Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of CSI:NY, they are property of Anthony E. Zuiker and CBS.

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"Flack?"

My head is killin' me. I vaguely recognize the voice, but my head hurts too much to open my eyes. I'm slowly comin' around. My chest is killin' me.

"Flack?"

I open one eye, slowly. Then the other. It's completely white.

Aw hell. I died...but I was good enough to make it to heaven. I see bright lights. And then the face of an angel appears in front of me. Long hair, serious green eyes. I smile. God's got great taste. The angel reaches out for my hand.

"Flack?"

And then I realize that I'm not dead because I can feel her touch on my hand. Everything hurts like hell, but I ain't dead. The rest of the room comes into focus. I'm in a hospital. Stella Bonasera is sittin' next to my bed. "Oh, my God," Stella says. She kisses my forehead and brushes my hair back. "Welcome back to the world," she tells me. "Thought we'd lost you."

"What h-happened to Sassone?" I ask. I don't remember anything. Well, I remember her screamin' and hearin' a couple of shots, but nothin' after that.

"He shot you in the back. Danny shot him with Pratt's gun," Stella explained. "I'm sorry. I know how much you wanted to do it yourself."

I close my eyes. So it's over, then. "He's dead?"

She smiles. "No. Messer hit him in the leg. He's alive." She squeezes my hand. "He's gonna stand trial when he's recovered. Right now he's down the hall under the watchful eyes of Mac Taylor."

We got him, Pop. We got him for you. "Thank God," I say. I look at her. "And you're all right? Pratt and Dobson...they didn't-"

"They tried," Stella said. "Right before Danny burst in the door. Pratt's gonna think twice." She reaches down and tugs off her shoe. "These babies are a pain in the ass to walk in, but there's a few places they'll hurt worse."

I smile. "That's my girl."

"Hey, buddy," a new voice says. I look up to see Danny Messer, dressed now in a pair of black slacks and a white button-down shirt that's open at the collar. On his arm is Lindsay Monroe. She's dressed in a black dress.

"Hey yourself," I say. "You clean up nice."

He grins. "And you look like hell." His Lindsay smacks him in the arm and he looks at her. "What?"

"I guess I have you to thank for savin' my ass last night," I tell him. I hold out a hand. "Thanks."

He shakes it. "No problem. I'm just glad I got a piece of that sonofabitch myself."

"So now what happens?" I ask him.

He holds up two pieces of paper. "Train leaves in a couple hours. We just wanted to stop by and say thank you."

"Headin' west?" I ask.

He nods. "I hear Montana country is nice." He puts an arm around Lindsay's waist.

There's a knock on the door. I look to Danny's left and see Mac Taylor standing there. He's sportin' a few cuts and cruises, but otherwise, it's the same Mac Taylor. "Hey, Taylor," I say.

"Hey yourself. You're lookin' a lot better."

"Feelin' it, too. Thank you for last night."

He nods. "Doin' my job. I thought you should know that Ross's funeral will be tomorrow sometime. Figured you would want to be there. He'll be given a medal of honor," he tells me.

I close my eyes. "He'd like that. He always wanted people to be proud of him."

Taylor smiles. Then his face turns serious as he looks over at Messer and Monroe. "Do me a favor, Messer, close that door."

Danny steps inside, pulling Lindsay with him, and Taylor slides the door shut and closes the blinds. Taylor reaches one hand into his jacket. "I got a little something for you."

I close my eyes and squeeze Stella's hand. "Taylor, please don' tell me you're on the take!"

He smiles and pulls out a couple bottles of beer. I burst out laughing. "Taylor, you're my hero," I say as I'm handed a bottle. He also hands one to Danny Messer. He and Lindsay look at each other and smile.

"Yeah, well, we can't all be good guys all the time," Taylor says. "Drink up, you earned it."

"You know this stuff's illegal, right?"

"You gonna turn me in?"

I smile. "Nah." I turn to Stella, who's lookin' at me. "You wanna share some?" I ask her.

She responds by takin' the top off the bottle with her teeth. She flicks the bottlecap at me before downing part of the bottle. "Share that and a whole lot more," she tells me as she bends down to kiss me.

Damn, I do believe I love that woman. "You'd keep me around?" I ask her. "Smokin', drinkin', foul language, everythin'?"

She smiles. "They say a good man is hard to find," she says. "But I'm pretty sure I done all right."

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Author's Note: I gotta give a HUGE shoutout to all my reviewers. You guys are amazing. I'm SO glad this story went over the way it did. Maybe one day Don "Sam Spade" Flack will return...