Disclaimer: I still don't own any of the characters of Castle, sadly.

Based on the promotional stills for 4x14: The Blue Butterfly. Spoilers for those! This is by no means how I expect the episode to go, it's just what flew through my mind immediately upon seeing those pictures. I just had to write it down… and boy, was it fun.

xxx

If she was being honest with herself, the gorgeous furs draped across her upper body weren't the symbol of wealth and status others believed them to be. In truth, she was grounded, secured to a life of intrigue and corruption as if she were actually wrapped in chains. Despite herself, she heaved a heavy sigh as she accepted a drink from the bartender. She turned toward her boyfriend and offered an apologetic, sultry smile, waving her hand in front of her neck to blame her sudden show of emotion on the heat that hung heavy throughout the club.

He barely spared her a glance, his eyes darting around the room, and she knew he was preoccupied. He was forever observing; making connections, searching for information and silently making judgments no matter what the situation. He could have been sidled up to the bar with anyone in the place, for all the attention he was paying her. She bit the inside of her cheek and reminded herself to appear impassive, casting a cool glance around the room.

She recognized several people from nights prior, and observed with interest as they laughed over drinks, leered at the women crossing the room with trays of cigarettes, and argued quietly – in some cases not quietly enough – over what had surely started as friendly games of poker. She fought the urge to roll her eyes at the predictable pattern they all seemed to follow. Friendships were formed, money was exchanged, and enemies were born. It was a tiresome cycle.

She shut her eyes tightly and threw her head back, draining the last of her drink in one solid gulp. As she placed the glass back on the bar, she caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye. A man entered the club, broad in stature and clad in a tan coat and hat. She could tell immediately that he was no regular. His eyes scanned the club warily as he approached the other side of the bar, pretending not to notice when the heads of most of the women in his path swiveled to take him in. He nodded jerkily to the bartender and continued his scan of the club.

The eye contact was made before she had time to divert her eyes, and she was sure the hitch in her breathing was noticeable, but a scan of her peripheral revealed that the man to her left was much more interested in the hushed, heated discussion he was having with two of his most trusted cronies. She tilted her head slightly and raised an eyebrow at the stranger, whose eyes narrowed as he took her in, unabashedly letting his gaze wander up and down her form. Air finally returned to her in shorter, more ragged breaths, and she managed to paint a disapproving look across her features.

He seemed to find that rather amusing, and although his features remained schooled in a slight scowl, his eyes were shining as he left his place across the bar and made his way toward the men, their conversation ceasing abruptly as they noted his approach.

He tipped the fedora on his head slightly when he reached them, holding out a hand in greeting. "Gentlemen," he murmured smoothly, shaking her boyfriend's hand first before offering it to the other men, who sneered and acted as though they hadn't noticed the gesture.

"What can we do for you, friend?" She recognized the sarcasm dripping from his tone immediately, and softly touched one hand to the crook of his elbow. He barely spared her a glance, his eyes never wavering from the stranger.

"I believe I have some business I'd like to discuss. Somewhere more private, perhaps?" His tone was serious and his posture screamed of power and masculinity, but when the men turned to each other in hushed communication at his words, he glanced at her and she felt her heart hammer in her chest at the glimmer that remained in his eyes.

She licked her lips subtly and pursed her lips, fighting the smile that threatened to escape there. She bowed her head slightly, gazing at him through her eyelashes. His eyes remained on her until the men broke from their huddle and gestured toward a table in the corner, situated just to the side of the stage where a songstress had just struck up the first few chords of a ballad.

Trailing behind the men, she willed herself to remain calm. The men arranged themselves around the table, and she perched herself on a stool in the welcoming shadows of the corner, directly behind the newcomer. Satisfied that her position afforded her some measure of privacy, she allowed her eyes to roam over him, taking in the way his hair tapered out on his neck and gave way to strong muscles. She watched as he removed the fedora and ran one hand gently over his hair, smoothing it back.

She zoned out, as she so often did, during the discussion taking place in front of her. Politics, money, and corruption were of no real interest to her unless she was forced to play the game, and she rarely had reason to do that after she had become the protected pet of one of New York City's most powerful gangsters.

So she continued until she was startled out of her reverie by the slightest of touches to the back of her calf, which had become partially exposed when she had hopped up onto the stool and crossed her legs. She glanced down sharply, and saw a small smirk pulling at the corners of the stranger's mouth. She felt the goosebumps explode across her flesh, and glanced uneasily across the faces of her boyfriend and his partners, but none of them seemed remotely interested in her.

She narrowed her eyes at him and bit her lip slightly before rubbing her calf lightly against his hand, snickering silently to herself when he visibly shifted in his seat. Just then, whatever business he had seemed to be over as the men all rose to their feet, the cronies moving back toward the bar as the other two men shook hands stiffly.

Moving to follow her boyfriend back to their perch at the other end of the club, she slid quietly by the stranger, catching her lip between her teeth again when he bent slightly toward her and brought his mouth to her ear. "Nice meeting you, doll. I hope to be seeing a lot more of you, very soon."

She gave him a fierce glare, but she was smiling when she nodded at him, allowing herself to be escorted across the room. She permitted herself one last look at him as he exited the club, and when she caught his eye, he winked daringly, settling his hat back on top of his head and pushing through the door with authority.

She stared after him for longer than necessary, and then turned back toward the bar, ordering another martini and using her finger to push the olive around in the glass. The stranger's business card had been tossed haphazardly onto the counter, and she memorized the address quickly. She turned her attention back toward the singer, swaying softly to the music as her mind worked fervently, spinning a story that would allow her a few hours of freedom the next day.

She needed to see him again.