Silver and Gold: Part Two
A Christmas story, in which Castle and Becket from Silver and Gold (canon compliant) are experiencing the Christmas season of 2021, just as we all are. (It might be helpful to have read Silver and Gold, but it's not necessary.) You will have questions; allow the story to unfold in its small pleasures, and it is my hope that as you find answers to Castle and Beckett's questions, you might find some answers to your own this season.
—-xxx—-
Mr. Castle,
I feel I should share with you what happened to me on Monday morning; somehow I think you were responsible… the spark that started this whole chain of events. You should know.
Sincerely,
Margaret Rose Peterson
excerpt from a letter, December 2014, Silver and Gold
—-xxx—-
Kate pulls down the dish washer door and uses a foot to yank out the bottom rack while the water runs in the sink. She nearly drops the plate when she hears the baby's voice crying sharply, but she manages to recover, sliding the plate into its spot with the others. She dries her hands and takes two steps away from the kitchen island, an ear cocked—
She hears giggles, and Rick's low tones, and she's reassured.
Kate returns to the sink, quickly finishes rinsing the plates, trying not to use too much water. Conscious of the waste, never getting it back again, the next generation having to suffer through—two years ago, Hawaii wasn't even—and then the bomb cyclone when they were in Vancouver visiting Haley—
"Mikey!"
She grins, closes the dish washer as she hears her name being called. Castle saying call her again.
"Mikey, Mikey, Mikey!"
Kate presses the smile flat and dries off her hands, moves at a sedate pace towards what she sarcastically refers to as the 'baby palace', and she meets them as they come through the dining room. No dining table here now; the glass was dangerous with this one.
Castle holds Mia in his arms, the two-year old bundled in a bear-hooded towel after her bath. Her eyes are dark jewels, lips a rosebud, and her black hair curls just under the towel. She reaches out from Castle, hands in that gimme gimme gesture. "Mikey, me."
"And what do I get?" Kate keeps a distance, eyebrow raised, while Castle tickles and teases Mia's toes. "Hm? If I take you from the tickle monster, what do I get?"
Mia giggles and claps both hands to her mouth, blows a kiss.
"That's it," Kate praises, reaching back for Mia and taking her into her arms. She gets a warm-wet kiss on her ear for it. "Hey, my girl, you ready for bedtime?"
"Ai, ai, Mikey."
Kate glances to Rick, tilts her head to the wine fridge. He nods, shifts past her to get them glasses, the bottle from this weekend (she hopes). "Hey, did Alexis say how late?"
"Pulling a double."
Kate grimaces. No bedtime call tonight then.
"Momma?"
Shit. "No, baby, just me and Pops. Aaaand, bedtime!" Kate distracts the girl as best as possible, heading back along the hall towards the stairs once more. She scratches Mia's head through the towel, tugging it down to reveal her dark curls. "Momma is working in LA, remember?"
"Help people."
Helping herself more like. "She's helping people," Kate repeats, climbing the ridiculously ornate flight of stairs to the rooms above. When Alexis left her with them, they wanted Mia upstairs close to their room. "You're gonna sleep in your rainbow room tonight."
"Yay!"
Kate sets her down as she wriggles to get free on the top landing, plucks the towel away so the naked baby can go squealing down the hall, curls bouncing on her head. Kate laughs and tosses the damp towel towards the laundry room, following along behind her into the nursery.
What would have been a nursery, what's now Mia's 'grandparents' night' bedroom (grandparents' year?), painted in an ombre effect of purple cascading to washed out blue. Mia calls it the rainbow room, even though the ROY and G are missing from the spectrum.
Kate steps inside, laying a hand on the door frame to steady herself. It's been six years since they lost the baby, but every time she comes over the threshold she has flashbacks to bleeding out on the floor of the kitchen loft, feeling the life drain away, not knowing but somehow knowing—nothing would ever be the same.
"Mikey, read!"
Kate surfaces with effort, catching the book that's chucked towards her before she can get another bruised shin. "Mia, no throwing books," she chastises, the reflexive admonishment pulling her to the girl's side. She plucks the lego toddler blocks from Mia's fingers and lays them on top of the dresser. "Time for pajamas. What color, mustard or saffron?" Kate tugs the drawer open and dishes out the yellow long johns with the orange ducks on them. "Hm?"
"I not know."
"Fooled you, little squirt; they're the same." Kate tosses the yellow-orange pair on top of Mia's head and she giggles, grabbing for them. "And where is your diaper—"
"Pull up."
"My egregious error," Kate says, going to the changing table. There are two more pull-ups left; they'll have to add it to the grocery order. No exchanges this time; Mia won't deign to wear the diapers any longer. She squats down before the squirming, humming girl. "Here, help me out, kiddo. What are you singing?"
Mia puts her hands on Kate's shoulders, still humming, but louder, and with that hilarious crooked smirk she has when she thinks she's being funny.
Kate only shakes her head and pulls on the pull ups, which will be soaked by morning, but everyone has regressed these last two years. Lockdown was a bitch, and the pandemic hasn't ended, just sputters on in fits and starts, blooming here and there like algae in a reflecting pool.
She's trying not to worry about Alexis in LA.
"Mikey."
"Hm?"
"Singing Mona."
"Moana? Are you now?"
"She like me."
"She is," Kate hummed, kissing Mia's nose as she pulls up the yellow duck pants. She gives Mia an extra little tug at the waist and the girl nearly comes off her feet, giggling. "She's brown like you. And strong like you. And silly like you. Now get your shirt on, Moana-Mia, time for a book."
"Five."
"One," Kate says.
"Or may-he five?"
"No maybe, no discussion," Kate returns, tugging the shirt over her head. When Mia's face pops through, the girl says peekaboo and it's nearly cute enough to have Kate buckle on her 'one book' policy.
But no. One book. Otherwise the kid is a monster. This is why Kate does bedtimes alone; Castle can't handle the heat.
"Okay, in bed. I pick."
"Oooh." Mia goes running, launching herself at the toddler bed with entirely too much energy for nine o'clock at night. Castle tries to play her out in the bath after dinner, and Kate gets a nice long quiet time doing dishes and putting away their leftovers, but tonight (most nights) it doesn't seem like it worked.
Kate plucks the longer Go Dog Go from the bookshelf and Mia beams with pleased expectation as Kate returns. The toddler scoots down into her covers and curls an arm around a stuffed bear with one missing eye, turns her body into Kate's thigh.
Kate leans back against the slatted former crib wall of the toddler bed, letting out a slow, practiced breath as she lays a hand on Mia's head.
Soft warm baby body curls up next to her; Mia's thumb-sucking which Kate gently stops. "Pops will put the yucky stuff on it again," she warns.
Mia hides her thumb away and presses her face into Kate's thigh.
"Are you ready to read with me?" Kate says, jostling her a little. "Go Dog Go. One of your favorites."
Mia lifts her head and reaches out with that damp thumb to press the cover of the book, each word, as she recites from memory, "Go Dog Go by PD Eastman."
And then they begin to read.
—-xxx—-