A/N: This is the next story in my 'Milestones' series, fitting in after First Talk- but if you haven't read that, this should still make sense! Takes place after our favourite couple's second date- if you want to read my take on their first, check out 'First Date' (ingenious title, right?)…

Thanks to the following reviewers of First Talk: wolfeylady, JenTWCSINYFAN, Everyone-Loves-A-Canadian-Girl, afrozenheart412, falling into heaven and terriberri23. Reviews give me courage to keep writing!

Lyrics this time are from Guess I'm Falling For You by the gorgeous Michael Bublé…

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI:NY. I do, however, own a TV which I can watch it on!

Kisses,

Ciara

You walk away
My eyes caress you
Then you turn and smile
You've caught me thinkin' of love with you
Guess I'm falling, I may be falling for you

Jess opened her eyes slowly, blinking the sleep from her lashes. For a moment she stared upward without really seeing. Then her eyes adjusted to the dim morning light and she realised that she was lying alone in a double bed that was most definitely not her own.

She sat bolt upright, fingers flexing automatically towards her holster.

Except- it wasn't there.

It wasn't there and she was lying in some foreign bed in a room she didn't recognise with absolutely no recollection of the events of the previous evening which had led to her being here.

Tentatively, dreading the outcome, she gripped the edge of the pale blue sheet and lifted it up to see what she was wearing…

Which was, oh dear sweet God, precious, precious little.

What the hell did I do last night? She thought wildly, yanking the bedcovers up to her chin. It wasn't that she was a prude- far from it- but she didn't want to catch sight of herself wearing only a matching lace bra-and-panties set in mint green. Because, like that, everything she tried so hard to hide was painfully visible.

She sneaked a glance to her left and saw a small window sloppily covered by a half-open Venetian blind. Watery autumn sunlight filtered in. Jess guessed that it must be about eight thirty in the morning. Glancing to her other side, she saw a jumble of clothes lying on an oatmeal-coloured tub chair. Among the dark men's jeans and wrinkled sweater she spotted the red t-bar Mary Janes and charcoal-grey scarf she must have been wearing the night before.

Frustrated, she kneaded her forehead with the knobbly skin of her knuckles as though this would bring a stream of memories flooding back. A dull aching headache drummed a rhythmic beat on her temples, so she could only assume alcohol had been involved at some point.

Dammit! she thought angrily. This wasn't like her. She wasn't the girl who went out and got plastered and then slept with some random guy she didn't know. She was the one who only went out when her colleagues forced her to, who only ever drank at family gatherings or when she was extremely emotional. So what had happened to change that?

As though to answer her queries, the door of the small bedroom creaked ominously. Jess dived for the pillow next to her and clutched it to her chest defensively. The door, with its chipped white gloss paint, swung open slowly and a head peaked around it. Jess felt her heart stop in her chest.

"Don?!"

It was a bitterly cold November evening; Jess could see white plumes of breath billowing before her like smoke from the mouth of a dragon. She tugged her long red coat closer to her thin frame and began pacing faster. She rubbed her gloved hands together in a vain attempt to warm herself up.

"Jess!"

She whirled around at the sound of her name; a relieved sigh slipped through her lips. Striding towards her, an apologetic half-smile on his chiselled face, was Don Flack. A rush of excitement flooded through her- he looked good in his dark wool coat and snugly fitting jeans.

"Where have you been?" she asked, careful to keep her voice light and joking. She didn't want him to know that she had been freaking out, certain that he'd decided that he didn't want to waste his time with a girl like her.

"I'm so sorry!" exclaimed Don, holding his hands up as he reached her. "The traffic was crazy, I ended up jumping out of the cab halfway here. Quicker to walk."

"No problem… So what exactly have you got lined up for us this evening?"

"Exactly what I told you the last time we went out: we're going skating. And don't worry, Lindsay's got Danny locked up knee deep in laundry. He won't be pulling any hair-brained schemes tonight."

"Thank God for that," Jess grinned mischievously. Danny Messer had roped his wife into following them on their first date so he could figure out the identity of his best friend's date. While the consequences had been highly entertaining, they had prevented Jess from doing what she'd been most looking forward to: finding out more about the man behind the bravado. She was looking forward to doing just that tonight, with no puppy-eyed Italian-American CSIs to stand in her way. "Let's go then!"

Don grinned and led her in the direction of the brightly lit rink. Despite the fact that it was only early November, the place was still a hive of activity. They battled through the throngs of excitable kids and anxious parents and Don forked out the cash for two pairs of skates.

"You know, I'm not really comfortable with you paying for me-"

"Tough. It's non-negotiable."

And before Jess could say another word, Don had grabbed her by the wrist and hauled her over to a bench. He took one look at the frost coating the dark wood and shrugged out of his coat, draping it over the bench. Then he gestured towards the almost-cushion. Jess felt her cheeks burn and her insides do the conga.

She bent her head low, allowing her dark hair to form a curtain around her fire-engine red face as she secured her skates. The last thing she wanted to do was look like some sort of dorky schoolkid.

"Hey guys!"

She looked up, startled, to see the slightly awkward figure of Adam Ross standing before them. To her right, Don groaned under his breath. She jabbed him with a swift elbow to the ribs and smiled up at the ginger-haired lab tech.

"Hi Adam. What're you doing here?"

"Oh, I had a s-street hockey game," he stammered, holding up his stick by way of further explanation. "I like to walk through the park on my home- it's real festive at this time of year." He coughed out a shaky laugh.

"Well, it's nice to see you," smiled Jess. This was awkward. How did she tell Adam that they were in the middle of something sort of… private, without sounding ignorant? Or cold. Or just plain rude.

"Look kid, we're kinda in the middle of a date right now. It's been real nice seeing you, but we'll have to save this little catch-up for a time when I'm not thinking about kissing the girl sitting next to me."

Adam stared at Don for a minute, then winked. "Gotcha. I'll see you guys after the weekend."

Oh. So that was how you did it.

Jess shot Don a grateful smile. "Very tactful."

"Thank you," Don beamed. He stood up and offered her his arm. She helped him into his coat and then used him for support as she stepped onto the ice.

The last time she'd gone ice-skating she was nine years old. It was a family thing, an Angell family tradition that they did every year back when her mom was still with them. She used to love skating- was pretty good at it too, in fact. But then her brothers had decided it would be fun to start jostling each other, and of course she'd jumped right in with the rest of them. She broke her wrist within five minutes and ended up in the E.D. without getting a chance to skate properly. Her mom had fed her hot chocolate and cuddled her, promising that she could go skating next year. But by then her mom had left, and nobody felt like skating anymore. The tradition had left with her mother.

It felt weird being back here.

"Jess?"

Don's concerned tone broke through her thoughts, and she realised that she'd spaced out. Hastily, she plastered on a cheerful grin and made to start a circuit of the large oval rink. Don didn't loosen his grip on her wrist.

"Are you OK?" he persisted, his piercing blue eyes scanning her for signs of weakness.

"Y-yeah," she replied uncertainly. "It's just… being here. It brings back a lot of memories."

Don nodded, soft understanding in his eyes. "I get it. Do you want to leave?"

"No! No, you've gone to so much trouble to organize everything-"

"Jess, if you're not comfortable being here then we'll go. I really don't mind." He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. Jess shot him a small watery smile and shivered subconsciously. She closed her eyes and shrugged away from him.

"No. I have to do this. I want to."

And with that, she was off. It took her a couple of minutes to get into her rhythm but when she found it, it was as though she had never been away. She loved the screech of the ice beneath her feet, the exhilarating whip of the wind in her hair as she spun around gracefully. It was almost as though she was a little girl again, with spindly plaits and two-sizes-too-big hand-me-down skates. She could see her brothers flying around her, tugging her hair and laughing as she chased them. Her father's voice echoed in her ears, warning his one and only daughter not to go too fast in case she fell. She felt the firm grasp of her mother's olive-toned hands around her waist as she scooped her up into the air, tossing her around as lightly and easily as if she was a rag doll…..

She fell to the ground with a clatter and looked up, disorientated. The chuckles of a couple of kids fell on her ears and suddenly Don's arms were around her.

"Jess! Jess, are you OK?"

She glanced up shakily to see him assessing her anxiously for damage. His face was so close to hers. She could make out every detail of his appearance; every laughter line, every spiky dark eyelash, the dimples that popped in his cheeks. Hungrily, desperately, she pressed her lips to his and began to kiss him with a passion and fury that she had not known she possessed. The ache in her chest dulled slightly.

"Jess!" Don exclaimed, pulling away. A moan slipped through her teeth and she craned her neck to kiss him again. "Jess, what are you doing? A minute ago you couldn't skate away from me fast enough and now you're trying to eat my face… Did you hit your head when you fell?"

"I'm fine!" The note of desperation in her voice didn't go unheard. Don snorted sceptically.

"The hell you are. You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I- I said I'm fine!" Oh God, why did she sound like she was begging him to believe her? To her horror, tears began to well in her chocolate eyes. She buried her face in Don's neck, defeated.

"Alright, that's it. Let's get you out of here."

Don picked Jess up in his strong, muscular arms and carried her easily from the rink. They plopped down on their bench and he helped her to slide the hired skates from her feet before retrieving her heels from the locker he had hired earlier. Then, with Jess clinging to him like a limpet, he made his way to the gates and flagged down a cab. Inside, he slid Jess onto the seat beside him.

Self-consciously, she sniffed and mopped at her red-rimmed eyes. Don leaned forward and recited his address to the cabbie. Then he turned to her awkwardly.

"Do you mind? It's just, my place is closer and you kinda seem like you're freaking out and…"

"I don't mind," Jess replied softly. Don tucked her in under his arm and she breathed in his scent gratefully. "I'm sorry."

"What for? As far as I know, getting upset isn't a criminal offence."

A smile tugged unwillingly at her lips.

"That's better," Don said encouragingly.

They passed the rest of the journey in a tentative, uncertain silence. Eventually, the cab pulled to an abrupt halt. Don handed the driver the amount owed and Jess didn't even have the energy to argue with him. She was too freaked out about the weird memories at the rink.

Inside, Jess sat nervously on Don's sofa while he clattered around the kitchen making tea.

"Stella swears sweet tea is the best remedy for hysterics," he explained, handing her a chipped green mug. Jess took it with shaking hands and sipped the piping hot liquid. Warmth flooded through her, but the ache of memories in her chest didn't subside.

Don propped himself up precariously on the coffee table and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. Jess swallowed nervously.

"Look, Jess, I understand if I'm out of line here but… what the hell was that back there? And don't tell me it was nothing because I'm not stupid. One messed up detective recognises another."

Jess winced at his demanding tone. She closed her eyes and spoke in a tight, constricted voice.

"It-it's stupid, really."

"But it's obviously a big deal for you," Don pressed gently, stroking the hands that were cupping the mug. Jess sighed tiredly.

"You won't let this go, will you?"

"Nope. I'm worried about you."

"And presumably if I won't talk you'll remind me of how I pounded on your door until you let me in?"

"You catch on fast."

"I-it's just that… being at the rink brought back a lot of memories for me," Jess whispered, focusing on the dopey-looking cartoon cat painted on the mug. "My family- we used to go there a lot when I was little. But then… then some stuff happened. And we stopped going."

"What sort of stuff?"

"My mom," Jess mumbled incoherently. Don shook his head, confused. She cleared the lump in her throat and tried again. "My mom. She- she left. I was nine. And, at first, we did OK. Dad tried so hard to keep us going, and we tried too. I think I'd managed to convince myself that if I was good enough- stopped arguing with my brothers maybe, or made my own paper-bag lunch instead of whining for cash- my mom would want to come home. But, you know, she didn't."

"So why did being at the rink set you off?" Don asked gently. He reached out and pushed a stray tendril of hair behind her ear.

"We- we went skating a lot when she was around. She was amazing, you should have seen her. It was like watching something out of the Olympics, like she was floating over the ice. She taught me to skate, and I loved it because she made me feel special. Not the way dad did, wrapping me up in cotton wool because I was his little girl, but by just being there. Me and her. It was like magic, skating around that rink with her holding my hand. It felt like all eyes were on us. It was special. W-when she left, she said she'd still bring us all skating. But things didn't work out like that. I never saw her again and- oh God, listen to me," Jess groaned, putting the mug down on the table with more force than was absolutely necessary. She made a face. "I'm sorry, you must think I'm an idiot, getting hysterical over a stupid skating rink. I'm sorry."

"Stop that," Don said sharply. "You don't have to apologize. It sounds to me like you have a lot of unresolved issues with your mom."

"I just- I just want to know why! Why did she go, why did she leave her happy little family behind? W-why did she leave me?" Jess barked a malicious, self-appraising laugh. "There I go again. Poor little Jessica Angell, abandoned by her mom and left as the only girl in a house full of Y-chromosomes. Some people actually have real problems, and here I am prattling on about my broken home."

"Jess, it's a problem for you. And it's no wonder being at that skating rink got to you. You should have said something, you didn't have to go through that."

"I honestly didn't think it would affect me like that," Jess said shakily. "I-I thought that would help me get over it. Get some closure."

"If closure's what you're after, maybe you should find her. Your mom. I bet there's a paper trail, you could track her down," Don suggested, placing his hands on her shoulders. Jess closed her eyes and gasped.

"I-I don't know if I- if I could…"

"I'll help you," Don whispered. "I'll even come with you, if you want."

"Don, you don't have to-"

"I know. But I want to. Besides, it's the least I can do. You've helped me, now I'm going to help you."

"You're going to keep playing that trump card aren't you?" Jess sighed. Don grinned and nodded. He pressed his thumbs to the corners of her eyes, rubbing away the tears that stained the delicate skin there.

"Us messed-up detectives have to stick together."

Jess giggled, surprising herself with the sound. Then a yawn exploded from her. She tried in vain to stifle it.

"Bed," Don said immediately, unconvinced. "Getting hysterical can take it out of you. Believe me, I know. You can have my bed. The cleaning lady changed the sheets today."

Jess smiled and got to her feet slowly. Immediately, a sharp, shooting pain erupted in her ankle. A gasp of pain escaped before she could suck it up. Don's hands shot out to support her.

"I- I think I sprained my ankle when I fell," she muttered.

"Do you want to put some ice on it?"

"No, it's OK. It'll probably be fine in the morning. But could you…?"

"Oh yeah, of course!" Don exclaimed, dragging her arm across his shoulder blades. She placed most of her weight on him and they hobbled lopsidedly to Don's small bedroom. Jess fell heavily onto the bed.

"Well, uh, goodnight," Don said awkwardly, standing framed in the doorway.

"Yeah, goodnight," Jess echoed. As Don turned to go, the ache in her chest screamed. Before she could stop herself, she called out, "Stay."

Don swivelled around to stare at her incredulously. "What did you say?"

"Stay. Please."

"Look Jess, I-"

"Please, Don."

"Jess, it's not that I don't want to- I do. But you-"

"I what?" Jess demanded, stung.

"You're upset. And- and broken. And possibly concussed. And I don't want to-"

"To what? Take advantage?"

"To get involved with something you'll regret tomorrow."

"I could never regret being with you," Jess breathed. "Don, I need you. I can't be alone right now, and I want to be not alone with you."

"You sure?"

"I've never been more sure of anything."

And that was that.

"Oh God!" Jess gasped as the memories of the night before came flooding back with the force of Niagara Falls. "Oh God!"

"Damn it!" Don groaned, ducking into the room. Jess noticed that he was clutching a laden breakfast tray. "I knew I shouldn't have listened to you. I knew you were upset and I-I didn't care. Jess, I'm so sorry."

"You… you stayed," said Jess in a low, stunned voice. "Why did you stay?"

"You asked me to," he said simply. "You needed me to. But you were hurting, and I shouldn't have done what I did. Your judgment was clouded, and I-"

"My judgment was not clouded. And I'm glad you stayed."

An incredulous smile burst onto Don's face and he crossed the room in a few short strides to clamber onto the bed beside her.

"So… if you don't regret it then… I guess that means we're serious. We're sticking by each other, no matter what," he said, popping a strawberry in her mouth. "We're really going to do this. Us."

"I like the sound of that."

A/N: I really don't know about this, but the plot bunny kept bugging me so I had to get it out there! Please, please, please review! I. Need. Feedback!

Kisses,

Ciara