Chapter 17: Hole In My Heart

It was over a week before Gus made her way back to homicide. Over a week of sitting in court, hating feeling trapped by the halls of justice. Over a week of feeling cut off from the team and the real world. Over a week of Gus coming up with a thousand scenarios of Flack and the redhead. Over a week of rumors flying around the pit about Gus coming to the hockey game with Thatcher and leaving with a firebug.

Over a week of Flack sitting at his desk trying to not listen to the rumors and trying to make sense of them. Over a week of Flack finally discerning that Gus was not back with that cheating bastard Colin Murphy, but might be seeing one of his fellow engine boys. Over a week of unanswered calls in both directions, as life had managed to come between them yet once again. Over a week of silence between the two formerly intertwined partners. Over a week of calls from the very persistent Devon Maxford.

Over a week of Flack finding himself intrigued with the idea of seeing how the other half lived, especially since he had a willing tour guide, especially since Gus had made it clear that she was moving on. Over a week, may as well be a lifetime, Gus thought as Flack's phone went to voice mail once again.

Giving up, she dug a NYFD card from her bag and called up the station house.

"They finally sprung ya, huh?" Parker asked as Gus entered the pit the next day.

"Yeah, finally. Another bench in the courthouse with a permanent imprint of my ass on it," Gus said, sitting down across from Flack and noticing he hadn't looked up.

"I'm doing great, Flack, how about you?" Gus snipped after she took all she could of his silent treatment.

"Sorry, busy, working hot cases you know," Flack said, and then feeling guilty about acting like a jerk looked up at her, "how did the trial go?"

"Guilty on all counts," Gus said with a small smile, "what have you got?"

"A hit and run, revenge drug kill and everyone has been told to read up on the latest string of burglaries with the uptown set," Flack said, shoving some papers at her.

"Burglaries? Has anyone been hurt?" Gus said, taking the dossier.

"Nope, seems pretty harmless all and all, but some pretty powerful people have been hit, including Sinclair," Flack shrugged.

"Ah, so it is political, huh?" Gus said, recognition sparking in her eyes.

"You know the drill" he replied.

"You have been a pretty hard guy to get a hold of, blue eyes, what have you been up to?" Gus asked, trying to sort out everything she had to get done that day.

Flack looked at her for a long beat before she realized she had used a far too intimate term.

Blushing, Gus stammered, "I just mean, we have been playing phone tag and I know you hate to talk by voice mail and I-" Gus forced herself to shut up, partially because of the bemused look on Flack's face.

"Just, ya know, this and that. What about you, heard you hooked up with another firebug?" Flack hoped he sounded as casual as he wished he was.

Gus gave a small sniff, "I don't think the term hooked up is in any way applicable to my life. Though I can only imagine how reality may have gotten twisted with Thatcher as the messenger. But yeah, I met a firefighter, seems like a good guy, so I don't think you have to play Sherlock on this one. What about you, how is your girlfriend?"

Gus tossed the question out, despite not wanting to know anything at all about the redhead she had seen him with at the hockey game. In fact, Gus was perfectly content believing that the rink had swallowed the other woman and Flack had lost all memory of having met her.

"Girlfriend?" Flack responded, unsure he wanted to answer, because despite the blank expression on her face, he did not like what he was seeing in Gus' eyes, because it looked a lot like suffering.

"The redhead?" Gus pressed him, trying to focus her attentions on her desk.

"Oh Devon, yeah, well-" Flack started but was cut off by his phone. After doing more listening than talking, Flack gave Gus a long look, "I gotta go, got some info in my hit and run. But let's do something later, okay?"

Gus nodded why trying to decipher both 'something' and 'later' while trying to not wish ill will on this Devon girl she had never eve spoken to.

"Did you see the looks of the one that junior pulled?" "I don't know how he does it, it ain't natural." "No kidding' huh, musta made a deal with the devil." "Flack sure does have a taste for some high class broads. Though what someone like that is doing with one of us..." "Maybe we should go ask Broussard?"

Gus sucked in a long breath, she shouldn't have heard any of the conversation, shouldn't have even been in the locker room to hear the guys through the vent, but she had been replenishing the contents of her locker and now she was caught between anger and agony.

Storming out of the women's locker and slamming open the door to the men's with a slap of her open palm, Gus bellowed into the locker room, "Broussard is one of you, assholes, and legacy at that if you recall. And Flack pulls high class broads, because he doesn't talk about them all the damn time in the god damn locker room!" Gus backed out, letting the door slam shut to further accent her words.

She stormed out of the precinct, ignoring the questions and calls following her and barely made it home before she collapsed in a sobbing heap on the hardwood floor of her apartment.

Gus spent the next day patently ignoring both Flack and most of the guys in the pit. She holed up in the conference room with the most high profile of the cold cases, in addition to running back and forth to the lab for updated test results. She looked tormented enough to keep anyone from actually asking questions, except, of course for Lyons; but then again that was his job.

"Interesting outburst, Gus, but was it more about being one of the guys or being protective of Flack?"

"Both, in addition to feeling more than a bit territorial," Gus snapped to her psychiatrist.

"Despite the fact that other appropriate men have shown interest in you?"

"And that I was the one that left him? Believe me, I know it isn't fair. I know I should just move on, Flack is. But I can't help but feel like there is still something there, that we were meant to be, ya know? Oh forget it, I know it sounds irrational."

"Love often does" Lyons pointed out, "but what about working with him then, about getting back in the field?"

"I know I keep saying that I feel like I have unfinished business, but I do want to try up a few of the cold cases."

"And then?"

"Then I gotta pull up my big girl panties and deal with reality, even if it means I only get Flack on a professional level. I need to be back on the team to feel whole again. Teamwork makes the dream work, right?" Gus flashed Lyons a smile that appeared genuine, even if Gus was having to put a lot of effort into it.

"Have you thought about just asking him for another chance?" Lyons inquired gently.

Gus swallowed, tearing up. "I think I have used up more than my fair of chances."

"You won't know that unless you ask, Gus."

"Not there yet, Doc."

"You'll be waiting forever if you wait for the right time," Lyons warned as he signaled that their session was over.

Gus felt about pulling Flack aside a thousand times, of getting on her knees and begging him to give her a chance she didn't deserve. Gus almost called him a million times in the dark of night, just to tell him all the things that threatened to suffocate her when she tried to sleep. But she couldn't bring herself to do it; whether it was pride or fear, Gus wasn't sure.

She was sure that Flack seemed to have forgotten about having said 'let's do something and later', and she wasn't going to push.

The only problem was that the rest of the team appeared caught up in various pursuits and even her potential fireman was working a week on, week off rotation and was chained to the station house. The isolation was beginning to get to her.

Gus was outside the precinct, hours after she should have been home, unable to face the emptiness of her apartment. She barely registered Flack exiting beside her.

"Hey, I thought you had left forever ago" he said, in surprise, and noticed her eyes shimmering.

"Nope, should have, but I got stuck with one of my cases. Needed some fresh air," Gus sniffed, "What about you?"

Flack shrugged, "Was going to get some coffee, ya wanna come?" Gus nodded, afraid to speak.

They walked down to the diner, each careful to not stand too close or too far apart, a fact that made Gus' heart ache with each step.

"Heard ya busted into the locker room," Flack said after they were seated and a waitress brought them their coffees.

"Of course you did," Gus replied, absently stirring her drink.

"Thanks, I guess" Flack said, drumming his fingers on the table.

"It wasn't just about you," Gus retorted, feeling the acid rise in her throat.

"I know," Flack said, his voice steadier than his heart. Gus gave a little nod but didn't say anything. "You coming back to the field yet? I could really use you." Flack said after a few agonizing moments of silence.

Gus bit back all the flirtatious comments she wanted to say, deciding instead upon, "I want to. I gotta finish some of these high profile cold cases first. And Daddino will need my clearance from Lyons. I miss the field, I miss the team, I miss y-," she broke off, correcting, "I miss being part of something, ya know?"

Gus felt the lump in her throat, and bit back tears, not wanting to be this weak in front of Flack.

"Back at ya," Flack said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood, knowing full well Gus was trying desperately not to cry.

Frankly, he didn't think he could handle it if she did start crying, especially since Devon was supposed to be calling him as soon as she was done at the party she had gone to.

Gus rolled her eyes, "Yeah, well, I am pretty fabulous," she chuckled.

Flack felt his chest seize up and the words were out before he could stop them, "Ya are, ya know that right? Don't forget it, and don't let the firebug forget it either."

Gus suddenly felt like they were both slipping uncontrollably toward the center of a vortex, and she was desperate to stop them from falling.

"The firebug and I haven't even been out. Only thing worse than trying to get two cops' schedules to sink up is trying to get NYPD and NYFD schedules to in any way resemble each other" she gave a small smile and continued, "plus, did you know they can moonlight as bartenders? It is encouraged in some precincts, because they can help with crowd control, we are just forced to drink but not serve, huh?" Gus realized she was babbling, and sucked in a long breath to stop.

"Um, well, that's interesting," Flack replied, unsure of what to say, and more than slightly relieved when his phone rang.

"Flack, uh-huh, really, I'll meet you there. Soon. No, I won't use my lights and sirens."

Gus leaned back, trying to ignore the conversation, and trying even harder to ignore the look of lust she had seen wash over Flack's eyes.

As he clipped his phone back on his belt, he gave Gus an apologetic look, "Sorry, I gotta go-" he cut off, starting to blush.

"Have fun, Flack. I am sure Devon is a great girl. She certainly is a lucky one."

Flack gave Gus a quick peck on the cheek, may as well have been from a relative and headed out the door, before exiting he turned and said, "I want you back in the field, asap, sunshine."

As he disappeared into the night, Gus dropped her head to the table and mumbled, "funny, I just want you."

"Need a refill, sweetie?" the waitress asked.

"Sure, and a spoon to dig my heart out with," Gus said to the now confused waitress.

Chapter 18: Where Will You Go?

Gus wandered back to the precinct, figuring she may as well put all her pent up energy into her cases. And clean up her desk. She worked furiously, so much that no one bothered her.

She was able to get a lot of useful information from the night shift at the lab on old evidence, since not much was going on. Gus was shocked, and happy, to see that Mac wasn't still around given the late hour.

Plunging into a feat of organization, Gus worked the night away, radio calls keeping her company. It was a fairly quiet night, not surprising given it was the middle of the week and no major events were taking place.

She was deep in her notes when she heard the 10-31 come over the radio. Judging from the address, Gus mused that the uptown burglar's were at it again. "Hopefully it isn't another brass' place" she quipped heading back to her notes.

Gus stopped again when she heard the 10-80 call and couldn't believe someone was foolish enough to chase after the burglars, especially in a commandeered taxi. "He's going to have to answer to someone tomorrow," Gus said, and then looking at the clock, "today."

Gus worked for another couple of hours, lost in her thoughts in the conference room, until she realized the sun was rising and she should probably get showered up. Happy she had restocked her locker with enough belongings that she could spend a couple of weeks at the precinct, Gus emerged from the locker room looking nothing like a woman who had been up all night working on cold cases.

Which was a good thing, considering Gus nearly literally ran into brass on her way down for coffee.

"Good morning, Chief Sinclair" she greeted the man politely.

Sinclair studied her for a long moment, almost too long. Gus wasn't sure if he was leering at her or trying to place who the hell she was.

Sinclair looked the young woman over carefully, he had kept a close watch on her file since becoming Chief of Detectives. Hard not to, given her clearance rate, even though she took off for the summer, she had more than impressed her brass there.

"Detective, or Doctor, I never know what to call you, Broussard. You are here awfully early. But the early bird catches the worm," Sinclair, laughed, patting her on the back.

"Er, so they say, sir. And, uh detective is fine," Gus nodded at the man and went to part ways, but he stopped her.

"Walk with me a bit, please" he requested, motioning for Gus to follow.

She complied, curious as to what the man wanted, and hoping she hadn't somehow pissed him off.

"You know detective, you have one of the highest clearance rates in homicide. Something you continued even on your little...sabbatical... in New Orleans. I've been checking up on you. I wasn't aware you were legacy until recently," Sinclair continued to give Gus a smile that made her uneasy.

He continued, "I think you are being wasted working on cold cases."

Gus thought crap this guy was keeping close tabs on her, she laughed nervously, "Well, I don't plan to be doing that forever, sir."

"I should hope not. I just feel someone with your...talents could be better utilized. Have you thought about working with the public information department?"

Gus tried to not give away her true feelings, she hadn't gone to school for most of her life or clawed her way through homicide just to become another pretty PR face, "I am afraid it wouldn't be the right fit for me, sir." Gus realized they had walked to Sinclair's car and his driver was holding the door open.

"Take a ride with me" he said, motioning for Gus to slide in first. Not wanting to argue with one of the top dogs, she complied again. After settling himself Sinclair posed another question, "What about major case? We certainly could use more women there. Especially of your caliber. And with all this spy burglar nonsense going on," he stopped to take a sheaf of papers from his assistant in the front seat.

"It is bizarre to say the least. I heard about your house, I am sorry for your loss, I know it must be difficult," Gus looked at Sinclair gravely, knowing all too well the pain of loosing things that were important to you.

"That is what insurance is for, I suppose. Though it is the sentimental things that cannot be replaced," he looked up at her from the papers, "but I suppose you know all about that."

"Unfortunately. But Chief, I really do like working homicide. Though I understand if the department needs me elsewhere that is a condition of my employment," Gus was unsure of imparting this piece of wisdom on him, but she figured he knew all about her already.

He gave a small chuckle, "I am glad you like working homicides, because we are on the way to a scene now. Body found on Bond street. Believe it may be one of the burglars."

"Chief, I am not sure I am cleared for field duty," Gus pointed out.

"You are certainly cleared to observe" Sinclair said before switching gears."Your former partner sure is causing a stir."

"Sir?" Gus squeaked, wondering what was going on.

"High speed chases, even if after highly wanted suspects are frowned upon by the department. Fodder for the media, who is already having a field day with this one, suspects repelling down from Upper West Side penthouses. Practically a spy novel" Sinclair said, handing the New York Post over to Gus.

Sure enough the front page headline read "Bond versus Blue: Spy Squad Strikes Again." Gus skimmed the article determining that Flack had been the idiot from last night in the commandeered taxi, though she couldn't quite piece together how he happened upon the burglary.

The car came to a stop, the driver opening the doors for both of them to slide out. Gus followed Sinclair under the crime scene tape, taking in Hawkes and Mac processing a body in a tuxedo lying on the sidewalk.

She stood suppressing a snicker as Sinclair gave Flack a good dressing down about his high speed pursuit a few hours before. A small snort escaped as Sinclair walked off with Mac and Hawkes shot Flack a look.

Flack raised his eyebrows and became intent on his memo pad. Gus was about to make a comment when Hawkes spoke up, "They hit Sinclair's house and they hit you. Maybe they are targeting cops?"

Gus furrowed her forehead and then felt slapped by Flack's response. "Only problem with that is that it was my girlfriend's place"

Hawkes looked just as confused, sliding a quick look up to Gus before asking incredulously, "Girlfriend, how long has that been going on?"

"A couple of weeks," Flack answered, completely casually, avoiding looking at Gus.

Gus fought back gagging while the men exchanged a 'guy code' look. She kneeled next to the body to hide her growl and studied the victim while the boys joined Mac to look at skid marks on the pavement.

"Not everyday you find a scalped vic," Gus commented as the body was loaded into the ME's van.

"Nope sure don't," Hawkes replied, looking over at her curiously.

"Stop studying me, Sheldon, I am fine. I knew he was seeing someone. Even if I didn't know he was at the girlfriend stage," Gus said, trying to put her friend at ease.

"You knew?" Hawkes asked, not sure how to take the news; not sure how Gus was actually taking the news.

"I just want him to be happy, Sheldon" Gus said, stuffing her hands into her pockets.

"But-" Hawkes started, but Gus shot him a look. "Maybe we should catch up" he finished.

Gus nodded slowly, "That would be great, everyone has been preoccupied lately."

"Riding with the brass," Flack said, coming up behind them and clamping a hand on Gus' shoulder. Hawkes quickly disappeared. "Are you back in the field?" Flack asked, coming around to her side.

Gus shook her head, "No I just ran into him going for a coffee run, which I never did get," she sulked.

Flack looked at his watch, "shocked he was in so early. Shocked you were in so early," he dimpled down to her.

"I didn't leave," Gus sheepishly admitted.

"Last night? You stayed in the pit all night? You turning into Mac on me?" he looked taken aback.

"I was in the middle of things. Guess everyone was," she replied acridly, before turning on her heel and walking back toward where Sinclair was dealing with the media.

"Get a uniform to bring you back, I want you working with Taylor and the rest on this case," Sinclair ordered.

"I, er, fine" Gus said, knowing better than to argue.

Chapter 19: This Much Fun

"You need a ride?" Hawkes asked cautiously, having caught the exchanges Gus had had with both Flack and Sinclair.

"I guess so," Gus replied, her jaw working.

On the way back to the lab, Hawkes kept sneaking looks at Gus, her jaw still tight and her silence deafening. He felt torn between wanting to question and knowing to leave well enough alone.

This situation only further proved the reasoning behind any unwritten policies of avoiding fraternization in the department. However, that did not stop Hawkes from feeling for each of his friends.

"Thanks for not pushing me, Sheldon" Gus said in the elevator up to the lab.

"You know how to find me if you want to talk", Hawkes replied, giving her arm a slight squeeze.

Gus nodded, "Mind if I hang out with you while you run trace?"

"It isn't that exciting, but sure," he said, striding off to the lab. Gus watched as Hawkes processed the victim's clothing, picking up a variety of nearly invisible particles.

"Huh," Hawkes said, peering over a slide, "how were you in biology?" he asked, waving her over.

"Better than chemistry," Gus quipped, leaning over the microscope. "Butterfly scales?" Gus asked, after studying the slide for a moment.

"Of a variety of species. Moths as well," Hawkes said, placing another slide on the microscope for Gus to look at.

"Hey Hawkes, tell me you got something, because I have had no luck with an id on this John Doe. Prints didn't hit in AFIS and nothing yet from missing persons," Stella said coming in to the trace lab.

"Hey Gus," Stella said curiously, giving the younger woman a smile with a tad too much pity in it.

Gus repressed a growl, as Hawkes held up a slide to Stella. "Maybe these can tell us who he is," Hawkes said.

"Scales from a butterfly wing?" Stella questioned.

"There were at least twenty different species of scales on the vic's tux" Hawkes explained.

"Guy had a regular butterfly garden going on" Gus quipped.

Hawkes furrowed his brow for a moment, "But what's weird is, these species don't normally group together in nature."

Stella caught Gus' statement and her eyes, "maybe not in nature but they do at the Manhattan Conservatory."

"Bit overdressed for a nature walk, though, don't you think?" Gus observed, "unless there was a benefit."

"Can you check on that?" Stella asked, "and good work on trace, Hawkes" Stella said bustling out.

Gus had her answer quickly, "Hey Stel, there was most certainly some mucky muck benefit Museum last night, patron party was in the Conservatory. Event planners are cleaning up from it right now."

"Hopefully they can id the vic then" Stella said, hoping for a lead. Stopping mid-stride, she turned to look at Gus, worry creasing her forehead for a brief moment, "Are you good to come with Flack and I?"

Gus raised her eyebrows, "Sinclair says I am on the case, I am on the case. Would you argue with him?"

Stella shook her curls, "Not exactly what I meant," she replied, thinking back to the scene in Devon's apartment. Stella didn't know what to make of the young woman Flack had been with, or how serious the situation was between the two of them.

She was certain that Devon was not the type of woman she would have pegged Flack with even during his rabble rousing days with Danny. Stella was also pretty certain that Flack's cool bemusement over being invited to all the "in parties" would quickly turn to disdain.

She also was torn between two very different friendships in this whole affair between Gus and Flack. Stella was not sure where to put her her two cents in and where not to, a position that was very uncomfortable for a normally very outspoken woman.

"I am starting to feel like I need to make a team proclamation," Gus muttered and then looking Stella square in the face, "I have been assigned a case and I will do it, regardless of how I feel about certain extracurricular activities. The job comes first, Stella, always."

"Does it?" Stella asked, somewhat rhetorically.

"I'll get Flack, you get the car," Gus said, turning on her heel.

"Feel like getting back to nature?" Gus asked, perching on the edge of Flack's desk, determined to act like she was perfectly fine with recent events.

Flack looked up from his mountain of paperwork, a slightly curious look on his face, "Er, why and where?"

"Don't worry city boy. Just a little trip to the Conservatory to find out if we can id the vic," Gus bit back a chuckle.

"Stella didn't get anything from AFIS?"

Gus shook her head, "Nada. She's bringing the car around now." Gus patted Flack's pile of paperwork, "Quite a stack you got going."

Flack cleared his throat, "Yeah, I've fallen a bit behind. It was a lot easier when you were doing it all." Gus bit back any comments and slid wordlessly off his desk and out to where Stella was waiting.

"Some shin dig," Gus whistled taking in all the trucks lined up in the parking lot of the Conservatory.

"No kidding, this party planner is at every hot spot in town," Stella quipped and then under her breath so Gus didn't hear, "You might want to make friends, Flack" she dug in, noticing Flack stiffened at her comment.

They located the event planner quickly, in the middle of the chaos and Stella handed him the photo, "You know this guy?"

"Last night's benefit was A list only, he wasn't here," the well coiffed man replied distractedly talking into his ear piece, "check up at the Museum, maybe he is an employee."

"Mr. Rodriguez" Flack barked, already losing patience.

"Gay" the man snapped.

"Huh?"

"Rod-ri-gay, no z, it's Basque."

"Well if its Basque," Gus snarked, rolling her eyes as she stood behind Stella and Flack, observing the flurry of activity.

Flack bit back a laugh and turned his impatience toward Rodrique, "The man was wearing a tuxedo, I don't think he was an employee."

The man was obviously unconcerned with answering any of their questions, and more intent on answering his ringing phone, "Rodrique events. No, no, I said fifty cases of vodka and 100 cases of Gilmore 171" he then moved back to his ear piece, "Maude, where are you?"

Flack pointed, "She's over there" as the man turned, he ripped the ear piece out of his ear, "I got your attention now?"

Now it was Gus' turn to bite back laughter, as Stella stood, looking on with disdain.

"Yeah look. I know anyone who is anyone and this anyone did not attend the party last night," Rodrique dripped, handing Stella back the photograph.

"There is no way he could have just slipped in?" Stella pressed on, obviously unimpressed by the man.

"I provide security and guest screening."

"Oh course you do," Stella said with more than a hint of sarcasm.

Rodrique quickly turned on even more sarcasm of his own, "Look, I would love to chat, but I have to orchestrate the mayor's benefit tomorrow night, so Maude would you help them please?" He gestured to a pretty young woman who had come up to his side holding a clipboard. Flack handed Rodrique his card with a stern look.

Stella handed Maude the photo asking her if she knew the man. Gus raised her eyebrows at Maude's answer of "Sure, I don't know his name but he was a guest at the party. Towards the end of the night he did get into a fight with some guy."

"Were you close enough to hear what it was about?" Stella questioned.

"No, but Rodrique had to call security."

'The plot thickens' Gus mused to herself, as Stella waved the young woman off.

Flack couldn't help but smirk, "Seems Mr. Rodrique has short term memory issues" he said as soon as they had walked a bit away.

Stella smirked back, "Get a guest list and check out a security report. Gus, help with talking to the employees. Let's figure out why the guy who knows anyone who is anyone is lying."

"Well that was freaking useless. God forbid we take five minutes out of an employee's day to talk to us since napkins need to be folded into god damn swans", Gus grumbled as they headed back toward the precinct on foot, Stella having taken the car back to the lab.

Flack laughed, "And I thought this used to be your world."

Gus shot Flack a death glare. "Used to be, another in another life. Didn't mean I ever liked it, so feel free to have it."

Flack stopped for a nanosecond and then continued on, contemplating if he wanted to respond to her comment or not. "Just say it" she said, reading his conflict.

"I'm not sure I want it," Flack grumbled, striding ahead in such a way that Gus couldn't keep up the pace.

She was unsure if this was his way of cutting off the conversation, but realized he just couldn't look at her as he continued. "I think I got in over my head" Flack admitted, as Gus trotted to keep up, but still stayed slightly back.

"Welcome to the Uptown crowd," Gus sighed, blowing hair out of her face.

Flack stopped and turned to face her so abruptly that Gus ran into him. "Does it ever stop?" he asked, while steadying her.

"You ain't seen nothing yet, blue eyes," Gus quipped, avoiding looking into said eyes, while trying to avoid flushing at Flack's hand on her waist.

She shrugged out of his grasp and forged ahead, "You'll be fine, Flack, just keep your wits about you as you charm the pants off them," Gus called over her shoulder, as Flack stood on the sidewalk in contemplation.

"Is that my paperwork?" Flack asked a few of hours later after checking back in with the lab.
Gus nodded, busy filling out the forms, "Had to do something while waiting on missing persons."

"Why don't you try going home and getting sleep, considering you have been here since early yesterday morning," Flack pointed out.

"Not tired," Gus replied.

They sat in silence for a long while, each lost in paperwork until Flack leaned back, "It's really late, Gus," he said gesturing to the clock.

"Yeah, well, it is either work here or work at home and I would rather not lug all these files," Gus replied, "you can leave at any time though, I'm down with your stack."

Flack grabbed the stack of files back with watching as he flipped through them in amazement. "How do you do this?" he asked incredulously.

"Old hat, I keep telling you, and Donnie boy, you were quite behind. I am shocked Loo hasn't been on your ass," Gus smirked, finishing off another folder.

"He has been," Flack retorted, "now please tell me you are ready to come back to the field. I mean Sinclair's already putting you there."

"While I am sure everyone misses my fabulousness," Gus said while rolling her eyes, "I still need to be signed off on."

"Hurry it up, and go home!" Flack demanded.

"If I didn't know better, I would think you are trying to get rid of me" Gus said, gathering her things with a smile.

"You might want to head home yourself. See ya in the morning, Flack." Gus gave Flack a finger wave and disappeared from the pit.

Flack watched her retreat and yawned looking at the clock, it was after 3 am, well beyond quitting time even with an active case. He could have left hours ago, could have forced her away from his paperwork, but there was something about just sitting in easy silence with her for a few hours that he needed.