Chapter 31: Shielded

The rest of the summer seemed to just disappear. Flack moved out the third week of August. So on the one year anniversary of that horrible storm, Gus found herself alone in her apartment, trying to avoid all the crap on the news and dreading Claire's birthday and the anniversary of her death coming on its heels.

She was surprised when her phone rang that night with Mac on the other end asking her to meet him. She was pleasantly shocked to find not only Mac, but Stella, Lindsay, Danny, Sheldon, Don, and well, maybe she wasn't so happy about Jessica Angell, but they were all at the bar and grill when she arrived.

"Y'all," she said, almost bursting into tears.

"We kept seeing the news today and you were cloistered in your office," Stella said.

"We didn't think you would want to be alone," Lindsay tacked on.

"Thanks so much," Gus said slipping into the empty seat between Mac and Flack.

"Miserable without me yet?" Flack whispered at her.

"You've only been gone a few days!" But god yes, Gus added silently to herself.

After they had eaten and were sharing a pitcher or two, Mac cleared his throat, "I have a little present for you, Gus since you have been in New York for almost a year and all," he set a bag in front of her.

"It better not be one of those damn I heart NYC shirts, I hate those things," she snapped.

"Dually noted," Hawkes replied.

Why was everyone looking so damn happy? Stella's eyes were sparkling and Lindsay was bouncing in her seat, Danny was rubbing his hands together. Gus carefully drew out the tissue from the bag, looking into it, feeling a weight but not seeing anything, until finally at the bottom, she gasped.

"Really, no joke you aren't kidding me?" she said pulling out the brass shield.

"I wanted my dream team back and Flack shouldn't be on desk duty too long. We are phasing you back in starting tomorrow, but you have to clear your case load on your own," Mac warned.

"No problem," she said throwing her arms around Mac's neck and burying her face in it. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou!" Mac froze and the team laughed. "Sorry, I am just a little excited!"

"Obviously," Danny teased.

"You'll be partnering with Detective Angell for a few weeks, working in tandem on cases," Stella said.

Have my friend break that news, nice move Uncle Mac, Gus thought.

"See, I'm not replacing you, I actually am looking forward to working with you, the team speaks very highly of your use in the field," Angell said, graciously.

Why did she have to be so damn nice?

"Thanks, you too, I'm sorry I was a bitch before."

"No problem, I can be one too."

"Not our dear Angell!" Hawkes interjected.

Was that, could something, Gus studied the two of them, sitting beside each other. Hmm, they would be cute together...not as adorable as Lindsay and Danny who still seemed to be holding out...maybe she needed another night out with Danny to smack some sense into him...

"Wanna share a cab?" Flack asked her a while later after the team started to disperse.

"I guess, I was going to walk though," Gus admitted, not ready for the night to end and not wanting to miss a minute of time with him.

"I'll walk with you then," he suggested.

"Sounds great," she said, wondering what this was about as they said their good nights to the rest of the gang.

"You know I know how to get home, and I barely had anything to drink." Gus couldn't figure out what was going on, but she knew she was feeling horribly out of control and didn't like it.

"I know." Flack just shrugged, sticking his hands into his pocket, playing with change.

"What's this about then?" she couldn't stand not knowing. He shrugged. "Don, come on, what's up I can tell something is!" He mumbled something she didn't catch. "Come again?" she asked.

"I miss you," he said, very softly.

"You're a dork!" she cracked up while equally feeling as though she was floating about fifteen feet in the air, he actually missed her.

"Living with cousin Bobby sucks, he steals the bathroom, he leaves towels everywhere, he's got crazy women over all the time and he can't cook!" Flack admitted.

"I spoiled you, didn't I?" Why was she so happy having spoiled him? Why did she want to keep spoiling him, she wasn't the housewife type.

"Yeah, you did," he dimpled at her.

Oh yeah, that damn dimple had a lot to do with it, Gus thought saying,"yeah, well you're all better now, so the gravy train had to end eventually." Flack didn't respond, he just stood there in front of her apartment morosely, hands still stuck in pockets. "I can still cook for you, ya know." God she just wanted to...well she wasn't sure what particularly she wanted to do but she knew it involved his hands not being in his damn pockets and on her.

"Yeah, I know." Flack was afraid to say any more, didn't want to take his hands out of his pockets, wanted to throw her over his shoulder and carry her into the apartment like some a caveman.

"Alright then, glad we cleared that up. And you can come hang out any time Bobby drives you too crazy. I mean if Mac wants us to be partners again, we have to have each others' backs right?" Gus slowly grinned.

"Right," he smiled back and drew her into a unexpected hug, "come're. Congrats on getting the shield back," he wanted to do so much more than hug her, but holding Gus tight brought him more comfort than he cared to admit.

"Thanks," she said muffled into his chest, "you know, you smell a lot better now that you are back at work," she said sniffing him. She wanted to imprint his scent on her memory, she also wanted to crawl underneath his skin right about now, but she had to do something to break the tension.

"Always with the jokes aren't you, sunshine?" he said letting her go.

"Don't be a stranger, ya' hear me, Don?" Gus said giving him a quick peck on the cheek and letting herself into her building.

"I won't," he called after her.

Gus quickly got to work trying to clear her case load. She set up back-to-back appointments for pre-hires and told them if they missed they were automatically getting a disqualification in her book. "You can't show up for an appointment, you won't show up when it is needed," she said. She went directly to any officers that had fired their weapons in order to pin them down to get an appointment. She pulled them into supply closets and interrogation rooms on the spot if they wouldn't give her a time. She sorted through the cold cases and categorized them, she even conned McNair into taking a bit of her caseload. By the time she sat down to a dinner with Mac two weeks later, her case load was a lot emptier.

"How's it going, Gussie?" Mac said as she breezed into the restaurant remarkably on time.

"I am all good, I am cleared with the exception of three pre-hires and crossing my fingers that I don't come up in rotation for clearance evaluations, I am hoping the boys in blue can keep their guns in their pants!" Mac smiled wryly. Gus thought something looked different about him. "What about you Mac, how are you doing?"

"I'm fine, Gus," he said, not giving her anything else.

"It's just...I didn't talk to you on Claire's birthday and I felt bad about that." She felt horrible about getting caught up in her own stuff and wanted to be there for him, he had been through so much and deserved someone to look out for him.

"It's fine, Gus, you are allowed to have a life." Why this poor young woman had to hold onto guilt? She always burdened herself and Mac couldn't figure out why, she defied science, that was for certain.

Gus shrugged and played with her food, "I know that, but...this year seemed a lot harder with...stuff."

"It will get easier, you have had one hell of a year, Gussie." Mac still wasn't sure Gus had processed the past year.

"Not as bad for me as for some," Gus responded, refusing to take pity.

They sat eating for a while when Mac calmly stopped, putting down his fork and knife. "Gus I have something to tell you."

"Oh god, don't tell me you have cancer, you're not dying are you?" Gus started to feel dizzy, drained her wine glass and tried to breathe.

"Gus, Gus, calm down" Mac said covering her hand with his. "I just wanted to let you know that I have started...seeing someone."

Gus fell back in her chair in relief, "that's fine by me, you are allowed to have a life as well."

"I just thought you should know, as it is something that could become...serious."

Gus studied him for a minute, chewing on her bottom lip, "it's not Stella is it? Because that would be kinda weird for me and girls' night."

Mac smiled showing no teeth, "no it is not Stella."

"Who then, you barely leave the office, unless you met her at Cozi's..." Gus pondered this.

"No, Gus. I expect you to keep this in confidence as it is someone from the department. Her name is Peyton Driscoll and she is an ME, she recently rotated up from nightshift. I wanted you to know since she may be around, but I am not prepared for anyone else to know. Anyone else," he stressed.

Gus snorted, "Mac, I deal in secrets like bankers do money, you know that."

"I am aware, I just wanted to be clear."

"Clear as glass, can we get dessert now, because I am coveting that cheesecake?" Gus said, pointing at the display case.

Chapter 32: Pay Cut

The next day, Gus finished up the last of the pre-hire interviews and went to drop some evals on the precinct Captain's desk. "Here you go Cap, I am all cleared of charts!"

"Good to hear that Doctor, or is that Detective Broussard again?"

"I hope so, in fact..." Gus smiled and sat down, "I want to be full time in the field if that's possible, sir."

"Just homicide?" The Captain looked up from the file he was reading. Dr. Broussard certainly was a force to be reckoned with. She had cleared her case load in an extremely short time without cutting corners. Hell of a background too.

"It's what I feel I am best at, working with the CSI team." Gus knew there would be some resistance.

"True, true, but you do have an extensive background in crisis counseling," he pointed out.

"Which is excellent for dealing with witnesses," she countered.

"You also do have a knack for getting officers to open up," he pressed on.

"All the better in interrogation don't you think?" she countered again.

"You are going to have an answer to everything aren't you?" He hoped so at least, Lieutenant Daddino had been pestering to have her in solely homicide for some time now. Both of them had be disappointed to hear about her reaction the day of the bombing, but they also understood it and had done similar hotheaded things back in their younger days.

"Probably," she said, charmingly.

"You know you would have to give up your office and be in the pit with the rest of homicide, like a regular detective."

"I can have my office cleared out by the end of the day," she replied with a smile.

He was convinced, but he couldn't help but see how she reacted under continued scrutiny. "Some people might not like having a psychologist among them, Broussard."

"If I can handle prisoners, I can handle a few ruffled feathers, sir."

"Listen, Daddino wants you under his command, has for a while, but I can't promise you that you will always be working homicide, we might have to pull you for hostage negotiations or undercover work, we don't have a lot of young women on the force and you have unique capabilities."

"I can understand that." Gus hoped his answer was yes, but didn't know how many conditions she could take.

"But seeing as you already have alliances with the forensic team and with Detective Flack, I suppose I can grant you and Lieutenant Daddino your wish."

"That is fabulous and exactly what I hoped to hear. Thanks, Captain!" Gus was practically glowing and floating.

"But Broussard, this will mean a pay cut, detectives do not make a psychologist's salary," he warned, thinking obliging her would actually help the precinct budget.

Gus stared at him squarely, thinking of her father. "I'm not in it for money," she said.

"Good, that's what I hoped to hear. I'll get the forms done up then. You can have until the end of the week to clear out your office. Go see Daddino to get you a place in the pit, hopefully he can find you some place that won't piss off too many people."

"What else is new, Cap? I can handle it," Gus beamed.

Gus was working on clearing out her office, perched on the edge of her desk in high heels trying to get a diploma off the wall when she heard, "you're gonna have to get more sensible shoes, sunshine, if you are going to be out in the field all the time."

"Oof," Gus responded, the diploma coming loose, along with a good bit of drywall, as she fell back onto the desk.

"They'll take that out of your paycheck if you don't patch it," Flack said leaning against the wall flanking her desk.

"Well that's freaking fabulous considering a just took a huge pay cut."

"Huge, damn I should of stayed with you longer, I didn't realize I had a sugar mama," Flack teased.

"That's cause you didn't," she glared at him.

"You really wanted to be in the field that bad?"

"And tell me, how much are you enjoying riding a desk, Flack?"

Flack raised his eyebrows, "I see your point, but how are you gonna live Miss Gramercy Park?"

"I haven't quite figured that out yet, but thanks for reminding me. It's too bad I don't have a free place to live," she chided before continuing, "I'll be fine, I have options," she finished, slightly relieved that she had put as much down on the co-op as she had and had done a lot of the renovations herself. Not to mention Bobby had cut her a good deal, though she now wondered how much Flack had to do with that. But even with that, Gus had the feeling that her savings account and what was left of her trust fund may start to dwindle rapidly.

"You could get a roommate," Flack suggested, seeing the anxiety creep into her expression.

Why did he say things like that? "Like who? You ain't moving in with me," Gus said aloud, though she was thinking much the opposite.

"I wasn't saying me, you could take Bobby off my hands, though." Flack mentally kicked himself for saying anything, it wasn't like he wanted to move back in with her...well maybe he did, but that was beside the point, what he mainly wanted with her was all-access pass.

"Ha ha," Gus dryly remarked trying to quell horribly decadent fantasies involving Flack being her sex slave.

"What about Lindsay?" Flack's voice brought her back to the present.

She shook her head, "I think Lindsay likes living alone, as much as I do."

"Well then, Miss Independent good luck to you."

"I'm not that bad am I?" She rather liked being independent and she hated that men had issues with that. "Maybe." Flack rather enjoyed her independence, though it did sometimes extend to a fault.

"Fine, I'll prove it to you," Gus pointed to the stack of boxes of books, "you can give me a ride home. You aren't helping me carry them though, because I know you still aren't supposed to be lifting."

"See that doesn't really prove anything too me other than you like me for my access to wheels."

"I like you for a lot of reasons, blue eyes, your wheels are just one of them." The words popped out of her mouth before she knew it and it had Gus wondering where her candor had come from.

Flack looked stunned for a brief moment and then smiled at her. "It will be nice having you in the pit, sunshine, but try to get a desk near mine so I can protect you from the assholes I work with."

"What are we in fifth grade? I have met these guys before, I can handle myself."

"Yeah but you knew them a shrink-sorry-psychologist and then as a sort of cop but they just looked at you like you was consulting. This is gonna be an adjustment, for everybody."

Gus hopped down off her desk, "for you too, you mean."

Flack shrugged, "it's gonna be different that's all, not bad, just different." He stared at her unnervingly, "I'll try to not get too jealous with you out there in the field and me still riding a desk."

"I give you two more weeks tops, you have been kicking ass. In fact," she said walking over to him squeezing a bicep, "you might be in better shape then you were before."

"Ahem, am I interrupting anything?" Detective Angell asked from the doorway.

Flack looked slightly guilty but Gus didn't let her comment take effect, "nah we're good, I was just telling Flack here that since he has been laying off the donuts he had buffed up. And he scoffed at my healthy food," Gus grinned at the woman, knowing she was being underhandedly territorial and knowing Flack would not get her dig but Angell most likely would.

"Don't let him fool you, he was stuffing his face with a couple of Boston creams earlier," Angell quipped back.

'Nice volley' Gus thought.

"Don't let her fool you, she can cook some if the richest food I've ever had," Flack retorted not catching the exchange at all.

"I just came by to tell you that Loo said he'll have your desk set up Friday and wanted to know if you wanted to keep your extension."

"Tell him whatever's easiest."

"Will do, looking forward to you being down there, need some more estrogen in the place." Angell broke into a smile.

She was much more approachable when she smiled. Gus felt a need to extend an olive branch, "Hey, Jess, you got plans tonight? I can show you how to make my special margaritas."

"You never showed me how to make your margaritas," Flack butted in.

"A girl is allowed to have secrets, Flack."

"Thanks, but I got other plans, assuming I don't get another call out." Angell was looking forward to actually being able to potentially have a 'normal' date.

"Another time then," Gus said, feeling slightly relieved.

Chapter 33: First Day

Gus couldn't sleep between Thursday and Friday, she was too excited. Something about back out on the field, as a full detective, it was as if she was a kid about to go to Disney World for the first time. So when her phone rang at six in the morning she was wide awake to answer it, "Broussard," she chirped happily.

"I was expecting your voice mail, sunshine." Flack was stunned she had answered, but then again she rarely slept.

"I've been up for a while," she admitted.

"That excited to be back, huh?" Of course Flack had to admit he was excited for her to be back and working in homicide as well. It was part of the reason he had been up for a while and was calling her.

"You could say that but what are you doing up calling me so early?" Gus didn't mind it, it just seemed odd.

"I have to be in for seven and I wanted to wish you luck and tell you to not let the boys kick sand in your face," he teased.

"I'd kick it right back," she countered.

Flack laughed, "I'm sure you would, but since you're up you wanna grab breakfast?"

"Sure." Gus was trying to play it cool, but she could think of no better way to start her fist day as a full detective.

"I'll swing by and pick you up then, and Broussard, tell me you are wearing something that buttons all the way up?"

Gus looked down at her tailored shirt, "yeah, why?"

"Because these boys can't handle you as it is. See you in fifteen."

Gus was waiting outside when Flack pulled up, he surveyed her as she got into the car. "That'll do I guess" he said after she climbed in.

Gus looked down at her black pants, buttoned up light blue camp shirt and as sensible as she was over going to get shoes. Her jacket was folded over her arm, "what are you my dad, what's this all about Flack, I have been in the field before, I know how to dress in an all-male environment, I used to work with prisoners, remember?"

"Yeah, fine." Flack figured it had to be fine, because she could be wearing a burlap sack and still look unbelievably sexy.

After breakfast and on the way to the precinct Flack suddenly said, "can you run in those heels?"

"Yes Flack, I can also stab you in the eye with them, not to mention good police work is about not having to run. What the hell is this all about?" Gus was equally agitated and flattered that he cared so much.

"I just have some reservations." And some issues with sharing you, Flack thought.

"Why now?" Gus couldn't figure out where this was coming from.

"Some of the guys were talking the past coupla days about how you are sort of a princess." Flack did not add about the other very graphic comments they had made about what they would like to do to her, comments he very much did not appreciate.

Gus snorted in a very un-princess like fashion, "are you sure they have met me?"

"I'm just saying you had your little office with your charts and your appointments, so to some of the guys they don't know if you are gonna cut it full-time out there."

Gus struggled to take in air, turning to Flack she demanded, "and what about you Flack, do you think I can make it full-time out there, because if you don't have faith in me, I may as well just turn in my flipping resignation!" She was obviously riled up.

"Of course I have faith in you, I am just saying expect some ribbing," he answered.

"I get the boys club Flack, I have played in that sandbox enough."

"I know you have but-" Flack started to explain he was only worried because he cared about her, but luckily she cut him off.

"Just drop it, Flack. Go in, I'll be in a minute."

"You sure?" He had kinda hoped to go in with her, he wanted to deflect as much crap as he could for her.

"Go!" she demanded.

Technically Gus had an hour before she was supposed to report in, but she figured it wouldn't hurt to be somewhat early, she just refused to walk in with Flack, she wasn't riding his coattails anymore that she was Mac's. She walked down to the newsstand and bought a paper and a pack of gum. Then she got a coffee. Tapping her foot impatiently, she hoped Flack was already in and at his desk. Twenty minutes later she was walking into the pit.

"Oh, look it here, princess is early on her first day, wonder if that will keep up?"

"Morning to you too Parker, how's your sister?" Gus asked very innocently but with a knowing glare at him. Parker had revealed to her in a session that his sister had recently announced she was a lesbian and the family wasn't doing so well with that news. Gus knew it was a low blow, but she also knew she had to get the upper hand quickly, and she had not revealed anything in her remark.

"Damn shrink," he muttered, but thought she might not do so bad if she was that quick on her feet.

Gus looked around her head held high, Loo's door was closed, no wonder he had told her to be there at eight. She felt insecurity inching up her spine.

Another detective came up behind her, "Well well, I do hope you will be sitting close to me so we can get to know each other better," he leered.

Oh god, it was too early for this she inhaled and then dropped her chin and looked up at the detective with a coy look, "depends Thatcher, have you had all your shots?"

She let a slow grin spread across her face as Thatcher looked at her confused, "why?"

"Because I'm a biter," she said turning on her heel as Thatcher turned red.

"Damn, girl!" "Oh ,she got you." "I'm liking princess already." A bevy of comments trailed behind her.

"You done?" Flack asked from behind her, so much for deflecting.

"Haven't even started yet blu- Flack" she said catching herself, somehow she was betting cute nicknames didn't fly as well in this arena as they did in the lab.

"Well give it a rest so I can show you your desk," he said dragging her by her arm, "and put your jacket on, before you give Parker a heart attack."

"You have got to chill out or you're gonna- what the hell, Flack?" Gus said when he pulled her up to a desk that was facing his, "did you do this?"

"No, though it is probably for the best if the past few minutes have been any indication, it was Daddino's idea."

"Fine," she said seething. She set her bag on the desk, heard a snicker, paused and said, "hey Thatcher, switch chairs with me."

"No way, why?"

"Because I know better," she replied, taking stock of the pit.

"What are you talking about?" Flack asked.

"You wanna see, you switch chairs with me," she said, jutting her chin towards his.

"Fine." Flack wheeled his chair over and swapped them, "I don't see what the deal with a chair is."

"It's not the chair, Flack."

Flack sat down in the chair rocking back and forth, "see perfectly good chair, Broussard."

Gus caught a smirk from some of the boys out of the corner of her eye, "Just wait, you'll see."

It only took about fifteen minutes for one of the arms to fall off. "What the hell?" Flack said, half falling over as he had been leaning on the offending arm.

"Told ya," Gus said looking up from her computer as she was software training.

"Musta just been loose," he replied, giving her a look.

"Sure," Gus said not believing him for one second.

The back followed the arm to the floor about five minutes later. "You have got to be kidding me!" Flack said, "that wasn't cool at all!"

"Chair issues Detective Flack?" Lieutenant Daddino asked as he chose that moment to walk in. "I see you are here and settled, Broussard, I like your initiative."

"If that's what we are calling it these days," muttered Detective Thatcher. Gus didn't respond, either did Daddino.

"How did you know?" Flack asked her as soon as the lieutenant disappeared into his office.

"I've been hazed before, this is nothing new," Gus shrugged, "I'm going to get coffee, you want anything?"

"Nah, I'm good."

"Oh my god you guys call this coffee?" Gus said to detective standing by the machine. "It's like..."

"Oil?" he interjected.

"Sludge from hell is more like it," she grimaced.

"What are you gonna do?" he said wandering off.

"Bring better coffee in," she said to thin air.

Just then Angell walked in, "Oh hey, Broussard."

"Um, you can call me Gus. There are a million Broussards in Louisiana, like Heberts or Landrys, so first names or nicknames actually used more prevalently, keeps down on the confusion..." Gus trailed off, realizing she was babbling.

"Er, okay, but I usually go by Angell," the other female detective replied.

"That's cool," Gus said, feeling like an idiot.

Angell could sense her discomfort and tried to ease things by saying, "so you discovered how bad our coffee is here in homicide?"

"It is foul," Gus exclaimed.

"I know, I usually sneak mine from special vics, they have much better coffee and there is more women up there."

"Probably why there is better coffee, I'll keep that in mind," Gus said with a smile.

"I heard you didn't fall for the chair trick," Angell said, admirably, she hadn't been as lucky her first day in homicide and told the other detective as much, "tried it on me too, however I didn't catch on until after the arm fell off."

"Boys," Gus sighed.

"Can't live with them, can't live without them," Angell replied.

"Oh look the hens have already found each other," announced a newly arrived detective.

"Hey asshole, we are going to be partnered," Angell said to the pompous detective who had just come up to them.

"Well that outta be interesting, like the mascara leading the tampon," he sneered, cursing affirmative action. "You just wish you could partner with me don't you, Gonzales?" Angell said shoving him out of the way.

Gus just stared him down until he looked away first and then she marched back to her desk. She noticed a box sticking out from underneath the training binders already covering the laminate surface. "What on earth?" she exclaimed poking at it gingerly.

"Don't call tactical just open it," Flack said in a very low voice.

Gus slid the box between two binders and flipped the lid off without drawing attention to herself. Nestled inside was a leather covered memo book. Embossed on the bottom corner of the cover was a small fleur-de- lis. Her heart suddenly felt tight and she struggled to not make any reaction. She lightly traced the embossing before flipping open the book, on the first page was written You'll do fine, sunshine, just don't show 'em your tattoo. -F

"How do you know about my-" she said a little louder than she meant to. A couple of people turned their way, so Gus just buried herself in a training manual.

"Navy sweat pants," was his quiet response a few moments later.

Flack was referring to his navy NYPD pants she had stolen while doing laundry and he hadn't quite forgiven her for her swiping them. But she loved how comfortable they were and had spent plenty of time curled up watching bad movies with him in them and apparently they also showed off more of her hip bone then she had been aware of. Gus chewed on her lip to keep from breaking out into laughter.

"While I am sure those training binders are fascinating, our number just came up. 10-29 homicide at Leroy and 7th Ave, think its a bum who got rolled," Angell said coming up behind her.

"Lovely, let's go." Gus dropped a slip of paper on Flack's desk on the way out.

"I wonder which one of them is driving?" "God helps us with either one."

Flack leaned over his desk, and unfolded the piece of paper, he hoped they would be all right out there, though both could hold their own. He couldn't wait to be back out on the street. Blue eyes, even you weren't supposed to see my tat, though I guess I have seen yours, assuming I have seen them all...thanks for the memo book and the overprotective act -G followed by a small sun.

Flack smiled to himself and heard Thatcher remark, "what's so amusing over there, Donnie boy, could you see down her shirt or something, and if you can how much to trade desks?"

"Shut your hole," Flack said, eyes blazing.

"Aw, Flack, I forgot she's like your pet project or something, huh?" chimed in.

Flack tightened his jaw and flipped open a case file refusing to give in to his temptation to deck both of them.

Gus and Angell spent a good part of the day trying to track down witnesses to the homicide, but most people try to not see the homeless, so it was rather frustrating. Lindsay and Danny were equally frustrated but unlike the two detectives, they had too much potential evidence.

"He is covered in hair, trace, fibers, bugs, I don't know where to begin," Lindsay said.

"How about with this rock?" Danny said, gesturing with the bloody rock in his hand, "I'm betting that's what made this dude's head collapse."

"Probably so," Lindsay said beaming up at Danny.

"Ah, young love over corpses," Gus muttered.

"What?" Angell asked.

Gus just waved her hand at the two of them, "that star-crossed pair over yonder."

"Ah, I see," Angell said, trying to not laugh at Gus' southernism.

"Well they don't, so maybe you could clue 'em in, I've given up hope," Gus replied.

Angell laughed and then sighed, "how can no one have seen anything?"

"You know, I'm betting this park is a resting spot for the night, isn't there a soup kitchen a few blocks down from here, we might rustle up some witnesses there?"

"Good idea, I knew I would like working with you," Angell said with a smile, gesturing for Gus to lead the way.

By the time they made the collar, it was late, very late. Getting the homeless to cooperate was hard enough under the best of circumstances, but their main witness seemed to be in a state of paranoid delusions. Gus was able to make sense of the story enough to make it cohesive and make sense to both Angell and the evidence. Everyone else was gone for the night and Angell was trying to make it to her blind date before he thought he had been stood up. "Well, I guess it is just me and me," Gus said, tucking her memo book in her desk, with one last look at it before closing the drawer and heading out.

She went home, heated up some food and was relaxing in a deep bubble bath with a glass of wine when her phone rang. She thought about not answering it but realized that wasn't an option anymore as a full detective. "Broussard," she sighed.

"Hope I'm not catching you at a bad time." Flack really didn't care if he was, he hated that he had to leave before she got back to the precinct.

"Oh, hey," she said with a big yawn, "nah, I'm just in the tub trying to not fall asleep or drop the phone in it."

Flack shivered as he thought of Gus lounging in her big cast iron tub, one leg hooked over the side, mounds of bubbles everywhere, her body slick with- he shook himself, it was the same damn fantasy he had every time he looked at that tub when he was staying there or every time she announced she was going to take a bath. A slight groan escaped his throat.

"I know, this is my fifth phone, Stella has already made fun of me," Gus said thinking he was about to chastise her.

Flack cleared his throat, "I just wanted to see how your first solo case went."

"It wasn't solo, it was with Angell."

"Fine first case as a full-time detective not with me went," he corrected.

"Lock, stock, and not one smoking barrel," she said sleepily. She told him about the case and about her collar.

"Glad to hear that," he replied, full of pride that she done well on her own.

They were each silent for a moment then, "dammit!" Gus yelped. "I just dropped my wine in the bathtub!"

Flack had to laugh at that, "you really are a mess, you need me to come help tuck you in so you don't kill yourself?" he joked.

"Yes," Gus muttered to herself, 'for starters', she thought.

"What?" Flack said, trying to figure out if she had said what he though he heard.

"That won't be necessary, though I am in danger of falling asleep in here if I don't get out now," she replied, pulling the drain plug while thinking, 'and I'm up the creek if I keep having all these thoughts about you'.

"I'll let you go then," Flack said disappointed that he was having to hang up.

"It cool, I can dry off just fine while talking on the phone, hell I used to change clothes while driving."

Flack was caught up in both images and was both aroused and amazed, "wow are you not dead? he asked.

"I have many talents," Gus said, her voice muffled by her towel.

I only hope I can further explore them, Flack mused to himself and then to Gus, "you did good on holding your own today with the guys."

"Did you have any doubts?"

"Nah, not really," he admitted.

"I have a feeling they aren't going to let up anytime soon though, huh?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"Probably not, sunshine." Though he would have a little man to man with anyone that gave her too much trouble.

"Well, I can take it." At least Gus hoped she could.

"Better than anyone else I know, sunshine."

"Thanks," Gus replied, happy he couldn't see her blush.

"It's the truth," he said, hearing the embarrassment in her tone.

"Are you working tomorrow?" she asked him, hoping the answer was yes.

"Nope, not while still on desk duty, I just might miss having weekends off, but I miss being out there more." Flack silently added, 'especially since I won't be there to keep my eyes on you'.

"What you really miss is me cooking for you," Gus said, throwing back her covers and slipping into bed. F

lack overheard the rustling and said, "I think you're phone is breaking up, your building sucks."

"That was my bed covers, you dolt, and you seemed to like my building just fine for how long was it?"

Flack didn't respond, imagining messing up those covers with her, hell even just slipping under the covers with her to hold her and he was not a snuggling kind of guy. Where was his head, he needed to get laid, that must be it.

Gus could here Flack breathing so she knew the line hadn't gone dead, "you still with me or did you fall asleep"?

"Still here," came his strangled reply.

"Well I have to work tomorrow, but I was going to see if you wanted me to make you food on Sunday if you weren't going to your grandmother's or didn't have a hot date to take to brunch or something."

"I don't do brunch," Flack snipped.

"Down boy, I wasn't saying you did. Breakfast, lunch or dinner but not brunch, what do you want?"

How about all three served in bed, possibly off of you, he thought and practically had to slap himself from not saying it out loud. "I dunno, I'll have to let you know. Look I'm ah going let you go now since you have to work and all," Flack said rushing to get her off the phone. He wasn't sure how much longer he could talk to her without showing up on her doorstep and ripping her clothes off.

"Night to you too, Flack," Gus said to the dead line. "Why the hell do I miss having him here so much"? she said aloud to the empty apartment.