Character(s): Flack, Angell
Pairing(s): Flack/Angell
Rating: K+
Summary: "Well, rest assured, I do not want to see your scar." Flack and Angell meet for the first time.
Warning(s): Nil.

It was Jessica Angell's first day on the homicide squad without Benton breathing down her neck, scrutinising her every move, ensuring every report met the exact requirements set by the NYPD. Although his insight into the inner workings of the squad had been invaluable, the pressure he put on her to be perfect was definitely something she had looked forward to working without. But now, all three perps were on their way to central booking, and all she had left was a pile of paperwork, DD5s to complete and statements from the first responders to trawl through, trying to understand what the hell they were talking about.

She pushed back from her desk, striding through to the locker room, ignoring the leering looks from men old enough to be her father. Jess had grown used to the stares, the wolf-whistles and the cheap chat-up lines. It irritated her when a cop paid more attention to her ass than the body in front of them, but any other time she could deal with it. Hell, her looks even came in useful sometimes when interrogating – there was nothing better to make a killer confess gloatingly than trying to impress a beautiful woman.

The locker room was deserted, save for one man stood by his locker, unbuttoning his shirt. Jess recognised him from somewhere, but she couldn't quite place it. Instead, she headed straight to her locker and entered her combination. But to her irritation, the locker refused to budge. She pulled it a few times, before slamming the heel of her hand against it in frustration. The man pulled on a white wife beater and stepped over, knocking the locker door just below the combination lock with his elbow, opening it with ease.

"Just takes a little practice." He explained with a smile.

Jess was caught in the startling blue gaze, transfixed by the intensity. "Um, thanks." She tore her gaze away, face colouring slightly.

He stepped back, leaning against the lockers, allowing her space to change. She stripped off her vest-top, her back to him. Just as quickly, she pulled on a green t-shirt, and sprayed some deodorant before shoving everything back in her locker, slamming the door shut. "Since you've just watched me change, I think I should at least know your name." She informed him.

He chuckled, ducking his head as he nodded. Jess was stood at full height, he was hunched over slightly, and he still looked down to her. "Don Flack. Junior."

She nodded, a smile flickering across her face. Donald Flack Senior had lectured at the Acadamy a couple of times, and his name was everywhere, if you looked. He was a living NYPD legend. And she knew Don Flack, though only partially for the same reasons. Though Flack was known as a 'spectacular detective' (her Narcotics Captain's words, not hers), he was also infamous as a serial flirt. Though she was also aware that just about any female cop would give their right arm to get a taste of his charms. She, however, was not one of them.

"Jessica Angell." She replied casually, refusing to fall at his feet as so many women - and men - did.

He frowned slightly. "Cliff Angell's girl?"

"Uh-huh. Why, you know him?"

He nodded with a smile. "Sure, used to work at the same station as my father. Used to put up with me running around causing trouble with his boys when he brought you all in. You used to sit there in the corner sulking 'cos you were too little to join in."

She winced at the embarrassment of the situation but quickly reverted back to her usual attitude. "So you were the one that used to upset me as a kid, then?"

"You were three," he argued. "I bet you didn't even know who I was, until I told you my name and you worked out who my dad was!"

He had a point. "Maybe. Guess you'll never know." She informed him with a smirk, folding her arms as she leaned against her locker.

Flack Jr. seemed intrigued by her. He leaned closer, a curious look in his eyes, studying her with interest. "Jessica, huh? I wasn't aware that someone'd been transfered to our squad."

"Actually, I was Benton's charge. Probation's up, so I'm fully instated." She paused a beat, before continuing. "I was brought in to cover the slack while you... recouperated."

A dark look clouded his face. "Lemme guess. Now you wanna see my scar?"

She seemed mildly disturbed by this. "Um... no, not really."

He looked surprised. "Really?"

"Why the hell would I want to see your scar?" She demanded, confused by his response.

He beamed. "Good. It's just... most people just wanna see the scar, and I'm kinda sick of telling 'em 'no'."

"Well, rest assured, I do not want to see your scar."

Flack pulled a shirt out of his locker and buttoned it up quickly. "Who was your mentor?"

"Benton." She replied with a smile. Benton had been meticulous and irritating at times - not to mention a damn perfectionist - but he'd been friendly with her father back in the day, and kept an eye out for her, not just in her work but in the squadroom too.

"Good guy." Flack commented. "Not too fond of me, though."

"Why?"

He grinned sheepishly. "I, ah... hit on his daughter, once... I didn't know they were related!"

A slight chuckle escaped her lips before her phone rang loudly. "Yeah, Angell."

Flack watched her from his position, leaning against the lockers, arms folded. There was a smirk playing across his lips and a twinkle in his eye.

"Oh-kay... Yep, 'm on it."

"Case?"

"Woman found in a trash can in the Bronx." She sighed, re-opening her locker - with considerably less difficulty - and grabbing her jacket. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Flack."

He gave her a genuine smile. "You too, Jessica Angell."

"You sticking around?" she asked casually.

He shook his head regrettfully. "Nah, I shouldn't actually be back. Still got a week of sick leave, but I'm back next week." Flack guestured to the balled up shirt on the banch in front of him. "Scagnetti just spilt coffee all over me."

"Well, see you around then, I guess." Angell left the locker room with a bizarre feeling in her stomach. Something told her work was about to get a whole lot more interesting...