Hot Dogs and Phone Numbers (Castle and Beckett, missing scene from 1x01, PG)
{{I watched the pilot today, when Castle called Beckett on her cell phone, I wondered what had transpired in getting that information out of her. That thought turned into this.}}
“Yes, I’m sure I don’t want one, Castle,” Beckett insisted. Which was a lie; actually, she was starving, but there was something obnoxious about the way he was insisting and her growling stomach seemed a small price to pay for her pride.
Castle took the hot dog from the vendor and Beckett stared at it, running the tip of her tongue across her lip subconsciously. It seemed absurdly heaped with onions and mustard, and the size of it was nearly comical as Castle looked at it, as if he were strategically planning how to fit it in his mouth.
Shaking it off, Beckett crossed her arms and stared at him. He just looked at her innocently, and in silent response she rolled her eyes and started walking again. Castle paused for a minute, internally debating whether or not he should follow or eat. Apparently remembering that she wasn’t going to wait for him, he bolted forward to catch up.
“You know,” he said, “you really should give me your phone number.”
Her mouth fell open as she side-stepped another street vendor, nearly colliding with the corner of his cart. “You are unbelievable.”
“No, I don’t mean like that. Well, unless that’s what you want, Detective.”
They ended up stalled at a street corner, and Beckett stared at the Do Not Walk signal, realizing this was going to be the longest two minutes of her life.
“Why do you want my number?”
“We’re working together now. We’re a team.”
“We’re not a team.”
“I’m your... confidential informant.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. You’re a consultant.”
“I’m your consultant.”
“You don’t need my number.”
Castle huffed. His hot dog was still untouched, and the light was taking forever, and Beckett had no excuse to not look at him any longer. So she glanced at him sideways. He was giving her a look like she had just thrown dirt in his face.
“What if the killer comes after me next?” he whispered. “Who am I gonna call if I don’t have your number?”
“If a killer comes after you, you dial 911.”
“And wait on hold through that backlog? No way.”
Beckett grit her teeth, looked both ways, and bolted across the street.
Castle ran after her, losing a small clump of onions in the process.
Her car was in sight now. She just needed to get to the car, and then he would go to his car and hopefully by the time they met at the next destination, he’d drop the subject all together.
It was a perfect plan. And it all fell apart when he followed her to her car and hovered next to the passenger side door.
Beckett unlocked the driver’s side door. “Castle, where did you park?”
“I took a taxi.”
“Well, get another.”
“Why? It makes more sense just to ride with you. It’s going to take me a half hour to get a taxi here.”
Beckett smirked and pulled open the door. She stared at him over the top of the car. “Why don’t you put in a call to the mayor? Maybe he can get you one.”
She climbed inside and shut her door. And then, he started tapping on the window.
Beckett closed her eyes and counted to five. Very slowly. Then, with a sigh, she unlocked the doors.
Castle jumped in, the hot dog balanced precariously in his hands and she caught herself staring at it again. She really was hungry, and it was going to be a long day.
“Okay, here’s the deal,” she said, before he had a chance to open his mouth again. “No passenger seat driving. No turning up the radio, I don’t care how good the song is. As a matter of fact, don’t talk and don’t move.”
He was practically beaming at her and she just narrowed her eyes. She should have made him walk.
“And what about your phone number?” He shut the door and struggled to buckle his seat belt, the hot dog in his hand floating around the cabin of the car majestically.
Grasping the steering wheel, she sighed. Her stomach gurgled.
“You can have my cell number if you give me the hot dog.”
“I knew you were hungry! I offered to get you one!”
“Cell phone number, hot dog, Ricky. A deal’s a deal.”
He grinned at her, that impossible schoolboy grin that made her irrationally angry and also melted her heart, just a tiny bit, not that she would ever admit it.
“I can’t say I’ve ever had to barter for a girl’s number before, but it’s kind of a turn on.”
“Just give me the damn dog.”
“Touchy, touchy. Someone’s blood sugar is low.”
He passed her the hot dog, which she took and let hover under her nose for a moment. It had already cooled off, but the stiff aroma of onions and spicy mustard assaulted her senses in the most enchanting way possible, and she closed her eyes for a moment and sighed happily.
When she opened them again, he already had his cell phone out. She rattled off her number to him almost robotically, and then, strategically, took a bite out of the hot dog.
She chewed, enjoying the sensation of food in her mouth as her stomach settled. Castle continued to punch the buttons on his phone for longer than was probably necessary. Beckett knew why when her own phone chirped in her pocket, alerting her of a new text message. She glared at him and he smiled impishly.
“And now you have mine,” he said, and she knew she had made a mistake she could never take back.
One hand doing a balancing act with the hot dog, she used another to turn on her car and guide it out into the street. In her head, she knew this was a one time deal. But there was a niggling feeling in her gut that wasn’t just hunger. It was the annoying realization that there weren’t enough hot dogs and phone numbers in the world to put her in control of the man sitting next to her.
The most worrisome thing of all, however, was that she was starting to think she might like that.
“You know,” he chimed. “If you take 7th it will be a lot fast-”
“Shut up, Castle.” She stared at the road. It took every ounce of will not to smile.
“Yes, I’m sure I don’t want one, Castle,” Beckett insisted. Which was a lie; actually, she was starving, but there was something obnoxious about the way he was insisting and her growling stomach seemed a small price to pay for her pride.
Castle took the hot dog from the vendor and Beckett stared at it, running the tip of her tongue across her lip subconsciously. It seemed absurdly heaped with onions and mustard, and the size of it was nearly comical as Castle looked at it, as if he were strategically planning how to fit it in his mouth.
Shaking it off, Beckett crossed her arms and stared at him. He just looked at her innocently, and in silent response she rolled her eyes and started walking again. Castle paused for a minute, internally debating whether or not he should follow or eat. Apparently remembering that she wasn’t going to wait for him, he bolted forward to catch up.
“You know,” he said, “you really should give me your phone number.”
Her mouth fell open as she side-stepped another street vendor, nearly colliding with the corner of his cart. “You are unbelievable.”
“No, I don’t mean like that. Well, unless that’s what you want, Detective.”
They ended up stalled at a street corner, and Beckett stared at the Do Not Walk signal, realizing this was going to be the longest two minutes of her life.
“Why do you want my number?”
“We’re working together now. We’re a team.”
“We’re not a team.”
“I’m your... confidential informant.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. You’re a consultant.”
“I’m your consultant.”
“You don’t need my number.”
Castle huffed. His hot dog was still untouched, and the light was taking forever, and Beckett had no excuse to not look at him any longer. So she glanced at him sideways. He was giving her a look like she had just thrown dirt in his face.
“What if the killer comes after me next?” he whispered. “Who am I gonna call if I don’t have your number?”
“If a killer comes after you, you dial 911.”
“And wait on hold through that backlog? No way.”
Beckett grit her teeth, looked both ways, and bolted across the street.
Castle ran after her, losing a small clump of onions in the process.
Her car was in sight now. She just needed to get to the car, and then he would go to his car and hopefully by the time they met at the next destination, he’d drop the subject all together.
It was a perfect plan. And it all fell apart when he followed her to her car and hovered next to the passenger side door.
Beckett unlocked the driver’s side door. “Castle, where did you park?”
“I took a taxi.”
“Well, get another.”
“Why? It makes more sense just to ride with you. It’s going to take me a half hour to get a taxi here.”
Beckett smirked and pulled open the door. She stared at him over the top of the car. “Why don’t you put in a call to the mayor? Maybe he can get you one.”
She climbed inside and shut her door. And then, he started tapping on the window.
Beckett closed her eyes and counted to five. Very slowly. Then, with a sigh, she unlocked the doors.
Castle jumped in, the hot dog balanced precariously in his hands and she caught herself staring at it again. She really was hungry, and it was going to be a long day.
“Okay, here’s the deal,” she said, before he had a chance to open his mouth again. “No passenger seat driving. No turning up the radio, I don’t care how good the song is. As a matter of fact, don’t talk and don’t move.”
He was practically beaming at her and she just narrowed her eyes. She should have made him walk.
“And what about your phone number?” He shut the door and struggled to buckle his seat belt, the hot dog in his hand floating around the cabin of the car majestically.
Grasping the steering wheel, she sighed. Her stomach gurgled.
“You can have my cell number if you give me the hot dog.”
“I knew you were hungry! I offered to get you one!”
“Cell phone number, hot dog, Ricky. A deal’s a deal.”
He grinned at her, that impossible schoolboy grin that made her irrationally angry and also melted her heart, just a tiny bit, not that she would ever admit it.
“I can’t say I’ve ever had to barter for a girl’s number before, but it’s kind of a turn on.”
“Just give me the damn dog.”
“Touchy, touchy. Someone’s blood sugar is low.”
He passed her the hot dog, which she took and let hover under her nose for a moment. It had already cooled off, but the stiff aroma of onions and spicy mustard assaulted her senses in the most enchanting way possible, and she closed her eyes for a moment and sighed happily.
When she opened them again, he already had his cell phone out. She rattled off her number to him almost robotically, and then, strategically, took a bite out of the hot dog.
She chewed, enjoying the sensation of food in her mouth as her stomach settled. Castle continued to punch the buttons on his phone for longer than was probably necessary. Beckett knew why when her own phone chirped in her pocket, alerting her of a new text message. She glared at him and he smiled impishly.
“And now you have mine,” he said, and she knew she had made a mistake she could never take back.
One hand doing a balancing act with the hot dog, she used another to turn on her car and guide it out into the street. In her head, she knew this was a one time deal. But there was a niggling feeling in her gut that wasn’t just hunger. It was the annoying realization that there weren’t enough hot dogs and phone numbers in the world to put her in control of the man sitting next to her.
The most worrisome thing of all, however, was that she was starting to think she might like that.
“You know,” he chimed. “If you take 7th it will be a lot fast-”
“Shut up, Castle.” She stared at the road. It took every ounce of will not to smile.