Spoilers 8x14. Hope y'all enjoy! This chapter goes out to cein (who will probably never see this) as inspired by the amazing Flackcentric oneshot "Nobody's Fool"!

Chapter 7

"I promise you, Lindsay, the next day we have off together you will get adult female friend time. When have I ever needed permission from Don for anything?" Gus said with a snort, Don rolling his eyes and giving her the wrap it up hand signal. "I gotta go, yes, yes, it is lovely not eating dinner at 5pm like an old person. Goodbye Lindsay."

Don dimpled, turning the oven off, "how is it that Linds always calls when we are trying to eat dinner?"

"It's because it is Lucy's bedtime and Danny has bedtime duty. Can we eat at the table on this rare occasion of eating something homemade and at a reasonable hour?" Gus replied.

"There was a table under there?" Don teased, already pulling down plates.

Gus gestured to the basket spilling over with bills, papers, and other ephemera. "A few layers down, indeed there was. You want me to open wine since we aren't on call?"

"Like you have to ask," he replied, setting the table before pausing at the window to stare out at the snow. "It's really coming down out there," he remarked.

Gus walked over beside him peering out with a shiver. "Much nicer from in here if you ask me," she said with a shiver, flipping the switch on the electric fireplace.

"Wimp," Don teased, rubbing her arms before going to grab their food.

"I don't see you rushing out to build a snowman, babe!" she shot back, with a laugh.

They were wrapped up in each other on the couch quite some time later; enjoying the fire and the falling snow, Gus streaming WWOZ, a mix of jazz and blues filled the living room. Gus was just about to suggest they move to the bedroom when her phone started buzzing. "Why is my uncle calling me at this hour?" she grumbled, moving to answer it next to the window.

Gus hung up the phone shaking her head. "Well that's a first, Mac is calling us out to a scene instead of the other way around."

"Man can't take a night off, can he?" Don said, seeing his phone light up from dispatch muttering, "and apparently neither can we."

"You can't complain about it being freezing and forget your gloves, sunshine," Don said, pulling her gloves from his pocket as they trudged through the snow to meet Mac.

Gus took them greedily, "I didn't forget them," she protested.

"Let me guess," he said with a knowing smirk, "you lost them?" He had rescued them from the copy machine a few days prior, where Gus had left them in a rush to bring something to the lab.

"Temporarily misplaced, it seems," she said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, "my hero." He smiled widely in return.

They stepped under the crime scene tape, Gus stopping to cock her head at Mac who was having an intense conversation on the phone with Jo. "I know I keep bugging you to leave your office, Mac, but this isn't exactly what I meant," she quipped as he hung up.

The expression on his face made both detectives turn sober. "What's going on, Mac? Why are you first on scene?" Don asked.

"Jo and I both received a photograph on our personal phones from a 1957 cold case, at this location. I came down here trying to put the pieces together and found the victim. She's one of ours, Flack, she works in the lab. Jessica Drake," Mac said, his expression somber.

"Crap," Gus said, "we're on it, Mac," she said, already turning toward the uniforms.

"You recognize her?" Flack asked as they turned the corner.

Gus shook her head, pointing her flashlight at the service alley. "Nah, I mean maybe she ran some old evidence for me when I was on cold cases, but most of the techs barely look up from their stations."

"No kidding," he remarked, jutting his chin, "feel like dumpster diving?"

Gus made a face, flipping the lid on the dumpster open. "Never, but we don't have to," she said, pointing at the shoe and tote most likely belonging to their vic on top of the garbage bags.

"Small blessings," Flack remarked, fishing the shoe out with a pen.

Gus scrolled down her phone as they walked back to Mac. "It's bizarre, this 1957 case, similar age of victim, posed the same way, stabbed on a snowy night," she gestured.

"Think we are looking at a copycat?" he asked her as he handed the shoe and bag over to Jo.

Both women shook their head in unison, "copy cats are trying to get the fame of the original," Gus explained as Jo said, "copycats like to benefit from the notoriety of the original killer." "What she said," Gus laughed.

"You did this," Flack said pointing to Mac and then to the two women.

"I did," he remarked, still not cracking a smile. "Do you know how long this place has been vacant?"

"Nine months," Flack replied, "running down the property manager now. Any idea why the killer would want you two to be the first to know about this? Seems pretty ballsy."

Jo thought for a moment, "I really can't. I rarely crossed paths with her, she was level one on the night shift, mainly did grunt work."

"Whatever the reason, they certainly got our attention," Mac said sternly, "and unlike last time, this time we are going to solve the case."

Gus rubbed her hands over her face frustratedly before pouring another cup of coffee.

"At least this is inside," Flack said, handing her creamer, a similar weary expression on his face.

"Is it just me or are those lab rats in severe disagreement on who Jessica Drake was?" she groaned.

Flack opened his memobook, "you mean 'she was awesome' but then 'she was different', or she was 'quiet' or 'hilarious and always having fun'? It's like each one I talk to contradicts the one before."

"What's your take on this Harlan character?" Gus asked, flipping through her own memobook.

"Seems a little too into the Lana Gregory case and maybe a little too into Jessica too," he remarked.

Gus chewed on the stir stick, "right? And he's not answering his phone, which is circumspect."

"No kidding, guess we gotta see what they have to say upstairs," he said, walking towards the elevators.

Gus felt the cold shoulder from every lab tech she talked to, literally turning away from her and busying themselves, the science equivalent of slamming the door in her face. Flack hadn't fared any better with the team, she discovered as they commiserated while grabbing food later.

"They are closing ranks, babe, doesn't surprise me. No different than our blue line," Flack said, brushing crumbs off his scarf.

Gus made a face. "I suppose, and I know those lab techs are like Mac's ducklings but I swear half of the them looked at me like I actually had gone dumpster diving earlier!"

Flack bit back a chuckle. "Look, I know you are used to a different relationship with the lab, but these kids weren't here when you started, they don't know your background. This is what it is usually like sunshine, we're just dumb cops to them," he chuckled.

"But that's not fair," she implored, "sure there are plenty of lugs in the department but you don't make homicide detective in the NYPD without a modicum of intelligence. Hell, you practically have to have a masters in CJ to get promoted these days!" She looked at him with wide, sad eyes, wondering what it had been like for him in those early days. "How did you put up with it, Don?"

Flack put his arm around her, knowing she was feeling like the odd one out while also managing to worry about those early days of his before his shield had even gotten scuffed up. "I remember the first time I got sent over to the lab, I was scared shitless of my boss, this was before Daddino, and he basically told me I had to stay in the lab until I got the report. I track down the tech in charge of it and I am telling you this report was not in English, even worse than your memobook," he shot Gus a look, laughing at her scowl. "I made the mistake of asking him to translate and hes just spews out a bunch of science words that made my eyes glaze over and then he asks if I know how to read or does he need to read the report to me."

Gus sniffed, "I am sure that went over well."

"I almost told him he could read my fist," Flack replied with raised eyebrows, "but Mac saw and intervened. He, I don't know, took pity on me or something, in those early days; walked me through reports in English until I started to recognize all the science words." He shrugged, "and eventually I just hung around enough to get the gist."

Gus looked up at him for a long beat. "You studied up, didn't you?"

Nobody else would have noticed the slight flush that crept up his neck, but she knew every inch of him, though she didn't press when he replied with, "I pay attention to details, it's the detective in me."

"I do love your attention to detail, Detective, and you," she said, tugging him down by his scarf for a kiss.

"Harlan Porter? Well, sugar, I was fixin' to send out a search party to find you, if you could just pop on by the precinct on your way into the lab," Gus drawled into the phone as the ballistics tech finally called her back.

Flack made a noise and shook his head, pulling out his wallet to hand Parker a fiver. Gus raised her eyebrows at them, even though she was no longer surprised that they would bet on anything. She hung up the phone looking satisfied. "How many times do I have to tell y'all that you catch more flies with honey?"

"Yeah, but who wants a bunch of flies?" Parker asked, snapping his winnings and heading off to the vending machine.

"You think he'll actually show?" Flack asked her.

Gus gave him a look, "why, you wanna bet? You questioning my prowess, blue eyes?"

He held up his palms,"I wouldn't dare."

"Okay then. And since you lost your bet with Parker, I'll let you and Messer take a run at him," she said with a smile.

"You just want to grab some good coffee and drink it in peace," he replied with a knowing look.

Gus nodded, "yeah, that too."

Gus clutched her latte and watched as Flack and Messer faced off with the tech she had ensconced in the interview room a few minutes before. Harlan had seemed confused and disappointed when she left, but for a lab nerd, he wasn't smart enough to catch on to what was about to happen to him.

Her opinion of him did not get any better as she observed Danny and Don question him. He was nonchalant as Don started to lay out the dots and continued to protest as Danny connected them. Harlan's commentary about Jessica 'shouldn't have been acting like that' almost made Gus crush her latte. His professions of love seemed genuine enough, but something about his controlling actions didn't sit right with her.

"What do yous think?" Danny asked as they let Harlan go.

Flack scowled, "I don't like Mr. Check with Questionable Documents one bit. Curious about the friend, Kim, not mentioning she was with them the night her bff was killed though."

"His definitely a controlling jerk, but I am not sure he is shanked her with a champagne glass. Guess I'll start pulling MTA footage and try to find him riding the rails," Gus said with an exasperated sigh.

Gus turned the screen towards Flack when he came back to his desk. "Harlan was doing a good hobo impression," she said pointing to him on surveillance video.

"Saved by big brother and also by the fact that Adam figured out that our suspect is female and one of three lab techs," Flack said pulling on his coat.

Gus started to do the same. "Are we going to pick up all three?"

He shook his head, "no, we are going to go home to sleep in our own bed and let the lab do their thing. Mac wants hard evidence, isn't risking a confession."

"If it didn't mean I get to sleep with you in our very comfortable bed over those slabs in the on-call room, I would argue that Mac is being sanctimonious again. Is Kim one of the three?" she asked, wrapping her scarf around her.

"He didn't even give me names, probably so we wouldn't pick them up," he said with a knowing look.

"Looks like Kim moved up to number one," Flack joked as they passed by interrogation the next day, seeing Mac and Jo questioning the lab tech.

"This ought to be good," she said, ducking in to observe.

Flack stood behind her, shaking his head as Kim explained how easy it was to kill her friend, the jealousy she constantly felt toward the other young woman, the fierce competition for two available criminalist spots. "She's a piece of work," he growled in Gus' ear.

"She's a piece of work who confessed and they already had all the evidence, plus we got to sleep in our own bed," she said, leaning back against him.

"Among other things," he bantered.

"A win for everyone except Jessica and Kim," Gus replied, moving out of Don's reach as Jo stormed out of the room having reached her limit of Kim's diatribe.

The two came in from wrapping things up with the lab, Gus skidding to a stop before she reached their desks. Flack caught her before she could go down. "You okay, sunshine?" he asked, looking at her.

"Why is there an old guy at my desk, looking like he owns the place?" she whisper hissed, pointing at the man who was moving things around.

Flack narrowed his eyes, taking in the man who did seem very comfortable in the pit, something familiar in the way he held himself. Still, he very much was at Gus' desk, currently fingering a wedding candid she had on her desk lamp. He looked around, wondering why none of the other guys were questioning the elderly man, but all were bustling around with their own cases. He gestured for Gus to stay back, striding towards the man saying, "you need help, buddy?" his tone more friendly than his posture.

Gus ignored him, right on his heels as the older man stood, straightening his sport coat and saying, "I'm not sure, son, but I think she may be able to," he said, giving Gus a nod. He looked back at the photograph and then to the pair, recognition sparking in his eyes. "Ah, things are so different these days."

Flack still hadn't moved, keeping himself between Gus and the other man. "Stand down, Junior, I come in peace," he said with a smile. "Retired detective Paul Burton, I was lead on the Lana Gregory case back in the day and I understand your…" he paused unsure of how to address the pretty blonde the younger man was protectively blocking, though she looked like she could more than hold her own. "Partner," he decided on, "has a bit of a knack for cold cases."

"Among other things," Flack said, his expression softening as he looked over his shoulder at Gus.

"Detective Flack, could you get us all a round of coffees while I see how I can help Detective Burton here?" she said, giving him a long look letting him know everything was fine.

"Sure thing, sunshine," Flack said with a wink, not bothering to ask how Burton wanted his.

Gus pulled over a chair next to her desk, gesturing for the man to sit in it as she reclaimed her desk chair, feeling a bit wary.

"Interesting arrangement," Burton remarked, his eyes barely moving from the photo to Gus.

She still caught it though and pasted on a pageant smile. "I can't imagine anyone else having our backs as well," she drawled, the barest of warnings in her tone. "Now about my knack for cold cases?"

"This case has been haunting me for 50 years, every lead and clue has been exhausted, it's so cold even the cold case squad put it on ice." He looked bereft enough that Gus didn't say anything.

"Mac Taylor told me you have worked wonders with cold cases both here and…was it New Orleans where you are from?" Burton asked, even though his look said he had done his research on her.

"Yes, sir, but I am trying to stay out of the cold case business these days, had a little too much of an adventure with them," Gus said, shuddering at the memory of her parents' case.

He nodded stoically, "even so, I know Mac already pulled up the original files and evidence. If you could humor an old man and maybe take a look?" He pulled something from the interior pocket of his sport coat, "and this, should all be in the report, but you never know," Burton said with a half shrug, holding the ancient memobook out to her.

Gus' curiosity was piqued, especially since Mac wasn't in the habit of telling strangers about her. "I suppose if I have any down time, I could take a glance. No promises though," she warned, taking the memobook and rising.

Paul Burton took her cue, sticking his hand out for her to shake. "You stay safe out there, Detective Flack."

"Broussard, sir, and I plan on it," Gus said, guiding him deftly out of the pit.