Note From The Author-- Sometimes I need NY Therapy, and when I need NY therapy, I often find myself watching All Access. There's that absolutely beautiful moment between Stella and Flack at the end that I just can't resist. For some completely unknown reason, this popped into my head while watching that episode. Its shaping up to be a two or three shot, and I certainly hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer-- I don't own the characters. Damn

When you were a cop you had good days and bad, just like everyone else. Thing is, as a cop good and bad days are often magnified by about a million times. A good day for a cop could consist of helping a family make it through or catching a rapist or murderer; a bad day could mean finding a body or telling a family their loved one is never coming home.

Being that everything is magnified, personal lives bleed easily into work lives and vice versa; and that bleeding can either brighten a day or make it infinitely worse. Don Flack figured he'd probably had one of the worst days known to mankind, with the personal bleeding into professional so severely he could hardly see anymore. When you found the body of a six year old, had to tell her mother that her little girl was never coming home, then got shot down by the colleague you'd been sleeping with all in one day, it tended to make you contemplate never leaving the house again.

As he locked up his memo book and got ready to head home, he felt the migraine that had been battering at him all day rise to a crescendo. Rubbing at his temples he stood and slung his jacket over his shoulder.

"You doing okay Don?" Jessica Angell's voice was soft when she spoke.

He turned to her with a sad smile. "I've got the headache from hell, but I'm fine Jess."

"It was a rough day for you," she said sadly.

"Yeah, it was; in more ways than one." His eyes were more than a little bit haunted when he said it. "But I'll be just fine."

There was no way in hell she was going to believe him, not with that look in his eyes; but she let it go. "You need a friend you know where to find me."

Flack nodded. "I do." He leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek. "Thanks Jess."

Angell watched him go; knowing there had to be something more going on with him. That look had been more than a dead kid and grieving parents. Buried in there beneath the horror and regret was pure and simple heartache, and it didn't take her long to decide that she was going to find out what happened. As she left the station she decided that a pizza and a six pack were the perfect offerings. She could only hope that they'd be accepted.

It was past ten when the doorbell rang; an hour at which Don was unaccustomed to having visitors. So with a worry that it may be something important and a sigh, he made his way to the door. When he opened it to find Angell standing there in jeans and a sweatshirt with a pizza in one hand and a six pack of beer in the other he wasn't sure whether he was happy to see her or not.

"I know you said you'd call if you needed a friend," she opened. "But I'm a pretty perceptive girl, and it seemed to me that you needed one without even knowing it."

The smile came of its own volition, and he let her in without another thought. "You bring me a decent pizza?" he questioned lightheartedly.

"Well that entirely depends on your definition of decent." Jess set the box down on the counter, sliding into one of the high bar stools that sat in front of his counter. "My half is a masterpiece that would make the angels weep. Your half's got all the other crap you like on it."

Flack laughed for the first time that day, and he realized then that Angell was right; he did need a friend. "Well at least half of its edible then," he ribbed.

They fell into a comfortable silence as they each took a slice and he opened beers for both of them. As they ate Jess couldn't help but take him in. At first glance he looked perfectly fine, but on closer inspection it was easier to note that the ever present light in those baby blues of his was gone; and the fact that even in his most comfortable sweats at home with a beer, he was clearly fraught with tension set off the warning signals.

"So, you want to tell me what's going on?" she asked.

Don shrugged. "Pretty straightforward. I had to look at a twenty-six year old woman today and tell her that we'd found her little girl dead in a gutter in her My Little Pony PJs; the same little girl who's probably dead right now because her recovering alcoholic father fell off the wagon and left her alone to go to the liquor store while her mother was out of town."

"It's never easy Don."

"No, it's not. But it makes it worse when the most positive thing you can tell someone is that their six year old wasn't molested before she suffocated."

Angell set her slice down and shook her head. "We do the job every day Don, because we can make the world just a little bit better. That little girl won't be coming home to her mother, but you will catch the bastard who killed her and make him answer for it."

He nodded. "You know that and I know that, but it never makes it any easier."

"I know there's something else Don," Jess told him. "If you don't want to talk about it that's fine, but it seems like you could use someone to listen, and since I'm already here…" she teased.

It was damn amazing that his smile still managed to be radiant even when he was so subdued, but there it was. "Might as well use you as my own personal departmental shrink?"

"If you want to look at it that way." She decided to give him a lead in and popped open another beer, carrying it to the couch with her. It wasn't surprising when she felt the other end of the couch sink under his weight. "So what's going on?"

"Work blends into personal, things get complicated."

"Care to elaborate?" Angell questioned.

That heartbroken look was back in his eyes when he spoke. "Never get involved with someone you work with Jess."

The raw pain in his voice scraped at her soul, and if it was that bad for her she couldn't imagine how he must feel. "I didn't know you were involved with anyone, Don."

"Involved would be the loose term. The more accurate term would be something like fuck buddies," Flack told her bitterly.

"I… wow."

"Yeah."

Now she was at a complete loss for words. Despite the tough exterior he tried to pass off on people, Don Flack was a really and truly good guy. He'd gotten over the youthful tendency of sleeping around somewhere near a decade ago, and since then he had been the model of discretion. The man had monogamous relationships, rarely slept with a woman on the first date, and had confessed to a very select few that he really wanted to settle down and have a family one day. Don Flack was nobody's fuck buddy; or so she had thought.

"Now you're wondering how I got myself into something like that," he commented.

"I can't help but be a little curious," Jess conceded, turning to face him and wrapping her arms around her knees where they were pulled flush to her chest. "It's not like you Don."

Flack tossed back the rest of his beer, rising briefly to grab another. When he returned he managed to start again. "It just happened one night, and after that I couldn't think of any other way to have her in my life."

"Stella," Angell whispered. "I should have known."

He looked so adorably puzzled that she almost laughed; almost. "How did you know?"

This time she did laugh, though there was little humor in it. "I'm a detective Don, I detect things. Far as I can tell you've wanted her as long as I've known you."

"All told I've wanted her longer. I didn't realize it was that obvious." He was frowning when he said it.

"Only if you're paying attention."

There was something else in her voice that he couldn't quite put his finger on, but he let it go. "I knew it was a stupid idea from the beginning, but like I said, I couldn't see another way. I was dumb enough to let myself fall in love with her, and I was dumb enough to tell her."

Jess nodded, suddenly getting it. "So that's what happened today? You told her how you felt and she doesn't feel the same?"

"Honestly Jess, I don't know. All I can tell you is that I got shot down, and I hit the ground hard." That much was clear by the look on his face. "I'm pretty sure the relationship is over, though it was more of a non-relationship I guess."

"Flack, are you honestly just going to let this go?" she questioned. "That's not the you that I know."

Don shook his head hard. "It's not, but she made it pretty damn clear exactly what she wanted, and it ain't me."

"I have a really hard time believing that Don."

His eyes went just a bit hard and he laughed humorlessly. "Believe it."

It was late when Angell made it home, though not as late as she had expected. Flack had refused to go into detail about what Stella had said to him, and while she couldn't blame him for not wanting to relive it, she was still worried. But that was no surprise, as she spent a great deal of time worrying over him.

As she sank into her bed, it struck Jess how truly amazing it was that she had held herself together all night. It had been difficult as hell over the past few years to watch her partner yearn for Stella Bonasera, and it had been difficult as hell to listen to him talk tonight; because the only thing worse than watching your partner's heart bleed as he waited for someone he may never have was feeling your own heart bleed for that same partner for the very same reason.

She wasn't sure how long she'd had feelings for Don Flack, but all things considered it had probably been for quite a long time. Their few dates hadn't gone anywhere, but considering the way she knew he felt about Stella that really shouldn't have surprised her as much as it did. She had been holding out hope for so long that there was something else between them other than flirting and playful banter, and she had been woefully disappointed.

As much as it hurt, she was forced to admit that Don really was in love with Stella, and that it was likely she was the only one for him. Still, she couldn't believe that Stella had shot him down so harshly; that just wasn't like her. For the second time that day, she found herself wondering what else was going on, and as she did she felt her anger rise. What right did Stella have to be so callous and cold as to put Flack in that state of mind? What the hell was so wrong with her that she couldn't see what was right in front of her?

She tossed and turned for hours before any kind of relief came in the form of fitful sleep, though it was hardly relief at all. The last thought she had before she drifted off was that no matter what Don would think about it, and despite the fact that it probably wasn't her place, she was going to find Stella Bonasera tomorrow and try to figure out what the hell her damage was.

Note From The Author—Don't hate me! I promise you that Stella really isn't an evil witch, but you'll have to keep reading to understand what's going on. It shouldn't be too hard to figure out, but for those of you who are preparing your pitchforks to come after me for demonizing Stella I swear it will get better.

PS—I'm forced to recognize the fact that her name is Jess, especially after Flack called her that like three times, so from this point on it'll be Jess. Changes have been made to this chapter