Disclaimer: I do not own them, just borrowing them or previous events for a while to have some fun. Also any characters from another show that you recognise belong to CBS.

Thanks to Lily Moonlight for the read through and helping me to keep things real.

Chapter 11 - Secrets

Flack scrubbed his hand across his chin relieved that she had agreed to stay, but anxious whether he could come up with anything in the next 24 hours to put a stop to the attempts on her life. He could hear her in the kitchen preparing breakfast and was about to follow her when someone knocked on the door. He cast another glance at the kitchen, they weren't expecting anyone quite yet, the temperature was rising, it was enough to drive everyone crazy; he hoped today would be a good day and people would stay inside and stay cool. Another knock sounded, he pulled his gun from his waistband and moved towards the door. The kitchen door creaking drew his attention and he looked back and raised a hand to stop her saying anything, or moving from where she stood. He waited to be sure she had stopped before edging towards the door again. Concealing himself against the wall he eased the curtain back just enough to see out, the street was quiet and it concerned him that there had been no warning from the surveillance team. His immediate worry however was the fact that he had no clear look at who was on the porch; the guy appeared to be a delivery driver in dark overalls and a matching baseball cap.

Letting the curtain go he cursed silently, cast a glance at Karla still standing by the kitchen door then eased the front door open to the extent of the security chain.

"Hey Man, gas company, I got a call out to check your boiler, dispatch says it smells funny."

Breathing a sigh of relief he dropped his weapon and released the door properly, allowing their visitor to enter. Nothing further was said until the door was firmly closed again.

"Hawkes, you had me going for a bit. Why didn't we get a head's up?"

"We tried; cell tower in the area has had a power failure, signals down for about a mile."

Flack stashed his weapon back in his belt and they turned to Karla. "Morning Karla, I said I'd stop by and take a look at that dressing," Hawkes announced walking towards her waving the gas company holdall he was carrying.

"Like the disguise doc, pretty good thinking that one," Flack observed the bright greeting she gave the other man.

Hawkes chuckled softly as he indicated for her to take a seat. "As much as I'd like to stay and discuss the finer details, I need this to be a quick visit. How has your arm been?"

Flack stood by and watched as she took a seat at one end of the couch and talked to Hawkes. The tension that she had exhibited earlier was gone, she even looked a little less tired, something he was grateful for. While she was busy with Hawkes it gave him a better chance to observe her, watch how she moved her head and her hair swung around her face. The smile she gave Hawkes as he applied a fresh dressing to her arm seemed to light up the room, a contrast to the intense concern she had shown earlier as he revealed his darkest secrets to her over Angell. As his mind regressed to the early hours he could feel her touch on his arm, the soft silky feel of her hair under his fingers and wondered what it would be like- Damn it! He had to put that out of his mind, he was there to protect her, getting away from her for a few hours would let him get his head back in the game. She'd probably be relieved too not to have him hanging around, to have some female company. When he dragged his mind back to the present Hawkes was standing up to take his leave.

"It's starting to heal nicely, keep it covered today and we'll see tomorrow how you're doing," Hawkes told her.

"Thanks Doc."

Hawkes moved towards Flack. "She's doing fine, just looks like you two didn't sleep much last night, she having nightmares?" He asked quietly as they turned to the door.

"Probably, she mentioned the puppets. ..."

"And probably the other attacks as well, I don't need to tell you that sort of thing is normal. Encourage her to rest when she can. Anything you need Stella to bring over?"

Flack shook his head. "Nah, we're good, unless she can do anything about the temperature."

"It's gonna be a hot one alright." Hawkes smirked as he reached for the door handle and turned it.

"I'll see you later doc." Flack answered as the door swung open. "Thanks, we'll be sure to call again if that smell comes back." He continued more loudly as Hawkes left the house. Pausing for a moment to check the street he closed and locked the door then turned to Karla.

"Are you alright?" He asked crossing the room towards her.

"Yeah, I just don't do well at being cooped up, so the prospect of staying here all day with nothing to do is kind of a downer." The smile from a few minutes before had been replaced by the tense frown he had noted earlier. "As much as I appreciate what you're doing for me detective, you don't have to take the whole burden, I'm a trained agent, I can take some responsibility for myself," her tone was calm and collected and he couldn't fail to notice that she had reverted to calling him detective. Why did she keep putting that wedge between them? Reminding him that this relationship was supposed to be purely professional. She looked up and he found himself staring into her cobalt blue eyes, making him wonder what other colours he could see reflected with her different moods. In the diner the day before he had read hesitation and uncertainty when they were grey-blue. He wasn't sure what they reflected now, but he guessed she was frustrated at the events of the last few days.

"Karla," he sighed. "I'm sure you can handle yourself under normal circumstances, now don't jump on me here, but these aren't normal circumstances. .... Yeah, you're my responsibility, but right now I wish you weren't-" he began, but knew it was the wrong move as soon as the words fell from his mouth and before he could change what he was attempting to say she had cut him off, the blue from her eyes seeming to become more pronounced.

"Thanks, I think I kind of already figured that out. Don't worry I'm sure you can find someone at the station to palm me off to." She snapped and marched towards the kitchen.

He glance upwards, "Okay, I know that didn't come out the way it should and I just got my ass kicked, so don't laugh." He muttered, picturing Jess laughing at him.

.....

Danny entered the lab where Hawkes was again pouring over evidence from the Mirage case.

"I may have some good news," he announced greeting the other CSI, "which is about time, for an open and shut case," Danny moaned as Hawkes looked up from the microscope.

"What have you got?"

"A missing persons report has just been filed and the description fits our vic, right down to the tattoo on his arm," he held out the file he was holding and Hawkes took it, opening it up and pulling the photo out. "He's a cop, works at the evidence warehouse in Brooklyn, course that photo shows him with a full head of hair." Danny added referring to the photo in the file.

Hawkes studied the photo, "you know that open and shut case?" he asked, "well it just got a lot more complicated, I found a copy of this photo among the stuff brought back from the nightclub." Hawkes held up the one used for the missing persons report in the file Danny had given him.

"Doesn't mean it's relevant," he commented rubbing his face.

"Maybe not, but when it has Karla Morgan's prints all over it, I'd say that puts a whole new spin on things." Hawkes announced, rummaging in the file and pushing a piece of paper across the counter.

Danny picked it up, "Aphrodite?" he groaned, "Are we sure they're her prints?"

"Stella managed to pull a set from a coffee cup she used yesterday in the break room, they match the photo and the license." Hawkes handed him the paper which confirmed the findings.

"Have you run her prints in the system?"

"Mac said no, knowing the bullet flew a red flag to the bureau he didn't want to risk that Agent Pearson returning, although now we may have to." Hawkes half shrugged.

"I'll let you give the boss the good news then," Danny chuckled sarcastically, "I'll call Flack, he'll probably want to ask her a few questions."

"Thanks, … have we had a DNA match back yet?" Hawkes asked as Adam entered the lab.

"Right here, your nightclub vic is definitely one Ethan Warner, failed beat cop and now washout at the evidence lockup." Adam informed them, handing Hawkes the test results.

"Who reported him missing?"

"His boss, guy's got no family and according to the missing persons report just as few friends, the boss reported him when he failed to show up for work for the second morning in a row and he couldn't contact him which apparently is unusual." Danny offered saving Hawkes from having to read the full details from the file.

"Think we should take a look at his apartment?" Hawkes asked, "just to rule out foul play."

"Can't we just rule this a tragic accident in a bar, do we have to go digging for other stuff?"

"Got to follow the evidence Danny you know that." Adam piped up echoing something he'd obviously heard from Mac.

"For that you get to go on a field trip," Danny ordered, "get your kit, you can go with me."

Adam pulled a disgusted face at Danny, "you're going to make me go out in this heat?" he whined. Danny grinned at him.

"Adam you're from Arizona, you should be used to the temperature." He quipped as he left the room leaving Adam to trail in his wake.

.....

Don was sitting at his desk when the duty desk sergeant pointed him out to a visitor.

"Don Flack?" Questioned the dark skinned man, holding out his hand, "is there somewhere we can talk in private?" Don looked up slowly, then stood up and took the guy's hand.

"You are?"

"Derek Morgan, Behavioural Analysis Unit Quantico, but I'm here on a personal matter, I believe you know my wife, Karla." He flashed his credentials at the detective to confirm his statement.

"Your wife?" Flack raised his eyes; she had denied being married a few days earlier, so why was this guy saying she was.

"Can we have this conversation someplace else, please?" Morgan asked softly.

Flack nodded and led the way to an empty interrogation room. Both stood assessing the other for a few minutes, but it was Morgan who broke the silence. "I'm gonna cut to the chase, Karla's in trouble, I don't know what's going on, but whatever it is, I'm here to help."

"Let me get one thing straight, if you're married, why would she say she isn't?" Flack asked pointedly.

"I don't see that's relevant right now, but if you know where she is I'd like to see her." Morgan parried, his tone quiet but firm.

"Have you spoken to her recently?" He could play twenty questions with the best of them and the FBI agent didn't bother him. He was technically still responsible for Karla Morgan's protection, all attempts to pass off the detail having failed dismally, for some reason Sinclair insisted on him playing bodyguard. So there was no way any FBI agent, no matter what the connection was going to get to her without some thorough digging, including looking up their so called marriage.

"Last night for a couple of minutes, she said she was fine, but I could tell she wasn't, she's got friends in the unit who are worried about her." Flack recalled the hastily ended conversation in the break room and the call she had taken at the house the night before. Maybe he was the same guy she talked to, but married to? That didn't make a whole lot of sense, she didn't seem married, or was he just choosing to ignore that detail? He observed the other guy for a minute.

"She's in protective custody; I can't say anymore ... it looks like you've had a wasted journey." He answered finally.

"Protective custody? What the hell is going on here?" Morgan exploded, shocked at the detective's words.

"That's what we're trying to figure out. ... You know anyone who might have an axe to grind?" Flack asked forcefully.

"In our line of work there's always someone with an axe to grind, but we're not working the same cases right now, so no; I don't know." Morgan answered confidently, then took a deep breath, "I'm not here to make trouble, will you let me talk to her? Maybe I can help figure everything out."

As much as he hated to admit it the agent had a point, if he was really who he claimed to be then he would know her better, he might be able to get information from her she had been withholding from NYPD, but at the same time not knowing what she was involved in could he be part of the problem? Flack scrubbed his hand over his face; she was currently his responsibility and he wasn't going to let just anyone near her.

Morgan broke into his thoughts, "look man I know in your shoes I'd have some serious problems with letting me in, but I'm gonna let you do what you need to if it will satisfy you that I mean her no harm. Check me out, run me through any system you like, but get this, one way or another I will see her." His tone was calm and quiet and to anyone that knew him it showed how wound up and angry he was, but to Flack he was stunned by the quiet forcefulness from the agent before him.

Flack stuck his hands on his hips to prevent himself from showing his frustration in other ways, like rubbing his face or punching the guy. "I'm gonna need you to answer some questions, but first ... Sit tight." Flack instructed before leaving the room and marching to his desk.

.....

Stella opened the door to admit the Chief of Detectives to the safe house, a little surprised to see him there.

"Chief? What brings you here?"

"Your charge, how is she holding up?" Stella noticed him looking around the room.

"She's in the kitchen, I guess she's doing as well as she can, she's very quiet."

"Mind if I have a word?" He asked formerly knowing that he wouldn't meet with resistance, but it was courtesy after all.

"No, I've got to call Flack and catch up on any developments go ahead." She directed and pulled her phone from her pocket.

Sinclair moved to the door separating the two rooms and pushed it open carefully, before stepping inside and letting it swing closed behind him. "Karla?"

She looked up from the food she was preparing and stopped to wipe her hands before greeting the visitor. "Chief Sinclair, I'm surprised to see you here."

"I've been speaking to Agent Pearson and in light of the current situation I feel it is in everyone's best interests if you talk to Detective Flack, tell him everything, he will then judge what information can be relevant to the rest of the case."

"I see," She indicated for the Chief to take a seat at the table which he did, "can I get you some coffee?"

"Actually some juice will be just fine." He replied taking a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping his brow, while he waited for her to serve the drink before she took a seat opposite him.

"I thought Pearson wanted me to keep quiet."

"It's out of his hands, NYPD is the customer here and we invited in the FBI, and I can just as easily send them away, which is what I've done, this isn't a federal case anymore, I should have realised that I've got a trusted team right here at our Crime Lab. Right now what concerns me most is ensuring your safety and while I appreciate that being stuck here isn't ideal I hope I can ease things a little."

Sinclair noted her bemused expression, "I'm sorry Chief, but I don't see what can do that," she started, but he waved his hand at her.

"Detective Flack is going to bring over a few of your case files later and you can work the case, on one condition," he noticed the smile grace her lips.

"I knew there had to be a catch."

"Hopefully this one is not too onerous, you will remain under close protection for the time being and anytime you leave here you will be accompanied by Detective Flack. I understand the two of you are on civil terms and he's already rescued you a couple of times, so he's familiar with the attempts on your life, I'd rather not have to bring in anyone else. Can you accept those terms?" He asked, raising his glass of juice to his lips and swallowing about half the contents as he waited for her answer.

"Has Detective Flack agreed?"

"He will, I'll also see that the FBI reinstate you and you get your badge and gun back."

"and if I don't want to be reinstated? They do that and it puts me right back in their jurisdiction."

"I'll talk to a few people in Washington, I can play hardball when I need to. ... Now I have to get back to the office, but if there's anything you need, call me." He offered earnestly as he stood from the table. "Oh and I suggest for now you don't let detective Flack know who your father is, I don't want him distracted by thinking the department's watching him."

"He may be retired, but I know he still sees people, I understand."

.....

Flack walked back into the interrogation room, noting the dark skinned agent had taken a seat, he tossed a file onto the table and watched it skitter towards the other man.

"You want to tell me why you're really here?" Flack spat tersely, his voice containing an eerie calm, but to anyone who knew him the underlying anger was ready to spring at anyone who crossed him. "She's not your wife, you were never married."

Flack waited while the other man opened the file and flicked through the contents. "You've done your homework, but there's one thing that's missing, I worked deep undercover about 7 years ago, Karla too, we were married then under other names, we were both under scrutiny, but she was able to pass on the information I picked up. We may not exactly be together right now, but the marriage was legal and we've never been divorced."

Flack's stomach churned, there was still so much they didn't know about her and the deeper they got in the more complicated things got. He wished he could go see her first before the proverbial shit hit the fan, but that wasn't going to happen. He had been told in no uncertain terms what his role in this would be and the arrival of her so called husband had just blown out any idea of him being able to talk properly to her later. Not only that but she had lied about knowing the victim, Hawkes and Danny had found an ID and found her prints all over a photo of him found at the scene. He rested his hands on his hips to stop himself showing how frustrated he was.

"I want to know everything." He practically hissed, reigning in his desire to yell at the guy.

Morgan sighed, then holding Flack's stare he talked. "There isn't much more, after the case we went our own ways for a while, about a year ago she was assigned to the BAU and worked a few cases with us before being reassigned about 3 months ago. We'd seen each other around a bit, we have friends in common, and despite what people think Quantico ain't that big. ... I haven't seen or spoken to her since the BAU, until last night when a mutual friend arranged it. .... Karla's practically dropped out of everything for this case she's working, her friends are worried, particularly with the rumours we've picked up about someone from the FBI being a target, but if you've got Karla in protective custody then the rumours must be true. Detective Flack, my boss sent me to help, all I'm asking is to see her, to help figure out what is going on here. I know Karla, maybe she'll confide in me where she won't with anyone else."

It was Flack's turn to release a deep sigh, he hated what he was about to do, but some of what Morgan said had made sense. Could he risk blowing off additional help? He was fairly convinced the guy was on the level, so he had to take the chance, Karla had so far released little information about her case or her involvement at the nightclub and he needed answers now more than ever, if Morgan could help then they had to use him.

"Alright, I'll take you to her, but if she refuses to see you or talk to you, you're on the first flight out of here."

"It's all I'm asking for." Morgan assured him.


Hope everyone is having a good holiday weekend. Please review if you have time, I'd love to hear your comments.