When Olivia finally left the crime lab a little after eight-thirty thoughts of Mikey McCarthy and Susan Tam weighed heavy on her mind. The first thing she saw as she pushed open the main doors to the NYPD was Flack leaning up against his black Denali, arms folded over his chest and a wide grin on his handsome, but tired face.
'There she is, my favorite CSI,' he greeted.
'There are others?' she said, reaching the bottom step and walking over to him.
'One or two,' he shrugged. 'You're the only one that matters.'
She laughed and he pulled her into him. It felt good, the weight of his hands in the small of her back. She could almost feel the pressures of the day just drain away. 'I thought I was meeting you at your place?' she said.
'You were,' he replied. 'I only just got finished myself. Thought I'd wait for you.'
'Nice thought.'
'I get better. Tough day?'
'Like you wouldn't believe,' she sighed. 'How'd it go with Susan Tam?'
'After McCarthy's confession she stands to get her payout.' Flack gave his head a shake. 'But she doesn't want to see him again.'
Susan Tam hadn't dragged her son into this with intention. Which was why she had stuck to the story of her being the one that had pushed her husband down the stairs. Her intention was to keep her ex-con son's name out of it; to protect him. Just like she had wanted to protect her husband's good name; not realising that it had been her son who had drugged her husband and that he had done it to supposedly protect her from the suicidal, manic-depressive man she loved. A family torn apart, when truth be known, there had been no need. None whatsoever. Olivia let go of a deep sigh.
'Hey, c'mon,' urged Flack, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. 'Don't do that.'
Olivia nodded. 'I know. It's just...God...this day.'
'It's over. I say we grab some Chinese food and head back to my place and make out on the sofa like a couple teenagers. Maybe you could spend the night.'
She ran her hands up the lapels of his jacket and shaking off her day, smiled up at him. 'I don't have a toothbrush.'
'You can borrow mine.'
'Or my PJ's.'
'Don't need any,' he said with a grin.
'Ah,' she said arching one eyebrow, 'that kind of sleep-over.'
'My kind of sleep-over.'
She smiled and tugged on his tie, bringing his mouth down so she could kiss him. A taster of what was to come later. When they drew apart, he grinned.
'C'mon,' he said planting a brief kiss against her brow. 'I'm starved. And not just for food.'
Giving her a smile that would have a nun disrobing at his feet, he opened up the car door and she climbed in. Once Flack was in and buckled up, the car pulled away. Neither of them had noticed Mac standing in the lobby of the NYPD entrance, watching as they drove off.
He had just finished up for the day. He was tired and restless and hungry. The tiredness was a part of the job he'd learned to live with, the hunger he could easily rectify, the restless feeling that was a different story altogether.
All afternoon he had been plagued by his thoughts. They hadn't given him any respite. Not only regarding the Brian Wagner case - he and Stella had since discovered the granddaughter had been abused by Alvin Wagner's nephew when she was a child, Wagner had found out the truth, killed him and his granddaughter had been trying to protect him - mainly because of the altercation he'd had with Olivia. He had taken his frustration out on her and she had been upset with him for treating Flack the way he had and she had every right. Because it had been wrong of him. He had seen the two of them together and it was like something had snapped inside of him.
Mac Taylor was not a jealous man. He had never been a jealous man. But the sight of Flack and Olivia had stirred emotions within him he thought he wasn't capable of feeling. He had no right to feel them in the first place. But then, Olivia Cordukes had been stirring up many feelings of late. Instead of accepting that there had been a connection, an attraction and that he was having difficulty coming to terms with it; he had taken it out on her. It wasn't her fault that he was feeling guilty. It wasn't her fault that he was feeling like he had betrayed Claire's memory in some way. It wasn't her fault that he seemed to be finally moving on.
He shifted restlessly, still staring after the black Denali as it moved off down the street. He knew Olivia and Flack were dating or at least involved in some way, therefore he didn't understand why she had kissed him the night before. Just like he didn't understand his feelings before, during and after the kiss. He didn't understand anything about the entire situation.
Maybe he had been on his own too long.
Maybe five years was enough time for a man to be alone.
*
After finishing up the report on the Tam case and dropping it into Mac's inbox on his desk, Danny headed back down the corridor, his jacket tucked under his arm. It was just after nine-thirty and he was finished for the day. He was mulling over whether or not to head straight home and crash in front of the TV or stop off at Sullivan's and blow the foam off a couple of cold ones, when he passed the office that Lindsay shared with Stella. Through the glass windows he could see Lindsay sound asleep at her desk. There was a mountain of papers and documents stacked up in front of her and she was behind them sleeping soundly, both arms stretched out in front of her. Her caramel-blonde hair was curtaining her face and Danny had never seen her look more vulnerable. Something, he knew, she wouldn't relish him knowing about her.
He smiled. Man, she was something. He wished he wasn't bothered by the deep brown of her eyes or that look she was fond of giving him. Her 'cold enough to freeze water' look. Usually when he'd made some sexist comment or said something sarcastic about cowboys and ranches. Was that look a turn-on. Course, he'd never admit that to her or in fact anyone. Like he wouldn't admit to feeling a little bit jealous by all the attention that Marty Pino was showering on her of late.
He pushed open the door and went inside. He almost didn't want to wake her, she looked so peaceful. He knew he could easily let her sleep, Mac had left for the night an hour or so before; but her desk looked like a bomb had hit it and he doubted that she'd want to head home without addressing the many documents on it. Besides, it didn't look comfortable. He put his hand on her shoulder and gently shook her. She woke with a jolting start.
'Huh? What? Is there a fire?'
Danny grinned. 'No fire, Montana.'
Her bleary eyes focused on him. 'Danny...what time is it?' She ended the sentence with a small yawn.
'Home time,' he answered.
'What? No! I fell asleep!' she said, aghast that she had. 'I need to get back to work.' She stared down at the papers strewn across her desk and her shoulders instantly slumped. She averted her brown gaze upwards and to Danny's knowing smile.
'Would it be so bad if you left them until tomorrow?' he said, reading her mind.
Lindsay sighed and ran a hand through her hair. 'Well...I guess not.' What she was working on was important, but not like a dire emergency or anything. She had been going through documents and files from the past year, finding errors, ordering them and filing them.
'Did you put yourself up for this?'
She nodded. 'I asked Mac for more work. He wasn't happy about me working overtime and not getting paid. I don't mind helping out.'
'Because we don't have enough work already,' Danny said.
She smiled up at him. 'Okay, so you discovered my flaw. I'm a workaholic. Isn't everyone around here?'
'Not all of us,' Danny replied, folding his arms over his chest.
'Right, you're the biggest culprit and you know it,' she told him knowingly.
'I think Duke's got me beat on that one, actually.'
'I don't see her now.'
'Because she's on a date with Flack. C'mon, grab your coat,' he said leaning over and taking the pen from her hand.
Giving him a questioning look, she asked, 'What are you doing?'
'You don't need to be doing this and you're not getting paid anyway, so I suggest you accompany me to Sullivan's for a couple rounds.' He turned off the desk-lamp. 'First one's on me.'
'You suggest?'
'That's right. Coat.' He turned around and grabbed her coat from the stand behind the door. He handed it to her. 'C'mon. Before I change my mind.'
Lindsay could only smile at him as she took her coat and slipped her arms into the sleeves. Normally, she wouldn't be so easily swayed. Normally, she'd be fighting him. Especially if she thought he was flirting with her. Which, lately, he seemed in the habit of doing a lot. But she got the impression he was just being a friend and besides, she felt like having a couple of drinks before heading home.
'I could eat something, too,' she added saucily, as together they left her office.
'Don't push it, Montana.'
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COPYRIGHT. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Debra Jay. 2006