Everything stopped. Stella could no longer feel Danny beside her, or hear the racing footsteps of the perp they were chasing. The room they had entered faded away, and the very breath in her lungs froze. Her arms suddenly felt like lead and she lowered her weapon, her feet staggering to a stop.
The pool of the penthouse wasn't Olympic-sized, but it still stretched from one end of the room to the other. The water was a perfect blue and it lapped against the edges, making it obvious that it had only recently been disturbed.
But it was the detective lying face-down in the water that caught Stella's attention. Letting her gun clatter to the floor, she lunged forward, her heart pounding in her chest.
"Don!"
She and Danny reached the pool at the same time. Both of them leaped into the water, reaching for their friend. His suit was soaked through and it made it difficult to lift him out. Finally, they got him over to the side; Stella hauled herself out and then turned, hooking her arms under Flack's shoulders as Danny pushed the detective up.
As soon as Don was out of the water, Stella knelt by his side. A part of her was panicking, telling her that they had taken too long to get him out, that they were too late. But the rational part of her brain knew that the rescue had been a matter of only a few seconds, and she still had a chance to save him. She heard Danny behind her, calling for backup, telling them that an officer had been drowned and was unconscious. Tilting Don's head and taking a deep breath, Stella began CPR.
The world dropped away as she fell into the routine. Breath, compressions, breath, compressions. Every time her lips touched his, Stella sent up a silent prayer, begging God to bring him back to her.
She lost count of how long it went on, of how many times her mouth moved over his to breath air into his lungs. But suddenly there were hands pulling at her, a voice broken and deep in her ear.
"He's gone, Stell. It's been too long. Donnie's gone."
She couldn't listen to him. Fighting his grasp, she pushed Danny backwards, hard enough that he landed on his back. Her desperation becoming frantic, she continued CPR on Flack, not even noticing the tears streaming from her eyes.
As she began another set of compressions, Flack suddenly coughed. Water spewed out of his mouth and he rolled over, taking quick, shuddering breaths. A cry of relief escaped from Stella, and she held him against her, kissing the top of his head.
"Stell," he croaked, clinging to her.
"It's okay, Donnie," she whispered. "You're okay."
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There was a quiet knock on the door, and Don looked up as he continued to button his shirt. A second later, the door opened, and Danny slowly stepped into the room.
"Hey," Flack said.
"Hey," Danny replied. "How you feelin'?"
Don shrugged. "Okay. Especially for bein' almost dead a couple hours ago." He paused. "I'm lucky you guys were there."
Danny nodded, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. "About that...I'm sorry, man."
Flack frowned. "For what?"
His friend refused to look him in the eye. "I...You were blue, Don. Stella kept doin' CPR, but nothin' was happening, and I thought...I thought we were too late." Flack opened his mouth to say something, but Danny talked right over him. "I tried to pull her off of ya...I tried to make her stop." He shook his head. "But she wouldn't. She just threw me off of her and kept right at it. If she hadn't..."
"Danny, stop."
He finally looked up, meeting his friend's eyes. "I'm sorry."
Flack pushed himself off of the hospital bed and moved across the room, pulling Danny into a tight hug. "It's okay," he murmured. "It's okay."
They stood there for a moment, until the door suddenly opened.
"Oh God, I'm sorry."
They pulled away to see Stella standing in the doorway. Wiping at his eyes, Danny waved her off.
"Nah, don't worry about it. It's your turn to hug the bastard anyway."
Laughing, Stella leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Danny patted Flack on the shoulder a couple times and squeezed Stella's arm before turning and walking out of the room. The door closed, Don walked back to the bed, sitting down so he could put his shoes on.
"You okay?" she asked quietly.
He nodded. "Thanks to you." She blushed at that, and Flack stared at her. "You saved my life, Stell."
She shrugged. "I was almost too late," she whispered.
Don watched her for a minute, taking in the way she wrung her hands as they were clasped in front of her, and the tears that were sitting just behind her eyes. Trying to lighten the moment, tilted his head to the side.
"Of course, just my luck - the one time you finally kiss me, and I'm unconscious."
She didn't laugh at that, and Flack looked down at the shoe he was tying, mentally kicking himself. But when he looked back up to apologize, he saw that Stella was right in front of him, a strange expression on her face. Without a word, she pressed her lips against his, her hands cupping his face. When she pulled back, she rested her forehead against his, her thumbs moving softly against his skin.
"I almost lost you," she whispered.
"But you didn't," he pointed out gently.
"It was close, though," she argued, her voice trembling.
Kissing her again, Flack smiled. "Then let's not waste any more time."
