[ Road Trip ]

[bestsellingego]

[ Set about a week after this. ]A white SUV with a ski rack rattling with gear makes a sudden, unsignaled turn into their lane. Castle checks the license plate, then glances excitedly at the paperwork in his lap, even as Beckett struggles to keep their squad car between the yellow lines

Comments

[fanofthegenre]

It's not that Beckett's been avoiding Castle. There just hasn't been a good opportunity for them to sit down for an extended period of time and discuss something that isn't related to this case. By the time Lanie had managed to give them all the relevant pre- and post-mortem information, most of their leads had either dried up or fizzled out, and this trip is riding high on Beckett's list of last resorts

[bestsellingego]

"How is it possible for you to have lived in New York City and never been to Le Cirque? I always thought that was part of the driver's license requirements, right after organ donation and 'Class A' handicaps." He watches a Benz zoom past the passenger side and has a moment of hope before he recognizes a New York plate and falls into a contemplative gloom.

"You want me to get you a table?" he asks. "You'll have to wear something slinky."

[fanofthegenre]

"You'd be surprised what I still haven't done," Beckett admits, her eyes occasionally flicking to the rearview mirror and then back towards the road in front of them. She turns on the radio, sets the volume dial on a lower setting as the faint strains of slow jazz come through the speakers.

"And if I don't own anything in the way of slinky, what? You'll send me another dress?"

She doesn't glance over, but the smirk is clear.

[bestsellingego]

He slides the papers from his lap and onto the dashboard, hunched over his elbow to lean closer to her side of the car. "Come on. I know that you're dying to know how I figured out your size."

[xeanco]

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