Homeward
a Dash Companion
Dashiell is not a Hammett.
"I'm a Castle," he mutters at his mother, turning his face towards her in the cozy booth. "Not a Hammett."
"Sorry, baby, I know," she says to him, leaning down to kiss his cheeks, her hands cupping his face.
He leans into Mommy, squirming like a bug, and steals another one of her french fries. "This my favorite place, Mommy."
"I know, baby. That's why we came. Eat your own fries."
He wriggles a little more, and Mommy gives up and drags him into her lap. He bounces on her legs and wraps his feet behind her knees, snuggling back as she hugs him. Her kisses get sloppy and messy and then she's raspberrying his neck and making him giggle so hard.
He takes a gasping breath when she stops, realizes his fingers are curled in Mommy's hair. She's untangling them but she's laughing too, and he sighs and releases her, looks over at his sister.
"Daddy, how's my baby?"
His father is smiling at him, but he glances down to Ellery and touches her cheek. "She looks good. I think she likes it too."
"She has hot dogs like me?"
Baby Girl has a spoon but she just waves it round and round and hits the table. Daddy keeps giving her Cheerios.
"I think she's going to stick to the cereal, buddy. But soon."
"Daddy, she's trying the spoon. She is so close."
Mommy presses her mouth to his cheek and she squeezes with her arms. "You're a good brother, Dash."
"I am," he wriggles, smiling up at Mommy even as she laughs. "She likes it here. I do too."
"It's a fun place, but I think Ella is getting a little overstimulated. You too, huh, my man?"
No, he's okay - it's just lots of people here and the sound of the drinks hitting the tables and the forks scraping on the plates and the voices, all of the voices keep coming at him, and okay, maybe-
"Think so, wild man. Just a few more minutes," Mommy says softly. Her hands come to his shoulders and push down, push push push, and then she squeezes him again.
Dash breathes out in relief and leans back into his mother, turns his head to rub his cheek against her neck. Mommy's squeeze tightens and then she loosens up a little, puts her palm to the side of his face and kisses his forehead.
Daddy leans out and grabs the lady who keeps refilling their drinks. "Can we get the check, please?"
Dash sits up, glances at Daddy, but the woman has already moved away.
The check?
He turns to look at Mommy but she's licking her fingers as she eats a french fry.
Huh. "Daddy?"
"Yeah, bud?"
"I thought. . .umm. . ."
"What did you think, Dash?"
"You not pay for my dinner?"
"Not yet."
But. . .that makes no sense.
"Why they pay you?"
"Who pays me?" Daddy says, letting Ellery take a Cheerio from his hand.
Dash huffs and turns to Mommy, twisting his arms around her neck and drawing her down close. "Mommy," he says quietly. "Why they pay us a check?"
Mommy grins and lifts her head to Daddy. They have smiles back and forth and then Daddy gives a little chuckle.
"Hey, Dashiell, you heard me asking the waitress for the check?"
"Yeah." He shrugs and leans forward to puts his hands around Mommy's drink. She helps, giving him the straw and he sucks down her water.
"Well, this is a different kind of check."
He lifts his eyes to look at Daddy.
"This check is a bill for the food we ordered. So we pay the check and then we get to go home."
"But when you get a check, Daddy, like in the mail and it has allllllll those zeroes-"
"Inside voice, Dash," Mommy says.
"Allll those zeroes," he whispers. "That's a check, Daddy, but you don't pay it. It pays you!"
Daddy is laughing, but it's the good kind, the kind that says it's okay to laugh. He tries but he doesn't see what's so funny. The lady comes back with the check that is also a bill and Daddy pulls out cash, still chuckling.
"Mommy," he sighs, turning back to look at her. "What's so funny?"
"It's just another word that has two meanings. The check you ask for in a restaurant is really a bill, but we call it a check."
"Daddy?"
But he's nodding too. "We do. But pretty much only in a restaurant."
"That's not fair," Dash says, wrinkling his nose.
A bill but a check. But not a check like the one Daddy gets, but he's getting this check now, but not for money. But for money.
"Well, while you think about that one," Mommy says softly. "Let's get going."
"No subway."
"No subway," Daddy says. "Promise."
Kate wraps her fingers tighter around her son's hand, keeps him close as they step out onto the sidewalk. Castle keeps a protective arm up around the baby in the sling at his chest, battling their way through costumed pedestrians. Dashiell is bouncing on his toes, practically buzzing.
But it's his birthday dinner, and he loves this restaurant, and even though Halloween is one of the craziest times in this city, she's glad they did this.
"Hey, cab?" Castle calls back, his face in profile against the streetlights. He disappears for a moment behind a clown, and when she finds him again, she takes his fingers.
"Cab," she confirms, feels Dashiell pulling away. She turns and scoops him up even as they walk, heavy boy that he is.
"Mommy, walk."
"Too crowded. Might lose you, my man."
"Not a check," he murmurs into her ear, his arms wrapping around her neck. "Bill. Should be bill."
She huffs a laugh and kisses his cheek. "I know. Crazy, right?"
Dashiell sighs but perks up as another Halloween-costumed woman passes close to them, decked out as a witch, even with the green face paint and warty nose. She's in a cluster of people that includes a dog, a woman in red shoes and a blue skirt, and then Kate realizes-
"Oz!" Dashiell gasps. "Look, Daddy, look!"
Kate feels Castle turn, his grip on her fingers twisting a little, and then he chuckles. "I see. That's pretty cool. You know one year Mommy dressed up as a sexy-"
"Castle."
"What's a sexy?"
"Beautiful," Castle supplies smoothly. "A beautiful cat."
"A beautiful cat?" Dash asks, turning his eyes to Kate. "That's not any fun, Mommy."
"It was fun for me," Castle says.
Kate knocks her shoulder into his, accidentally startling the baby awake, and she winces as Ellery lets out a mewling cry.
"Now look what you did," Castle accuses, hunching over Ella and shooting her a dirty look. "Mommy is so mean, isn't she, baby girl?"
"Oh, whatever," she mutters, rolling her eyes.
"Mommy's not mean!" Dashiell defends hotly, his fingers gripping her hair.
Kate laughs, gives Castle a smirk. "Thanks, baby. But Daddy is messing with me."
"Messing is joking?"
"It is. Just like joking."
"Daddy, all the words. . ." Dash gives a great sigh and lays his cheek against Kate's shoulder.
Castle flashes them both a grin, looking so proud of his son, and then he shakes his head. "You're right, Dash. And that's the great thing about words. They can mean so many things. And when you find just the right words and put them in just the right order to tell just the right story-"
"Then you're just like Daddy," Kate interrupts. "A writer with all the right words."
Castle's eyes startle up to hers, warm and pleased and shot through with summer sky even in the darkness of Halloween night. His lips curl into a grin and she knows that he's going to stop them in the middle of the sidewalk just to kiss her. She can see it on his face-
But there's a loud sigh from the boy in her arms, his arms tightening around her neck. "There's too many words," he murmurs.
"What a vocabulary, huh?"
Kate laughs at him, but Castle doesn't care. This is Dashiell's third birthday but already he's more advanced even than precocious little Alexis was at the same age. The kid didn't shut up all night, going on and on about the check versus bill thing.
"Did you check on the baby?" she murmurs, tugging the earrings out of her ears, her head cocked as she looks at him.
There's another way to use check, he thinks. Dash will like that; gotta remember it.
"Castle?"
He blinks at Kate. "Uh, was I supposed to check on her?"
She wrinkles her nose and he sees her glancing towards the baby monitor.
He waves it off. "She's fine. You just put her down. She's not Dash - she's a champion sleeper."
Kate curls her fingers around her earrings and places them on the dresser. She pulls her wedding ring - her mother's ring - off of her finger and drops it in its wooden box next to her father's watch.
"I'm gonna go check on her," she says, a hand shaking her hair out as she heads for the door.
He sighs but lets her go, unbuttoning his cuffs and pulling his shirt tails out of his pants. Dashiell was in preschool today, had a pumpkin party with his class in his costume - a knight of course - and when Castle picked him up, he said he wanted to go to his favorite Mexican place for dinner.
So they went. A little tentatively, because of his issues and the baby, but Castle is pretty certain that Ellery doesn't get affected by crowds and noise like Dashiell. So she should be fine to sleep. Dash though. . .he's expecting problems later.
He's just gotten his pajama pants on, tugging the drawstring a little looser, when Kate comes back into the room.
"Yeah?"
She nods. Asleep then, no trouble. Ella's not her brother, that's for sure.
"But guess who was up?" she adds.
"Oh. Darn."
"I figured as much, though." Kate tugs her shirt over her head, her hair falling free, long and already past her shoulders again like it used to be. "He's all hyped up on Halloween. I told him next year we'd do more trick or treating."
"I thought we could this year," he starts. "But-"
"I think he was fine with what he got. How does he know any differently?" Kate says, coming closer and sliding her arms around his neck. "I think only trick or treating in our building was a smart idea, Rick. Next year we'll attempt the church's trunk or treat thing. Too much for this year."
He shrugs, but he feels like he's cheated his kid out of it, just a little bit. Especially since they went to a restaurant rather than Castle making something here, having a themed party-
Kate goes on. "And he had a party at preschool, got to wear his costume all day. He's good. He's too good, actually. He's still excited and unable to sleep up there."
Castle shrugs but she lifts up onto her toes and kisses his jaw, her nose nuzzling his.
"You did good, Daddy."
His hands skim up her bare back until he can hook his thumbs in her bra; he turns his head to kiss her softly, her lips opening to him, her tongue touching his.
"Happy Dash's birthday," he murmurs, tugging a little on her bra, lifting an eyebrow in question.
She curls her fingers in his pants. "Mm, yes. Let's."