A/N: This is a spin-off to RaiN-n-Rizzlesgal's Adam/OC fic 'That Old Feeling.' Who can guess which movie has the quote: "Your mom goes to college!" without Googling it? All mistakes are mine. Isabella is based on Joanna Pacitti and Armando is based on Mark Strong.

Disclaimer: I own no one of CSI: NY. RaiN-n-Rizzlesgal owns Denver and Hayden Sandusky. I own Isabella Pacino and her family.

Summary: "This ain't lust, I know this is love" Isabella didn't want to let anyone in after being abandoned by her ex-boyfriend, but Don was the exception. He had always been the exception. Established Flack/OC 'Flacino' relationship Danny/OC 'Danver', eventual Adam/OC 'Rossdusky'

Please don't chain that door

I can't win this war

Your body's like a pill I shouldn't take

Jake Owen — Alone With You

When Don met Isabella Pacino for the first time, he had no earthly idea that she would be so important to him. He also didn't know she was the only daughter of FBI Agent Armando Pacino. Any NYPD cop and any unlucky son of a bitch dumb enough to cross the hard-ass's path at a bad time could vouch that Armando was a man not to be trifled with. But any red-blooded man could also vouch that his daughter was knock-down gorgeous with a smile that melted even her daddy's frozen heart and a temper to match.

Don hadn't put two and two together until he saw Armando standing in the lab, looking extremely agitated.

"Have you seen my daughter?" he demanded, his dark brown eyes resting on the younger man. Armando was around Don's height and built like a seasoned athlete with dark hair, olive skin, and dark brown eyes. One look at the man's fists and it should have been enough to send any potential suitor. Don had felt sorry for Armando's daughter.

"I didn't even know a woman was fool enough to have your kid," Danny joked next to him and was immediately silenced with a glare. That itself should have told Don to get the idea of him and Isabella out of his head right then and there. Shutting up Danny Messer was not an easy feat to do. "What's she look like?"

"Short, about five-two, small frame, long dark hair, blue eyes," Armando responded, looking around the lab. When the doors to the elevator opened, the first smile either detective had ever seen the tough FBI agent crack spread across his face. "Bambina! La mia dolce Isabella!" [Baby girl! My sweet Isabella!]

Don felt his stomach drop to the floor to see Isabella throw her arms around Armando's neck and be spun around like a little girl.

Shit.

Now, he was stuck. Just when he thought he figured out the finicky CSI, she bolted off and did something completely different. She was flighty, headstrong, and did things her way. Those personality traits alone should have told Don that she was Armando's daughter. Don knew he liked Isabella, but she was a determined little shit.

"You alright?" Denver Sandusky's voice pulled Don out of his thoughts. She looked up at him with her dark brown eyes, tucking a lock of dirty blonde hair behind her ear. "You look a little pissed."

"Your best friend's off being a pain in the ass again," he explained. Denver rolled her eyes with a snort.

"She's always being a pain in the ass," she returned. Don looked at her again.

"Then I have to ask how you put up with it," he stated.

"Simple. I just nod and agree with her. Usually, that's all you can do," she replied. "I love that girl, but she's just like her father. Flighty, headstrong, can't rein them in for nothing." It was fortunate that Don and Danny had both lucked out: they were dating two best friends. Well, Danny was dating a best friend, with Don now stuck in limbo with the other one. They had slept together for a few months now and he couldn't help but want more from her.

"That's the problem. I couldn't rein her in if my life depended on it."

"What do we got, Flack?" Isabella asked as she ducked under the yellow crime scene tape. The detective in question cast a rakish grin down at her, sending shivers rolling down her spine. This particular crime scene was in Central Park, which made her cringe. She honestly hoped a child hadn't found the dead man.

"Don't you ever wanna ask how I'm doing?" he asked with mock hurt. She laughed and bent down next to the victim, a young man seemingly in his early to mid twenties.

"Is that your way of saying you don't know who this guy is?" she returned. He shook his head. "Fine, Flack. How are you this fine winter's day?"

"I'm just fine, Pacino, how are you? See? We're conversing," he said. "Our victim is Draco Jones, twenty-five. He lives on the West Side."

Isabella set down a yellow marker next to a black leather wallet, picking up her camera. She snapped a few photos of it before she opened the wallet, scanning the cards. She found a student ID stating that Draco attended Chelsea University. "He goes to college," she commented.

"Your mom goes to college!" Officer Anderson retorted. She rolled her eyes.

"That was lame, Anderson," she informed him. Gregory Anderson was a short, lanky man with dirty blonde hair cropped in a 90's style and laughing brown eyes.

"Anything to make you smile, Blue Eyes," he replied. The sentiment made her cringe inwardly. The last person to call her that was Hayden Sandusky, her ex-boyfriend.

"Who found Jones?" she asked, changing the subject. She looked to see a young woman in jogging gear talking to a group of officers, holding an excited golden retriever by its pink collar.

"June Hastings. Says her dog broke off the leash and found Mr. Jones by the trail," Don answered, looking his memo pad. "You've been working with Mac too long, hope you know."

"I heard that," Mac informed him, holding his kit. "We expect Hawkes here soon. He's trying to direct the techs from the ME's office here."

"Well, the cause of death is probably clear. Exsanguination due to sharp force trauma to the jugular vein," Isabella offered, gesturing to the victim. "Supine position indicates body dump."

"You trying to do my job, Pacino?" she heard Sheldon tease as he walked on the scene.

"Somebody's gotta," she returned, standing up. He winked at her playfully before bending down next to Draco Jones. "But am I right?"

"When do you think time of death is?" he asked. "Since you're playing ME."

"Hey, I have done an autopsy before. Who do you think did it after Messer tossed his cookies in the nearest trash can after they brought in that decomposed victim?" she said. "I'll give you a hint: it wasn't Flack."

"Hey, I'm not in this, Short Stack. I resent being dragged into it," Don spoke up. Isabella grinned up at him and picked up her camera from around her neck.

"As long as you're on my side, I won't drag you into it," she promised. He started nodding and she rolled her eyes.

"Absolutely, babe. Anything for you," he told her, a sarcastic tint to his Queens lilt.

"You've talked to Denver, haven't you? I swear, you two are conspiring against me," she said with a shake of her head. Mac left to supervise the body being taken to the ME's van, Sheldon in tow.

"You left again last night," Don muttered next to her. Isabella sighed and set her camera back into her kit. The two of them had a complex relationship, if she could call it that. They slept together often, but liked to dodge labels and not talk about it. Up until a few nights ago, it had worked for them.

"Can we talk about this later? Later, as in not at work?" she requested. His frost-blue eyes darkened and she felt her face warm at his close-proximity. Her mind filled with images from last night.

"Well, this is the only time I get you alone," he pointed out. "Is it so bad that I wanna be more than just your fuck buddy?"

Yes, because you're making me want things I shouldn't. You're making me want to trust again, she thought as she flipped the hasps back home on her kit. She stood back up, fixing her coat.

"No, that's not a bad thing," she replied slowly. Isabella didn't want to let anyone else in after being abandoned by her ex-boyfriend, but Don was the exception.

He had always been the exception.