Maybe it was the hour in Kilmer Park, zipping down the slide with Alexis to catch him at the bottom, swinging high sitting backwards on Kate's lap with his head tucked over her shoulder and squealing in her ear, racing away from Castle as they played hide and seek in the trees.
Maybe it's the hot dog in one hand (precious cargo that), the promise of cotton candy later if he's good, or the huge foam finger he clutches (by the finger) and won't let go of.
Or maybe it's just the right combination of sounds and sights and smells, but regardless, Dashiell Alexander Castle is riveted by baseball.
Dash sits in his father's lap, his eyes everywhere, all over, watching every little thing, but sitting perfectly still. He's tilted forward, eyes wide, mouth open in a round O of astonishment. Like he can't figure out how this is all happening.
Kate wishes, for the first time in maybe the kid's whole life, that Dash was sitting in her lap instead. She knows she'll have her turn, of course, running after him when he finally gets bored, but at this moment, Dashiell is enthralled.
The game hasn't even started yet; the guys are still out on the field throwing the ball around, playing catch, wearing their jackets, chatting with each other. A couple of kids are hanging over the railing with pens and baseball cards, hats, trying to get Jeter's attention, yelling for an autograph.
The Black Pawn premium seats are really nice. Along the third base line in the Legends Suite, with comfortable seating at a long table, closed circuit tvs every couple of seats, and a waiter who takes orders and brings out food and drinks.
Kate has BBQ nachos, entirely disgusting and completely delicious, and a beer in a souvenir cup. Alexis has a pepsi and a hot dog, just like her brother, and Castle has a couple of things spread across the table; he kept asking the waiter to go back and get more, like a little kid. He even ordered sushi.
Dashiell leans forward, practically hanging out of Castle's lap, to watch a couple of boys race down the steps to the railing, both of the boys wearing Yankees gear and carrying their gloves.
Kate watches him watching the kids, the look of absorption in his face like nothing she's ever seen before.
Kate looks over at Alexis, sees the girl texting again. "Who you talking to?"
Alexis blushes, and immediately Kate's eyebrows raise. "No one. Well, a guy from school."
"What's his name?"
"Lofton. I saw that he'd checked in to the game, and I messaged him."
"He checked in. You didn't check in, did you? Because you know that's dangerous. All kinds of people know where you are when you check in, and they know where you're not."
Alexis rolls her eyes. "No, Mom. I didn't check in. Dad has already given me the lecture."
They share a look, part smirk, part hesitance, and then Kate goes for serious. "You know that's because I gave *him* the lecture first?"
Alexis laughs. "No, really? Dad was updating where he was?"
"Yeah, the idiot. It's dangerous for anyone to be doing that, but someone like him? Someone. . ." Kate sighs. "Famous. Sheesh, that's asking for trouble."
"Yeah, he's got crazy fans. But no, I don't tell people on twitter or facebook where I am. I get it."
"Promise?"
"I promise. I mean, I told Lofton. . ."
"Lofton," Kate wrinkles her nose. "Like Kenny Lofton?"
Alexis laughs, startled. "Yeah. You know him? He was named for some guy, Kenny Lofton."
"Oh, come on. Seriously? You've never heard of Kenny Lofton?" Kate sits up, staring down at Alexis, feeling old all of a sudden. "He's a famous baseball player. He's in the Hall of Fame. He played for the Indians, the team we're rooting against."
"Ohh," Alexis murmurs, blushing. "That explains why Lofton is at the game. And some of his comments."
Kate shakes her head. "A house divided, Alexis."
Alexis blushes. "It's not like we're going out."
Kate meets her eyes and they share another look, and this time, Alexis blushes fiercely and ducks her head.
"Do I need to tell your father about this Lofton guy? I could do a background search." Kate threatens, grinning to let Alexis know she's teasing.
"Oh no, please." Alexis glances at her phone, blushes again, and starts texting back.
"What? He can't bother to call you?" Kate says, reaching for Alexis's phone.
Alexis yanks it back, trying to look murderous, laughing instead, keeping her phone out of Kate's reach. "Don't you dare."
"Did that say Al? Does he call you Al?" Kate laughs.
Alexis groans and hides her face. "I can't make him stop. I made the mistake of telling him I never had a nickname and he's just run with it. He's trying out names every other day."
"Hilarious. Is he stuck on Al?" Kate's got that Paul Simon song running through her head now; if Alexis hasn't heard it before, she'll absolutely *have* to play it for her. Find it on youtube on her iPhone. And Betty when you call me, you can call me Al.
"He is stuck on Al. It's humiliating."
"It's kinda cute," Kate offers, biting her bottom lip to keep from laughing. She glances over at Castle, but he's busy pointing out things to Dashiell, their faces close, Dashiell's intensity and focus completely endearing.
"You can't talk. You have a great name to make into nicknames. Kate, Katie, Kat, Kath. Endless awesome possibilities. Mom." Alexis emphasizes the new name with another roll of her eyes, but Kate can see the still-fresh hope on the young woman's face, like she expects to be rejected.
Kate decides to let it go, and instead shakes her head. "Yeah, that's true, but the problem is, every nickname gets stuck with a certain age. When I was little, it was Katie. In high school, everyone *had* to call me Katherine. One of my best friends, Madison, always called me Becks, so I think of her whenever someone tries it, and it doesn't sound right coming out of anyone else's mouth. In college, it was Kat. Well, until my mom died, and then it was Kate. I think because she called me Kate a lot, refused to use Kat. And then, of course, on the job, it's always Beckett."
Alexis gives her a soft smile, and her phone vibrates to announce another message, but she doesn't look at it. "Beckett. That's Dad's favorite."
Kate smiles, mostly to herself. Because it's *not* his favorite, but she's not going to tell his daughter that. "Although, sometimes Esposito likes to play with fire. He'll call me Castle when I say something stupid."
"Which isn't often, I'm sure," Alexis says, laughing so hard she has to put her drink down. "But that's priceless."
"Oh, do not encourage him." Kate glowers, but the weird thing is, she sometimes likes it when she gets called Castle. She didn't take Castle's last name, just too much paperwork and too difficult to try to change the badge and everything, but it's a way of keeping Castle with them on the job that she likes. Finds reassuring. Oddly enough.
Alexis checks her phone, swiftly texts back again.
"So, if not Al, then what?" Kate says, nudging the girl's shoulder. "Lexi?"
"Ew, no. Meredith calls me that."
"Your mom."
"No," Alexis says, overly exaggerating, shrugging her shoulders as if to get rid of something, and then turns towards Kate with a sly grin. "You've never called me by a nickname."
Kate doesn't touch that one either, but makes a mental note to talk to Castle about somehow not replacing Meredith as Alexis's mother. If possible. She is really not looking forward to that conversation. "Okay then, Alexis. What would you want to be called?"
She shrugs again, eyes back on the field, watching the players mill around, looking young and sad. "I don't know. Kinda defeats the purpose, doesn't it? I like Dash's name for me, but it would sound silly coming from an adult."
Kate smiles, glances over at her son. Castle is trying to help Dashiell eat his hot dog, breaking it apart with his fingers, but Dash wants to shove the whole thing in his mouth.
"Yeah, I don't think Lofton will think Is-siss is very attractive."
Alexis laughs as well, glancing past Kate to look at Dash. "Well, *I* like it. Who cares? It's sweet."
"It is," Kate agrees. "Lex?"
"Ew. Lex Luthor."
"Oh, right, bad guy."
"Arch-nemesis of Clark Kent. And Superman is like my favorite comic book super hero."
"Can't have that then," Kate says, bemused by Alexis's sudden foray into Castle geeky-ness. "You don't like Al. There's Lexis?"
"That's a luxury car. Lexus."
"And we do *not* want the boys thinking they can take a ride," Castle chimes in, shooting them both a look.
Alexis leans over to smack him at the same time that Kate punches his shoulder, and he rubs at the sore spot, giving them a pathetic look. Dashiell chooses that moment to slap his palm against Castle's chest, mimicking the girls.
"Oh no," Kate groans, ducking her head. "My fault."
"*So* your fault, Detective," Castle says, narrowing his eyes as he captures Dashiell's little hand before it can slap him again. "No, Dashiell. No hitting Daddy."
Alexis, blushing, leans across Kate. "I'm sorry, Dad! That was really bad of me, Dashiell. Don't be like sissy. It's not nice to hit."
Dashiell, whose grin is starting to fade in the flood of negative reaction, looks hesitantly at his mother, as if for the last word.
Kate sighs. "Yeah, mommy shouldn't hit either. I'm sorry, Daddy. Tell Daddy you're sorry too, Dash."
Castle grins at her, eyebrows dancing, and she narrows his eyes at him. Suddenly, the announcer comes over the PA system to introduce the teams, and Dashiell's eyes pop open in surprise, the hitting forgotten.
Kate and Alexis both laugh at his astonishment, and Dash turns to look at his mother, holding both hands up, his leftover hot dog tilting precariously, the foam finger dipping into his ketchup.
"Momma!" he yells.
"Yeah, exciting buddy."
"Mom-ma!"
"See the baseball players, Dash? He's going to tell us their names and where they play," Kate says, pointing towards the field.
Dashiell struggles in Castle's arms, then turns to his father and shoves both the hot dog and the foam finger into his chest. "Daddy. Up. Up."
Kate saves the hot dog, lets the foam finger fall while Castle handles the kid. Dashiell gets to his feet to see over his father's head, glancing all around for the source of the loud voice over the PA system, balancing on Castle's thighs while his father hangs on to him by the waist.
"It's just a man, an announcer, Dash. He's up in that booth, way over there," Kate says, tapping Dashiell's shoulder and pointing towards the press box past Alexis's head. "See those windows?"
"Man?" Dashiell asks, actually following Kate's finger and line of sight.
Castle turns so that Dashiell has a better view. "And see, here comes the Cleveland Indians. That's the team we boo, Dash. Say, Boo! Boo, Indians."
"Mooooooo," Dash moos, grinning with delight when his family laughs.
"Boo," Castle corrects, laughing still. "It's Boo, with a B. Buh, buh."
"Buh, buh, buh!" Dash yells, proud of himself.
The announcer pauses as the Indians's team lines up along the visitor's side, all down the first base line, and then the Yankees come onto the field to a standing ovation, the crowd yelling, cheering, applauding on their feet.
Dash's wide eyes scan the crowd, and then the kid starts bouncing on his father's knees, so they stand as well, cheering for the Yankees as they take the field. Alexis has her phone in one hand, checking it every so often for more texts from Lofton.
As the announcer goes through the Yankees lineup, Dashiell keeps swinging his head around trying to find the source of that amazing voice, clapping himself every time someone applauds or cheers for a particular player.
Right before the announcer gets to Derek Jeter, Kate grabs Dash's attention, tugging on his foot. "Hey, Dash, watch." She puts two fingers in her mouth, waits for Jeter's name and position to be called, and then lets out a piercing whistle.
Dashiell crows in delight, immediately shoving a fist in his mouth and squealing, trying to imitate his mother's call. Castle and Alexis crack up, and Kate tries to teach him to purse his lips and blow instead of making high-pitched noises, but he keeps squealing instead. Dashiell 'whistles' for the rest of the team, beaming at his family after each successful screech.
Then the guys on the field stand at attention, take their hats off, and the announcer introduces the performer.
"Man! Man!"
"Yeah, he's telling us who's going to sing, Dash." Castle leans his face close to Dashiell's and points down at the field where a woman is clutching a microphone. The announcer asks everyone to stand for the national anthem, and the crowd grows mostly quiet.
"Man, man, Momma!"
"Shh, baby, that lady is going to sing," she says.
"See down there? on the field," Castle whispers, maneuvering Dash so he can see the field past the people in front of them. They are only about ten rows back, but with everyone standing, it makes it hard for Dash to get a good view of home plate.
Alexis is leaning the other direction; Kate follows her to get a better look. The entire stadium hushes as the woman begins singing, the team flags snapping overhead, the stars and stripes on display at the far end of the field by the scoreboard.
Castle is whispering in Dashiell's ear, pointing out the flag on the jumbotron, their cheeks close together. Kate watches Dash's face as he looks from the flag, to the people all around them, to the press box, to the field, taking in everything, so still and so alive, so *good.*
Then the ump yells, "Play ball!"
The crowd bursts into cheers, and the Yankees spread out across the baseball field, putting their hats back on, tightening their gloves as the pipe organ pounds out a charge. The Indians file back into the visitor's dugout, everyone milling around while a couple of people head to the pitcher's mound.
"Mommy! Ball! Ball!" Dash yells and leans across Castle to reach for her.
With a grin, Kate takes him, putting him on her hip between herself and Castle so he can see both the field and the crowd and the press box, his face alight. Everyone starts to regain their seats, and they follow suit; Kate pushes the BQ nachos further away so Dash can't get his hands on them.
The first pitch is thrown out by a Hall of Famer, Whitey Ford, a legendary pitcher for the Yankees, assisted by Reggie Jackson, another Hall of Fame former player. Kate sits up to watch the 82 year old man lay it in, glad to see it make it to the catcher's glove; her heart pounds as he waves to the crowd.
She turns back to Castle. "Oh my word, Castle. That was Whitey Ford. Did you know he'd be here?"
"I knew they'd brought back two Hall of Famers to throw out the first pitch."
She glances back to the field to watch Reggie Jackson lead Whitey off the field, her eyes following them. After a moment, she realizes that Dashiell is watching the two former players as well, and with almost just as much hunger in his eyes as hers.
"Whitey Ford was one of my Dad's heroes." Kate glances back to Castle. "All he talks about when he talks about Yankees baseball is Whitey Ford and Mickey Mantle, the two of them."
"Ford's a lefty, isn't he?"
"Yeah. He broke a ton of American League records at the time. Won the Cy Young Award in '61, and the World Series MVP that year too. Six time World Series Champion. Just amazing. I can't believe he was here."
Castle is grinning at her, like a fool, and she rolls her eyes and sits back to watch the Yankees's pitcher warm up. Castle snags one of her BBQ nachos and crunches into it, still grinning at her.
"Do we need to get you one of those playbooks so you can memorize everyone's stats?"
She shoots him another look, but then bites her lip. "My dad and I used to fil out the score cards together. I saw they still have those."
Castle's face goes from teasing to tender in two seconds. "Stay there. I'll go get you one."
"No, Castle, wait!"
But he's already jogging up the stairs to the concourse level, searching for a score card for her. She realizes her cheeks are hot and glances over at Alexis. Furious texting going on over there, no idea how utterly stupidly sweet her father is.
As the game gets underway, Kate glances down to the little boy still in her lap, amazed at how intensely he is focusing on the game, amazed that he's not whining for another hot dog or squirming to get down. He can't know anything about baseball, except for the games he's seen on television with them, and for those it wasn't like he was sitting still long enough for it to stick.
Castle comes back with the score card and a little golf-sized pencil, presents them with a flourish. Kate leans over and kisses his cheek, but he turns his head at the last minute and presses a hot kiss to her mouth. His tongue traces the roof of her mouth; his hand drags down her cheek, tangles in her hair. She clutches at Dashiell unconsciously, making him squirm and then shriek.
They break apart. Kate cuddles Dash, soothing the spot where her fingers pinched his arm, kissing the top of his head. Castle shifts in his seat, spreads the score card out on the table, starts filling in the names of the Indians's players along one side, flips it over to do the home team.
When she thinks she's got herself under control again, Kate reaches out and puts her hand on Castle's knee, smirking when he jumps.
"Thank you," she says softly when he glances over at her.
"Anything." And then he ducks his head, comes back up to meet her eyes with a sly grin. "Anything for a kiss like that." Then he looks past her to Dashiell, still sitting in her lap, completely unaware of his parents, completely entranced by the sight before him.
Dash follows the ball, every pitch, watches it pop up or ground out or bloop over the heads of the players. He watches the guys run, the players rocket the ball in from the outfield, or the third base coach give signs to the guy in the batter's box.
Kate glances back to Castle with a shrug. "Who knew?"
He laughs and slides the score card over to her. "Want to do this part? I'll take him."
She chews on her lip, shakes her head. "No, I got him. You fill it out."
"I kinda suck at it. I keep mixing up the numbers. Like, is the pitcher 1 or 2? And I know that a win is a W, so what is a walk?"
She smiles, lets it crack wide into a grin that touches him, causes an answering smile on his face. She laces her hand in his. "I'll tell you what to put. And a walk is BB, balls on base. Not a W, no. The pitcher is number 1, catcher 2, first baseman is 3, and so on."
"It's the 'so on' I have trouble with."
"We'll do it together. It'll be fun. Don't worry. I got your back, partner."
He grins at her and leans in to steal a kiss, catching the corner of her mouth. "Mm, BBQ nachos."
"Gross. Watch the game, Castle."
"Shhhh," Dashiell says suddenly, turning around to glare at his parents. "Ball, ball."
"Yes sir," Kate laughs.
"Slave driver," Castle grumbles, and gets a smack on the shoulder for his trouble. From Dash. Kate chooses not to correct him.
