Disclaimer: I own nothing, I don't iron and I don't have a clue how to fix the darn formating


Domestic God

Ironing was one of the few household chores that Jess Angell refused to undertake. "It's your shirt Flack – if you want some woman to wash and iron it for you, go see the Italian Mama in the cleaners on the corner. We've had this conversation before and the answer's never going to change. Me cook, you iron – end of story! There's plenty of tasty treats in the kitchen to keep your belly happy over the next few days when I'm gone and a whole heap of stuff there in the laundry pile to keep you out of trouble."

Flack smirked as the fiery brunette standing in front of him stood her ground, "You won't even do one shirt before you leave Jessie? Please? For me?" Enjoying goading her, Flack pushed the iron along the countertop a little "I'll do that thing I know you like…that thing that gets you all hot and bothered…" Laughing as Jess' expression softened from irritated to contemplative of his bribe, he stretched over and plucked a shirt from the offending pile. "If you stop fighting and let me get on with my ironing Angell, there might be just enough time to fit that other thing in this morning too!"

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Just as he was reaching for the last shirt and only part of the way through a Deadliest Catch marathon on Discovery, the buzzer sounded and Stella's disembodied voice told him to "Hurry up and let me in!"

Stretching up to brush a kiss to his cheek, Stella raised an amused eyebrow at the neat row of shirts. "Angell has trained you so well! Did you even used to own an iron Flack?!" she teased, before asking "Where is Jess anyway? Out partying?"

"Nah, she's staying out of town tonight," Flack shook his head. "They were exhuming a John Doe and she was speaking to the local ME. Some guy – single stab wound to the chest – found in his car in the early 70s. She's tied it back to a couple of other similar cases and finally got a court order to run a second autopsy."

Making a face at the prospect of an exhumation in the middle of winter, Stella asked "So, want to have dinner with me since your girl's away?"

Giving her a wide grin, he nodded "Sure Stel' - you'll always be my favorite Greek dinner date after all!"

:-:

Flack watched with a little confusion as the CSI began poking around in the kitchen. "Looking for something?"

"Yeah, where are your take-out menus? Is the food good in this neighborhood?"

"There's good pizza and Chinese, but I'll make dinner Stella. Don't want you telling people you come all the way over to visit and I make you eat take-out."

"You'll make dinner Flack?!" Stella smirked, "You do know that I still don't believe breakfast counts as an evening meal?!"

Pushing past her and towards the fridge, Flack scowled "I can cook…I'm a good cook."

"Sure Don!" she nodded, peering over his shoulder at the dish of chicken casserole with Jess' neatly handwritten label he held in his hand, "Throwing what your girlfriend makes into the microwave totally makes you a 'good cook'!"

:-:

Watching as he diligently laid the table, sliced bread and made salad, poured wine and served up steaming platefuls, Stella smiled fondly.

"What?"

"You boys have really grown up over the past couple of years…"

Looking blankly, Flack raised an eyebrow "Which boys?"

"You and Messer," she grinned. "I was round seeing Lindsay a couple of days ago. Danny was in a tizzy over his Panettone and Lucy's angel costume for the daycare nativity. And here you are. In on a Thursday night, busy with your ironing and quite domesticated. I remember the days when the pair of you would be out terrorizing the town and calling me to bail you out!"

"Jeez" he snorted, "Is he still going on about that costume! He was over here the other week asking me about it…how the hell would I know how to make a halo out of tinsel for a baby. But you know something? It turns out that Google really does have all the answers!"

Laughing helplessly at the mental image of a First Grade Detective and a CSI puzzling over tinsel, a halo and a toddler, Stella thought it was safest just to keep eating.

:-:

Over one of Jess' homemade meals, the remainder of a carton of Rocky Road ice-cream and too many glasses of Pinot Grigio, he and Stella covered Lab and Precinct politics and gossip, countless stories in the news, the Messers and Sheldon Hawkes, before reaching their own lives.

"So Don. Jess? Tell me why it is, exactly, that you've not asked the girl to marry you yet?"

Emptying the last of the bottle into the two glasses, he gave her an exasperated sigh "Believe me Bonasera, you do not want to go there."

"You've asked her?!" Stella leaned forward with a greedy-for-gossip wide eyed look, "Tell your Aunty Stel' all about it!"

Shaking his head, Flack tried staring her out, giving up after only a few seconds and admitting "Yeah, I asked her. She didn't think I was being serious though…"

Seeing his glum expression, she rubbed a comforting hand across his arm. "The next time I ask, she'll damn well know how serious I am. But enough about me – you and Mac Taylor?"

"We're just friends," Stella nodded quickly, ignoring his snort of laughter, "That's all."

"Just friends?! Sure Stella, friends who spend all their time together and stay over at each other's apartments most nights? I'm a cop, remember?! Nothing gets past me."

Narrowing her eyes, Stella stared at him in silence for a few minutes before randomly offering "Did you hear that Lab is having a night out at the start January? A sort of belated Christmas and New Years thing. We're going to some Mexican place that does salsa dancing too. It'll be good – you and Jess should come too."

:-:

Despite suggesting that she spend the night since the snow was beginning to fall heavily, Stella was firm in her decision to go home. Watching as she clambered into a familiar black SUV and kissed the driver, he tapped on the window pane and gave her smirk then an 'I'm Watching You' gesture.

Chuckling at the evening conversation, Flack methodically began tidying the kitchen before checking his cell and texting Jess; grinning as she swiftly replied with a goodnight message and telling him that she'd be home the next day.

:-:

Stealing into the silent bedroom long before dawn, Jess stripped down to her camisole and panties before shivering in the cool night air. "Don? You awake?"

He groaned a little and shook his head, "No," before burrowing further under the covers.

"Don!" Her whisper grew far louder and she gave him a gentle shove, "Shift over and give me the warm bit!"

As he shook his head a second time, Jess slipped a cold hand under the covers and pressed it against his bare torso. Yelping "Christ!" he threw back the quilts and pulled her into bed, covering them again quickly, "Why can't you be normal and get into bed quietly woman?!"

Laughing softly at his protests, she eased herself along him, pressing their bodies together "Because you'd be bored if I was normal!"

"Perhaps," he scowled, before pulling them deeper into the warmth and kissing her sleepily. "Hey gorgeous, I didn't think you'd be back until later."

Wriggling so she was even closer to his body, she smiled softly "Hey. Yeah, we'd been going to drive down after breakfast but…change of plan."

"Did you miss me or something?!"

"Mm, or something," she nodded with a laugh, pulling him close for another kiss.

He had almost fallen asleep again, lulled by the sensation of her fingers tracing along the jagged scar on his abdomen. As her hand slowed, he assumed she'd fallen asleep and pressed a kiss to her head that rested on his shoulder.

"Don?" Her voice was quiet and tired, "I don't like exhuming bodies. It's cold and miserable and skanky. And the creepy corner's assistant kept staring at my ass. When I go, I'm going to get myself cremated just to make damn sure no one can dig me up. What'd you do last night?"

He pulled her closer, chiding "This is crap pillow talk baby. Shut up about exhuming bodies and what you're going to do when you 'go'. I finished all the ironing like a good slave and Stella came over for dinner. She thinks the thing she's got going with Taylor is still a secret and asked if we wanted to go their Lab night out after the holidays. It involves tequila and dancing, so I said you'd be there. Now, either stop yakking and let me go back sleep or give me your good talk!"

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