Chapter 24: Joe Strummer
Flack arrived at Gus' building a short time later, thanks to his lax interpretation of traffic rules. He pushed the button for the super, cursing himself for not making an extra set of keys before he sent his back to Gus.
After getting buzzed in, Flack made his way up to her apartment. He knocked on her apartment door, feeling worried and apprehensive all at the same time.
Not hearing a response, his heart catching in his throat, he unholstered his gun and opened the unlocked door, quickly scanning the open room.
He took in the tray with coffees sitting on the table in front of the couch, it looked like she had had company.
Bristling slightly at that fact and also at the silence, Flack called out, "Gus?" He cocked his head down the hallway, realizing he heard something that sounded like muffled giggling and then, "In here."
Something was clearly not right here, Gus did not giggle. She laughed, chortled and even guffawed, but no giggling.
Her laughter was one of the things that had attracted him to her, full of life and timbre, and the opposite of the bird-like twitters so many women insisted on affecting. "Gus, are you okay?"
"Fine, I'm just a little tied up right now," Gus called from the direction of the bedroom.
Flack was torn between wanting to rush in and wondering what the hell was going on. "This better be good, sunshine, because my third date has now been interrupted twice," Flack said as he approached the bedroom door.
"Wouldn't that make it your fourth date, sugar?" Gus drawled with another giggle as Flack swung open the door.
Briefly registering her barely covered form clearly handcuffed to her headboard, Flack retorted playfully, "watch it, Gus, or I'll leave you linked up."
"Bet you'd like that," she shot back.
Quickly realizing something was desperately amiss, he slid his gun back into its holster and moved to her side. "You gonna tell me what's going on?" he asked, pulling out his cuff key.
"Just a little action from a lovely foreign guy. Though he seemed a lot lovelier before he left me like this," Gus replied, yanking at the cuffs.
Flack shook his head, moving in to unlock the handcuffs, trying to ignore his rising libido. He blamed it on being pent up and the history the two of them had; though he had to wonder if this had all been some ploy to get him over here, but that didn't seem like a game Gus would play...he trailed off and then fully took in her appearance, including her scraped knees.
"What happened to you?" he asked, gently touching the gash above her eye.
"I fell in the yard of the chapel by ground zero. I will delight you with the whole tale as soon as you undo these," Gus said, pulling again at the cuffs.
"Right, sorry," Flack said, leaning over her to unlock the cuffs, he heard a slight whimper escape Gus' lips and noticed she was biting her lip.
Flack fought hard to ignore it, unlatching the cuffs and watching as Gus rubbed at the welts that were clearly visible on her flesh.
Gus went to stand, wavered and slumped back to the bed, "sorry, just a bit dizzy. And thirsty."
"Wait here, I'll get you water," Flack walked to the kitchen, baffled, but not wanting to push.
"Here," he said, handing her the glass and studying her carefully as she drained it in one gulp.
"Can I get you some clothes?" he asked, trying to avert his eyes from her body.
"Fine, but can you make it not five million degrees in here?" Gus said, fanning herself.
Flack moved to pull out sweats without a second thought, other than the new furniture, everything else in her place was the same as the day he left it.
"Sunshine, it ain't hot in here, in fact it is kind of cool," he said, handing her the pile of clothes.
"Oh," she said taking it.
Flack looked at her for a long beat and then tipped her head back, taking in her dilated pupils. "Gus, I am only going to ask this once, and I want you to be honest no matter what. Are you on something?"
"I had a few drinks, but that's all," Gus said, realizing that this whole exchange had been punctuated by her giggles. And she didn't giggle.
"Uh-oh" she exclaimed, before pulling on the sweats.
"What?!" Flack said a little more demanding this time.
"Funny story there, blue eyes," Gus flopped back down on the bed and relayed the story of going out with the gang and her trip to ground zero and her fall in the graveyard and her jaunt to the bar ending with Dimitri and his disappearing act.
She felt eerily serene why explaining all this to Flack and also felt the overwhelming urge to lick him from head to toe, something that totally did not fit in with the circumstance and caused her brain to zero in on something earlier in the night.
"The last drink!" she exclaimed, propping herself up.
"What last drink?" Flack said, still feeling a little lost, but happy Gus was now hidden in oversized sweats.
"At the bar. He insisted I have one more drink and then kept me around for a while and I bet you anything it was spiked, which explains everything, including why my jaw hurts," she said working it.
"Explains everything?"
"MDMA," she murmured, then realizing she had been about to reach out and start stroking Flack's arm. She recoiled in partial horror.
"Ecstasy? He spiked your drink with X?" Flack jumped to his feet, "Who is this guy and how do I find him?"
"Flack, calm down, he owns a bar, I think, he will be easy enough to track down, but he didn't do anything anyway," Gus patted the bed next to her.
"Calm down? He slipped drugs into your drink and left you handcuffed to your bed and he knew you were a cop!" Flack protested, still standing.
"Which is probably why he did it" Gus mused, "do you know who is on tonight at the ME's office?"
"Some new guy, why?"
"Because I want someone to run a tox screen, but I don't want it to be all over the lab," Gus asked, realizing she had practically cooed it, but powerless to stop.
Flack did a double take but nodded, "Hold on, I'll call Sid."
Flack wandered out to the living room to make the call, thinking this night was certainly turning out far different than he expected.
"Sid's coming in. You might owe him your first born though, he said his wife was being exceptionally...amorous this evening," Flack came back in, grimacing as he spoke the words.
"Must be going around," Gus quipped.
Flack held out a hand and lifted Gus to her feet, making sure she wasn't going to fall back down again.
As they were headed to the door, Gus stopped and asked, "how did you get in?"
"Got buzzed in the super and your door was unlocked," Flack shrugged.
Gus nodded and then reaching for her keys, she recoiled as if a snake was on the table.
"What now, please tell me you aren't hallucinating!" Flack exclaimed.
Gus shook her head violently, "No, no, my gun, it was right there!" Gus said pointing at the table which held her badge and keys, but clearly no gun.
"Let me get this straight, you bring home a guy from a bar that has Vice and Major Case watching it all the time for prostitution, drugs and arms dealing; manage to get left handcuffed to your bed and he took your gun?" Flack looked beyond incredulous.
Gus bristled slightly, "Yeah, so?"
Flack snorted with his held back laughter, "Nothing, just could only happen to you, sunshine."
In the car on the way to the morgue, Gus leaned against the glass with her eyes closed. The window was cool, and she felt like she was burning up.
Flack had thoughtfully grabbed her another bottle of water, but she had already drained it. "I'm sorry I ruined your date, blue eyes" she murmured, not opening her eyes.
Flack looked at her carefully, unsure of how to answer. He decided to go with honesty. "It's okay, it wasn't going that great anyway. She insulted pretty much everywhere I wanted to go after insisting that I plan it so she could see how real cops and I quote 'lived and loved'."
"Too bad, you two would have made beautiful babies, even if she is a stuck up snob," Gus mumbled and then her eyes flew open in shock, "I didn't mean that. Well, I don't think I did," she back peddled, her brow furrowing.
Flack smirked slightly, "I'll let it go, on account of you being a little raver tonight."
Gus scrunched up her face, "thanks, I think."
"No problem, and yeah she is kinda stuck up. I think Stella wants to read me the riot act, but she seems distracted lately," Flack drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, "we are here by the way."
"Oh. Good" Gus said, fumbling for the door. "
Let me," Flack said with a half laugh, half exasperated growl.
"Augusta, my dear, I put you in a cab myself!" Sid exclaimed by way of greeting, shooting Flack a look.
"Don't look at me, I had nothin' to do with it. She decided on a nightcap at The National," Flack said, holding his palms up.
Sid had Gus slide up on one of the autopsy tables, the metal feeling heavenly against her skin. "Think someone slipped you a mickey, huh?" Sid said, taking her temperature.
"Not the way I normally do this" he quipped with an evil grin. Gus shuddered. "Your core temperature is pretty high, but nothing to worry about." He held her wrist, "heart rate increased." Looked into her eyes, "pupils fixed and dilated. Let's see what we are working with here," Sid pushed up her sleeve, snapped the tourniquet against her skin, expertly finding the vein to draw blood.
"Should I be worried about why you are so good at that on live people?" Gus joked.
Sid just smiled mischievously and said, "sit tight, I'll go run this upstairs myself, and be back as soon as the results are in," he mocked tipped his hat and disappeared.
Flack noticed Gus was shaking slightly, and working her jaw. "You want more water?" he asked, moving in beside her. She nodded, fighting off the tremor.
He came back after a long pause with another bottle of water and also presented her with a lollipop. "Stole this from Montgomery," he said, handing it to her with a grin.
"Thanks," she said taking it and unwrapping it with a look.
"I busted up more than a few tweaker kids back in my patrol days" he replied.
"I am not tweaking," Gus protested, though it was slightly garbled.
"Sure you aren't," Flack teased. Gus laid a playful punch into his arm. "Hey, I thought X was supposed to make you all calm and affectionate."
"Just imagine how much that would hurt on a normal basis then," Gus shot back.
They remained silent for a few moments, until Flack slid onto the autopsy table beside Gus. "Gus, what were you thinking?" he asked, turning toward her.
"I wasn't," she replied with a shrug. Flack didn't say anything, not believing her statement. "I was lonely," Gus said a couple of minutes later, not able to look up from her lap, "I feel like everyone has moved on without me."
"Nobody's done anything of the sort, sunshine" Flack said, wrapping his arm around her, feeling like he should comfort her.
They stayed that way until Sid appeared back down from the lab, studying the rest results in his hand.
Flack quickly slid from the table and moved a couple of feet away. Gus tried to not feel the sting of his actions and instead beamed at Sid, "So what's the news, am I gonna pull through, Doc?"
Sid didn't answer directly, instead launching into his own story. "You know this reminds me of one wild night back in the heyday of Studio 54. I doubt they would have even let a curmudgeon like me in, but luckily I was with this gorgeous, leggy Puerto Rican girl. Was she ever a looker..." Sid trailed off, lost in his own thoughts.
"Hey Hammerback, you done with your trip down memory lane?" Flack asked, bringing the ME back to the present.
"What? Oh yes. Your tox screen did come back with methylenedioxy-N-methylamphetamine, more commonly known as MDMA. As you probably know, it is is a semisynthetic psychedelic empathogen- entactogen of the phenethylamine family. It has greater stimulant effects and fewer visual effects then other common 'trip' producing psychedelics."
"Of course," Flack snarked, "what's it mean for little Miss Sunshine, over there though?"
"Well The short-term health risks of taking MDMA include hypertension, dehydration and hyperthermia. MDMA is considered neurotoxic, but the administration of an SSRI in rats prior to the administration of MDMA has been shown to completely block neurotoxicity. This is likely due to the binding of such medications with SERT. However, administering an SSRI prior to administration of MDMA also completely or partially blocks the desired effects of the latter. As a compromise it has been shown that administration of an SSRI 3-4 hours after MDMA, at which time the primary effects will have tapered off significantly, markedly limits neurotoxicity overall despite some axonal damage having already occurred."
"You catching this?" Flack asked Gus.
"Not really," Gus replied, feeling confused and foggy.
"It means, I think you'll be fine, but I am going to give you fluvoxamine maleate, to try to offset the drug and it will also help you with the rebound period. You still might feel depressed or anxious though."
"What else is new? Wait, you are giving me Prozac?" Gus yelped.
"Close to it. Why are you already taking an anti-depressant?" Sid looked at her quizzically.
"No, I am not" Gus replied, indignant.
"Well, you should be right as rain in about 24 hours. I would take tomorrow off though, just to be on the safe side."
"I already am," Gus replied.
"Well, good then. Try to do happy things, it will help" Sid smiled and patted her leg.
"Happy things?" Gus grumbled.
"I am sure you and Detective Flack can figure something out," Sid said, before recalling the conversation earlier that evening when it was revealed they were no longer a couple, "Or something. Now, if you don't mind, I need to get back home" Sid said, hastily grabbing his jacket and hat.
"Come on, Gus, I'll take you to the all night pharmacy and then home, don't want you picking up any more unsavory characters," Flack said, righting her as she slid off the table.
Gus rolled her eyes, "How long you gonna keep up the jokes?"
"Haven't decided yet."
"Great. Shit, what about my gun?"
"Already did the report, 's why it took me so long to get the water. Loo will see it first thing, and it has already been flagged in the system. He might want a little more detail though," Flack led her back out to the car.
"Thanks," she said, sheepishly, half falling into the seat.
"Hey, we're still partners" Flack said, trying to sound unaffected, and also trying to keep the flush from creeping into his face.
"Guess so" Gus replied, leaning back and closing her eyes again, while praying she didn't do anything stupid.
Chapter 25: Slow Down
Gus stood underneath the harsh florescent light, waiting for the pharmacist to count out the little happy pills Sid seemed to think would fix everything. "Better be some damn magical pills" she said to herself.
"Here," Flack said, sliding up beside her and shoving a package into her hands, "figured they might help."
"Thanks" Gus said with a wry grin as she took in the blow pops.
"Ya know-" Flack started, only to be cut off by the weary old pharmacist waving Gus over.
"Ya want me to come up?" Flack asked as he pulled in front of Gus' building.
Gus gave a small shrug, even though she desperately did not want to be left alone.
"If you wanna," she mumbled.
"I'd feel better" Flack replied, turning off the ignition.
They rode silently up on the elevator, on opposite sides, the air heavy with unspoken ministrations between them.
Gus let them in, waving Flack towards the couch, "Make yourself comfortable, I haven't moved anything since-" she broke off and rushed into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.
Flack stood dumbfounded in the middle of the living room, shook his head, and sat down on a couch that looked surprisingly like the one currently gracing the living/bed/dining room of his studio.
"Nice couch," Flack joked when Gus came out of the bedroom, clad in pajamas and pulling her hair up.
"Yeah, heard it was comfortable," she said somberly. Going for another bottle of water, she returned, handing one to Flack and looking slightly lost as she sat on the far end of the sofa.
They remained quiet as Flack flipped from infomercial to infomercial and the other dredges of very late night television.
As he finally settled on some old black and white movie, he punctured the silence with, "I won't bite."
"I know," Gus sighed, moving slightly closer to him, but still feeling the gulf between them.
"Drug pushing Russian arms dealer, really, Gus?" Flack asked a bit later, not able to take the weirdness between them another second.
"Pseudo-anorexic, status craving socialite, Don?" Gus volleyed back without missing a beat.
Flack's face broke into an easy grin, "we're both a mess, huh?"
"Pretty much," Gus agreed soberly, absentmindedly rubbing at the cuff burns on her wrists.
"Lemme see," Flack demanded, yanking on her arm, "those are gonna hurt like hell for a few days" he replied as Gus held out her wrists for him to inspect.
"Yeah, well I think I am going to have a hard time with the next perp I gotta cuff," she sighed.
"I'll make you a deal, you stop bringing creepy guys home, and I'll cuff the perps," Flack offered.
"You gonna stop dating vapid airheads then?" Gus bit acidly, and then suddenly clamped a hand over her mouth.
"I take it the drugs are wearing off then?" Flack dripped with a raised eyebrow.
Seeing the shock on her face and the flush of embarrassment in her cheeks, Flack broke into a dimpled grin and puller her to him, "Come 'ere" he said.
Gus gave in, leaning against him and enjoying the comfort of his familiarity.
Gus fell asleep against Flack. He debated staying that way, but decided it would be better to get her to her bed.
"Up you go, sunshine" he said, pulling her to her feet. He half walked, half carried Gus to her bedroom, carefully tucking her in. "There you go, Gus" he said, barely stopping himself from kissing her forehead.
"Thanks," she murmured, before her eyes fluttered open with panic. "Wait, you can't leave" she pleaded. "Stay, please!" she begged.
"Here?" Flack asked, looking around, suddenly unsure of himself and the whole situation, but still filled with concern.
"Please, Don," she half sobbed.
Flack sucked in a breath, reminded of the last time she had begged him to stay after her undercover assignment.
"Fine," he said, sticking out his lower lip in concentration, trying to figure out just what was the proper protocol for a situation like this, and then he noticed that Gus had fallen back asleep as soon as she was assured he was staying. Shaking his head, he climbed in beside her.
Flack awoke, unsure of where he was, and then looking down at Gus curled at his side, recalled the bizarre events of the night before.
Carefully, he slipped out of her bed and padded into the living room. Groaning as he registered the time, he realized he had only gotten four hours of sleep. But he decided to bite the bullet and call in to his Lieutenant, who had surely seen the incident report on his desk by now.
"Hey, Loo, it's Flack."
"Flack, is this your chicken scratch on this great report I just walked into, the one that Sinclair is going to have a fit about?"
"Uh yeah," Flack answered hesitantly.
"You planning on adding information on how Detective Broussard managed to have her weapon lifted?"
"You'll have to ask her about that, sir," Flack added.
"She alright?" the Lieutenant asked, his voice tinged with concern.
"She's been better," Flack answered truthfully.
Silence hung for a moment before Daddino cleared his throat, "take care of her Flack, and I will see you both in my office first thing tomorrow."
"Will do," Flack replied before hanging up.
Flack sighed as his eye caught the bookcases in the office. Gus hadn't been joking, she hadn't done anything since Flack moved out. The holes were still there from where he had removed his books and other belongings. It seemed that nothing had been touched since she returned, as if time had suspended itself.
He shook his head, not knowing what to do, but knowing he should at least catch another couple of hours of sleep.
He peaked into the bedroom, hoping that Gus was still asleep. She must have heard the door creak, because her eye fluttered open and she asked, "what time is it?"
"Early, go back to sleep" Flack said softly.
"M'kay" she sighed, turning back over, "thanks for staying, Flack" she sighed as she pulled the covers tightly around her.
"Not like I had anything better to do," Flack mumbled as he shut the door and headed out to the couch.
Chapter 26: Why Ya Wanna Do Me
Flack nudged Gus on the shoulder, trying to not slosh coffee out of its container, "psst, sunshine, come on, wake up," he muttered through the bakery bag clenched between his teeth.
Giving up, he set the coffees and bag down on the bedside table and sat down beside her, "hey, Gus, you still alive?" he asked, shaking her a little harder.
"Gungher," Gus groaned, slowly coming to and feeling more than a little disoriented.
"Huh, what? Why are you here?" she asked, rubbing at her eyes. Slowly, realization crept into her brain, the night before, seeing Flack with that other girl, the bar and the Russian, her apartment and her gun, calling Flack by mistake, the visit with Sid.
Flack watched as her eyes filled with horror and comprehension. "Crap, it wasn't a nightmare," Gus groaned, embarrassment flushing her cheeks.
"Not a sleeping one at least," Flack mused, handing her the cup and shaking the bag, "figured if any morning called for donuts, this one did, though it technically isn't morning anymore."
Gus took a long gulp of the coffee, not sure what to say to the man currently sitting bemusedly on her bed. "Thanks again, Don" she said, finally, more to her coffee than to him.
Shrugging, Flack replied, "no problem, sunshine, as I said, I didn't have anything better to do. Besides I figure you are gonna owe me after this one."
"No kidding," Gus sighed, reaching for a chocolate dipped, but pausing as it was halfway to her mouth, "but you did, I'm sorry I ruined your big date."
Gus wrinkled her face, dropping the donut back into the bag, unable to eat while visions of the petite socialite filled her head.
"Hey, now, what's this, I've never seen you reject a donut," Flack asked, concern filling his eyes.
"I'm such a screw up," Gus said, feeling the blood drain from her face.
"Nobody died, sunshine," Flack pointed out, tucking her hair behind her ear in a gesture so familiar that Gus felt tears well up in her eyes.
"What are you doing here, Don?" she asked, not sure she wanted him to answer.
Flack looked back at her, his throat tightening with emotion, he wasn't really sure what he was doing there, other than Gus called and she needed him, so he came, simple as that. "Because you needed me"," he answered finally, taking notice of the heat rising within him.
Gus quickly moved from the bed, heading toward the door, "you should go, Flack."
"Go?" Flack looked at her incredulous.
Gus nodded, afraid of speaking or moving or doing something stupid, "yeah, I'm good, thanks for everything."
"Like I said," Flack said moving towards her, "and I'm not so sure you are good."
"Neither am I," Gus mumbled.
"Then why am I leaving?"
"Because I am sure to do something stupid any second now and mess up what we got going here, whatever this may be," Gus admitted, heading towards the front door.
Flack's head was spinning as he tried to keep up with her riddles, "what are you talking about, Gus?"
Gus swallowed hard, digging her nails into her palms. "I'll see you tomorrow, Flack," she leaned in for a quick kiss on his cheek, wanting desperately to pull him into a long embrace.
"I don't think I should leave, sunshine", Flack said as Gus half pushed him into the hallway.
"I shouldn't have left either," she replied as she shut the door on him.
Flack shook his head as he walked away, trying to digest her words.
Gus spent the rest of the day moping, trying to get in touch with Dr. Lyons to no avail, and generally wallowing in depression and sadness.
"Made my bed, gotta lie in it, right?" she said to the empty apartment.
The next morning, Gus entered the pit feeling marginally better, after coming to the realization that she had been through much worse in her life and even though she felt like an idiot, no one had been seriously harmed in her little Russian adventure two nights before.
Flack tried to start a conversation with her as soon as she got to her desk, but luckily was called away to deal on one of his open cases.
Gus was not spared a visit from Mac, who appeared just as she was gulping down her coffee.
He stood before her desk giving her a stern look but remaining silent. She was thankful that Flack was across the room so he couldn't add to the glaring.
"I take it Daddino called you?" Gus ventured finally, just as Mac's eyebrow was starting to twitch.
Mac nodded and added "and Sid came to see me yesterday as well."
"Good to know there is such a thing as patient confidentiality around here," Gus grumbled.
"Sid is a ME, his patients are dead, you-" Mac started.
Gus held up a hand, "I know, I know, but it wasn't, look it was a bad situation that got out of control really quick, but everything is fine. Or is going to be fine, alright?"
Mac looked more than a little skeptical, but was interrupted by a bloody, naked man pushing through the doors into the pit, screaming, "I killed him."
Mac and the uniform to the other side of Gus immediately drew their weapons, Gus went to respond in kind before realizing her holster was conspicuously empty.
"Crap", she yelled as Mac pushed her behind him and went toward the body as Flack drew around the other side of the man, who had now collapsed on the floor.
"Chelsea University dorms," the man sputtered, blood gushing out of his mouth.
Gus watched in horror as the man lay bloody and seizing on the floor, but could hear nothing other than Flack saying, "It's 10:15" and could do nothing without a weapon.
She moved behind a support beam, watching as the man gripped Mac's jacket and whispered into his ear before collapsing on the floor.
Mac felt for his pulse and looked up, shaking his head.
"What the hell?" Daddino boomed from his doorway. "Taylor, you get this scene locked down and processed, Flack you take some uniforms and get over to the dorms, Broussard you get your ass in my office now!"
Gus slumped toward her Lieutenant's office, preparing for the ass chewing she knew she deserved, but not looking forward to it.
Daddino stormed in behind her after barking a few more commands and slammed the door shut behind him.
He towered over where she was sitting, slamming a file into his left hand. "This is not a good day, Broussard, not a good day at all. In fact it hasn't been that good a week. Thought brass would be happier with catching the uptown robbers, but not the case, too much commotion and bad press for their tastes. In part because of your taxi stealing partner. Not to mention my mother-in-law is in town and she is a bitch on wheels during the best of times, but she is an extra special brand of bitch since her surprise visit came right when we was tearing apart the guest bedroom and bathroom and our accommodations don't meet her exacting standards. Then I come to find out that a detective of mine who hasn't even had the ink dry on her field clearance papers yet gets slipped a mickey in her drink and looses her weapon to a Russian national with mob ties? And now my pit has been turned into a crime scene thanks to some naked nut job killer? I swear to god, yous are trying to push me into an early grave!" Daddino roared while rustling through his desk for a bottle of Pepto, taking a long drink.
Gus sat in her chair, trying to not look petulant and feeling more than a little ashamed of herself.
Daddino finally dropped his formidable frame into his desk chair and laid the folder down. "I swear to God, if you didn't have such a good clearance rate, I would turf you back to staff psych faster than you can say Freud."
"Actually, Freud was a psychoanalyst, sir-" Gus started and then stopped as Daddino gave her an evil glare.
"What were you thinking, Broussard?"
Gus sat formulating what to say until Daddino leaned forward, "Just spit it out, Broussard and stop trying to figure out how to make this mess sound not so damn bad."
"I was just going to clean up after I took a concrete dive and then..." Gus took a deep breath, "I just wanted to get laid," she admitted finally.
Daddino paused for a moment before breaking into a roar of laughter, "didn't think that would be a problem with you, Broussard. Ya know I got this nephew...nah, never mind you would scare the hell out of him."
Daddino looked puzzled for a moment, "How did Flack end up at your apartment and how did you end up loosing you weapon?"
"I sort of ended up cuffed to my bed and accidentally called Flack when trying to voice dial Mac."
This caused Daddino to break back into laughter, "only you! Though I have to say it was probably better for you to get Flack, I am not so sure how Taylor would have handled the situation...I am not sure how Sinclair is going to want to handle this, but for now I think you should just lie low for a couple of days and see if your weapon turns up." Daddino then waved Gus out of his office and just as her hand met the door handle he added, "and, Broussard?"
"Yes?" she said, hesitantly.
"Next time you want to get laid, head to the nearest ladder company and don't drink anything," Daddino said with a shake of his head.
Gus walked back to the pit to find Mac and Sheldon processing the scene and was thankful her desk was outside the tape so she could hide at it.
Just then Flack entered with a young man who appeared to be still damp from the shower to id the victim.
Gus tried to not eavesdrop but couldn't help but gape when Mac said, "He said he came from the future and doesn't kill you until tomorrow."
The young man stared dumbfounded through his glasses as Mac and Sheldon left to follow the evidence out of the precinct.
Flack dragged the young man past her desk, droplets of water flying everywhere. "Whadya do, pull him straight outta shower?" Parker asked.
Flack grimaced, "actually, yes." This caused the pit to break into snorts and stifled laughter. Flack shoved the man toward a uniform and turned to Gus, "you want to observe and see if Kevin here was also a passenger on the S.S. Fruitcake?"
"I'm supposed to be lying low."
"Hiding out in the observation room is lying pretty low in my book," Flack replied.
Gus nodded, and silently followed him, still feeling confused and embarrassed over her recent adventure.
They had to wait for a room to open up, Kevin getting more antsy as time passed. Gus went to get them all drinks and came back to find Mac had joined Flack in the room with Kevin.
"Drinking problem?" one the uniforms asked seeing the three cups in Gus' hand. Gus growled slightly, causing the uniform to wince before ducking into the observation room.
"Well he's not crazy," Flack observed after Mac had escorted Kevin out of the room.
"Nope just a physics nerd, a cute nerd..." Gus started and then cut off as Flack shot her a look.
"Some of that stuff still in your system, sunshine?" he said with a dimpled, "'cause I am glad I didn't bring you along to yank him out ta shower."
Gus yanked on her ponytail, unsure of how to respond, but was rescued by Mac coming back in.
"That kid knows more than he is letting on."
Both Flack and Gus nodded in agreement.
"But we can't move forward until we have more evidence. Hopefully, Sid will come up with something in autopsy." Mac made to leave, but paused before walking out, "we should talk later, Gus."
"Busted," Flack teased as soon as Mac was out of earshot.
"Shut up, Flack," Gus sighed.
Flack looked down at her, feeling a wave of pity and he wasn't sure what else wash over him. "Look, how about we grab some food after we solve this nut ball case and you have your talk with Mac?"
Gus looked unsure for a moment, but finally nodded, knowing that they were going to have to talk about what happened at some point. "Yeah, thanks, but I don't think I am going to be helping in solving this one, I think I am gonna be riding a desk until Sinclair says otherwise."
"You have fun with that," Flack said, squeezing her on the shoulder before walking out.
"You know I won't," Gus called after him.
"Detective, detective, detective," Sinclair annunciated the word carefully all three times while shaking his head. "Your personnel file is quite the interesting read," he continued, sliding the folder toward Gus.
"I like to keep things interesting?" Gus squeaked.
"Well, I don't, at least not anymore," Sinclair responded, staring her down.
Gus wondered what he was like back in his days as a detective himself, she could only imagine what his personnel file contained based on the rumors she had heard.
Gus nervously drummed her fingers on his desk until he laid one heavy hand on top of hers. "Sorry," she yelped.
"Detective Broussard, there comes a time in one's career where you have to take a long hard look at where you have been and where you want to go. It seems in the NYPD there are two types of people: those who want to advance and those that are happy to just stay where they are, to stagnate if you will. I, of course, chose to advance."
Gus tried to figure out where he was going with this.
"I am not sure what your plans are, but right now you seem to be in a third faction, the rogue faction, and I do not like this faction one bit."
Gus figured she was a hairsbreadth away from being fired and steeled herself to not respond while wondering just who the hell would hire her.
"But I do like talent and promise and you have both," he continued as Gus let out a big breath she didn't know she had been holding.
"Here's what I am thinking," Sinclair said, standing and linking his hands behind his back, "I am thinking you need to explore other options within the department until you decide what is the best fit for you and for us."
Gus' forehead knitted together in fear and concentration.
"I think it would be best for the time being that you become the liaison between Homicide and Public Information. I have already discussed it with the Deputy Commissioner, and he thinks it is an excellent idea, considering the press we have been generating lately."
"What will I be doing, exactly?" Gus asked quizzically.
"It means, Broussard, that you will be taking what happens in homicide and using your special psycho-babble speak to pretty it up for our PR people to feed the the newspapers. You also will be held personally responsible for any leaks to the press."
Gus gulped, this looked like a set-up for her to take the fall for the inevitable blabbermouths in the department.
Sinclair picked up his phone and buzzed his secretary, "send him in," was all he said.
Gus straighten from her slouching position in her chair as a suited man who appeared slightly older than her and could only be described as devastatingly pretty, entered and smiled charmingly at both of them, shaking Sinclair's hand with a firm grip and greeting, "Chief, good to see you."
"Paul Matthews, Office of the Mayor", the blond chiseled-jaw man introduced himself as he shook Gus' hand.
"I recognize you from press conferences," Gus said, trying to not be blinded by the man's unnaturally white teeth, near violet-gray eyes, and well-cut expensive suit.
"Guilty as charged," he said with a laugh. "When I heard I was going to be working with a homicide detective, I expected Sinclair to pair me with some overweight, hairy man that I would have to hide from the cameras. I have to say you are going to make my job much easier," Paul continued.
"Don't count on it," Sinclair said with a menacing laugh, "now that you two have met, could you go somewhere else, I have a meeting to run." He dismissed them by opening his office door and shooing them out and gesturing the waiting suits in.
"I don't suppose you like coffee?" Paul inquired.
"It isn't so much a like as a necessity," Gus replied.
Paul laughed again, and led Gus by placing his hand on the small of her back. She wasn't sure what to make of it, but didn't want to make waves within five minutes of meeting a guy from the mayor's office.
"I know this great cafe down the block that won't care if we take over half the tables," Paul said with a wink.
"Er, great," Gus replied following after him with an odd feeling in her stomach.