A/N: Based on a pic prompt from Jessie (which is the cover) and a scream for ALL THE BABIES. This is unashamed fluff.

The wind whistles through the trees, latent breezes tied up in high branches, twisting and cracking lazy and drawing an end of Fall calm around them. It's warm here in the shade, but with the cool air lifting the heat just enough that she's comfortable, Kate finds she doesn't mind the thin trickle of sweat that runs down her back.

It's the layers. All five of them bundled up against a chill that dissipated the moment the rain stopped, leaving her not so little family tugging at bobble hats and mittens.

But the air smells sweet, coming at her in soft gusts. And she loses herself in the rustle it creates, a tickle at the crispy leaves high above her head. The sound draws his attention up and away from her, lashes fluttering happily with each half hearted blink.

The movement through the trees is mesmerizing and she smiles watching him, laughing when his eyes scrunch and he grunts in annoyance.

"You're okay." Kate tells him, lowering a gentle hand to shield him from the glare of sun, touching his face until it passes.

She insisted long before any of them were born she wouldn't coo, she's not an owl, why would she? But there is a distinct lack of caring about the mother hen sound that she emits, low and soft under her breath. It's one she picked up from their father early on, one that comes so easily now, soothing them as much as their children.

Kate rubs a finger over his cheek, smudges the edge of his mouth to keep him focused and smiles when his brow wrinkles. He's not happy she's blocking his view, but his wayward thoughts and rebellious ways will have to wait a while.

She laughs down at their boy and nudges him back with her thumb, "No time to daydream," she hums, stroking his ear so his cheek curls up into something he's too little for. She'll call it a smile nonetheless. "Just sleep, buddy."

He's only a few weeks old and already her son has so many nicknames, so many people in his life calling him something different, something special just to them, that she wonders if it is a family trait to go by strange monikers. She's still Beckett most days and he'll always be Castle. Rick and Kate in stolen, serious and sweet interludes. Katherine, Katie and now Mama, Mommy and Mom. It's life, she thinks, stroking soft patterns over his tiny cheek, opening them up to the many possibilities encapsulated in each identity.

And she'd think they were lucky if she didn't know better. Luck had nothing to do with it. Timing maybe, hard work and love definitely.

She likes to joke she has three and a half children, sharing his eldest but never once counting Castle among them. In fatherhood she's found another layer to him, one she had only witnessed from afar until their kids were born. It's hard to think he could have become more to her when he was already so much.

So not luck, but fate?

Maybe?

She'll allow a whisper of the word, in the quiet dawn hours, when he won't goad and tease. When blue eyes a shade darker than their sons will find her and keep her secrets safe.

They did pretty well all in all, nothing too outlandish and nothing too by the book. Their kids each got something unique and special to them when they were named. And shockingly no threats of death were needed to steer him clear of the crazy.

She likes his name, her son, a touch of her father and a flare of Castle's mother, her idea, though when she'd suggested it Castle had chosen to misunderstand and spend the day humming to her stomach, in dulcet country tones, about a boy named Martha.

"Daddy's silly," she muses with a wayward smile cast in the direction of the monkey bars. "He's swinging your sister but the only one making monkey noises is him." She looks down at their son half expecting to find him asleep, but she catches his eyes and his lips pop apart, holding her gaze in surprise. Little face open to her words, as though listening to her story.

"Hi," she grins, "you doing okay? First time in the park is a big deal, but I think you're doing okay." His feet kick and his cheeks go up in that too little to smile smile she adores.

Too much like his daddy for his own good.

"He's not smiling."

Her eyes roll at Castle's voice and Kate turns her head bringing the baby up to her shoulder so he can see his daddy.

"You said that with the first two."

Somehow it's an argument she never wins.

"It's gas."

"Yeah, ya said that too," she grumps, more for her sons hearing than her husbands. There's a familiarity to the moment, camaraderie tied up in their child's hearing as they play off of one another, that takes her back to the start. Back to grown up 'kids' bouncing off mom and dad's craziness, Espo and Ryan taking sides.

When Castle drops down on the bench next to them he catches the softness of her smile and gives it back, bobbing his head too. He leans in to run a hand over her shoulder, up to the boys head where it grazes her cheek. The baby's body goes stiff at the closeness of his father before giving up a head to toe shudder and letting out an excited squeak.

Kate feels like telling him she's been there, knows daddy smells good and gives great cuddles, instead she watches Castle gaze at the baby almost wistfully.

"You should take him," she grins, bridging the distance and placing their son in his arms without giving him a choice.

"You're sure? You look so comfy," he checks, but he's already adjusting, reaching for the boy, settling him into the safety of his arms. "Were you comfy with mama, Spud?"

Kate groans and he laughs, mischievous eyes darting to observe. It's vegetable week and she'd think Spud is so far the best of a bad bunch, if she were keeping track, which she's really really not. But, seriously, so many names her kid's going to answer to anything.

"Yeah, I'm good," Kate sighs, "I've got some pent up energy I'm gonna exhaust -" she lets it hang there, holds his eyes until it sinks in, and he's looking up with interest, "- running around with the girls."

She can't help but laugh when he groans, tongue poking through her teeth and hands gripping her knees.

"Save some of that for later," it's a tease, warm and sweet, maybe a little early. "I know we can't -" his voice drops low, "- but I could still make it worth your while."

"Always do, babe."

If they're both awake, not covered in drool or sour milk smell, it could be fun to mess around a little. She smiles, the heat of his promise still flowing over her skin like molasses, simmering low, forcing her back in for the kiss she would have gone without.

He laughs into it but she's barely catching his lips when his eyes widen in concern. Castle's mouth remains puckered but his brow wrinkles, eyes narrow and his vision drifts over her shoulder to their kids.

Three children under four and she's never living down how much he drives her crazy, gets under her skin, when there's three walking, talking, definitely toddling, little bits of evidence scurrying around.

Up on her feet before she can speak, Kate pivots on the spot looking for their daughters. Their bright coats make them stand out immediately and the rapid beat of her heart settles again with her kids in sight.

They've been puddle jumping. Little boots and pant legs soaked with water, they hold hands for one and let go for the next and she winces knowing what's coming.

Their middle girl missteps, still wobbly on her toddler feet. She throws her arms up how they taught her, and nevertheless lands firmly on her butt. The water splashes up into her face and the girl's eyes blink in shock as the cold and muddy liquid drips into her hair.

She's up on her feet again before the tears come, but they do come. Great, fat ones rolling down her cheeks. Yet she doesn't cry out, doesn't bellow for attention the way her brother and sister do.

"Oh," Kate's hand covers her mouth, about to run the short distance between them and pick her daughter up. To cuddle and soothe away the dent to her pride, but she startles when Castle's hand closes over her own

"Wait a second."

He's crazy if he thinks she's just going to stand by and - but he's smiling and watching over her shoulder, nodding for her to turn around.

Their girls are only fourteen months apart, not twins though they sure look like it, and the eldest of the two is pushing onto her tiptoes to kiss her little sister on the nose. It's a loud smacking kiss that echoes in the quiet park, followed by little bubble pop, silly kisses that make them both giggle. The nose, then the cheek, then the forehead. She keeps at it, their little hero, kissing and soothing and giggling at her sister, before leaning the distance between them, pressing their heads together and whispering something that makes the other girl laugh.

"S'ok beebee," she promises, her own pet name for her baby sister instantly added to the list in Kate's mind. "No booboo beebee," they giggle and turn to Kate, "see mama?"

"I see." She calls, though only their father would pick up on the emotion in her voice.

"No booboo?"

"No, no booboo." They agree, snagging hands and toddling off before Kate even has a chance to move let alone register what just happened.

"What - what was that?" Kate asks, dropping down next to him on the bench and sliding into his side. How did you

"Saw them do it the other day," Castle smiles reaching for Kate's hand, tugging her to him.

"She kissed her and -"

"Pressed their foreheads together?" He laughs, finishing her sentence, "Yeah, apparently mommy and daddy do it all the time."

"She did not say that?"

Castle laughs and nods his head, "there's a reason Mother calls them double trouble."

"Yeah, remember how much easier it was when we weren't out numbered?"

"No." They both answer automatically, even from the get go they've been up and running and just about keeping up with their crazy kids.

They wouldn't have it any other way.

Kate hums her happiness into the air between them, dropping her head to Castle's shoulder so she can run a hand over the warm, fat little belly of her baby.

She watches the girls hold hands and jump into another puddle, their earlier mishap already forgotten. "Double trouble?"

Castle lifts his arm, and smiles when Kate fits in, "Yeah, weirdly works for them doesn't it?"

"It does," she agrees as the baby's face scrunches and a rumble of unpleasant odor fills the air, " though with this one in the mix I think we're looking at a triple threat."