889. Chapter 889

After That '70s Show

Episode 6.20

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: Castle made me an offer I couldn't refuse, so I don't own it. Rating: K Time: See above.

Detective Nikki Heat strode into the Little Palermo Social Club, stopped and looked around. In one corner there was a table of old mustaches, playing cards, and drinking chianti. She could hear the sounds of Frank Sinatra coming from the juke box. She knew that the only other singers on the juke box would be Perry Como, Vic Damone and Tony Bennet. Over the bar was an Italian flag and an old photo of Benito Mussolini. The air was redolent with the smell of pasta and olive oil. She walked to the end of the bar where a slatternly barmaid was washing a single glass.

"I'm her to see the Don."

The blonde looked Nikki over. "Do you have an appointment, Miss…?

"Heat. Detective Nikki Heat. NYPD. And don't worry, he'll see me."

The blonde nodded and motioned for Nikki to follow her. They walked through a long hall to a heavy steel door. "We can't take chances these days." The blonde said, opening the combination lock. Nikki, with her superb hearing heard the tumblers fall and knew exactly what the combination was.

The door opened and Nikki strode right in. The office was all dark mahogany and polished brass with an expensive Persian carpet over a hardwood floor. The lighting was dim, but Nikki could see the man she had come to see, seated behind the desk. Nikki sat down in a faux Louis Quatorze chair and crossed her long, toned and trim legs.

"It is customary to kiss my hand when coming into my presence." The voice from behind the desk wheezed.

Nikki raised an eyebrow, then rose from the chair and went and sat on the Don's lap, kissing him passionately. "Better, Rookfather?" She asked.

"That's an offer I can't refuse, Nikki." Jameson Rook's hand slid towards Nikki's boobs, but she pushed him away.

"Not now. How did you ever get yourself into this mess?"

Rook gave a very Italian shrug, which he had been practicing. "When Don Vito Demming died, he had no children and the only relative they could find was Uncle Vinnie who's a hundred and six and has trouble drooling on his own. So they searched and finally found Detective Tomasso Demming of the 20th Precinct. But as they were about to make him the head of the Demming crime family, a kitten scratched him and the fright was too much for his heart. He dropped dead. So, the Family kept searching and finally found that one of my ancestors, Guy Fawkes Rook and been briefly married to Lucrezia Borgia Demming in 1519 before he died of an undetermined ailment."

"You're part of the Demming family?" Nikki said in shock. "I want a divorce."

"Nikki, please. That was almost five hundred years ago and I was part of the family by marriage only."

"But, Rook. You're not Sicilian. You're not even Italian."

Rook shrugged. "They were desperate. They asked me if I liked pizza and when I said yes, they said that was close enough."

Nikki settled back down on his lap. "I do love you, Rook. I guess I can forgive that lapse by one of your ancestors. Now come home with me. You are not the boss of a crime family. You're my husband."

Rook looked embarrassed. "Nikki, you know what they say about the Mob. Once you're in, you're in for life. Besides…."

"Besides what?" Nikki asked coldly.

"This is the dumbest crime family ever. They took over the garbage collection racket, but they don't know where to put it all. All of the garbage from the Upper East Side was outside the club. I had to call in a rival crime family to clean it up."

"Who?" Nikki asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Giovanni de le Medici. I'm afraid that was a mistake. You can't show any weakness around here. Last night, Medici left a squirrel's head in my bed."

"What? The man killed a squirrel! That's despicable."

"Actually, the rest of the squirrel was still attached. And given the general level of intelligence around here, I hired little Cosmo over there as my consigliere, my adviser."

Hearing his name, little Cosmo, now dressed in a Borsalino fedora, a pin striped three piece suit with a black shirt and a white tie, with spats, rushed over, climbed on the desk and kissed Nikki's hand. "You have my utmost respect, Dona Nikki." He squeaked. Then he ran back to a group of similarly dressed squirrels and got back to work.

"We've taken over the whole of Central Park." Rook boasted. "If you want to avoid getting pigeon poop on you in the park, you need to talk to Buggsy over there. You need to let him get his nose wet, so to speak."

Hearing his name, little Buggsy doffed his fedora and bowed to Nikki.

"Muggsy is in charge of the rats. You let Muggsy have a taste and you have no rats."

Muggsy also doffed his hat and bowed to Nikki.

"Rook, you can't do this. You're not a crime lord. You're a reporter."

Rook smiled. "I know. This is going to be the ultimate insider reporting. Making news and reporting it."

Nikki shook his head. "That's not the way journalism is, Rook. Being the news and reporting it?"

"Escusa, Dona Nikki." Cosmo said, having moved over to the desk again. "But we have made Don Giovanni an offer he cannot refuse."

"You didn't…."Nikki said in horror.

At that moment, Don Giovanni de le Medici strode into the office, covered in pigeon poop and with a plethora of rats clinging to him. "You have gone too far, Don Jameson. Now we must go to the mattress." He leered at Nikki when he said that. Nikki smiled and was about to dismember Don Giovanni when Cosmo spoke up.

"We should settle this like mammals." The little fellow said. "As gentlebeings."

"You mean…."

"Rock, paper, scissors." Cosmo said, holding out one little paw.

Alas for Don Giovanni, Cosmo was a master of the art of roshambo and easily won, not the least because Buggsy snuck up behind Don Giovanni and hit him on the head with a rock. When it was over, the Medici crime family was no more and went off to New Jersey to make cannoli.

"Rook, now you're the head of the only crime family in all of New York City." Nikki said. "What are you going to do?"

"Go to lunch." Rook replied with a smile.

"Really?"

"I'll go to lunch and tell the Demmings not to do anything until I come back. And they won't."

"And what about Cosmo and his "boys?"

"A small price to pay for the city to be rid of pigeon poop and rats." Rook turned to Cosmo. "Can you handle everything in my absence?"

Cosmo nodded. "It's just business, Don Jameson. Nothing personal."

And so Cosmo organized his friends. No one had pigeon poop on their clothing or cars. The rats were used to clean up garbage and set up a successful recycling business. And Don Cosmo became a much loved figure in New York.

And the old mustaches in the Little Palermo Social Club wondered just how long a lunch Don Jameson would take.