Nikki Heat smirked inwardly as she swept, fashionably late, into Rook’s magazine’s cocktail party.  The formfitting wine red dress, accented in gold, drew looks and the lithe, athletic form it cased kept the gazes on Nikki.  Despite all of the admiring stares, Nikki felt Rook’s eyes on her and she turned to face him with a saucy smile.  Rook’s Adam’s apple bobbed and he absently set his champagne glass on a nearby table.  The air between the two smouldered and the other partygoers unconsciously cleared a direct route to Nikki for Rook.

They stood facing each other, standing just a bit closer than polite society demands, and the tension crackled in the slight space between them.

Rook gave Nikki an appreciative once over (lingering on her cleavage, Nikki noted.  Not that she minded – if she hadn’t wanted him to get a good look, she would have worn a dress with a higher neckline) with a slightly lecherous smirk.  “You clean up well, Detective.”

Nikki gave Rook a once over of her own.  “And you need to shave, Rook.”

Rook ran his hand across his jaw.  “You think, Detective?”  He took half a step closer and pulled Nikki into his arms.  “Shall we dance?”

Nikki stepped out of his arms with a slight shove to Rook’s chest.  “We’re in the entryway, Rook.  And nobody is dancing.”

Undaunted, Rook placed Nikki’s arm through his.  “Then shall we relocate to the dance floor?”

Nikki rolled her eyes, “We’re at a cocktail party.  I want a cocktail.”

“The bar it is!” Rook swept Nikki off without a pause.  At the open bar, Rook was able to cut through the crowd with a smile and handful of humorous quips.  There was something to be said about being on the arm of a man who won two Pulitzers.  “Bubblies for me, sir, and the lady will have…?”

“A tequila sunrise.”

The bartender smiled and his eyes lingered a tad too long on Nikki’s cleavage.  Both Nikki and Rook frowned in response and Rook edged possessively closer to the detective.  Nikki’s frown deepened as she realised that, while she had no problem with Rook getting an eyeful, she genuinely didn’t like the idea of the bartender getting a good look as well.  Odd; she never had felt that way before – even when she’d tell men to keep their eyes up she’d be inwardly preening.  And Rook’s possessiveness.  Normally a move like that would guarantee a stiletto digging in the unfortunate man’s foot but Nikki felt herself almost leaning into his warmth.

Odd.

Fortunately, the bartender was quick with their drinks and Nikki didn’t have to contemplate her unexpected personality change as Rook had swept her off again.  Nikki didn’t mind that so much as Rook was making a direct line towards Roach – precisely the same direction she would have gone.

Conversation was brief, though, as both Raley and Ochoa were clearly more interested in the women and all four were aware that there was a small chance of any approaching for them with Nikki and Rook around.  Nikki may have been the boss and she may have been standing too close to Rook, but she was a beautiful woman that shared an obvious bond with the other two detectives.  And Rook?  Rook, intentionally or not, always stole the spotlight.

So Rook and Nikki drifted from group to group, rarely straying more than an arm’s length from each other, but generally standing just slightly too close together.  Another flute of champagne and a tequila sunrise passed and the time spent making small talk decreased as the tension and lust rose between Heat and Rook – the other partygoers were quick to excuse themselves from the uncomfortably exclusive atmosphere Nikki and Rook generated.

In a quiet moment amongst the boisterous chaos of a slightly drunk crowd of writers, editors, publishers, various other hanger-ons and their dates, Rook plucked Nikki’s nearly empty glass from her hand and set it on a nearby ledge.

“May I now have a dance?” Rook smiled, slightly hazily.  Nikki gave a languid smile back and swiped her glass off the ledge.  She downed the fiery remnants of drink and stepped closer to Rook.

“You may now,” Nikki said with a slight purr in her voice, “But no one else is dancing.”

Rook gave her a huge, boyish grin.  “Does it matter?” He asked, leading Nikki to an open spot perfect for dancing.  He pulled her into his arms and Nikki relaxed into him with a smile.

“I suppose not,” she admitted as they began to move softly to the music.

“So how shall we dance?  A waltz?”  Rook asked, leading them into a few steps of the waltz, “Or a foxtrot?”  He abruptly switched dances and Nikki moved with him fluidly.  “Or perhaps a tango?”  Rook spun Nikki out and reeled her back in with a flourish.  Nikki’s breath caught and her heart raced as Rook’s thigh slid between her own.  “I know!”  Rook exclaimed and drew back a bit from Nikki.  “The jitterbug!”  Rook switched perfectly into the dance and pulled a laughing Nikki along with him.  God it was fantastic – the band, noticing the dancing couple, also switched smoothly into a song perfect for the jitterbug – and Nikki had never laughed this hard whilst dancing and she had certainly never felt the room melt away to leave just her and her partner behind.  Dancing for fun and not a precursor to sex was something she hadn’t done for a long time.

A few brave couples ended up joining in on Nikki and Rook’s dance, including Ochoa and a lady he had skilfully charmed, and the band playing a more modern song next caused more people to join the impromptu dance floor.

“Well look at that,” Rook said with a smile as he pulled Nikki close to him, “We’re trendsetters.”  They started dancing again, too close together to fit a sheet of paper through, and Nikki knew that this dance was a precursor to sex.  But then Rook gave her a playful smile and a devilish wink and she realised that, with Rook, the jitterbug was as well.

The blood flowed headily throughout Nikki’s body as she swayed provocatively with Rook.  They lasted another dance, almost two, before Rook’s hand slid down to cup her nicely shaped (and firmly toned) ass and squeezed gently.  Nikki gasped and her back arched slightly, pushing her breasts into Rook’s chest and he smiled down at her, eyes dark with lust.  As Nikki smiled back up at him, she realised that she didn’t want to wait until they got to her apartment – she didn’t even want to wait until they got into a cab.  Her eyes took on a smoky darkness as she tugged Rook gently through the crowd.

They stumbled into a secluded corner and crashed together, lips moving fiercely and panting wetly between frantic kisses.  Rook’s hands were lifting up her dress and Nikki was making a mess out of his tie when she finally managed to pull back long enough to gasp a single word.

“Where?”  She asked, diving right back into their kiss.  Rook groaned and pulled back unwillingly.

“I know where a secondary coat closet is,” Rook mumbled between kisses.  “It won’t be in use – there aren’t enough people here tonight.”

“Great,” Nikki had finally managed to remove his tie and, at loss of where to put it, she shoved it in his jacket pocket, “Lead us there.”

Rook led Nikki stealthily, or as stealthily as they could manage (which wasn’t very – their disappearance and brief, dishevelled reappearance had attracted the attention of Raley, who wasn’t having as much luck with the ladies as either of his friends), and, laughing (Nikki refused to admit that she, quite possibly, was giggling), lurched into the fortunately unlocked, and unused, coat closet.

Unable to think of a way to keep the door closed, Rook pushed Nikki up against it and she pulled him forcibly down for another kiss.  Nikki’s hands made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, this time not daring to rip them off since they still had to leave the building with some semblance of normality, and she ran her hands appreciatively over Rook’s nicely defined chest.  Rook moaned and nipped sharply at Nikki’s neck as she brushed her thumb over one of his flat nipples.  Her hands trailed down his chest and her nails scratched at his stomach before undoing his fly and starting to push down his pants.

Rook gripped Nikki’s hips with both hands and hoisted her up against the door.  She swiftly wrapped her legs around Rook’s waist and gasped though when Rook pushed down her (thankfully braless) dress and closed a hot mouth over her nipple.

“God, Rook!” She gasped and she felt Rook’s mouth curve into a smug smile against her breast.  Nikki feverishly attempted to push his boxers down with her feet and, with little success, gripped the back of Rook’s jacket tightly.  Rook pushed Nikki’s dress up and his eyes widened when he unexpectedly didn’t come across something.

Nikki smirked slyly, “One can’t have panty lines in a dress like this.”

“Oh God,” Rook said and pulled her in for a searing kiss.

Nikki pulled back desperately, “Do you-”

“Jacket pocket.  The one without the tie.”  Despite their best efforts, and they did almost manage to at least remove his boxers, rolling the condom on was a task not suited for either of their current manual dexterity and Nikki was forced to drop to the floor as Rook hurriedly put it on.  Nikki was soon pushed up against the door with Rook pushing into her and both let out a sigh of sheer bliss.

Rook paused for a moment and smiled at Nikki, gently, almost chastely, kissing her.  After that kiss, it was fast and hot and explosive and everything that Nikki needed right then and it was a moment so close to perfect and she felt hot tears building in her eyes.  And Rook collapsed against her, burying his face between her shoulder and her neck and she heard her feet hit the floor but didn’t feel it, still too wrapped up in the man whose hair she was running through her fingers.

“Wow,” Rook finally said, mumbling into her shoulder.  He placed a gentle kiss there and pulled back to see Nikki’s face.

“Yeah,” Nikki agreed.  “Wow.”

“Do you want to go back to my apartment?” Rook asked after a long pause.

“Right now?” Nikki asked.

“Yeah,” Rook said.

“Okay,” Nikki agreed, pulling her dress reasonably into order.  She helped Rook do up the buttons on his shirt, stealing gentle kisses as she did up each one.  They both attempted to smooth down each other’s hair but chalking it up as an impossible task.

“We’ll just have to sneak out then,” Rook said, “And hope that nobody notices us.”  Nikki slowly opened the door and glanced into the hallway.

“Clear,” she murmured and Rook laughed.  “What?”

“Always a cop, aren’t you, Detective?”  Nikki swatted him playfully and Rook retaliated by pulling her flush to his side.  The two ambled along, Nikki cuddled up against his side, wrapped up in each other and forgetting to make a quick escape.  They rounded a corner and spotted a side door, and they smiled, thinking that they were home free.

No such luck.

“Well, well, well,” Raley’s voice drifted down the hall and the two whipped around to see him, and Ochoa (who had evidently decided that watching his boss sneak out of a party far more entertaining than the woman he was dancing with), walking their way towards Nikki and Rook.

“Leaving without saying goodbye,” Ochoa placed a hand melodramatically over his heart.  “I’m wounded, guys.”

“I’m sure you’ll get over it,” Nikki said, her sharp tone unwillingly softened by the blush staining her cheeks.

“And we are saying goodbye now,” Rook said, tightening his arm around Nikki’s waist and turning them around.

“You two have a good night,” Raley called to their backs.

“Don’t stay up too late – tomorrow’s a Wednesday!” Ochoa added.

“No, no, please do – I’d like to have a morning off,” Roach grinned as their boss, not turning around, flipped them the bird whilst exiting the building.

“C’mon,” Raley said to Ochoa, “Let’s get back to the party – now that Rook is gone, there’ll be more women out there for us.”

I was wrong.

Writing smutfic about a character who shares a name with you is way weirder.

Coincidently enough, this was written, primarily, between the hours of one and three am on Sunday night.

Thanks is owed, as always, to Sarah (ObsidianJade) who was quick to point out some rather… anatomically difficult tasks I had assigned Nikki and Rook as well as assuring me that I totally didn’t completely fail at my latest writing venture.  Sometimes even this arrogant scientist needs reassuring.

—

It was two am and Katherine Beckett could not sleep.  Not an uncommon occurrence – her all nighters spent staring at the murder board, followed by power naps in the break room, (and that time she broke into the Captain’s office and passed out on his much more comfortable couch) were a bit of a legend in the Twelfth Precinct.  But it wasn’t murder keeping Beckett awake that night.

No.

It was far more frustrating problem.  And it was all Castle’s fault.

The relaxing bubble bath with wine, scented candles and soft, ambient music, while perhaps a good idea for unwinding after a long day of paperwork with none of Castle’s antics, turned out to be not-so-relaxing when she hauled in her collection Richard Castle’s novels.  Even that, though, would not have been a problem if it wasn’t for the fact that the wine went straight to her head (or maybe a little farther south) and she started her own Castle smutathon.

And so, by the time the water cooled, Kate Beckett had spent over an hour in the bath reading in chronological order, of course, Castle’s twenty-six (seven, including Heat Wave) bestsellers (plus the ones that didn’t sell quite so well) purely for the sex scenes.

Yeah.

Bad idea.

Especially, Kate rolled over and groaned into her pillow, since I used to wear off this Castlelust by writing smutty Derrick Storm fic.

But, no, Kate Beckett was not going to lower herself to writing fanfiction for books written by a man she saw damn near every day.  It was bad enough knowing that she had written them in the past, and even posted them to the internet (on multiple sites, even!), but she was certainly not going to lower herself to writing them again.

Especially since, as soon as Castle started following her around, she had mass deleted all of the fanfiction she had ever written about his characters.  Sadly, her resolve had only lasted a week – she had caved to the online peer pressure and reposted all of the fics, mostly to prove that she wasn’t one of the fans who vowed to Never Read Richard Castle Again Since He Killed Off Derrick Storm.

End result?  She was still active in the Castle communities and had watched the explosion of fic that had followed the release of Heat Wave.  It was alarming.  People really liked the Nikki Heat character – there were, of course, the obligatory Nikki Heat bashfics (briiiiing Derrick Storm baaaack!), but overall, the authors seemed to revel in her literary alter ego.

Kate sighed and beat her fist into her pillow.  Clearly she wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight, and her friends had been clamouring for some Heat/Rook smut from her…  How hard could it be to write about Nikki Heat?  She knew as much, more even, about the character as Castle did.  And it wasn’t as if she couldn’t figure out Rook.

Oh, God.

She was not seriously considering writing for a ship that was, for all intents and purposes, her and Castle.

But Castle did, her traitorous mind pointed out.  He clearly has no problems with our alter egos getting it on.

Ultimately, that was what convinced Kate to boot up her laptop, pour herself another glass of wine and open Word.  She stared at the blank document, feeling more embarrassed than the first time she wrote a Castle smut fic – and that had been years upon years ago before there was even a hint of Derrick Storm on the horizon.  She took a large swallow of wine for fortification and, shuddering, she began to write.

Nikki Heat smirked inwardly as she swept, fashionably late, into Rook’s magazine’s cocktail party.  The formfitting wine red dress, accented in gold, drew looks and the lithe, athletic form it cased kept the gazes on Nikki.  Despite all of the admiring stares, Nikki felt Rook’s eyes on her and she turned to face him with a saucy smile.  Rook’s Adam’s apple bobbed and he absently set his champagne glass on a nearby table.  The air between the two smouldered and the other partygoers unconsciously cleared a direct route to Nikki for Rook….

–

“Good morning, Beckett!” Castle swivelled around in a chair – her chair – with a beatific grin on his face.  “Coffee?”

Kate growled faintly, accepted the coffee and glared, annoyed by Castle’s perpetual chair stealing.  Castle looked blankly up at her for a moment before the flash of understanding went across his face.  The man either never bothered to hide his emotions or had inherited more than his charm and flair from the dramatic from his mother.

Seemingly in response to her thoughts (perhaps he inherited the psychic powers as well?), Castle had leapt up and held out her chair in a gentlemanly manner.  With a small smile and a mostly feigned suspicious look, Beckett sank gracefully into her seat and Castle gallantly rolled her forward.  She raised an eyebrow at his antics and he just smiled and gave an extravagant bow.

“My, my Beckett, are those bags under your lovely eyes?  Were you up all night?  Was it murder?  I’m hurt – why didn’t you call me?” Castle’s shocked air turned lascivious and he leaned in, “Or was it a man?”

Beckett rolled her eyes.  “Hardly.”

Castle gasped, one hand flying to his heart.  “It was a woman!  Why didn’t you call me, Beckett?”

Beckett huffed, “Don’t flatter yourself, Castle.  What’s got you in such a good mood?”

“I woke up early this morning – really early – five am early – and I have finally managed to bypass Alexis’ parental controls on my–” Castle started.

“Ah!” Beckett held up a hand.  “I do not need to hear any more!”

“No, no,” Castle said, “You’ve got it all wrong – the parental controls weren’t for, uh, adult sites (why would I need those anyway?), they were for the Castle fansites.”

“The Castle fansites?” Beckett said blankly.

“Yes!  And in the year I’ve been away, there has been a veritable explosion of activity!  My favourite author–”

“Favourite author?”

“Of fanfiction.  It turns out that she had deleted all of her stories, but not because of the killing off Derrick Storm thing, and reposted it in the time I’ve been away.  She hadn’t written anything new, though, until just this morning (it was fate, I swear!) and, whew, let me tell you, that was one hot scene between Heat and Rook.”  Castle sighed happily.  “I really wish I could meet this woman.”

Kate Beckett just stared at him in horror.

—

A/N: My attempts at swearing off writing fanfiction never seem to succeed… which is insanely meta considering the subject matter of this fic.  So, yes, maybe Kate is a little too much like me but, hey, it’s crack!fic.

Unrelated, but awesome(ish) – this fic was the first fanfic posted publicly to Google Wave.  Go Castle fandom!

I blame my beta, Sarah (ObsidianJade), for this fic (even if it was an accidental self-prompt).  Somehow both of the fics I wrote in the past year are all her fault.

PS:  I now know how weird it is for people to write fic about characters who share their name.  I’m still not sure if I should be offended by Nikki Heat or not…

ObsidianJade adds:  I’ll happily take blame for this one, it’s hilarious.  I’d happily take blame for a multitude more of stories from Nikki, but she doesn’t co-operate!

Buuut I’ll put it under a cut cuz I really hate uncut long articles on blogs.

• House – I’m pretttty sure the perma-stubble gives away the gender of the lead character
• Chuck – The last time I checked, Sarah wasn’t the lead character
• Castle – Third show in a row to be named after the male lead? Niiiice Nikki, niiice.
• The Big Bang Theory – One female character in the regular cast. ’nuff said.
• Fringe – I’m not sure on this one… Olivia is sorta the main character, but Walter steals the screen and Peter is almost as important as Olivia.  It is a bit too ensemble-y with the three leads to really count as a female lead. Getting close, though!
• Criminal Minds – This show has not one, but two male leads
• Bones – Brennan and Booth are equally important, as seen by the title screen with both Emily Deschanel and David Boreanaz in the most equal manner possible
• Eleventh Hour – Canceled, yes, but Rufus Sewell (aka, the male lead) is yummy enough for me to watch the show again… and again… and again…. Oh, the science is great too.
• Sanctuary – Amanda Tapping!
• Eureka – Male lead. But, wut wut, the not-Tony-Stark character is on the screen?  Get that sheriff outta my line of sight!
• Stargate SG-1 – While Sam Carter should have been the lead character after Richard Dean Anderson left the show, it was not to be.
• Stargate Atlantis – Ultimately, John Sheppard is the lead character of this series… though Elizabeth Weir and Sam Carter lead the expedition for four seasons and (Meredith) Rodney McKay stole the show with awesomeness.
• Star Trek: TOS, TNG, ENT – Combined cuz I’m lazy and, well, the Captain is male. ’nuff said.  (DS9 is excluded simply because I haven’t had a chance to watch that series yet.)
• Star Trek: Voyager – Honestly?  I find most of the male characters rather boring. But, yay, short redheaded female captains ftw!
• The X-Files – C’mon, there are only two main-main characters (what? I need to separate M+S from Skinner, Reyes and Doggett somehow) and they share the lead pretty well – whilst Mulder will run off without Scully, the weird stuff tends to happen to her, not him.
• Warehouse 13 – It’s in the vein of The X-Files and Bones so Myka and Pete are co-main characters, I guess
• Defying Gravity – Ensemble cast, but the two leaders of the expedition are male

So, yeah, long story short?  There generally aren’t any clearly dominant female leads in the stuff I watch.  This also applies to novels (unless they were written for women), but I’m not going to make a massive list of that because A) I’ve read way too many books in my life time and B) I don’t even remember all the names or the authors of most of the books I’ve read.

And I’m not going to bother listing comics because those are written for men and I expect the lead characters to be male and I half expect that the female characters are going to suck.  Some of them don’t, but I find that male writers tend to have women that are just… weird.  They don’t seem like they’re people, y’know?  Not that I’m dissing male writers – the opposite definitely holds true for female writers.  Seriously, read any yaoi recently?  Half of the time one or both of the characters take on a distinctly feminine feel.  And that’s even in fanfic where the character isn’t canonically girly.

Again, the opposite often is true for men writing femslash.

Naturally, I began wondering why it is this way and, wellll, beyond the ‘women/men can’t write men/women’, I haven’t come up with a good reason.  Of course, I’ve come up with reasons, but my idealistic self doesn’t want them to be true and my feminist self doesn’t believe that they’re good reasons.

Simply put, my other reasons all involve sexism – too many male writers/producers/executives that all believe that men could never relate to a female character.  And, thus, for whatever reason they have decided that lead characters must be male because either A) women don’t count (from a marketers standpoint, that’s technically true since, in some workplaces, women still make a lower salary than men.  Add in the fact that it still seems to be women who leave the workforce to raise children and you have a definite skew towards men making, and thus spending, more money.  Thus, you’d want men to be watching the show and commercials and, thus, buying stuff) or, B) they feel that women can relate to men (or throw in a secondary female character for women to relate to).

Yeah.

You can see why I hope that I’m not right.

For interests of full disclosure, I’m kind of guilty of this as well – my lead characters tend to be female and, in the story that still only has a WIP name (currently Forced Fate), my two main characters are both female and, of my three secondary characters, two are male.  Not a very gender balanced cast, but I’d rather have the cast skewed in one direction over it being dead even because casts with exactly as many women as there are men often seem a little bit contrived.  It can be done, but I don’t think I could pull it off.

Besides, I don’t think about that sort of thing while writing – I just come up with characters and put them together.  If they happen to be male, fine by me.  It really does not make a difference to me.

And, perhaps, that’s just how tv is written as well.

But I doubt it.