Disclaimer: I do not own CSI: NY or any of the characters used. They belong to CBS.

A/N:

-This isa gift to one of my dear friends. Her favorite character is Dect. Flack. So thought I would give her a valentine's day gift of a story staring Flack. I hope you like it, Katie-Pie!

-I love to hear what you think. But no flames, I will use them to roast my lunch, j/k:)

-Every thing in italics are flashbacks.-

When the final leaf falls…

Looking out the small window, I could see the yellows, golds, oranges, and greens of the leaves swirling in the soft breeze. They must have come from the few small trees planted outside the church building. Trees or any kind of plant life, in New York was extraordinary. Although this was a major port city, concrete covered the long-forgotten dirt and greenery, and created tall, skyscraping buildings. Five years ago, this city was a target for one of the most unimaginable and unforgettable events in history.

I shook my head, trying to rid myself of these morbid thoughts. Today was supposed to be a happy day; but I was always a bit trepid about coming to New York, after 911. Although it was my dream since I was a little girl, growing up in what is now an almost nonexistent way of life, I still can not help but feel what I felt those years ago. The fear and uncertainty came flooding back to me.

I willed myself not to cry, because if I did, Gladys would sock me one for sure. With all those pain-staking hours that she had put in to make sure that my make-up was perfect, she would be very angry with me if I smeared up her work. The motherly and slightly plump figure always had a special place in my heart. Since the first day I met her, I knew I would always look up to her and life would never be the same. Given that, she was one of the first people to welcome me into this new and strange city.

Shaking my dirty blonde locks of the excess rain that fell from the overcast sky, I silently chastised myself for not bringing my umbrella. I even watched the news reports on TV this morning, while sipping my coffee and getting mentally prepared for my job interview in a few hours time.

When I was satisfied that I got as much water from my hair as I could, I looked up and I found myself in a small diner. The interior décor was similar to that of the Rockin' 50's McDonalds in my hometown. Although it didn't have as much Elvis memorabilia as the fast food restaurant, it did make me feel a bit homesick.

Looking around, I found it wasn't as busy as I thought a diner in New York would be. I walked up to where a slightly overweight, middle-aged, brown-haired waitress was wiping off the counter. Studying her features, I realized she reminded me of my mother. With her hair pulled back in a bun and hairnet, she had that loving and motherly look on her face. Glancing up at me, she smiled showing me she had many laughing lines. Seeing them made me realize she had a happy and jolly life, to have those wrinkles around her eyes and mouth.

Realizing I was staring, I shifting my gaze and smiled back at her with what I hope was a joyful smile. Finally nearing my destination, I placed myself on the small, round stool in front of the counter. She smiled again while placing the dirty rag underneath the counter, most likely on a hidden shelf. This time when she smiled, I saw that she had a small gap between her two front teeth. It made her all the more endearing to me.

When she finally spoke to me, I noticed she had a faint, almost undetectable Spanish accent. It coincided beautifully to the darker tone of her skin and her brown hair. Before she had taken my order, she asked me if I was new here. I said yes. And being one of the first, she had welcomed me to New York.

Since that day, I learned her name was Gladys and she had moved here for almost ten years before I arrived in New York. I always made a point to stop in and have a chat with her. Whenever she had her breaks, we would talk about trivial things, such as the weather, and then it would deluge into our pasts and sometimes our futures, or rather my future.

Coming out of my reverie, I looked up saw Gladys coming in through the door behind me through the mirror. She looked lovely with her flowing yellow silk dress and her traditional golden hoops. She smiled at me and started fussing over my dress, hair, and makeup. Thankfully, throughout all my daydreaming, I successfully did not cry.

My best friend, Lindsay Monroe—or rather Messer—was awkwardly walking into the room. She looked exceptionally radiant today; perhaps it was the fact that she was eight months pregnant or maybe it was because of what was going to take place in half an hour.

Since she had already been through this a year ago, she had kept on reassuring me that nothing will go wrong, that this will be one of the best days of my life. I had confided to my friends that I was scared to go through with the wedding.

It wasn't that I was unsure about my fiancé, but it was the fact that I felt like I could not be what he needed or wanted. I was afraid of disappointing him. Gladys and Lindsay told me that I should not have to feel that way, that he was lucky to have me. But I could not fully agree with them, even though they both have already gone through what I was about to under take.

Gladys had told me about this club that played jazz music on Wednesday afternoons. I had been persuaded to join her, since she was extremely persistent. By persistent, I mean that she had refused to take my daily coffee order and she had continually teased me about it. It hadn't fazed me that much at first, but a girl can only go so long with out her daily cup of coffee. So, I reluctantly agreed.

I had arrived at the club with ten minutes to spare. Since Gladys said that it wasn't formal, I just dressed in some comfortable jeans and a thin long sleeve shirt. No one could see my shirt, because of the fact that I was wearing my coat and scarf on account of the cooler weather.

I selected a table to the side of the room, somewhat in the front. I quickly glanced at my watch, Gladys was late! She had promised me that she would be on time. I sighed, thinking that she was probably stuck in traffic. So I just settled for taking off my coat and scarf and leaning back in the chair waiting for the performance to start.

There were several people up on stage tuning their instruments and organizing their notes. One man in particular caught my eye. He was casually dressed, but there was an air of authority around him. It made me think back of my old science teacher, he had that air about him because he had been in the army. I wondered if this man could have possibly been in the army or some branch off of it.

I noticed that he was playing a bass guitar throughout the performance. When they had finished their first song, I had decided that Gladys was not coming. I was tempted to just leave now, but something urged me to stay and talk with the mysterious man. So I stayed and listened to the rest of their songs.

When they had finished, I saw the dark-haired mysterious man gathering up his stuff and heading toward the door. I followed him. I introduced myself and then he introduced himself.

It turns out his name was Mac Taylor and he was a detective with the crime lab. He said he was going out to get a cup of coffee, and I said I knew of a great place where we could go.

When we arrived at the diner, I didn't see Gladys. That caused me to be worried. I asked the waitress where she was, and she said that Gladys had gone home early because she wasn't feeling well. I hoped that it wasn't something really serious.

It turns out Mac wasn't that big of a talker, but once he got comfortable you couldn't get him to stop talking. He was telling me all about his wife and his responsibilities as the head of the crime lab. He feels like sometimes it was just overwhelming, and with all those gruesome cases you barely have time to sleep.

Then he told me about his co-workers. He obviously cared about them, from the way he talked and all the kind acts he had done for them over the years. Such as the incident with a guy named Danny Messer, when he accidentally shot an undercover police officer. Plus the time that he helped out another detective when he found out his mentor and partner for four years had been tampering with evidence.

Every week, since then, I went to the club to hear him play. He once said that was one outlet for him when he was really wound up, it helped him to relax. After every performance, we would hang out together; sometimes to get a coffee or to take a walk. He was a wonderful listener and I found myself telling him things that I haven't told Gladys or anyone else. Whenever I told him of a fear of mine or anything embarrassing, he never laughed as I thought someone would, he just...understood. And I was extremely grateful for that.

Suddenly the door opened and Stella, the other bridesmaid, rushed in looking flustered. She apologized that she was so late on account of the traffic. Thankfully we had some time to fix her flyaway hair and we quickly put her hair back into a bun. When we were done, she commented on my dress. She said she really liked the fact that it had flowers in the headdress that the veil was attached to. I'm glad she liked it; she was the only one who hadn't seen it. Gladys and Lindsay were with me when I got it, but Stella was busy working on a case.

When the time came, I had butterflies in my stomach. I was extremely nervous. Gladys, Stella, and Lindsay had already lined up ahead of me, because they were walking out first. I had a little time to prepare myself.

Mac was waiting for me. It was tradition that the father walks the bride down the isle, but my father had died three years ago so I asked Mac if he would walk me down the isle instead. He complimented me on my dress, and told me that I should pull my veil down. Since it was some sort of tradition that I never heard of, but I complied anyway.

As we started to walk down the isle, I kept my eyes in front of me. When our eyes locked, all my fears left me and I don't even know why I had felt those fears and worries. It all seems so silly now, and those baby-blue eyes were silently reassuring me. I can still remember the day that I first saw those eyes, nothing else was the same again.

It had been several months since the day that I first saw Mac perform, and today wasn't any different. The music was exceptionally good, most likely that there was a new performer in place of the regular saxophonist.

I was at my regular table, the one that I first sat down in on that first day, enjoying a wonderful cup of coffee. You could say I have a fetish for coffee, since I absolutely love coffee and drink it as much as I think I should a day.

At a couple of tables to the left of mine, I saw a guy with a long coat, messy hair, and glasses sit down next to a girl with short, brown hair. They started talking and I saw her point out Mac, I wondered if they knew him. Later a waitress with a pint of beer came over and served it to the messy haired guy.

Mac had finished the song and was talking about the new saxophonist, I really wasn't paying that much attention. I knew that they had two more songs to go, and I was waiting until they finished the last song so I could ask Mac about the guy and the girl at that table who pointed him out.

Mac told me later on when we were talking a walk through the streets of New York, that they were some of his fellow co-workers. He then suggested that I should meet his co-workers. Because he talked about them so much, it felt like I already knew them. Especially Stella Bonasera. The one person, who could get away with some of the things that he wouldn't normally allow others to get away with.

I secretly think that he fancies her. Even though he won't admit it, not even to himself, and from the way he says that she treats him and all the things she does for him, she likes him back. But I never press him about it, and I certainly won't tell him of my suspicions. He would never forgive me for it.

One day he finally completed his offer, he brought me to his crime lab to meet all his co-workers. The first person I met was Dr. Hawkes. He was extremely nice. He had a witty sense of humor, and I enjoyed meeting with him. He was originally a medical examiner, but he then wanted to go into the investigation field. He said that it was getting a little stuffy in that office and he wanted to get out in the fresh air.

The next people I met was that girl and guy that were at the club, Lindsay Monroe and Danny Messer. I found out that Lindsay was new here; she took over the place of a former CSI that was fired for messing with the evidence and questioning her creditability.

Danny was a native New Yorker obviously from his Staten Island accent, and from the way they kept glancing at each other, I knew they liked each other also.

After that I met the object of Mac's affection, Stella Bonasera. She was gorgeous with her brown curly hair, and her kind smile. Just by looking at her, I knew all those stories about her were one hundred percent true.

While we were talking with Stella, a dark-haired man with blue eyes came up and started to talk with Mac about his latest case break. I couldn't help but stare at him. There was something about him, I just couldn't place. Perhaps it was the fact that he was awfully good looking, but then again Danny and Hawke were also considered good looking. It was really cute when he was talking about something and he would make up these one-liners that fit perfectly into the situation.

When he was done with his little speech, he smiled at me and asked Mac who I was. I was too awestruck, as you could say, to say anything, I just let Mac talk. After a bit I found my voice, and we struck up a good conversation. But he had to leave with Mac and Stella to get back to the crime scene. I was disappointed, but I didn't show it outwardly. But to my internal excitement, he said that he would like to meet me again.

I held in my hands a bouquet of the traditional flowers—baby's breath, roses, lilies—and I also had white carnations in it. White carnations were special to me. That was the first flower I ever got from my fiancé, on our first date.

It was so cute. He had been waiting on the other side of my apartment door, looking very nervous and then he handed me a white carnation. Ever since then, he has given me a white carnation on every date after that. It was our special flower

I felt like I should have it in our wedding, so had the floweriest put white carnations into the bouquet. I also had white carnations in the headdress; I thought it would look really pretty with the dress and the veil.

It seemed like it took ages to reach the alter on the other side of the room. Before I knew it, I was kissed on the cheek by Mac and handed over to my soon-to-be-husband. I could tell he liked the dress and the headdress because of the way his eyes lit up. I was happy that he liked it, I was hoping he would.

The whole ceremony went by pretty fast, and before I knew it we were saying our vows, putting on the rings, and then that first kiss as husband and bride. Even though we have kissed before, nothing extremely serious, this time was different. It was more…expectant. Like we couldn't wait to see what the future had for us. It was kind, loving, and tender, but we've had those kinds before. It was absolutely wonderful, and that usual bolt of electricity was there as well.

Everyone started to clap when we were done, and the priest announced us as Mr. and Mrs. Don Flack. Stella, Lindsay, and Gladys looked teary eyed; I have never seen Stella so emotional, so it was a bit of a shock to me.

As we were talking down the isle to go to the reception, I couldn't stop the huge grin that had spread across my face. I am happy I went through this; I would have regretted it all my life if I didn't.


Three years later

Jack Messer was a little miniature clone of his father. In looks and personality, all he was missing was the glasses.Now three years old, he thought that he knew everything. With him walking and talking, it sure kept his mother on her feet.

He was currently playing in the sand box with Raya, our two year old daughter. She had my husband's blue eyes and my dirty blonde hair. Raya actually is of Spanish origin, Gladys told me about it when she was born and we couldn't think of a proper name. She had grown up handsomely. Her play buddy being Lindsay and Danny's boy, she got her fair share of the rough-and-tumble life.

When I was pregnant with Raya, Lindsay joked with me that if it was a girl that we should set them up to get married when they get older. Just like in the olden times, we never really did it but I was a lasting joke between the two of us. But little did we know, that was exactly what happened in several years time.

I have never forgotten that spectacular wedding to the one and only love of my life. It was a life-changing event, and I know that what Gladys and Lindsay said to me before the ceremony was true. It had brought me of the life that I had dreamed of my entire life. It had brought me happiness, and I am never letting it go.