CSI:New York : Who Are You? (Don Flack/OFC fanfic)

Traffic

Lindsay was in the break-room drinking down a mug of coffee and chewing on a Granola bar when Stella came inside. Her shift was due to start in fifteen minutes and wasn't due to finish until ten-thirty that night. It wasn't unusual for a CSI to pull fourteen-hour shifts or to work three or four different cases at a time, but since the Sheridan case and Mac's insistence that Danny, Hawkes and Olivia weren't to work any other case but that one, it meant that Lindsay and Stella's workload had all but quadrupled. Lindsay and Danny had been covering a shooting the very same night that the Sheridan family had been murdered, then Mac had called Danny in on it and she had been left to handle the shooting alone. It was fair to say she was tearing her hair out with that one. No witnesses, no suspects, not even a single hair let alone a bullet to trace. She hated cases like that.

'Morning, Linds,' Stella greeted her, walking up to the table where she sat.

'Hey, Stel,' Lindsay smiled at her.

'I hate to come between a woman and her Granola bar but we gotta dead body in Times Square,' Stella grinned, 'and seeing as how it's just you and me, we better get down there ASAP.'

'No problem.' Lindsay took another quick bite of the bar and a gulp of coffee before standing up and pouring the rest down the sink and tossing the leftover bar into the trash. 'Have you had any news from Mac? About how they're getting on?'

Stella gave her head a shake as the two women left the break-room. 'From the sound of things it's turning into one of those cases where there's a lot of evidence, but not much to go on. If you know what I mean.'

Lindsay nodded as they walked side-by-side down the brightly lit hallway. 'Yeah. Got one of those myself,' she drawled, thinking about the Greenwich Village shooting. 'What about the little girl? How's she doing?'

'Leukemia,' Stella answered, her tone grave.

'Oh, God.'

'Yeah.'

Lindsay sighed. 'So, I guess we have Detective Angell for this one? Seeing as how Flack's backed up to the hilt with the Sheridan thing.'

'I have no idea,' Stella admitted as they arrived at the waiting elevator. 'We won't know until we get there.'

*

Flack manoeuvred the Denali through the heavy traffic; he and Olivia were on their way to St. Luke's Hospital. Progress was slow; traffic in and out of Morningside Heights this time of morning was a nightmare. He slowed for a red light on Riverside Drive and began tapping his thumbs rhythmically against the steering wheel. A bike messenger went whizzing by his side window and cut straight through the light ahead to a melody of angry, blaring horns.

'He is so lucky I'm stuck in traffic or I'd be looking to book him right about now,' he commented.

'He's got the right idea, though.' Olivia looked at him. 'I meant the bike, not the near-fatal accident,' she added.

'So next time we hire a tandem,' he grinned. 'I'll bring the protective head-gear.'

'So long as I get to call shotgun,' she said, turning her head forward once again.

Still smiling, Flack allowed his gaze to linger over her for a moment longer than he knew he should. She looked great today. She looked great, period. Her dark red hair was pulled back in a ponytail and Flack decided he really liked it that way; it suited her heart-shaped face and accentuated her delicate features. Even though she looked tired and a little worn around the edges, she was still the most gorgeous woman he'd ever set eyes on. He noticed the tiny diamond studs in her ears and the balm that shone on her lips that made him want to lean over and kiss it off of her.

Damn.

Guys weren't supposed to notice things like lip balm.

He needed to get a hold on this. He wished he could get over it. But how, when he worked with her and had close contact with her on a daily basis? If he was being entirely honest he didn't want to get over her. There was a tiny piece of him that was holding out for her. Hoping that maybe she would realise just how good they had been, how even better they could be and she'd come back to him.

Even though things were never going to be the same again between them, he was glad that things hadn't gotten so bad that they had forgotten how to have a joke. Like now. He loved how he could still make her smile. He loved her smile.

Sighing gently, he forced himself to turn back to the road, looking up at the light that was still on red. It was ironic really, in thirty-two years he had never fallen for a woman. Been real careful not to. Aside from the fact that he had never met a woman he wanted to spend his life with. Now, when he finally does, she turns out to be a workaholic, commitment-phobe. Not too unlike himself. It was too ironic.

At his sigh Olivia glanced at him. 'You okay?'

'Yeah. Just this damn traffic,' he muttered as the light turned green. 'Hallelujah.' He released the handbrake and even though the car was moving mere inches, at least they were moving again.

Feeling her cell phone vibrate in her jacket pocket, Olivia saw it was a text message from Evan. He was cancelling his planned visit to New York that weekend, as his boss needed him on a photo-shoot somewhere exotic. Nice for him, not so much for her. Knowing what a huge opera buff he was, she had gone out and bought tickets to Madame Butterfly as a surprise.

'Figures,' she murmured.

'Something wrong?' asked Flack.

'No.'

She slipped the phone back into her pocket. She had been looking forward to seeing her best friend. It had been a while. He was the only constant thing in her crazy world. Right now she needed someone solid to keep her balanced. She couldn't shake the feeling that things were slowly pulling her under, and with no one around to trust, she was afraid of never surfacing again. Evan was the one person capable of keeping her afloat. There were times she needed him more than she cared to admit. Once again though, their very different careers had thrown a spanner in the works and now she was left friendless and with tickets to the opera.

*

Danny and Mac had driven out to the Sheridan house. Images of the family smiled down on the two Detectives as they made their way silently up the stairs. The house felt empty and cold and it was nothing to do with the fact that it was below five outside. In the harsh light of day things didn't look any better. In fact, it made everything worse. The blood spills seemed larger than they had been the night before, the coppery smell thicker and the carnage in Eli Sheridan's private office looked twice as bad as when Danny and Olivia had discovered it.

'What you hoping to find, Mac?' Danny asked as they stepped up onto the landing.

'Anything that we may have missed last night,' Mac replied.

'I don't know about that.' Danny looked around him at the cream-colored walls tainted and tarnished with blood spatter. 'I think we got everything we're gonna get.'

'Only one way to find out. You take the little girl's bedroom. I'll have another look in the boy's room,' Mac said.

'A'ight,' Danny nodded and dutifully moved off in the direction of Gracie Sheridan's bedroom, not even certain that there would be any more evidence left to find.

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Copyright © 2006 [Debra Jay] All Rights Reserved