DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA FLACK AND THE FLACK KIDS.

A/N: PLEASE CHECK OUT MADISON BELLOWS' FALLING DOWN. AN AMAZING ONE SHOT SHE BASED ON THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER OF THIS STORY. IT IS ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE!

HUGE THANKS TO LAURZZ FOR SENDING ME THIS AMAZING SONG!

An unwelcome Angell's touch

"If it's okay I'll leave the bed light on
And place your water glass where it belongs
And if alright I'll lie awake at night
Pretending I am curled up at your side
See I'm circling these patterns
Living out of memories
I'm still a long way from accepting it
That there's just no you and me
But if I still believe you love me
Maybe I'll survive
So I tell myself you're coming home
Like you've done a million times
And if it's alright I'll still be loving you
'cause I can't break it to my heart."
-I Can't Break it to My Heart, Delta Goodrem

It was quarter to seven in the evening when Jessica Angell, carrying large plastic shopping bag holding three brown paper bags containing Chinese take out, found herself climbing the front steps of the Flack's modest, well kept home in Flushing, Queens. As she stepped onto the front porch, she noticed that the wooden door behind the screen one was wide open, enabling the sounds of life to trickle outside. A radio playing, Flack's familiar deep, assertive voice, Mikayla's ear piercing shrieks mixed in with the boys' laughter and incessant chatter. The family was getting on with their lives. The best they possibly could. Angell knew that it would be a slow and painful process. Accepting and then attempting to get over the death of a loved one was never an easy thing.

There was no set time limit on grief. No clock that dictated when you had to stop feeling sorry for yourself or when crying ceased to be appropriate. Flack had lost his wife. His soul mate. Part of him would never be the same. Anyone who knew him and loved him knew that he was struggling. That underneath those piercing blue eyes and that tough guy exterior, he was barely holding it together. His children had lost their mother. The person who'd carried them for nine months and nurtured them and played both mommy and daddy when their father all too often put work above family.

Angell had lost a friend two and a half months ago. Once their differences had been put aside the afternoon of Sam and Flack's wedding, she and Sam had forged a tight, impenetrable friendship. They spent time talking on the phone or simply hanging out. They went shopping and out to dinner on their weekly girls night out. Angell became an aunt to Kieran and all of the kids that followed. She spent holidays and birthdays at the house and became a permanent fixture in all of their lives.

When Samantha Flack had been died, Jessica Angell had lost a piece of herself. A friend that had always been loyal and true. Who'd always been the one to offer you a shoulder to cry on or a sympathetic ear. Dishing out well meaning, truthful advice whether you wanted to hear it or not. Making you laugh on these long, dark days when there didn't seem to be anything to laugh about. Working cases with her had been one of the highlights of the job for Angell. It was always an experience it seemed when they were out in the field together. Perps didn't take them seriously when they were a team. All the bad guys saw were two women -pretty and petite and definitely not intimidating looking- and assumed that the detectives were pushovers. That they couldn't possibly handle their own.

And those perps always were treated to a rude awakening at the end of the day. Shocked as hell when those two small, seemingly defenceless and weak women were able to drop 'em and cuff 'em. Sam's reasoning for being so tough for such a tiny thing? You try having three boys at home and having to wrestle with them to get their clothes and shoes on. Angell knew it went farther then that. Self defence courses and kick boxing and a husband that made damn well sure, as a woman often alone at night in New York City, that she knew how to stick up for herself and kick ass with the best of them. The perps never knew what hit them when that feisty little Brooklyn girl laid into them. Especially verbally. One moment she was sweet as pie, girl next door, the next she was cunning and full of vehemence.

Angell recalled, as she journeyed up the front steps, a drug dealer wanted for torturing and then killing a client who'd been repeatedly short on cash. He'd seen the two of them coming and gave a sly smirk and proceeded to bolt down East 118th street. Angell and Sam had taken off on a six block chase, only to trick him up by sneaking through a bodega and out the back door, nearly smashing his face with the metal fire door when he 'accidentally' ran into it as they came out. Afterwards, as the three of them had sat in interrogation, he'd looked at them, busted nose and missing teeth and all, and told Angell that she and her sister were "damn fine."

Angell had returned the smirk and flipped her hair over her shoulder and announced. "She's not my sister, she's my girlfriend."

His eyes had gone wide and he'd broken out into a massive toothless grin and declared, "Well that's even hotter."

It had taken all their will power to not burst into laughter right there and then. And it had been a hell of a feat to get through the interrogation with a straight face. But the moment they were out the door, the two women had looked at one another, arched their eyebrows and promptly dissolved into laughter. To the point they collapsed into one another and nearly ended up in a pile on the squad room floor.

Of course, every cop in the place, including an amused and slightly confused Flack at his desk, had stared at them as if they'd gone completely insane. And after they'd managed to compose themselves -it had taken damn near fifteen minutes and Sam had been left with a nasty case of the hiccups- they'd wiped tears from their cheeks and straightened their clothes and headed to Angell's desk to finish up some business with their heads held eye.

And as they'd passed Flack's desk, Sam had laid a hand on her husband's shoulder and said to her friend, in a voice loud enough for Flack to hear:

"My husband will love to hear we have girl crushes on each other."

The look on Flack's face had been so priceless that they'd been overcome with laughter once again and had barely made it to Angell's desk, where'd they'd plopped down into their respective chairs and took some time to gather themselves.

And when the laughter had stopped, they'd looked at each other and smiled. And Samantha Flack had said four simple words to her, that had warmed Angell's heart then, but brought tears to her eyes now.

"I'm glad we're friends."

Angell hadn't responded. But as she stepped up onto the front porch with a lump of emotion threatening to choke her and tears burning her eyes, she realized that she was damn glad that they were friends as well. And it hurt like hell to think that wounded pride and jealousy over a man had caused so much turmoil and heart ache between them. That they hadn't been mature enough to set their differences aside and attempt a friendship. They'd fought instead of practicing in the art of forgiving.

Jessica Angell would always regret that.

She brushed her tears away on the sleeve of her simple white cotton blouse and swallowed noisily, then reached out to pull open the screen door.

"Hello?!" she called out as she stepped into the small front foyer.

"Auntie Jessie!" Daniel's little voice called out from kitchen at the back of the house, and was soon followed by the pounding of feet across hardwood floors and down the stairs. "Auntie Jessie's here!"

The Flack kids were the only people -little or big outside of her father- that called her Jessie. Many people had attempted the nickname, and they'd all failed miserably. But there was something so adorable and innocent with the way it sounded coming out of a child's mouth that she couldn't possibly chastise them or correct them.

"Auntie Jessie!" Daniel cried, as he skidded into the foyer, sliding easily on the tiles in his socks.

She greeted him with an extra long hug and a huge kiss. Her heart ached for him and his brothers and sisters. The loss of their mother was a massive blow to them. They were old enough -the boys at least- to know that their mom was never coming back. And they were also old enough to have formed thousands of warm and loving memories of her. Mikayla however was just a baby. And it tore Angell up to think that that precious little girl, with her black curls and her huge blue eyes and her dimply smile and musical giggle, would never remember the woman that had brought her into the world.

"How are you?" she asked her 'nephew' running a hand over his brush cut before crouching down to his level. "Did you have a good day at camp?"

Daniel, his chin to his chest, shook his head.

"I thought you were having fun there?" she said, laying the plastic grocery bag on the floor and placing her hands on the child's slender shoulders. "What happened?"

Daniel looked up, a pout on his face and tears in his dark eyes. "I got in trouble," he reluctantly admitted.

Angell didn't respond at first. Too taken back by the child's appearance. More specifically the fact Daniel had no eyebrows. "Who did you get in trouble by?" she asked.

"The sue-pee," he replied, using the slang for supervisor. "And then they called daddy and I got in trouble by daddy too."

"Tell Auntie Jessie why you got in trouble," Flack said to his son, as he appeared in the doorway leading into the living room. Crossing his arms over his broad chest as he leaned against the wall, his eyebrows raised as he looked down at his child. Long changed out of his work uniform, he looked relaxed and comfortable in a pair of olive green cargo style shorts and a black golf shirt and his bare feet. And he also looked completely and utterly exhausted. Both physically and mentally.

Daniel sighed and looked down at the floor. "I bit someone," he whispered.

"Who was this someone?" Angell asked, hooking a finger under the boy's tiny chin and tilting his face upwards so he looked her in the eye.

"Robbie," Daniel replied. "He's an older kid. Same age as K. He was picking on me."

"Tell Auntie Jessie how he was picking on you," Flack encouraged.

Daniel gave another sigh. This time louder and longer. "He stole my drinking box and then he tried to steal my cookies so I bit him."

"You know that it's not nice to bite, right?" his aunt asked. "That your mommy and daddy don't like it when you do that?"

Daniel nodded. "I couldn't help it," he admitted. "I was sooo mad, Auntie Jessie."

"If he was picking on you, you should have told the sue-pee," Angell told him firmly. "You should have told them about it instead of handling things the way you did. What you did was wrong. You know that, Daniel."

"I know," he said in a tiny voice. "But when I get mad I can't help it. I do things when I'm mad. Things that are scary and I don't like."

"Why are you mad?" she asked.

Daniel shrugged.

"Well you must know," Angell said. "You must know why you're mad, honey."

"I just am," Daniel reasoned.

"You can tell Auntie and your daddy why you're so mad," she said, softly stroking his cheek. "Why don't you tell us why you're so mad, Danny."

She was the only person that ever called him Danny. Her term of affection for him.

"Tell me why you're so angry," she implored, their dark eyes locked on each other. "Go on…tell me."

Daniel shook his head.

Angell nodded hers.

The child sighed once again and looked up at his father and then back at his aunt. "I'm mad that mommy's not coming back," he whispered.

Angell glanced up and over at Flack as he cleared his throat noisily and looked away from his son. The pain and grief evident on his face.

She gave a small smile and ran a hand over Daniel's tiny face. "It's okay to be upset that mommy's gone," she assured him. "It's okay to be angry and sad and it's okay to cry. Because it's really sad that your mommy isn't here anymore. We're all sad about it. You know that, right? Your brothers are sad and your daddy's sad and your Uncle Adam is sad."

"Are you sad?" Daniel asked through his tears.

"I am very, very, very sad," Angell replied. "And mommy understands that we need time to be sad. And that it's going to take us all a long time not to be sad anymore. But you know what? Your mommy wouldn't want you to be so angry that you're hurting other kids. She'd want you to talk to daddy when you're feeling upset. Because daddy's pretty upset too and maybe the two of you can help each other not be upset anymore. Okay?"

"Okay," Daniel sniffled. "I can try to help, daddy."

"Good boy," Angell said, and laying a gentle hand on the back of his head, placed a kiss to his forehead. "Your mommy loved you so much. You know that right?"

He nodded. "I miss mommy," he said, his lower lip trembling.

"And I'm sure she misses you, too," Angell told him.

"I'll always love mommy," Daniel declared.

His aunt smiled. "I know you will, sweet pea. Do you think you could do me a favour?" she inquired. "A big boy favour?"

He nodded.

"Can you take this into the kitchen?" she asked, picking up the plastic bag and holding it out to him.

"And call your brothers and tell them that supper will be ready to go soon?" Flack tossed in.

"I can be a big boy," Daniel said, and taking the bag in two hands, carried it out of the foyer and disappeared into the living room. "KIERAN!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs. "MACKIE!!! SUPPER! HAUL ASS!"

"Daniel!" Flack snapped. "Watch it!"

"Sorry, daddy," he said sheepishly.

Flack watched his son go. Waiting until the little boy had journeyed into the kitchen before shaking his head and sighing heavily and turning to Angell. "They run the house," he complained. "I don't know how or when it happened, but this place is being run by pint sized tyrants."

"They're just going through a hell of a time," Angell reasoned as she stood up. "How are things like scheduled bedtimes and proper eating habits going?"

He snorted. "Let's just say that there's not much of a schedule around here. I'm trying. I try to get them fed at a proper time and into bed at a proper time. But by the time I get home and hear about their days and help them clean themselves up, it's way after seven. By the time I cook something, it's close to eight. Then they need some time to play around so they get tired. Then I have to bath them and get them into pyjamas and then I…" he closed his eyes briefly. "I'm really, really trying here, Jess."

She gave him a sympathetic smile and reached out to rub his arm affectionately. "You're doing a good job, Don. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. No one said this was going to be easy. And you're handling it better then most. Trust me."

"It's just…I don't know…Daniel is just…he's out of control. I don't know what to do with him, you know? I get the whole OCD and ADHD thing. I've been dealing with that for a long time now. But the way he is now? I can't cope. I just can't."

"A lot of kids bite, Don. As a form of aggression."

"He bit the kid to the bone, Jess. Right to the goddamn bone."

"Maybe he's a cannibal," Angell teased.

Flack frowned.

"Okay, so that wasn't at all funny. I'm sure that it's just a one time thing."

Flack shook his head. "It's not. It's a recurring thing. He got in trouble over it in school too. And he's always trying to take a chunk out of me and his brothers. And you think that's bad? He bites himself, Jess. When he gets angry. He literally latches down on his own arms. I've had to take him for tetanus shots and I've had to take him to the ER and get antibiotics because the bites have gotten infected."

"He's acting out because he doesn't know how to express how he's feeling," Angell reasoned. "You just heard him, Don. He's angry. Very angry. He's hurting so bad and he doesn't know how to talk about it. He misses him mom and loves her so much. And he needs to find a way to get all that anger out of him. In a productive way."

Flack sighed heavily and ran a hand over his weary face. "Goddamn that fucking bitch for leaving us," he muttered.

"Don't talk like that," Angell scolded him. "Don't blame Sam for this. Don't blame her for what happened. This wasn't her fault."

"I'm just so pissed off," he admitted. "I'm pissed off at her for doing this to the kids. For doing this to me. And then I get pissed off with myself for feeling that way. Because I love her so much and I miss her and I…" he bit his lip as he fought off emotion. "I want her back, Jess. So bad."

"I know," Angell said gently, rubbing his arm once more. "How are you holding up, Don?" she asked. Then interrupted him before the words could escape from his mouth. "And tell me the truth," she demanded.

He closed his mouth, contemplating his answer before responding. "Well let's put it this way, the four different meds I'm on for depression are barely working and I feel like I'm five seconds away from a mental breakdown."

Angell frowned. "Is there someone you can talk to? The priest from you parish? The department chaplain? Your family doctor?"

He rolled his eyes at each suggestion. "What are they going to tell me, Jess? That I'm crazy? That I'm unfit to take care of my kids? I lose those kids and I've lost everything. They're all I have left. I can't lose my kids."

"No one is going to say that about you, or try and take your kids away. You're wife just died. She was murdered. That's a hell of a blow. And anyone who thinks you don't have the right to grieve and be distraught doesn't know what it's like to love someone that much and lose them so unexpectedly."

"Tim Speedle wants to take the twins," Flack said in a low face, as footsteps overhead indicated Kieran and Mackenzie were on their way down.

Angell frowned. "Excuse me?"

"I get home today and there's a goddamn process server waiting on my porch," Flack fumed. "He hands me an envelope and gives that, 'you've been served' line. I wanted to punch him in the face. I mean, I had the kids with me. Why did he have to do that in front of my kids?"

"Because they have no morals. What was in the envelope?"

"A court order. For a DNA test."

Angell's eyes widened.

"No joke," Flack said. "I guess Speedle thinks he deserves a chance to play daddy. That he can just walk in here seven years later and take my kids. It's my name on their birth certificates. Sam was my wife. I accepted those babies as my own and I've done nothing but love them and their mother all this time. And he thinks he can just come here and take them from me?"

"Don…" Angell said patiently and softly. "I need to be completely honest with you."

"Don't stand here, in my house, and tell me you agree with him!" Flack hissed.

"I don't agree with him at all," Angell defended herself. "I think he's a prick for kicking you while you're down. What I wanted to say, was this…Has it ever occurred to you, Don, at any point in the last seven and a half years, that those boys are actually yours?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, perplexed.

"I mean have you ever stopped to consider that you're actually their father? You and Sam never had a DNA test. You don't know anything for sure and you…"

"You've seen them, Jess! The hair, the dark eyes! Both Mikki and Kieran have black hair and blue eyes. They look just like me. Daniel and Mackenzie look just like…"

"Their mother!" she exclaimed, cutting him off. "They look just like their mother! They have her hair colour but Adam's texture. They have darker eyes than her, but maybe somewhere down the line in her family, a couple of relatives had dark brown eyes. They look just like her, Don! They've got her nose and her ears and her chin. They've got her freckles and her smile! They even have her laugh and her mannerisms! They're just like their mother!"

He sighed heavily.

"Has it never occurred to you that those boys might be yours? Or were you just so angry at Sam for cheating on you, that you being the father never seemed like a believable option?"

"I just never…"

"You just never forgave her long enough to consider it. You want to fight this? You want to give Speedle a big fuck you?"

"Of course I do. But…"

"But nothing," Angell almost snarled. "Listen to me. For once in your life, listen to me. You're going to fight this and I'm going to help you. Okay?"

He gave a small smile and nodded. "What are we going to do?" he asked.

"Well short of you going upstairs and grabbing a q-tip to spit on, I say that when I leave here tonight, you give me something that has your DNA and something with the kids' DNA. I'll take the samples to the lab and have them run. Discreetly. You trust me?"

"With my life," he replied sincerely.

"I won't let you down, Don," she vowed. "But you know what I want first?"

He shook his head.

"Some food," she said. "I'm starving."

"Sounds good," he agreed.

She gave a smile and linked her arm through his as they headed into the living room.

Allies.

"Daniel shaved his eyebrows off because he wanted them to match his head."

Angell was unable to contain the grin that spread from ear to ear at Flack's announcement. It was shortly before nine thirty at night as they sat on opposite ends of the sofa in the dimly lit living room. A glass of wine -her third- in her hand and a bottle of beer -his fifth- in his. The kids had long retired to bed. While Kieran and Mackenzie weren't the issues, Daniel was a hellion. He fought bath and bed time with every ounce of strength in the tiny body. And when it became painfully aware that his father was losing any shred of patience he had left, Angell had calmly suggested Flack take a break and had stepped in to finish the job.

It had been an ordeal. She'd fought with two hundred plus pound suspects in her career, and none of them were as tough and cagey as that little boy. In the end, there were many tears and a lot of yelling and threats to not bite or punch or kick or scratch, but Jessica Angell had prevailed. By the time his teeth had been brushed, Daniel Flack was exhausted from the nights activities and had to be carried to bed.

"Where did he get that idea?" she asked, sipping her wine.

Flack shrugged. "Who knows with that kid. The weirdest things go through his head sometimes. I leave him alone for ten minutes and he goes into the bathroom and I find him with a razor in his hand and his eyebrows missing. I mean, he could have seriously cut himself or something."

"Those things should be locked away where he can't get to them," she said. "Sam used to make sure…" she bit her lip, unsure if the mention of her friend's name in such a context would upset Flack.

"She never did stupid things like that," he said, swigging his beer. "She was the one that always made sure the place was baby proofed and all of that. Sometimes I think she used to go to the extremes. When she was pregnant with Kieran, I came home from work and she was sitting on the kitchen floor, washing the handles on the cupboards. She had taken a screwdriver and removed them all 'cause she felt the urge to disinfect the entire house."

Angell grinned. "She was a little eccentric at times," she said.

He gave a small smile and nodded.

"Have you heard from her mother at all?" Angell asked.

Flack shook his head. "Not since the day I called her to tell her that Sam had died. She never called about the funeral or even bothered showing up. She never even calls to see how the kids are doing. Once Sam and her had the falling out over the twins, things were never the same between them. And once her dad died, Sam didn't have a reason to call Arizona anymore. It's for the best. Her mom is just a mean old bitch. And I don't have the tolerance for that shit. Especially right now."

Angell nodded in understanding. "How about Adam?" she inquired.

"Adam came and saw me today," Flack replied. "We haven't talked since I took Sam off of life support."

"And how is he?"

"Horrible," Flack admitted. "He's lost tons of weight, obviously hasn't been sleeping properly or taking very good care of himself. I mean, I know I'm not exactly one to talk. I'm lucky if I get three hours a night and eat twice a day. Which for me is highly unusual. But she was my wife. I think I have the right to be more than a little fucked up."

"And she was Adam's sister," Angell pointed out. "They'd been through hell and back together as kids. They had this incredible bond. It's no wonder he's as upset as he is."

"It goes far beyond being upset," Flack told her. "He's just…I can't even describe it. He's just not even Adam anymore. He's like this empty shell that was once Adam. And it killed me to see him like that. Did you know Gus left him?"

Angell nodded as she swallowed a mouthful of wine. "I heard some talk," she admitted.

"Where the hell have I been? I hadn't heard a thing about it before today."

"Don, your wife just died. You're dealing with your own grief and your own issues and trying to work and take care of four kids, it's no wonder you didn't pick up on it."

"I just wish there was something I could do for him," Flack sighed. "But how do I help someone else when I can barely help myself?"

Angell had no response for that. "What did he come to see you about?" she asked.

"He wanted to apologize for the things he said and the threats he made when I took Sammie off the machines. It took a lot of balls for him to do that. I definitely wasn't expecting it. And he wanted someone to rant and rave to about the lab's inability to find worthwhile leads on who murdered his sister."

Angell sighed. "It is hard to believe they haven't found at least a person of interest," she said.

"Ask me, someone around there is fucking with things," Flack told her. "In fact, I know that someone around there is fucking with things."

She arched an eyebrow. "How so?"

"I got a package delivered to me today. It was dropped off at the duty captain and then Scagnetti brought it to me while I was at the cemetery."

"What kind of package?" Angell asked.

He sighed heavily. "They were pictures. Crime scene photos and autopsy photos. Sam's crime scene and autopsy photos."

Her eyes widened. "Who in the hell would send you that?"

"Whoever killed my wife. Whoever killed Sammie is either working on the inside, or the person who murdered her has someone on the inside. Either way, someone I know and trust has something to do with it. That's the only one that those photos could get to me. If someone I know sent them."

"But who would do something like that, Don? Who would want to hurt you so bad? Who'd want to kill Sammie? No one had a problem with her, or you."

"I don't know," he said, shaking his head. "All I know is that someone close to me had something to do with my wife's death. Someone that has spent time in this home with me and Sammie and our kids. I don't know why they'd do this to me, or to her. I just know they did."

"And you're still convinced that it's the Wilder gang we're after," it was more a statement then a question.

Flack nodded. "Scagnetti's CI has heard some word on the street that it was the Wilder Gang that was behind it. He's got me all those names and addresses and we need to follow up on them. Kick down some doors, rattle a few cages. We just need to all get together to talk about it."

"I was able to get six Kevlar vests from my inside guy at ESU," Angell told him. "I didn't say who they were for or what they were going to be using them for, just that I needed them and would put them to good use. I'll bring them by the house tomorrow night sometime."

"Don't you have better things to do than hang around my place?" Flack asked teasingly. "How come you're not out with Brad or Brian or Ben or whatever the hell his name is? The stockbroker guy."

"Bryce," Angell told him. "His name is Bryce. Or was. Well it still is because he's alive and kicking somewhere. He's just not alive and kicking around me."

"You guys broke up?"

Angell nodded.

"How come? I thought things were going pretty good with you two. Last I heard from Sammie about it, she said that you guys were thinking about moving together. That you thought maybe he was the one."

"And how long ago was that?" Angell asked, an amused smirk on her face.

Flack thought about it for a moment. "I don't know. Six or seven months ago?"

"Three months ago," Angell told him. "We broke up three months ago."

"Hmmm…" Flack said with a nod. "Sorry to hear about that. Sammie knew you guys broke up?"

Angell nodded.

"Why didn't she tell me? She always tells me everything…" he caught himself and gave a heavy sigh and stared down at the beer bottle in his hand as he picked absentmindedly at the label. "Told me," he corrected. "She always TOLD me everything. I find it hard to talk about her in the past tense. I'm sorry."

Angell gave a sad smile, and leaning across the couch, laid her hand on his forearm. "Don't you ever, ever think, or feel, that you have to apologize to me for being a human being," she said quietly, yet firmly. "You're sad and you're pissed off and you're hurt. And you have every right to be, Don. You lost your wife. And I know how much you love her and adore her. Present tense. So please, don't ever think I'm going to judge you or think less of you for missing Sammie. You lost someone so important to you."

He nodded and sniffled noisily. "So did you," he said.

"She was my best friend," Angell told him. "The years that I spent in her life, in your life together, and your kids lives, those years mean more to me than I could ever tell you. And I miss her. Every day. And some days, I'm doing pretty god. I go to work and get on with my life. And than I see something or hear something, or I'm doing something that reminds me of her. And sometimes it makes me smile, but most of the time, it hurts like a bastard. And there's nights I sleep soundly and others where I rant and rave and I cry about the way things ended. So I know what you're going through. I might not be feeling it to the same extent you are, but believe me, Don, I know and I understand."

He nodded slowly, his eyes downcast.

"I'm not like other people who shall remain nameless. I'm not going to make you feel ashamed for missing your wife as much as you do."

"It just hurts so bad," he whispered. "She's everywhere you know. I see her and feel her. Everywhere. And there's times I even think I hear her. Is that insane or what?"

"Grief has no rhyme or reason to it," Angell said. "You just know how you feel and how to pick yourself help when you're feeling low down. And Don, if you need to freak out and cry or just go somewhere to lick your wounds, that doesn't make you any less of a person."

"I know," he sighed. "I just…apart from you and Danny, everyone has just upped and disappeared on me, you know? They've just dropped off the face of the earth it seems. They don't call and ask how the kids are doing or nothing. I don't care about myself, I'm a big boy. But the kids need people around them. People that were close to their mother. And it seems that no one can find five minutes to do that for them. And that's what hurts. Because Carmen was the closest to them, and as soon as Speedle came back, it was like those kids didn't exist anymore. All of a sudden it became shit on the Flack kids. Let's just forget about them when they need someone the most."

"Well unfortunately, there are a lot of people in this world, that forget about something when it stops being front page news," Angell said.

"You and Danny have been there. I understand Adam's reasoning. I get that. I don't blame Adam in the slightest for keeping his distance. He's dealing with his own issues and him being around the kids at this point in time, isn't a smart idea. But everyone else?" Flack snorted and took a huge gulp of his beer. "Fuck 'em."

"Have you thought about what you're going to do afterwards?" Angell asked, swirling her wine around in her glass.

"How you mean?"

"I mean after we get this guy, or guys. Have you thought about what you're going to do? With your life? With your kids lives? Are you going to stay with the department or…"

"We're going to leave," he answered quickly.

"As in Queens or…"

"As in New York State. We're going to put the house up for sale and me and my kids are going to get as far away from here as possible."

"Where are you going to go?" Angell asked, surprised by his admission.

Flack shrugged. "We'll find some place. I can easily get a job in another city's department. I'm not worried about that. It's just one it's done, once we get whoever did this? I want to be as far away from here as possible. This is just a house. Sure there's lots of memories here. But the most important memories of Sammie are the ones I keep in my heart. I can carry those with me wherever I go."

Angell smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. "You're going to be okay, Don Flack Jr. You and your kids are going to be okay."

"I hope so," he said with a small nod. "I really hope so. And thank you. For coming here tonight. You didn't have to."

"I wanted to," she assured him, laying a hand on the back of his neck. "I figured you needed someone. And I wanted to be that someone."

He wasn't sure entirely how Angell meant that. If she had wanted to be that someone out of sheer friendship, or if there was something more behind it. If there was a little more to the way she softly stroked the back of his neck and grazed his cheek with her nose, her dark eyes locked on him. He prayed to God that he was reading too much into it. That it was just his insurmountable grief and the beer making him think irrational thoughts. And feel irrational things. Because now, as he turned to look at her, and saw so much care and concern, and yes, affection in her eyes, he realized how nice it felt to have a woman that close to him again. Someone that touched him so gently and cared about him. And it scared the hell out of him for feeling that way. For wanting someone to love him and adore him. For wanting someone to help him feel alive again.

No one would ever, ever replace Sam or the way he loved her. But she was gone and she was never coming back. No matter how much he begged and pleaded and prayed. And while he didn't necessarily want Angell or see her in THAT way, the fact of the matter was, she was there and she was real.

And he was lonely and afraid.

She moved her hand from the back of his neck and laid it along his face. Her thumb tracing over his top lip as she looked deep into his eyes. "It's okay, Don," she whispered, and placed a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth. "It's okay."

He shook his head. Nothing was okay. And it would never be okay again. But he neither pulled away or resisted when she leaned into him and covered his lips with hers in a long and soft kiss.

It wasn't until he realized that that kiss didn't feel the same, that those lips didn't taste the same, that his body froze and his brain screamed at him to stop. And he jerked away as if he'd been scalded and quickly stood up.

"I can't," he said, shaking his head mournfully. "I just can't…"

"It's okay to need someone," Angell whispered, reaching for his hand. "It's okay to need someone to help you feel human again."

He shook his head and yanked his hand away. "I don't want someone," he told her. "I just want my wife. I just want my Sammie. That's all I want. I don't want this."

"She's not here, Don," Angell reminded him gently. "And she's never going to be here again."

"But she's here," he said, touching his temple with his finger. "And she's here," he laid his hand over his heart. "And she's all around me. It's been less than three months and I can't just forget about her that easily."

"No one said you have to forget about her," Angell told him. "I just said that it's okay to need someone at the moment."

"No moments," he said. "I have enough moments in my life that mean a lot to me. I don't need anymore. She was your friend, Jess. You're best friend according to you. And I'm not doing this with you. Not with anyone. But especially not with you. Not another three months from now, not a year from now or ten years from now. I'm sorry, but no. Not tonight not ever. You mean a lot to me. You know you do. And maybe in another time and another place, there could have been a me and you. Maybe. I don't know. But not now."

She nodded in understanding. She wasn't going to hold it against him that he just wasn't ready. Or that he couldn't get involved with her because she'd been best friends with his wife. That was an awkward and unusual circumstance. But her intention wasn't to walk into his house and take over his life, to play mommy to his children.

"I don't expect you to give me forever, Don," she said, as she slowly rose to her feet. "I don't expect to be your wife and a mother to your children. I'm not suggesting that something long term could ever happen between us."

"So what are you suggesting?" he asked. "'Cause from where I stand, it's like you're trying to take her place."

"I would never, ever try that," Angell replied, taking a step closer to him and laying her hands on his broad chest. "I don't want to take her place."

"What DO you want?" he inquired.

"I want to help make you feel better," she whispered. "To make you feel alive. You're lonely and you need someone."

"I don't need to get laid!" he yelled as he backed away from her. "I don't need to fuck somebody to make me feel better! I don't need a goddamn release. I can take care of that shit myself!"

"I know…but wouldn't it be nice to have someone with you, Don? To have someone make you feel good? To have someone curled up to you in the middle of the long, lonely night. To wake up beside someone. To share your bed, even just once, with someone and know that you're still human."

He shook his head. "I'm not sharing my bed, the bed I've shared with my wife, with anyone. Whether it be you or a stranger off the goddamn street. It isn't going to happen. I've got my kids here, Jess! I don't want my kids thinking I'm moving on and forgetting about their mother."

"They don't need to know. How would they know?"

"I'd know!" Flack cried. "I'd know! I'm not doing this, or you. No matter what you say or do. It's not going to happen! I don't want this!"

"You're not cheating on her because you want someone else. She's dead, Don."

"I know she's dead!" he bellowed. "I don't need to be reminded! I live with it every day! And I don't feel like I'd be cheating on her! I just don't want anyone else! What the hell is so hard to understand about that?"

"Don.." she moved closer to him, her voice soft as her hands reached out for him. "It's okay."

"It's not okay!" he yelled, catching her by both wrists and holding her out at arms length. "It's not okay and it's never going to be okay! I appreciate you being here for me and the kids! But I'm not taking that appreciation to a whole new level, okay? It's not going to happen and I want you to…"

"Daddy?" a tiny voice asked from the bottom landing of the stairs.

Both Flack and Angell glanced over to where Daniel stood, in his NHL pyjamas, his mother's old and tattered stuffed cat under his arm, rubbing his eyes with his free hand.

Flack sighed and glared at Angell. A "Look what you've fucking done now" glare. Releasing her arms from his grip, he went to tend to his son. "I'm sorry, buddy," he said. "Did we wake you up?"

He shook his head. "I had a bad dream," he told his father. "I had a bad dream that the bad guys came here and took you away."

"Come here," Flack scooped Daniel up into his arms. "No one is going to come here and take me away, okay?" he stroked his son's head and kissed his sweaty forehead. "No one," he added firmly, his eyes locked on Angell's.

"Promise?" Daniel asked, curling an arm around his dad's neck and laying his head on Flack's shoulder.

"I promise. No bad guys are going to come here and hurt anyone, buddy. How about I take you upstairs and tuck you back in? Read you another story."

"Can I sleep in your bed?" Daniel asked hopefully. "On mommy's side with mommy's pillow?"

"You're the only one I'd let do that," his father replied.

"And will you read me Goodnight Moon?" his son asked.

"That's a little boy story," Flack replied.

"I like it," Daniel said.

"If you like it, I'll read it," his father told him.

"And can I have a drink of water? My throat is itchy."

"I'll get you a drink of water," Flack assured him and started up the stairs. "I've got to take care of some things," he told Angell.

"I'll just wait here," she said. "And we can…"

"I'd actually like it if you saw yourself out," Flack told her. And then turned away and headed up the stairs.

Angell sighed heavily. Tears threatened. It hadn't been her intention to anger him or turn him against her. She'd simply wanted to make him feel better. If even just for a night.

To make herself feel better. Two people helping each other out in their time of grief.

Instead, she was gathering up her things and heading through the darkened living room and letting herself out of the house.

Miserable and alone.

Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing! I appreciate each and every one of you! Even all the lurkers! But please, please, please R and R folks!

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