A/N: Hi everyone (if there's anyone left alive after the millions of apocalypses that must have happened while I was not updating this) I'm SO SORRY that I haven't updated this, I was working on another fanfiction, and I wasn't quite sure about the plot line for this, but I have it a bit planned out now, and updates should come a little more regularly. I hope this is good enough for now, I'm (again) REALLY sorry, but anyhow, here it is!
Disclaimer: I don't own the Castle series (Damn. I wish I was that brilliant a writer), nor the Heat franchise, the Storm franchise, the Ford Fusion brand, nor any of the characters.
Nikki Heat opened her eyes to the sound of the telephone ringing. She groggily lifted her head up, getting her bearings before attempting to sit up. Late-night drinking with Lauren Parry had really taken it's toll. What the hell is… she looked down, trying to see why her foot was aching.
"Oh," she said out loud. A giant stuffed panda was sitting on her foot.
She kicked it off her foot, still half awake, and walked dazedly to the phone.
"Heat," she said, her voice a monotone.
The voice that responded was ever so urgent.
"Nikki you need to get down to the precinct right now!"
Nikki moaned. "Why?"
"Because the John Doe, or "Agent Deckerson", as you called him, is gone."
After throwing on her clothes in a rush and taking two Tylenol to kill her headache, Nikki Heat made her way back to the precinct. She sighed when she saw Jameson Rook wasn't sitting at his usual chair.
"Anyone know where Rook went?" she called allowed.
Ochoa answered. "I don't know, chica. He left in a flurry yesterday 'bout five minutes after you."
Heat sighed. "I'll just continue on without him."
Heat walked into Captain Montrose's office. Lauren Parry was sitting on the edge of the seat to the right.
"Have a seat, Detective Heat," Montrose said in his sternest voice.
Heat sat down cautiously, aware that her hair was beginning to fall out of her messy bun.
"Please, tell me the whole story."
And so Nikki Heat began recounting the story of Derrick Storm.
"So I feared," Montrose said. "Derrick Storm is a CIA agent that was semi-recently pronounced dead."
Heat frowned. "So then who have I been dating for the past week?" Her voice was at an incredulously high pitch.
Lauren Parry attempted to comfort the disheveled detective, but Heat shook her off.
"I can't say for sure, either it's an impostor, or he's really back from the dead," Montrose said, although it was clear from his tone he believed the former to be true. "What I don't understand, is how they were able to get the body from the ME's office?"
Lauren turned beet red.
"What is it, Ms. Parry? I need to know," he said, his voice comforting ever so slightly towards the civilian.
"Last night, after Heat found out that Storm wasn't who he said he was, we ah… we kind of went out and partied," Lauren said sheepishly.
"And?" Montrose prodded.
"And when I woke up the next morning," she started, "mykeysweregone," she said in a rush. "Am I going to lose my job?" she said nervously, looking intently at Montrose.
He sighed. "I suppose there is no reason for that. Just, be careful next time."
Lauren smiled. "Thank you Captain Montrose."
Just then, a knock came at the captain's door.
When Montrose opened it, a boy in a fancy black suit and an old fashioned captain's hat was standing at the door, a piece of manila paper in his hand.
"Telegram for Ms. Heat!" he exclaimed.
Nikki stood up cautiously, taking the telegram from the boy. He bowed, and then walked out, Raley leading him back to the elevator.
"Who's it from?" Lauren asked nervously.
Heat opened it, and then took in a sharp breath.
"Him," she said. "What do I do?" she asked, looking at the dismayed faces of her captain and her best friend.
"I say you go," a quiet voice said at the door. Jameson Rook was standing in the doorframe, looking more dismayed than Montrose and Parry. "You could learn something valuable from him. It doesn't have to be real."
Heat was about to viciously decline, but Montrose stepped in. "That could be a really good idea, Heat. Thank you for your suggestion, Rook. Go with him tonight, Heat. See what you can learn. Now, would you all please get out of my office, I have work to do."
After 5 more hours of consecutive work, the detectives (along with Rook and Lauren Parry) came up with a plan. Heat was to go in there un-bugged but armed. She was to see what he was planning, and then get the hell out.
Heat drove home stiffly.
When she arrived, she did the usual. First she breathed in the smell of lavender. Then she scanned the premises for any bombs or men with guns. "Clear," she whispered to herself.
She locked her door behind her and walked back to her closet. Pulling out a navy blue dress with sleeves that didn't pass her shoulder, she slid it on over her body. The tight bodice of the top made it flattering, but the loose, swingy skirt hid the fact that multiple guns were strapped to her thighs. She slid her shield through the long V-neck in her dress, into the hidden pocket. She slipped on an orange-red belt and matching kitten heels. She let her hair down, brushing it and curling it, and she applied lipstick the same color as her belt.
"I'm ready."
She stepped back in her Ford fusion, locking her front door behind her again, and she drove to the address that Storm had provided her.
Since the address was about an hour away, she decided to call Lauren.
"Hello?" Lauren asked.
"Hey, Lauren, it's Nikki."
"Ooh, getting ready to go on your big date?" Even though it wasn't a real date, Lauren seemed just as excited.
"Yeah, I'm driving now. I just… I…" she stopped talking.
"What is it, honey? Is this about Rook?"
"No!" her voice sounded incredulous. "Why would this be about Rook?"
"Well," Lauren said softly, as though not to wake the bear, "we all know you have feelings for him."
Turning sharply off the freeway, Heat scoffed. "I do not!"
Lauren sighed. "It's okay, Nikki, you can talk to me. I won't say anything."
Nikki Heat took a deep breath. "It's just… not something I want to talk about right now."
"Okay, honey, then why are you callin' me?" Lauren had a point.
"I don't know, I guess I just wanted to hear a friendly voice. I'm hear now, so I have to go. Bye Lauren."
"Bye Nikki. Good luck. And…" she added cautiously, "be careful."
"I will. Bye." Heat hung up the phone, turning the engine off. She sat in the front seat of her car and took a deep breath. This was going to be one strange night.