[Edit 13/July/2018]: This story was written years ago, and I no longer advocate the consumption and/or purchase of animal products. I had always planned to continue this piece, but for those reasons, it will remain incomplete. Even if you don't agree with my position, I hope you'll understand - Cofkett

First chapter follows the end scene of The Third Man.

10:02pm, January 28, 2010

Precinct

Beckett twirled her hair around her finger as she and Castle walked arm in arm to the elevator.

"So how did your date go?" she asked him.

"It was kind of boring. Didn't talk much."

Beckett made a noise of disgust.

"Mr. July?" he inquired as the elevator dinged.

"Little self-absorbed."

"Looked it."

"Really?" she asked as they entered.

"Could tell."

"Some people just don't know how to behave on a date."

Beckett pressed the button.
"Especially on a first date," she said in agreement.

"Exactly," Castle said as the doors closed.

There were no booths at Remy's. Only tables. There weren't any for two, but thankfully, given the late hour and subsequent lack of customers, they didn't need one. Beckett was grateful as they sat down at a table for four. It made it seem less like a date.

"I'll get a cheeseburger with extra pickles, large curly fries and a blue moon milkshake," Castle said.

"And I'll have a Boris Burger, small fries and a strawberry milkshake."

"Ok, no problem," said the server, who left.

Castle raised his eyebrows as he removed his jacket and put it on his chair.

"What?" Beckett asked.

"Who's Boris?" he inquired as he placed his now folded tie in his pocket.

"Nobody. It's just the name of the burger. Lean beef on a sesame seed bun, barbeque sauce, cos lettuce, fresh tasty cheddar, tomato and onions."

"Why is it called a Boris burgrer?"

Beckett shrugged.

"I don't know. I just know I like it."

"You never asked for the story behind the name?"

"No. Does it matter?"

"The story always matters, Beckett. Have I taught you nothing?"

Beckett smiled and shook her head.
"Guess not. What will you do with me, Castle?"

Castle smiled back.
"I have a few ideas."

"And I have a few bullets in my gun."

Castle grinned and looked around, deciding a change of subject would be best.
"I love this place."

"Me, too," Beckett said, a warm tone in her voice.

"How long have you been coming here?" Castle asked.

"Since I started working at the twelfth," Beckett said.

"Same," Castle said. "I mean, since I started shadowing you. I love old places like this."

Beckett shrugged.

"I don't really care either way. It's cheap, close to work and and the food's good. Plus it's a cop bar, so we don't get a lot of trouble. It's a nice place to unwind."

Their orders arrived.

"Oh, great," Beckett sighed.

"Thank you," Castle said. "May I ask why it's called the Boris Burger?"

He shrugged.
"You can ask but you won't get an answer. The chef who created it passed away twenty years ago. We get that question sometimes. No one knows."

"This chef... was his name Boris?"

"Geoffrey. Sorry."

Castle sighed.
"It's ok."

The server left.

"Hey, cheer up, Castle. Some things are supposed to remain a mystery."

Castle inclined his head.
"Well, I won't argue with that."

"Really? Don't you have a compulsion to solve every mystery?"

"No, not every mystery. What I like is the process. Allowing the story to unfold before you, putting all the pieces together. But sometimes that ending isn't always... satisfying. Which is why I never tried to find my father."

Beckett blinked. The conversation had suddenly gone to a place she hadn't expected; but he was opening up to her and as awkward as it was, she liked it. Richard Castle was famously fatherless, that was public knowledge, but she didn't know the details.

Castle bit into his burger.

"Mm, this is good." He swallowed.
"I don't know his name. I don't know where he's from, if he's still alive, if he knows about me. He was a one-night stand."

It was seldom that he dropped his facade to reveal something real about himself, and Beckett hadn't even noticed her own hand slide across the table to graze his fingers.

Castle met her half way, squeezing her hand gently.

"I like living with the mystery. It 's part of what's made me who I am. I think being raised by a strong single mother has helped me be a better father to Alexis."

"You are a good father, Castle. It's one of the things I like about you."

He looked up at her.
"There are things you like about me?"

"Castle, how old are we? Yes, there are things I like about you. We're friends, aren't we? I told you just a couple of weeks ago, I don't mind having you around. You just need to learn your place."

Castle leaned over the table, so close she could feel his warm breath on her skin as he stared at her with those penetrating blue eyes that looked straight through her.

"And what is my place, Detective?"

Her cheeks grew hot.
She pushed down the frisson of electricity bubbling inside her and met his gaze, smiling nonchalantly.

"Well, I can't tell you that. You have to learn it for yoursef. Eat your cheeseburger."

"Gladly. Mm," he said taking another bite, his voice muffled as he talked with his mouth open. "So good."

"I'm surprised your mother didn't teach you table-manners, Castle."

"Oh, she taught me; I just feel comfortable with you."

"What an honour."

"Hey, at least I don't squat in other people's houses. That's taking rudeness to a whole new level."

"Mickey was harmless."

"I know. I liked the guy; but still, a stranger in your home, sleeping in your bed, bathing naked in your shower..." He shuddered.

"Hopefully, he'll be able to turn his life around."

"You think he will?"

"I think he has a good chance. It's actually one of my favourite parts of the job. Going to the grocery store and seeing someone I picked up for petty theft when I was a beat cop making an honest living bagging vegetables; getting a call lletting me know a drug addict I testified for so she would go to rehab instead of jail is still clean after five years."

"What happened to 'people don't change'?"

"They don't. Fundamentally. But sometimes even good people make mistakes, go down the wrong path. Mickey just needs to find the right one. He's the kind of person my Mom used to represent. He doesn't need to change; he just needs someone to show him a better way."

Castle smiled.
"You looked up to your mother."

She nodded.
"Still do. She was the best person I ever knew." She cleared her throat wiped her mouth with her napkin.
"Well, it's getting late - "

"Do you want to split a cab?"

She almost laughed.
"My apartment's twenty blocks in the other direction from yours."

"I can pay the full cab fare."

She shook her head, beaming.
"That's sweet. But I have a ride."

"Oh," Castle said, trying to seem unaffected. "Someone I know?"

"Not a someone; a something. It's in the underground parking lot of the precinct."

"You have a car?"

She smiled and gathered up her dress as she stood up.
"Goodnight, Castle," she said, walking off into the night, leaving him gaping after her. He didn't need to know about her Harley yet. She would save that for later. She had shared quite enough of herself with him for one night. Besides, it was always so much more fun to leave him guessing.