Disclaimer: I do not own CSI: NY, but I do own Officer Isobel Wilson.
Series: 'Kindred Spirits'.
Spoilers: Taxi – everything in bold comes directly from the episode - ; You Only Die Once.
Taxi
Beep … beep … beep …
Glancing at her cell-phone screen and faking a grimace, Jess gave her companion an apologetic look. "Excuse me; I have to return this."
"Sure."
Jess stood and made her way into the lobby of the restaurant, dialling the number onscreen.
"Flack."
"Hey, I got your page." Jess smiled slightly. "You telepathic?"
"No. We got a situation; some guy claiming to be the Cabbie Killer. You want me to pick you up?"
"Thanks." Jess sighed in relief. "You know where I am." She hung up and turned to see her date moving towards her.
He gave her a charming smile that might have caused any other woman to change her mind, but it didn't fool Jess for a second. "Bill came while you were on the phone. You wanna get out of here?" He guided her out of the door before she had a chance to respond.
"Listen," Jess began. "Thank you for dinner, but that was my partner; I've got to go in to work."
"You never mentioned what you did." He reminded her.
"I don't really like 'talking shop' when I'm off." Jess stated. "And I was too intrigued by your explanation of the stock markets." So intrigued I was trying not to fall asleep. "I'm a …"
"I paid for dinner." He interrupted.
Ah, he's one of them. Jess smiled tightly. "Well, if you'd waited, I would have paid for half. And …"
"Well can I give you a ride?"
I swear; you're not listening to a word I say. Jess forced herself to keep the smile on her face, slipping her cell phone back in her purse, this time making sure he could see her off-duty weapon. "That's very kind of you, but my partner offered to pick me up." She was very aware of his hand still on her lower back and moved away, only for him to move his grip to her upper arm. "Look …"
"Jess!"
Now it was another, more familiar voice interrupting her and Jess turned to see Don closing exiting his car.
"You okay?" He asked, his eyes moving between her and her date.
"I'm fine." Jess answered, covertly trying to move away, but his grip tightened.
"You must be the partner." He concluded, either missing the badge on Don's belt or ignoring it; Jess assumed it was the former.
"Detective Don Flack." Don confirmed. "And as well as your date seems to be going," his gaze lingered on her upper arm, his tone dripping with sarcasm, "Detective Angell and I have a serial killer to catch. So you let go of her arm and I won't arrest you for harassing an officer."
"It's okay, Don." Jess told him quietly. "He was just leaving."
With a look that could have killed, he released her arm and stalked away without another word.
Jess exhaled slowly. "Thanks."
"You're welcome." Don glared after him, opening the passenger door to his car for her. "What was all that about?"
"Typical guy." Jess stated bluntly. She waited for him to close his own door and start the engine. "He paid for dinner, therefore I owe him."
Don scowled and muttered something incomprehensible under his breath. "Generalising a bit there, aren't you? Not all guys think that."
"No." Jess agreed. "The others are waiting for the third date so they can get you into bed."
"That's not true!" Don protested.
"Oh, yeah?" Jess raised an eyebrow. "What date was interrupted when Devon's apartment was broken into?"
"Third." Don answered.
"Uh huh, and what would have happened if you hadn't been interrupted?" Jess asked knowingly, ignoring the nausea in her stomach at the words.
"You wanna stop by your place and change?" Don asked. "Our guy ain't goin' anywhere."
"You're changing the subject." Jess stated. She glanced down at her dress. "Is there something wrong with what I'm wearing?"
"No!" Don insisted immediately. "No, you look fantastic. But you prefer that your colleagues don't know your first name to keep things professional; something tells me you'd rather change before we pick this guy up. Especially since he's completely hammered."
Jess laughed quietly. "You know me too well."
Ten minutes later, they were on their way, Jess comfortably back in her work clothes. "So a guy gets drunk and decides to confess to being the Cabbie Killer and they call us in?"
"Uni called me. But it sounded like your date was a bust before the call-in." Don pointed out.
Jess pulled a face. "I've never met such a pig-headed, self-absorbed jerk in my life."
"Well, speaking of dates, you owe me lunch." Don informed her.
Jess was confused for a second, before it hit her. "You finally ended it with Devon? When?"
"Just after the call came in." Don answered. "I said I'd call you to see if you could take it, but I could tell from your voice that you wanted out and for all the protests earlier, I know his type; seems completely self-centred and boring on the actual date, so his lovely companion doesn't think he's any sort of threat when he offers to drive her home." He glanced at her. "But you saw right through him, didn't you?"
"I am a detective." Jess smiled. "I bet she didn't like that too much."
Don snorted. "When I explained my reasoning to her, she blew up at me; told me that you could probably handle yourself and if you couldn't …" He paused. "Well, I'm not gonna repeat what she said. Let's just say, it's the only time I've ever felt tempted to hit a woman. I said that expecting me to choose her over work was probably reasonable, but expecting me to choose her over you was never gonna happen and if she couldn't accept that, we were probably better off as friends."
Jess smirked. "She kicked you out before you got to that last part."
"Yeah, but I meant to say it." Don insisted. "So I broke up with her."
"Alright, lunch is on me tomorrow." Jess conceded. "But I get to decide where we go."
"Deal." Don responded immediately.
"So you always gonna use me to break up with your girlfriends?" Jess teased.
Don glanced at her. "I wasn't using you to break up with her, Jess; I meant every word. It was always gonna be you over her. Every time."
"I know." Jess assured him quietly. "I was joking."
Don took one hand off the wheel and squeezed hers gently, offering her a smile that sent shivers through her.
She turned her head to gaze out of the window, the atmosphere between them staying comfortable despite the new silence. She couldn't deny the feelings that had shot through her when he told her that he'd ended things with Devon, especially when he'd told her that she was always going to be more important.
But, at the same time, she could deny how much it hurt that she was always going to be 'the best friend'. Sooner or later, she knew, some woman would come along who could handle the job and who could deal with Don's best friend being another woman and who could understand when Don turned to Jess instead. Could she handle that?
You have to. Her mind reminded her. Aside from anything else, he's your partner. And you know how messy that can be.
An hour later, it was Jess in the driver's seat, pulling up outside the precinct, with Don sat in the back with their 'suspect', who obviously was not a cabbie nor the cabbie killer, but some kid whose mouth got too big when he drank too much.
She opened the back door and stood back to let Don get out, which he did with an irritated expression. "Oh, he's nasty! His breath smells! Makes prom night in the back of my father's Caddy with Bianca DeFazio seem like it never happened."
Jess sniggered as she followed him into the street to retrieve their suspect. "Back of your father's Caddy?"
Don opened the door. "Come on, Roland; time to make the donuts." He shrugged at her. "It was either that or my Pontiac Sunburst. Come on, pal."
At this point, Roland decided to make his annoyance at being arrested known; somehow getting his cuffed hands over his head, he pushed Don back into the road. Jess ducked as he swung at her and kicked him back into the car, winding him enough for Don to wrestle him back under control.
Headlight lit the street and Jess shielded her eyes to a cab driving erratically towards them and showing no signs of slowing down. "Flack!" She ran forwards, pushing her partner towards the trunk of their car; Roland ducked back inside as both detectives hit the metal before landing heavily on the street.
The cab roared past them, the back door opened and a body fell out, skidding a little on the street.
Don jumped to his feet and sprinted after the cab, as Jess stood as well, having to use the car for leverage. Note to self: next time you push your partner out the way of an out-of-control cab, make sure that he doesn't land on you. Ignoring the pain in her side, she approached the body, pressing two fingers against his neck. Feeling nothing, she glanced up at her colleagues, who had come flooding out of the precinct at the commotion. "He's dead." She straightened up, flinching slightly as she grabbed his wallet from where it had landed a few feet away. Flipping it open, she groaned at the familiar badge.
"I lost him." Don announced, stalking back.
"Don?" Jess held out the wallet. "Jersey City PD." She could see the renewed anger in her partner's eyes. "Think it was him? The Cabbie Killer?"
"Well if it was, he just upped his game." Don stated. "Son of a bitch killed a cop." He looked at Jess. "You okay?"
"Fine." Jess lied. "Let's just catch this guy before any more bodies show up." Her eyes fell again on the body on the ground, feeling sick again, but in a very different way, as she glanced back at the wallet in her hands, noticing the name this time: Officer James Chameides. She didn't notice the CSIs turning up. She didn't notice Mac concluding that they had another Cabbie Killer victim. She vaguely Don leaving her side to show Danny the path the cab had taken, but only because the sudden loss of warmth at her right.
She did, however, notice Detective Quinn Shelby approach them and stoop to talk to Mac.
Quinn had been one of the CSIs Jess had come into contact with back in Jersey and reminded her of Stella in quiet a lot of ways; driven, smart and fiercely protective of the people she cared about.
Her attention was caught by her name and she shook herself from her thoughts to see Mac gesturing towards her.
"Detectives Angell and Flack were nearly run down by the cab as it dumped the victim."
Quinn straightened up and looked at her curiously. "Angell. That sounds familiar."
"I was a uniform at Jersey City PD." Jess reminded her.
Quinn's face cleared. "Of course you were. Browning was bouncing off the walls after you left; something about finally getting one over on your father. I figured that the three monkeys applied here."
"Three monkeys?" Mac repeated.
"See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil." Quinn elaborated, before turning back to Jess. "So you're a detective now?"
"And a damn good one at that." Don added, before Jess could respond. "Don Flack. We were never introduced earlier."
Quinn shook his offered hand. "Quinn Shelby. Did either of you see the driver?"
"I was too busy chasing the car." Don admitted. "Jess, you saw it before I did."
"The headlights blinded most of my view." Jess sighed. "I got that it was a cab and that it wasn't gonna stop. After that, I was more concerned with getting us both out of the way." She smiled thinly. "I'm gonna go make sure Roland got through booking without causing any more trouble."
"Angell, I seem to remember you working with Jimmy occasionally." Quinn stated quietly.
"I did." Jess took a deep breath. "I'll be fine. Excuse me." She headed back into the precinct and straight through to booking. "He give you any trouble, Wilson?"
"No, detective."
"Good." Jess sighed wearily. "Let him sober up and I'll give him a lesson on keeping his mouth shut tomorrow."
"Is it true the Cabbie Killer's struck again?"
Jess paused in the doorway and eyed the uniform; Isobel Wilson had transferred over to the 12th precinct after a somewhat rocky start at 34th. Jess was glad; Wilson was a sharp-minded officer with good observational skills and even better instincts.
In fact, she reminded Jess a little of herself.
She looked a little nervous today though, understandable, since she was dealing with her first serial killer. "We don't know at the moment; we'll have to wait for the autopsy report. We'll get him; don't worry about it."
"I'm not worried." Wilson insisted quickly. "I'm just …"
Jess smiled kindly at her. "Isobel, it's okay to be worried. We all are; it's normal when there's a serial on the loose. Just take it one day at a time and stock up on coffee and energy bars."
Wilson smiled shyly. "Thanks, Detective."
"Don't mention it." Jess headed back into the precinct, making a beeline for the locker rooms. Once there, she made her way to the dim light of the very back, near the showers and sat down on one of the benches there, resting her head against the cool metal of the lockers, her mind racing.
"Damn, Angell; what'd you do this time? Seems you're always gettin' the crap jobs!"
"I do not 'always' get the crap jobs, Jimmy; you're imagining things."
"Nah, there's somethin' goin' on, Angell; believe me."
She could almost see him in front of her, several years older than her in age, but about a decade younger than her in maturity. That had been the only serious conversation she could ever remember having with him and what had prompted her to talk to the captain. Of all the people she had worked with back in Jersey City, he had been the only one she'd given a second thought to when she transferred, mainly to wonder if he'd ever grown up, but sometimes to wonder if he really had been serious that day and if he knew it was indirectly because of him that she had been promoted.
Now she'd never know.
"Have you touched it at all?" Jess asked, knowing that she was repeating herself, but needing to make sure.
"No, Detective." The uniform answered, with a hint of a sigh.
Jess smiled apologetically. "Just making sure. "You see anyone round here?"
"No, ma'am. We saw the car, realised it was a cab, roped the scene off and called you."
Jess nodded. "Thank you." She glanced around, seeing Don's car pull up, and stifled a yawn.
Everyone had worked through the night to find an explanation. Their day had gotten even worse with Sid's finding that Jimmy was the victim of a copy-cat, not the Cabbie Killer himself. Even stranger was the beating he had endured first.
"Patrol found the cab twenty minutes ago." She told Don and Danny as they ducked under the tape.
"Nice." Danny commented, tossing his flashlight to Don as requested. "Couple more hours, somebody would've been living in it."
Don ducked under the cab. "Oil pan's cracked. Yep, that's the cab I chased last night."
"Alright, I'll have it towed back to the lab." Danny pulled his phone out.
"Gloves?" Jess prompted. She caught them and used them to open the driver's door, scanning the dashboard for any clue to the identity of the driver.
"Flack?" Danny called. "'Five Brothers Cab Company'."
"What?" Don asked, disbelief evident in his voice. "We seized every document in that garage; there was not a cab unaccounted for."
Jess finally found what she was looking for on the floor and picked it up. She read it through five times to make sure she wasn't seeing things in her heightened sense of exhaustion and climbed out of the cab. "Guys? This case just got a lot stranger. Our Jersey cop was moonlighting as a cab-driver."
Don frowned. "So Jimmy Chameides was dumped out of his own cab?"
"Seems that way." Jess agreed. "What the hell's going on?"
Don sighed. "I wish I knew, Jess."
"To a case successfully solved." Stella stated.
"And to getting a psychopath off the streets." Lindsay added.
"And to a full night's sleep tonight." Jess finished.
"I'll drink to that!" The other two chorused, clinking their glasses to hers as the three women erupted into giggles.
Jess could see their male colleagues round the pool table eyeing them nervously. "I think we're starting to scare them."
"That's because they never know what we're talking about when we start giggling." Stella told her confidently, throwing a glance over her shoulder. "Any idea who's winning?"
"Danny." Jess answered confidently, the only one with a full view of the table. "Actually, it's not so much Danny winning, more Don losing. Badly."
Lindsay sniggered. "Give Danny five more minutes of victory and then I'll play him."
"You?" Jess asked.
"Hey, someone's gotta kick his butt." Lindsay pointed out. "Or his head won't get through the door to the lab tomorrow."
Stella laughed, checking her watch. "I'm gonna call Mac; make sure he and Reed got home safely."
Jess and Lindsay exchanged a knowing look as she moved away, searching for somewhere quieter.
"So you and Danny are okay?" Jess asked.
Lindsay nodded. "Yeah. After Dugan Scott's murder I went round to his apartment and we talked it out … he told me that he loves me and he's sorry for hurting me."
"Don't get yourself hurt again, Linds." Jess warned. "I don't doubt that he loves you, but …"
"Don't worry." Lindsay assured her. "I'm not gonna let it happen again."
"Good." Jess flinched as she shifted in her seat, a hand flying to her side. "Damn."
"You okay?" Lindsay asked immediately.
"Fine." Jess lied again. "I think I'm gonna head out; I haven't slept for over two days." She dropped a couple of bills on the counter just as Don joined them, handing his cue to Lindsay.
"Knock yourself out, Monroe. He's getting too big-headed."
With a smirk, Lindsay finished her drink and stood up, causing Hawkes and Adam to applaud, and Danny to groan, "Flack! Come on, man; play fair!"
"Sorry, Messer." Don added his own money to Jess's. "I'm beat. Need a ride, Detective?"
"Sure." Jess raised a hand in a vague wave towards the CSIs. "See you tomorrow, guys."
Under a veil of goodbyes, Jess and Don slipped out into the quiet street to where the car was waiting for them.
Jess was painfully aware of his gaze flickering towards her every couple of seconds and, finally, when they were in the car and on their way to her apartment, she asked, "You okay?"
"Yeah." Don took his eyes off the road again. "I should be asking you that."
"I'm fine." Jess found herself lying for the third time since it had happened.
Don chuckled. "Jess, you're a fantastic detective, but a terrible liar. You've flinched every time you've moved suddenly since the other night. Are you sure you're okay?"
Jess sighed. "Okay, it's a little sore. Understandable, given the circumstances. But I'm fine."
"Can I offer you a room for the night?" Don asked.
Jess turned to him, a smirk playing on her face. "Really, Flack; you only just broke things off with Devon; have some decency."
"Not that." Don grinned, a faint blush tingeing his cheeks. "I just … I'd feel better if I could make sure you're okay."
While he had no qualms in telling her he cared about her, moments like this were still few and far between, though everyone stuck out in Jess's memory. "I don't mind where I sleep tonight, Don, as long as I do sleep."
"My place it is then." Don concluded. "How well did you know Officer Chameides?"
Jess sighed, reciting the thoughts that had run through her head earlier about his observations and what they'd led to. By the time they'd finished, the car was no longer moving.
Don reached across and squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry."
Jess didn't respond, knowing there was no need for her to, getting out of the car and following him up to his apartment.
"You want something to eat?" Don asked, hanging her jacket up next to his.
"No thanks." Jess stifled yet another yawn. "I just want to sleep."
Don laughed. "I know that feeling. Hang on." He disappeared into another room for a second, before reappearing with a shirt in hand. "Best I can do I'm afraid."
"That's fine." Jess accepted it with a smile. "Bathroom?"
It was odd, she mused as she followed his directions and found herself in a bathroom that was cleaner than she'd expected, given the number of times he had been to her apartment, even spent the night, that this was the first time she'd been to his. She changed quickly, trying not to notice the bruises spreading down her side. As she left the bathroom, her clothes folded in a neat bundle in her arms, a thought occurred to her. "You do have a spare room, right?"
"Actually, no." Don admitted. "I was gonna offer you mine and sleep on the couch."
"Is your couch any more comfortable than mine?" Jess asked.
Don rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Not really. That's why I'm not asking you to sleep on the couch."
"I'm not kicking you out of your bed." Jess protested.
"Alright, Detective." Don stated with a smirk. "Put it this way. You're not sleeping on this couch; you did more damage today than you're willing to admit." He ushered her through into the bedroom, a hand on her lower back. Unlike the last time she'd been in this position, the movement seemed subconscious and more comforting than it was controlling. "Now I can sleep in here with you or on the couch – I'll leave that up to you. But you," he switched the light on, "are sleeping here."
Jess turned to him, momentarily grieving the loss of contact. "Okay. Stay here." She couldn't help smirking at the dumbfounded expression on his face. "What's the difference between us both sleeping here and us both sleeping on my couch?"
"The latter's unplanned." Don answered. "But you've got a point. I'm just gonna change."
Jess climbed into bed, noticing as she did that the sheets smelled like him. Almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, sleep began to creep over her, stealing away consciousness like a thief in the night.
The next time she opened her eyes, it was dark and obviously the middle of the night. Had she been at home, Jess would have let herself drift off again.
But tonight she held off for a few seconds, taking stock of where she was.
Her head was no longer on a pillow, but resting on Don's chest, her left hand entangled with his.
Just as she was wondering how she could move without waking him – though she was loathed to do so, she knew that she should – his other arm tightened around her, unconsciously pulling her closer.
You've slept like this before. A small voice in her head reminded her. He doesn't have to know you woke up.
For once, she listened and let herself relax again, sinking back into his embrace, letting sleep claim her once again.
AN: Yes, I left Jess's date nameless for a reason. And those of you who wanted me to get rid of Devon, you can thank me now. Review please!
