Title: Here Comes Trouble - Part 1
Fandom & Pairing: Nikki & Nora
Author: Silk
Disclaimers: Not Mine. Rating - M
Comments: Based on the best TV pilot never aired: "Nikki & Nora", which you can find on YouTube. This is the first story in my "Trouble" series.

My Grandfather, a beat cop, had what he liked to call his 'trouble radar' and he always claimed that it never was wrong. It wouldn't matter where he was or what he was doing, if he got that shiver up his back he knew trouble was coming.

Dad had it too and it helped him on the force, but he always said that that only time it had ever failed him was when he met my mother. Since she ended up having 4 boys and me, the 1 girl, I could understand why he thought that.

Out of all those children, only two of us joined the "family" business, the NOPD, something for which my mother was thankful. I knew she stayed up worrying for me and Bobby more nights than she had for Daddy, but I loved being on the job.

Of all my brothers and I, only I inherited the "radar" and I was thankful that I had, since it had saved my skin more than a few times.

And now here I was, in the squad room sitting at my desk contemplating my former partner's promotion and who he might saddle me with for a replacement. I was weighing the pros and cons of a "good ole boy" vs. a "golden boy", which meant a fast rising, newly promoted to detective, barely long enough for the paint to dry on his shield boy. Just off the beat and into plainclothes.

Of course that's when it hit me. A long, slow shiver runs up my back to lodge in the small hairs at the base of my skull. Since I knew from experience that "trouble" didn't necessarily mean bodily harm, I took a long slow look around the room. Nothing unusual, I thought.

And then my eyes hit her and stayed there.

From her Italian leather boots to her salon-styled straight dark brown hair, she reeked of money. But not new money and the brash and flashy attitude that went with it. No she was old money, comfortable in her skin and looking at home wherever she was, whether at a garden party drinking bourbon on the rocks or in a squad room full of dirty-eyed cops who knew they didn't have a chance in hell with her, but would be fantasizing tonight about her while making love with with their wives.

Trouble on two long legs with a gold badge hooked to her belt on the left, across from the Glock on her right hip.

Trouble with manicured nails and a sway to her walk that most women took years to affect, and which I somehow knew was wholly natural to her.

Trouble with a dazzling and knowing smile that told you that yes indeed she knew what you were thinking and at the same time was as warm and comforting as a balmy summer's evening.

Trouble with dark brown eyes the color of Belgian chocolates...that were looking straight at me.

Trouble...shit, whoever she was, she wasn't just trouble. She was TROUBLE in capitals with an emphasis on "going to hell with a smile on your face".

I stood up to greet her as she made her way to my desk, eyeing the empty one that faced mine for a moment with interest before meeting my eyes again.

Holding her hand out her smile got even brighter, "Nikki Beaumont. Newly assigned to Special Crimes."

I reached out and enveloped her hand with mine. Not too hard, not soft. She met it with just the same kind of force. Comfortable. Not competing with the boys in strength and yet more confident than most women give.

"Nora Delaney. Welcome to the club," I couldn't help but smile back. I don't have the winning smile she does, but I did my best.

She released my hand and I gestured towards Dan's office. "Dan...The Lieutenant isn't in right now. He stepped out for a cup of coffee." I nodded towards the far corner with its mini-kitchenette complete with industrial sized coffee maker.

"A word of advice. Stay away from the brew in here. It's good enough for the old timers, but if you have any sort of taste for real coffee, drinking what passes for coffee in here will ruin your taste buds in outside a week." "Duly noted." She stepped closer, leaning back against the side of the empty desk. "Delaney. Any relation to Tom Delaney?"

"My father," I replied. In this city, if you were a cop or knew cops, you knew Tom Delaney. 30 years on the force and retired. A good cop by everyone's opinion. Me, I was prejudiced and thought he was a great cop, but even better dad.

"Good man, my daddy thought well of him."

I couldn't help my eyebrow from lifting in question.

A look of self-sufferance crossed her face, which surprised me. Maybe she was used to everyone knowing who she was and who her father was.

"Arthur Beaumont." The smile didn't leave her, but became almost defensive, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Well, at least I could be comforted by the fact that my well-honed detective skills were right on the money when it came to her. One look and I had pegged her for old money. Bingo.

"Councilman Beaumont?" I asked, although I already knew the answer.

She nodded. "Don't worry though, Detective. I still put my silk pantyhose on one leg at a time."

Her eyes twinkled at my sudden bark of laughter.

TBC