He Knew

calikocat

Flack/Terrence

Word count: 1,255

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI: New York or any of its characters.

Info: Not necessarily episode related, or at least not to a single episode...it's more of a progression thing.

XXX

He knew the white boy in the suit was trouble the first time he opened his mouth. Boy was full of fight, full of life, had a good sense of humor. Pretty lips made for kissing and other things; and blue eyes that would look good full of fire gazing up from his pillow. If Flack hadn't been a cop and on duty he'd have pushed those girls who were beside him to the floor and dragged the Irishman down next to him. Cop was pretty...and had no idea. Terrence was almost glad about the arrangement. Being Flack's CI meant they'd be in touch. And maybe someday he could tell Flack, "Assume the position."

The panic on Flack's face that day in the car, the day he was talking to his girl on the phone, making plans for a night in. He's been there; he's lost that same girl. The one that made the days better, made the games on the streets worth enduring. He'd had a girl like that; she'd been gunned down in a drive by back in high school. Terrence hadn't had a girl since then. There's been bitches, sure, but no girl. The pain of losing someone like that, he couldn't go through it again. He figured Flack couldn't either.

It scared him. After he'd lost that girl back in high school, he didn't let anyone get close. But some how...Flack did. Without even trying. Maybe it was the fool's sense of humor. Maybe it was that tight bod covered in bruises from the beat down in the subway. Maybe it was that shared pain, the pain of losing that girl before you were ready to give her up. Or maybe Flack had him the second he'd walked into the club, swaggering in like he owned it. Boy had an answer to everything, and a smile that would tempt anyone. Nah, Flack had Terrence the second their eyes met. Flack just didn't know it yet.

Flack didn't come to the club much, allergies. He was allergic to the cat. But people were starting to talk, people were getting suspicious. And Terrence hadn't even made his move yet. Couldn't the sons of bitches wait until after he'd at least gotten a taste of that Irish Cream before they went psycho with their accusations of helpn' out the cops. But at least he was getting closer and Flack was getting better. The grief had all but left those baby blues. All that remained...was some sort of shadow. Terrence knew about that too, when his girl had been gunned down he'd taken care of business too. Now if only he could catch a break and get Flack where he wanted him. Preferably in Terrence's bed and screaming his name.

It happened, almost too fast for him to react. What those fools thought they were doin' bustin' down his door, thinkin' he'd hide them from the cops. Stupid. They'd just called him out on sleepin' with the pigs. Something he hadn't done. Not yet anyway. Terrence just barely got away. He pulled out his phone, vision blurry. Fuckers had blindsided him with a gun, a solid hit to the temple. He needed help...and possibly a place to crash. There was smoke coming from the direction of his apartment now. Damn. He dialed the phone.

"Flack."

"Yo K-9. You home?"

"Terrence?"

"I need help Flack."

"I'm home. I'm not goin' anywhere."

"Be there soon Babe."

Flack was waiting at the back of his building when the cab dropped him off. "We really need to stop meeting like this."

Terrence looked up to see laughing baby blues as he staggered out of the cab, Flack caught him. "What you talkin' bout Flack? We ain't never met like this bro."

"You're right. Last time I was the one bleeding. What happened Terrence?" He flashed his badge at the cabbie before tossing him a couple of bills.

"Some old homies decided I need to get back into the game, cops were on their tail and they wanted to hide out at my place. I said no."

Flack supported him as they moved inside the building. "Pistol whipped?"

"Yeah. Then they set my place on fire."

"You're gonna have to make an official statement, Mac and a doctor are already on their way."

"Fine."

Flack practically dragged him into the elevator. "Wanna tell me how you knew where I live?"

Terrence was quiet until they got to Flack's floor. "After that time on the subway? I keep tabs on you. Wanted to make sure you were done with that phase you were goin' through."

Flack sort of smirked at him as he helped Terrence into his apartment. "Guess you need a place to stay?"

"Got nowhere else to go Flack."

Terrence wasn't expecting the doctor to be a brother. Who the hell named their kid Sheldon? But the doc collected trace or whatever, swabbed him and patched him up. Mac asked the questions and Terrence told them what had happened. Then Mac told him that while his place was pretty much gone, no one in the building was hurt. Which was just about the only good news he'd had...that and the fools who'd torched his apartment had been caught and were taking credit for the burning and his demise.

Good thing they never saw him get up after they'd clocked him with the gun.

Mac's face was serious as always as he asked the questions. "Terrence, has there been trouble in your neighborhood?"

"What kind of question is that? There's always trouble in my hood."

Flack snorted and Mac sighed. "More than usual, directed at you I mean."

"Yeah some. Been talk goin' round bout me being in with the cops."

Flack frowned and sat across from him at the kitchen table. "But you're not. Not anymore. The last time I was even at your club it was for a drink."

Terrence met those baby blues and lifted a brow. "People talk. Ain't nothin' gonna stop that."

Mac put away his little notebook and nodded, motioning to the doc. "We'll be in touch. Flack, keep an eye on him, we don't know if this is an isolated incidence yet or if someone is gunning for him."

"You got it."

They showed themselves out and Flack looked at Terrence, a tilt to his head and a gleam in his eyes that made him just a little nervous. "Speaking of people talking...that's twice now you've called me babe." He reached across the small table and Terrence stayed still so Flack could cup his jaw. "You got something to tell me T?"

"We do this. It could get us killed."

"At least we'll know. Besides, we live in New York. We could get killed crossing the street."

Terrence stood, didn't' hesitate. Hesitation could get you killed or get you missed opportunities. This was one opportunity he wasn't missing. He pulled Flack up out of his chair, pulled him close and tasted those pretty lips for the first time. He hadn't had such a slice of heaven since his girl got gunned down. Suddenly the world seemed a little brighter. He'd finally gotten a taste and he intended to savor every bit of that Irish Cream. When he pulled back Flack was grinning.

"Is leatsa mé'."

"What?"

"It's Irish. Means: 'I'm yours'."

"I like the sound of that."

XXX

A/N: I don't speak Irish. Any Irish I use in this fic was found online.