Disclaimer: I do not own CSI: NY.
Series: 'Kindred Spirits'.
Spoilers: Consequences.

Consequences

Jessica Angell wasn't an NYPD detective for no reason. During the course of her training, she had become versed in the art of picking up subtle hints from the people around her. She could tell when a witness was lying and when they were telling the truth. She could tell if family members were truly mourning a loss or if it was all a show. She could tell if a suspect was going to come quietly, or if she would have to chase them down.

There were only a few people she couldn't read. Her father was one and the captain was another. If she was completely honest with herself, she didn't mind this so much; her father was usually open with her and the less time she spent around the captain the better, as far as she was concerned.

But Detective Flack was still somewhat of a mystery. She sat opposite him every day and there were certain things she had picked up on.

She knew that a particularly bad case warranted at least three cups of coffee before lunch and a case solved successfully prompted a satisfied smile to lurk on his face. She knew that he took his coffee without cream – like many of the men she worked with; she had a feeling it felt more 'manly' taking it black – but compensated by adding extra sugar. And she knew that he could keep his cool with any suspect, no matter the case, unless it involved domestic or child abuse – two things he couldn't stand – at which point he would turn to well-rehearsed acting, the only betrayal of his anger his hands clenching under the interrogation table.

Jess had just turned to wondering why she had picked up on these little traits in the enigma that was Don Flack, when the man himself sat down at his desk, his jaw set, and began doing paperwork.

She didn't need to be a detective to know that something or someone had really gotten to him that morning. Her thoughts were confirmed, when he reached into his desk drawer, pulled out a memo book and thumbed through it, before cursing under his breath.

Reluctant to draw attention to either of them, Jess pulled a spare piece of paper from her in-tray and scribbled, You okay?, before folding it, glancing towards Gerard's office and tossing it over to the opposite desk, feeling as though she were back in high school and passing notes under the teacher's nose.

A few seconds later, it landed back on her desk and she unfolded it to see his handwriting underneath hers. Bad day. Need to talk. You hungry?

Jess glanced up at him and gave an almost unnoticeable nod, before grabbing her jacket and announcing to whoever was listening that she was taking her lunch break.

Five minutes later, Jess was sitting on a bench by the fountain in the park, with a hot-dog in each hand. Don took the seat beside her and she handed one to him asking, "That bad, huh?"

"Eat first." Don told her, taking a bite. "Talk later."

"Alright." Jess followed his lead and the two ate in silence. Once they'd finished, she waited for him to start talking, knowing that he would sooner or later. I guess I know him better than I thought.

"You hear about Mac's dead paintballer?" Don asked after a few minutes.

"Er, vaguely." Jess answered hesitantly. "Found shot in a warehouse holding the Thanksgiving Parade balloons, right?"

"Right." Don confirmed. "CSI found traces of black cocaine on the scene."

"Okay." Jess frowned in thought. "Well, assuming the kid wasn't selling, he might've stumbled on someone else." She knew there had to be something else though; if Flack was looking for a sound-board, he'd have done it back in the precinct.

"Cocaine is as unique as fingerprints; each cut has a different chemical make-up." Don told her.

"Yeah, I remember Lindsay telling me." Jess nodded. "So?"

"So the coke they found is identical to a stash one of my team recovered from a raid six months ago." Don sighed. "Mac wants me to turn over my memo book."

"What?" Jess stared at him. "He's actually accusing one of our guys of skimming?"

"That's what I said; told him I'd think about it." Don shook his head. "There had to be another explanation. But I went to the prison today; the dealer told me there was 53k of cocaine at that place. We seized and destroyed 50."

Jess sucked in a breath. "So what happened to the other 3?"

"I dunno." Don admitted. "But I don't like what I'm coming up with. I was in the kitchen. It was the others who found the coke; I never questioned that was all they found."

"Don, this isn't your fault." Jess told him.

"I know; I just…" Don turned to face her. "What do I do, Angell? Do I hand over the memo book?"

"Yes." Jess responded immediately. "Let's say you're right and you just missed the last 3k. Mac will find some way of proving that. But if you're wrong … if we're both wrong … and one of our guys did skim … if Mac has to subpoena that book – and we both know he will – it'll look like you're covering for him. And you're too good a detective to lose your job over that."

"That's the other thing." Don frowned. "Each one of that team has proved himself a hundred times and then some. What happens when every guy they've arrested starts to appeal?"

"The evidence will win out, just as it always does." Jess stated calmly. "Yeah, they'll appeal, but this is gonna get out, no matter what. And a kid is dead. Lindsay mentioned that they couldn't find the bullet, which means someone went to the trouble of removing it; someone who knows they'd be in a database. No ordinary drug-dealer takes a used weapon to a sale for that very reason, which means someone knew their gun would be in a system."

"If there's one thing I hate," Don stated darkly, "it's a bent cop."

Jess patted his arm sympathetically. "We all do."

Don sighed and checked his watch. "We'd better get back or we'll both lose our jobs."

"Right." Jess stood up. "Hey, what made you ask me, out of everyone else at the precinct?"

Don shrugged. "You noticed there was something wrong. I knew you wouldn't tell me what you thought I wanted to hear. I'd like to think we're friends by now, even if you won't tell me your first name." He gave her a weak smile. "Take your pick."

"Alright, I'll go with the last one." Jess grinned at him. "But I'm still not telling you."

His smile grew slightly. "Damn, I was hoping that'd work."

If anyone noticed them arrive back together, no one said anything. They went back to paperwork, with no indication of the conversation they'd just had, but Jess couldn't help noticing Don glance down at his desk drawer every now and then.

After a couple of hours, Mac entered the bull-pen and made his way straight over to Don's desk.

Jess could see several of the nearby detectives looking over and tried to catch Mac's eye, to ask him to do this anywhere else, in private, but he paid her no attention.

"Flack?"

Don caught her eye and she gave him a comforting smile; with a sigh, he pulled open the drawer again and pulled out the memo book. "I don't like this, Mac. I don't like the consequences this is gonna have. And I'm not talking about me. I'm talking about the hundreds of arrests this cop was involved in."

Mac sighed. "Don, don't make me subpoena it."

"Alright. Here." Don handed him the memo book. "But I want no part of this."

"Fine." Mac flipped through the book and nodded grimly, as though he was only confirming what he already knew. Under the watchful eye of every officer there, he walked over to Gerard's office and walked in, with only a knock on the door to signal his arrival.

Everyone sat in a tense silence, staring at the office, wondering what had been so important. Then the captain's door opened again.

"Detective Truby, I'd like a word!"

Truby stood, giving Don a dirty look as he walked in.

"You just got him fired." A voice spoke up. "Didn't you?"

Don didn't look up. "If he's fired, it won't be because of me. It'll be because he skimmed 3k of coke six months ago and killed a teenager last week."

"You didn't have to hand over that memo-book."

Now Don looked up, noticing what Jess had already; their co-workers had moved so that the two of them were separate from everyone else.

"Maybe I didn't. But I can't stand a bent cop." He stated coldly. "We wear these badges with pride and honour. What's honourable about shooting a kid who's in the wrong place at the wrong time?"

No one answered.

Everyone went back to what they were doing, although the atmosphere was noticeably tenser than before.

By the time her shift ended, Jess was exhausted, if only from enduring the cold glances from her colleagues. It had escaped no one's attention that she was taking Flack's side in the whole debacle and, as a result, their anger had been directed at her as well.

She reached the parking lot and stopped, catching sight of the figure standing by her car, evidently waiting for her. "Hey. What are you still doing here? Your shift ended half an hour ago."

Don smiled sheepishly. "I was kinda hoping I could catch a ride. Cooper gave me a lift in this morning."

"Sure." Jess pulled out her keys and unlocked the car, getting into the driver's seat. Almost immediately, she frowned and adjusted the seat. "I don't know why or how, but I swear this seat has moved every time I get in this thing."

Don grinned at her. "Sam says the exact same thing."

"That's your sister?" Jess asked, pulling out of the lot.

"Yeah." Don sighed and his smile slipped slightly. "She's … she's difficult."

Jess glanced at him and knew that it wasn't his sister that was bothering him. "You did the right thing today. And sooner or later, they're all going to realise that. He disgraced the badge we all wear."

"How'd you know that's what I was thinking about?" Don questioned.

"I'm not a detective for no reason." Jess reminded him with a smile.

"Neither are most of the people we work with." Don told her. "But no one else can read me that well."

Jess flushed slightly, glad the car was dark, thanks to the dim light outside. "No one else sits opposite you all day. And I'm observant."

"You think you know me that well?" Don asked.

Jess heard the challenge in his voice and rose to it. "I think so. I know that you joke about eating donuts all the time, but you actually don't like them unless they're the ones without any filling. I know you hate paperwork, but you'd rather do that than take a day off. I know you understand more of what the CSIs say than you let on. I know you see NYPD as part of your family – admittedly some more than most – and that what happened today is hurting you more than you're letting on." She glanced at him. "How am I doing so far?"

Don was gaping at her. "Angell, some of those things Danny hasn't even caught on to, and I've known him for years. How did you pick up on all of that?"

Jess shrugged. "Observation. Funnily enough, I was just thinking to myself this morning that you're one of the few people I can't work out."

"That doesn't happen often I take it?" Don questioned; she shook her head. "Well, I'm honoured that I've caught your attention."

Jess smirked at him. "When did I say you had my attention? Those are just little things I've noticed; the rest is as big a mystery as Cooper's girlfriend."

This broke the slight tension in the car and they both laughed; Cooper had – allegedly – been dating a woman for the last couple of months, but no one had actually seen her, despite the fact that he insisted that she was a swimsuit model.

"He must've invented her." Don stated. "If I was dating a swimsuit model, I'd make sure all my friends had met her."

"Unless you were afraid of her leaving you for one of them." Jess suggested.

"Angell, it's me." Don rolled his eyes. "Like she'd leave me."

"Now who's the modest one?" Jess asked, reminding him of the conversation they'd had a few months ago.

"Seriously, Angell, how do you know so much about me?" Don asked, changing the subject. "I still don't even know your first name."

"I'm sure you know more about me than you think." Jess told him, knowing that he'd take the challenge just as she had.

She was right. "Alright. You tell me off all the time for taking so much sugar with my coffee, even though you take just as much. You always do the paperwork you hate first to get it out of the way. You can always keep calm interrogating suspects, but I always know when you're about to lose it with them, because you start playing with your hair…"

"I do not." Jess protested.

"Yeah, you do." Don grinned. "How do you think I know when to interrupt?"

Jess thought back to the last couple of interrogations and realised that he was right; the knock at the door had come precisely when she felt ready to strangle the person opposite her, giving her time to cool down. "Okay, maybe I do."

"I know that the one crime you have no patience for is child abuse." Don continued. "But I'm with you all the way on that one. And I know that you should have been promoted to second-grade way before now. How's that?"

"More than most people know about me." Jess answered. Then his words hit her. "You think I should have been promoted?"

"Hell yeah." Don responded immediately. "You're amazing at what you do, Detective."

"Stop it, Flack; you're making me blush." Jess smiled, stopping the car. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah." Don got out of the car and she watched him walk up to the door of his apartment building, fighting an internal battle.

Finally, she rolled down the passenger side window. "Hey, Detective!" She waved him back.

Don jogged back to the car and leaned down to look in. "What's up?"

"Jessica." Jess laughed at the confused expression on his face. "That's my name. Everyone calls me Jess. And if this gets out, you're a dead man."

The smile he gave her set her heart beating ten times faster than it had been. "I don't doubt that. See you tomorrow, Jess."

This time, she didn't call him back. As soon as the door swung closed behind him, she set off home, so consumed by her thoughts that she hardly paid attention to her actions, parking automatically behind her building. Her feet seemed to barely touch the ground until she reached the quiet darkness of her apartment.

Jess switched the lights on, glancing down at the letters in her hand, wondering when she picked them up. She flicked through them, tossing bills onto the kitchen table, pausing at what looked like a letter from her parents, which caused her to smile fondly; her father had always hated the idea of emails, saying they were impersonal, so he made a note to write to his children at least once a month.

Thoughts of her father reminded her of the long lecture she had received before she started at the Academy, mostly about the dangers of what she wanted to do and the hardships she would encounter as a woman in a mostly male-dominated workforce. But he had ended on a different note and she could hear his voice in her head as she remembered his words.

"Just remember, Jessie, that dating a co-worker is always risky, but in this field it is nothing less than career suicide. I've seen many good cops brought down in the field because they were distracted by the safety of their significant other. The worst thing you can do fall for a colleague, especially if they're your partner."

Jess closed her eyes and collapsed onto the couch. Lately, Gerard had been making noises about assigning people partners, beginning to crack from the pressure from the higher-ups. These wouldn't be constant – most detectives would continue to work solo – but there would always be cases that required more than one detective; as soon as those partners were finalised, they would be permanent.

When the rumours had first reached her, Jess had found herself hoping that she and Don would end up partners; he was one of the few people she worked with that she would trust with her life – theoretically, she knew she could trust all of them, but that didn't mean she'd feel comfortable in a life-or-death situation with them the only thing watching her back.

Now she began to think that maybe it wasn't such a good idea.

Her cell-phone began to ring and she answered automatically. "Angell."

"Angell, it's Gerard. I just want to let you know that I'm assigning partners now. You'll still work solo most of the time, but the rest of the time, you'll be working with Detective Flack."

"Yes sir. Thanks for letting me know." Jess heard the phone ring off at the other end and hung up, letting her head fall back against the back of the couch.

Sorry, Daddy. I think I'm falling for my partner.

AN: Review please!