In Case of Emergencies
a story in the Dash Universe
two years after Dash of Summer
for operaluvr who asked for a book tour: this isn't quite what you meant
but I hope it will do
Rick Castle hesitates in the office with his phone still in his hand, his eyes fixed on the woman in front of him.
Kate offers him a tentative smile. "Was it bad news?"
"I-" he croaks. Can't get it out.
"That bad?" She takes one step towards him, but she doesn't come the rest of the way, waiting on him.
"Depends," he finally says. His arm drops, phone inert in his hand. "Depends on how you look at it."
"Oh?" Confusion scuttles across her face; she takes a quick look behind her through the open shelves of his office, but the living room is empty. No one to overhear. "What do you mean?"
"They sold the international movie rights to the Nikki Heat series," he blurts out. "For forty million dollars."
"They... what?"
"But I have to do a European book tour," he adds, the whole thing crashing down on him now. What it involves, what it means for them. "A three month tour to start with."
"To start with. Three months," she says. Her voice is like steel, nothing shows on her face. "Okay."
"Starting this summer. The studio over there had already procured a director; they even have a team already writing the script. Even before I said - yes."
"You said yes?" she blurts out.
Castle stares at her. He did. He said yes. "On accident," he offers weakly, spreading his hands in surrender.
Kate laughs, which is a huge relief, and he reaches out for her, needing a hug right about now. Kate comes, sliding her arms around his waist, squeezing, giving in to his unspoken need. They're clicking along pretty well at the moment; it makes him happy to know they get each other's needs, they can foresee what happens next.
Won't always be like that, not with the trial coming up. He should postpone-
"You said yes on accident, Castle?"
"I think I was just so surprised. And then Paula just ran with it, and started lining things up, and now there's a movie in the works, and I've got to go back to Nikki Heat."
"Nothing wrong with that," she murmurs. He can feel her smile even if he can't see it. She steps back from him then, releasing his waist to settle against the desk. "So Nikki Heat is going to take Europe by storm. Do you have any say in what goes into the movie?"
"Movies," he stresses. "A series syndication. They said - they talked about it like James Bond. For women."
Her jaw drops.
"I did say the forty million dollars part, right?"
Kate stares up at him, hands braced on the desk. "Oh my God. Castle. That's - I guess I didn't hear that."
"It's an obscene amount of money."
"It really is," she chuckles. "But wow. Congratulations, babe. That's huge."
He can see it going across her face, what they're in for, how popularity overseas will mean a lot of effort and time spent there instead of here, where his family is. With the impeachment case quietly building, and Black Pawn finally at an autonomous place. Okay, well, not exactly autonomous, but it hums along nicely without him most days. He's been able to focus on Felix and his kids, focus on supporting Kate and the prosecutor.
And his kid's kid. Sophie. His heart melts a little even now. Sophie will be three months older when Castle gets back from Europe. That's not fair.
"You can do it," Kate says briskly. "We can do it. It won't be a problem."
"What about - Sophie?" he says finally. "She's so young."
"Sophie?" she laughs, her lips tugging up. "You're worried about Allie's daughter? What about our daughter? Our son? Me - your wife?"
"My wife? She's fine," he waves off. "She's always fine." He grins up at her, lips smirking, but he tries to take it seriously. "The kids are older - they want me around a whole lot less now that they're in school. Ella barely acknowledges my existence."
Kate tilts her head, a look he doesn't understand swimming in her eyes. "She'll miss you so much. Three months right now is a big deal. And Dash. Poor kid. Who else is going to talk about every single nuance of a word? Not me."
"Dash has much cooler things going on than stopping to hang out with his old dad."
Kate sighs, steps into his arms again, wrapping him up. "And the baby is the only one who wants to hang out with you? Is that it?"
"The baby adores me."
"Sophie just doesn't know better yet."
He grumbles into her hair but she only laughs and strokes the back of his neck. "A joke. Surely you know that's a joke. You'd be surprised, Rick. How many of us adore you."
Castle gives an embarrassed little laugh, surprised by her. "Oh, yeah? You adore me?"
She nudges a kiss into his neck and releases him again. "Yeah. Though I meant the kids. But, sure, me too."
He shakes his head, has to absolutely crush the urge to roll his eyes - that's her trait and she can keep it. "Well, we should tell the kids. You think this summer they'd - I don't know - want to meet up with me? You guys could all come over."
Kate lifts her eyebrows. "Oh?"
"Just the four of us," he says quickly. "Give Allie and Rafe some time alone with their little family - without us horning in on everything."
"Without you horning in," she smirks.
"Or that," he mutters back to her. But Kate seems to be thinking about it. "Well, summer is a long way off - next year, really. But. I think I can get the time off."
"Two weeks?" he asks, pushing it. There's the case - whenever that's supposed to come up, they still don't know. She'll want to be involved in that, so two weeks is asking a lot.
"Three?" she offers, biting her bottom lip.
"Four?"
Kate winces, holds up both hands. "That - well, you will be there for three months, Rick. If the kids and I come out to meet you in Paris or London or wherever for a month - then - well, it would be easier to take the other two months without you. Say the whole month of July."
He blinks, staring at her. Is this really the Kate Beckett who fights tooth and nail for every case, every victim? The workaholic?
"Stop looking at me like that," she says, poking his shoulder. "I take time off."
"You absolutely do not," he shoots back. "Not a month."
"You don't want me to?"
"Oh, no, no. I didn't say that. I definitely want you in Europe with me for a month. For three months, if I could get you."
She crosses her arms tightly over her chest, frowning. "I don't know if-"
He laughs, grips her by the upper arms, trying to loosen her up. "Kate, babe, not what I meant. Just meet me in Paree, oui?"
She wrinkles her nose at his cheesy line, but she steps into him, her feet fitting between his. "Maybe so. A month at least. It's more vacation time than I really have, but I think we can afford it. You did just sign away movie rights to Nikki Heat."
"International," he corrects. The US release was a total flop. He doesn't like to think about it.
"International woman of mystery," she whispers.
And then her mouth opens over his neck, tongue touching his skin, and he finds it incredibly difficult to think at all about Europe - or anything else.
Dash looks very seriously at the gift his father holds out to him. "That's for me? Because you get to fly a plane?"
"And you don't?" his mother laughs. She cups the back of his head, pressing it against her hip, but Dash dodges her hand. He's a little old for that - his birthday is coming up and he'll be eight years old, and if his Dad is giving him a phone, then Mom doesn't get to treat him like a baby.
"I really wanted to fly a plane," he sighs. But his father is still holding out the bright green phone and he takes it; Dad always has the best toys, even if this doesn't look like much. He turns it over in his hands and tries to use his thumb to unlock it. Nothing happens. It sits like a dumb green frog in his hand. "This isn't a real phone."
His mom flicks his ear. "It is a real phone. It's just not an iphone. You think we're giving a seven year old an iphone? Think again, wild man."
He huffs up at her but his dad takes him by the shoulder, pulls him to the couch where they both sit. Dad takes the phone and pushes a button at the top to turn it on. It has a garish display - Mom taught him that word - and as it loads up the different apps, it has a huge green smiling face on the screen.
"There's like two apps on this," he says, poking at the screen.
"That's on purpose," Mom says.
"You know I'm going to Europe," his father tells him. "And that's kind of far away. But this is so you can call me. Any time. Anywhere."
"Oh?" He can call his dad by himself?
"It only calls my cell phone and mom's, so you can't get into too much trouble," Dad chuckles. "And if Ellery wants to call - then you have to promise to help her."
"So it's not really my phone."
"No, it is your phone," his mom says, moving to sit beside him on the couch so that Dash is now a Dash sandwich. He wriggles between them and Mom scratches her fingers in his scalp then ducks his head with a push of her hand. Feels good, makes his whole anxious body settle down again.
"But if Ella gets to-"
"But you're the one who has to help her," Dad says. "She doesn't get a phone; she's only five. And you get to decide if it's a good idea or not, to make a phone call to me all the way in Europe."
"I bet I can hack this phone," he tells them, scowling because Ella.
His mother starts to laugh, and she waves her hand as if in dismissal when Dash glances at her. Mom gets up and moves like she's going to head for the stairs, probably to explain to Ellery what it means by Dash's phone even though Dash is pretty sure Ella will try to steal it from him anyway.
Ella is no respecter of persons. He heard that in church. It's a really good phrase to use for a little sister who keeps trying to take his stuff, though he's got no idea what it means about God things. Ellery even takes Sophie's stuff, and Sophie's just a baby who can't help it. It's not like Sophie ever means to take up all of Dad's time.
Mom kisses his forehead, and then lifts to kiss Dad's forehead too. "You explain it, Castle. I want no part of this."
Dash glances nervously to the stairs. "You're gonna tell Ella that it's mine, right?"
"I'm going up to tell her right now, baby. Promise. She's not allowed to take it. Though I doubt that will stop her."
"Mom!"
His dad gives him a grim and funny look. "Your mom thinks it's going to be a colossal train wreck."
"Do trains get wrecked?" he startles. "But, Dad, they run on tracks. They can't go nowhere. How do they wreck?"
His dad shakes his head, reaches out to tap the bright green, rubbery phone. "This is yours. If there is a train wreck, you call me."
"So, never?"
He's made his dad laugh. This is a good one, loud and surprised. "Son, I'm talking about emergencies. That's what I mean. You have a bad dream and you absolutely have to talk to me - that's understandable. But see if you can't get mom first. Then call me if you still need to."
"Oh, emergencies. Do planes wreck?"
"Sometimes." And then Dad hesitates, glancing towards the upstairs where Mom has disappeared and Dash feels uncomfortable. It's like the ants in the ant colony at school have escaped out of their sand and begun to crawl up his arms.
Dad is supposed to say, Sometimes but not my plane.
Dad doesn't say it. Dash lets out a breath. "But I can call you if something bad happens." His palms are sweaty against the phone; he really wants Mom to come back downstairs and say those things that Dad won't say. Dad says, It's not my job to lie to you. I'm your father; I'm supposed to help you understand how the world works - and your place in it.
Planes crash, maybe his dad's plane, and trains can be wrecked, which just seems impossible.
"You can call me, Dash," his father says quietly. "Any time you want. Okay? Forget what I said about emergencies. Sometimes a guy just needs to talk to his dad."
Dash swallows, nodding fiercely as that rushes through him, things getting good again. Mom has been making him do these stupid thermometers - emotional thermometers, he's supposed to call them. But right now he's cooling off to where he needs to be to make good decisions, not running so hot. His engine has to stay a steady temperature or else it all just - blows up.
"I can call you," he echoes. "But, Dad, you can call me too. Any time. Even if I'm at swim."
"Oh, yeah?" his dad says. He sounds like maybe he's trying not to laugh, and Dash lifts his head to look, squinting suspiciously.
"Yeah. Can this phone go in the water?"
His dad starts to laugh then, rubbing the corners of his eyes like he might cry. "Oh, Dash, wild man. I told your mom you'd want it in the water. So yeah, kiddo, it's water-proof."
"Awesome. So I can swim with it."
"Um. How about you leave it in your bag when you swim? You don't want it slowing you down, more resistance in the water."
"Oh yeah," Dash murmurs. "You're right. That would be bad. Miller is so fast. I'm gonna catch him."
"I'm sure you'll do your very best, and that's all we ask, buddy. You know?" Dad hooks his arm around Dash's neck and squeezes, which is another one of those good things that makes Dash's body settle down, maintain a good temperature for his engine. "But, hey, I should tell you. Time zones are different. So you might call me, and I might be asleep or in a meeting because it's a different time there."
"I can stay up late, Dad. I stay up with you sometimes."
"Yeah, if I'm working on a book. And you stay up with Mom, I know. But in Europe, where I'm going, I might be asleep. So don't panic if I don't answer right away."
"Okay, I won't panic," he promises. "But you'll call me back?"
"Yeah. But hey, wild man, Mom says it's just for emergencies, Mom is going to tell you that you'll see me in a month when you guys all come. So... you know."
"I know," he says, nodding very adult and grown-up like Mom does to Dad a lot. Especially lately, when they talk about the Vice-President. They didn't vote for him, maybe that's why, but lots of other people did because they didn't know any better.
Dad hugs him harder and it's just the two of them on the couch, no Sophie, not even Ella or Mom, and the green frog of a phone isn't that bad really. It's garish and for babies, but Miller doesn't have a phone, does he?
"Dad, do you think I can show Miller my phone?" Dash tucks in real close to his dad and leans against his side and sees just how long his own leg is against his dad's leg. It gets closer and closer every day. Mom says he'll be just as tall as his dad. But Dash thinks it's real slow-going. "Do you think I can call when I win my swim meet?"
"Well," Dad says. Hedging. That's what the word is when you don't want to say what you really think. Dad explained it was like putting those prickly bushes all around your thought and inviting someone in to find it. No one is gonna want to do that, so you've kept the real thought safe. Hedging.
The real thought is this: Mom says only emergencies, and Mom will be the one here to say no.
Dash looks glumly down at his phone. "I'm never gonna be able to talk."
His dad laughs softly, but it's a nice laugh, a laugh of kindness that says it's okay to not be exactly right. Or to be exactly exactly right in this case. "Maybe Miller doesn't get to see your cool phone, but you'll be able to talk to me, even if Mom makes you leave it at home. Besides, Mom will have to help you make the call."
"She said she's got no part of it," Dash complains.
"You think Mom wouldn't help you call if you really needed to? I think she'd help you."
"Yeah," but he's still moping. He knows it too, but that doesn't make him feel better. His dad is leaving for months and months and Dad gets to fly a plane really high over the world and it's just not fair. Dash has always always wanted to fly a plane. "Can I fly a plane someday like you?"
"Fly a - oh, man. Dashiell. I'm not the one flying it; I don't know how. I don't have a license. A pilot will do that for me - me and all the passengers."
The image Dash has in his head of the sputtering little plane with it's cockpit window and waving-wings like The Little Prince movie they watched is suddenly popped like a bubble. Just a regular plane. He heard wrong; that's embarrassing. He's always missing pieces of conversations because he starts thinking about other things.
Like flying a plane. Instead of that oh-so-important in. In a plane. One little word.
But his dad has his thoughtful look on his face, and Dash perks up, casting a sharp grin at his dad. "Can we learn it? You and me? We could fly a plane if someone gave us a license."
His dad is thinking about it; Dash can see it on his face. Thinking hard. "Give me time to soften up your mom. We'll see."
"We'll see?! That totally means yes!"
"I heard that!" his mom calls out. She's heading back into the living room now with two big, wrapped presents - and Ellery is trailing after her, looking avid and curious. "We'll see means we have to think about it. Castle, what are we thinking about?"
"Flying a plane," Dad says - breezily. Avid and breezy. Good words, Dash is really glad he knows how to think those words exactly right to make the whole thing as it should be - plus they sound like plane words. So it might happen.
Avid Ellery is hopping down the last step, and instead of running to Dad and crawling into his arms, she comes to him and cuddles close.
"You gots a phone, Dashy?"
"It's my phone," he says sharply. "And don't baby talk. You're five."
"Almost six," she mutters.
"Where's Linc?" Mom asks.
Dashiell recoils in horror, slimy slimy horror, but Ellery giggles. "I put him up, Mommy. He's in his home. Dash don't like him."
"Where's Rex?" Dash grumbles. "You had him dog-napped for Linc to ride-"
"Him sleeping," Ella says.
Dad reaches out and tugs on her ear, lifting an eyebrow. "He is sleeping. Use the right pronouns, baby girl."
Ellery rolls her eyes and wriggles closer to Dash, reaching for the green frog phone. Dash yanks it back, reflex, but then realizes he ought to let her look or she'll hound him. Or lizard him. Run after him with Abraham Lincoln the slimy horrible bearded-dragon lizard.
Ellery's mouth drops open when he puts the phone in her hands. Dad drops a heavy pat on Dashiell's back for it, and then Mom is moving to sit opposite them on the coffee table.
And she's got two presents in her hands.
"Mom?"
"I know I can't compete with the phone," Mom says, winking at Dad for some reason. "Boys and their toys. But this... kind of relates. Here, Dash, Ella, these are from me."
It's like his birthday or something. But it's not his birthday, not even a half birthday which Mom says is a trick and not a birthday and no one gets presents for half-birthdays except Dad because he got tricked on his birthday which is April Fool's, the biggest trick day of all. So Dad gets half birthdays.
Ellery dumps the phone back in his hands so fast he barely realizes it, and then she's taking the present from Mom and hugging it against her. "All for me, Mommy?"
"All for you. Dash, baby, this one is yours."
Dash tucks the phone under his leg to keep it safe and Mom gives him the box. He glances over at his sister - they're the same kind of shape, and they got them together, so it means they're the same present. He waits to see what Ella gets.
It's a backpack. A really cool Optrix backpack with the net pocket too. Dash blinks, then rips open his own paper, tearing the lid off the box and he's got one too. Mom said no. She totally said no when he asked, and now Mom is giving him and Ella both these backpacks? They have wires. They charge his phone, and his video game, and have all these pockets, and they come with the computer thing that lets him play Optrix the game.
Dash stares down at it, at the green phone in his lap too.
"This is soooo pretty. But I got a school bag," Ellery says. Dash knocks his elbow into her and gives her the look. She shuts up, furrows her eyebrows as she looks down at the backpack. Ella plays Optrix too, but not as much as him.
"Mom, you got us Optrix backpacks. This is so cool," he says. "Ellery, isn't it so cool?"
"I can have this?" She's running her fingers over the black and blue zebra stripes on the side. He reaches out and touches it too, feels the weird furry-snake skin of it. His doesn't feel like that - Mom knows better. But Ella loves it; she rubs it over and over.
"For this summer, these are your carryon bags," Mom says then, bending down and kissing his neck right behind his ear. His heart was already a little funny at the backpack and the word he's so sure he knows, carryon, but surely-
"What's that?" Ella says. "I not know."
Dad reaches across him and takes Ellery up into his lap, kissing her cheeks loudly. "Carryon, and you do know. Plus you know I think you're the cutest baby girl to ever live - but I would really like to hear you talk like a five year old. Not a baby."
Ellery does not like that at all, and Dash keeps trying to tell Dad, but Dad thinks - actually, Dashiell doesn't know at all what Dad thinks, since it only makes Ella so so mad and Dad would stop if he knew better. He thinks. Mom would push, make her mad just to make Ella do something.
"You don't think I'm cuter than Sophie. She's the cute baby," Ellery huffs, wriggling straight out of Dad's lap and hopping back to her spot next to him.
Dad lifts both eyebrows. Mom doesn't look surprised. Well, neither is Dash. Sophie is here all the time.
"Ellery," Dad says quietly. "You and I are going to have a talk. And I'd send you to your room for being disrespectful, but it's possible that your old Dad has been a little disrespectful first. So let's call a truce, baby girl."
"I'm not a baby," she mutters, turning her head away from Dad.
Dash nudges her, and she looks at him, and then she looks at Mom too, so Mom must have said something to her upstairs.
"Hey, Ellery Queen," Mom murmurs, leaning in over the backpacks to kiss her. "What did I say? Daddy has to leave tomorrow, and he wants to have a good night with his family. Okay?"
"But the carryons," Dash bursts out. He can't help it. So what if Ellery is moody and sulky? She always gets mad. "What is going on? Why do we have carryons? Optrix backpacks that you said no, no, no."
Dad laughs, but he's looking at Ellery. "You, and Ella, and Mom are going to fly out and visit me while I'm on tour. In about a month."
Dash's whole body bursts with it, flaring open and colorful and wide; he flings his arms around his dad's neck and hugs, hugs so hard. "We get to come see you?"
"Yeah, course," Dad says. His voice is all thick. "In a month. Ellery? You hear that, sweetheart?"
"In a month," she repeats.
Dash looks over his shoulder at Ellery and for the first time - he sees it. Ella is so so unhappy. She's been mean and fighting and taking his stuff, dog-napping Rex, but she's so sad.
That's why. She doesn't want Daddy to leave.
"Ellery, come here," Dad says. "Give me a hug. I need a really good one from my only baby girl."
Ellery climbs over Dash, putting her foot - oof - right in his guts, and then she's hanging on Dad like a monkey, and Dash has to let go of Dad entirely.
But Mom shifts to the couch and wraps an arm around his shoulders and pulls him in. Her voices comes right in his ear, soft, "Thanks for being such a good brother. I'm proud of you, Dashiell."
He grins and turns his head to see Mom, her eyes happy with him, and he hugs her now too, because she's the one taking them to Europe in July to meet Dad, and she's the one who's going to help him call Dad on the phone.
Mom pats his shoulder. "So. Kid. You and me and Ella this summer. What do you want to do?"
"Can we get an ant farm?"
Mom goes blank, stares at him.
"We have one at school. I really have always wanted one. It would console me because Dad is gone."
"You're a piece of work," Mom laughs, shaking her head.
But-?
"We'll see," she says.
We'll see means yes. Everyone knows that.
He's getting an ant farm.