Chapter 28: Dinner and Ice Cream
Somehow Gus made it through the day, luckily Hawkes came to rescue her late in the afternoon for coffee. "Does this mean I get to step foot in the lab?"
"You are too humorous for your own good, Gus," Hawkes replied, deadpan.
"I'm just saying, it sucks being in the office and not in the field," Gus grumbled.
"You have barely been back."
"Doesn't mean I don't have cabin fever already."
"It is kind of weird not having you lurking around saying cryptic things," Hawkes grinned at her.
"I thought that is what you had my uncle for," Gus grinned back.
"Ah ha, a smile. Yes, we do have him for that, but your cryptic sayings have psychobabble in them and Mac doesn't think everyone is a serial killer."
"I do not think everyone is a serial killer, I just think many cases have similar characteristics to that of a more deviant mindset, one much like that of serial killers."
Sitting there drinking coffee, with all team buzzing in and out, making plans with Stella to go to a film festival if Stella didn't get a call on Sunday, Gus felt like she was part of something. And then she looked at the clock, "crap, I have to go, I can't stay after five or they will cattle prod me".
"Well don't be a stranger, Gus, I've missed having coffee with you, Flack doesn't have a monopoly on your time you know," Hawkes said with a serious face.
"Trying telling pretty boy that," Danny snorted from the snack machine, "haven't had a good drinking buddy in weeks."
Gus flushed and became exasperated, "y'all know I didn't fall of the planet, and I would have done the same for anyone on the team. Plus, y'all are the ones working all the time, not me!"
"We know, Gus, I was just giving you a hard time," Hawkes said squeezing her shoulder on the way out of the canteen.
"I wasn't," Danny quipped, "seriously, I need a long night at Sully's." "So ask, Lindsay, girl can shoot whiskey too, ya know," Gus interjected.
Danny became sheepish, "I just, I don't, I wouldn't wanna..." he stammered. Gus just raised her eyebrows at him. "I just think I would take Montana to a classier place, that's all," he bust out with.
"I am going to ignore the fact that I think you just called me un-classy and agree that you should take Lindsay out someplace nicer. Like for dinner or something."
Danny came and sat down beside Gus, "it's not like a haven't been trying, she just doesn't seem to get me."
Gus leaned back in her chair, "You know I am off the clock now right?"
"What does that mean?" Danny slit his eyes at her.
"Means I can give you friendship Gus advice not Doctor Broussard therapist speak," she explain.
"So?" He looked exsasperated.
"I don't think you want friend Gus advice from me right now, Messer."
"Why not?"
"Because it mostly involves me calling you an ass," she replied.
"What kind of friend is that?" he grumbled.
"A good one, besides, I'm Linds' friend too."
"Damn girls club," Danny said getting up and leaving in a huff.
"Hey, Messer?" she called after him.
"What?" he said, only half-turning back around.
"How about we go drinking tomorrow night?" she offered.
"Fine, whatever," Danny responded nonchalantly as he walked out the door.
Gus found herself hurrying home, wondering how things went with Sam and Kelly. Flack was in the middle of a weight workout with a PT, this time a young hunky guy named Paterson according to his id. Gus wasn't sure if that was a first or last name.
"Finally, some eye candy for me," Gus muttered putting down her keys and sorting through the mail. "Hey y'all," she said to the two men in her living room, "can I get you some iced tea?"
"Sure," Flack grunted going through reps.
"That would be lovely," said the physical therapist.
Gus caught a twinge and went into the kitchen hearing Paterson say "is that your wife or girlfriend?" and hearing Flack snort, "God no, we're not, I'm not-" "Oh really?" the young man's voice rose clearly on the end.
"Of course he's gay, why would a hot guy in my living room actually be there for me?" Gus said to herself, adding a mint spring to each glass and carrying a tray out. "Here you gentlemen go, I will be in my room if you need anything."
"Actually we are about done here, unless, Detective you would like some dinner?"
Gus froze in the hallway wondering if Flack was going to catch on that he was being asked out by a guy and how he would respond, she shook her head and went into her room to change into jogging clothes and partake of some yoga herself, really she just didn't want to know.
Gus came out a while later to find Flack on the sofa reading a book, hair damp from the shower. "So no dinner date for you?" she said with a smirk.
Flack made a disgusted face, "No thanks, I like my dates a lot more ya know, female."
"It should not come as a shock that guys hit on you as well, Don."
"I know, but still it weirds me out, I don't know how to handle it," he said, looking slightly uncomfortable.
"Just pretend it is a really ugly girl and let him down easy," Gus suggested.
"You saying I wouldn't go out with an ugly girl?"
"Pu-lease, I have heard more than enough about your past girlfriends from Danny and it sounds like you could start your own modeling agency," she chided.
"Danny needs to learn to shut his trap and I wouldn't not call them all girlfriends."
"Label them as you see fit then, but I am going for a jog, Don Juan."
"Girlfriends are too high maintenance, they have all these expectations and requirements," Flack said, turning back to the book, "have a nice jog, be careful."
Gus came back from her jog, sweaty and starving, she had skipped lunch. She slipped back into the apartment, noticing Flack still had his nose in a book. Definitely a welcome change of pace from his constant and irritating channel surfing.
"I'm making pasta you want some?" she called from the kitchen, where she was rifling through the pantry.
"As long as it is not that healthy crap you tried to give me a couple of weeks ago," came Flack's dry reply.
"It is whole wheat, but that crap was soy and a horrible failed experiment I swear never to repeat. And since when do you turn down food?" she teased.
"Fine then," he replied, not looking up as she stepped back into the living room.
"Watcha reading?" she queried.
"Some Dick Francis book, I didn't know you had boy books," he remarked, flipping a page.
"I wasn't aware literature had genders, blue eyes," she teased.
"You know what I mean," he huffed.
"Well I do have lots of books, thank god they were in storage and didn't get wet during the storm."
"Why were your books in storage?" Flack asked, finally looking up.
Gus thought 'because my asshole fiance didn't think they matched his Southern Living decor and didn't want me to appear to be a woman who could think for herself' but not wanting to broach that subject with Flack merely replied with, "had to make room for my shoes."
A bit later, seated across from each other at the table, steaming bowls of pasta in front of them Gus asked, "so how's this for healthy crap?"
"Too good to be healthy," Flack said digging in with a vengeance.
"Heh," she swallowed her bite, took a swallow of wine and asked, "how did things go with Sam?"
"Let's just say I am glad to not be my little sister, dad was giving her an earful about dropping out of school when I left."
"Ouch, that bad?" Gus winced, worried about the younger woman.
"I would have been a lot harder on her, but my sister is overly dramatic. You would think he was killing her."
"I did notice a bit of a dramatic streak."
"How could you not?" Flack's disdain was clear.
"Do I detect some latent sibling issues, Don?"
"Are you turning therapist on me?"
"Nope, like I told Danny I am off the clock. Speaking of which I'm going out with him tomorrow night."
"Out or out out?" Flack narrowed his eyes.
"Does it matter?" Gus rolled her eyes, "come on it's Danny, were are grabbing a drink at Sully's, I think he is having girl troubles."
"With Lindsay?" Flack questioned.
Gus put her hands up, "I don't know nothing 'bout nothing!'"
They ate in silence for a few minuted before Gus said, "hey Flack, can you request a hot young straight male to come do your next weight training. I mean unless you want Paterson to come back," she broke into a mischievous grin.
"Why are you so mean, and I'm not going to play matchmaker for you, I am sure you do fine on your own."
"Well obviously, I mean you have had to deal with so many over zealous suitors since you have been here," she said.
"Did you just say suitors?" he teased.
"At least I didn't say gentleman callers," she quipped.
He ignored her before asking, "why haven't I?" He realized he was genuinely interested in her response and intrigued at the response he wanted.
"Haven't you, what?" Gus asked, digging in her pasta dish.
"Had to deal with any gentleman callers?" he pressed on, half-teasing.
"Because, dear sir," Gus put a forefinger to her cheek in mock thought, "boyfriends are just as much effort and maintenance as girlfriends!" With that Gus started to clear the table.
As she reached for his plate, Flack had a strange sensation of wanting to pull Gus down into his lap and then his sisters voice rang through his head 'you two are like so in love', he shook his head, that was not possible because: first off, he didn't fall in love; secondly, most of the time he wanted to strangle Gus or put her in a bubble; lastly, she didn't let anyone in.
Gus didn't notice Flack's deep thinking, she was too busy trying to not drop anything from the pile in her hands. She had made it two steps into the kitchen before she dropped the whole stack with a crash.
"Bubble, definitely a bubble," Flack said getting up to help her.
"Watch it, there's glass," Gus exclaimed pushing him back out of the doorway.
"It's fine, I can handle a little glass, I handled a not so little bomb if you recall," Flack said lifting his shirt and pointing at his scars.
Gus gulped and flushed, stepping back on a huge shard. "Dammit" she said hopping back. "Let me just vacuum this up, go read your book or something!"
A couple of minutes of clean up later and Gus hobbled to the bathroom. She was sitting on the edge of the tub, picking out shards of glass with a pair of tweezers when Flack appeared.
"You left a blood trail, team would love that," he said smiling, but with a look of concern.
"I'll be fine, do you know how many times I have injured myself in the course of my lifetime?"
"I can only imagine," Flack smirked.
Gus held up the Marine approved first aid kit, "this was my Christmas gift from Uncle Mac."
"I am surprised there is anything left," he paused, "why don't you refer to him as uncle in public?"
Gus shrugged, swabbing out a deep gash and wincing, "I met him as Mac, I knew him as Mac, he's Mac, I mean could you really call Mac Uncle?"
"Nah," he stopped again, "that was your Christmas gift?"
Gus nodded, putting a butterfly closure on the deepest cut and wrapping her foot in gauze, "we aren't really a sentimental family."
"Wow, you got the short end of the stick on presents then!"
"I'm a big girl, I can buy myself whatever I want, usually."
"Still, it's not the same though." Flack thought about Christmas with his family, being practically buried in wrapping and ribbons.
Gus wondered why he was pushing this issue. "Um, Flack, gifts and holidays in general pretty much started sucking for me when my parents were killed. Besides, a trust fund can get you lots of stupid crap." 'Like a house or two' Gus thought looking around. "I got by just fine on my own."
Flack looked down at her with his blue eyes wide with something cross between care and fear, "Crap, Broussard, I don't know why I keep forgetting, you just seem so...normal."
"I like to think I am," Gus slammed the first aid kit closed, "now I believe I need to go mop my floor."
How can you forget her parents died, and so did her aunt and friend and she's been through a hurricane and god knows what else, Flack, come on you are smarter than this, Flack chastised himself while pretending to read his book, but she does seem so well-adjusted except for being skittish and closed off, okay so maybe she is not so well adjusted but she puts on a good act and looks damn good doing it to Flack admired Gus while she carefully mopped the floor, unaware of his eye following her. Stop it, why are you thinking such things, you have plenty of women fawning all over you day in and day out, it must just be because you have been cooped up in here too long, that must be it, because she is...was...will be...your partner and that won't cut it out in the field. You can't go getting emotions or body parts involved, junior.
"Must be some book," Gus called from the hallway, hand on her hip.
"Why?" Flack raised his head up with a snap.
"I asked you three times if you wanted some ice cream, I was going to hobble down and get some."
"Sure, can I hobble too?"
"Yeah, your treat in that case," she teased.
After getting cones, Gus asked, "so you think Sam will be alright?" her voice and face were full of concern and worry.
Flack felt his heart melt a little like his ice cream was doing but mentally kicked himself, "she will be fine. It was nice of you to go get them and let them spend the night too. I just don't know why she didn't call me."
"I think she was just overwhelmed and scared."
"Still," Flack shook his head, he just thought it was weird that his little sister had called his partner. He didn't know what to call the feeling though. Protective? Jealous? Gus just shrugged, licking her cone. Flack suppressed another devilish thought, though he admitted without thinking, "Sam informed me after you left that she thinks we are in love with each other." He shocked himself as the words came out, where the hell had that come from?
Gus chocked on her ice cream, sputtering, "what?!" she kept coughing, Flack pounded her on the back, her cone falling to the ground, finally she composed herself. "Crap," she said looking down at the puddle of melting ice cream forming.
"I'll buy you another one, though since the thought of being in love with me apparently about kills you, I don't know if I should," he tried to tease but could feel it falling flat.
Gus wasn't about to get sucked down into his seriousness. "Nah, it's all good, I didn't need the empty calories any how. And what would your sister know about love if it doesn't breaking into an ex's apartment to steal her stuff back?" she scoffed.
"True, true," Flack said feeling like he had dodged a bullet.
"I think I need a bath and to forget about the past couple of days," she said, heading back toward her building.
"Sounds like a plan," he agreed.
"That wasn't an invitation," she said, looking back at him over her shoulder with a grin.
Was she flirting? "I know," he huffed, feeling slightly disappointed as he trailed after her.
Chapter 29: Grow Up
The next night, Gus found herself perched on a bar stool at Sully's waiting on Danny, who was running late, as usual, caught up in a case. A wannabee cop two stools down kept trying to hit on her, despite her turning him, and his drinks, down. The bartender tried to tell him to stop, but he remained undeterred. Finally, after one too many comments about her anatomy and things he wanted to do to it, Gus was fed up. "Listen you over-pumped mall security meat head, I've about had it, you ain't a cop, you ain't gonna be a cop and you are in a cop bar, so I would watch my back if I were you!"
"You are one to talk, you uptight bitch. You are in here too, you think just cause you got some prime T&A someone is going to save you? I don't see no shield on you either."
Gus had reared back and was about to start swinging when she heard, "you see a shield now, punk, get the hell outta here!" She looked over to see Danny holding the guy's head to the bar, the guy squaking, "okay, okay, I was just leaving."
Danny released him and Gus couldn't help but notice the impression of Danny's badge on his forehead. "You always make friends like this when you are left alone, Broussard?"
Gus smirked at him, "the guy had it coming, he has been at me for over an hour."
"Yeah, sorry about that, had a hit on some evidence to deal with."
"It's cool Danny, I know you have a job to do. Thanks for the shield trick though, it was a nice touch."
"No problem," Danny said with a shrug, though he was inwardly proud he could protect his friend.
"Hey Stu, put his on my tab," Gus said to the bartender.
They shot a couple games of pool and talked to some other guys on the force and then sat drinking in silence for a little bit before Danny spoke up. "It's, ah, kinda weird being here with just you and not Flack."
"I know, isn't it?" Gus responded wrinkling her nose, "he'll be back soon enough."
"So he's doing good?" Danny asked, kicking himself for not checking in on one of his oldest friends more. "Yeah he's doing great, you know Don." Gus paused briefly, "so what's been going on with you, Messer?"
Danny talked to her about recent cases and about the antics of the team for a good while until Gus got more than a little wistful, when he wrapped it up with "nothin' much, same old stuff." Gus didn't respond other than to turn towards him on her stool and stare him down until he came out with, "same old stuff, chasing evidence, playing with dead people, trying to catch the bad guys, trying to snag Montana."
"Ah ha, there it is. Finally," she said with a wide smile.
"You didn't agree to come out with me just so you could analyze me, right?" he asked, looking a little worried.
"I can't work overtime, Danny, my shift ended about 6 hours ago. This is all friend Gus, promise," she said, patting him on the arm.
"I just don't get women," he sighed, heavily.
"I don't think that's correct," Gus sniffed into her beer, "I've heard stories. I think you don't get Lindsay because she is not some piece of fluff you can flirt with and leave on the side of the road."
"She's just..." Danny took a long pull of beer, "I don't know. She runs hot and cold. Sometimes I think I will be getting somewhere and then she pulls back and puts this wall up. And then there is the fact that she is scary smart and stubborn as anything."
"And a challenge?" Gus interjected.
"Yeah, kinda like you. In fact, you two got a lot in common," he gestured.
"Who said I was a challenge?" Gus narrowed her eyes, hoping to god there was not another betting pool on who could bed her like there had been in New Orleans.
"No one, really, I mean Flack and I talked about..." he trailed off.
"Talked about what?" she pressed him.
"Nothing, I'm not saying another word. Just tell me what to do about Montana!" he pleased.
"Stop acting like a ten year old for starters," she shot back, rolling her eyes.
"Whaddya mean?" Danny didn't know where she was going with this.
"I mean you have done everything short of pulling her pigtails and hitting her with your lunch box. You can be playful and funny and do your whole routine that you think is charming, but be serious occasionally."
"Serious, I can do serious." Gus looked at him with skepticism.
"I can!"
"I didn't say anything," she replied.
"You were giving me a look. That look," Danny said, pointing at her face.
Gus clapped her hands over her face, "that better?"
"And you're one talking to talk about being serious," he shot back.
Gus pulled her hands into her lap, "Danny the thing is," she sighed, "she probably is interested, she just might be scared of getting hurt or getting close. I think there's something that may have happened to her back in Montana. You may just have to give her some time and space. If you are patient, she will come around. You just have to be patient, and treat her like she is a person and a friend above all."
Danny nodded, "I could see that-" he stopped and looked at Gus, suddenly intent, "we are still talking about Montana here right?"
Gus rolled her eyes, "Mostly, as you said me and Linds got a lot in common."
"So what happened to you?" he asked, leaning in.
"What hasn't happened to me?" Gus responded, waving the bartender over to settle their tab. "Listen Danny, I am here if you need to talk whenever, okay?" she said, giving him a quick hup.
"Yeah, thanks," Danny said, leaving a tip, "let's get you in a cab seeing as it is the middle of the night and Flack would have my ass if I didn't see you got home safe."
Flack was still awake when she got in. "You caught my insomnia, I see," Gus retorted to him, "or you were waiting up, which is kind of creepy."
"Nah, I just..." he trailed off.
Gus sat beside him on the couch, tucking her legs underneath her. "Nightmare?" She asked. He didn't say anything, just a slight nod and nostril flare. Gus stretched, "I'm going to make myself some hot chocolate, you want some?"
"It's summer."
"It's not a seasonal fruit ya know?" she said padding into the kitchen.
Flack followed her with his eyes, he hated having nightmares, he couldn't imagine how Gus dealt with them about every night. He felt bad for not waking her that night she slept on his couch. He felt he had failed her somehow.
"It's your brain working itself out, you know," Gus called from the kitchen while steaming the milk. Flack didn't respond. She came back in a few minutes later, handing him a mug and sitting back beside him. She set her mug down and turned back towards him. "They will go away, I promise, Don," she said her eyes wide and concerned.
"Yours didn't," Flack pointed out, wrinkling his brow.
"They did for a while," she countered.
"But then they came back," he said with a hint of despair.
"Not without a trigger. They've gotten better lately, I guess I gave you my insomnia and my nightmares," she stated wryly.
"You need to get better at your gift giving, sunshine," Flack said, arms folded across his chest.
"We already talked about gift giving in my family. But fine, what do you want a pony?" Gus remarked poking at him.
Flack had a brief roll in the hay comment flick through his mind, but shoved it back into his brain's recesses. "I'll get back to you," he finally said grabbing the finger that she was poking him with, "would you stop that, you are as bad as my sister."
"Sorry," she mumbled, trying to pull her hand back from his grasp with a flash of thought that she didn't want to remind him of a sister, ever, and then she felt a tingle from him holding on to her hand and then she felt heat rising in her belly and then she pulled back and said, "I gotta go to bed, night, Flack," and practically ran to her bedroom.
"What the hell?" Flack murmured after her, "I don't think I will ever understand her," he said, wandering back to his bed in the office.
Chapter 30: Who's Gage
One weekend in August, with all her friends at work and feeling more than a little stir-crazy, she bounded over to where Flack had his nose stuck in another book, "come one you are turning into an egghead like me, let's go for a run in the park!"
"Gus, it's really hot out there," Flack remarked, turning a page.
"Hot, you don't know from hot boy, you ever even be down to the swamp in the summer?" Gus bounced on the cushion beside him.
"No, I don't like that much heat," Flack said partially telling the truth, the other part was he didn't like to run unless chasing someone. Though he supposed in theory, he would be chasing her...he shook his head.
"Come on, we can take it all slow, I'll buy you a, what Yankee term do you have for Sno-bliz... icee, snow cone?"
"Insulting what I call things up here in the north is hardly a way to convince me to come, besides you seem to have had enough sugar already." Flack was amazed how she always seemed to have at least three things going on at once. She should learn to relax.
"Come on, you big lug, I was kidding. Let's go," Gus yanked on his arm, but since Flack was already getting up, she overcompensated and they both fell back onto the coffee table in a heap. "Oof," Gus said trapped under Flack's weight.
"Are you alright?" Flack asked, staring down at her.
For the briefest of seconds, Gus got lost in his eyes, "I would be better if you got off of me," she replied, finally.
"Right, sorry, but you were the one tugging on me," Flack said getting up slowly.
"I know, let's just go." Gus could feel her face turning as red as her tank top.
Later at the park, Gus noticed Flack trailing behind, thought about stopping but knew he would hate that, so she decided to slow her pace. A small dog chose that moment to dart between her legs, clothes lining her and taking her down in her second fall of the day.
"Oh my precious thing, are you alright?" she heard a saccharine voice coo.
Who ya calling precious, Gus thought and then realized the woman was talking to the over groomed bundle of fur barely larger than a rat.
"You should really watch where you are going, there are very valuable dogs here, just because they aren't at eye level, doesn't mean they are not special and my Pookie here is very special!"
Gus' fruitcake alarm bell went off, "you are very right, I am sorry about that-" she started when Flack caught up behind her
"Is everything okay here?" he asked with his cop voice on.
"Hmm why yes, except she," the woman holding Pookie looked at Gus like she had crawled out of a dumpster, "fell over my darling precious, but I am certain we will both be fine." She devoured Flack with her eyes, but Gus barely registered this as she was picking asphalt out of her palms. Flack didn't notice it at all, watching Gus pick at her palms. The woman gave one more look at Flack and said, "but we might be better with a drink, would you care to join us?" she trilled.
This got Gus' attention, she popped her head up and glared at the woman. Flack noticed a scrape on Gus' cheek, "I don't think so," he said coldly, "in fact I think you might be better with a leash, seeing as there is a law for that."
Flack gave the woman one of his death stares until she finally she said, "well, fine," and huffed off. Gus was attempting to put herself back in order on the side of the path.
"That was a nasty fall," Flack remarked coming up to her.
Gus flipped her hair back through her ponytail holder, smoothing it down, "I've had worse."
"Somehow I believe that, but you have a scrape," he said tracing her cheek lightly with his finger.
Gus gulped, his finger seeming to send a tremor down her spine. "I'll be fine, I just might have to go as slow as you, now," she said jerking away and heading back to the path.
Barely five minutes later, a woman running by with a jogging stroller caught Gus' eye. "Don't tell me you are getting baby fever there, Broussard," Flack stated following her gaze.
"Good Lord, no! But I think"- Gus took off in a sprint.
"Wait up, sunshine!" Flack said trotting behind her.
"Tamara Hughes Bruno?" she called to the attractive woman up ahead.
The woman stopped and turned, "Augusta Broussard, oh my god!" she squealed. The women embraced.
"You and Phillip are in New York now, how the hell did that happen?" Gus said to Tamara, finding it hard to picture this woman in New York.
"Long story," the woman tittered, "but after the storm his practice went to hell, so we took a chance...and there is this little guy," Tamara gestured to the baby in the stroller, sleeping peacefully, "this is William."
"Adorable," Gus appropriately cooed, "how old?"
"Three months, a Katrina baby."
"I heard there was a lot of those," Gus said standing back up from her crouched position by the stroller.
"So how are you, you look fabulous, you are all buff and you are here...you had an uncle here or something didn't you?" Tamara stood looking effortlessly composed and not at all like she had just had a baby or was running full speed through the park on a blazing hot day.
"Yeah, he helped get me a job with-" Gus was cut off by Flack.
"Whoa ,sunshine, are you trying to kill me?" Flack said catching up to them. Tamara shot her a interested and slightly devious look.
"Tamara, this is my partner Detective Flack with the NYPD. Flack this is my friend Tamara Hughes Bruno, from New Orleans."
"Pleasure to meet you, detective, good to see that the NYPD stocks them as handsome as I had heard. August and I were in the Krewe of Iris together," Tamara paused, something clicking. "You are police officer now?" Tamara sounded stunned.
"Er, not really I am a staff psychologist with the NYPD."
Tamara looked at the two of them, "so um, what about Gage. I can't believe you got him out of the south, I had heard some rumors, but you know how the N'Awlins grapevine likes to twist things."
"Natchez," was Gus' one word steely answer.
"Oh, yes," Tamara looked slightly flustered, realizing her faux pas. "Well I hate to run, but I need to get William back for a feeding, but do give me your card, Augusta."
"Sure thing, here call me anytime, I have an ungodly amount of free time."
"I know, they don't have nearly as many social engagements here do they?" Tamara said with a swish of her perfectly glossy hair. "Well, we are off, fabulous to meet you detective and to see you again, Augusta." After a peck on Gus' cheek, she was off and running again.
"What just happened?" Flack said as they started walking again.
"What do you mean? I knew her from New Orleans."
"But this is New York," Flack replied, dumbfounded.
"We have a way of finding each other, one time on the tube in London I ran into someone I knew, Kings Crossing too, it was amazing," Gus chattered away feeling horribly uncomfortable.
"Does everyone in New Orleans know everyone?" Flack asked incredulously.
"In certain circles, pretty much," Gus sighed, not liking his curiousity.
"What the hell is the Krewe of Iris?" Flack said, working though the conversation he had just overheard, feeling like he didn't understand half of it.
"Oldest all female Mardi Gras krewe in the city, I didn't start riding until not that long ago except for the year I was a maid in Proteus, but I didn't really want to be. You have no clue what I am talking about do you?"
"Not one bit." Flack was already having a lot of trouble keeping up, and now it was if Gus had just started speaking a different language.
"You have no idea how much joy that brings me," Gus said breaking into a huge grin. "I can't believe she kept calling you Augusta."
"It's what people do there," Gus said feeling a little nauseous all of a sudden.
"And the three name thing?" he said with a wave of his hand.
"Three is nothing, not to mention they make your 'junior' look like a drop in the bucket I have met fourths, fifths, even a sixth once."
"That's just weird," Flack said with a shake of his head.
"That is deep south lineage, and I am so happy to no longer be stuck in it," she sighed.
"Who's Gage ?" Flack asked next.
Gus skidded to a stop, "crap," she muttered stepping off the path and leaning against a tree. Gus leaned over, her hands right above her knees and tried to not hyperventilate.
"What, I know not dead, you said something, Natchez?" Flack wracked his brain, trying to think if he had heard her mention that name before, but he couldn't recall it.
"That may be worse," Gus quipped, "Gage Fontenot, who was a fourth by the way, was my asshole chauvinistic fiancée in New Orleans until a couple of days before the storm hit."
"You were engaged?" Flack was flabbergasted.
"Painted into a corner is more like it," Gus replied, suddenly intrigued with split ends in her hair.
Flack didn't stop staring at her. "Aren't engagements usually cooperative?"
"It is a long story," she said, ducking him.
"I've got all day," Flack said leaning beside her on the tree.
"You aren't going to let me ignore you on this one are you?" Gus knew she had little choice but to come clean. She didn't want to though. She was horribly afraid of what Flack would think of her if she told him about Gage, and she was horribly afraid with herself for caring about what he thought of her.
"Not a chance in the world on this one, sunshine." Flack's relaxed posture made it clear he had did have all day and wasn't going to let her off the hook until she told the whole story.
"Fine, here is the short form: I was working with OPP and I met this asshole attorney in court and it was hate on first sight for me but he saw me as a challenge."
"Imagine that," Flack couldn't help but quip.
"Watch it, Flack. Anyway, he courted me whole-hog old-fashioned style, which bugged the hell out of me by the way, and I still refused to go out with him. I knew his kind, they are a dime a dozen in New Orleans, but more importantly I knew about him and his pampered Garden District family. Old society all the way, garden club and debutantes and being Rex, that is what they were all about. Eventually, he wore me down and a agreed to go out with him. On our first "date" he informed me that his friends had bet him that I would never go out with him and that his parents were about to revoke his trust if he didn't marry someone soon. I know, a real romantic. Let's just say he had enough personality disorders to know exactly what to tell me right when I needed to hear it, And I was in a dark enough place to believe him instead of my gut and I stupidly found myself engaged. Yes, I was drunk, in case you wanted to ask, it was at a coronation ball. Once he got that ring on my finger, he thought it was time for me to stop working with the NYPD or with the courts or with DV vics and definitely no Red Cross work. Next thing I knew I was doing private practice and in the friggin' junior league."
"Hold up, I am trying to both understand and picture this," Flack said leaning toward her and flicking a lock of hair behind her ear, "so then what happened?"
"About three days before the storm he said he was leaving, I said I was staying, he told me to not be stupid called me a few names, told me he was sleeping with his secretary and to not expect him to be faithful, so I slapped him across the face and he split my lip with his damn Tulane ring. I told him I never wanted to see him again. He found somebody about 5 seconds after being in Natchez who wasn't a challenge and got married last Christmas," Gus finished, trying to appear flippant.
"Are you serious?" Flack could not get this to match up with everything her knew about the woman before him, he also couldn't believe any man in his right mind would have left her behind.
"As a heart attack. It was probably the best thing to happen to me in the long run," Gus tried to be nonchalant, but she felt like her stomach was being gnawed at by a pack of nutria.
"I gotta say he better not ever make his way up here!" Flack wanted to protect Gus will all his being.
"Don't worry he doesn't think anything exists north of the Mason-Dixon line."
"No wonder you don't date," he remarked with a heavy burst of air.
"Yeah, well," she heaved a sigh, "if you could not tell anyone about this, I would appreciate it."
"Your secret is safe with me, but after hearing that story, I think you owe me a drink!"
"Fine by me," Gus said walking off.
Flack came up and put an arm around her. "Are you going to be okay?"
"Always am," she said, ducking out from under his arm, only because she enjoyed being there so much.
Walking home after their drink, Flack slung his arm around her again. "You deserve better than an asshole, you do know that right?" he said squeezing her.
"Yeah I know, they just kind of find me," she said playfully bumping his hip.
"Just don't let them follow you home."
"I can't, you're there,"she grinned, "for now at least," she finished wistfully.
"About that," Flack cleared his throat, he had been dreading telling her this, dreading it being real since he got the call. He didn't know how something could bring him such happiness and sadness at the same time.
"Hmm," Gus couldn't actually verbalize anything, because she caught that something big was coming.
"I'm cleared for desk duty." Flack let it hang in the air.
Gus turned to him, "Don, that's great, that's amazing, congratulations!" she hugged him excitedly, "I am so happy for you," she squeezed once more and let go.
"Thanks sunshine, but it is only desk duty and you keep telling me how much that sucks. I guess I will be out of your hair soon, then."
"Yeah, I guess you will, "Gus remarked, a storm cloud crossing her face.
"What? That's not a good look." Flack hated that look, but he was oddly relieved to see it.
"I dunno, it's just-"" she shuffled and looked down at her feet, "it will be weird not having you around all the time and since you'll be back at work and we just, we really won't be partners any more and I- " Gus stopped, feeling a whole lot of emotions she couldn't deal with wash over her.
"You what, you're gonna miss me aren't you?" Flack taunted her.
"Maybe. Yes. So what?" She was going to miss him, like an appendage, and she didn't know how to deal with that. Gus also knew she didn't want him knowing how much this was effecting her, so she just shrugged.
"Nothing, just wanted to hear you say it," he replied with a warm grin spreading across his face.