*Um, so yeah, this is my first foray into the super-meta world that is Nikki Heat fanfic. Originally posted this on tumblr. I'm posting this in with the Castle fics b/c I don't know where else to put it and it probably wouldn't get found/read anywhere else. So yeah...anyway, set after the events of Deadly Heat (though I don't know the exact events, not being psychic lol) b/c I wanted that drama to be separate from this story. Happy Reading!

(Rook)

Rook stepped off the elevator on Nikki's floor, making his way to her door as quickly and quietly as he could. He winced as his keys clattered loudly when he pulled them out of his pocket. He held his breath as he inserted his (new!) key and turned the lock, determined to not wake Mrs. Pearlmeyer. The little old lady was sweet as pie during the day, but heaven forbid anyone make a significant amount of noise after 10 pm. Which, incidentally, was the reason Nikki had been spending a majority of her nights at his loft over the past few months. Well, that and he was working up the courage to ask her to move in with him and was trying to subtly show her all the wonders that his loft afforded (the most appealing of those being no little old lady neighbors that would file noise complaints if they got a little too...enthusiastic).

He slipped through the door, closing it as softly as he could manage. The apartment was devoid of any light or activity, and Rook sagged against the door in the darkness, jet lag finally hitting him. He rubbed at the knots in his upper back that he could reach, muttering curses upon anyone that had been involved with sending him to Nicaragua for six weeks.

His gaze turned towards Nikki's bedroom, as seemingly dark and silent as the rest of the apartment. She'd been softer, more open since that serial killer had come after her and almost ended both their lives. Rook stifled a chuckle at the memory of her reaction to his latest assignment. Nikki had pouted, actually pouted, when he told her he'd be gone for at least two months. He'd teased her mercilessly for a few minutes until she'd buried her face in his chest and mumbled that she didn't like him being gone for one week, let alone eight.

And now here they both were, separated only by one dark hallway. Sick with the flu, she'd resisted his mother's efforts to keep her at the loft, protesting that she didn't want to infect anyone else. His guess was that it had less to do with her concerns over his mother's health, and more with the fact that she hated being coddled, babied, or taken care of in any form.

After a few minutes, mere memories of Nikki weren't enough to sustain him. He had to see her, touch her, hold her for himself. Rook toed off his shoes, tossed his jacket down on top of them, and made his way down the hall, shedding clothes as he went until he was standing in the doorway to her bedroom in just his undershirt and boxers.

She was curled up on top of the covers in the middle of the bed. She had a pillow clutched to her chest, and the only form of pajamas he could see was an over-sized t-shirt that he was pretty sure had gone missing from his drawer ages ago.

He tiptoed across the room and crawled into bed gently, trying not to wake her. He brushed her dark hair away from her face, earning the little snuffling noise that she denied existed. He watched her nose scrunch up when he tugged the pillow out of her grasp, and he pulled her into his arms before she could miss it. Nikki settled into his chest, her breath evening out with a tiny sigh.

He figured that her illness must have wiped her out completely. Any other night, she'd have been awake the second he closed the front door, padding out to meet him with a smile and a kiss (even more likely, she would still be awake, just getting home from the precinct). But tonight he held her, watched her sleep for a good half hour before her eyes fluttered open.

"Rook...hi," she murmured, a sleepy smile stretching across her face.

"Hi yourself," he replied, pressing a kiss to her forehead, checking for a fever. Her temperature seemed normal, but, then again, she was sleeping with no blankets in the middle of October. "You feelin' okay?"

"'m fine," she assured him, her smile widening. "You're home."

"I'm home," he repeated, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "You sure you're okay?" he asked. "My mother gave the impression that you were pretty sick..."

Nikki nuzzled against him, pressed her lips to his collarbone. "About that..." she started, "I may have possibly lied to your mom about being...sick."

Rook frowned in confusion. "So, wait...you don't have the flu?" he asked slowly.

"Not exactly," she replied, biting her lip. "Rook..." She paused for a moment, let out a shaky breath. "Jamie...I'm pregnant."