Notes: I watch Doctor Who, okay? Closing Time was epic. Moffat created a monster. I wrote this bit of fluff after showing Hallow777 a picture of young Alfie, and asking her if looked like something that could be hanging off of Kate Beckett's hip. So we made a deal, I would write this fic, and she would start watching Doctor Who tomorrow. I hope you guys enjoy this!

Disclaimers: I don't own Castle or Doctor Who


Kate shifted the eight-month-old up on her hip as she stepped around the island in the kitchen. "I know little man, you want your bananas," she cooed, attempting to distract him while rummaged in the drawer for his rubber-coated spoon, "I don't think Daddy put it away yet, let's check the dishwasher."

"What didn't I do?"

"Put Jason's spoon in the drawer," she answered from her spot next to the open dishwasher.

"Oh, sorry. Come here Stormageddon," Rick teased plucking the baby from her arms.

Kate rolled her eyes and pulled the spoon out. "Why do you insist on calling him that, he's actually not the Dark Lord of All, you know?"

"It's a thing, that I do, because it's cool," he replied, completely non-plussed by her challenging tone.

"Right, go put Jason in his high chair, unless you want to wear his bananas," she instructed pulling out the container and popping it open.

"He prefers Stormy, Kate. I'm telling you."

"And I think your TARDIS is malfunctioning, go put Jason in his seat before I sic the Dalek Empire on you."

"You are no fun at all," he pouted, carefully strapping the baby into his high chair. "Stormy, I think Mommy has her panties all in a twist over nothing."

"Oh yes, poor old Stick in the mud, Kate," she retorted hip-checking him and pulling one of the chairs out from their dining table.

"Yes, but you're my stick in the mud."

"Cancel any plans you had of ever seeing me naked again."

Jason looked back and forth at his bantering parents. He shouted at them in baby babble something that loosely translated to, "MOM! NOT MOM! I want fishsticks and custard, not this slop!"