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

A/N This chapter is dedicated with the thanks to the Guest reviewer who is a health-care worker and to the person to whom she/he reads each chapter of this story aloud.

It's late. They're cuddled up in bed, but they're not quite ready to go to sleep.

"I've been thinking, Castle," Beckett says into his bare chest.

"Hmm?"

"You were right."

"Say that again. The second part."

She lifts her head up. "You were right?"

"Yeah. I love it when you say that. It's so sexy."

"You think everything I say in bed is sexy."

"You're right, Beckett."

She laughs, which makes him laugh, which makes her laugh some more.

"You guys are laughing so hard you woke me up. What's so funny?"

"So, anyway, you were right. A while back. About not wanting to call the baby it." She shifts slightly so that she can take his chin softly in her hand. "I still don't want to know if we're having an XX or an XY, so don't get your hopes up, bud. But what if we choose a gender-neutral name? At least something we can use between now and D-Day. We don't have to keep it."

"It's about time, Mom! I don't have to be It or Bump or Plus One any more!"

Castle kisses her softly. "And am I also right when I say that I'm sure you have some ideas?"

"Well, a few. I haven't made a list or anything."

He pushes himself off the pillow and reaches out to his nightstand. "Don't say anything until I get my phone. We need to write these down."

Beckett smiles to herself, tickled that he's so tickled.

"Okay, got it," he says, waving the phone. "You ready? Want to start?"

"Taylor."

"Ooh, no, Beckett. All I can think of is that dash-cam video of the chubby cops singing Taylor Swift's 'Shake It Off.' Remember that? I mean, it was hilarious, but no."

"Okay, smarty pants, your turn."

"I'm not wearing pants at the moment."

"So, smarty pantless, gimme a name."

"How about Reese?"

She snorts. "Let me guess what your inspiration might be for this. Reese's Pieces?"

"I love that one! Choose that one!"

"The candy? Absolutely not. You know I'm an m&m peanuts kind of guy. I just like the name. Your turn."

"Casey."

"As in at the bat? Or Casey Stengel? No baseball references, Beckett."

"I was thinking more of Casey Jones, the heroic railroad man famed in song and story."

"I was thinking more of Casey Jones, the masked vigilante famed in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles."

Beckett tries unsuccessfully to grab his phone. "Let's leave Casey off the list."

"You were the one who suggested it."

"True, but moving on, Castle. Next?"

"Jordan."

"You can't be serious," she says.

"What's the matter with Jordan?"

"What's the matter with Jordan?"

"What's the matter with Jordan? Isn't that funny? Now we all said it! But what is the matter with Jordan? It's kind of nice. Not as nice as Reese, though."

"Very nice name, Beckett."

"Ah, Castle, clearly you are casting your mind back to our halcyon days working with Agent Jordan Shaw, owner of the world's coolest toys.

"Toys! Okay. I think I want to be Jordan instead of Reese."

"Mmm, maybe."

"But Castle, really, Jordan? After all the agony you went through over the Jordan Motor Car Company? The term paper you paid for when you were a kid? Why would you want to be reminded of that?"

"Because now the name Jordan reminds me of your ice-cube trick. The night I told you about the Jordan Motor Car Company is the night you showed me that thing you do with ice cubes. A very, very memorable night."

"A very X-rated night, so not appropriate for our baby's name."

"What if our baby grows up to be a porn star?"

"Castle!" She smacks him lightly on the arm. "Mind out of the gutter, please."

"You're the one with the ice-cube trick."

"Oh, God," she says, dropping her forehead down against his collarbone. "Hey, how about Madison?"

"Nope. I know that that's your little-Castle-babies friend, but all I can think of when I hear Madison is the avenue between Fifth and Park. Don't want my child named after a street. So, maybe Dylan?"

"Drunken Welsh poet who died before he was forty."

"True, but a great poet."

"Okay, a possibility. Put that one on the list. How about another D, Devin?"

"Ooh, Ryan would love that. So Irish. What's your opinion on Jesse?"

"I like it, but I know a lot of Jesses. I'd rather have something less common. What do you think of Kit?"

"Oh, that goes to the top of the list. Kit. Short, easy to remember, but unusual. Nice on the ear. Best of all, it's a subtle reference to Kit Kat bars, which are an integral component of my personal food pyramid."

"Yay, Dad! Call me Kit!"

"Castle?"

"Yes."

"Let's keep thinking. Just not right now."

"Okay." As he turns his head towards her, the T shirts that he had given her a few days ago catch his eye. They're sitting in a neat stack on a chair until she decides where to put them. "Beckett, did you ever notice that the first five letters of mammaries spell Mamma?"

"Can't say that I have, but I'm not surprised that you did."

"You know, I think these shirts will be the gift that keeps on giving. Do you want to wear one now, to get used to it?"

She runs her foot around his calf. "No, I don't want to wear anything now, thank you."

"Perfect answer."

TBC