A/N:

i) Thank you for setting a challenge Messersmontana, I've been completely devoid of inspiration lately.

ii) I've never watched Camp Rock, although I did watch a huge group of teenage girls chase the Jonas Brothers' tour bus a few weeks ago.

iii) My writing ability isn't great at the moment - post holiday slush I think.

iv) Owning CSI (and Flack) is something that only happens in my dreams.


"You're the voice I hear inside my head. The reason that I'm singing. I need to find you. I gotta find you…"

Don Flack was standing under the shower, hair full of shampoo, and absent mindedly singing as he washed away the trials and tribulations of another day serving the city. He and Jess had been at the Precinct until the early hours running a tag-team style interrogation. It wasn't often that they got to work together since her return, but over the course of the night they'd fallen back into their old routine with ease. After her months of absence, he'd almost forgotten quite how ruthless and manipulative Jess could be when she wanted a confession.

Suddenly, he was distracted by a snort of laughter and a sing-song voice calling his name. "Fla-ack?"

Pulling back the shower curtain a little, he peered out. Jess was leaning against the vanity unit, toothbrush in hand and a look that said she was clearly highly amused by something. She'd got as far as discarding her shoes, socks and shirt, so was left in jeans and a silky purple bra that seemed to make her breasts look even better than usual. After admiring her chest for a few moments, Flack moved his eyes upwards to meet hers, "Uh-huh?"

Jess bit her lip to prevent another snort of laughter escaping before asking, "Are you singing a Jonas Brothers song?!"

Although Flack was deeply ashamed to admit it, he knew fine well that it was a Jonas Brothers number. Within the past week he'd spent a ridiculous amount of money on concert tickets for his nieces to see the teenage trio and had an alarmingly surreal debate with Jess' nine year old niece, during which he'd put forward his case that High School Musical was in fact the better of the twenty-first century Disney musicals. Lexie Angell had agreed that High School Musical was good, but stuck to her guns that Camp Rock was better…Joe Jonas apparently trumped Zac Efron any day.

"You're so cute Donnie! Singing like a little girl," Jess teased. Blowing him a kiss before laughing again, she helpfully pointed out, "Look at you! You're blushing!"

Scowling, Flack disappeared back under the water and yanked the curtain closed. It wasn't that he liked the band, it just so happened that the track had recently had a lot of air time and was kind of catchy. Jess wasn't any better! She knew what the song was after all…plus, she'd been the one singing about kissing a girl and liking it not that long ago (although he liked the mental picture of that very much indeed).

As he rinsed the soap from his hair, Flack began, silently, mulling over the song. For a kid not even old enough to drive, the Jonas boy did seem to have a lot of things worked out.

:-:-:

"I need to try to get to where you are."

Getting to Jess after hearing the gunshots was all Flack could think about. Although he'd told Terrence Davis to get out the car, he couldn't have cared less if Davis had been in it or not when he'd reached the diner.

"When I find you it will be all right."

Flack had truly though that it would be okay when he got to the diner. He'd thought it was some crazy attempt at a robbery and by the time he reached Jess, she'd have a couple of kids on the floor in cuffs and he'd be able to take her to lunch to compensate for missing breakfast.

"…can't find the words to say."

When the ER nurse had appeared in front of him, Flack had just read her somber expression. The nurse's lips had moved but he hadn't heard her words. Jess' blood was on his shirt, and his hands, and over the back seat of the patrol car. He was sure no one could lose that amount of blood and still be alive. No matter how much he wanted her to be alive; he didn't think it was possible. So, when Danny arrived he'd shaken his head and mouthed "She's gone," before breaking down.

After punching the wall, Danny had regained some composure and tracked down a nurse to quiz about Jess' fatal injuries. As Danny began talking, he'd corrected his sentence to use her name in the past tense and the nurse had frowned, "Detective Angell? GSW to the abdomen? Carried in by her partner?" Danny had nodded. "There's some kind of misunderstanding. The Detective's gone to the OR. She's critical but seems to be holding her own."

Danny had made the nurse repeat herself at least three times, and then take him to the OR viewing gallery so he could see for himself. He'd watched the surgeons work on Jess and listened as the nurse explained what they were doing. Then he'd gone to find Flack.

"She's not gone." Danny had spoken slowly as if it was a child he was facing and not a thirty-something First Grade Detective, "She's in the OR right now. She's serious but Don, Jess is not gone." Even after almost being killed by bomb, Danny had never seen his friend and colleague look so lost. Usually Flack was the one who was calm and collected, but now it was his turn. Leading Flack to the OR viewing gallery, the pair had watched as the surgeons continued working to remove the Desert Eagle slugs before repairing the damage. And then he'd sat with Flack throughout the night, handing over plastic cups of coffee from the machine until the drug induced sleep had been lifted and Jess' eyes finally opened.

Neither of them had spoken after "Jess is not gone," left Danny's lips. Neither of could find the words.

:-:-:

Turning off the water and wrapping a towel around his waist, Flack leaned against the bathroom door as he brushed his teeth and watched Jess finish undressing. She yawned as she pulled on one of his t-shirts before flashing a grin when she caught him staring. With one eye trained on Jess as she wriggled around under the sheets to get comfortable, he went about brushing and changing and double checking that the apartment door was bolted.

"What? No more girly singing?!" she chuckled when he finally slid into bed. Easing himself around her, Flack tickled her waist where he knew it was most sensitive and crooned softly against her ear.

"Oh, next to you and you next to me."

Squirming away from his mischievous hands, Jess smiled sleepily "You're so funny," before kissing him tenderly. "But I like it best that way...when I'm next to you and you're here Don, next to me."