Title: Fools Rush In
Summary: He wants her back and the only way is to surrender. FL.
Disclaimer: The names of all characters contained herein are the property of Anthony Zuiker, Jerry Bruckheimer Television, CBS and Alliance Atlantis. No infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission.
A/N: Fic is titled for song of same name sung by Elvis Presley, Frank Sinatra, et.al.
Rating: T


Fools Rush In

"Wise men say, only fools rush in, but I can't help falling in love with you."
-Frank Sinatra

Flack has been standing in the rain outside Lindsay's apartment for close to a half hour and he doesn't know why. Rather, he knows why he's there but he doesn't know why he's still standing there and not at the door, not with Lindsay, attempting to work things out. Hell, he's a homicide detective, he should have the courage to go up those steps, knock, and tell her straight out he wants her back. To tell her that he lo… It almost slips out, that L-word, and Flack knows that he almost faltered.

Closing his eyes and lifting his head to the grey sky he remembers. He remembers when he first let Lindsay know he was interested, when he offered her all of him. As Flack remembers it was one of the finest moments in his life, telling Lindsay that he cares.

It had been a tough case, and Lindsay's first with a murdered child. The mother had taken an axe to the six-year-old and it was hard on all of them but especially Lindsay. Flack found her in the trace lab, peering into a microscope. It was almost midnight and she shouldn't be here. Not now, not this late.

"How you adjusting to New York, Monroe?" he asks.

He knows she's crying so he talks about anything but the case.

"I'm perfectly well-adjusted, Flack. Thanks." So, she has an attitude. That's fine.

"If you were perfectly well-adjusted," he says, resting a hand on her shoulder, "you wouldn't be crying into a microscope."

She pulls away and shoves his hand off her shoulder. It hurts him, this shoving away, but he hopes it doesn't show.

"I don't need your pity."

Flack stands closer to her as he says, "I'm not offering pity, Monroe. I'm offering me."

He sits down on a bench and pulls his coat closer around him, letting the rain droplets soak into him. His hair is wet, his face covered in rivulets. Flack's pretty sure his coat has gained a few pounds in waterweight. He wishes he wasn't such a coward. He can shoot a man but he can't ask Lindsay to take him back. There's no one out on the streets, not even with umbrellas and he's sort of proud that he's the only one braving the rain today. That gives him a little bit of nerve and he gets up, takes a few steps and then goes back to the bench and sits.

If Flack could name one of the best days in his and Lindsay's relationship, it would have to be the day he asked her to move in with him. It was a bright day, a hot day; one of the warmest in the summer before. It's fall now, winter in a month or so. He remembers and somehow that gives him the nerve to get up again.

Lindsay laughs as Flack sticks his head in the freezer of her refrigerator to cool off, and laughs transmute into slight moans when he pulls her into a kiss.

After they part, he says, "How 'bout you move in with me, Lindsay?"

Her eyes light up and he can tell she's been waiting for him to ask.

"Really, Don? You mean it?"

"Yeah, yeah. I will have to let all my other girlfriends know, postpone a little freaky-deaky…"

She swats his arm, grinning, and says, "There you go, thinking you're all that. But you aren't as charming as you think you are, Detective."

Flack grins smugly and leans toward her conspiratorily, saying, "Yes, I am."

Suddenly he's standing in front of her door and Flack doesn't remember walking there but he realizes that he can't turn away now. Some part of him wants to, maybe it would be easier on both of them if he just didn't knock on Lindsay's door and let the relationship fall into memory. But Flack knows that he can't do that. He has to give this all he's got, because he wants Lindsay, can't live without her. His life hasn't been right without her in it. The other day he found himself searching through his apartment for something he thought was missing and when he realized what it was he sat dumbfounded in his kitchen chair for nearly two hours. Lindsay, his Lindsay.

He remembers when Lindsay and he had a fight, their first fight. It was over something stupid and he thinks that's when everything started to go wrong, the time when Lindsay gave him a test and he failed miserably, the time when he first realized that it hurt when he couldn't please her.

She was twirling her hair around her fingers, contemplating him as he made dinner. Dinner was fetaccini alfredo and breadsticks that he'd made himself. It was the first time he'd cooked dinner for her.

"Don," she says, "what do you see when you look in my eyes?"

He stops stirring the pasta and turns to look at her. There's something hidden there, insider her hazel eyes, and he knows this isn't just a question. Not a regular one at least. He answers carefully.

"I feel, Lindsay, when I look in your eyes. It feels like warmth when I'm cold and a cool breeze when I think I'll burn Reckon that's what I see in your eyes."

Flack sees disappointment in her eyes, the ones he just described feeling, and it hurts. It hurts beyond anything he's ever felt before, and a small part of him hates her for it.

She turns away to go into the living room, and he calls after her, "I failed a test, didn't I? Lindsay, don't walk away from me! Did I fail a test! Gimme another one, if that's what you want, I'll take ya tests!"

He raises his hand and knocks. Lindsay opens the door and they stand there, looking at each other for a few moments. She doesn't invite him in out of the rain and Flack thinks (knows for certain, if he's honest with himself) that he deserves it.

"What is it, Flack?"

It stings, the use of his last name, and he won't take it. Not from her.

"No, no, no. We're beyond that. You call me Don, or you call me nothin', but I won't take you calling me Flack."

She considers that and nods, and apparently she's decided to call him nothing because she just waits for him to speak.

"I want you back, Lindsay."

"That's not good enough," she says, moving to close the door.

He holds it open with his arm, and Lindsay peers closely at him. He moves to say something, but just then his cellphone rings and he doesn't answer.

"You should go," Lindsay says, "it's probably important."

"What I'm doing now is important."

She's tensing now, closing herself off and that makes him uneasy. He shifts, sure now that she won't move to close the door. Lindsay crosses her arms over her chest and looks away from him, and he knows he has to tell her soon or he'll probably lose her forever.

"Please unclench. When you do, I clench, and then it's this whole thing…"

Flack pauses and rubs the back of his neck uneasily. He's not sure how to say this next part, but when Lindsay does unclench, easing up by uncrossing her arms and looking at him in a softer way, it sort of makes it easier.

"Please, I just… I love you, and I need you. Let me back in. You can save me, Lindsay, I don't care how you do, but I know you're the only one that can. Everything in my life was all wrong without you, I need you for things to be right again."

The pleading note in his voice surprises him and he says "Please" again, because that's what this really is all about. He's begging her now, because he does need her. That's all it comes down to and he hopes that this has worked, that he isn't too late.

And when Lindsay tells him that he looks like a drowned rat and pulls him inside, he knows that everything will be alright. She dries him off herself with a blue towel and after a few moments Flack pulls Lindsay against him and kisses her fiercely.

"Lindsay," he whispers. "My love, my own."

And when Flack remembers this day he'll remember it was one of the best in his life, when he risked everything and gained it all. It's hard, wanting everything and nothing at the same time. He wants her and he wants what's his, and he's never been so glad that he gave in.

Finis.