Disclaimer: Again, if you recognize it, it's not mine, and if you don't it is.

Pairing: Flack/OC, and later some D/L

Chapter 2: Making Friends

Flack had arrived at LAX and after collecting his suitcase from baggage claim and hailing a cab, he was ready for a nap. When he got to his hotel in downtown LA, he checked in and headed towards the elevator bay where he waited with a couple of suits for an elevator to appear. When it arrived they filed in and pushed the buttons for their floors. Just before the door slid shut, a pretty blonde managed to get her hand in to stop the doors from closing. Don smiled at her as she moved to stand next to him, and grinned more when she gave him a sexy smile back. Now this is what I need for a good vacation. When the blonde reached her floor, she threw a sultry smile over her shoulder as she walked away. Shaking his head, Flack waited until he got to his floor and exited the elevator.

Don dropped his stuff onto the bed and headed in to take a shower after drawing his curtains shut. Emerging from the shower, nearly a half hour later, he grabbed a t-shirt and a fresh pair of boxers to wear. He shifted his luggage to the sofa in the room and collapsed into bed. When Don woke up the room was dark. With a groan he rolled over to look at the digital clock on the nightstand. 8:54 pm blared out in red lights. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Don rolled from the bed and went to use the bathroom.

After he'd used the bathroom, he got dressed in a casual shirt and pants and grabbed his leather jacket. He'd seen a bar down the street when he arrived at the hotel, and since he wasn't feeling up to much company for the moment, a few drinks would be all the company he'd need.

Don walked into the bar, The Shield Bar and Grill, and headed over to the bartender. As he took a seat, he noticed the decorations on the wall, and had to shake his head. Of course, of all the bars to walk into, I managed to walk into probably the only cop bar in all of LA. Don managed to get the bartender's attention and the guy came over to take his order.

"What'll it be?" asked the bartender.

"Scotch on the rocks and make it a double." Don said taking a glance at the other patrons in the bar.

In a corner booth a couple of guys were laughing while drinking pints of beer. Many of the guys in the bar were wearing uniforms, though the lack of radios and their guns indicated they were probably off duty. Christ, Donny boy, they better be off duty. Getting' trashed while on the clock isn't really gonna help with serving and protecting. When the bartender returned with his drink, Don noticed a guy a few seats down on the bar, giving him a look.

"Can I help you?" Don asked the stranger, after taking a drink of his scotch.

"Yeah, why're you in here?" The stranger said.

"What's it to you if I'm here?"

"This is a cop bar. We don't like outsiders in our bar," the guy said. The way the guy said outsider made Don think it was a dirty word. He raised his eyebrows as he replied.

"Back off bucko, I'm a cop."

"Oh yeah? I've never seen you before and I know everyone who comes here. So don't lie to me." Flack groaned; he had simply wanted to have a few drinks before he decided to head back to his room. But this pigheaded moron wouldn't leave him alone. So with a sigh he reached into his front pocket for his badge—It's like an American Express card, don't leave home without it—and tossed it onto the counter in front of the guy. Don took another drink of his Scotch and signaled to the bartender for another, while the guy picked up his badge. Out of the corner of his eye, Don could see the guy shooting looks at him. Rolling his eyes, he held his hand out to get his badge back. The guy silently handed him his badge and Don put it back into his pocket. Nodding his thanks to the bartender for the refill, he waited for the guy to say something, because of course the guy would. And Don wasn't wrong.

"So… NYPD. What division are you in?"

"I'm in Homicide, with the CSI unit."

"Ah, you're a lab techie. Now I see why I thought you weren't a cop." The guy said with a smug smirk. Don shook his head, this guy was a moron. Don couldn't help wonder if all LAPD cops were this stupid; they couldn't be or no criminals would ever be caught.

"Actually I'm a detective and I've never spent a day of my life in the lab." Don said looking at the guy. "That's real great gut instinct you got there. You ever manage to catch any real criminals?" The guy looked pissed and about ready to take a swing when another guy, who Don hadn't noticed, stood up from next to the moron and put a hand on his arm.

"Hey Petey, why don't you go take a leak or something" the new guy suggested. Don watched as 'Petey' gave him a dirty look before heading to the men's room. "Sorry about him. He's had a rough week and you're the first target he's managed to run across. Detective James McAllister," the man, James, said while holding out a hand.

"Detective Don Flack. And just 'cause he's had a bad week don't mean he needs to ruin my vacation." Don said while shaking his hand. The guy was tall but solid; Don had a feeling that if it came to a fight, McAllister would kick his ass.

"So, NYPD, huh? You're a long way from home, what brings you to LA?" McAllister asked as he signed to the bartender for refills.

"Mandatory vacation. One of my coworkers suggested I go somewhere with some sunshine and I wound up here."

"Mandatory vacation, what'd you do, rough up a suspect?"

"Nah, I wish that had been the case. I was injured a few months ago in a bombing. I've been in PT for the last couple months, but my boss wanted me to relax a little before I head back into the trenches, so to speak."

"Hey I heard about those bombings, they were pretty nasty. There were a bunch of fatalities, weren't there? How'd you make it out?"

"I was clearin' the building with one of our CSIs, and a lady had lost track of her kid. So I go in to find him and then I get a call tellin' me he's safe. I was headin' out when the buildin' blew. Me and Lindsay both got hurt, though she wasn't nearly so bad. I was on life support for a week. They weren't sure I'd pull through." McAllister let out a low whistle. Don and McAllister began to swap horror stories of chasing down perps andthe cases they'd worked.

Before Don had realized it, it was nearly one in the morning. "Shit, look at the time," he said to McAllister. He'd only meant to be there for an hour or so.

"Damn, my wife'll kill me when I get home." Don laughed finishing his drink.

"Hey, you know any good clubs around here? I was thinkin' of goin' out tomorrow, well I guess it's tonight now, but I don't know anyplace around here."

"Yeah, go to the Emerald Room. It's this cool club downtown. Not only do they have a great bartender, they're real strict about who they let in. They're by the book 'cause the owner's an ex-cop. They have pretty good food and this cool lounge area. It's actually where I met my wife, she was a waitress there." Don grinned at McAllister. The guy had been real nice and had made up for the crappy way his buddy Petey had acted. Don had been real happy the guy had booked it not long after he and McAllister had started talking. McAllister handed Don a card with his number on it.

"Hey, if you need anything while you're here, give me a call. I'll always help a fellow cop. Enjoy LA, Don, and take it easy." Laughing Don shook his hand and they headed off.

AN: Hope you enjoyed it. Reviews would be greatly appreciated. And next chapter we meet Flack's love interest as well as diving into the action of the fic.