This is my first CSI:NY fic...I love constructive criticism, so please review! Don will meet someone, but the road to love is not easy for a bachelor with commitment issues...hehehe. Anyways, I have some ideas of where I am taking this but I am always up for suggestions, so don't be shy! Let me know if there is anything you would like to see in this story. Also, I am new to CSI:NY in general so please don't hesitate to tell me if you think my characters are being "OOC"...enjoy!
It was a typical Friday night for Detective Don Flack; his phone buzzed at three in the morning. Without even a conscious thought he reached for it. "Flack," he answered, not even opening his eyes. The voice on the other end gave a quick description of a murder and a street address. "I'm on my way," was all he said, hanging up the phone and sliding out of bed. "Do you have to leave?" a voice sleepily called from the sheet. "Yep, sorry," he replied, ignoring the hand reaching out to him. His latest conquest, a girl he had met at the bar the night before, grumbled as she climbed out of bed and tried to find her clothes. Flack ignored her as he threw on some nice pants. The room was dark, and the only sound was that of the window air conditioner. The bedroom was sparse, a queen sized bed with navy blue sheets that Flack had had as long as he could remember. There was one bedside table on the left side of the bed, where Flack kept his cell phone and his gun while he slept. There were no pictures on the walls, nothing to insinuate that someone actually lived there; the décor said that someone slept there, nothing more. Flack was barely at his apartment anyway; he slept there between shifts and that was it. His job consumed his life. It was all he did, with the exceptions of bringing home a girl every now and then that he met at the bar; it was for no reason other than to fulfill a physical need and get his mind off of whatever horror he had witnessed that day.
The blond he had brought home that particular night was dressed and watching Flack grab his gun out of the drawer and attach it to his holster. "Do I even get a kiss goodbye?" she asked, although she felt she knew the answer already. Flack didn't even respond, he just rolled his eyes.
"Get your shoes on, I have a crime scene I need to get to," he said, not even looking at her as he left the room. She sighed and grabbed her stuff, walking straight through the sparsely furnished living room and walking out the door without even looking at him or saying anything. Flack didn't respond, he just grabbed his keys off the table and headed out the door.
Flack arrived at an alleyway off Times Square near the Gershwin Theater. The scene was crawling with cops and witnesses; it was a hodgepodge of people, flashing lights, and noise. Flack got out of the car and headed towards Mac and Stella. "Beat me here, huh, guys?" he said with a smile. Stella smiled back. "Dead homeless man, definitely looks like foul play, not many homeless people carrying guns," she filled Flack in. "We are just waiting for the scene to be cleared so we can process." Flack surveyed the scene and took notice of all the people hanging around watching. The majority of the people hanging around looked like theater goers who had stuck around to drink in Times Square after the shows ended. "Alright, I'll start questioning witnesses. Let's see if we can start to put together what happened here."
Flack walked around taking statements from witnesses. Most people had heard the commotion and come over to see what was going on when the cops arrived. No one seemed to have heard a shot go off. The 911 call had come in anonymously. So far there wasn't much to go off of. Flack walked up to a group of women who appeared to be in their early to mid twenties. "Did any of you ladies see what happened?"
One of the girls looked up at him with blue-grey eyes. "We didn't see a shooting or anything," she answered. The other girls she was with weren't paying attention, they were trying to get a closer look at what the police were doing. She continued however. "We did see something strange earlier though; we were seeing Wicked here at the theater, and when we were leaving we could hear yelling coming from the alleyway. It was too crowded though with all of the shows ended for the night; we couldn't hear anything else but noise after only a minute." Flack nodded as he took the notes down. "Can I get your name, ma'am, just in case we have any further questions?" He never even looked up from his notepad as he asked her. "Lucy Shirley," she responded, watching him write it down.
He had just finished writing down her name when he heard shots ring out. He instinctually whipped out his gun while grabbing Lucy by the arm and throwing her behind a box in the alley. It was chaos for a few minutes, people were running and screaming. Flack tried to see where the shots were coming from, but with so many people he couldn't see much and he certainly couldn't risk firing his gun. After a minute of feeling completely helpless, the shots stopped and Flack saw several cops take off down the other end of the alley in hot pursuit. "You ok?" he called over his shoulder to Lucy. When he didn't hear anything he turned around. She was half sitting up on the ground, a gunshot wound in her leg. She was conscious but appeared to be in shock. "Oh shit," he said, "I need a medic over here!" he yelled.
XXXXX
Several hours later Flack was in the hospital with Mac. Three people had been shot in the alley. One man had died already, another was in surgery. Lucy was about to come out of her own surgery; Mac was there to pick up the bullet that had just been removed, and Flack was there to get her official statement. Mac could tell that Flack felt slightly guilty that the girl he had been interviewing had gotten shot. Flack probably assumed he had been the target since he was a cop. Mac tried to talk to him but Flack clearly was not in the mood. The doctor came out of Lucy's room and nodded to Mac, letting him know it was ok to go in her room.
Mac went in and took the bullet from the nurse while Flack went over to Lucy's bed. She was groggily coming out of the morphine coma. Flack was unsure of how much she would remember, so he was quite surprised when she looked at him and spoke. "So we meet again," she said, a weak smile on her lips. Flack smiled back. "Do you remember what happened?" he asked, taking out his notepad. "I remember talking to you…and then I heard a noise and felt a stinging in my leg. Then you threw me on the ground, and that's all I remember. Sorry, I'm probably not much help to your case." Flack nodded, writing everything down. "I'm sorry about what happened…whoever was shooting was probably aiming for me," Flack said, not looking up from his notepad. "Eh, it happens," Lucy responded, causing Flack to look up in surprise. "Besides," she continued, "now I finally have some interesting scars."
"How can you be so ok with this?"
Lucy shrugged. "What other choice do I have? I'm sure later on it will hit me, but right now I'm grateful to have my life. That's enough to be happy about."
Still surprised, Flack stood up. "Thanks for your statement, Lucy. If we catch the guy, you may be needed further, but until then, rest up and get better." Lucy nodded as he headed t the door. He was just stepping through the doorframe when he heard her voice call out. "You have a name, detective?"
"Detective Flack," he said, not turning back.