A/N: I know it's been a while, but I was having trouble with a transision scene in this.

Summary: Lynne is making ready for a New York runway show for Armani. It's the day of the show and all her models call in with food poisoning. Not to worry, though! She has Plan B. But how will she get all her cops to agree to the show on such short notice?

When the plane hit down on the tarmac, all Lynne could think of was that she was finally back where she belonged: home. It had been three months since the last time she'd touched foot on United States soil and she could hardly control her glee.

Lynne had spoken to Jimmy Deakins two days before her plane had embarked to New York. He was going to send someone to Newark International Airport to pick her up … lucky her they were sending a couple cops with badges that could get past security and pick her up at the gate.

As she gathered her laptop, sketchbook and carry on bag full of gifts for her cops, Lynne grinned infectiously, causing the other French businessmen on the plane to smile politely back at her. She turned her cell phone on as she made her way out of the plane and into the airport terminal, her grin still firmly in place on her face as she rushed headlong into the waiting arms of her brother, Paul.

"Paul!" she squealed in delight as she stepped back to get a better look at her brother. She looked at his companions and smiled again in delight as she recognized Bobby, Emil and Mitch. When she saw the sign the three men where holding she doubled over in laughter. In bold letters the sign proclaimed: Will Solve Crime for Armani.

When she finally got her laughter under control, Lynne shook her head at the three of them, "You guys are too much. Who's idea was the sign?"

Mitch scratched his head in a mock effort to remember, "I think it was Lennie's, but it could have been Sean's."

Emil rolled his eyes, "Actually, Mitch, it was Dan's. Remember? He saw the picture of Lynne in the Cap's office."

The woman cocked her head to one side as Bobby folded the sign again, Paul took her carryon and Mitch made a grab for her laptop bag. She handed it to him without pause and said, "Who's Dan?"

"He's the new guy in Narcotics," Emil explained as they headed toward the parking garage (Lynne's luggage having been shipped to the hotel a few days before to avoid being lost in the flight), "My new partner actually. Daniel Eames – nice man."

At Bobby's slight flush of the cheeks at the mention of Emil's partner, Lynne couldn't help but tease him, "What's the matter, Bobby? You got a crush on the new guy?"

As the other three men laughed at Goren's expense, the big cop's face turned tomato red. Lynne bumped his hip with her own (thanks to the added height of her Jimmy Choo stiletto sandals). The two had regressed back to their friendship days before they had ever slept together; both were comfortable in their new relationship and regained friendship … even if some of the other guys still teased Bobby about letting Lynne get away. Truth be told almost all of them were still very jealous of Bobby for ever having had that relationship with the spry, fiery woman.

Bobby bumped her back lightly, very conscious of the amount of pressure he was using so she would not fall in the very expensive heels she wore. "He happens to be the brother of my new partner."

The cops (and Paul) waited silently as Lynne went through Customs, their silent forms a big support and … menacing presence for the airport personnel.

Lynne grinned again as she walked with the men to the SUV they had hijacked from One Police Plaza with the permission of Captain Jimmy Deakins. "So if you can't screw your partner you're gonna screw his brother?"

"Her brother," Mitch said as Bobby sent a silent glare to Lynne. "His new partner – actually they've been together for about four months now – is a woman."

Lynne raised her eyebrows as she looked at Bobby again, "Four months?"

Bobby nodded, clearly embarrassed at the topic of conversation. Of course, that didn't stop Emil from saying, "Yep. He's finally found someone willing to put up with him. Actually, they just took down a guy going around killing abortion doctors."

Lynne's smile turned from teasing to sincerely happy at the news. Then she had a very bad thought that was just dying to be voiced: "Is she pretty?"

Paul rolled his eyes, "Get in the car, Lynne, and stop tormenting Bobby." He raised his own eyebrows at his sister before saying, "Unless you want me to tell them what you told me the last time you were here."

Lynne stuck her nose in the air with a humph of outrage before sliding into the middle of the back seat in the SUV, snugly encircled by Emil and Paul while Mitch drove and Bobby rode in the passenger seat. The car ride was silent fore the most part until Lynne said, "I brought presents for all of you," as they pulled up outside the hotel Armani put her up in whenever she was in New York.

Mitch grinned back at Lynne as he double parked the car, "Of course you did. You always do."

"Is that why you came to pick me up from the airport, Mitch? To get your present early?" Lynne asked, her eyes wide and incredulous. "Tsk, tsk, not nice, Detective. Just for that you're all going to have to wait until dinner tonight."

Emil slapped the back of Mitch's head, "Idiot. Why do you always have to go opening your mouth? I, for one, wanna see what she got us this time." It had become tradition ever since Lynne had moved to take over the advertising department in the Paris branch of Armani that when she came home to New York the first night back involved a dinner with all her 'guys' and a successful lavishing of presents on all of them … somehow, though, on her birthday they had surprised her with an even bigger dinner than usual and gave her the best gift in the world: a full day at the spa followed by their own (terribly hilarious and perfect black-mail material) version of The Odd Couple.

Before the conversation could continue, however, Lynne's phone began ringing. "Hello?" she answered.

"Lynne?" the terrified voice of Terry Landing. "Where are you?"

"Terry? I'm at the hotel. Why, what's wrong?" Lynne's brow furrowed as she led the four men into the hotel to check in.

"I screwed up! It's terrible! Oh my God, I don't know how it happened!"

"Terry!" Lynne nearly shouted, "You're babbling. Now, tell me what happened."

"You know the runway show tonight?"

Lynne glanced at her watch, "The one that starts in five hours?"

"Yes. That one … All of our male models … just came down with a really bad case of food poisoning."

"WHAT?" Lynne yelled this time, her voice reverberating through the lobby, causing all who heard to look at her in wonder that such a tiny woman could make such a loud noise.

She took a deep breath to calm herself down – the runway show was the main reason she was in New York. "Please tell me this is your idea of a joke," she said, her voice now low and full of barely controlled anger.

Then came the four words Lynne knew Terry would respond with, but had hoped to God she wouldn't hear: "I wish I could."

"Sweet Mary, mother of God," Lynne whispered under her breath, just loud enough for Paul and Bobby (the closest ones to her) to hear. "Okay, Terry. I need you to take a deep breath and stay calm for me. I'll be there in half an hour."

She closed the flip phone, effectively ending the call before sighing and going to check into her room. With her bags in her room, and the guys standing before her like cabana boys, she finally said with a forced smile, "All of the models for tonight's show have come down with a sudden case of food poisoning."

Lynne moved to sit on the sofa in the room, releasing her feet from their Jimmy Choo torture. With a groan she massaged her aching arches before saying, "Bobby, can you find me the burgundy oxfords in my bag?"

He scrunched his face into a scowl, "The ones that make you look five inches shorter than you actually are?"

She glared at him silently before saying, "Okay then, you find me a pair of comfortable flats in that bag that aren't going to make me look short."

When he handed her a pair of ballerina flats made by some other designer she'd rather not think of, she just turned her glare onto the shoes. "No. They pinch my heels."

He sighed in resignation before going back to the hunt of finding her a pair of shoes that would be 'acceptable'. "You know," Mitch said, "Your shoes are worth a small fortune … couldn't you have got some that are actually comfortable?"

Lynne's smile called him an idiot as she said, "I only actually paid for about five pairs of the shoes in my closet … and if I only accepted shoes that I liked and were comfortable, I would be considered one of the most stuck up designers in the world, and have no shoes."

"What about these?" Bobby asked, holding up a pair of chocolate suede buckle flats.

"Those'll work," Lynne said, holding out her hands for the shoes. "Now: Bobby, I need you to call Captain Deakins and tell him to get all the Major Case guys gathered together at the Armani building in exactly one hour. Emil, I want you to go make sure the guys at Narcotics do the same; and Mitch, same goes for you and Homicide. I want everyone who's not on duty there in exactly one hour. Got it?" At their nods she shooed the from the room, "Go on. And remind them to carpool!" The three detectives left without argument or question.

Paul lagged behind, "Lynne?"

She turned to look at him, wondering what was bothering her brother, "What is it, Paul?"

He took a deep breath before asking, "You remember when I told you three weeks ago that I was going to try for a spot in that new play?" At her nod, he continued, "Well … I got it."

Lynne grinned, giving her older brother a hug, "That's great, Paul! Wonderful! Now, come on, I have to get over to the Armani building before Terry has a heart attack."

---

By the time Lynne walked into the building Armani was having its fashion show in, Terry very nearly was having a heart attack. When she saw Lynne walking her way, Terry ran at her and hugged the much smaller woman tightly.

"Oh, thank God!" Terry cried in relief. Lynne patted her shoulder uncomfortably, trying to maneuver her way out of the bone-crushing hug.

"Terry, let her go," James said as he walked toward the women with a small, relieved smile on his face. "What's Plan B, boss?"

Lynne smirked slightly after Terry let her go, "What makes you think I have a Plan B? What if Plan A was all there was?"

James smirked in response as Terry stuttered, "B-but there ha-has to be a Pl-plan B-b-b-b! There has to!"

Lynne chuckled, "Of course there's a Plan B. But it happens to go by the name Plan C, for Cop." She looked at her watch, "They should be arriving in a few minutes. James, do you have the prototypes you were working on for the cops done yet?"

James nodded, "Almost – just a few more seams left to sew. I left them in my office, though. Why?"

"I need you to head over and get them as quickly as possible. They're Plan B."

James grinned, "Oh, boss, I like the way you think."

---

When Lynne arrived back at the Armani building with James in tail, there were fifteen officers mulling around in her office. One of them, discussing something manly with Bobby, Lynne didn't recognize.

She walked up to them, "You must be Dan Eames. I'm Lynne."

Dan shook her hand, "It's nice to meet you. I've heard … interesting things about you." At her raised eyebrows he elaborated, "All good. Don't worry, ma'am."

Lynne chuckled, "Wow. I don't think I've been called 'ma'am' by a police officer since," she turned to Bobby, "Since the first time I met you and Emil, actually." Turning her attention back to Dan, she added, "Call me Lynne. Everyone else does and it might get a little confusing if you don't."

"Now, Lynne," Lennie Briscoe said loudly enough to gain everyone's attention, "What's up with this thing? Why are we here?"

Lynne grinned now that she had everyone's attention, "Do you all remember when you signed up for this gig? I told you that there may be a time when I needed your help … well that time has come."

She nodded to James who took up the narration, "There's a runway show that starts in four hours that is now without models for our men's line."

"What happened?" Detective Howard White asked, curious about the turn of events.

"A mass case of food poisoning," James explained. "All the models went out to the same restaurant for breakfast and … apparently the oil was bad. You all are our last resort."

"Consider it a personal favor to me," Lynne added when James had finished and his words were met by shocked silence.

"Meaning?" Emil asked.

Lynne smiled at him sweetly, "Meaning if you do this, I'll take you all out for drinks and reenact what happened the last time you made me sing karaoke."

"What song?" Jimmy Deakins asked, his eyes lighting up at the possibility.

"For this? … 'I'm Too Sexy'."

"By Right Said Fred?" At her nod the answer was almost simultaneous from all the cops, "I'm in!"

---

Lynne sighed as she slipped into the Mary Jane stiletto pumps in place. She looked over at her guys and grinned at their nervous mannerisms. It was, after all, their first runway show and they were concerned about the obvious things (tripping, falling down, generally making an ass of themselves on camera).

Daniel Eames was about the same size as Emil, so when Terry had returned to the hall where the show was taking place she brought two of Emil's suits with her. One, Lynne had Dan put on and she went to work tailoring it to fit his slightly slimmer body.

Now, it was moments before Lynne was to go out and announce the start of the show, the men were nervous, Terry was drinking a cup of tea to calm her frayed nerves, and James was walking around with water bottles, calming the cops.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to announce a change in tonight's show," Lynne said as she stepped out onto the catwalk. "Tonight, we will still be showing our Men's Business Line … but the men walking down this runway will not be models."

At the shocked murmurs that arose, Lynne raised her hand to ask for silence. "Instead," she continued, "They will be some of New York City's finest police officers, detectives … and even a captain."

She walked back off stage and cued the music to start, prompting Jimmy Deakins (he was the unfortunate soul who picked the short straw) to start walking the gauntlet.

---

"I'm too sexy for my love too sexy for my love
Love's going to leave me

I'm too sexy for my shirt too sexy for my shirt
So sexy it hurts
And I'm too sexy for Milan too sexy for Milan
New York and Japan …"

Lynne sang the song with gusto, doing her own little dance on the stage as she sang for the large group of men in the back of the room. She felt ridiculous singing the spoof on models, but considering what she had just put her guys through, if they wanted her to sing it in a karaoke bar frequented by cops … then sing it she would.

"I'm too sexy for my too sexy for my too sexy for my

'Cos I'm a model you know what I mean
And I do my little turn on the catwalk
Yeah on the catwalk on the catwalk yeah
I shake my little touche on the catwalk …"

As tempted as she was to actually shake her ass at the guys in the back of the room, Lynne held back, the more dominant part of her brain reminding her that there were other cops besides her own in the bar.

"And I'm too sexy for this song."

Lynne ended the song with a flourish as she pranced off the stage and back to her guys (who were laughing their asses off at her exaggerated performance). "So?" she said, "Was that good enough?"

"Lynne, I knew there was a reason we kept you around!" Jimmy said with a grin.

She grinned in response, "You mean besides the free Armani?"

"I'd hardly call it free! Especially not after that show we had to put on tonight," Howard complained before diving back into his rather frothy black beer.

"Oh, Howwie, don't complain!" Lynne chastised, "It wasn't that bad!"

Just then Bobby walked back to the table from the bar, "Nice performance, Lynne."

Lynne grinned at him, "And who was that blonde you were chatting up?"

He blushed and muttered something as Jimmy answered, "His partner – Alex Eames. I didn't know she was here, Goren."

Bobby shrugged, "Dan saw her. I promised I'd buy her a margarita after we got Griscom. Now was as good a time as any to make good on it."

Lynne yawned, "Damn jetlag. Okay, I'm going to head back to my hotel – who's my guard dog for the night?"

"I am," Emil said, standing up and placing a few bills down on the table to pay for the drinks he'd had. Having one of the guys take Lynne back to her hotel had been started during her first trip back to the States after moving to France. Being as she was still wary of taking cab rides by herself since her kidnapping, they rotated who got the 'honor' of accompanying her in the cab back to the hotel.

She nodded, "Good. Let's go." She sent a smile to the rest of the cops, "Presents tomorrow. I made you all custom ties with your badges on them. Something nice to wear from now on when you go to memorial services. Night!"

Soon Lynne was safely ensconced in her hotel room, fast asleep in the king sized bed, beneath a down comforter, surrounded by goose feather pillows, dreaming of a time when she didn't have the hole in her heart, left by the death of her brother.

A/N: Happy Chanukah. Reviews make excellent Chanukah presents.