that this is something that you would have wanted to do with your mother, Katherine, and I'm honored that you agreed to come with me. We may not have exactly the same taste—" Beckett raises a brow, and laughs. "All right, we definitely don't have the same taste, but I know that we're going to find some wonderful things. I'm an actor, you know, and I'm trained to walk in other people's shoes, to dress myself in their clothes, if you will—including today, when I imagine the signature item will be skinny jeans with a bellyband."

"A bellyband? Is that something that's going around me?"

"So you're saying that you're not going to try to talk me into a Martha's coat of many colors? In fuchsia, turquoise and orange?"

They're in the car now, and it's Martha's turn to laugh. She's secretly delighted that they can tease each other over this. "I won't. You have my word. What's our first stop?"

"Great Expectations. The next one is The Waiting Game, followed by Motherlode. Can you believe it? Who thinks up these names? It's embarrassing. But I looked at some of their things online and they looked promising. Almost like, well, regular clothes."

"When I was pregnant with Richard, absolutely everything was appalling. You were supposed to look like a little girl, for God's sake. As though sex hadn't had anything to do with why you needed maternity clothes. There were," she shudders, "bows everywhere, and little ruffles and puffy sleeves. And gingham! It's the only time in my life when I really had a bosom, and everyone wanted me to cover it up."

The car pulls up to the unfortunately named Great Expectations, and they get out. Sure enough, there are any number of things that both Beckett and Martha find acceptable. Even nice. And not at all embarrassing. Beckett tries on five times more things than she buys, but they leave the shop with two tops, two pairs of pants and a jacket, which Martha considers a good start. The Waiting Game yields three more tops, two pairs of skinny jeans, some silky evening pants, and another jacket.

"Do you want to take a breather, dear? I don't want to wear you out."

"I don't know about you Mom, but I'm worn out. All the stuff you keep taking off and putting on and bending over and and zipping and pulling and stretching."

"I'm fine, Martha. I find this oddly, I don't know, exhilarating. Are you all right?"

"Never better, Katherine. Can't keep a gal like me down. Let me take your bags."

They settle into the back seat for a cross-town ride. The traffic is horrendous. "Castle was right. This car was a brilliant idea. I'm not sure I could have faced Motherlode if we'd had to fight for a cab in all this."

It's Motherlode that lives up to its name. Every time Beckett goes into her dressing room with an armful of clothes, Martha is just a few minutes behind with offerings of her own.

"You should try on more dresses, Katherine."

"I don't really wear all that many, Martha."

"Ah, yes, but you're going to be pregnant all the way through summer in New York. And you'll also be a little furnace of your own. These will be a lot cooler than—what you usually wear. Besides, you can show off those gorgeous legs of yours. That reminds me. I'll be right back."

Beckett mumbles something which she hopes sounds appreciative. And when she slips into some of the dresses, she realizes that Martha was right. They will be better in July and August. When she'll be huge. She's just beginning to wonder where Martha is when she hears the knock.

"May I come in?"

"Of course." She looks in horror at the hangers in Martha's hand. "What are those?"

"Bikinis, dear."

"Bikinis? You think I'm going to wear a bikini?"

"Well, you always do at the house in the Hamptons," Martha says.

"But that was before—"Beckett gestures widely over her expanding middle, "this."

"So?"

"So?"

"Do me a favor, and try one on. Just one. I'll wait outside."

Beckett rolls her eyes for the first time that day. "All right."

Martha hears a little rustling and what she thinks is an "oooohhh." She knocks again. "Are you decent in there?"

"Yes, come in." She's standing in front of the mirror in a very simple, dark purple silky bikini. The bottom, with small ties on either side, dips just slightly under her baby bump. The straps of the top tie behind her neck.

Martha beams. "Didn't I tell you? You look glorious. Ravishing. Richard is going to get—"

Now Beckett really blushes, and covers her face. "Stop right there, please." She brings her hands down. "Okay, you talked me into it. And I have to say, it's incredibly comfortable."

They're finally finished, standing at the counter where two saleswomen are wrapping the piles of things they've bought. "I'm glad you proved to be as much of a clothes horse during pregnancy as you are the rest of the time," Martha says, giving Beckett's arm a squeeze.

While they're waiting, Beckett sees a rack of T shirts. "Hang on, I just want to check these." She starts flipping through the jerseys and stops at one. "Okay, I have to get this." She jogs back to the counter. "One more thing. This is really for Castle's benefit. I'll never wear it outside, but at home. What do you think?"

The white T shirt has an enormous red arrow that begins just above the hem and ends with a point about three quarters of the way up. Large red letters over it spell out I'M WITH HER. Martha laughs. "You're right. Richard will love it. Not as much as he's going to love that bathing suit, but he'll love it."

"You should have seen the one I didn't get. It was a nursing shirt, you know, with snaps at the shoulder?"

"Why didn't you buy that? It will be very handy."

"Because it said THANKS FOR THE MAMMARIES, and Castle would make me wear it every single day. All day. Starting now."

The two of them laugh so hard they have to hang on to the counter for support. Beckett finally pulls herself together. "I think I'm done for the day, Martha."

"Me, too, darling. Why don't we get some tea?"

While the driver begins to arrange a staggering amount of shopping bags in the trunk, the women duck into the cafe next door. Before they sit down, Beckett pulls her mother-in-law in for a long hug. "I couldn't have done it without you, Martha. You were amaze balls."

"Really, darling? Thank you. And we did well, didn't we? I think you have enough clothes to take you all the way through, don't you?"

"I can't believe it, but I do."

"You got a ton of clothes, Mom, huh? I'm glad. But you know what? I'M STILL NAKED IN HERE!"

TBC