Hey guys! Sorry, I've been working on a couple've other stories at the moment. But I updated Because we are Broken!

Anyhow, this one is for pinkbananasmoothie, aka Em, because he reviews make me laugh. Plus she has funny reactions to Don Flack, so this should drive you crazy hon!

Anna

Disclaimer: … Bite me.


And oh, how could you do it?

Oh I, I never saw it coming

Oh, oh, how could you do it?

Oh I, I never saw it coming


The air-conditioning in the precinct was still not working. Angell was sat at her desk, sweating through the thin cami and trousers, cursing every lucky bastard in the city who was lucky enough to work near a freezer. She should've been a chef. Other than the fact that her culinary skills were limited to beans on toast, it was a foolproof plan.

"Christ on a freakin' bike it's hot in here!" Martinez exclaimed as he entered the squadroom.

Angell glared at him. "Ya don't say? I have been stuck in here, and it's like an oven! At least you've been out on the beat."

"I'm sorry, Angell. I didn't realise."

She smiled at his earnest face.

"How about you take a shower?"

"Uh, mixed sex showers?"

"They have cubicles..."

She weighed it up. Usually, the risk of someone walking in outweighed any benefit of showering at work, but on a day like today... "Sure. But do me a favour and don't let anyone else shower for ten minutes. I don't want anyone walking in, thank you very much..."

He smirked, but nodded. "Sure thing."


(A/N: Here's the bit for you, Em)

Don let the cool water wash over his chest, relishing the way that the cold streams hit his chest like bullets.

Strangely, cold water eased off his muscles as well as hot water.

As Danny said, he was weird.

He shut off the water and towelled down quickly, wiping over his biceps and toned chest. He only had five minutes, then he'd be back on shift.

*****

Angell checked that no-one was in the locker room before pulling her tank top over her head, dropping it onto the wooden bench before her.

"Oh my. What have I done to deserve this today?"

She jumped at the voice behind her. "Flack, what the hell? I told Martinez not to let anyone in!"

"Actually, I was here before you."

For the first time, Angell noticed what he was wearing.

This was to say, very little.

He had a small white towel clutched round his waist, the top of which fell dangerously low. Water was still glistening on his broad chest, His shoulders thick leading into bulging biceps. He noticed her staring, and grinned.

She'd never really looked at him like that before. His button down shirts and flak jacket did not the justice his body deserved.

He grinned again, and pulled on a shirt – minus his trademark wifebeater - eliminating all temptation from Angell's mind.

(A/N: Wait… Don Flack shirtless and dripping wet… mmm… must… stay… conscious…)

*****

Don blinked as he watched Angell. He pulled on his trousers and tried not to stare as she lowered the top she had clutched when he alerted her to his presence.

"Don't stare," she chided, and he could hear the laughter in her voice. She leant over and shimmied out of her black work trousers, and was stood facing away from him in only a set of white lacy underwear, leaving not a lot to his imagination.

Her figure was unbelievable.

Toned, yet still soft, except for her legs and midsection. Her legs were tanned and strong – he guessed she was a runner. But also a kickboxer, if the sight of her strong back served him correctly.

Maybe a swimmer?

It didn't matter much to him anyway.

All he knew was that she was Cailín dathúil, as his grandfather would say.

Angell whirled round to see Don buttoning up his shirt. "Don't even think about being here when I get out, ya got that, Flack?"

He chortled.

"What?"

"You're cute when you're angry."

"Flack… was that a line?"

"I do not need lines, Detective."

"Ooh, sure…"

He grimaced. "Well, maybe…"

"I gotta shower. Get outta here…"

*****

She turned the shower and smiled as the cool water pelted her body. Flack must have been in this cubicle. He always did leave the water cooler than normal. Angell thought about him. Were they friends?

She guessed they were. He spent a lot of time with her, that was for sure. Drinks, coffees, whatever the day threw at them, she knew he was going to be there at the end of it, with the offer of some sort of drink.

Again, she sighed. He couldn't be anything more than just her friend.

A spot on the NYPD homicide squad, that was a much-coveted role, for men and women, so she had to hold onto it, and she wasn't going to throw it away for a guy.

She couldn't.

She was Detective Angell, tough female cop with an extremely limited tolerance for bullshit. Boyfriends did not fit into that equation.

The water had washed away the heat from her skin, putting her in a far better mood.

She towelled off as quickly and efficiently as she could in a two by two shower cubicle, not daring to do it in the locker room, in case some idiotic rookie came in halfway through and spread it all over the precinct.

That would be all she needed.


Flack had waited. He had waited patiently for ten minutes, with squat to do – other than Angell's paperwork, and he wasn't doing that for her… until she told him her first name, at any rate.

Angell came out of the squadroom, her hear tousled and damp.

"Hey, Don." She smiled.

"You gotta tell me sometime, y'know."

"Tell you what?"

"Your name."

Angell laughed and shook her head. "Ain' gonna happen, Doonie."

She used his nickname. Now, it was war… "Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No. Not a chance in hell."

"I'll get it put of you sometime, you know that?" He warned her, eyebrows raised.

"Sure, Flack. Keep on dreamin'."

"D'you want a lift home?"

"Um… sure." She smiled her dazzling smile at him.

He took a deep breath. "I have a favour I need to ask…"


Aaand I think we'll finish there for now.

Next time, we'll pick it up, and you'll find out Don's secret from 'Hot summer'.

I promise…

Lyrics are Paramore's When it Rains. Love ittt!

Review?