The cold's part of the reason she's back to her normal alertness, and she shoulders her bag, jamming her bare hands into the pockets of her coat to keep warm as a cutting burst of wind picks up. Beckett waits for Castle on the curb and catches snippets of his conversation with their driver, but the wind makes it impossible to hear everything and she gives up trying.
She takes a step to the cart, blinking under the fluorescence, and the smell alone renews her hunger. Nothing does that quite like a New York City hot dog, Beckett thinks.
"Ketchup and mustard on mine, thanks."
She reaches out for it when it's ready, grateful for the heat that permeates through the small white-and-red checkered container against her chilled fingers. Beckett's hungrier than she even realized; she takes a bite before Castle's even done ordering his.
no subject
She takes a step to the cart, blinking under the fluorescence, and the smell alone renews her hunger. Nothing does that quite like a New York City hot dog, Beckett thinks.
"Ketchup and mustard on mine, thanks."
She reaches out for it when it's ready, grateful for the heat that permeates through the small white-and-red checkered container against her chilled fingers. Beckett's hungrier than she even realized; she takes a bite before Castle's even done ordering his.