Chapter 75: Cooties and Closet Space

Gus headed upstairs, trying to not feel emotional. She poured herself a stiff drink, put on some music and curled up on the couch, lost in her thoughts, and wishing she could breathe through her nose.

It was then she heard the knock on her door, light, but persistent. She peered out the peephole and wondered what he was doing back here. She opened the door and gave him a look, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

"I know you said you wanted to be alone, and I'll go, but I wanted to give you this," Flack said shoving a bag at her.

"Ow, hot!" she said nearly dropping it and barely making it to the table.

"Sorry, shoulda warned you," he said sheepishly.

"It's fine, come in, you big lug," she said while peering into the bag."Is this soup?"

"Chicken noodle, best cure for what ails you" he said, reaching into the other bag, "And cold medicine. Nighttime, daytime, all the time, I brought you an assortment. I also noticed you were almost out of Kleenex."

Gus couldn't take it. "Why are you so damn nice?" she said, fighting back tears.

Flack was bewildered, being nice was making the toughest girl he knew go all weepy, she must be sick. "Because I am a sucker for you, Gus, why do you think I got angry about the vest thing?" he said pulling her towards him for a deep kiss.

She tried to pull away, "I don't want to get you sick!"

"I don't care," he said pulling her back.

Gus slept fitfully, she also kept shivering, even after Flack piled all the covers on top of her and curled around her so tightly, willing over all his body heat. Right before dawn, Flack pulled her to him once more and then realized her skin was on fire. She stirred and rolled over, "I don't feel so good," she croaked, her eyes glassy.

"You're burning up," Flack said feeling her, "you have a thermometer?"

"Bathroom," she said trying to breathe and sit up and failing at both. "I hurt" she whimpered, as Flack came back with the thermometer.

"103, Gus, that isn't good. I don't want any arguments, I know you have this thing about hospitals, but I am taking you, at least to a doctor," he said turning to her armoire and throwing sweats at her. She whimpered and starting coughing. "You could boil water on your head, you look like hell," he said.

"Great," she said continuing to cough, trying to stand and falling on the bed.

"You can't even stand, I'm taking you to the emergency room."

"I am not!" she protested.

"What is your deal, Gus?" Flack demanded, "no one likes hospitals."

Gus stared at him, knowing he wasn't going to let up unless she told him the truth. "I kind of got trapped in the prison ward of one during Katrina...it didn't end well," she said, her eyes going glassy with more than just her cold.

Flack could tell her walls were coming back up and ran his hand through his hair. She never would go into the details of what happened her during the storm, and he could only guess. Now with this knowledge, he wasn't sure he could handle knowing. He sat on the bed beside her, gently putting his arms around her. "Gus, sunshine, I didn't know. Look I'll call Bridget and see if she can get one of the doctors she works with to see you."

"Are you sure?" Gus replied, but she felt her heart swell. Flack tried to have as little as possible to do with that side of his family, it meant a lot that he was willing to call Bridget. His relationship with his mother and brother had gotten slightly less tenuous since the bombing, but it still wasn't something out of a Rockwell painting.

"Yes, I am sure. You need meds and a doctor that doesn't usually work with dead people. Besides, she owes you one for your free babysitting."

Gus looked at him, knowing he was right. She nodded, "okay fine, but I still don't have sick leave."

"Stop it with the sick leave, we have plenty of comp time, Gus," he said, ending the conversation as he pulled out his cell phone.

A few hours later, after who knows what Flack told their lieutenant, he brought Gus to a nondescript building by the children's hospital. Bridget was waiting out front for them, a coffee in one hand, looking frazzled, "you look terrible."

"Thanks, " Gus said, coughing into another tissue.

"Uh oh," Bridget said.

"What?" Flack asked.

"That's sounds very pneumonia like. Or worse." "Worse?" Gus exclaimed.

Bridget grabbed the tissue away from her, looked at the contents and sighed with relief, "good no blood means no TB."

Gus was in and out with the doctor in less than 20 minutes, clutching a prescription in her hand. She looked horrified at the amount of sick people in the waiting room, Flack had refused to even come inside. She met him back on the stoop, talking amicably with his sister-in-law. She cleared her throat gently. "I need meds," pointing to the pharmacy across the street.

When she came out, clutching a variety of antibiotics, decongestants and other various medicines in her bag, Flack asked, "what do you have, the plague?"

"No, Bridget called it, pneumonia, though he didn't do a chest x-ray."

"Are you even supposed to go to work, aren't you contagious or something?"

"I'll hunker down somewhere, don't worry. And if you are going to get sick, it's going to happen no matter what you do now, I tried to tell you."

"You can go home, I can cover for you."

"You got me to the doctor, don't push your luck!"

Flack still covered for her though, she just didn't know about it. She spent the next few shifts being buried under paper work and case consults, thinking Flack was just trying to keep her busy, not knowing he had told the lieutenant that she was sick but refusing to take off.

Mac heard her coughing as soon as she came in from the doctor's and set her up in a broom-closet sized office meant for interns when the department budget allowed for them. She was too worn down to argue, and overwhelmed by the outpouring of thoughtfulness from her co-workers. They all brought her home remedies from their youth, she was still trying to figure out whose was most disgusting, and tried to make convince her to go home.

When her antibiotics ran out and she still had the death cough, she didn't argue when the lieutenant demanded she go back to the doctor. Or, truthfully, she didn't argue after the threatened to put her on leave without pay if she didn't comply and come back with a letter.

She made an appointment with a doctor through Sheldon was able to get her in right away with over by Mercy.

"You have a lovely strain of resistant pneumonia, Detective Broussard," the doctor informed her looking over her chest x-ray. "I am giving you a strong dose of antibiotics and ordering you to three days bed rest at a minimum, you can't be exposed to anything that might cause this to spread."

Gus groaned but called her lieutenant, "it's your fault, if you hadn't ordered me, I would be at work!"

"You sure you aren't just trying to do some last minute Christmas shopping there Broussard?" "What are you talking about Loo?"

"Look at a calendar Broussard, Christmas is a week away! Take care of yourself so you don't end up in the hospital. I'll send your partner to your place with the forms, as I am sure he would be sick by now if he had your cooties."

"Cooties, sir?" Gus said into the phone, wondering what the lieutenant may be suspecting, but he had already hung up.

Gus spent the next few days feeling like death warmed over in her apartment, Flack spent the next few days snapping at everyone in the department who tried to call his partner a slacker while the team spent the next few days trying to wrap up cases and make plans for a Christmas party.

"Gus could be really useful right now," Stella muttered, trying to make a list of supplies, "didn't she used to throw parties and fund raisers in New Orleans?"

"Yeah, she did. Though I would feel bad about having her plan a Christmas party," Mac shrugged.

Stella stared at him, waiting for more of an explanation. "Gus' birthday is the day after Christmas, and she hasn't really celebrated either since her parents...Claire would always make an effort, but she would shut us down. I don't know how many plane tickets got returned to us unused."

Stella saw the anguish flicker across Mac's face. "How can she not celebrate her birthday?" Lindsay exclaimed as if they had just informed her Gus was from the moon.

"Her parents were killed shortly before Christmas," Mac said a note of anger in his voice. Lindsay's face crumpled, Danny shot Mac an evil look.

Flack still insisted on attempting to take care of Gus. She wasn't sure if she was flattered or annoyed at the attention. "You know you aren't getting any right?" she said, full of snot and looking miserable wrapped up on her couch when he stopped by in the middle of his shift.

"Sunshine, come on, that isn't what this is about," he said, pulling a soup container from the bag he had brought with him.

"I was just checking," she said, hacking into a Kleenex, "I don't want you to feel obligated."

Flack gave her a look of annoyance and tried to keep his cool, "you kill me sometimes, how are you so stubborn?"

"I just am." Gus wasn't in the mood for discussion, though she was flattered that Flack still had come by.

"What is all this?" Flack asked picking up a dusty green book from the coffee table.

"Albums," Gus replied, sneezing for what felt like the five millionth time.

Flack noticed the grime on his hand and that the book wasn't green but red, "What the hell?"

"Katrina grime, I didn't move them out right away, they got shipped later, just got out the box from my storage locker to find some pictures for Reed."

"Sunshine, moldy books aren't gonna help your pneumonia."

"Well seeing as I am bedridden by that evil doctor this close to Christmas, I have to be creative in my gift giving."

"I thought you told me you weren't big into gifts in your family," he teased.

"I'm not, but, well, I dunno, I just thought Reed might," Gus couldn't get her words out and it was frustrating her, in addition to her cold medications making her loopy. "Dammit!" she shook her head.

"Calm down there Gus, you have plenty of time."

"I was just trying to get all the pictures out to put in those photo boxes," Gus said gesturing, "but I kept wanting to pass out."

"No wonder, do you even know what is coating these?"

"Not really, I think it's better to be one of those don't ask don't tell kind of things."

"Speaking of which, you think that might continue with your uncle?" Flack said rocking back and forth on his feet.

"Mac?" Gus couldn't think straight.

"Last time I checked he was your only-"

"Flack, don't be snarky right now. I don't know, I can't think clearly. I just need to rest, I guess I will be a last minute shopper like everyone else," Gus leaned back with a sigh.

"Look, why don't you just take it easy, I'll come by at the end of my shift and take all these photographs out of the albums for you so you can get better and come back before I have to kill one of the guys for calling you a slacker."

Gus was irked, "Slacker? How dare they, I work harder than-"

Flack cut her off with a kiss, "forget about it. And after you have a nap, call Stella, she needs some party planning help," and with that he was gone back to keep the snowy streets of New York safe while Gus tried to not sneeze her brains out in her apartment.

Flack did come back at the actual end of his shift, much to Gus' amazement. "What, they don't let you work without a partner now?"

"Slow day, thank god and everyone's on tap right now" Flack said coming in and unwinding his scarf, taking off his coat, hanging things on the hooks by the door. Gus smirked at him. "What?" he asked catching her look.

"Nothing, just make yourself at home," Gus replied her smirk turning into a smile.

"Matter of fact, I did bring a coupla suits",

"Good because otherwise I was going to have to buy all of what I saw online today to fill up the space I cleared out."

"You still fine with this?"

"What's a couple of suits? And I like having you here. Liked it when you did actually live here before. Though I have to say, I like it better now," Gus said climbing off the couch and wrapping her arms around him with a kiss.

"Some one is feeling better," Flack said, ruffling her hair.

"Long nap, hot shower, great meds and calming Stella down did me wonders"

"As did putting those books in the plastic tubs, I would bet?"

"Yeah, I think I would rather give Reed something every college kid wants anyway!"

"What's that?"

"Beer money!"

Flack grinned but then his face fell, "so I don't get to see photographs from your past?"

"No, not now at least. Maybe one day," Gus grinned at him, "now you hungry, I made a stew." She padded toward the kitchen.

Flack caught the wonderful smells wafting from that direction. "Watch it woman, or it's gonna be more than a few suits."

"Don't press your luck," Gus said, pulling fresh bread out of the oven, "but go and get your suits".

Gus finished up dinner preparations while Flack went to his car. He brought the suits in while she was still in the kitchen and took them to the bedroom. Flack peered at the myriad of things he realized he had never seen her in and had two thoughts: why hadn't he and how had she not frozen?"

"Quit pawing my pretty things and come and get it, Flack" Gus said from the doorway, "and I am not giving up any shoe room unless you want to pay rent," she said on her way out.

"Why does that not surprise me?" Flack said, hanging his suits up and sliding the door closed.

Chapter 76: Lab Rat Christmas Fluff

Flack dug into his food with gusto and exclaimed,"wow this is good!"

"Well hitch on up to the trough," Gus retorted bemusedly.

"You been hanging out with Linds too much there, Gus?"

"Yes in all my extra free time, though she did mention wanting to get together when I called the lab today."

"Thanks for that, Stella was in a lot better mood after you called," Flack quipped.

"She should have been, I convinced the bistro right around the corner from the precinct to open up after hours to host a little CSI holiday party, though I think I can wrangle you an invite if you are really nice."

"Cute, we already were invited though", Flack smiled and then lowered his eyes into his bowl.

"What, what's that about?" Gus said not missing a beat.

"You alright with the whole Christmas celebration thing?"

"If you recall, I am Catholic and that does mean Christian ergo Christ ergo Christ Mass, duh, obviously you were never an alter boy," she teased.

"In fact I was but..." he trailed off before he continued, "Lindsay told me she put her foot in her mouth around Mac today."

"What does that have to do with me and Christmas?" Gus thought maybe she needed another dose of medicine to follow the conversation.

"About your parents, you never said when or how they were killed," Flack leaned back and studied her, but her stare remained unwavering.

"December 21st, five days before I turned 13, four days before Christmas. I came home from the last day of school before break with a straight A report card and my mother dead in the kitchen, Christmas cookies burning in the stove. My father never came home from his shift that day. He had been shot in the sixth district sometime around lunch," Gus stated this like she was reading it from a report, her eyes and voice cold, "Claire kind of fell apart, so I was sent to board at Sacred Heart, where luckily I already had been a day student. After that, Christmas and my birthday were never a big deal to me."

Gus tried to shrug it all off, but Flack could tell her wounds still cut deep. He reached across the table to grab her hand, "Gus, I am so sorry."

"I've had years to deal with it Flack," she said drawing her hand back and into her lap. "And tell Lindsay not to worry, I don't have anything against Christmas, and I definitely don't have anything against parties."

"So when is this little shin dig gonna take place?" Flack asked her, helping her load the dishwasher.

"Friday night, because Linds is flying to Montana on Saturday, though she is coming back Christmas day, I wouldn't even bother, but I guess she had the air miles," Gus laughed.

Flack smiled, "It's good to hear you laugh."

"And not hack up a hairball afterwards? Yeah, I rather enjoy that," Gus said washing her hands off, "here's to hoping the doctor gives me the okay at my appointment tomorrow."

"You are going willingly?"

"Only because I want back to work."

"Of course," Flack said, dimpling down at her.

Gus did get the all clear to go back to work even if the doctor did insist on taking more blood work and telling her to take it easy. Gus rolled her eyes, like cops could ever take it easy. She was back in the precinct, waving her letter in front of her Lieutenant's face by that afternoon, five days before Christmas. "Fine, whatever, but unless shit hits the fan you are staying in the precinct, I don't want you out in the snow and then suing the department," he said leaning back in his desk.

"I wouldn't do that, Loo," Gus protested.

"Don't worry we got plenty of scumbags that need questioning here, but go see what your nerd squad is up to first."

"You mean the scientists from the CSI lab, sir?"

"Don't get cute, or you will be riding a desk for a long time," he replied, not meaning it for a second, she was too good for that. Frankly, he would put her in the field with pneumonia and a broken ankle but procedure was procedure.

"Feeling better?" Mac asked her when she entered his office.

"Much."

Mac debated what to say. "You really should take care of yourself."

"I try, I swear. I usually don't get sick sick, just injured."

Mac tried to not smile at the truth, "Fine then Calamity Jane. Thanks for helping Stella with the party planning."

"No problem, and Mac, I really am fine, I love party planning, no matter what time of year," she gave him a sincere look that melted his cold exterior a bit.

"What are your plans for this year, Gus?"

Gus became entranced with her feet, "Er, I don't really know yet. What about you?"

"I planned on a nice dinner with Peyton, if we can still swing reservations, I just don't know if she would prefer eve or day."

Gus swung her head up and broke into a smile, "she forgave you, sucker!" Gus said with a laugh. "I'm pulling a wicked shift for Christmas anyway, don't worry about me, have fun. Though if you see Reed, I have something for him," Gus continued.

"Maybe you should give it to him yourself," Mac countered.

"I don't want to push."

Mac chuckled, "that's something new."

Gus smiled at his chuckle, she still wasn't sure what she thought of Peyton entirely, hadn't spent that much time with her, but she did know her uncle seemed happy.

"You and Flack will be coming to the party right?" Mac asked.

Gus weighed if it was baited or not, "I had plans to come, shift ends at 8 and I'm not allowed to leave the precinct so..."

Mac watched her closely, he didn't feel comfortable asking her straight out, more because he didn't want her to lie and figured she would. He rescued her instead, "I think Danny might need someone to play good cop on a suspect with him."

"Right away, boss," Gus said smiling and heading out the door.

Two days later, Gus was fidgeting through her shift, making the guys not out on calls nervous and trying to figure out where to put all her energy. She was feeling much better and had not had much of an outlet for it. Giving up on work for the moment, she bounded down to the gym and tried to work out her energy there, it didn't help. She realized what she was really craving wasn't going to be a possibility for at least another few hours and suddenly she didn't want to go to the CSI party as much as she wanted to go home with a certain blue eyed partner of hers.

She closed her eyes and went through her reps, trying to ignore the horribly naughty thoughts she was having when she heard, "usually people aren't so happy about working out there, sunshine".

She blushed and nearly dropped the weight bar, "er, Flack, hey, what's up?"

"Couldn't find you, phone wasn't picking up but knew you had to be in the building. I got a suspect I can't crack with my flirtations and was hoping you could. But first I want to know what you were smiling about," he gave her a sly grin.

"That would be patently against the rules, detective, but know it was very good and I am feeling much, much better." Flack gulped watching her wipe off the bench and head to the towels, having to restrain himself with ever bit of willpower to not follow her into the shower. "Stay were you are, dirty boy, I'll be out in five," Gus called over her shoulder.

"How do you always know?" he mumbled.

End of shift came and Gus slipped into a very not work appropriate red satin dress. She figured it was the team and not a full office party, so why not? Her best clothes saw little wear now that she was a full-time cop. She adjusted the 40's style halter dress and swiped on a coat of vampy red lipstick. Her hair had dried into waves, which she finger combed through while slipping into high sandals.

She was just about to slip into her trench coat when Parker caught sight of her, luckily no one else had seen her. "Va va va voom princess, hot date?"

"Glad you approve Parker, but just the CSI Christmas party," she twirled around.

Flack had slunk into the room and saw her twirl, his breath caught in his throat, she looked amazing. "Whoa, all this for a little party, you trying to make me look like a slouch, Broussard?"

"Me, never," she flirted, slipping her last wrapped gift into her bag.

"Donnie, you better take her out on the town after so she isn't wasted with them boring lab rats, or I could take her ifs you want," Parker said, holding Gus' coat for her.

"I don't think that will be necessary, but thank you Parker," Gus cooed sweetly, catching the look on Flack face.

"Have fun you two, wait until I tell the guys they missed a real live doll in here!" Parker said walking off to get coffee.

"Shall we?" Gus said hitching up her tote and cocking a hand on her hip.

"We shall," Flack replied, looping his arm through hers.

Which was a good thing because it was a sheet of ice all the way around the corner and Gus still nearly slid through the door. "Always make an entrance, I say," Gus said laughing as she flew through the door Flack held open.

"Glad you are feeling better," Stella said.

"You look great," Hawkes said, admiring Gus as she took off her trench.

"That dress is fabulous, I want one," Lindsay squealed.

"You could heat up a corpse there, Augusta," Sid said, bowing formally and kissing her hand.

"Stop it all of you! It's just a dress. Obviously I have been in suits too much."

"You look fine in whatever, Gussie," Mac said coming over to give her a kiss.

Gus noticed that Peyton was as far away as possible from him given the layout of the room. Keeping it on the downlow, I know all about that, Gus thought.

Flack however seemed to have forgotten that and was staring at Gus any chance he got. Unfortunately, he noticed Adam appraising Gus a little too closely a couple of times as well. He had the urge to mark his territory, but knew Gus would just get upset. Besides, what did a lab rat have on him anyway?

Gus was oblivious to all of this, chatting with Lindsay and Sheldon while attempting to see if the bar could make a sazerac, but gave up going for brandy milk punch instead. They had one heck of a time for the next few hours: talking, laughing, dancing to cheesy Christmas music, Danny trying to chase everyone under the mistletoe. Mac came up to her a couple of times to "make sure she was all right" and despite wanting to smack him and tell him she was a grown ass woman, she found his concern endearing. Gus caught Flack's smoldering looks more than a few times and part of her wanted to make a hasty retreat, but the majority of her was enjoying being with her new adopted family. She was amazed at the difference a year could make. As the party was winding to a close, Gus passed out her wrapped packages, one trinket for each of the team: Mac, Stella, Danny, Sheldon, Lindsay, Sid, even Adam.

Flack looked a little crestfallen, but she whispered, "Don't look so sad Flack, you'll get yours on Christmas Eve, that is if I am still invited."

Flack looked taken aback, he had mentioned it and she had had avoided it, "Of course you are."

"I know; Sam has been emailing me, your grandmother called too," Gus laughed at the look on his face and turned back while the other's opened their gifts.

Each pulled out a ceramic plaque of a New Orleans landmark. "These are the places that most remind me of y'all from my old home, I hope to show each of y'all them in real life one day".

A chorus of grins and thank yous and you shouldn't haves and how sweets filled the air until Gus said, "Oh just shove it all of you. Now I have to go change my shoes, my feet are killing me."

Stella remarked, "Great shoes by the way, I could never walk on four inch heels though."

"Neither can I," Gus grinned, trying to not limp off out the door. Flack had slipped out ahead and was waiting,

"Tell me I get to take you home now?" Flack said pulling her around the corner. "Depends on who's house," Gus said reaching up and pulling him forward by this tie.

"Yours, no way am I letting Bobby get a load of you looking like this," Flack pressed her against the brick wall of the alley.

"I could agree to that."

"What else might you agree to?"

"You'll just have to see," she said sliding out from his hold and leaving him to watch her shimmy away.

"Damn girl," he growled, catching up to her.

Chapter 77: Flack the Halls

It was before even a hint of sunrise when both Flack and Gus' phones exploded, though the pair had been in a post-coital slumber with clothing strewn from the front door to the bedroom. "Broussard" "Flack" they both groaned into their phones while still tangled underneath the covers.

"Good news is you're back in the field, Broussard," the operator informed her. "Bad news?" Gus croaked.
"You and Flack drew first db. 50th and Fifth"

Gus thought for a second, "Saks? What time is it?"

The operator laughed, "St. Patrick's Cathedral and 5:14 by my count. Uniforms are on the scene."

Flack was already making coffee and in the shower by the time Gus unwound the sheets from her legs, she attempt to sneak in to join him. "I'm a detective Gus, just get in," he called from under the water.

"You're no fun," she said, slipping in behind him.

"Not what you were saying a couple of hours ago."

"Yeah, yeah, you know our sex life is really eating into my beauty rest."

"You can nap in the car and I would say it is worth it, wouldn't you?" Flack said flipping suds at her.

"Hey now. Yes it is," Gus replied, shoving him from under the spray and working conditioning shampoo through her hair.

"I don't know if I was done," he whined.

"You look done to me," Gus said not opening her eyes as she rinsed.

"Fine."

"The correct answer was ' you don't need beauty sleep' by the way there, Flack."

"You don't get to test me before coffee."

"As long as that goes both ways," Gus said turning the tap off and reaching for a towel.

The case took them through a couple of twists and turns and the rest of the day and most of the next, but they were done before Christmas Eve dinner at the Flacks. "You still up for this?" Flack asked, tying his tie in Gus' mirror, hair damp from the shower.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Gus said, pulling on a soft ivory sweater.

"Just checking. It can get a little chaotic."

"If I get overwhelmed, I know how to get back home," she said, slipping into her shoes.

"You look nice," Flack said surveying her dark red velvet trousers, ivory sweater, gold jewelry and heels.

"So do you," Gus said, tweaking the knot of his tie, "does Bobby know you brought clothes over here?"

"Dunno, why?"

"Might just be weird that you haven't stopped at home much lately."

"I've been working. He doesn't keep tabs, I promise," Flack said following her out to the bar while Gus frowned over her wine bottles.

"Ah this will do!" Gus said selecting a bottle.

"You don't have to bring anything."

"I already feel bad enough I didn't have time to bake cookies," Gus sighed.

"You're a cop, they will understand you don't have time to bake cookies," Flack said, helping her with her trench coat and leading her to the car.

Flack wasn't kidding when he said Christmas would be chaotic. They pulled up to his grandmother's house in Queens and despite the darkness of the night, Bobby and plenty of other cousins were on the front lawn playing football in the snow. They entered the house, and no one noticed them right away amidst the flurry of cooking, drinking, talking and laughing. Gus noticed a table now lining the length of the living room. She tugged on Flack's sleeve, "um, Don, exactly how many people are going to be here?"

"You never really know until we sit down to eat, why?"

"Do you see the size of that table?," Gus said pointing.

"Ah yes, the 'not so kids kids table."

"Er..." Gus said glancing around nervously.

"Where the kids who haven't had kids sit. I think the youngest is 16 up to my cousin and her husband who are older than us."

"And the actual children?" Gus prayed there wouldn't be that many.

"Well lucky for you, there aren't that many, they get shunned to the kitchen. Just like they are shunned to the basement right now."

Gus surveyed the surroundings imagining how loud it was going to get with children added to the mix, she wavered.

"Sam and Grams didn't mention how many people were going to be here when they asked you to come, did they?" Flack smirked.

"Um, no, Irene got me with prime rib," Gus said looking a little shell shocked.

"I know that look, the I desperately need a drink look," Sam said coming up to gather packages and wine form the pair. "Gus, I am so glad you are here!" Sam exclaimed drawing Gus into a big hug.

Gus froze, "um yes, thanks for inviting me," she stammered.

"Sis, go get my partner that drink," Flack said with a warning tone.

"I'm just glad she's here, it is nice to have more estrogen in the mix," Sam said walking over to the makeshift bar.

Flack snorted, "Good luck with that!"

"Hey now," Gus replied swatting him and then turned to Sam, "vodka and cranberry if you got it."

"Coming right up," Sam said, pouring a healthy swig of vodka into a glass.

Gus surveyed the family room covered with men staring at the television and yelling about sports. "Maybe this was a bad idea, I can still go," Gus said, heading for the coat closet.

"What are you talking about?" Flack was confused.

"This, being here with your family, it just feels..." she stopped searching for the word, "intimate" she finished.

Flack's eyes danced between amusement and annoyance. "You've met my family before, in the hospital, and after, you bailed my sister out of jail," Flack pointed out.

"That's different, that's not everybody, she wasn't in jail and that was before..." Gus flushed and started picking lint off of her pants.

"Before?" Flack said more amused now, thinking he knew where this was going.

"Before we started sleeping together," she hissed under her breath into his ear.

"Sunshine, I'm not gonna ravish you on the dinner table, so calm down. No one knows anything for sure. Plausible deniability."

Gus grunted but didn't know what to say. "I didn't bring presents," she finally spit out.

Flack grinned at her, "You think my family could do presents for all of us? We are the Flacks, not the Rockefeller's. Just drink your drink, it will be fine. I need a beer," he said leaving her in the hallway.

Just then a little girl with red hair and a party dress came up to her, "are you Barbie?"

"What?" Gus asked, spluttering in her drink.

"You look like you could be barbie."

"Nope, too many brains for that," Gus said tapping her head, "I'm Gus, I work with Flack." The little girl looked confused. "Er, Donnie Flack, um junior."

"You're a police officer?" the little girls eyes grew wide, "do you have a gun? My mom says guns are bad. I'm Tricia, I'm 6," she said this proudly, swinging her skirt back and forth. Gus sucked down the rest of her drink, debating what to say. "I'm gonna go play now," the little girl said, prancing off.

"You do that kid," Gus said looking stricken.

Flack came up laughing, "what is it with you and kids?"

"Just because they like me, doesn't mean I know what to do with them," Gus said and went to pour herself another drink.

"Grams has requested your presence in the kitchen. I wouldn't avoid her if I were you."

Gus took a long pull and headed off. "Augusta, I am so glad you made it, you look too pretty to help out though, so you just sit there," Flack's grandmother exclaimed as soon as Gus entered. The kitchen was full of chattering, drinking, cooking as it was, so Gus happily climbed on a stool. "I would introduce you around, but there is no way anyone can remember everyone in this clan," Irene Flack said with a smile.

Gus stayed in the kitchen, observing, until it was time to carry out the feast. The final count of people was around 40 as best as Gus could tell, babies and children included. The not so kids kids table ran out of room at 16, leaving a couple of angry cousins at the actual kids table.

After stuffing themselves silly and digging into desert, Gus caught one of them, Allen, storming through and giving her the evil eye. "I don't know if he is gonna forgive you for that one," Sam said to Gus.

"I didn't do anything!" Gus protested.

"Donnie doesn't bring people for Christmas, you make the count higher," Sam said biting into a slice of pie.

"One other person had to go too!"

"That's different, Eddie and Hannah just got married," Sam said rolling her eyes.

"Great, just great," Gus said wishing she had some brandy for her coffee.

"Leave Gus alone, frankly I was happy to have her here," Bobby said, smiling at Gus and narrowing his eyes at Sam.

"I'm just saying Donnie's never brought anyone home for Christmas, not even-OW!" Sam exclaimed. Gus would bet that Bobby had nailed her under the table, judging by the look. "Or Danny," Sam tried to cover up.

"Danny's mother has a thing about Christmas eve," Gus spoke up.

"More like Danny has a thing about the nine courses of seafood," Flack smirked, surveying the scene. He rather enjoyed how well Gus slipped into his family, once she stopped freaking out. He started with that thought.

"What's up?" Gus said, seeing his jaw tighten.

"Nothing, just thought I felt my phone buzz, it didn't." Gus didn't buy it, but didn't push it either.

"God I need a smoke," Sam said from the table.

"Me too," Gus exclaimed.

Flack's head swiveled toward his sister, "You're smoking now?" Flack screeched before he snapped, "I thought you quit!"

Sam and Gus both blanched. "Whoa, only occasionally and you used to smoke too, Donnie!" Sam protested.

"I did, last New Years as you may recall," Gus said.

"Oh live a little, dear brother, and don't give me the cancer talk, breathing gives you cancer!" Sam said, getting up from the table, "if you want one, I'll be outside, Grams does not allow smoking in her house, since Gramps died of lung cancer." She flounced off leaving Flack twitching at the table.

"I didn't know," Gus said, looking mournfully at Flack.

"Well, guess we both still have some family secrets," Flack said, patting her on the arm, "it was forever ago anyway." Flack smirked, "now come on, you look like you could use another drink."

He led her by the waist towards the bar in the family room when the red-headed girl from before came clamoring up. "Barbie Gus, you are under the mistletoe," Tricia said pointing.

"Barbie?" Flack questioned.

"Don't ask, let's just back slowly away and no one will get hurt," Gus responded, trying to back up but only managing to bang into Flack who hadn't moved.

"Nope, you have to kiss him, even if he is a gross boy," Tricia said, still swinging like a bell in her dress.

"You heard the little lady," Flack said, dimpling down at her with his eyes a gorgeous and melting cornflower blue. Gus looked around, noticed everyone was in a flurry of activity and leaned in for a quick kiss. Flack pulled her in for a deeper one, lifting her on tiptoe.

"Ew" Tricia exclaimed sticking her tongue out, "wait until I tell Connor!"

"So about that drink," Gus said, fanning herself, as he finally broke the kiss off.

Gus hadn't even took a sip when their cells starting buzzing in unison. "That can't be good," Gus said looking down, "weren't we on back-up back-up on call?"

"Haven't you ever heard of the blue flu sunshine? Happens nearly every Christmas Eve, last year it happened during little Mary Carstens solo and I didn't have my phone on silent, still get dirty looks whenever I go to church." Gus bit her tongue and was on the phone with dispatch. Flack gathered their coats, Gus' tote and yelled goodbye, waving to his young cousin who was performing before Midnight Mass, "knock 'em dead at the pageant, Connor, and don't throw up on whoever is playing the sheep this year!".