High Energy Protons
by Carolina

As she approached the impending crime scene, Aiden inwardly sneered at the police tape that surrounded the small area and for a second, just a second, silently hoped this was a massacre and not another boring misdemeanor. Karma must've been paying attention at that moment, because as soon as she thought the words her heel got stuck in a small pothole, cracked under the pressure, and she nearly fell onto the ground.

"Dammit, fuck!" she said loudly as she tried to maintain her balance, grateful there was no one around to point and laugh at her temporary clumsiness, or frown at her lack of decorum. She looked down at her shoes, her new shoes, her new, pretty shoes, and sighed helplessly at the heel that was hanging on to the sole by a thread. Frustrated, she walked over and leaned on an unknown car to slip her shoe off and put the heel out of its misery. She ripped it off and threw it in a nearby trashcan, but not before bidding adieu to the ninety dollars she'd spent on her brand new shoes, now heelless forever.

Instead of rushing towards the scene, which seemed to be calling her name now, she decided to stay there for a couple of seconds, just to breathe, cool herself down. And it wasn't gonna work, probably, but she could at least try. No use in snapping at the poor victims or witnesses just because she was having a bad night. And what a bad night it was, because she looked beautiful, dammit, and she should've been sitting in the middle of a romantic restaurant, receiving compliments and feeling good about herself, instead of walking towards yet another crime scene. A tasteless one at that.

This was Danny's fault, really. If he'd listened to Mac, the whole lab wouldn't be backed up with cases. If it weren't for Danny she'd be enjoying her date now, right now, rather than making her way towards an obscure sex shop that was only illuminated by the single light of a police car. They couldn't have committed the crime at the Russian Tea Room or somewhere classy, no. A fucking, disgusting, in-the-middle-of-nowhere, sex shop.

Sighing, she quickly realized there was no use delaying the inevitable, and missing one heel, she began to walk, or rather limp, her way over.

She couldn't hide the anger that had never really subsided as she signed her name on a clipboard and ignored the officer that was nice enough to lend her his pen. Rude, she knew that, but she got the feeling that if she opened her mouth now a bunch of bleeping noises would come out, so she decided to stay quiet as she ducked under the tape and made her way inside.

The shop was poorly decorated with cheesy pornographic paraphernalia and posters of women who had been goddesses in the 60s and 70s but must've turned into mummies by now. She looked around the room, and the lack of personnel told her that yes, this was probably another one of those low-key cases. That, for some reason, made her angry, and the feeling intensified when she saw Flack emerge from the back room, looking casual, care-free.

"What have you got?" she called out to him.

He took a moment to stop and trace with his eyes the curves of her body before smiling. "Hey, you look nice."

Aiden rolled her eyes, rested her hands on her hips and rephrased the question. "What am I doing here, Flack?"

Flack should've been intimidated by her ill-temper, but smiled at it instead, finding it cute. He would never verbalize it, of course. Saying Aiden's anger was cute rather than thinking it was the difference between life and a comatose state. "Armed robbery. Suspect ran away with 2 Gs, cash."

Her mind quickly began to work the case and she forgot about her anger momentarily as she fished for a new pair of gloves. "Anyone got hurt?"

"Nah."

Aiden frowned. "Surveillance?"

"Back room."

She stopped to stare at him. He dropped his head to quickly scan the notes he had scribbled on his pad, either to get more information for her or to avoid her gaze, she couldn't tell. But it was suspicious.

"Did you check the surveillance tape, Flack?"

He finally looked up. "Well, I was waiting for you."

"Why?"

"You're the CSI."

"You're a detective," she replied, her face growing stern.

Flack looked around the room before settling his eyes on her again. "Don't you still have to sprinkle some of that dust around?"

She was about to protest again but suddenly felt a wave of hopelessness wash through her. Protesting, at this point, was just a huge waste of time. Instead, she walked behind the counter, as Flack followed her with his eyes, and neared the cash register. It was closed. "What's the owner saying?"

Flack opened up his tiny pad again. "Uh, white male, 20s, Mets jacket, had a large tattoo on the side of his neck, took off on foot. Couple of officers are surveying the area."

Aiden raised her eyebrows again, but said nothing, remained quiet about the fact that any 13 year old could take this case and solve it in five minutes. They didn't need her here, they certainly didn't need her equipment, and as she placed her kit on the counter she couldn't help but wonder why the hell she had been called onto this case.

Flack walked over and leaned against the counter casually. "So where were you?"

As she looked at him, Aiden briefly wondered what Flack was doing here as well, because hell, no one had gotten hurt, there was nothing here that an amateur cop couldn't work with. Flack was a detective, a damn good one; surely they were wasting him with a case like this. But if the case bothered him he certainly wasn't showing it. That, for some reason, annoyed her even more and she didn't try to hide it with her reply. "None of your business."

"What happened to your shoe?"

Aiden tried to ignore him as she got her fingerprint dust and brush ready. "Why don't you go watch your surveillance tape?"

"You look pissed."

"I'm gonna look even more pissed if you don't stop playing twenty fucking questions," she snapped at him without feeling guilty because Flack probably didn't give a damn and she'd given him enough indications that she wasn't in the mood. Play with fire and you'll get burned. No pun intended.

Sure enough, Flack smiled and was about to add something to that when his cell phone rang. Aiden glanced at him casually as he talked, and for some reason he decided to look at her as he did so. She looked away, because for a brief moment the phone next to his ear didn't exist. The call didn't last long, and after adding a final, "yeah," he snapped his cell phone shut. "They caught him."

Aiden stared at him. She stared at him because she feared if she moved, if she even blinked, she would go completely insane. Her date was ruined. Her shoes were ruined. Her night had been ruined by this fucking case and as it turned out, they hadn't needed her after all. She wanted to scream, hit something, reach for her gun and shoot Flack right where he stood. But they would probably expect her to work that case, too, so instead she stared at him as she gritted her teeth and entertained violent thoughts.

Flack, however, smiled as he checked his watch. "Five minutes? Very impressive. Good job, Aiden."

"I didn't do anything," she snarled.

"Don't worry," he said, leaning on the counter again and flashing her a perfect row of white teeth. "I won't tell."

The violent thoughts intensified in her head and she sighed loudly as she threw her equipment back in her kit, snapped her gloves off and muttered obscenities under her breath as she began to limp out of the store.

Flack followed. "Somehow I get the feeling you don't think that's a good thing."

Aiden stopped walking and turned around. "I was on a date, Flack!" she finally snapped, noticing the couple of faces that turned to look in their direction. She huffed and crossed her arms in front of her as she collected herself, and after a brief moment she looked up at him again. "Why did you call me here?"

"Mac called you," Flack said.

"Why did he?"

"Well, you're gonna have to ask him that."

"Did you tell him to?"

"Did I order Mac Taylor to give you this case? Yes, Aiden, because I have that kind of power. I just wave a pretty little stick in the air and bam, Mac is my bitch," Flack answered, making his sarcastic tone very obvious.

Aiden stared at him reluctantly, and he was either genuinely clueless or naturally stupid, or both - she didn't know, and suddenly she didn't have the energy to care anymore. "Whatever, just... give me a ride home."

Flack watched her, and suddenly she looked exhausted as she tried to put herself back together and began to limp down the sidewalk. It was a pitiful sight. He looked down at her shoes again. One of her heels was gone and as he followed her he wondered if that hurt, because it looked plenty painful to him.

"You might wanna take your shoes off."

She replied with a mumble. "I'm okay."

"Car's two blocks away."

"I'll live."

Sighing, he put his arm in front of her to make her stop, bent down, took her good shoe off and ripped the heel off in one swift movement.

"Flack!"

"There, now they're even," he said, handing her the shoe back.

Aiden took it - there was no other choice and she wasn't about to make another scene - and slipped it back on. He walked ahead of her and she followed him, walking awkwardly. When they reached his car he opened the door for her, and she didn't fail to notice he had never done that before - he knew how much she hated chivalry – but she forgot about it quickly, her desperation to get home and get into bed was much greater.

As they drove towards her apartment neither of them said anything, except for the voice on the police scanner that would come up every other minute. When Flack realized he wasn't on the job anymore he flicked a button on it and the voice went away, and the silence fell heavy around them. Aiden decided to look out the window and pray he wasn't in a chatty mood, because the last thing she wanted at the moment was to recount the miserable details of her night.

Her prayers weren't answered.

"So, who's this guy you were out with?" he asked, his tone casual – too casual, she noted.

"No one."

"Joe no one?"

She smiled, and then chuckled weakly, because really, at this point she got the feeling the night was one big cosmic joke. Not a good joke, granted, but staying mad would get her nowhere. "A really nice guy."

"Yeah?" he asked, mild amusement with a hint of something else in his tone. Sarcasm, maybe; something bitter and plastic. "What's his name?"

"What's the difference?"

"I'm just curious."

Aiden rolled her eyes, debating whether she should tell him or not. Her history with Flack wasn't the most stable – or the healthiest, for that matter – and certainly not conducive to friendly chats. She remembered how not too long ago, when they'd decided a relationship was something neither of them wanted, they'd agreed they would never talk to each other about their love lives. Aiden couldn't really remember why they agreed on that - it seemed to her that's something friends do - except maybe because she and Flack had never been able to be friends, true friends like she was with Danny or Stella. They could certainly joke around and talk about personal things and be there for each other, but for some reason, 'friend' was not the first thing that came to mind when she thought about Flack.

Nothing came to mind when she thought about Flack except one giant question mark.

Their pact, of course, never solidified, as was evident in his current interrogation. However, the idea of telling him, though uncomfortable, gave her some sort of satisfaction, in a good-natured way. Maybe she was being horrible, but that look on his face that only surfaced whenever he was trying to conceal jealousy, or whatever it was he always felt when she talked about other men, always made her smile. For whatever reason she liked to make him suffer.

So by the time she answered him her reluctance had already been discarded. "Lilly."

Flack's face soured. "You went out with a guy named Lilly?"

Aiden smiled as she shook her head. "His last name is Lilly."

"His last name is Lilly?"

"Didn't I just say that?"

Flack fell quiet for a moment, but curiosity began to eat him away pretty much immediately. "Why would you date a guy named Lilly, anyway?"

She sighed, irritated. "His name is not Lilly, Flack, his last name is."

"Right," Flack said sardonically. "Why would you wanna date a guy with a girly last name?"

"Because I like him. And I don't care about his last name," she replied.

"Not now," Flack said. "But what's gonna happen when you name your daughter Lily? Lily Lilly. That's child abuse, Aiden."

She sighed again, feeling like she was talking to a child. She got the feeling he was having a little too much fun with this. "Why would I name my daughter Lily if her father's last name is Lilly?"

Flack glanced at her before his eyes returned to the road. "You said that was your favorite name."

"I never said that," she said defensively. "When did I say that?"

"Two years ago," he answered. "We were watching television and you'd had a little too much to drink, remember? And then this infomercial for the best of Laugh-In came on and you said, 'When I have a daughter I'm gonna name her Lily, cause she's the funniest'."

Aiden looked at him. Her mouth opened to say something, but she had no idea what to say to that. How did hell did he remember that? Hell, she couldn't remember that. Lily? What the hell is Laugh-In, anyway?

The way he smiled at the memory told Aiden he wasn't lying, and she didn't know why, but for some reason the fact that he remembered that made her feel a little uncomfortable. So she tried to veer the conversation in another direction. "We went out on one date and you already have me giving birth to his children."

"I didn't say that."

"Okay," she said. "Are we through?"

He stayed quiet, watching her through his peripheral vision, enjoying the way she rested her forehead on the window and crossed her legs like that seat belonged to no one but her. She looked beautiful tonight, wearing girly earrings and a girly shirt and girly shoes. Her hair was long, dark, and flowing onto her shoulders and her back, and since he saw her at the crime scene he'd been battling the urge to touch it, just for a second, if only to see if it was still as soft as it used to be. Aiden was a lot more beautiful than she cared to admit, and even more beautiful when she let it show, when she truly believed she was beautiful. He couldn't help thinking sometimes there wasn't one guy out there who deserved to look at her so freely. Not even him.

Especially not him.

Slowly, she closed her eyes and for a moment Flack wondered if she'd fallen asleep, but the tiny smile on her face told him she wasn't sleeping. She was probably thinking of someone, of some guy with a girly name, some asshole he wished he could meet on the street if only to let him know how fucking lucky he was. And then take him out for all he was worth. His conscience told him not to go there, reminded him he'd had his chance.

His conscience was very rarely acknowledged.

"That guy's not for you," he said assertively.

She opened her eyes and threw him an amused glance. "No offense, Flack, but--"

"He's a pussy."

She turned to him, half-shocked, and chuckled dryly. "He... is probably the nicest guy I've ever met."

"You don't like nice guys, Aiden."

"Well, maybe I finally got tired of dating assholes," she said.

Flack chuckled, but mirthlessly and nervously and Aiden quickly realized what she'd said, and decided to say something before things got even more uncomfortable. Suddenly she remembered why they had decided never to talk to each other about their love lives – because they couldn't.

"Regardless," she continued. "I don't think you and I have reached that level of comfort where you can get off telling me who I like or don't like."

"Haven't we?"

"And if being a nice guy makes you a pussy then I don't know what to say about a guy who won't go anywhere near the Staten Island monastery because he thinks it's haunted," she finished proudly.

Flack smiled. "That... is different."

"That, my friend, makes you a big pussy," she said.

He decided to let her have the last word, because really, there's no winning when arguing with Aiden and her apartment building was not too far ahead, anyway. He luckily found a space not too far from her door and casually checked his watch. Still too damn early.

Aiden unbuckled her seat belt. "Thanks for the ride, and the interrogation," she said and got out of the car, and threw him an inquisitive look when he did the same. "What are you doing?"

"Walking you to your door," he replied, coming around to meet her.

"Why?"

"Because you're tired of dating assholes," he said matter-of-factly.

Aiden frowned at him, momentarily, but he never caught the look, so she decided to let it pass. He followed her up to the second floor, and it filled her with so many memories for a moment it felt real again, all of it - the random dates, the nights spent at his place, the many mornings they woke up next to each other, naked, drinking coffee, and generally being young.

Too young, as it turned out.

She reached her apartment door first, and the way he stood behind her, a little too close and warm, was distracting. She fished her keys out of her purse and as she began to look for the corresponding two she felt him brush her hair aside and deposit a slow kiss on the base of her neck. Aiden closed her eyes and tried, very hard, not to let it rush to her head.

"Don," she warned him.

"You look beautiful tonight," he said, trailing soft kisses up to her ear.

"Thank you," she said, ignoring his hot breath on her skin, the way it sent shivers down her spine and made her feet cold. She inserted the key in the lock, which proved to be much harder than she had anticipated, and turned to face him. He wasted no time in snaking his arm around her waist and pulling her close.

"Maybe you should go," Aiden said.

He leaned down and barely brushed his lips against the corner of her mouth before he pulled back to kiss her nose. "Why?"

She smiled. "Because it's a really good idea."

"Really?" Flack teased, kissing her cheek. "I think it's the worst idea you've ever had."

"Are you calling me stupid now?"

"No," Flack replied. "I'm stupid. I'm very stupid."

"Yes you are," Aiden said, opening the door and allowing him to follow her inside. She turned the lights on, threw the keys on the little table by the door, placed her kit on the floor and turned around, and he was standing so close she nearly fell backwards.

"Hi," Flack said as he caught her by the waist.

She smiled at him. "Hi."

He smiled back as he leaned down and captured her lips with his, noting, first of all, how they still tasted the same and felt the same, and despite the fact that she was wearing a different perfume now, she still smelled the same. He tangled his fingers in her hair, flickered his tongue against her lips and she parted them for him, meeting him with her own tongue willingly, pulling at his tie in a vain attempt to either choke him or take it off – neither was working.

Aiden moaned lowly into his mouth, her body involuntarily arched against his, and she felt her head spinning. That much hadn't changed, but she wondered if that was a good thing or not. She felt the acceleration everywhere he touched her, felt the heat increase in a way that reminded her of her physics classes. The scientist in her couldn't help trying to convince her that's all it was, it's all it came down to. Chemistry. Polarization. Protons, neutrons, and electrons creating energy in a metaphoric cheapness that would make sense only if she hadn't failed her physics class so many times.

His body pinned hers against the wall and his fingers began to unbutton her jacket when she remembered that just a little over an hour ago she had been on a date with another man, a nicer man, a pussy with a girly name. She forgot all about it again as Flack's lips followed a salty trail down her neck, his one o'clock shadow raspy against her skin. She tilted her head to the side to allow him to go further, to find her collarbone as his hands got too impatient, removed her jacket and let it fall on the floor, and found their way under her shirt, sliding across her stomach, dangerously close to the edges of her bra.

Aiden pulled his hands out and tangled her fingers through his, and she briefly licked his lower lip before she pulled back to look at him. "Did you call me to the scene because you knew I was on a date?"

He ignored the question for a moment, long enough to engulf her in another kiss, and she couldn't tell if he was trying to distract her or trying to think of an answer, but when he pulled back he looked confident, tall.

"I don't get to decide who works which case."

She closed her eyes as he kissed her again, disentangling their fingers and finding his way under her shirt. He began to fumble with the clasp of her bra and she took a deep breath in anticipation, but the thoughts that rushed through her head wouldn't let her enjoy his touch thoroughly. Something was nagging her and she wished she didn't know what it was, but her suspicions were too intense, felt too real.

"How do you know he's a pussy?" she asked him between short kisses.

"Hmm?"

"Lilly."

Flack's lips abandoned hers and found the delicate skin of her neck again. "Are you admitting he is?"

"Just answer the fucking question," she groaned.

"I know officer Lilly, I've seen him around," he mumbled against her skin. "I just assumed."

Aiden pulled back to look at him and make sure he was looking at her. "So, you knowing I was on a date, you knowing I was on a date with officer Lilly, and me being called on to a case you were working... that's all just a coincidence?"

"Aiden—"

"Don, we agreed—"

"You're not going out with him again, are you?" he interrupted her, suddenly looking serious and a bit hopeless, like he was expecting a blow to the face.

"Maybe," she replied. "I don't know. Why, are you jealous?"

"Me? No," he said. "Just planning my weekend."

She chuckled and rested her forehead to his, stroking the hair on the back of his neck. When she looked at him again he was smiling, and without saying a word they had a conversation that ended with him taking one step back and looking around her apartment somewhat sadly before looking at her again.

"Maybe I should go."

She nodded, looking down at his shoes. "Yeah."

He looked disappointed as he analyzed the top of her head, and when she raised her head again he put on his best smile. "You look beautiful tonight."

Aiden smiled. "You said that already."

"I mean it."

"I know."

He took one step forward again and kissed her lightly, caressing her cheek with his thumb before he forced himself to pull back.

Aiden walked him out of her apartment and rested her cheek to the door as she watched him. Her phone began to ring but she ignored it as he smiled at her, not as confidently as she'd hoped, but she smiled back and stayed there until he disappeared down the hall.

Sighing, she closed the door and turned around, and finally got the phone to stop ringing. "Hello?"

She smiled, or tried to smile, as a young, eager, pussy voice greeted her too anxiously. "Hey, Omar," she said as casually as she could, and allowed him to ask questions about her case as she walked into her living room and let her body fall on the couch. As he talked she stared at her door, half-expecting Flack to walk back in and tell her that no, he wasn't gonna leave that easily, wasn't going to let her make another mistake, wasn't gonna pull off any more stints like the one he pulled tonight - he wasn't going to let her have the final word this time.

But he never walked back in.

So she half-smiled, and finally forced herself to pay attention to the things Omar was saying. "Yeah, I had a good time, too."

The End