Chapter 52: Senseless

Gus arrived back down in the pit, Parker waiting on her at the elevator. "I don't know what the broad wants, she wouldn't tell me. I don't think you are in trouble, kid, but she sure is hot to trot to talk to you and seeing as it is Christmas Eve, I figured it had to be important. Look, I gotta go, Anne is waiting outside for me with the kids, but lemme know if you need anything."

Gus waved Parker off, wishing him well and headed out to see what the Deputy Inspector wanted. She caught sight of Angell heading out, and tried not to be happy that Flack was still seated at his desk.

"Deputy Inspector Whitford, so sorry to keep you waiting, I didn't know you would be stopping by," Gus said as she made her way to her desk and saw the woman standing somewhat awkwardly by her desk and the surrounding piles of boxes.

"Call me Gillian, please, Deputy Inspector is a ridiculous mouthful. Are these all case that have gone cold?" Gillian gestured at the stacks and piles.

Gus nodded, "Sadly, yes. But thanks to the advances in the lab, with a little digging and fresh eyes, many of them can become active again."

"Ah the advances of science, and tenacious young detectives, I am thankful for both. That tenacity is why I am here, in fact. I was hoping we could speak in private, Detective Broussard."

"Certainly, though I am supposed to be on desk duty for the pit, er, homicide squad, right now, ma'am." Gus shifted nervously, wondering what brass wanted with her now.

Hopefully not to put her back in Public Information or something horrible like that again. She thought she had been doing well, keeping her nose down in cold cases and mostly following everyone's orders. Sure her personal life was a sideshow, but her professional one was on track.

Flack, of course, proved to still be her knight in shining armor, coming over to the pair and offering to step in. "I've got it, Detective Broussard, I'm on third shift, switched with Lafferty."

"I am sure your mother loved that," Gus remarked, with a small smile.

"She'll get over it, just likes to complain, I'll see her later. Go on." Flack motioned with his chin towards Daddino's now empty office.

"This way then, Deputy...Gillian," Gus said, leading the way.

"You seem to have a good working relationship with the detectives here in homicide," Gillian remarked as they both sat in the chairs facing Daddino's desk.

Gus was put at ease by the fact that the other woman did not take the power seat she was entitled to, but almost choked on her commentary.

"Most of the time, I like to think so at least," Gus replied with a nervous laugh.

Gillian responded with a light laugh of her own, trying to put the younger woman's fears to rest. "I am certain you are wondering why I am here. I know you have been reassigned somewhat sporadically based on personnel and other issues."

Gus felt her muscles tighten, waiting to see where she was getting shuffled off to now. She was the first to admit she certainly had jumped around a lot in the department since coming here that fateful fall day in 2005, but that didn't mean she enjoyed it.

After narrowly escaping Shirazi, she was more than happy to stay among the cold cases, even if she did have a touch of cabin fever. Gus could only nod in reply, afraid to speak and make matters worse.

"But I've also looked at your file and based on your case closure rate when partnered with Detective Flack and your exchange with the NOPD, homicide is certainly your forte." Gillian crossed recrossed her legs, giving away her trepidation.

Gus also noticed how she was toying with the buttons on her jacket and wondered how comfortable Gillian was with her most recent appointment and the power that came with it. She immediately went into therapist mode, mirroring the woman's body language minus the fidgeting and remaining silent.

"I don't want to take you away from that, but knowing about your time with SVD as well as your academic background, I was wondering if you might be able to consult with me on something. I spoke with Lieutenant Doyle and he informed me you will remain on modified duty through the trial, and I think your preparation would dovetail nicely with the consultation I need."

Gus took this in, only able to make assumptions about what Gillian wanted her to consult on and slightly irked about the information Doyle had shared with the Deputy Inspector about Gus remaining on modified duty but had neglected to let her know. She tried to keep her face blank, "I see, how can I help you?"

"You probably don't know much about me, since you were undercover when I was appointed, so you don't know that I was following along with the Shirazi case long before you came on board with it. Lieutenant Fields and I have been friends for quite some time, both her and I gravely concerned with the increase in human trafficking and sex trade. The mayor knows of this...interest of mine and has sent a few letters my way regarding the disappearance of young girls, younger than even in the case you worked, 15, 16, some as young as 13."

"And missing persons or SVD isn't involved?" Gus asked, pressing the woman gently for more information in an attempt to figure out how she was supposed to be involved.

"These girls, well they have mostly been written off as runaways or are illegals who have fallen through the cracks, but they are still someone's daughters and they still matter, even if NYPD can't open a case officially."

"I agree with you, ma'am, I'm just not sure how I fit in," Gus leaned back in her chair, cocking her head in questioning.

"You have worked two undercover cases for SVD involving prostitution rings, you have a unique knowledge of the inner workings of these kind of operations not to mention the background and training to make suppositions on the mindset of the scum who prey on young girls and trade them like playing cards. I want to know what you know."

Gillian's expression was gravely serious and Gus could only guess that something personal was happening behind the scenes, but she knew better than to question someone who outranked her by leaps and bounds.

Gus crossed her arms, "you understand I can only tell you what I observed, and that everything else would be, as you said, supposition? I'm a detective with an advanced psych degree, not a psychic."

Gillian nodded, excepting what the other woman had to say, but also knowing she was a great resource. "I understand, Detective, but I do believe that knowledge is power, and I could use a dose of both. I will be setting up some meetings with you in the new year in between your trial preparations. Now if you will excuse me, I am expected to make an appearance at the Mayor's Christmas dinner. Thank you for your time."

The Deputy Inspector was gone before she could respond, leaving Gus to shake her head in Daddino's office.

"Do I even want to know what that was about?" Flack asked when she walked back to her desk.

Gus altered her route, coming to a stop next to Flack's desk. She might not be happy with him and Angell, but he was still a sympathetic ear and a good cop. "I am not entirely sure, but I blame GI Joe and I'm guessing it is going to be 2012 before I am back as an active homicide detective."

Flack stood up, looking at her quizzically. "Sunshine, I am not even going to pretend to know what you are talking about, but you look outta sorts. What's up?"

"I am apparently never going to be rid of this stupid Shirazi case. Not only has Doyle benched me until the freaking trial is over, but now Whitford wants me to be her personal soothsayer on the mind of sex traffickers, as if I have some great knowledge that no one else has, let me just look into my freaking crystal ball and tell you all you want to know." Gus mimed a fortune teller, causing Flack to lose it.

They both got caught up in laughter until their eyes met and a spark caught between them. They both stepped back, knowing they were treading on thin ice, Gus quickly moving backwards to her desk, yelping as she ran into a pile of boxes.

Chapter 53: Mercyland

As if he had heard his name six stories above, Jimmy Doyle appeared in the homicide pit, as Gus was trying to sort through the mess created with the pile of tipped over boxes.

"Damn it, I had just finished sorting those!" she exclaimed, frustration overtaking her. "Having a Merry Christmas, huh, Broussard?" Doyle asked, stepping over an upended box.

"No I am not, Lieutenant and it looks like I won't be having a happy New Year, Mardi Gras or Easter thanks to you either!" Gus squared off with the thoroughly confused Doyle.

Flack decided this was a great time to go grab a snack, leaving Doyle to Gus' wrath. The few detectives left in the pit, busied themselves immediately, knowing better than to get between the pair now facing off.

"What are you talking about, Broussard?" Doyle seemed genuinely perplexed.

"I mean getting Brass to put me on poor and helpless duty until your stupid trial is over. I can manage to testify and still be a good cop, you know! The doctors did clear me enough to get both my gun and shield back, so why is it you seem to think I need to be humping a desk for the rest of eternity?"

The flare up cost Gus most of her energy much to her chagrin.

Doyle could see her flagging, but didn't push. "You done?" he said finally as she stood, hands on hips, panting slightly. She nodded. "You want to grab some dinner and actually discuss this?"

"Can't, desk sarge duty," she huffed out, moving a stack of files back to their box.

"How about I go across to Ruby's grab us a couple of burgers and come back here and help you with these." There was no question in his tone, but there was sympathy in his eyes.

"Fine," Gus knew better than to keep ranting, "but no mustard on mine." "And thanks, Jimmy," she added after a long pause.

Thankfully no randoms came into the pit and nearly everyone else, including Flack were either called out to a case or off shift by the time Jimmy Doyle returned with two greasy sacks full of food.

"Put those on Parker's desk, he won't notice any more grease," Gus said, dropping an arm full of files on to her desk.

They sat at Parker's desk, tucking into the greasy hamburgers with gusto. "Port of Call, these ain't, but this is pretty good for New York."

Jimmy couldn't hide his amusement. "You do know people come from all over the world just to visit New York, right Gus?"

"Don't get me wrong, I love New York, but food wise, New Orleans has you beat, hands down."

"I'll take your word for it." Doyle seemed more than a little skeptical but Gus didn't have the energy for another argument.

"Poor and helpless duty?" Doyle asked as they both finished their burgers.

Gus wiped her mouth, tossing the napkin in the almost overflowing can beside Parker's desk. "I'm sorry, I was out of line, seeing as you are technically my superior officer and all. It's just-" she searched for the best word, "frustrating."

She moved back to her side of the desks, putting space between them and trying to remain calm. If she was completely honest, she knew she wasn't ready to be back in the field, but she didn't like anyone else knowing her weakness.

Doyle leaned back in Parker's chair, interlacing his hands behind his head, looking completely relaxed. "Look, I know you are a good cop, and I know it's got to be frustrating not being able to do what you are good at, but I am pretty sure you aren't at 100% and I was trying to help you out. I was not trying to keep you, 'humping a desk for the rest of eternity'. Sorry to keep you from predawn calls in the freezing rain or knocking on doors in the middle of the night. Can't find anything better to do with your time, Broussard?"

Gus leaned to look at the clock hanging on the wall. "Asks the man hanging out in the homicide pit at midnight on Christmas."

"Better than an empty apartment."

Gus felt a twinge in his bitter tone. "Sorry, I didn't mean-"

Doyle waved her off, "no, it's fine, I better get used to it."

"You sure it is over?" Gus looked at him earnestly, her mind flitting to her conversation with Flack in the car the other night and wishing better for Doyle.

He nodded, "divorce decree all but signed, sealed and delivered. She moved out to that artist commune, took up with some shirtless sculptor named Ramon and insists upon being called The Lady Penelope. Thank god we didn't have kids."

Gus made a face, "makes my situation seem not so bad, I think."

"How is that going?" Doyle asked, his eyebrows raised, jutting his chin in the direction of Flack and Angell's desks. He knew enough of the story between their endless stakeouts and precinct rumors.

"Going? It's done gone. He moved on, what did I expect? I just wish it could have been someone outside the frigging department."

"If it gets too much for you, there's always a spot for you in SVD as long as I am in charge." Gus cocked her head at him, "did I miss something with Fields?"

Doyle couldn't help but smile, "my one Christmas gift, Fields is moving over to DCPI, says she too old to deal with teenagers, a new baby and herding cats. CoD made it official two days ago."

"Congratulations, Doyle, I owe you a drink as soon as we are both off the clock."

"I will take you up on that. I suppose I should check in on my second shift team, seeing as I am supposed to be cracking the whip and all that."

"See you around, Jimmy, and Merry Christmas."

Chapter 54: Out of my way back to you

Gus made it through Christmas and New Year's, earning bonus points with her co-workers for picking up shifts. The holidays were a haze of work and sleep, as she had no energy left over for anything else.

She barely even noticed that they were a couple of weeks in to the new year except for the fact that her schedule had gone back to modified duty and Doyle and the DA kept interrupting her for trial prep.

She finally escaped their repeated questioning by hiding in the cold case evidence locker, finding it easier to go through the boxes down there over getting someone to haul them up.

Parker was doing all the follow up work in the field on their cases along with a beat cop who had his heart set on a detective shield.

Gus often felt like she was nothing more than a file jockey, but at least she had created a system that helped to streamline what seemed like insurmountable 9,000+ unsolved cases.

Her sanctuary was invaded one afternoon by none other than Don Flack.

"You got that, sunshine?" he asked as she attempted to maneuver a box from a high shelf.

Gus jumped, sending the box crashing to the floor.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," Flack said, rushing over to assist.

"It's fine, didn't hear anyone else come, usually just me and the boxes down here," she nervously pulled at her ponytail, unsure how to act around him.

"Was beginning to forget what you looked like. Parker also may have covered your desk in candy bar wrappers and bakery boxes."

Gus gave a small laugh, "sounds about right. What brings you down here?"

"Was looking for this box," Flack gestured to a string of letters and numbers on a scrap of paper, "but I can't seem to find a damn thing down here and since there isn't a clerk anymore..." he trailed off.

She reached out for the scrap of paper, "VS, huh, you transfer to Doyle's team without telling me?" Gus moved quickly out of the unsolved homicide section and over to special vic's. She scanned the boxes with quick precision. "Here you go VS2001-GPR1512," she tapped the box.

Flack looked at her in amazement, "how did you do that?" He pulled down the box, heading toward one of the long tables set up in the room with Gus following along.

Gus shrugged, "I'm good and as you pointed out, I've spent a lot of time down here. Now you going to tell me what you are doing with a SVD case?"

"Caught a body think it might be connected to the Gramercy Park rapist."

Gus stopped short, "the where rapist?" Her eyes grew wide.

Flack put the box on the table top, signing the sheet on its lid. "Don't freak out on me, Broussard. It was before you ever moved here, couple of years starting in 1999. Some creep preyed on women he followed home from the subway. Seeing as you have a fancy doorman now and you don't take the subway much, I don't think you have anything to worry about." He barely even looked at her as he flipped through the box, pulling out the file log.

"Well in that case, I'll just jog home naked!" Gus yelped.

Flack looked up, completely calm, a smirk playing on his face, "you know you can take cabs again, right?"

Gus made a strangled noise before moving over to the box. "What are you hoping to find now?"

Flack shrugged, "I don't know, I wasn't the one who made the connection, Mac said something about bruising and to get the box, so here I am. Looks like there was a tip line set up back then."

Gus flipped through the box finding the corresponding file, "yep, right here," she held up the file, surprised at how thin it was.

Usually tip lines made all the wackos come out, but since no one had been killed until now…Gus stopped short as she flipped through the tip line reports. "Uh, Flack, I think you should see this."

Flack took in the worried expression on Gus' face. "What's up?"

"No big shock, most of the calls are anonymous, but someone was really persistent in catching this guy. Called a bunch of times and always left his name."

"So?"

"His name was Dr. Sheldon Hawkes..." Gus passed the file to him, pointing out the calls in the log.

"Crap, I gotta get this to Mac." Flack sighed, flipping the file shut.

"No, wait, maybe you can check with Sheldon first, see what it is all about..."

Flack shook his head, "that isn't the way it works Gus, and you know it. I've got to go to Mac first and he'll deal with Hawkes." He packed the box back up hastily.

"Fine, but let me know what happens, will you?" Gus looked at him for a long moment. "I miss the team, Don," she said finally, her voice cracking slightly.

"You're the one hiding down here, Gus," he said with a slight shake of his head before replacing the lid the box and carrying it off toward the elevators.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you, Shel," Gus said, pouring more wine for them both in her apartment a few days later. At least the rapist, had been apprehended, but Gus knew that did little to assuage her friend's guilt and concern.

"At least justice has been done, Colin Clark is locked up as he should be," Sheldon replied, lifting his glass to hers with a clink.

"Too little too late though. Have you spoken to Kara at all, other than telling her to come in and talk to Stella?" Gus asked, raising her eyebrows over her wine glass.

Sheldon shook his head, "no, I haven't, I just can't."

His tone held such finality, that Gus didn't press the issue, despite her wanting to.

She leaned back on the sofa, sipping her wine, enjoying having someone from the team back over at her place. "Wish someone would have told me about a rapist before I bought this place, though," she sighed.

"It was before you even moved here, and this is a great place. How else could you have this much space on a cop's salary in Manhattan?"

"Because, dear Doctor Hawkes, if you may recall, I was a psychologist when I bought it, it was a pit, and I had a great chunk of carbon and insurance money to put down on it," Gus surveyed the room and lifted her wine glass to it.

"So just how many times have you been engaged now?" Sheldon teased.

Gus shot him a look, "technically twice, purposed to three times, but if you ask me, only one of them really counts, but I still don't seem to have a ring on it." She blew her hair out of her eyes, leaning forward, cupping her chin in her hand.

"And whose fault is that?" Sheldon pressed on.

"Seriously? Are you seriously pressing me on this, Shelly, what, eight months later?" Gus set her wine glass down, facing down her friend.

Sheldon raised his eyebrows back at her. "I think no one has gotten the real story, figured I would ask." "

As Uncle Mac says, follow the evidence," Gus retorted, wrinkling her nose.

"I am pretty sure two certain homicide detectives didn't leave much behind." Sheldon refused to let go, feeling like this was the first time in months that Gus wasn't too fragile to answer the questions everyone had been quietly asking.

"You aren't going to let this go, are you?" His silence was her answer.

"Yes, we were happily living together and Don proposed and I accepted, but instead of happily ever after, the lab blew up. I took that as a sign that I am bad luck, so I ran back to New Orleans where I clocked a million hours trying to solve homicides while drunk off my ass every second I was off the clock until I realized I wasn't any happier there so I can back here only to feel like an outsider. Then I took up with Special Vics trying to make myself useful only to almost be killed by a crazy Persian sex trafficker while loosing the love of my life to his new much more awesome partner. Is that what you wanted to know, Sheldon?" Gus drained her wine, pouring another, much bigger glass while Sheldon studied her carefully.

"Yes, I suppose it was. Except, how are you doing now?" He gave her a small smile.

"I'm getting there, I suppose. It will be better when this trial is over and I can get off of modified duty and feel like I am actually worth something again."

Sheldon look at her incredulous, "worth something? Gus, you shut down an international prostitution and human trafficking ring. Sounds pretty useful to me. What is this you mean by Flack and his new partner? Every time I have talked to him, he brings you up, so if anything is happening between him and Jess, I don't think it is anything serious."

"Well then, maybe whatever happened between him and I wasn't that serious either."

"He asked you to marry him. Twice. That isn't something I have been able to do with anyone once." Sheldon drained his own wine. Gus attempted to refill it, pouting as the bottle emptied.

"You should get on that, Shelly," Gus teased, heading to the kitchen for another bottle.

"I will if you promise to quit hiding from the lab and everyone," Sheldon called after her.

Chapter 55: Supersonic

Gus had just arrived back down in the pit from across the way at the district attorney's office, another grueling morning of trial prep had sapped nearly all her energy.

She had been tempted to head up to the lab for an espresso, but figured she should check in with Parker first and see how her new system was working out.

The pit was full of chaos, a repeat offender being hauled in by two boots who barely had memorized the Miranda warning and didn't have their skull properly cuffed.

Gus hugged the wall next to the interrogation rooms as the unruly suspect jumped up on a set of desks. She rolled her eyes as Angell rushed to try to control the situation, almost falling into the interrogation room as the door swung open.

"He's not breathing," Flack's voice was full of terror below her.

Gus turned, seeing the teenager on the ground and Flack over him. Froth emanating from the kid's mouth. She rushed in, pushing up the kid's shirt and starting chest compressions.

"What the hell happened, Flack?" she asked between compression, straddling the teen's form and wailing on his chest as he didn't breathe.

"I was just asking him some questions and he just stopped-" Flack broke off, his voice raspy.

Gus heard the panic in his voice and her heart swelled for him. "Damn, kid, come on! Don, get the portable defibrillator and call a bus, now!" She snapped at him and he sprung to action but the defibrillator wasn't there.

"Crap!" they both swore. Gus was already dripping with sweat as Flack moved her out of the way to continue compressions.

"We need a bus in here, stat," she yelled out into the somewhat contained pit before sliding down the wall, overcome with exhaustion.

"I don't know, I just came over from the DA's and Flack had already started CPR..." Gus trailed off, gulping down the glass of water Mac had given her.

"Well just sit tight, IAB might want to talk to you. Don, are you sure you don't want a union rep?" Mac asked again, before heading in to the body of young Todd Fleming.

"Why does he keep asking that?" Flack said, his jaw clenching and releasing, "I didn't do anything wrong."

"Because they are IAB, Flack, we always have done something wrong. Just watch your back, okay?" Gus gave his arm a squeeze and looked at him with pleading eyes before heading back to her desk, sighing as she took in Angell leaning up against it.

"I am pretty sure Don had nothing to do with this kid's death," the brunette snapped.

"Yeah, Jess, I am positive he didn't, but that doesn't matter until IAB says he didn't!" Gus ignored Lafferty's cat meow behind them.

"Well as his partner, I'll be sure to tell them he didn't." Angell locked her dark eyes on Gus, who glared back, despite wanting to crumble.

"You do that. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a trial to prep for." Gus turned on her heel, making haste toward the elevator, happy for the solace of the sixth floor.

"Broussard, I thought the DA was done with us for the day," Doyle said as she flounced into the SVD squad.

"Yeah, well half of the pit is now a crime scene and I thought I should remove myself before I made the other half one as well," Gus snapped.

"You wanna take a seat in my office?" Doyle asked, ushering her in, "I'll grab us some coffee."

Gus nodded, happy for the offer. She marched in, settling in one of the chairs facing his desk, pulling her hair out of its bun and twirling it back up again nervously until Doyle returned.

When she did, she told him what little she knew of the drama that had unfolded downstairs. She knew Flack and Angell had been hard at work on a case that had involved the mutilated body of a wrestling coach, but she had been up to her eyeballs in cold cases and trial prep, so she hadn't really had more than a passing knowledge.

"So the kid was dead?" Doyle asked.

"Deader then a doornail. Flack is pretty shook up and IAB is sniffing up everyone's skirt," Gus took a long drink of coffee, suppressing a shiver.

"He getting his union rep?"

Gus shrugged, "I hope so, he was trying to say he didn't need one, but hopefully Mac will convince him otherwise."

"Jesus, well, feel free to work up here as long as you want to. You need anyone to carry anything up for you?" Doyle started to rise, but Gus waved him off.

"I am fine, Jimmy, I'll see how long the pit is out of commission, but I will take you up on it if it is going to be too long. I guess I should go see if the rat squad needs a statement from me."

"Take care, Gus, we're here if you need us."

The pit was slightly less chaotic, the teen's body had been removed, but crime scene tape still was strewn around. Gus checked in with Daddino, who was bitching about the paperwork he was going to have to fill out and directed her to an IAB officer who took her rather brief statement.

"So you were just walking by?" he asked, making a few notes on his paper.

"Pretty much, walking past, door opened, Detective Flack said he wasn't breathing, saw kid on floor, helped administer CPR. End of story."

"And how long have you known Detective Flack."

"Since fall of 2005, when I first joined the department," Gus replied, wondering where this line of questioning was going to go.

"In that time period, have you ever known Detective Flack to use excessive force on a suspect or behave in an irrational or violent manner?" The IAB detective didn't even both to look up from his script, his chicken scratch filling in the blanks with Gus' responses.

Gus couldn't help but give a short laugh. "Sugar, it is clear to me you haven't even bothered to open his personnel file. He is the one of the most level headed people you will ever meet, and on more than one occasion has stopped others, me included, from caving in the skull of someone who so richly deserved a boot to the head. So, no, I have not known Detective Flack to use excessive force or behave in an irrational or violent manner. Anything else or can I get back to getting actual criminals off the street?"

This got the man's attention, he looked up, his mouth slightly open. "Fine, go, but I hope I am not one day back here questioning people about you."

"Me either," Gus said, standing, "have a lovely day, detective."

Gus was seething as she left the conference room they had seated the IAB officer in, almost colliding with Angell coming out of an interrogation room.

"Was it you? Did you tell them, did you think it would make any difference to Don or I? Because it won't, all it does is make my word useless and hurt him. Bet you didn't think about that when you had to tattle even though I never said a thing to anyone when the tables were turned. I can't believe you could be such an idiot, I thought you were supposed to be smart!" Angell gestured wildly at Gus, her finger coming close to poking the other woman in the chest.

"Jess, you'll have to excuse me, but what the hell are you having a hissy fit about?" Gus asked backing up and around the corner to the supply closet.

"Did you tell IAB about me and Don seeing each other?" Angell hissed under her breath.

Gus shook her head, opening the door to the closet, trying for a tiny bit of privacy. "No, I didn't. I wasn't really privy to the details nor do I really want to know about them now. But I do take offense at you excusing me of telling IAB. I may have been stupid in breaking off our engagement and running away, but I am not an idiot. I would never snitch on Don or you or any other homicide detective to the rat squad. Jesus, Jess!" Gus crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot.

"If it wasn't you, who was it? And what do you mean your engagement, Don proposed to you?" Angell's expression was stoney, but her chin quivered slightly.

"Twice, actually, not that it's relevant. I am sure no one was trying to deliberately call y'all out, could have just overheard some gossip or maybe Don was trying to get out in front of things and told them himself. It shouldn't matter anyway, so y'all are...whatever it is you are doing, you weren't even in the room. We just need to chill until Sid finds what actually killed the kid." Gus tried to not feel satisfied at the vein she could see throbbing in Angell's forehead, it didn't matter that she had been with Don first anyway, Angell was with him now and Gus got to go home to an empty bed.

"Fine, but you know he didn't do anything wrong." Angell stormed out of the closet, slamming the door behind her.

"How the hell do you do this day in and day out?" Flack asked her a while later, pacing through the pit.

"Do what?" Gus asked, flipping though a file.

"Be a part of the rubber gun squad, I feel naked." His hand dropped to the empty holster on his hip.

"First you are wearing a suit, second I still have my gun, third I kindly invite you to prance around in mini- dresses and get used as a punching game for a sex trafficker next time, and finally you are being a jerk because this isn't nothing, this is trying to make a dent in nine thousand cold cases!" Gus slammed her file shut, waving her hands at him.

Flack stopped, looking at down at her flushed face, he had clearly hit a nerve. He walked over, perching on the edge of her desk. "I didn't mean it like that, Gus, I just feel-" he searched for the right word.

"Frustrated, useless, redundant, bored, ineffectual, powerless? Should I continue, because believe me, bub, I have felt all of those things in the past few months and then some. It isn't exactly a laugh riot being chained to a desk, I get that, but you do what you can to make a difference however you can. Or you can pace around and whine about it, that is helpful as well." Gus leaned back in her chair, giving Flack a look.

Flack gave her a small smile, "Bub, really, sunshine?"

"If the bub fits, now how about you take over Parker's desk and I teach you the Broussard cold case method and you help me get through some of these files?" Gus gave him a smile and raised her eyebrows, hoping to get his mind off the investigation.

A few hours later, after being interrupted what seemed like a hundred times by people checking in on him, Flack looked up from the file box he had been going though.

Gus had a pretty nifty system worked out, one that he thought could actually bring new life to many old cases. He looked over at her, her hair carefully adjusted so her still healing scar wouldn't show, chewing on a pen cap as she made notes on a legal pad. "Hey, Gus?" he said.

"Yeah?" she asked, looking up and blowing an errant strand out of her face.

"How come you haven't asked me about Todd Fleming?"

"The kid? Because there is nothing to ask. Obviously something crazy happened and the kid dropped dead. Plus I figured if you wanted to talk about it, you would. I know you know I am a very good listener, could practically make a career out of it." She flashed him a broad grin.

Flack gave a small chuckle. "I've missed this, working together. Regardless of anything, we do make a pretty good team, though you do have a nice set up here with these."

"Thanks, Flack, I mean that, I really do."

"I still couldn't go this for very long though," Flack sighed at the file.

"I guess I have gotten used to it, and with the Shirazi case, I don't really have a choice. Plus, it is kind of nice being able to sleep through the night."

"I'll take your word on it, sunshine." Flack gave her a dimpled grin, breaking off when Angell came storming up to the desk.

"Don, can I talk to you, over there?" she pointed with her head to their desks.

"Yeah, sure. See you, Gus." With that, he was gone, leaving Gus feeling as cold as her files.