Wow

Wow! Oh wow people liked it! Ok down to brass tacks now. First of all, I forgot to mention earlier that I don't own CSI, or any of its characters or storylines. I am merely borrowing them to fuel my imagination. I also don't own any characters from Third Watch either. So please don't sue me!

A huge thanks to everyone who reviewed, especially to Aphina and Madison Bellows and of course Brown Eyed Girl 75 for their advice and kind words. DOL, I hope that you like this one!! If you guys like it, I'll keep writing it. And I have started major research so hopefully some holes will be filled regarding the NYPD and NY itself.

Ok, here goes. Enjoy!

Chapter 2 : Twin-Tuition.

Kate could hear voices. They buzzed in her brain like angry bees.

"Kate?"

"Detective Kennedy? Can you hear me?"

"Get her out of there!"

Hands pulled the pieces of metal and trash from around her. She groaned as she felt a pain in her arm and her back. She'd have bruises, she thought, still not fully conscious of her surroundings.

She attempted to open her eyes and found herself staring up into the pale face of Stella Bonasera.

"What happened?" she croaked. "Am I dead?"

Stella laughed despite her fright. "No, Kate. You're not dead. Although it was a hell of a way to start your career with us."

"With a bang," Kate joked, struggling to sit up. "Ow. Ow!"

"Easy," Sheldon Hawkes said, gently helping her to sit up and lean against Stella for support. "Flack!"

"Yep?" Flack came over to join them. "You ok?" He directed the last at Kate, who was gingerly trying to move her extremities.

"Don't move," Hawkes said suddenly, putting out a hand to keep her still.

"Why not?" Kate froze in the act of raising her arms and looked down. "Oh God."

Sticking out of her right arm was a piece of twisted metal. Blood oozed out of it and dripped onto her shirtsleeve.

"Um, that looks bad," she said, paling slightly and looking up at Flack. She put a hand to her head. It was bleeding. And hurting. She was covered in dust and other shrapnel from whatever it was that had exploded.

"Damn," Flack said, reaching out a hand to help her to her feet. "That looks nasty. Hawkes?"

"Nothing major nicked, from what I can see," Hawkes answered with another glance at Kate. "But she'll need a stitch on her forehead and that wound patched up. The metal isn't deep. It's just awkward."

"I'm ok," Kate was telling Stella. "But I thought I was dead." She stopped, looked around. "Um, Stella, if a bomb went off then why isn't the whole area destroyed?"

Stella looked a little sheepish. "I know. I'm sorry. But the last time this happened, the device at the scene took out half a building. This one seems like-"

"A flash grenade?" Flack suggested. His own arm was bleeding through the blue shirt he wore, and his tie was askew.

"That's what I was thinking," Stella answered, keeping one arm around Kate. "It wasn't enough to damage any buildings, but she could have been seriously hurt."

"This one's like the other two," Flack said seriously. "Just on a smaller scale. It has to be the same."

"You ok?" Hawkes asked him, pointing to his arm.

"I'm fine, Hawkes." He waved away Hawkes' suggestion of medical treatment.

"You're bleeding," Kate pointed out. She looked down at her shoulder again, and felt her stomach roil.

"Kate, " Stella's voice was getting faint. "Kate, you look a little pale. Maybe you should sit down again…"

"Uh oh," Kate managed, swaying on her feet. "Going out…"

Flack lunged for her and caught her just before she hit the ground.

When she woke again, she was on a gurney and being pushed through the ER at Queen of Mercy Hospital. Her head hurt badly and she felt quite sick. There was a ringing in her ears to boot. Looking up at the various medical personnel around her, she honed in on the one familiar face.

"Flack?"

He peered down at her, relief stamped across his face. "Hey, there. You ok?"

Kate looked up at him, her eyes glazed. "You have really pretty eyes."

He laughed softly. "They all like the eyes. Oh no you don't," as her eyes rolled again. "Stay with me this time. Kate?"

"No need to yell," she answered irritably. "I don't have broken eardrums."

"Good," he answered. "Now, answer the nurses like a good girl and- what?"

"Tip for you, Detective," laughed the nurse. "Never tell a Kennedy what to do. If she's like Tara, then it could be dangerous."

Kate looked over at the other bed in the little room. Flack was sitting on it, his shirt off. He was looking anywhere but at the needle going in and out of his arm.

"Are you afraid of needles, Detective?"

He snorted. And winced as the needle slid in again. "No. Well, maybe a little. Last time I was in this place, they were plugging a hole in my chest."

Kate's eyes wandered to the scar over his heart. "Damn." She jumped as the young intern treating her pulled the metal out of her arm. "Some warning!"

"Why didn't she have to take off her shirt?" Flack demanded as the nurse placed a bandage over his lower arm and grinned at him. "Thanks."

"You're welcome, Detective. Now try and stay out of trouble."

"When am I going to be told what the hell happened?" Kate looked at him, frowning. "I just got nearly blown up-"

"You didn't get 'nearly blown up'," Flack shot back. "You were next to an exploding trash can and-"

"Got a mild concussion, and ten stitches in my arm as well as two in my head, and I-"

"Really need to be quiet," the doctor, whose nametag read Moira Knight, interrupted her. "I can't sew this hole in your head if you don't."

Kate relaxed but continued to glare at Flack, who was putting his shirt back on. "You're done? Already?"

"It's the eyes," Flack quipped, enjoying himself when she turned red as a beet. "They are the key."

"Ass," she muttered.

"All done," Announced Dr Knight cheerfully. "You two can head home now. I just want to check you over again, Kate. Detective, would you wait outside?"

"Sure." Flack winked at the still smiling nurse and strolled out.

Kate looked over at Flack as he drove towards the apartment building. He could have blown her down with a feather when it had turned out that her new neighbour the cop was the one driving the big black Jeep.

"Is there anyone I should call for you?" Flack's voice broke into her thoughts and she looked at him again.

"No need. She'll know. She always knows."

"Who'll know what?" Flack was clearly baffled. "Um, Kate, did you hit your head really hard when you went flying?"

"Shut up," she retorted, swatting at him. "She'll know. It's the twin tuition."

"Twin tuition? Right," Flack said slowly. He parked the jeep and hurried around to open the door for her.

"I have a twin sister," Kate explained. "She'll just know. She always knows."

"You sound like a parrot," Flack joked. He pressed the button for the fourth floor and glanced at her. She looked dead on her feet, yet she'd wanted to go back and help Stella and Adam clear up the crime scene. Shaking his head at the foolishness of women, he followed her into the apartment she shared with her sister.

A whirlwind came barrelling into the living room. That was the only way he could describe it. The woman was like a damn hurricane. She rushed to her sister and threw her arms around her, wincing in sympathy when she saw the bandaged arm.

"What the hell happened? Why didn't you call me? Are you ok?" Whirling around to face Flack, she continued to fire questions at them. "How many stitches? And who is this guy?"

Kate sighed wearily. "Flash bomb type thing at my crime scene. I didn't call because you were on night shift last night and I was ok. Flack was with me. Yes, I'm ok." She aimed a killer glare at her sister, anticipating her next question. "This is Detective Don Flack, from the Homicide Department. He works with me. He was hurt too."

"I'm ok," he said lightly. "Wow. You weren't kidding when you said twin. You two are like peas. In whatever peas come in." He was gawping. "I've never seen identical twins so…"

"Identical?" Kate quipped, looking over at Tara, who was seething. Her sister was like a flash grenade herself. All fire and no substance behind the heat. But if you were caught near the blast you could get hurt.

Tara glared at Flack. "Homicide? No wonder she got hurt. You guys are clearly not up to the job or all your clients wouldn't be dead."

Flack looked at her, noting the exact same features and expressions as her sister. The same dark red hair, curling wildly around a small face with big green eyes. While Kate was a little more serious, this one was obviously the loud one. She would be hard work for any man.

"That's the point of working Homicide," Flack said dryly. "We solve the crimes and put the murderers behind bars." Turning to Kate, he smiled. "Stella called. She says that you can take desk duty tomorrow and review the files that go with this. When that arm is healed, you can go back in the field." He nodded politely to Tara before leaving the apartment.

"Thanks, Flack," Kate called after him. She turned to her sister, who was tapping her foot on the ground.

"Explain," Tara ordered before she turned to go put the kettle on.

"He's a colleague. And, " Kate added, flopping onto the couch, "He's the new cop neighbour."

"I'm not talking about Tall, Dark and Sexy," Tara retorted. She smiled slowly. "Although he's going to be a later topic. I want to know what happened and how you ended up next to a bomb."

"Flash grenade type thing," Kate corrected with a grin at her sister. "It could have happened to anyone."
Tara handed her a mug of tea and curled up next to her on the couch. "A little embarrassing, though, Katie."

"Could you not remind me? They're going to be laughing at me enough as it is."

"Oh, baby," Tara cooed, clearly enjoying herself now that her initial panic had subsided. "Who's teasing you? Want me to beat them up?"

"Shut up."

"Nope," she grinned. "This is like the time that guy shot up the ER and you teased me for weeks because I slept through the whole thing."

"I'm going to clean up and change," Kate said, getting up. "Then I'm going back to work tomorrow and I'm going to go solve mysteries."

"God help us all," was Tara's answer as she dodged the pillow Kate aimed at her with her good arm.

You are not a failure, Kate told herself as she shoved at the door to the bullpen at the five five. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time and it was not your fault that some crazy left a grenade in the trashcan. This will all be forgotten.

No such luck.

Three of the seven male detectives asked her if she was the new CSI that had tried to get herself blown up. Two more asked for her phone number and the other one was hauling a suspect across the floor so he was in no position to ask anything.

Her arm ached, she hadn't slept and she was in no mood to be messed with.

"Detective Kennedy," Flack's voice said behind her. He was smiling at her.

That smile, she thought irritably. It was just her luck that the man who had managed to catch her when she passed out on her first day in the job was what Granny O Neill would have dubbed 'Serious Eye Candy'.

Ordering herself to get a grip, she smiled sweetly back and nodded when he asked if she was feeling ok.

"You got a minute?" His tone was serious.

"Sure," she answered, puzzled.

Following him into the interview room, she watched as he shut the door. "What's up, Detective?"

"It's Flack, ok. Just Flack."

"Fine. What's the problem?"

"It's the scene from yesterday. The note you got. The flash flames destroyed it. Can you remember what it said?"

Kate pursed her lips, thinking. "It said 'Let Virtue distinguish the Brave.' I think that was it. Why?"

Flack paced the room. "We've had four crime scenes in the last three months. All with the same MO, all with an explosive device and a cryptic note."

"Suspects?" Kate asked quickly, feeling the thrill of the challenge shiver through her.

"I'll get you the files," Flack answered, opening the door again and waiting until she exited ahead of him.

"Hey Flack," Kate called over her shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to solve this one," she answered. "And then your fellow homicide frat boys are going to quit laughing at me."

"Go easy on them," he said lightly. "We haven't had a new girl since Monroe came from Montana. And you're easy on the eye. They like that."

She blushed a little, wondering what the hell was wrong with her. "Thanks," she responded. "I'll be in the lab waiting for those files."

Flack stared after her, wondering what on earth had possessed him. He didn't usually look twice at the tiny redheads of the world. So what was it about this one that annoyed him and made him laugh at the same time?

Sighing a little, he went to retrieve the files that she needed and ordered a young rookie standing at the entrance to the bullpen to run them over to her.

"Got anything?" Stella poked her head around the door of the room where Kate sat, buried in files and paper. Her hair was falling out of its bun again and she was frowning at a page, humming to herself.

"Oh. Hey, Stella." She smiled distractedly at the older woman and peered down at the page again.

"How's it going?" Stella asked, rubbing her neck and yawning.

Something flashed and Kate noticed the glint of diamonds and gold on her ring finger. How had she missed that, she wondered. "It's ok. I'm looking at the pattern here." She held up the picture she had been looking at.

"James O Driscoll," Stella remembered. "He was shot, execution style. Showed signs of torture."

"He's connected to that raid on the warehouse downtown that Flack headed up a few years ago," Kate remarked. She frowned again. "That was the Wilder gang, wasn't it?"
"That's right," Stella said, wondering where the other CSI was going with this. "Gavin Wilder was shot-oh my god! Execution style!"

"Yes," Kate said, pleased with herself. "Now if you look at the other three murders, the murderer has done exactly the same to all of them."

"Kate, we've looked into the drug connection." Stella looked at the photos spread out on the table. "All of Gavin Wilder's henchmen were arrested and imprisoned for assaulting Danny and Adam. They're still serving time."

"It may not be necessarily the Wilder connection," Kate said slowly. "It's an IRA style murder. My Granny used to tell me about them. They would kneecap their victims before torturing information out of them. Then, when they were done, they would line them up and shoot them right between the eyes."

"Lovely," Stella was disgusted. "So, we're looking for an Irish mob connection."

"James O'Driscoll, Patrick Murphy, John Donahue," Kate recited. "I'd say that is a pretty good indication." She began humming again. Suddenly she looked up, her green eyes lighting up with glee. "That's it!"

"What's it?"

"The notes. Let virtue distinguish the brave. Think him poorest who shall be a slave. Honour's the song of the mind, and let friendship and honour unite."

"What are you talking about?" Flack had heard the last sentence as he came into the room. "Stell, I've got something." He was grinning like the cat with the canary.

"What have you got?" Stella asked.

"It's an Irish connection," Flack exclaimed. "To the Wilder family. Since Gavin was murdered a few years ago, the Dundon family has poached his empire. They're from another big IRA worshipping family. Drugs, property, their green fingers are in everything."
"I figured that out already," Kate cut in, laughing when he threw up his hands in disgust. "I wasn't a detective for nothing, Flack. And I found out that all of the victims were part of the guys who were responsible for killing Gavin Wilder."

"So the murderer has to be connected to the Wilder gang," Stella mused. "Didn't we put the most of them behind bars?"

"You can't kill a bunch of rats," Kate scoffed. "They just go underground for years until it's relatively safe to come out again. How do you think the Troubles in Ireland started and kept going for the last three hundred years?"

"I think we should wait and see what Adam and Kendall come up with in Trace and DNA," Stella cut in quickly, before Flack could start sniping at Kate. "Then we'll see. Kate, the song you were talking about?"

Kate smiled smugly at Flack. "I got some good out of this red hair and those damn freckles I inherited." She shuffled the notes in their clear plastic coverings around on the table.

"Let the love of our land's sacred rites, to the love of our people succeed," she sang aloud. "Let friendship and honour unite, and flourish on both sides the tweed."

"Wow," Stella was astounded. "You can sing!"

"It's an old Irish rebel song," Kate told her. "It's called 'Both Sides The Tweed'. It was written to tell people that Ireland could be free if people just pulled together and wanted it enough."

"Damn," Flack whistled at Stella as Kate left the room, still humming. "Irish is something, ain't she?"

"Like Montana," Stella joked. "Her and Lindsay are going to be great together."

"We should be prepared," Flack said glumly, " to be in for a real treat. They're going to solve crimes on their own to spite me."

"Go solve this one," Stella ordered. "And we'll call you when we get DNA back on our victim."

She watched as he headed towards the trace lab to annoy Adam. And smiled widely. This was going to be very interesting!!

A/N: So, what do you think? Sorry there weren't more technicalities in it. I'm still researching it. And I'm Irish, for anyone who thinks I'm stepping out of line on the whole IRA thing. I don't think they're still as bad as they were when I was growing up.

Did I mention that I don't own any of it? Just the ones you don't recognise. It's been a few days coming coos I've had exams and other stuff going on. Please review and let me know if it's worth continuing or if you have any plot suggestions or otherwise I'd love to hear them.

Also, anyone think I write too much on people and not enough on the actual crimes? I can try and correct that.