Thank you to those who reviewed Opening! This does follow on, but it's not essential for you to have read it to understand what's going on here! However, if you do go back to read Opening, please leave a review!

Its set prior to 4.13, so may contain ever so slight spoilers.

Let me know what you think.

I do not own any characters in CSI:NY.

The Call

The night had a chill to its whisper, cool air filtering into the apartment through small cracks and urging its people to pull out blankets and switch on heaters. Outside, the city was still awake, darkness a duvet under which people did unspeakable things, things which daylight should never see.

Angell curled her legs under herself and pulled the fleece blanket up to her chin, revelling in feeling warm and safe in her home. She had taken refuge after a hard couple of days in which she had done more overtime than she would probably get paid for, and filled in enough papers to make environmental groups picket the precinct. Now she was able to enjoy a drink safe in the knowledge that her next shift didn't begin until midday tomorrow, and as her cell was switched off she was unlikely to be disturbed from watching crap TV. Her eyelids half closed with the warmth and tiredness of the almost-just, but she forced them to stay open. There was no way she was going to waste time by sleeping. No way.

The forensics programme ended and a repeat of Saturday's reality talent show had just begun when she was woken by banging at her door. She cursed a word under her breath that her mother still didn't think she knew and stripped herself of the blanket, stumbling to the door. She had no idea who would be calling at such a time. There were too many potential suspects, including one very errant brother who was in the city for a bachelor party, and as much as she loved him, she did not want to provide him and his friends a place to stay after they had been booted out of their motel.

"Flack," she said, opening the door without checking through the spy hole. "And Danny." Flack was grim faced and decidedly sober. Danny was struggling to stand up, Flack's arm supporting him – just. "You had better come in." Flack looked at her, about to speak, gesturing towards her bedroom, Danny clearly about to pass out. "Take him in there," she said. "I'll bring a bowl in case…"

She heard the two men exchanging words in the bedroom; Flack speaking sternly, Danny clearly unhappy. She knew the reason Danny was in such a state. Ruben Sandoval's death was still haunting him, a ghost continually walking the corridors of his mind, and at the moment, only extinguished by looking at the bottom of a bottle. Flack had spent a good portion of their last job together filling her in with his worries about Danny and his difficulty in dealing rationally with Ruben Sandoval's death.

The percolator began to make familiar noises, the smell of coffee beginning to permeate the apartment. She figured that Flack would be in need of a drink that wasn't alcoholic, even if Danny couldn't hold anything down.

"I'm sorry about this, Jess," Flack said, emerging from the bedroom, hands in suit pockets. He looked fed up and tired. She handed him a mug of coffee; sweet and milky. "You mind if I sit down?"

She eyed him, mimicking her mother's disapproving glare. "Seeing as I didn't mind you bring him here in the first place, not that I had much choice, I'm hardly going to refuse you a seat, am I?"

He laughed, his face finally breaking free of the unamused expression of before. He knew her too well by now to know when she wasn't being serious. "As you can see, Danny got wrecked. He didn't want to go home, and the bar manager was about to throw him out…"

"And I'm the nearest point of safety," she finished, one hand on her hips, the other holding coffee.

"And you're the best looking cop in pajamas," he said, his eyes flashing blue. She laughed. "That was lame, wasn't it?"

She nodded. "The lameness gets kind of endearing after a while."

"I needn't feel so bad then," his expression twisted in between embarrassment and amusement. "About Danny."

She smiled at his attempt to digress from his awkwardness. "About Danny," she sat down next to him, putting her feet up on the couch and pulling the fleece blanket around her. From the sounds that were coming from her bedroom, it was liable to be a long night.

"He wanted to go for a few drinks after work. I was late leaving, so he'd already gotten a head start. I suggested we go get something to eat, but he wasn't interested," Flack's tone of voice was impatient and frustrated. Danny had clearly been doing his impression of a brick wall.

"Who else was in the bar?" Angell said as Flack pulled the blanket over his feet which were now bare of shoes and on her couch.

"Adam was there for a while, and then some cops from the precinct – Mulligan was celebrating getting his degree absolute. Lindsay turned up, saw what state Danny was getting himself into and disappeared, giving me a dirty look in the process," Flack said, draining his coffee. He paused, looking at her. "I'm sorry, Jess. I shouldn't have just brought Danny here like this. You know, you've had a busy couple of days and you didn't need this."

She shrugged, nonchalant as usual; very little fazed her, having seen most of it before, given her family and dad's job. "I'm the nearest place, other than Lindsay. I can understand you not just putting him in a cab."

Flack nodded, diverting his eyes from her. "And I guess I needed someone sober to talk to, and you know most of what lead up to this."

"And you wanted to see me," she said, enjoying the redness that coloured his cheeks. "And I'm glad you came, although I hope you realise you'll be washing those sheets in there." She gestured to the bedroom.

Flack smiled, letting her comments pass. "I'm worried about, Danny. Seriously worried. He won't talk to anyone about it; he's having trouble going home so he's out all the time…"

"He's not going to Lindsay's?" she interrupted. She knew Danny as a colleague and as Flack's friend. A few times they'd been out after work as a three, and she'd found him good company, if a little intense at times.

"I don't know what's been going on there, either. First he was completely smitten by her and now he forgets her birthday," Flack said, indignation entering his tone.

Angell reached over to the coffee table and flicked the TV off. The sounds coming from the bedroom had turned to silence. "And I bet you never forgot a girlfriend's birthday," she said, trying to lighten Flack, to help him get things in perspective.

"Honestly, Jess, I don't think I did. I'm not saying that to sound like I'm perfect or anything, but if I wasn't interested any longer I ended it. If I was interested, I would remember anyway," he rested back against the cushions, his legs brushing hers. She felt almost as if she was back in high school, sat with her first boyfriend, both of them too unsure and shy to make the first move and enjoying what ever accidental touch occurred.

"His head's elsewhere. He's been through shit and at the moment, the light at the end of his tunnel has been switched off," she said. "I know I'm probably not being much help here, but all you can do is keep doing what you're doing now – and be his friend." She felt his hand rest on her ankle and her skin responded to his touch. She was pleased he'd come to her, that he was here, and she hoped it showed to him.

"I'm scared he's going to screw everything up, Jess. It got to the point tonight where I thought the only solutions were to either arrest him or to phone Mac to come and talk some sense into him. I practically had to drag him out of there," the pained expression crossed his face again and Angell wished she could somehow solve it.

"Were there any other cops in there at the end?" she said. She didn't want stories about Danny's issues making it to the water cooler.

Flack shook his head. "They'd all left," he said. "That was one saving grace."

"And you got him out of there before he caused any trouble. He's his own person, Flack. He's lucky he's got you," she looked at him, intensity in her eyes, feeling a warmth inside her. His hand was now on her calf, more than a friendly gesture, though she realised that he was unaware of his touch.

"Danny's a good friend to me. It cuts both ways," he said. She nodded. "You're on a late shift, aren't you?"

"Twelve start. Should have been two but someone's off. You're on an early?"

"Unfortunately. I really should get some sleep." He looked around the room as if expecting an extra bed to appear. "I'll go home and come back for Danny before shift starts. Or, you can take my keys and have my apartment," he looked at her and grinned. "Though I'm sure you don't want to go half way across Manhattan in your PJ's."

"Stay here. I can pull off the cushions from the couch to make an extra bed on the floor and I've spare pillows and an extra duvet," she said. "Then you can just get up and go in to work."

Flack nodded, stretching. "Point me in the direction of things – you still got that spare toothbrush?"

Angell grinned, remembering the first time they had had 'Irish coffee' and he'd stayed, sleeping on the couch that would soon be dismantled. "It's still in the bathroom."

They set up the living room into a sleepover space, pushing the small table away so that the cushions lay next to the couch. Flack returned from the bathroom wearing her bathrobe, his suit clearly having been hung up. She laughed at the sight.

"What's so funny?" he said, trying to act manly in pink.

"I have seen men in their underwear before – in fact I have seen you in your underwear before," she said as he moved under the duvet onto the floor cushions.

"When?" he said, looking startled in the faint light of the lamp she was about to turn off.

"You were finishing your shift with a shower – possibly going out to meet Devon or some girl, least that's what it smelt like," she said, vivid pictures in her mind.

"I obviously made an impression."

"Not as great as wearing my pink bathrobe. I wish I had my cell so I could record it and put it on YouTube."

"It would be more than your life's worth, Angell," his voice was tired and lazy. She knew that tomorrow the bathrobe would smell of him and that thought made her heart beat a little faster.

She switched the light off, leaving the room in darkness, except for the distant neon lights that managed to sneak through the blinds. She could hear the hum of outside, of a city that never did sleep, the nightlife slipping about their business, far too dirty for the day to see.

"Flack," she said as his breathing grew deeper.

"Jessie," she heard, surprised at the derivative of her name.

"Do you snore?"

"I don't know; I'm never awake to hear."

She reached down and grabbed his hair with her hand, the deep breathing becoming suddenly short. "Jess!"

"Sorry. Couldn't resist."

She heard him move and felt his face close to hers. She could make out his features in the darkness, the dim light hitting the contours of his face. "This reminds me of birthdays when I was a kid and my parents used to let friends stay over," he said, and she felt disappointed with the words.

"I was never allowed boys to stay over though," she said, trying to let memories distract her from the present.

"I'm not surprised. If I had been your father I would have locked you up like Rapunzel," he said, his voice sounding awake. "But I imagine you always found a way to let down your hair."

She laughed quietly. "But the boys never dared climb it," she said. She heard him laugh as he lay back down, a thoughtful laugh, one that made her curious. "What you thinking, Flack?"

"That we should sleep."

She reached down and prodded him with her finger, to be met with his hand catching hers. She left it there, feeling the warmth against the cool of the night as it covered the city, concealing its deeds and providing a shroud for those that wished their gestures to remain hidden, at least for now.

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