Hi everyone! So basically, this is a "crossover" between Richard Castle's two most famous book series', in which Derrick Storm meets Nikki Heat in a pub. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own the Castle series (credit for that goes to the brilliant Andrew Marlowe and Terri Edda Miller), the Heat franchise, Storm franchise, or any of the characters

Ring, ring

The soft ringing of the doorbell was set as Derrick Storm pushed open the door to his favourite pub. The Club Noir was always home to him after his long days as a private investigator. Usually it was relatively empty at this time of night, besides Ricardo, of course. Ricardo was New York's finest bartender. He was fantastic at mixing and listening at the same time.

But tonight, he was graced with the company of a beautiful woman. She looked like she'd just stepped out of the 1940s, which made his old-fashioned brown suit feel justified. She wore a long black dress that had a slit up to her thigh, showing off her oh-so-fabulous legs. Her red-painted lips were parted slightly as she sat, staring into the distance. Her white gloves were so perfectly pristine that it looked like she'd just bought them on site. A white scarf was draped casually over her shoulders, but even though it was placed strategically to hide it, Derrick Storm saw the gun sticking out of the edge of the scarf. She was easily enough to take the matter of Agent Clara Strike off of his mind.

Clara Strike… he did not like to think of that name. After he "died", he'd heard that she went into a deep depression. After all, she had been his lover. Jedidiah Jones refused to let her in on the stunt. Even though Mr. Jones had helped him very much, he still resented him for forcing him to keep his life from those he loved.

"Can I buy you a drink?" Her soft New York accent rose feelings in him he hadn't felt in a long time. She snapped him back out of his thoughts. He chuckled softly.

"Nah." She looked mildly disappointed, until he spoke again. "I'm buying. What do you drink?"

She smiled back at him. "Triple whiskey." He raised his eyebrows in mock shock. Triple whiskey was usually a man's drink, but he wasn't exactly expecting the fem fatale to drink an appletini. He nodded at Ricardo, and held up two fingers. The young woman brushed her long, wavy brown hair out of her pale face, her brown eyes searching Derrick Storm.

"What's you're name, sir?" She looked at him penetratingly. He opened his mouth to give his alias, Steve Mason, but something held him back. While she was hiding a gun, he felt as though he could trust her.

"Storm. Derrick Storm." She nodded softly, as though she'd heard the name. "And yours, Miss…" She smiled, with a soft laugh following.

"It's Detective, actually. Detective Nikki Heat."

"Well, Detective Heat, I must say, it's been a pleasure getting to know you." After hours of drinks with the mysterious Derrick Storm, Nikki Heat felt as though she was finally getting to know him, and she wasn't just ready for him to leave yet. Her upper lip rose in her signature smile, showing off her pearly white teeth. He let out a smile as well, though it was much larger.

He rose out of his seat, and began to walk towards the door in a stumble. While he seemed to come here a lot, he wasn't nearly as able to hold his liquor as she was. He reminded her quite a bit of her "partner", Jameson Rook. Looked quite a bit like him, too. He had that general lightheartedness about him, but one could tell just by looking at him that he bore a great burden of sorrow. He gave her that same tingle that ran down her body whenever he made eye contact with her.

"Oh, don't be a spoilsport. It's only eleven." She smiled again, and placed her hand strategically on his arm. She'd seduced countless men in this way, yet this time it felt different. It felt almost real. He smiled again, his eyes squinting as he returned back to his seat. "So… you said you were a… private investigator?" She'd always had a thing for private investigators, ever since a case she worked about a diamond necklace that was stolen by a private investigator. Reading the PI's journal, she'd almost imagined Rook was the PI and she was his girl. She chided herself inwardly. She'd only come here to forget about Rook, and that was precisely the opposite of what she was doing.

"Why yes, I believe I am. And you were one of NYPD's finest." She nodded softly, pulling her badge out from where it was strapped around her thigh. She showed it to him and he smiled again. She supposed he had a thing for detectives. "So, why'd you become a detective?" Before Nikki could stop herself, she let everything flow out.

"My mother was murdered, while I was on my way to the store. We didn't have enough cinnamon. I was on the phone with her, when I heard a noise and then she dropped the phone. She was dead when I arrived back at home." She made a small choking noise, and Derrick Storm welcomed her into a hug. She buried her face into his deep blue shirt, and he put his chin on her forehead, wrapping his arms around her lightly. Even she was surprised at his forwardness. He pulled back fast, and in a very gentlemanly way. She smiled at him and returned to her seat. He was kind enough to avoid the topic of anything murder-related for the rest of the evening.

"I'm sorry, guys, but pub's closing. I'm going to have to ask you to leave." Derrick Storm had forgotten that Ricardo was there. He'd been so wrapped up in Nikki Heat's stories that he'd lost track of the time. It was nearly 2 in the morning, which was way later than he had planned to stay. He'd told his mother, Margaret, that he'd be home by midnight. Oh how she must be worried, he though mockingly to himself. He stood up cordially, and offered his arm to Nikki. She took it gracefully with a smile. He escorted her outside, to find their cars parked on the street. He walked her to the drivers side door of her black Chevy, and she removed his arm from hers.

"I will see you again, okay?" He smiled again, his eyes squinting in the way that turned many a woman on.

"Okay, Mr. Storm. I'll see you again."

He leaned down and pressed his lips into hers, as a token of farewell, and then he elegantly strode back to his car in merriment.