Not Another Word

"You've been here before, haven't you?" Castle said, with a smirk.

"What? No," Beckett shook her head. "Why would you say that?"

"Before I tell you, do you want to rethink your answer?"

"I told you. I've never been here before."

"Then why," Castle asked, pausing to grin at her, "Is there a photo of you eating the biggest taco I've ever seen in my life?"

Beckett froze. Her eyes held a terror that only a deer on the road before a speeding car could likewise possess. Her arms were still by her sides, her fingers stiff, as if caught in mid-action.

"You sure look like you were having a good time," he mused, clearly enjoying his new ammo for torturing her with. "The sauce on your chin is cute."

She finally came to herself and glared at him. "Funny, Castle. Now, can we get on with the case?"

"No, I think we owe this a moment's consideration before we go on."

"Oh, really? In that case, I can think of a few places I'll stick one of their tacos if they still make them," she hissed back. "Want to find out?"

"Great idea! I'll order us a couple." He wandered away from her and began to talk in hushed tones with one of the waiters.

"Castle," Beckett said, joining him as the waiter left. "I don't think this is our guy."

"I know."

"You know? How?"

"I've known since the precinct."

Beckett glared at him. "Then what are we doing here?"

He studied her a moment, and then offered a sheepish grin. "Tacos?"

"Of course."

"I didn't realise we'd get entertainment with the food, though," he said, gesturing at the photo of her.

"Shut up, Castle."

"Soon as those tacos arrive, you won't hear another word from me."