Chapter 5: Email From:detflacknypd

Gus attempted to dive into the mess that was the cold case and evidence trailer. She felt defeated before she had even touched the first box, a tower of them crumbling to the ground as soon as she passed by. She felt tragically alone, it was days before anyone else even entered the trailer from the Justice complex, and by then Gus had found herself in a state of tears and sweat more than once.

Billy tried his best to cheer her up when their paths crossed, but since he was running nightlife business, she had barely seen her dear friend. Buela always had coffee and breakfast ready for her and she was thankful for the elderly woman's companionship, even if she did think the woman was due a nice retirement.

Mac had sent her a brief email to let her know Don was safe and to not worry, but she didn't believe his promises to fill her in later. She read Lindsay's letter over and over attempting to be cheered, but Gus was already feeling the distance between her and New York. Not to mention she could only imagine what Don thought upon receiving her letter, considering how he had reacted when she told him she was leaving. He probably hadn't even read it.

Gus almost shot through the roof of the trailer when a beautiful, light-skinned creole woman entered.

"Sorry, baby, did I give you a fright? I usually don't find anyone back here. You must be that fancy detective from New York. I'm Chanda Howard, from the Police and Justice Foundation, otherwise known as the idiot who applied for this grant."

The woman closed the distance between them with a wide smile and a warm handshake. "Honey, you have got to be dying in that suit, you don't have to dress up back here, this mold will ruin your clothes in a hot second," she gestured down to her own denim and t-shirt.

Gus gave a hesitant smile back, "yeah, I learned that the hard way, but I wasn't really sure. I haven't been given a lot of direction. I'm Gus Broussard, by the way."

"Broussard? There many coon asses up in New York?" Chanda asked with a smirk.

Gus shook her head, "not really. I'm not from New York, I relocated there after Katrina and was the idiot who came up with a system for their cold cases. Who else could they convince to come back down to this swamp?"

"I feel ya, been thinking about moving to Houston myself, my mom'en'em are there now, seem to like it, but I have all this," she gestured around the trailer.

Gus spent the rest of the day being shown what Chanda had done, which wasn't much and had her first horrific visit down to the basement of Tulane and Broad. Something she had refused to do without a buddy, a decision that was supported when Chanda handed her a disposable painter's suit before they entered.

It tookGus using up most of the hot water before she felt clean after that visit. Gus was happy she wasn't a lab tech and didn't have to dumpster dive on a regular basis.

After a nighttime cocktail and a couple of chapter in a book she was reading, she debated heading to bed. Billy was on a date and probably not coming home that night. Suddenly her laptop pinged to inform her she had an unread email.

Gus almost didn't check it, she hadn't received much but junk since coming back to New Orleans, but she had wondered if Mac hadn't emailed her to let her know what all had happened with Don and the Eckhart case. She was glad she did though, when she saw who the email was from.

From: Don Flack, Jr. To: Augusta Broussard Subject: Hi

Gus,

I got your letter, apparently you've been sending them out to everyone, or something. I wasn't sure if I should write you back or not, but I couldn't sleep. I kind of messed up, big time. I might not even be typing this if it wasn't for Terrance. I know, I can see you wondering, a friggin' CI saved my ass? He did though, literally. It was your Uncle that saved it figuratively. After deservedly kicking it a little more first, though. I'm not going to go into it all here, but I finally took a long hard look at things and needless to say, I didn't like what was seeing. You were right, about a lot of things and I don't blame you for running away again, hell I wish I could. I was drowning and pulling you down with me. Maybe because you let me, maybe because the only time I had any peace was with you. Yeah, I guess I did love Jess, or at least cared about her a whole hell of a lot. But the mess with Cade, it just brought things to another level. I was thinking about that night on the roof, after Aiden died and you tried to tell me something about not being able to wash revenge blood off your hands. I should have listened to you then. I should have listened to you so many damn times and then maybe I wouldn't be in the mess I am now. I don't know if you know, but we solved the Eckhart case. Though I don't really know how much I helped solve it, considering how half-assed I have been at life lately. We had dinner together tonight, the team. It was weird not having you there. It wasn't just that I missed you, hell everyone misses you, but it was something more than that, I don't know, I can't explain it, I just wished you weren't so damn far away. Stella said something tonight about holding on to the ones we love, and it kinda hit me hard. I don't know what is going to happen with me or you or us, I wish to god I did. I do know that I used you and I hate myself for that, I also know you would have done anything for me and I love you for that. I just need time, like you do. We both got crap loads to figure out and get over, but I hope you know you aren't cursed, forget whatever voodoo they talk about down there in that swamp of yours. I want you happy, sunshine, I always have wanted that. I am rooting for you conquering those demons of yours and hope I do the same to my own. And for the record, I didn't make you a better person, you made me one. I know we need to talk, about a lot of things, at some point, you know where to find me and I'll try to avoid any ditches. Miss you, Don.

Gus read the email over and over again, trying to not analyze every word Don had typed and also fighting the urge to pick up the phone and call him. She had to be stronger than that, he said it himself, they both had crap loads of things to work through.

Gus also knew if she heard his voice and heard any pain in it, she would be on the first plane back to New York to try to take away that pain, LEEP be damned. She knew she should be happy he even bothered to write her after the way they had left things, but deep down, she had wanted him to say he loved her too, as much as she loved him, that he wanted to pick things back up, that he wanted her home. But he hadn't said that, even if he made it clear he missed her and hinted at deeper feelings. She still felt wounded by it though, more than she cared to admit, enough that she fell asleep to the sound of cicadas and her own soft crying.

Don shut his laptop angrily, flopping back on his bed, knowing sleep was going to elude him further. Why had he sent that damn email? More importantly, why hadn't he been more honest in it?

He had the prefect opportunity to tell Gus he still loved her, would always love her and he wanted, no needed, her back in New York, not down there in that god forsaken swamp. His talk with Mac had made a lot of things clear, things he had mostly known, but just wasn't willing to face yet.

Something about hitting rock bottom put things in perspective, as only almost getting beat to death while drunk on a New York City subway could do. Yes, he had been in love with Jess, but not in the same way he loved Gus. Being with Jess was easy, uncomplicated, fun; but it was also more lust based than what he had with Gus. He had never imagined the kind of things about Jess that he had with Gus.

How he imagined how Gus would look walking down a long church aisle toward him, placing his hands on her swollen stomach feeling their baby kick from within, if their kids would have her green eyes or his blue ones or if they would be as klutzy as her when he taught them how to throw a ball. He gave a wistful smile, these were thoughts that had kept him afloat, even after she had run away, even as he was hooking up with Jess, even after he shot Cade...Gus was his port in the storm, and he wanted to be hers as well. Hold on to the people you love while you can, that was what Stella had said at dinner just hoped he still could.

Chapter 6: Your Favorite Lab Rat, Adam

Gus tried to not wallow in the email from Don, though she was definitely more somber the next few days as she attempted to make order out of chaos of the cold cases and evidence in both the trailer and basement. The only bright spots in her life where catching up with Billy on a rare night off of his and a letter from Adam.

Dear Gus,

This seems really weird, I mean I am not really a letter writer, more of an email or text kind of guy, but I don't want you mad at me, so here it goes.

I hope things are alright down there in New Orleans, I get that you probably needed a break from everything up here, but I miss you. Does that make me a wimp? Don't tell anyone on the team, please? It is just different without you here. I don't really know what happened with Flack, other than his cell was some place it definitely shouldn't have been and Mac got super angry and Flack got really quiet, even for him, but things seem to be better now.

I don't know if you are writing him or if he is writing you or if you guys are taking a break, like a real break or what, but I think you should know that of all the people missing you, I think he is missing you the most. Maybe you could come home for Christmas? I will get my nose out of your business now.

We had this crazy case we just wrapped up, some crazy old guy with this booby-trapped penthouse and a mummy. More money than sense, huh?

Speaking of crazy, some FBI chick was in the lab today checking things out, apparently Haylen is going to work for them. Can you believe that? She's barely been in this lab and is practically no more than a crime scene clean-up tech, I just don't get it.

Danny keeps bugging me about it, he thinks I am upset about it because he thinks I had a crush on her, but it isn't that, at least I don't think it is that...I just can't believe they picked her over me or Jake. Not that I really want to move over to the FBI, but it would be nice to have the option.

Options would be nice to have, like my sister, I just found out that she and her husband are getting transferred to the Middle East for his job. Fine, so maybe that isn't the kind of option I would like to have, but still. It does mean I should probably stick around here though, because my dad can't move in with them and she says his Alzheimer's is getting worse, so he is probably going to have to go into a facility. I am going to stop talking about my problems now, though, I don't want you to worry about them like you do about everybody's problems. You really should stop that, you know.

Did you mean what you said about me coming to visit? I don't know if I will ever actually get to use any of my vacation time, but if I do, I've heard some good things about Jazz Fest, that happens before you come back here doesn't it? You are coming back here, aren't you? Sorry, no pressure, I know you need time to work through things and I hope you do. I gotta go, Mac is giving me that look, you know the one, so I should probably get back to work. I hope you aren't harassing the lab rats too badly down there to run your cold evidence. Assuming there are any lab rats down there.

Your Favorite Lab Rat (right?!),

Adam

Gus couldn't help but smile at Adam's sign-off, she could practically see him bouncing off the walls of the lab as he wrote it. She sighed, looking around at the moldy pouches of evidence surrounding her, she really could use him and his mad lab skills right about now.

After a long day of not much progress other than getting disgustingly dirty and frustrated at the lack of anyone other than her and Chanda working ocases cold cases, Gus curled up on the porch with a cocktail in one hand and her pad and pen in the other.

"If I didn't know you better, Augusta, I would say you look homesick," Billy teased, coming out to join her in the humid night.

"Lord, looks like it is going to be another Christmas in shorts at this rate," he said, fanning himself.

"There is supposed to be a cold snap coming in a week or so," Gus replied, setting her letter back to Adam in her lap, "not that y'all know what a real cold snap is," she said with a grin.

"As I said, homesick, you turning Yankee on me?" Billy teased.

Gus shook her head, taking a drink of her hurricane, "no, I am not, perish the thought. But I may be a little homesick." She winced at the look Billy gave her.

"Tibs, I have been living there for four years, I am allowed to settle in!"

"Funny thing is, you keep running back here, seems to me you are having trouble settling in anywhere. Speaking of which you haven't really told me everything about you and a certain blue-eyed hunk of a detective or this Jimmy Doyle." Billy looked at her pointedly.

"Not tonight, Billy, it's been a long day of trying to shovel crap," Gus replied, finishing her drink.

"How is it going, by the way?"

"For a joint effort by a bunch of agencies, it is like a ghost town. Guess I should have known better," Gus sighed.

"Probably," Billy said with a smile, "well, since you aren't going to give me any details about anything, I'll let you get back to your little letters, I have to freshen up for my date."

"Date? Billy, it is ten o'clock at night!" she admonished. He gave her a wicked grin, "so don't wait up, darling." Gus rolled her eyes, going back to her letter.

Adam,

Thanks for humoring me, it was nice to get a piece of, well, home. I wouldn't be mad at you and of course you can text or email or call or whatever, I just wanted to make sure y'all didn't forget me while I was gone.

I'm sorry to hear about Haylen, I think. You also are amazing enough to work for the Feds, though I don't know why you would want to. Not to mention I would miss you like crazy. I'm also sorry to hear about your dad, I know your relationship with him isn't the best and for good reason, but I also know you still care and take on too much responsibility for others (gee, that sounds familiar). Just know if you ever want to talk, I am always willing to listen. ALWAYS.

Things are alright down here, it is harder being away from New York than I thought it was going to be, I think I am finally realizing that it is really and truly my home and y'all are my family. I don't know why I can't get through my thick skull without causing so much drama to do so. Thanks for helping track Don down, I am glad y'all have his back when I can't. I have heard from him and I don't know what we are doing, but hasn't that been our story ever since I moved to the city? I do know we each needed time and space to work through some stuff, and hopefully we will both emerge relatively unscathed.

It is nice to hear I am missed, and I miss all y'all so very much, it hurts. Things are much worse in the whole cold case and evidence department than I could have ever imagined. I could so use the entire team down here and I still probably wouldn't be done by the time my six months is up. Don't worry though, the second that six months is up, I want to be back on a plane, fixing whatever Detective Prioleaux has done to my place. It is after Jazz Fest though, so please feel free to come and get your backfield in motion. And tell everyone they should come for Mardi Gras too, if anyone will ever actually leave the damn lab!

Can't wait to hear more about the crazy penthouse case, all I have to offer up is don't put cardboard boxes in flood prone basements and mold comes in many different colors. And, Adam, of course you are my favorite lab rat!

Miss Y'all, Gus

Chapter 7: Christmas Love from New York, Stella

Days turned into weeks and while a cold snap did descend upon New Orleans, Gus barely registered it after the cold winters she had endured in New York. The only change she made was to switch from shorts to jeans while sorting through the falling apart boxes in the trailer, thankful that it was no longer a complete oven in there.

She had made headway on a couple of the towers of boxes, Chanda proving to be a major help, not only immediately buying into the system Gus had come up with for the NYPD, but also getting some of the slackers from the other agencies to put in an appearance or two. This helped to get a lot of evidence salvaged and sent off to labs around the country, the lab in New Orleans still unable to even keep up with current cases.

Gus was only made aware that it was almost Christmas when a gigantic tree appeared in the living room of the Brook's home, its branches easily touching the sixteen foot ceiling.

"Good Lord, Billy, it is like a forest in here!" she exclaimed coming home to find him and a team decorating it. She was caught with a sense of wistfulness for her uncle, Mac always wanting the biggest tree he could cram into his apartment, a tradition held over from his childhood. Despite his gruff exterior, Mac Taylor loved decorating for Christmas.

"Don't be a Grinch, Augusta, grab some garland and help us," Billy said from his ladder. Gus made a face, which Billy caught. "There is nothing like Christmastime in New Orleans, not even New York. Caroling in Jackson Square, bonfires up and down the levees, Papa Noel, Revellion dinners, brandy milk punch..."

"Fine, Billy, let me just go change. Just tell me you gave proper notice before you evicted the family of squirrels that obviously lived in that tree," replied, rolling her eyes before bounding up the stairs.

Gus tried to get in the Christmas spirit, assisted by copious amounts of Buela's beloved brandy milk punch, but she kept feeling like she didn't belong, not at any of the many holiday parties Billy dragged her along to, not wandering around the French Quarter looking at garish decorations, not stuffing herself silly with fellow officers at Revellion lunches and dinners in between sorting endless stacks of boxes. She was going through all the motions of a wonderful New Orleans Christmas season, but she kept imagining herself tromping through the fresh Manhattan snow hand and hand with Don, drinking egg nog with the team, passing out gifts at the Rec Center...

Gus sighed, slipping the letter opener into the envelope from Stella, hoping the letter wouldn't make her even more homesick. She pulled out the pages of stationary, stooping to pick up what had fluttered to the floor from its folds. A smile spread across her face as she picked up the photograph, it quickly turning into laughter as she took in the team, sans Stella and Mac dressed as elves at a charity event.

Dear Gus,

Figured you might be missing Christmas in New York and thought you could use a laugh (photograph enclosed), I know it brought a smile to my face taking it! What you can't see in the photo is the giant tree Mac made me drag halfway across the city to the benefit. Of all the traditions for him to hold onto. He misses you, by the way, even though knowing Mac he won't tell you that. He isn't the only one.

It's been a crazy few weeks since you've been gone. I am certain someone told you about the penthouse case, but let me reiterate how not fun it is almost being sliced in half while working a case just because some crazy old man wanted to spend his money on tricking out his house.

There also have been the normal desperate crimes that always happen this time of year, keeping the lab busy, not to mention this hit and run life insurance case we just got done with. Love and money, that is what most of the cases we work comes down to, isn't it? The root of all evil.

This one involved a couple of broads pretending to rescue addicts off the streets, taking out huge life insurance policies on them, wooing them and then killing them to collect on the policies. They had been planning it for years before we caught this case, years, can you believe that?! I imagine you can, because sadly, I can, we see too much in this job sometimes I think. I don't want to be a killjoy though, not this time of year.

By the way, are you sure you can't come back here for Christmas? Don't tell him, but I did bust Mac looking up airline tickets for you the other day and there are plenty of couches that would be happy to host you, mine included!

I know you are probably busy, Adam was telling me what a horrible state the lab is down there, I can't even imagine. Was a nice reality check as to how great we have it? Maybe I could use up some of my weeks of vacation and come down to volunteer? If Mac will let me leave, that is.

Did Danny tell you that Lindsay is trying to stop him from saying 'boom'? Like that is going to happen, it would be easier to have him stop breathing. Apparently she is worried it will be Lucy's first word, not the worst thing ever, but I guess I sort of understand. Danny keeps muttering it whenever she is not around, which is humorous. My how times of changed, gone is the Danny Messer chasing girls all over the city. Lindsay roped her cowboy well, that is for sure. Times have changed for all of us though, I suppose, for good and bad.

Speaking of which, though I am not sure how much you do or don't want to know, Don seems to be doing better. I think his talk with Mac, or at least what I know about it, helped him to clarify some important points, and I really feel like he might actually be healing. I hope so. I hope you are as well.

I know you were trying so hard to fix Don, when it wasn't your responsibility or even possible for anyone to fix him other than him. I don't know what all went on between the two of you, from the last time you were in New Orleans actually, but I do know Don is pretty unbearable when you aren't around, even if he is in better spirits than he has been in a long time. Detective Prioleaux has taken more than his fair share of Flack's anger, poor guy is regretting ever agreeing to this little exchange.

I miss margarita night with you, not that Lindsay can make them much anymore either, it has been too long since I have been to the Blue Moon for some of Juan's tasty treats. Everything seems to be changing, I sort of feel like I am falling further and further behind the times, this is made worse every time I talk to Adam and can't understand half of what he is saying!

Enough feeling sorry for myself, take a good look at that photo, keep a copy of it for blackmail purposes as I am pretty sure the other copies have already been destroyed, Sheldon was using the laser for something earlier today...I do feel the elf ears were the perfect touch, don't you?

Regardless of where you may find yourself (hint hint) I do hope you have a very Merry Christmas. Love from New York,

Stella