Disclaimer: I own nothing of value. I'm just a poor old Nursing Student who enjoys writing. While reading all of the Blue Bloods fan fiction, I thought Frank needed a story. This may be a one shot, or it may be more, depending on reviews. (Be kind, please?). Please read and review. Thank you!

"Maria, would you hurry up?" Gabriel D'Angelo called to his wife. "Adriana's here. We're waiting for you."

"I'll be there in a minute, Gabe. Cool your tush. And kiss Adriana for me," Maria called from her lavish bathroom. She gave her lashes a final swipe of mascara and reached for her bottle of Chanel No. 5, applying some to her wrists and to the back of her neck.

Gabriel kissed his daughter's cheek before taking a step back to admire the dress she wore. He whistled softly. "You look beautiful, Mia Bambina. You're going to turn every man's head tonight."

Adriana felt the blood rushing to her cheeks and bowed her head. She never could accept a compliment without blushing. As a teenager, it was cute. As an adult, it was embarrassing. "Thank you, Papa." She raised her head and looked at him. "Do I really have to go tonight?"

"Of course you do. You have to put in the appearance the same as your Mother and I."

"You're going to eat my chicken, right?"

Gabriel smiled. "I'll eat your chicken," he agreed.

"You still trying to give your chicken away, Aid?" Maria asked as she joined her husband and daughter.

Adriana nodded. "No meat. Ever again."

Maria sighed. "Aid, that incident with the was when you were five years old. You can't keep avoiding meat forever."

"I can and I will. I don't like it. And I don't want to get sick like that ever again. "

Gabriel opened the apartment door. "Ladies, the Mayor awaits," he said as he made a sweeping after you gesture with his hand.

Adriana heard the door open and heard someone step outside. A few seconds later, she smelled cigar smoke. She breathed in the pleasant scent, and turned to see who was joining her on the terrace.

"Judge D'Angelo, I didn't expect to see you here this evening," he greeted.

"Commissioner Reagan. I didn't expect to see you here, either."

Frank chuckled. "It is good to see you though."

"And you as well," she said as she sipped at her wine. "Had to sneak out for a smoke because the politics in the other room is getting to you?"

"I don't do politics."

"I thought I didn't either. Then I get invited to the party."

"And you're bored out of your mind?" he offered.

"I wouldn't call it bored, exactly. It was worth it to hear Tony Bennett sing."

Frank wrinkled his brows. She was too young to enjoy Tony Bennett. He had her figured for about Erin's age.

"You like Tony Bennett?"

"Very much."

He took a step closer to her and took a puff of his cigar. "Thought you might be a bit too young for Tony Bennett."

"One is never too young for a legend, Commissioner. Especially one like Tony Bennett."

Frank studied her face as he puffed his cigar again. Too young. Too pretty. Definitely too smart. But there was something about her that made him want to stay and talk to her longer.

"I guess you are right there. And it's Frank."

"Adriana."

"Beautiful name. It suits you."

She blushed. This time she was grateful for the darkness so he couldn't see her pink cheeks. "Thank you," she said softly. "That's kind of you to say."

The door opened once again and another female stepped out. "Dad?" the woman asked.

"I'll be right there, Erin," Frank said, not taking his eyes off of Adriana. "I have to go. Thank you for the conversation and pleasant company."

"Thank you, Commissioner. Erin is a good attorney. I'm sure you're proud."

"I'm proud of all of my children, Adriana."

"Of course you are."

He smiled. "Have a good evening."

Inside, Erin waited for Frank. As he stepped back inside, she glanced toward the terrace. "Judge D'Angelo? I didn't know you knew her."

"I don't," Frank confessed. "I just know of her."

"She's a good Judge. Her Mom is a DA."

"And her father is Mr. Criminal Defense. "

"Don't hold that against her. She really is fair."

"You would know. Are you ready to get out of here?"

"No, but you are. You're dying for that glass of scotch."

He held out his arm to her. "Yes, I am. Politics and Reagans just don't mix."