Title: Their Love, Her Murder

Disclaimer: Serious slash. Violence. Language. Angst. Character death.

POV: Danny

Chapter Four: A Little Something Sweet

I take of my glasses and rub the bridge of my nose. I have been studying the sample from Mr. Bradley's car for hours. It doesn't match the arsenic that killed him. It's not drugs. Hell, I even thought it might be drywall dust. Nope. Just another dead end. I'm tired of starring at the computer. I want to take a break. Maybe catch up on how things are going with Hawkes and Stella. Only, they went out not too long ago. I saw them. Nice of them to include me in the investigation. I sort of feel like everyone is pulling away from me. What did I do?

"Screw this," I mutter. I leave the evidence on the table and leave my white lab coat hanging on a hook. I want fresh air. I want to be somewhere. Anywhere but starring at a foreign white substance. Maybe the fresh air will trigger something in my mind and I'll come up with some idea as to what the substance is.

I pass Mac's office. No one is there. I haven't seen Lindsay either. Seems I'm the only one around. Kind of like a lab-shut-in. Ever get the feeling that people don't want you around?

My stomach growls. I check my watch. I missed lunch. Big surprise there. I wonder if anyone else missed lunch. It's never fun to eat out alone. I flip open my cell phone and dial Aiden.

"This is Aiden," she answers.

"Hey, how are things going?"

"Danny, what a surprise. I'm doing okay. I'm actually on my way to a job interview right now. What can I do for you?"

I sigh. "You already answered my question. I was going to see if you wanted to do lunch but you're busy."

She giggles. "Danny, lunch? It's three in the afternoon. Most people have had lunch by now."

"So it seems. But I've been trying to identify some white substance and I just lost track of time. It happens to the best of us."

"So it does." We talk more about the job interview she's going to. We promise each other that we'll get together soon and then hang up. My stomach growls again. There has to be someone out there who hasn't eaten. We don't all just get up and eat at noon. It's not plausible.

I dial another number. His number. What the hell am I doing?

"Detective Flack." He always sounds business like on his cell phone. I smile at the sound of his voice. I like that he enjoys his job. Why work a job you hate?

"Flack, it's Danny. What are you doing?"

"Sitting at my desk starring at two-day-old Chinese take-out. What about you?"

Fate? Destiny? Or just mere coincidence? "Walking out of the lab. I missed lunch. Want to go grab some food?"

"Sure, anything has to be better than this old Chinese. I think it just moved. Where you want to go?"

"I'll meet you at the restaurant two blocks from the lab. You know which one I'm talking about, don't you?"

"Yep, I'll be there in just a few minutes."

I don't hang-up. Even though he has. I can't believe we're going to have lunch together. I can't believe that I called him. I can't believe that he accepted. Maybe there's something to all this. Could it be that he feels the same? Or is he just toying with me?

I get a table at the restaurant. I don't want to get caught sitting in the bar. You never know who might see you. What might get leaked back to the man in charge. Flack shows up about ten minutes later. By now I've already looked over the menu. If possible, I am hungrier than I was. A lot of the food looks good.

Flack joins me. Before saying anything at all he cruises over the menu. The waitress comes and we both end up ordering the same thing; a burger and fries. It's not until she leaves that Flack actually looks at me.

"So what case are you working now?" He asks.

"Mac stuck me with Hawkes and Stella. Some guy who died of arsenic poisoning."

He cocks an eyebrow. "If you know what killed him, then why did you miss lunch?"

"Running trace on some foreign substance. I still haven't figured out what it is. But it was found in the back of the car the guy was driving. The car that he drove off the road," I explain. "What are you doing?"

"Right now, just paperwork. Nothing big has come in yet. I say, give it another hour and I'll have something."

We both laugh. New York sure has its fair share of crooks. The waitress swings by with our meals. We chat about sports and movies, TV shows that we recently watched, and even Stella and Mac. Flack agrees with me that there is something between them. Something, but what?

"We're doing a promotion today," our waitress says, interrupting us. "We're trying out a new beer supplier. So, for today only, we are passing out shots for a free taste. You two big boys look thirsty." She places two shot glasses of beer on the table. Before I can decline the offer she disappears and starts her speech at another table.

"You can have mine," I say. Flack looks at me. "Mac doesn't like his team to drink. On or off the job."

"You went drinking last night," he states.

Tell him why you went. Go on, I dare you to. Tell him.

"Well, yes, I did. But only because you asked. And anyway, I got caught and Mac was not happy. So you may have my free beer-shot."

Flack leans across the table. "How about neither one of us drinks them?"

He's leaning so close that I can smell his aftershave. It smells like heaven. He always smells like heaven. Of course, his job doesn't entail him to dig through trashcans. He leans a little closer. As close as he can with the table between us. My heart beats a little faster. What is he going to do?

Our waitress bumps into the table as a mother chases her young son around the restaurant. The bump shakes the table. It knocks over the alcohol. And most of it lands on me.

"Shit!" I stand to look at the beer soaking into my clothes. Flack looks at a loss as to what to do. "I have to go home and change," I say.

"Why? I'm sure if you explain to Mac what happened, he'll understand. Mac is a reasonable guy."

"I would rather just change. I'm sorry about the lunch," I apologize.

Flack opens his mouth to say something but my cell phone rings. I answer it hastily. If it's Mac I want him to know that I'm alert and focused on my job. It's Stella instead.

"Danny, we've got a break in our case. We'll meet you back at the lab. I think we figured out what that white substance was."

"Um, okay, I'll be there."

She hangs up. I look to see that Flack is no longer at the table. He's straightening out the bill with the waitress and the manager. Why is he talking to the manager? Is that really necessary? It was an accident.

Flack will be pissed if he founds out that you were around alcohol after the talking her gave you earlier. Don't let him catch you, Danny.

My phone rings again as Flack comes back to the table. "The manager only made us pay for half the lunch. It's amazing what people will do for cops."

I smile and flip open my phone again. This time it is Mac. I must lose some color because Flack looks worried and I can see a question forming in his mind.

"Mac, what can I do for you?" I say. I hope that I sound normal. I don't want him to know that I'm in full panic mode. I need to get home and change before I see him. Will I have time though?

"Daniel Messer, get your ass back to the lab right now. You have some explaining to do. If you're not here in five minutes, consider yourself without a job."