A/N – Thank you to people who were nice about the last chapter, I still hate it but hey ho, I think that's life. Anyway, it's good for you guys cos I'm updating quickly for that reason.
Thank you so much reviewers, you're all so lovely and seeing your reviews makes me really happy. :)
Israel - Chapter Five
Flack descended the stairs to the morgue housed within the New York City Crime Lab. He hated it down there, the smell of death indescribable. It surrounded you, suffocated you and he felt like he was choking on it as the stench filled his nostrils. He shivered slightly, the temperature always low to preserve as much evidence on the bodies as possible. He didn't know how they worked down here; he'd never be able to stomach it. Death didn't scare him, it never had. Blood and gore had never once made him feel nauseous, not even on his first cases as a homicide detective, or the first time he'd seen a serious wound as a young officer on the streets. But down here, down here where the air seemed permeated with death itself, he felt he couldn't breathe. That he was choking, body starving to get out into the light again. He could see Sid through the glass doors, working intensely on a body on a slab. A body on a slab. That phrase always made him sick. Life after death. The soul gone, fled of its mortal shell; and all that remained, all that survived, was the thick lump of flesh and bone that had once been you. Been a person; a living, breathing human being. The emptiness of life, that was what the morgue made him think of. There was birth, the start of course, then life and then the end, death. But the morgue was 'after death', life and death's destruction, and that's why he hated it there. He could stomach death, that wasn't the problem, but he hated the coldness and loneliness of after it passed.
"Detective Flack, how nice to see you down here," Sid greeted him as the tall, lanky homicide detective made his way over toward him.
"Sid," Flack nodded.
"This is a rare treat, I don't often see you down here," Sid observed, an enquiring tone to his statement.
"Jo and Lindsay are still working on the evidence upstairs," Flack muttered. "And the others are working on that Vernon Smith case."
"Ah yes," Sid nodded. "Such a sad case. Wife came home to find him butchered to death. Can you even imagine that?"
"Some people are animals," Flack growled angrily as he imagined coming home to find Mac like that. The thought made him all the more closer to actually vomiting.
"They certainly are," Sid replied sadly. He moved away from the mutilated form of Vernon Smith and over to a second table where he drew back the sheet covering it.
"Christy Lombard," Sid remarked, staring down at the dead woman. "COD was a gunshot to the back of the head; I retrieved the bullet for you if you could be so kind to take it upstairs?"
Flack stared sadly at the dead woman on the slab. Forty-five years old, mother of three, divorced twice and worked as an emergency room nurse. There was nothing spectacular about her, about her life, just an ordinary, everyday person. Flack didn't know why the back of her head had been blown off with a Lupara. They'd found the gun in the bathtub of her small apartment, the body on the bathroom floor and Jo and Lindsay were in ballistics now testing it out."
"Sure," Flack replied as he took the bullet. "Any tox?"
"The basic screen showed up negative for opiates, amphetamines, marijuana, alcohol, and barbiturates. Toxicology will be able to do further analysis."
"Anything else?" Flack asked solemnly as he shivered again and briefly wondered if the spirits of the dead walked among them down in the morgue.
"I've collected the trace from behind the nails," Sid replied, handing the small dish to Flack. "The strange thing is there are no defensive wounds on her, no sign of a struggle."
"So she just let someone shoot her in the back of the head?" asked Flack in confusion.
"If Toxicology finds no drugs in her system then she must have been conscious. There is nothing else to suggest she was unconscious before she was shot."
"Strange," Flack mumbled as he turned from the body.
"Such is life, Detective Flack. Such is life," Sid replied.
Flack nodded and proceeded to leave the morgue through the glass doors.
"Detective Flack?" Sid called.
"Yep?" Flack muttered as he turned back.
"All going well with you?" Sid asked kindly.
Flack managed a small smile despite the discomfort he felt in the morgue. "I'm telling my sister tonight."
"Good luck with that then," Sid smiled.
Flack sighed and headed back upstairs.
Mac drew his coat around him as he turned the corner and walked down the sidewalk, dodging people as he made his way to his favourite cafe. It wasn't a glamorous place or commercial. Just a small, independent business run by a large Italian man by the name of Sal and the dozens of children he seemed to have. Despite being rather grubby looking on the outside it had an extremely loyal following and the same people could often be found in there. Sal made the best sandwiches that Mac had ever tasted, although it wasn't often he managed to get a long enough break to go there and enjoy them. Today was different though; unless Jo needed him he'd specifically set aside this hour to have lunch. The bell above the door gave a little dingle as he entered and the few people in there looked up.
Moustache man, as Don had Christened him the first time he'd joined Mac for a sandwich there. The old man with snowy white hair had a moustache so long that it curled round in circles and Don had wondered if he went in for competitions. The man with the newspaper. It didn't matter what day, what time, what month or even what year Mac visited, the man with the newspaper would inevitably be sat at his usual table by the window reading the same newspaper. It was dated March 5th 1962 and yet Mac had no idea what the significance of that date was. Why the man should read it over and over again. He'd never asked, it wasn't his place. People were free to do as they liked in society. The gaping ladies. That was another of Don's names. Two old ladies would sit in a corner nattering to one another about nothing terribly important. The reason Don had named them the gaping ladies was that neither of them had any teeth. Mac had never noticed this but Don had overheard Sal talking to them about liquidised sandwiches. Mac wondered why they didn't get false teeth; perhaps they simply didn't want the fuss. The lady with the hamster. She'd come in and take her pet hamster out of her pocket, putting it on the table where it'd sit and nibble at odd crumbs of cake she'd feed it. It never tried to escape or run away and Mac was sure that the Food Hygiene Inspectors would have a field day with Sal letting her in. But then, dogs were welcome and it wasn't like the hamster ever left her table. Finally there was crust man. Mac had named him that himself. He never bought a sandwich from Sal but instead would get a bag of crusts which he'd take to a seat and chew on until they were all gone. He might possibly have been homeless but he always insisted on paying for his crusts. All these people seemed to live such simple lives and yet be happy with it. It made Mac feel ashamed that his own life could be so complicated sometimes.
"Mac Taylor, I've not seen you here in a long while," Sal boomed heartily from across the counter.
"Sal. I'm afraid work has been busy," Mac replied a little sadly.
"People won't stop hurting each other, eh, my friend?"
"Something like that."
"The way of the world."
"Unfortunately," Mac murmured.
"So what can I get you? The usual?"
Mac smiled that Sal still remembered his order. "Thanks Sal."
"I'll bring it over."
"Oh, Sal?" Mac said, pausing on the way to his usual table.
Sal looked at him expectantly.
"Make it times two."
"Coming right up," Sal smiled.
Mac weaved his way between the tables to the one he always sat at. It was a small one set in the corner, away from the others and easy to miss for anyone who only glanced hurriedly around the room. Mac liked it because it was more peaceful there and he didn't have to put up with anyone taking notice of him. He'd only just sat down when the bell above the door gave a small dingle and Mac looked up. Danny Messer had entered the cafe and Mac waved him over.
"Mac, am I late?" Danny asked breathlessly.
"Not at all, I've only just got here myself," Mac replied.
"Good. Linds asked me to pick up some red cabbage on my way."
"Red cabbage?" Mac asked in amusement.
"Yeah, she's got such a craving for it at the moment. We've had slaw every night this week and now she's taken to eating them raw like an apple or something." Danny grimaced at the thought.
"How far on is she now?" Mac asked.
"She's five and a half months. You really should remember that as your wedding is a month before her due date," Danny grinned.
"It's soon isn't it?" Mac murmured.
"Nervous?" Danny asked.
"Not really," Mac mused. "It sounds terrible but I look forward to it being over. A wedding is just a show, a party that's really quite unnecessary. I look forward to my married life with Don, not the actual day."
"I think Flack's excited," Danny mumbled.
"I'm sure he is," smiled Mac as he thought of Don's excited face. "He's never done it before."
"You don't think it'll be as special because it's your second time?" Danny asked rather abrasively.
Mac paused for thought and smiled again. "No. I don't compare them. Claire and Don are two very different people. However I thought my wedding day to Claire was going to be the best day of my life. It was only afterwards that I realised it wasn't. Getting to wake up beside her every morning, knowing she was my wife, well those were the best days. And I look forward to having that with Don. I look forward to making if official, to the whole world knowing that he's my husband. To waking up with him every morning for the rest of my life."
Danny smiled and leant back in his seat. "Who knew you were such a romantic, Mac?" he laughed.
Mac arched an eyebrow at him. "I'm a man of many hidden layers, as Don says," Mac replied.
"He's got your number, alright," Danny laughed.
Mac smiled and watched as the man with the newspaper circled something in it.
"So I told Reed yesterday," he said conversationally.
"What did he say? I mean, did he know..." Danny drifted off, feeling slightly uncomfortable.
"He was pleased for us; he's very much a young man of the times. And yes he already knew about Don and me. He's stayed round a few times; those two are like a couple of kids when they get on Don's console, rather like you and him."
Danny chuckled. "That's good then. He'll be at the wedding?"
"He's got it marked in his online diary," Mac laughed.
At that moment a boy of roughly eight years old came over with a tray holding two coffee cups and a large pot of coffee. The tray was rather large for the small boy and the cups rattled terribly as he made his way to them.
"Papa says it's on the house," squeaked the boy as he gingerly placed the tray on the table, helped somewhat by Danny.
"That's very generous of him," Mac smiled kindly.
"He saw your ring, says it is a happy day."
Danny was taken aback as he swore he saw Mac almost blush. He looked down at the older man's hand and found it to be true. A plain silver band was visible around his left ring finger. Danny wondered when he'd got it and if Flack had one too. He was sure he hadn't the last time he'd seen the lanky detective.
"You Sal's kid?" Mac was asking the boy even though it was rather obvious he was.
"Sì, Signore. I am Este."
"And how many brothers and sister do you have, Este?"
"Eight older than me, Signore, and five smaller."
"Wow!" Danny muttered. And he'd thought one was hard enough.
"Papa says you are the big policeman?" Este enquired.
Danny snorted with laughter and Mac looked slightly bemused.
"I am a policeman. I work in the Crime Lab, do you know what that is?"
"No, Signore."
"It means I investigate the crimes and analyse the scenes."
"You catch bad men, Signore?"
Mac chuckled. "Yes, yes I do. And so does my friend here."
The small boy turned from Mac to Danny and stared at him wide eyed, mouth slightly agape.
"But it's mostly Mac, he's very clever," Danny laughed.
"Nonsense," Mac stated. "Danny here is an excellent crimefighter. Like a superhero."
Danny blushed himself as the boy let out an audible, "Wow!"
"Supereroe?" Este murmured.
"No, Mac è un supereroe. Cattura molti criminali e salva molte vite," Danny replied glancing at Mac as he did so.
Mac watched as the young boy turned back towards him, mouth still open.
"Este, Danny ti sta solo prendendo in giro. Egli deve mantenere la sua identità segreta. Promettimi che non lo dirai a nessuno?"
"No, Signore. Mai."
"Good boy," Mac grinned as he chuckled at Danny's expression of bewilderment.
"Este, you leave these men alone," boomed Sal as he approached with two platefuls of food. "Here you go, enjoy."
"Thanks, Sal," Mac nodded. "And I will be paying," he added sincerely.
"Nonsense. I see your ring, Mac. It's about time you had one on your finger. How long has it been since you last had one there?"
Mac sighed a little sadly as he thought of Claire. "Twelve years."
"Exactly, long enough. I think in all the time you've been coming here I can give you a free couple of sandwiches."
"It's too generous," Mac stated. Despite the loyal customers, he knew Sal struggled with all his kids.
Sal smiled gratefully but stood firm. "So you finally made an honest man of that boy you're always bringing in here?"
This time Mac blushed furiously and Danny had to laugh. "He sure is about to," he chuckled.
"About time too. Congratulations," Sal said loudly.
Mac was suddenly aware of everyone else in the cafe looking over at him and the gaping women even clapped a little. Crust man raised a crust toward him.
"Come on, Este, let's leave these two in peace," Sal said, taking his son's hand and leading him away.
"But Papa, sono supereroi..." Mac heard the little boy mumble as he was lead away. So much for keeping the secret.
"You didn't tell me you could speak Italian, Mac?" Danny asked with interest.
"I learnt years ago. I had a friend I met abroad who was Italian and I learnt so I could speak at his wedding. I was his best man."
"That's nice of you," Danny nodded.
"He was a good friend," Mac murmured. "So how're things with you?"
Danny sighed heavily as he picked up his fork and poked at the bit of side salad on his plate.
"That bad?" Mac asked in surprise as he poured them both a coffee.
"I dunno, Mac. I feel like everything's getting on top of me."
Mac tilted his head in thought. "How so?"
Danny flung his fork down onto the table. "I just feel scared. I'm scared of Lindsay not being at work anymore, I'm scared of becoming a father for the second time, I'm scared of having a son, I'm scared of the future."
"Danny, you're an amazing father," Mac reassured.
"I never feel like that. I wonder if I'm doing the right thing with Luce all the time. I just don't feel ready for this baby. I mean, a boy! I don't know the first thing about boys!"
Mac smiled. "Danny, you're a great father to Lucy and she loves you very much. And you do realise you used to be a boy yourself?"
Danny smiled with Mac. "Yeah, it sounds stupid. I guess I do know how to handle Lucy now. But then it feels like I've just got to grips with the first one and now I'm having another."
"You'll be fine, Danny. You've done such a great job with Lucy, you both have. Having another really won't be that different, despite it being a little boy."
"I just feel like everything's changing so fast. I mean, we discussed that one of might eventually have to leave work way, even before this baby...but now it's actually happening. Lindsay's leaving and the baby's coming."
"You feel bad for her?" Mac asked as he bit into his sandwich.
"I feel like she's doing all the sacrificing while I stand blindly aside, doing fuck all. Sorry."
"She wants to do this, Danny. She wants to do it for her family, for the children...for you."
"Then what am I supposed to do, Mac?" Danny asked miserably.
"Support her, support them. It's your job and I know you know that. They're your family, Danny. You just carry on as you have been, looking after them, taking care of everything and being a good husband and father."
Danny nodded, swallowing a deep gulp of air. "Thanks, Mac."
"You're bound to panic, Danny. It's natural."
"I just feel so useless. Like maybe I should leave work too? That I should put aside more time for my family?"
"Danny, Lindsay is going to be unemployed in a couple of months. She needs you to have a secure job to support her."
"But I'm worried that I won't be here, Mac. What if something happens?"
"Don't tempt fate, Danny. Nothing is going to happen to you."
"I just want to be a good father, Mac," Danny sighed hopelessly.
"You already are, Danny," Mac smiled. "And you're family are lucky to have you."
"Donny!" Sam greeted her brother as he opened the door for her.
"Hey, Sammie!" he greeted back, pulling her into a hug.
"I told you not to call me that," she moaned.
"Then don't call me Donny," Don complained.
The siblings broke apart and smirked at each other. Don shut the door as Sam made her way into the lounge.
"So where's the old man?" she asked.
"Sam, I told you, you gotta stop calling him that," moaned Don.
"Sorry, Don," she laughed, she knew it wound him up. "Where's Mac?"
"At work. He sends his apologies but his case just got turned on its head."
"Meh, it happens," Sam shrugged as she pulled off her jacket and hung it over the back of the couch. "So what you cooking?"
"Pasta and meatballs. Won't be ready for a half hour," Don replied. "You want a drink?"
"Giving Grams a run for her money, eh?" Sam giggled. "Sure, got any juice?"
"Think we have some oj," Don mumbled as he disappeared to the kitchen.
Sam sat down on the couch and looked round the room. She'd been to Mac's apartment many times before, ever since Don had told her he was in a serious relationship with the older detective. But Mac had always been there too, it had never been just Don and herself. And this time, she couldn't help but notice how many more of her brother's belongings were lying about the room.
"Hey, Don? You move in here or something?" she shouted to the kitchen.
Don returned a moment later with two glasses of juice which he set on the table, making sure he used the coasters, before sitting down next to her.
"Kind of," he mumbled.
She turned to look at him, a frown of confusion on her face. "Well either you did or you didn't?"
"I'm about to," Don nodded.
"Well good for you," Sam smiled. "It's about time you did something to make yourself happy after all these years."
"Mmmm," Don hummed in agreement.
"Grams will be really pleased for you. You'll have no reason not to introduce her to Mac now; she's dying to meet him."
"You think she'll like him?" Don asked nervously.
"Don, she'll like anyone who makes you happy. And I don't think it's Mac you need to worry about. If I were you, I'd be worried about what Grams will be telling your boyfriend," Sam teased. "You think I'm bad but she's like a hundred times worse."
"So you finally introduce her to Jimmy?" Don asked.
"Nah, we broke up. I'm dating Mikey now. He's a cop," she smiled, knowing her brother would be proud.
"Wow. Dad would be proud of you, dating a cop," Don smiled.
For the first time Sam's smile faltered at the mention of their father. Don noticed and sighed.
"Sam, you really need to for..."
"Don't!" Sam said abruptly. "Just don't. I don't need you or anybody else telling me how to live my life. And you're a fine one to talk anyway."
"Sam," warned Don.
"You're a cop for God's sake Don, couldn't you just..."
"Sam!" Don shouted. He stood up and walked away to the kitchen.
Sam sighed. She never understood why Don always got like this. Then again she was just the same herself. The Flack bloodline. She stood up and followed him to the kitchen. He was at the stove, stirring something in a pan.
"Hey I'm sorry okay?" she muttered, leaning against the frame.
"Hmmm."
"You wanna talk?"
"Nope."
"You want me to leave?"
"Nope."
"What do you want?"
Flack let go of the spoon and walked over to her, hugging her tightly. He took Sam by surprise and it was a second before she hugged him back.
"Hey, you okay?"
"I love you, Sam," he responded, hugging her tighter.
"I love you too, Don. Now don't get all sentimental on me," she said, smiling as she managed to push him off her so she could see his face. "Come on, let's go sit down."
"Sorry," he mumbled embarrassedly as they went back into the lounge and sat on the couch. "I just feel like we don't see enough of each other."
"Well then let's fix that," she laughed. "Although it might be hard now you're moving in here. I guess you'll be wanting to spend more time with your boyfriend than your annoying little sis?"
Don smirked and then took a breath. "Hey, Sam?"
"Yep?"
"I got something to tell you."
"Okay..."
"It's about Mac...he's not my boyfriend."
Sam frowned. "I don't understand? Why's your stuff here if he's not you boyfriend anymore?"
Don smiled shyly. "He's my fiancé, Sam. We're getting married." He held his left hand up to show the plain silver band that he had round his ring finger.
Sam's eyes widened in shock and for a moment she froze. Then she suddenly lurched forward and jumped on Don, smothering him with a huge hug.
"Oh my God, Don. That's amazing news!" she pretty much screamed.
"Sam, gerroff!" Don laughed as he pushed his sister off.
"Grams will be even more annoyed now that she hasn't met him before you got engaged!" Sam joked.
"You think she'll be okay?"
"She'll love him. And she'll love that you love him," Sam replied.
"Thanks, Sam," Don smiled.
"No problem," she laughed.
Don grinned even wider at his little sister. God, he loved her. She was almost his only bit of family left and he didn't want to lose her, ever. She was flaky, yes, and she had been in trouble with the law a few times. But in recent years they had grown close and she was also the only person whom he'd told of his heartbreak at the time it happened. He remembered that dreadful day she'd found him drinking his way through a bar and he hadn't been able to hold it in any longer.
Don jumped as he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and turned to see his little sister, Samantha, standing there. She smiled sadly at him and Don knew. He knew she knew.
"Well this is a bit of a turn around," she smiled and slid onto the stool next to him. "So come on, big bro, why don't you tell me all about it?"
Don looked miserably down at his beer and played with the label on the bottle.
"Nothing to tell, Sammie."
"So I've come all the way downtown to get you from this miserable bar for no good reason?"
"I'm doing just fine by myself," Don growled. "Don't need you coming after me."
"Well it sure won't be happening again, Donny. You're normally the one coming after me."
"How'd you even find me?" Don asked evasively.
"Because your friend Messer rang me and said he was worried about you. That you'd had a bit of a tough day at work and then disappeared? I knew you'd be here, Donny, you always come back here."
"Son of a bitch," Don moaned.
"He sounded worried about you, Don. And so am I," she said sadly. "He said you've not been the same since you came back to work after the explosion and it's obvious something's wrong. You changed back at the hospital. I don't know what happened, one day you seemed quite yourself, despite the obvious, but cheerful. And then I hear how you're up and down all the time, evasive, keeping friends at a distance. What's going on?"
"I am cheerful," Don replied.
"Yeah, maybe sometimes. And then other times he said you seem so sad, it's painful to watch."
"Maybe I'm just dealing with some stuff and I'll be over it soon."
"It's been months now, Donny. Look, you've always been there for me, your screw up sister, and you've never once judged me. You always find me, stay with me when I'm feeling scared and lost. I want to do the same for you," she said and gently placed a hand on his arm.
"You'll hate me," Don cried miserably. "Everyone will."
Sam was taken aback at his sudden outburst of emotion. Then she stood and pulled him into a hug, rocking him gently as he cried.
"It'll be okay, Donny. I promise. Let me help you. Let your family help you."
Don pulled away from her and wiped his face. Sam sat back on her stool and he watched her watching him. He knew what she was waiting for and yet he couldn't bring himself to say the words.
"It's hard," he mumbled.
"Whatever it is, I won't judge you, Donny," she said kindly.
Don looked at her again and then stared back at his beer bottle.
"You remember Mac? He visited me a couple of times at the hospital?"
"More than a couple as I remember," she nodded. "He kinda disappeared though..." she frowned.
"Mac and I have been sleeping together," he said in a rush. He felt his cheeks burning and waited for her to shout, to tell him how disgusting he was but it never came. He reluctantly looked up at her and saw she was still watching him, concern etched all over her face.
"I know, Don. I guessed when you were in the hospital. It was pretty obvious. I think Dad and Mom guessed too."
"Oh, God!" Don cried miserably.
"Don, they don't care. They love you anyway. You're their son, idiot!"
Don blinked up at his sister with tears in his eyes.
"So what happened? Why'd he just disappear?" she asked sympathetically.
Don sighed and took a long drink from his bottle. "We started dating about a year and a half ago, went out for a drink after this case with a tiger. I'd liked him for a long time before that though. It was Lindsay's first case, you remember her right?"
"Yeah I remember her," she nodded. There was no surprise that it had been such a long time ago.
"Yeah, well he broke up with me after the accident, while I was in the hospital, said he could do it any longer..."
Sam gave an audible gasp of shock. "Utter bastard!...God if I ever see that son of a bitch again..."
"Sam, don't!" Don said worriedly. "Please don't say anything..."
Sam sighed. "Fine. But that guy is so dead meat if I see him again."
Don briefly exhaled a small laugh as he thought of his sister trying to beat up the ex-Marine.
"So what happened to make you come here tonight and sit alone drinking your way through the entire bar?" she asked.
Don almost smiled.
"He started dating one of the M.E.'s called Peyton after we split," he said bitterly.
"Seriously? God, I could right rip him limb from limb," she growled and Don recognised something of himself in his younger sister.
"We got back together though a month or so after I went back to work. He promised me he was gonna leave Peyton. That he regretted splitting up with me. That he loved me."
Sam placed an arm round her brother for support.
"He lied of course. When he came into the precinct today and arrested Dean...I knew then that he didn't love me. Didn't care about me. Work will always be more important to him than me. His reputation will always be more important than me. I'm so stupid. I should have seen it sooner. Peyton's a doctor, she clever...pretty...a woman...everything Mac wants. Me...I'm nothing. A nobody."
"I'm sure he doesn't think that, Donny. And you're not a nobody..."
"He used me, Sam! I can't believe I fell for it again. I'm so stupid!"
Sam growled in the back of her throat. "God, I could just..."
"Please don't!" Don once more pleaded.
Sam felt her heart breaking for the big brother she cared so deeply for.
"I just want you to be happy, Donny."
Don laughed. It wasn't a happy laugh.
"You won't tell Messer will you?" he suddenly asked. "I don't want him to know I'm..."
"Of course I won't. But he's worried about you, Donny."
"I'll be okay."
Sam stood again and hugged her brother to her. He cried thick tears into her shoulder and she heard him moan, "I love him, Sammie. I love him. It hurts."
That had been a whole lifetime ago, or so it seemed to Don anyway. He'd been with Jess since then and then back with Mac. Life was strange in the way it moved and changed. He'd forgiven Mac a long time ago for what he'd done, for how much he'd hurt him. Mac knew, of course, Mac knew before he'd even told him. But they'd put aside their differences, their argument, and built a new relationship from the ground up, only this time stronger, invincible, unbreakable.
Flack was tidying up his stuff in the bullpen ready to leave for the evening. He was pissed that they hadn't been able to catch suspect X. Pissed that the case was now unsolved. He was damn sure that they were gonna catch the bitch next time she surfaced. Mac had been even more pissed than he, himself had been, not that he could blame him. The older detective had got really into the case what with that weird online gaming. And if they'd only arrived five minutes sooner...well, it was no use thinking like that.
Flack looked up just as Detective Angell passed his desk and she gave him a warm smile. He returned with one of his goofy grins and suddenly felt his cheeks start to heat up. He immediately looked back down and hoped to God she hadn't noticed. She was very pretty.
"Flack."
Flack looked back up to see Mac standing by his desk.
"Hey Mac. Something I can help you with?"
"You've finished for the day?"
Flack frowned slightly. "As long as I get outta here in the next minute then yeah. Otherwise I'll be roped in to staying another few hours at least."
Mac laughed a little.
"I wondered if you'd like to catch a quick drink before you head home?"
Flack's frown deepened. He didn't like where this was going. Peyton dumps Mac and then straight away he comes sniffing round him again. "Look, Mac..."
"Don't worry," Mac stated. "I literally mean one drink only. That's it."
Flack picked up his jacket from his chair and pulled it on. "Twenty minutes, Mac," he said seriously.
"Fine."
The two men walked out of the precinct and Flack followed Mac to a bar that was near enough to get to quickly, but far enough away for it not to be just another cop hang out.
"You're buying," Flack stated as they entered and he walked over to a table and grabbed himself a seat.
Mac smiled and ordered two beers before joining him.
"So what's up?" Flack asked as took a long drink from his pint. It was good.
"I just wanted to thank you."
"What?" Flack asked.
"I know it must be hard for you to be around me at the moment. Hard for you to listen to me talking about Peyton today. But I appreciated it."
Flack smirked a little. "Yeah, it is hard. But I'll get over it."
"Despite everything that's happened between us you still know me better than anyone, Don. And I really needed someone to talk to and you were there. Just like you were the other week when I told you about my stalker."
Flack grimaced. "You need to get some protection, Mac."
Mac ignored his worries and looked away.
"You know, watching you walk away with Peyton was the hardest and most humiliating thing that's ever happened to me," Flack said after a while.
Mac looked at him sadly.
"You were mine first, Mac. I would have done anything for you. And you chose her over me."
"I'm not expecting your forgiveness, Don. That's not why I invited you here. I just need to know we're going to be okay, professionally."
"You have my forgiveness, Mac. Last year...last year has just been a total mess, something that I'd rather forget. The only good thing about seeing you go off with her was that it made me realise I'll never have you. Not truly."
"Don, I..."
"No, Mac. It's okay. I'm moving on. You're right, we need to be able to work together, to rely on and trust each other. And I want to be friends, I do."
"I want that too, Don. I truly am sorry I ever hurt you."
Flack exhaled a laugh. "Let's say we move on then?"
"Here's to that," Mac smiled as he raised his glass.
Flack clinked his own against it and they both drank.
"So have you set a date then? And where?" asked Sam excitedly.
"City Hall in just under three months. Reception will be in McTiers and Danny is best man. We're only inviting a few close friends and already organised the catering. We don't really want any flowers or that crap although I think Jo said she'd help decorate the place up, she's still disgruntled we're having it in a bar and she's also buying us a cake as a present."
"What about music?" asked Sam eagerly.
"One of the guys at the precinct is an Elvis impersonator in his free time so he's going to perform and Mac might play a bit too."
"Sounds good if you need a DJ, Mikey does a bit too" she replied.
"That sounds great, sis," Don grinned.
"I'll get you his number," she smiled, going to her bag.
Don felt his phone vibrate and glanced at it, seeing a message from Mac.
"Hey, Mac's on his way back. Case closed."
"Great," grinned Sam and hurried back with the number.
"Thanks Sammie. You're the best," Don murmured.
"Aw, you big softie!" she laughed and hugged him.
A/N – Flashbacks in order are 3x08 and 4x05
I'd also like to say the reason there are no D/L flashbacks is cos their relationship is canon so we know what happened. I'm only doing flashbacks of M/F as I made it up.