A/n: This is set during 'DOA for a Day' because I just needed something to write about while the writers suck and don't put Jess in episodes.
So, let it begin!
Disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah…
Across the Line
"You've got to be joking." A feminine voice broke the silence as an article of clothing was placed in a white, paper bag.
Currently, Detective Jessica Angell was not a happy person. Turning to the right, she looked at Don and Mac. The latter was biting his lower lip to keep from laughing, but the former kept his no bull marine façade in contact.
"Excuse me, Detective Angell?" The broad, middle-aged detective questioned. The four of them, plus two others who specialized in undercover ops, occupied the room.
"Is it possible that I could wear jeans and a t-shirt?"
"I'm sorry, but no. Suspect X specifically requested that her client wears a blue dress."
She was about to ask if the hem line was specifically requested also, but decided against it. She wasn't going to jeopardize this opportunity because some asshole was a pervert. As much as it pissed her off, she nodded and kept her mouth shut. Shortly afterwards, the bag was passed to her and another to Flack.
"Please try these on," The man spoke again, "and notify us if we got the sizes wrong."
The two of them left and headed towards the locker room. Upon arriving, they discovered that, despite the busy hour of the day, it was empty, and both went to their respective lockers.
-8-
Jess had finished changing and had pulled on the last strappy heel when she turned to look at her reflection in one of the mirrors over a sink. The dress rose higher than she originally believed and only made it halfway up her thigh. With the heels on, it managed to look even shorter. She was going to make sure the person who picked out this dress/scrap of fabric wasn't going to be eating solid foods any time soon. She moved her gaze upwards to see how much cleavage was shown. Strike that, Jess was going to make sure they would never eat solid food again.
"Damn, Angell."
She spun to see who had come in without notice but caught the heel on the edge of the rubber mat that covered the aisle between locker rows, and she landed on her knee. Angell looked at her knee to discover a large scrape that already had begun bleeding, and then looked up.
"Dammit, Messer. You're lucky I don't slap you."
The blond offered her a hand just as Don came around the lockers wearing a white t-shirt and the park maintenance uniform pants.
"What happened?"
"A fallen angel."
"You're pushing it." She retorted after he helped her stand up.
Flack had come to stand next to the CSI who joked, "Ya still look hot, though."
To which, both responded with an icy glare.
"Right, I forgot that I'm not supposed to flirt with my best friend's future girlfriend."
Said best friend put a hand on his shoulder. "Danno, leave."
Danny began to do as was told but turned around and started making and insanely inappropriate gesture. Angell took one of her shoes and threw it, hitting him square in the chest with a thwack.
"Man, she throws harder than you."
The glares came back, and he raised his hands in surrender. "Aight, aight, I'm leaving."
Don looked at her knee and saw that the blood had already trickled to her ankle. "Sit. I'll help clean it."
"There's a first aid kit on the top shelf of my locker." She said as she followed the instruction.
He located the object, sat down beside her, and stretched the injured leg across his lap. Then he began to douse a cotton ball with hydrogen peroxide. The though occurred to him that, if anyone were to walk in, he'd be up to his ears in shit.
"Sorry about Danny." He paused as he watched her flinch from the disinfectant. "He has a condition where he has to make a sexual comment or gesture every ten minutes or else he'll implode."
Jess smiled. "Somehow, I don't doubt that."
He grinned at her, and then resumed his previous action. After a few seconds, she nudged his farthest leg with her foot, and he looked up at her.
"So?"
"What?"
"What d'you think of the dress?"
Don smiled shyly and felt the blood rush to his face. He looked down and began to apply the Neosporin to her knee.
"That good? Huh?"
"You're full of it, Angell."
"Yes. Yes I am, but admit it, you think I look cute."
"The word 'cute' doesn't exactly do you, or the dress, justice."
"I think that was a line."
His only response was a roll of the eyes. When Don had finished putting the Neosporin on, he took a band aid from the kit and carefully stuck it over the scrape. Jess nudged his leg again.
"Yes?"
"You still haven't told me what you think of it."
"I like it." He said simply, "But I've gotta say that I prefer the Kevlar and a shotgun over a short dress and heels any day."
"But you haven't even seen the wig yet." Sarcasm gripped her voice.
His eyebrows shot up. "Wig?"
She closed her eyes and nodded slowly. "Blond."
Don inclined his head towards her. "Personally, I've always been more attracted to brunettes, myself."
Angell scoffed and raised a slender eyebrow. "Is there ever a time when you're not flirting?"
"When I'm not with you." He flashed a smile that made her glad she was sitting down.
"Wow!" She exclaimed exasperatedly, "I can't believe you just said that."
"Eh, you like flirting with me."
"Now who's full of it?"
"Angell?" Another female voice broke into their conversation. "Flack? Mac's looking for- oh, wow, sorry-" Stella spluttered when she could only guess what she walked in on.
"Cool it, Stell; he was just helping clean a scrape." While saying this, Jess slid her bandaged leg from his lap.
Don, whose face had reached a new shade of red, stood and went back to his locker, and the CSI took the formerly occupied seat. The room was silent as the two returned to their street clothes, and when his receding footsteps went out of earshot, another conversation picked up.
Stella held a grin on her rosy lips. "Last time I checked, you only need one person to clean something as superficial as a scrape."
The fact was, this statement had occurred to Jess, but she hadn't decided to voice it. Because, really, what girl would?
"And last time I checked, Mac could do his own man hunts. Besides, it's not like anything happened."
Other than a pink tint adorning her olive skin, the CSI disregarded the first statement and addressed the second, "Five more minutes and I would've walked in on a completely different situation."
Angell rolled her eyes, but considered the words. What would've happened had Stella not walked in? What would've happened if she's given in to the blue-eyed fortress of Sinatra-like charm and seduction? Why was the damned line so blurred that she had no idea when it had been crossed? There were too many unanswered questions. Many of which were crucial to what the next step would be. She let out an irritated sigh.
"Frustrated?" Stella put an arm around the younger detective's shoulders when she nodded. "You wanna talk about it?"
Jess considered saying no and leaving, but she knew that she'd just get cornered later. She leaned into the one-armed embrace a little. "I don't know where the friendship ends and the romance begins. A few months ago he was just 'that guy with the desk that was obsessively clean.' Now, I don't know. Now he's the guy suspects think my boyfriend is. He's the guy who asks me to Irish coffee and confides about Danny to. Now he's that guy. That guy who's constantly invading my thoughts."
Stella smiled. She knew the situation. Actually, she was the situation. Before Claire's death, she'd only known Mac as a friend's husband and a former marine with little to no tolerance for screw ups. But then, a year after the national tragedy, they worked a four nineteen together. Since then, they'd been best friends. She knew Jess probably had an idea what –or rather, who– she was thinking of.
"Guys're confusing." Angell conceded.
"Amen."
A/n: I hate the last two lines so much, but I hated everything else I tried so much more.
Raise your hand if you want Sam in another episode. I like her character; it's really cool to actually learn something about Flack's family.
Gah! I finally gave into Stella/Mac! I held in there pretty long, though. Since I started watching the show, actually. That was…a little over a year ago. Addressing what I said about Flack's desk, it's so true! It's so freakishly clean! And my best friend and I came up with 'blue-eyed fortress of Sinatra-like charm and seduction' while watching 'Commuted Sentences.'
Hope you enjoyed!