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

It's 12:30 a.m. Ten minutes ago Beckett, who had been reading in bed next to her virtually unconscious husband, had closed her book, turned off the light, slid down from her upright position, and rolled onto her side. Now she can't sleep. "Castle?" Her voice is a whisper. "Are you awake?"

Apparently not. She raises her voice a little. "Castle?" He looks like a sarcophagus, flat on his back, arms resting just below his rib cage, one hand over the other. If she put a crown on his head and a sword on his chest, he'd look like a dead medieval king. "Castle!" Still nothing. The man sleeps as though he has been drugged and then hit over the head with a rock. She runs her foot alluringly along his calf. Nope.

There are two ways of waking him up when he's out like this: one is X-rated, the other, G-. Much as she loves the former, she's too tired for it at the moment—although, who knows? Maybe he'll change her mind. It wouldn't take much. No, at least for now she's going for the latter. She starts to hum a tune, right against his bicep. He wiggles only slightly. She raises her lips so that they're just below his ear, and advances from hum to lyric: "I Get a Kick out of You."

His eyes open wide. "Beckett?" He turns his head sharply to the right and finds her inches away. "You're singing."

Her smile is wide. "I am. Was."

"Any reason for this serenade?"

"You mean in general, or specifically?"

He loves it when she's like this. "Both."

"In general, to wake you up. The song was a specific choice."

" 'I Get a Kick Out of You.' It's true, I always get a kick out of you."

She brushes his hair off his forehead, then takes his hand and pulls it onto her belly. "Yeah, well, feel that? The baby has been kicking like crazy ever since I went from sitting up to lying down. 's keeping me awake."

"Mom, I was really happy where you were before and then you went and moved. It takes me a while to get comfy, you know."

Castle moves onto his side so that they're pressed as closely as they can be. "Wow! He could be a football star with that kick."

"She could be a soccer star with that kick."

"Oh, soccer player, much better. Boy or girl. Don't have all those shoulder pads, the helmets, the concussions."

"We could name her Mia, after Mia Hamm. She was my hero when I was in high school. Still is. One of the greatest athletes ever."

"Oh, yeah, and she's gorgeous. She married that Red Sox shortstop, Garciaparra. If it's a boy, we could—"

"Castle, I'm not naming a boy Nomar."

"If we're going with soccer stars, I'd rather name her Brandi. For Brandi Chastain, the one who took her shirt off after she won the penalty shootout in the 1999 World Cup."

"Imagine your remembering that, Castle."

"Tearing her shirt off, glistening with sweat? Running around in her sports bra? Hard to forget, Beckett."

"I was actually referring to her winning penalty shot. Against China."

"Oh, yeah. That."

"The baby's quieted down. Think I can go to sleep now." She yawns and stretches.

"Good. So we have Mia or Brandi for a girl, just need to find a boy's name."

"Not Pele, Castle, sorry."

"How about—"

"Not Messi, either. That can be Sully and Karpowski's kid."

Castle laughs. "Okay, I'll keep thinking."

"Night."

"Night."

"Night. Geez, I thought you guys would never stop talking."

It's seven hours later. "Don't get up," Castle says.

"Mfwh gna."

"Stay there, Beckett. I'm bringing you breakfast."

"K gdd."

She hears the thump of a tray being deposited on the table, and then feels a dip in the bed. It's Castle's knee, followed by the rest of him. "Morning, Beckett."

"Morning. Lemme sit up."

"Have to say good morning to the baby. It's gonna love this. Wait." He pushes up her jersey until a wide band of her stomach is exposed, then presses his mouth against it and blows a raspberry right at her navel. "Ow!" he yelps. "Ow! Kicked me right in the nose."

"Serves you right, Dad. That is a gross noise. Plus it woke me up."

Beckett's laughing. "You should see your face."

"Well, it hurt."

"Oh, c'mon, you big baby."

"What, is Dad a baby, too? I thought I was the only baby."

"Okay, okay. I'm gonna get the plates. Made us waffles."

"Yippee, Dad, you choose much better breakfasts than Mom. Sorry I kicked you before."

She's propped up against the headboard and takes the plate that he's offering her. "Thank you. This looks great, Castle. Mmm, blueberries on top."

Castle settles in next to her and is about to dig in when Beckett leans over and grabs the edge of his plate.

"Just a minute, mister. What is that?"

His fork is suspended, midair. "A waffle."

"A waffle? How can you find it under the gallon of chocolate sauce and the cup of whipped cream?"

"Mom. Please trade plates with Dad."

"It's there, Beckett. It is the foundation from which the delicate architecture of my breakfast rises."

"Nothing delicate about that, but all right, Frank Gehry. I'm sticking with blueberries."

"Besides, I need strength for the experiments I'm going to do when we're finished."

Now her fork stops midair. "Experiments?" She sounds more than mildly apprehensive, like someone trying to swim ashore during a sudden electrical storm.

"Yup. Eat up, you'll see."

"I'm not sure if I should eat more slowly, to delay this scientific plan—is it scientific?—as long as possible, or eat as fast as I can and find out what the hell you're going to do."

"Nothing scary about it."

They settle on a normal pace. When they finish, Castle stacks everything on a tray and takes it to the kitchen. "Stay in bed. I'll be right back."

When he returns, carrying a small bag, Beckett says, "You're sure I'm not supposed to be nervous?"

"Absolutely not. Consider me the magician; you are the beautiful assistant."

"What do I get to be?"

"Where's your top hat?"

"Oh, I want a top hat, too. I'd finally have something to wear."

"Oh! You're right! Hang on a second." He tears through the door to his office; she can hear him rummaging through a closet.

She puts her head in her hands. "You have a hat, am I right? And a cane?"

"Of course," he says, standing proudly in the door way with both. "Ta da!"

"How come you're a magician? I thought you said you were going to be doing experiments, which to me implies science. Mad scientist, maybe."

"Something in between, but I like the accoutrements of the magician. That and mad scientists don't usually have beautiful assistants. So, are you ready?"

"I guess. What am I supposed to do?"

"Sit just the way you are, but push your legs out straight." She does. "Good. Okay." He looks into the bag and pulls out a paper clip. "I'm just going to put this on your stomach."

"I know I'm the mere assistant, but may I ask why?"

"You may, especially since you are the mother-in-making. I was so impressed by the kicking prowess of our offspring last night that I thought I'd see what it could kick off you. You know, so we could assess the strength. Here comes the paperclip."

"I can barely feel it, Castle." She looks at it. Not moving. "Don't think the baby can, either. It's probably too light. Try something else."

Oh, she's getting into this already. He won't say anything, but he's excited. He knew he could count on her competitive spirit. "Okay, I just wanted to start small. How about this?" He holds up a silver cufflink.

"Only one? Maybe you should try a pair?"

"Excellent point. I'll go get the other one." He walks to his chest of drawers, opens the box that holds all his cufflinks, and gets the mate of the one in his hand. When he arrives at the bed, he fasten the cufflinks together and positions them on Beckett's stomach. Nothing happens. Not a ripple.

"You know what? I'm going to make you wait, Mom and Dad. Ha!"

"You know what, Castle? Maybe we need something that kind of drapes over me. Has a bigger surface."

"Like this?" Castle is holding up a sheet of paper.

"Yeah, that's good. Try that. Here, let me put in on."

"Okay, Mom. Watch this!"

The paper bumps upward and slides off Beckett's belly.

"Way to go!" Caskett and Beckett shout as one.

"What's next?" Beckett asks, eyes sparkling.

Castle looks into the bag, brings out an Oreo and grips it between his thumb and index finger. "This?"

"Might have known you'd have a cookie in there, Castle." She chuckles and points at her stomach. "Put it right there."

"A cookie? This is going to be a good one."

The Oreo is suddenly airborne, and lands on the sheet next to Beckett. She and Castle whoop. "One more, one more!" she says.

"I saved the best for last," he says, pulling two small objects from the bag. "Action figures that represent you and me, Elektra and Batman. Which one should I try first?"

"Are you serious? Neither. Those two are going together. Partners."

"I love your thinking, Beckett." He sits down next to her and carefully sets up the two figures.

"Mom? Dad? Goooooaaaalllll!"

Batman and Elektra take flight and crash land between the magician and the assistant, who clap wildly and high-five each other.

"Time for me to get up, Castle, but that was fantastic. I think we have our little Mia."

"Or our little Brandi. Or our male player to be named later."

"To be named later, if I'm a boy? I shoulda known."

TBC

A/N Thank you for your enthusiasm for this story. Stay in touch!