Chapter 48: Drown

She spent the weekend wallowing in her apartment. Happy to be out of the hospital, thankful she was alive, perhaps even relieved that Navid Shirazi was dead so he couldn't harm anyone else.

That didn't stop her feelings of loneliness however, or keep her heart from aching. While she didn't know anything for sure, she knew from intimate knowledge what that look in Don's eyes meant when they set on Jessica course they were screwing, why wouldn't they be? Two attractive, hot blooded people with a lot in common, it made complete sense.

Gus attempted to sort out what part of the coupling was bothering her the most. She had left Flack, not the other way around. She had called off their brief engagement and had left New York. It didn't matter that she had come back from that awful summer in New Orleans knowing that New York was truly her home. Nor did it matter that she still loved Flack.

She was the one who had been working so hard to keep her feelings concealed, to ignore them, to put all her effort into them being just friends, rebuking his hesitant advances, transferring over to Special Vics to create distance between them.

After much introspection and more than a couple double neat bourbons, Gus finally was able to put her thumb on her biggest issues with the whole situation. Her first concern was Flack and Angell may not just be a temporary friends with benefits situation, though she was fervently hoping for that. Her second issue was that Flack had, for the second time, hooked up with his partner.

Gus feared this meant that people would figure this was just his thing, something pathological. Such a conclusion would belittle what she had with him, making it nothing more than habit. And that was something she just couldn't handle.

Gus had all crying out of her system by Sunday night, determined to not let her own stupid relationship mistakes ruin her career.

Monday morning, she put on her big girl panties and returned to the homicide pit with her head held high and her shoulders squared, or as much as she could in her still healing state.

She was there early enough that she was able to walk into Daddino's office without too many people there to give her grief or inquire about her health and well being.

"Detective Broussard, you've been missed," Daddino said, setting down the paper he was reading as she walked in.

Gus gave the man a small smile, "that's good to hear."

"Your medical report says you are clear for modified duty," he studied her carefully, "do you think you are?"

"I think I will be fine going through a bunch of boxes in the file room, Tony, if that's what you mean."

He looked unsure and also like he wanted to pry, but chose against it. Tony Daddino tried to stay as much out of the personal lives of his squad as he could, office rumors and gossip had no place in good detective work, and he wasn't about to feed it.

"We did move some things around while you were gone over to Special Vics and, ya know, recuperating. Your desk is by Parker's now, he also is on modified duty, messed his back up chasing after someone and slipping on some ice, so he'll be helping you out with the cold cases. I don't know who the hell is going to carry the files, but not my problem."

Gus couldn't help but laugh at the mental image of the rotund Parker chasing after anything that wasn't deep fried. "Should be interesting, but we'll make due, Loo."

"Good to have you back, Broussard, now if you could try to not get injured for a couple of months." With little fanfare, he reached into his top drawer and slid her badge and gun across the desk.

Gus greedily reached for it, holstering the weapon and palming her badge. It was good to be back.

Or it was until she stepped out into the pit and realized that her old desk had been taken over by none other than Detective Angell, nestled securely against Flack's desk in a perfectly matched pair. It appeared as though the woman was stepping into Gus' old life seamlessly in every way possible.

Gus' hand clutched at the pain in her rib-cage reflexively as she attempted to steel herself.

"Yo, Broussard, welcome back!" Thatcher said, coming up behind her.

He followed her gaze, lighting upon her old desk, looking back and seeing the blank look in the woman's normally fiery green eyes.

"You want me to grab you a coffee or need me to haul any boxes up from Siberia? Loo said you..." the man trailed off, waiting for her to take the bait, willing to have his head bitten off for even offering assistance.

Augusta Broussard was famous within the department for not asking for help, ever, and god help anyone who even tried.

Gus shook herself back to reality, she gave Thatcher what she hoped was at least the semblance of a genuine smile. "Sure, Will, that would be great about the boxes, how about I grab you a coffee, black and three sugars, right?"

Thatcher tried not to gape. She had called him by his first name, accepted his offer of help without ire and knew how he took his coffee. What the hell had happened to her in Special Vics?

"Yeah, that's right. Just give me the file numbers," he replied, shaking his head in shock. This wasn't right at all.

By the time Gus was back with coffee for her, Thatcher and Parker, the boxes were neatly stacked by her new desk, which Flack was now leaning against. Gus closed her eyes, hoping she was hallucinating, not sure how to deal with him, but knowing it was inevitable.

"Morning," she said, moving around him to set the tray of coffees down and shaking off the hot liquid that had run down her hands.

"Morning yourself. How long you been here?" Flack asked, looking down at her with a slight smirk.

"Long enough to get grilled by Daddino and lasso Thatcher into dragging up some boxes for me. Though he is getting coffee out of the deal." Gus gestured, realizing she had sloshed coffee down the front of her coat as well, "and make myself another trip to the dry cleaners, it seems."

"Same old same old, huh?" Flack said, handing her his handkerchief, which she waved off as she draped her coat over her chair.

Gus raised her eyebrows at him, biting back a sarcastic retort. "In some ways more than others," she said finally, pulling out the chair and sitting down carefully. "Grab me that box, will ya, I may as well get started."

Flack moved the top box from the floor to her desk, catching her eyes as he did so. They locked on his, clouding for a second. He reached out, about to tuck her hair behind her ear, something he had done countless times over the past few years, slightly stunned when she whipped her head around and tearing the lid off the file box.

Gus forced her feelings down, catching sight of Angell coming into the pit as Flack reached toward her. "Thanks, Flack," she mumbled, diving into the box in order to avoid him.

"Anytime," he said, shaking his head as he walked back to his desk.

The rest of the pit, including a limping and shuffling Parker filed in, many of the detectives stopping by Gus' new desk to welcome her back, including Lafferty who, much to Gus' great shock, seemed genuinely glad to have her back, dropping a plant on her desk.

"Maybe you ain't half bad for a head shrinker," he said, giving her a gentle punch on the arm.

"Er, thanks, Laff, I think," Gus, said, not sure what to make of his peace offering. He grumbled as he walked away, leaving Parker in a laughing fit.

"I think some people missed you, Princess," Parker said, going through another box of cold files.

"Not everyone," Gus said, making notes on her legal pad, flipping from one file to another on a 1998 homicide of a young boy in Morningside Heights.

Parker snorted, "yeah like who?" he asked as he reached into his desk drawer pulling out a bottle and shaking out a couple of pills into his meaty palm, "crap, getting old is hell."

Gus raised her head, her lips pursed and her eyes flashing as she gestured over her shoulder with her pen, it's cap chewed beyond recognition with her intense concentration.

"Flack? Princess, you have know idea how much he talked about you or how many times he checked up on you whiles you was under."

Gus kept her eyes locked on Parker, refusing to turn around as she heard Angell's musical laugh at something Flack said. "Not Don, Parker," she said through clenched teeth.

Parker followed her pen, studying Angell as she perched on Flack's desk, her back arched in laughter. "Oh, yeah, that."

"Yeah, that," Gus spat out, throwing her pen down in frustration. "I need more coffee."

Gus fought the urge to throw the pot of fetid coffee up against the wall of the homicide break room. She should have huffed it up to the lab, but she didn't have the energy to deal with everyone, even though she was sure Mac was waiting on her to stop by.

She slammed the pot back on the burner, dumping copious amounts of powder creamer in her cup and angrily attempting to get it to dissolve with her spoon. "frigging fake ass creamer," she growled at the lumps.

"As you might recall, we have half and half in Special Vics," a voice said from the doorway.

Gus' head shot up, recognizing Jimmy Doyle's deep Bronx accent. "Trying to woo me back already, Doyle, I've not even been back four hours."

"You're good, Broussard, what can I say?" he leaned against the door frame, running a hand through his sandy hair.

"So are you, Doyle, but not good enough. I am fine in homicide. I mean look at this," she gestured to her pantsuit, "I enjoy being fully clothed in December."

He crossed his arms over his chest, "fine, fine, homicide wins, but I do have some trial prep for you, you free for lunch?"

"You buying?" Gus quipped. Doyle nodded. "Free as a bird, in that case, let me just go get my coat."

Gus led the way back to the pit, stopping to check in with Parker, who was buried in the files overtaking both the desks.

Doyle reached for Gus' coat on the back of her chair, wordlessly helping her put it on. He noticed Flack staring intently at them, the other man's jaw clenching and unclenching as he leaned back in his chair.

Gus didn't notice, trying in vain to blot out the coffee stains marring the front of her coat.

Nor did she notice the pretty raven haired detective whose name escaped Doyle, Jennifer or Jessica he thought, take in Flack's glare and quickly attempt to draw his attention away toward her direction by leaning over the desks causing almost all the detectives in the pit to stare and start to salivate.

"Damn it, I really liked this coat!" Gus exclaimed exasperated, finally turning around and seeing the heads swiveled in Angell's direction, including Flack who was wiping a pen mark off of Jess' otherwise perfect face.

Parker and Doyle were the only men not taking in the other female detective's lithe form. Parker because he was focused on a case file and his doughnut, the one currently dripping jelly onto said case file and Doyle, because he was studying Gus.

Gus expression went from one of exasperation over her stained coat to something that Doyle knew all to well was heartbreak. Penny had caused that same look on his face time and time again, with the final blow being for Thanksgiving he got served with divorce papers instead of turkey. Just as he knew her current stoney expression was a meager attempt to not crumble.

Doyle moved in between Gus and the tableu occurring behind them. "Hey, Broussard, I know a great quickie cleaner, they'll have that coat as good as new by the time we are done with lunch, no worries."

Gus nodded, finally looking from Flack and Angell's display to Doyle's expression of concern. "Sure, thanks," she said absently. "Parker, you need anything or are you good with your jelly filled?" Parker mumbled an order for a turkey club through his mouthful, adding crumbs to the already smeared files. "Just freaking' great to be back," she sighed, following after Jimmy Doyle.

"There won't be any real movement until the New Year, but the more we have squared away now, the easier it will be then," Doyle explained.

Gus was trying desperately to take in all Jimmy Doyle was saying, as she moved a french fry back and forth on the pool of gravy on her plate, her appetite vastly diminished. Her head shot up when she caught his tentative question. "What?" she snapped.

"I'm not saying I think anything happened, Broussard, I'm just saying the defense attorneys will try to paint you as a Mata Hari and the prosecutors are going to play up your victim status, you have to be ready for that."

Gus squared off in the other side of the booth, meeting his hazel eyes with her own, now flashing the color of an angry sea and she slapped her palm on the table in anger. "Let me make this explicitly clear, Jimmy, despite Shirazi's amorous attempts, nothing happened between him and I. I know where that line is and it was not crossed, end of story."

Doyle laid his hand on top of hers, realizing how close she was to breaking. "I can't pretend to know what it was like in there, Gus but I would like to think I know you and I know you wouldn't have let anything happen. I have to put it out there because the attorneys will. I want to make sure you are strong enough for when they come at you, because they will. Everything in your life can become an opening for them, and you have to be ready for that. I'm not so sure you are."

Gus opened her mouth to argue, but before she could even make a sound, she realized he was right. She wasn't ready for her entire life to be an open book, she wasn't ready to rip open her wounds on the record; she wasn't even ready to face everything in the privacy of her own apartment, let alone in open court. She closed her eyes, attempting to swallow down tears, but failing.

Doyle removed his hand so she could bury her face in her palms. He moved silently around to the other side of the booth, glad he had picked a corner in a place that was quiet during the day. Despite her instincts to the contrary, she took the comfort and napkin he offered to her without protest.

Chapter 49: Rose on Fire

Gus paused in front of the precinct to give Doyle back his jacket, hers not being ready despite the promises of the elderly Asian woman at the Kwik Kleaners. "You gonna be alright?" he asked, folding the jacket over his crossed arms.

"Yeah, I'm tougher than I look," Gus said, pulling her hair back into a ponytail and making one final wipe at her face.

Doyle shook his head, she was stubborn to a fault. "Not my point, Broussard, but if you ever need to talk, you know how to reach me."

"Thanks, Doyle, and sorry I totally girled out on you back there." Gus chewed on her lip before opening the door and stepping into the bustle of the precinct.

"Seeing as you are a girl, I guess I can let it slide," Doyle said, pushing the button for the elevator.

Gus laughed, turning slightly before heading back to her desk in the pit. "Call me that again and I will hit you, Jimmy Doyle!"

He gave a small salute and smile before stepping onto the elevator.

Parker took this in with raised eyebrows. "Where's my sandwich?" he asked as she sat down.

"At the cleaners with my coat," Gus shot back, diving back into her files.

She ignored Parker's whining for a while before finally caving. "I will get you a sandwich from the machines in the lab, okay? I'm going to see if I can get some evidence run again in this Deshaun Myers case anyway. It might take me awhile because I am sure they are backed up and I am sure Mac is going to want to give me the third degree about being careful. You gonna starve before I get back?"

Her tone was clipped enough that Parker knew better than to push. He wasn't sure what happened over her lunch with Doyle, but he did know that it wasn't sunshine and roses.

Gus arrived at the lab, almost getting knocked over by an angry Stella, storming into the elevator. "What's up, Stella?" she asked, as the woman brushed passed her in a clear hurry.

"Your uncle is insufferable!" Stella snapped.

Gus was taken aback, she had caught up with Stella the least since her time in the hospital and release, but that didn't mean she cared for her any less. Not to mention that while she knew Mac and his second in command didn't always see eye to eye, she had never her the other woman say a bad thing about him.

Gus put her foot in the frame, preventing the elevator door from closing. "I have been aware of that for ages, but, Stella, what's going on?"

The elevator began buzzing in protest. Stella shot Gus a look. "What can I say, you've missed a lot. I've got to go, Angell has something for me."

Gus removed her foot, aware she wasn't going to get anything more out of Stella.

She knocked on Mac's open door since he was staring out the window deep in concentration. He turned slowly in his chair, looking tired until he took in Gus' form and then he managed a slight smile. "Welcome back, Gussie, how's it going?"

"Dusty," Gus replied with a smile, coming forward and taking a seat across his desk, realizing how low her energy was after her breakdown at lunch.

"Are you taking it easy?" he asked with concern.

"Are you?" she shot back, knowing the answer.

They both sighed, giving Gus a small laugh. "I've missed so much, Mac, it sucks, I feel like I've fallen down a rabbit hole or like after Katrina, where time stopped for me but not for anyone else."

Mac nodded, he had felt that way in the dark days after 9/11 and after his tours. "You'll catch up, just don't be hard on yourself, if that's possible."

"I'm working on it. Speaking of which, I don't suppose you will catch me up on what is going on with Stella, she stormed out of her madder than a wet hen!"

Mac raised his eyebrows at her colloquialism, but said nothing. Gus waited for a long moment before realizing Mac wasn't going to give her anything. Shaking off her sadness, she held up the evidence envelope Mac.

"Don't suppose the lab can run this again? No one has even looked at this case since 2000 and I don't think they re-ran the evidence. Poor kid, he was only eleven, files think it was gang related, but I'm not so sure. I know the lab is probably backed up, but I was thinking-"

Mac held his palm up to stop her. "If you can convince someone to run it, feel free. I don't think I should put in any requests on your behalf. Charges of nepotism is the last thing either of us needs, especially since you will be going to trial on your SVD case and we are still dealing with that missing flash drive mess, budget cuts and everything else."

Gus nodded, rising from her seat and walking toward the door to leave. "Yeah, I hear ya, fine, I'll see what rat I can get to push the lever. See you, Mac, and, um, maybe actually go home and sleep in your own bed tonight, instead of this hideously uncomfortable couch."

"Take care, Augusta and I am glad to see you back," he said dismissing her.

It didn't take much convincing to have Adam take the evidence envelopes from her, he seemed to be in a rush to avoid Danny, who was looking at the lab tech menacingly.

"Lord have mercy, what did he do now?" Gus said with a laugh.

"Tried to give me financial advice, this from a guy who spends most of his money on comic books and take out."

"As opposed to motorcycle parts and beer?" Gus teased.

"You wound me, Broussard. So what's it like being back?"

Gus leaned against the table, feeling slightly exhausted. "Weird. It's like when you come home after being away and while it feels really good, you can't help but feel like someone moved your stuff while you were gone."

Danny laughed, "that's because Montana did move all your stuff while you were gone."

"That isn't what I mean, Danny, I mean like when someone comes back after going to college or something, like it isn't really yours anymore but it is. Oh screw it, I don't know what I'm saying."

Danny threw an arm around her, "I know what you mean, BB, I was just giving you a hard time. Look, I'm doing some follow up on this weird ass berry case, but how about you and I catch a beer later and watch the Rangers game at Sully's?"

Gus gave her friend a hug, "that sounds great, but maybe a rain check, I think it's going to take me a couple of weeks to get back in the saddle."

"Anytime, Broussard, and as always you are more than welcome at the Messer Midnight Madness on Christmas Eve."

"I'm sure I'll be working, but thanks, Messer."

Lindsay came up to Danny after Gus headed back out. "How is she doing?" Lindsay asked, her eyes wide with concern.

"Not so hot, Linds, not so hot."

Chapter 50: Tomorrow Never Knows

Gus headed back down to the pit, Parker's sandwich in hand, shocked at how late it had gotten. "Sorry this is more like dinner."

"No problem, give me something to actually fill me up since Anne has been cooking nothing but steamed crap. Says we need to be on a health kick so I don't bust myself up worse."

Gus took in the empty doughnut box and two liter soda bottle on his desk. "I can't imagine why she would be doing that, Parker."

"Oh don't you start in on me too!"

Gus put the sandwich in front of him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "It's because she cares about you, Parker, don't mess that up, it is nice to have people give a shit about you, let you know you are irreplaceable."

"Jesus, what happened to you over there in SVD, have you gone all soft on us?" Parker looked at Gus with mock disdain, waiting until she settled back in with her files to whisper, "you do know you are irreplaceable, right, Princess?"

Gus gave him a somewhat sunny smile, "thanks, Parker."

"You do have a home, right, Detective Broussard?" a voice sounded over her shoulder, several hours later.

Gus made a few more notes on her pad before turning, seeing Doyle standing with her coat in its dry cleaning bag. "Did you seriously pick up my dry cleaning?"

Doyle shrugged as he handed her the bag, "felt bad, told you it would be done and it wasn't, first time Ming has ever let me down. Plus, it is snowing out."

"I think Ming might have a thing for you Doyle, she didn't let you down, thanks though."

"No problem. Say, you want to grab some dinner, try to work out some more on the trial prep?" Doyle looked at her earnestly.

Gus looked around at the mostly empty pit, wondering if Doyle had ulterior motives.

She caught sight of Flack who was flipping though a file cabinet close by. She could tell by his stature that he was eavesdropping. There eyes met, he must have seen something in her expression, walking up to them.

"You ready to go yet, sunshine or you burning the midnight oil?" Flack asked, giving Doyle a head nod.

"Erm," Gus waffled.

"Unless, you don't need a ride home anymore, it's just I was about to head out. Didn't think you would be pulling late nights being on mod duty." He looked from Gus to Jimmy, his eyes a slate blue.

Gus' heart won out as she debated, noticing Angell was still conspicuously absent. "No, I still need a ride. Sorry, Jimmy, another night, I promise. I just need my beauty sleep. Thanks again for the coat and for lunch." She laid a hand on his arm, filled with conflicting emotions. "I owe you."

He gave her a wistful grin, "anytime, Broussard, sixth floor, come find me." He returned Flack's nod and headed out of the precinct.

"You really offering me a ride home, Flack or just trying to rescue another damsel in distress?"

Flack gave a small snort. "I have never known you to play the damsel in distress, but thought maybe you needed a little help. I can give you a ride home though, I was really about to leave."

"Yeah, okay then, especially since it is apparently snowing."

"You can take the girl out of the, ouch!" Flack broke off as Gus punched his shoulder while putting on her coat.

Flack pulled up in front of her building, the engine still running, but a miraculous spot right in front. Gus took it as a sign and decided to take a leap. "You want to come up, I can throw something together for dinner."

Gus chewed the inside of her cheek as Flack debated the invitation, many emotions playing across his face. "Gus, I don't know if I should," he replied finally.

"I see," Gus said, reaching for the door handle, even though she didn't want to.

"Sunshine, wait," Flack reached for her.

Gus brushed him off, trying the door handle and angrily shaking it when she found it locked. "No, I get it, I messed up, I lost you. Plus, I am sure Angell is waiting for you somewhere."

"It's not that, it's-"

"Don't even try to tell me you haven't hooked up with her, Don, I am neither blind nor stupid!" Gus swung back to face him, tears glittering in her eyes for the second time that day.

His own eyes clouded as well. "Gus, I'm sorry, I don't know what else to say. You left and you made it pretty damn clear you wanted nothing to do with me, so yes, I am sort of seeing Jess, and you and I both know that I like to be a one girl kind of guy. I didn't know there was still a chance for us." He ran a hand over his face and into his hair, stopping to massage his neck.

Gus fought the urge to grab that arm and fold herself into him. "And if you had known?" she asked, the tears making hot tracks down her cheeks even as she angrily brushed them away.

"I guess we won't ever know that, will we?" Flack replied, his voice cracking as he unlocked the doors.

The sound seemed to echo in the car as did Gus' sigh. She closed her eyes as her hand closed around the handle. She swallowed, forcing herself to speak, even if she couldn't face him. "I may have run from you, Don, it doesn't mean I stopped loving you."

Gus didn't wait for a response, leaping out of the car and rushing into her building, thankful for the first time for the newly added night doorman opening the door for her.

Don Flack sat in the car for a long moment, debating the scene that had just unfolded. Everything he said to Gus was true, but he was pretty sure everything she said to him was also true and that complicated things. That was the way it had always been with them, complicated.

Which was why things with Jess were so refreshing, uncomplicated without being cheap. Plus, they weren't really permanent partners, so that made things professionally easier. He had taken enough of an ass lashing from Daddino after Gus left that he was pretty sure he would be partnered with useless male boots for the rest of his days as a detective.

He felt like he was at a crossroads, between the road he knew but was filled with brambles and the road unknown but seemed recently paved. He knew now matter what his choice, someone he cared about was going to get hurt. "Damn it, why couldn't you have told me sooner, Gussie!" he growled, peeling the car away from the curb.

"Evening, Miss Broussard," Eduardo said, tipping his hat at Gus as she attempted to hide her tears as she brushed past him.

"Night, Eduardo," she mumbled, jumping onto the waiting elevator, ready for the solace of her apartment and the bottom of a glass of bourbon.

Chapter 51: Son of an Engineer

Gus slunk into work the next morning, her head pounding as she had drank and cried herself to sleep the night before. Not one of her finer moments and she wasn't sure how to face Flack in the pit.

"You look like crap," Parker said as she rummaged through her desk for ibuprofen.

"Thanks, Parker, can always count on you to cheer me up," Gus growled, her scowl deepening as she saw Parker smiling at her. "What?" she snapped.

"Good to see the old you back, your pure sunshine routine was worrying me a little, Princess."

Gus dry swallowed the pills and made a face before replying. "Glad to oblige you, you want any coffee?"

"Only if it doesn't take you all day to get it," Parker teased.

"One sandwich, you could have gone out for one at anytime, we are one rung up from the rubber gun squad, Parker-" Gus cut off her rant, realizing Daddino had stepped out of his office and was waiting for their attention.

"Okay folks, here it is, the holiday schedule. It is what it is and I don't want to hear any bitching. If you can find someone to cover for you, do the paperwork and put it on my desk," Daddino stapled the schedule to the bulletin board before following up with, "hh, and your holiday gift from 1PP is that there is no triple pay for holidays this year, time and half like the olden days."

He slammed the door to his office shut as the entire homicide squad started complaining, all except Gus who didn't care about the money, much, and was probably the only person in the NYPD hoping she had been booked for every holiday.

She waited for the crowd around the schedule to die down before heading over to check out the schedule. She slumped back to her desk, sighing as she sat down.

"That bad, right there with you, kid," Parker said, sliding a box of croissants her way.

"Not like you think," Gus said, taking one and tearing off a chunk, "I'm still listed as my normal modified off-watch schedule, eight to five, Monday to Friday."

"Wanna trade?"

"Hell, yes, but I have to clear it with Daddino."

Parker was already pulling up the paperwork, "if you are serious, it would be nice to not have Anne pissed at me one Christmas. I'm on overnights week of Christmas and New Year's."

"What about your back?" Gus inquired, realizing she hadn't really asked him about it.

"It hurts like a mug, but medical said it wasn't that bad. Just can't lift anything or anyone heavy, keeping me here instead of out there. I have to say, I haven't minded it that much, and Anne likes knowing I am not getting shot at." Parker shrugged, his hands hunting and pecking on the keyboard.

Gus gave a small laugh as he squinted at the keyboard. "You are something else, Parker, let me handle the paperwork and Daddino and you can have my schedule for the next couple of weeks, okay?"

"You are an angel, Princess."

"Not quite, Parker," Gus sighed, her meaning deeper than Parker would ever guess.

It was Christmas Eve and Gus was pulling a double shift from 2pm until 6am so Montgomery could celebrate with his newly minted in-laws.

Daddino was less than pleased with her picking up extra shifts not being cleared for full duty, but Montgomery had been scheduled for the equivalent of desk sergeant so he couldn't deny them.

She was sitting at her desk, deep in piles and boxes, her biggest Christmas wish for a better indexing system and digital archive. She was light years away from a festive mood, despite the lights and tinsel and other cheer decorating the pit.

Christmas music was playing and an impromptu party was happening in Daddino's office in his absence. The Lieutenant finally cashing in his chips and taking a family Christmas ski vacation.

Gus worked hard to ignore it all, as well as the pair of desks behind her, where Flack and Angell were trading flirtatious barbs.

"You better get in there, Princess, before all the good cookies are gone," Parker said, his mouth covered in crumbs, hooking his thumb toward Daddino's office.

"I'm okay, trying to get through this box," Gus replied, barely even looking up.

"Come on, Broussard, where is your festive spirit?"

"In my other pants, now please remove your crumb laden self from my desk," Gus grumbled. When Parker did not comply, pawing through the piles she had neatly stacked, Gus gave up and went in search of coffee in the lab.

The lab was on a ghost crew. Danny and Lindsay were both gone, probably headed out to Mama Messer's feast of fishes and guilt. Hawkes had stopped by Gus' desk earlier before leaving for a cruise that Gus teased him about being the love boat, even Sid had left the duties of the ME's office to some poor plebeian in order to spend more time with his family.

Gus could practically hear the echo of shoes against the floor as she headed to the break room and their amazing coffee machine donated by some rich science nerd after the lab blew up.

Mac, of course, was there, as was Stella, the two of them in his office huddled over a tablet. The pair were so deep in their concentration they didn't even look up as Gus tapped on the window walking by.

Gus was fiddling with the buttons on the sleek machine, trying to figure out why it wouldn't turn on when Adam came in.

"Oh, hey, Gus, what are you doing up here? I mean, not that you can't be up here, but it's just you are back in homicide and I'm surprised they have you working the holidays and-"

"Merry Christmas, Adam," Gus replied with a genuine laugh. Adam had the innate ability in his constant state of energetic nervousness to lighten her mood. "Any clue why the beast isn't making coffee?"

Adam moved beside her, pushing a sequence of buttons and fiddling with the machine, a furrow forming across his brow as it didn't respond. He stepped back, arms cross across his chest, his curls flopping over his forehead, agitating him further as he pushed them back.

"It's fine, Adam, I can get some motor oil down in the homicide pit. I just needed a break from the Angell and Fl-" she broke off, realizing her candor.

Adam studied her as intently as he had just been studying the coffee machine. "You know."

The statement was said so softly, Gus wasn't sure she heard him correctly until she saw the expression in his eyes.

She nodded, swallowing. "Yeah. Does everyone?" Gus almost didn't want an answer, but she knew Adam would be gently honest.

He shook his head. "I don't think so, I just overheard Danny teasing Flack one day and Flack got all, well how he used to get about you so I put two and two together. I don't think they even know that I know." Adam took in the crestfallen expression on Gus' face and added, "I'm sorry, Gus."

Gus waved it off, not wanting sympathy from anyone. "It's fine, I can't change what I did or how he feels or well, anything really."

Adam shifted his weight from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation, but unsure of how to reply.

He hated seeing Gus in pain, but he couldn't figure out if it was because he hated seeing any of his friends in pain or if it was because he had been crushing on the pretty detective ever since she had returned from New Orleans but didn't feel he could compete with the great Don Flack.

"I'm still sorry, and if you ever want to talk about it..." he trailed off, flushing at her intense gaze.

"I'm done talking about it, what I want to do is forget about it and move on. And coffee, I definitely want coffee," she smacked the machine in frustration, wincing as the metal did not give.

Adam bit back a smile, his eyes suddenly lighting up. "Ask and you shall receive m'lady, I think I know why the beast is not working!"

He bolted, moving the trashcan out of the way and crawling behind a table. Seconds later the machine started whirring, grinding the beans Gus had requested as Adam emerged, punching out his fist in victory.

"Adam, you are the best!" She gave a little happy dance, giving Adam a quick hug and peck on the cheek.

He blushed crimson, stating "all I did was plug it in."

"Best Christmas gift ever," Gus replied, pulling the mug out and adding sugar. "Speaking of which did are you on Mac's naughty list, stuck here tonight?"

"No he is not, but you might be," Mac said from the doorway.

Gus almost dropped her mug and Adam jumped a foot in the air. "Hey Mac, Merry Christmas!"

Mac gave a closed lipped smile, shaking his head slightly. "You too, Gussie. You aren't working too hard, are you? Daddino told me about your shift requests."

"I can have nothing private, can I? I am fine, Uncle Mac, I promise. Now tell me how to get back on the nice list." She mopped up the coffee that sloshed over the side of the mug and onto Adam's sneakers.

Mac squared his shoulders before delivering the message. "I am not sure you can, Detective Parker just called me looking for you. Apparently Deputy Inspector Whitford is waiting for you at your desk. I suggest you don't keep her waiting."

Gus blanched. "What did I do now? I swear! I'll get right down. Be nice and let Stella go early, Uncle Mac it is Christmas Eve."

"We all volunteered to be here tonight and tomorrow, Augusta. Now please go see what Whitford wants before she comes up here looking for you." Mac raised his eyebrows at her, preventing further discussion.

Gus made a small noise of exasperation before heading back down to the pit.

"Adam, don't you have work to do?" he said, noticing Adam's eyes following Gus.

"On it, boss!" Adam replied, jumping to.