In From The Cold

Chapter 3
Pretty Woman

Rick Castle felt a spark the instant their hands touched. His eyes jerked up to meet hers. She'd felt it too. He didn't know how he knew, but he did. She slowly withdrew her hand, and smiled softly. He smiled back, feeling his pulse quicken just a bit. It had been a while since he'd felt such an instant attraction towards someone. Yes, Nicole Brennon was hot—like supermodel runway hot—but there was more to it than that. There was something in her soft brown eyes, a keen intelligence and fierceness that he found utterly intriguing. There was also a sadness there. It was hidden well, but he could see it all the same.

It was very reminiscent of what he had seen in Detective Kate Beckett upon their first face-to-face conversation in the Twelfth Precinct interrogation room. Beckett had thought he was such an asshole—and to be honest, he kind of was back then—yet, even then, he'd managed to stun her with his too-close-for-home observations. She hadn't liked it. But he'd been right. It took him a little while longer, wearing her defenses down, until he had discovered just how right he'd been.

"—books. Amazing. Congratulations," Nicole was saying.

"Huh?" Castle snapped out of his thoughts, jerking his head up to glance at his drinking companion. "Sorry?"

She laughed at his bewildered expression. "On the book," she elaborated, gesturing to the massive cover art posters hanging on the wall. There were several scattered throughout the ballroom, including blowups of covers from the previous Nikki Heat novels. "Congratulations. Six books. That's pretty impressive."

"Thanks," he said with a nod, taking another drink of his scotch. "James Patterson would disagree with you, but thanks all the same. You a fan?"

Nicole shifted on her feet, ducking her head down, almost bashfully. "I'd like to deny it, but yes, I am," she admitted, blushing moderately. "Very much." She placed a tentative hand on his arm. He looked down at the contact, surprised at how right it felt. "Nikki Heat, she's an amazing character; strong and fierce, yet also vulnerable. She's… I don't know… she's just so real. That's difficult to capture, but you managed to do it so wonderfully."

Castle bobbed his head in gratitude for the acknowledgments. "I try my best," he said. "In truth, I owe a lot to someone else."

"Who?" Nicole asked, letting her hand fall away.

He pursed his lips, finding he missed her touch. Odd. "My muse," he revealed with a rueful grin, allowing himself to feel the regret and grief over everything that had—and hadn't—happened with Kate Beckett. "She was an extraordinary woman. Nikki Heat is all her. Well, not all of it," he added with a chuckle. "Some of it came from my imagination. But yeah," he bobbed his head, looking off into space. "A lot of it is her."

Nicole nodded thoughtfully. "She must be honored."

Castle laughed, loud and long, drawing confused looks from some of the other partygoers in the vicinity. "Nah," he shook his head, glancing down at his nearly empty glass of scotch. "I don't know if you'd say she was particularly honored. She hated the name. Thought it sounded like a stripper name."

"Well, to be fair, it does," Nicole interjected, biting her lower lip, suppressing a laugh.

The gesture was so familiar that Castle instantly sobered. His brow furrowed as he gazed across at the blonde woman next to him. He was struck once again at the striking resemblance Nicole Brennon shared with the late Kate Beckett. It was a little freaky how similar the two looked in appearance.

But Castle shrugged it off. He'd been the unfortunate victim of mistaken identity himself. For some inane reason, a certain quantity of people kept mistaking him for the actor Nathan Fillion. Castle could never understand why. Sure, they both were ruggedly handsome, but beyond that they were entirely different people.

So, the fact that Kate Beckett had a living doppelgänger wasn't really too much of a stretch, when he thought about it. Nicole Brennon had just been gifted with amazing genetics, just like the actor that shared his strapping good looks.

"Still," Nicole said. "I'm sure, if anything, she was flattered. I know I'd be, if an author like yourself ever decided to write a book about me."

Castle chuckled, cocking his head to the side as he looked at her. "Is that an offer?" he waggled his eyebrows.

Nicole shook her head, her blonde curls bouncing majestically around her beautiful face. She tilted her head back and adjusted her glasses. "Maybe," she replied with a wiry smirk.

Castle raised his eyebrows in surprise. He'd only been half-joking with the innuendo. He had not expected her to see through it, or respond in the manner in which she had. Castle swallowed and glanced away, not sure what to think or feel. Weeks earlier, he had sworn off hooking up with random women, intent on moving on from his grief over Beckett's loss. He'd decided, instead, to find a woman with whom he could have a real relationship with, not one with whom all he shared was one night, immensely pleasurable as it may be. He glanced back up at Nicole, who was watching earnestly, patiently waiting him out.

"I…," his voice trailed off, finding himself tongue-tied. He was rarely at a loss for words. No other woman, save for late Kate Beckett, had ever made him so speechless.

"Mr. Castle?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Please, call me Rick," he asserted, shaking off his lingering thoughts and focusing on what was right in front of him: A beautiful living and breathing woman, who was showing an interest in him.

"All right, Rick," she smiled warmly. Oh, he liked that. He liked that a lot. He liked the sound of his name rolling off her tongue. Nicole shifted, turning towards the mixologist, gesturing for a refill of her scotch. She looked back at Castle. "I remember reading somewhere that you shadowed real detectives for research. Is that true?"

Castle bobbed his head, grinning. "Yes, it is," he said, puffing out his chest. "Not to boast or anything, but I was instrumental in solving some rather high profile cases."

"Were you now?" Nicole questioned, teasing, her lips quirked upwards as she accepted her refill from the mixologist.

"Oh yes, yes, I most certainly was," he insisted, leaning in and lowering his voice, as if he was passing along confidential information. "I'm probably not allowed to tell you this, but I'm going to anyways… I'm responsible for saving the entire city from a dirty bomb."

"Really?" Nicole raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Pulled the plug on it, quite literally, as it were," he chuckled to himself as he remembered the look of shock on Beckett's face when he just grabbed all those wires and just yanked on them. It had been an act of desperation, but it worked nonetheless. As he thought about that incident, he instantly sobered, recalling the joyous hug he had shared with the detective afterwards. Yep, he'd known by then that he was in love with her. Had for a while, actually, but had yet to admit it.

He sighed, audibly.

"You all right?" Nicole asked, brow furrowing with worry.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Castle asserted, though from the expression on her face, he could tell she wasn't buying it.

"Do you still help out with cases?" she inquired.

"No, not anymore," he admitted after another sigh. He swirled the scotch around in his glass, before throwing his head back and downing the last of it. "I stopped about two years ago."

"Why?" she asked, taken aback. "You seemed to enjoy it. And you weren't that bad at it."

He frowned, glancing at her.

"I mean, from just listening to you talk about it, that's what I gathered," she quickly explained, looking nervous. She grabbed her glass and took a quick sip, licking her lips as she swallowed.

"I did, and yeah, I wasn't half bad," he cocked his head to the side, placing his glass back down on the bar. "I was pretty good at it. But even so, I really was never one of them. I was just the hack writer doing research."

"Oh, I'm sure they never thought of you like that," Nicole protested.

Castle shrugged. "Perhaps not," he agreed. "But it doesn't matter. I had enough research, and anyways, it was a bit too dangerous sometimes. And well… I have other priorities."

Nicole nodded. "I understand," she said softly, placing her hand on his arm again.

He pursed his lips and glanced down at her hand, her fingers curling around his bicep. Castle didn't understand what it was about her that comforted him so much, or why it felt so right when she touched him. Yet it did. Everything about Nicole Brennon felt real and right.

Castle straightened up and placed his hand over hers, offering a squeeze of thanks. Again, the moment their hands touched, he felt that spark. He exhaled softly, trying to mask his reaction. "So, what about you, Nicole?" he asked, shifting his weight to lean against the bar. "You obviously know about me. What do you do for a living?"

"Nothing as exciting as shadowing detectives and writing mystery novels, that's for sure," Nicole laughed lightly, turning to pick her glass up and take another sip of scotch.

Castle narrowed his eyes, watching her intently. She was trying to conceal something, but at that moment, he was too interested in hearing what she had to say, getting to know her as a person, to bother with that. He liked her. A lot. And he didn't want to pressure her to divulge more than she was willing to share.

Looking more relaxed after her drink, she turned back to him with a smile. "Believe it or not, I'm just a simple librarian," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. "Nothing special about me."

"Oh, Nicole, I beg to differ," he assured, slipping closer to her, pouring on the charm. "There's nothing simple about you."

She bit her lower lip and ducked her head down as her cheeks turned an attractive shade of pink. Feeling brave, he reached forward and gently tilted her chin up until their eyes locked.

"Don't sell yourself short, Nicole," he said, withdrawing his hand before he was tempted to cup her cheek and lean in for a kiss. Too soon for that, he berated himself. Castle liked Nicole, and he wasn't going to fall into hold habits with her and turn her into a notch on his bedpost.

She offered him a small smile of gratitude, gazing at him with such longing that it nearly threw him for a loop. It was almost like they'd known each other for a lot longer than the past twenty or so minutes.

He watched, mesmerized as she inhaled deeply, before adjusting her gaze, easily covering her yearning with a mask. That was another thing she had in common with Beckett. Both women were capable of concealing their emotions. Both had walls. He absently shook his head, he needed to stop comparing the two. It wasn't fair to Nicole.

"I won't," she assured him after a long pause.

"Good," he nodded, satisfied. However, in the back of his mind, he started to wonder if perhaps this wasn't their first meeting. Maybe that was why he kept getting a feeling of such familiarity from Nicole. It wasn't that she looked like a blonde Beckett—which she remarkably did—but that he had met her before.

Castle cocked his head and stared at her. "Just curious, but have we met before, Nicole?" he asked. "Perhaps at a book signing, or even at the library. I'm a frequent visitor of the New York Public Library."

"No, I don't think so," Nicole shook her head. "I actually just got into town a couple of days ago," she said. "From Nebraska. I'm visiting family… and friends," she added after a beat. "One happened to know just how much of a fan of yours I was, and they were able to get a hold of an invite for this party."

"Lucky you then," he grinned, not entirely convinced that they hadn't previously met. He was getting too many vibes. His Spidey-senses were tingling. Castle didn't know how, or when, but he was growing increasingly certain that he had met Nicole somewhere before. He'd never been to Nebraska, so he doubted that it had been there. She said she was visiting family, so perhaps, even if she didn't remember, they'd met, if only briefly, during one of her prior visits to New York.

"Another drink?" she suggested, gesturing towards his empty glass.

"Sure," he bobbed his head, deciding to let the matter drop and simply enjoy the company. "I think I'll have another. Oh… barkeep!"

The mixologist gave him a disgruntled look, and Castle offered him an exaggerated show of apology. He had forgotten the young man abhorred the moniker of bartender, and its cousin, barkeep. Nonetheless, the man did his job, which was tending the bar. He refilled Castle's glass with scotch, and quietly eased away from the pair to serve other customers.

Castle shared a look and laugh with Nicole over the whole exchange.

As they enjoyed their drinks, they also enjoyed each other's company. He told her about some of the weirder cases he'd worked with the NYPD, and she told him amusing anecdotes revolving around misplaced books and horny teenagers trying to use the more secluded parts of the library to make out.

All in all, Castle was having a very enjoyable time with Nicole. It had been a long time since he'd simply talked with a woman like this. Most of the time, his mind was always geared towards a certain goal. While that was not necessarily the case with Nicole, he'd be lying if he claimed he wouldn't accept if an offer was made. After all, Nicole was a sexy librarian, and Richard Castle was always one to encourage and delight in some healthy roleplay.

Nicole Brennon was a breath of fresh air. Except for the hair color, she was so completely different from the other women he'd been seeing lately. She was intelligent and quick on her feet. She met him toe to toe when it came to witty banter. And she made him smile.

Now that was something no woman had even come close to doing since Kate Beckett passed away. A very rare thing, indeed.