DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN CSI:NY OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. I DO HOWEVER OWN SAMANTHA ROSS AND ZACK TANNER.

WE HAVE A WINNER FOLKS! LOOKS LIKE A BEACH WEDDING THIS TIME AROUND!

THANKS TO ALL OF YOU ADDING ME TO ALERTS AND FAVS. AND FOR ALL THE SUPPORT AND KIND WORDS OFFERED UP WHEN I'VE BEEN DOUBTING MYSELF AND MY WRITING SO MUCH LATELY.

MUCH LOVE AND HUGS AND KISSES TO LAURZZ


One bad apple

"She walks into work on Monday
Too much make-up on her face
As if there's something more than time and lines
She's trying to erase
Secret shadows
Paint and powder cannot hide
And for every one she covers up
A new one grows inside

She's the last to leave the office
She's afraid not to go home
She's afraid to be with people
She's afraid to be alone
And when courage feels like cowardice
It all gets too confusing
It's a twisted garden where you grow
Black-eyed Susan

And your mama says:Run for your life
From a path not freely chosen
You can't last
It's a crazy maze of tangled weeds
And your footsteps are all frozen
In the past
It's a game of chance, girl
You can't win for losing."
-Black-eyed Susan, Prairie Oyster


Lindsay glanced up as the door to the unisex change room banged open. She had taken the ten minutes since returning from questioning Terrence Davis to hang up her coat and change out of her winter boots and into a pair of more work friendly shoes. And to check the messages, both text and voice, that had come through while her cell had been on silent.

She said nothing as Samantha stomped into the room and went straight to her locker four away from Lindsay's. Watching silently as her friend angrily punched the security code into the keypad on the front of the door and then through it open with a loud clatter. A piece of paper, that had been folded in two and then stuffed into the locker, fluttered to the ground. Sam mumbled a curse and bent down to scoop it up. Opening it and studying the contents, a slow smirk spread across her face. The glittering gold and silver writing advertising a department run charity costume ball being held at The Waldorf Astoria the day before Valentine's Day. All proceeds from a silent auction and the fifty dollar a person ticket going towards the paediatric oncology ward at St Vincent's Hospital.

"Apparently the kids got to pick the theme," Lindsay said, breaking the silence.

"Disney?" Sam asked. "They couldn't have picked something a little more wild and crazy?"

"Do you think you'll go?" Lindsay asked.

Sam shrugged. "It depends."

"On?"

"Whether or not you're going to go."

Lindsay smiled. "I'm willing to dress up and make an ass of myself if you are."

"Disney could actually be interesting," Sam said, as she placed the piece of paper on the top shelf inside her locker. Shrugging out of her jacket, she hung it on the hook in the back. "I actually think I know what my costume is going to be."

"Already? You've known about it for all of thirty seconds," Lindsay laughed.

"Think about it, bumpkin. It's Disney. And what Disney character does Don always refer to me as?"

Lindsay smiled brightly. "You as Tinkerbell is so utterly perfect," she declared.

"I'll have to look up costume stores on the internet," Sam said, toeing off her boots and placing them on the floor of the locker. She grabbed a pair of simple black flats from a plastic bag hanging on the side hook and dropped them onto the floor. "Or maybe even the Disney Store knows where I can get an adult sized Tinkerbell costume. I want the whole nine yards. Cute little green outfit, sparkly wings, magic wand."

"Why bother with an adult size?" Lindsay teased. "You'll probably fit in a kids one."

"Ha, ha, ha," Sam said with a smirk. "Very funny coming from someone that can shop in the junior's department."

"Well if you're going with Tinkerbell, I am riding the Peter Pan train," Lindsay told her. "I'm going to go as Wendy. Do you think we can manage to both convince Danny and Flack to go with us and to get them to wear costumes?"

"It's never going to happen," Sam laughed. "Don wouldn't be caught dead going to something like that. He'd donate the fifty bucks to the charity itself. But there's no way I could get that man to dress up in a costume."

"Danny will laugh his head off if I even dare asking him," Lindsay said. "I think I'll wait until he gets the flier in his locker and see what smart ass comment he comes out with until I even venture into asking him to take me. But something tells me that you and I will be living the single life that night."

"If I'm not already living the single life," Sam snorted as she slipped into her shoes.

"Why would you say that? Did you and Flack get into that huge of a fight after I left?"

"Let's just say he said a lot of things that made sense. About me not being able to separate the business and the pleasure."

"Doesn't mean the two of you have to break up," Lindsay said. "Just means that both of you need to work on keeping those separate."

Sam gave a small smile and grabbed a bottle of extra strength Tylenol from the top shelf. "You don't have to be so diplomatic," she said. "You can just say that I have to work on keeping those things separate."

Lindsay sighed. "I don't want to get into another fight with you, Samantha."

"And I don't really feel like turning into an uber bitch anymore today," the brunette said and popped the lid off of the pain killers and dumped three into the palm of her hand. "That little bitch Terrence Davis has given me the worst headache of my life."

Lindsay stood up and went to her open locker and snagged a half empty bottle of water from the top shelf. "I'm sure some of my cooties won't bother you," she said with a wink, as she twisted the top off the bottle and held the beverage out to her best friend.

"I think I got a fair share of your cooties Friday night when you decided to play tonsil hockey with me," Sam laughed, giving a nod of appreciation as she accepted the drink and swallowed the pills with a large gulp.

"Admit it, Sam," Lindsay closed up her locker. "You've never been thoroughly or enjoyably kissed in your entire life."

Sam nearly spit water clear out of her nose. "I'll be sure to tell Don you're questioning his kissing abilities," she said through a fit of coughs.

"I'm sure he has mad skills," Lindsay said, as she straddled the bench and then lay down on her back. She yawned noisily and closed her eyes. "Think you could wake me up in a couple of hours? I'm beat. I need sleep. I crave sleep."

"Tell Danny to quit ravishing you so often so you can get some damn rest."

"Never," Lindsay said with a giggle. "I couldn't last without getting laid at least twice a day."

"Twice a day?" Sam laughed. "Lucky girl."

"Give in to the guy and you could probably double that."

"Probably," Sam laughed. "Let's just say when Valentine's night gets here, that man won't know what hit him. I am going to thoroughly use and abuse him. And he's going to love it and come back for more."

"I don't doubt that one bit."

Sam gave a small yawn and put a foot on either side of the bench and laid down on her back as well. So that the top of her head was touching the top of her best friend's.

"Wouldn't it be so funny is the Wicked Witch of the West walked in right about now and caught us taking it easy?" Lindsay asked.

"You have got this serious hate for Stella going on lately."

"It's not a hate," Lindsay said. "It's a tolerance. I merely tolerate her at the best of times lately. Maybe she's going through menopause or something."

"Maybe," Sam sighed. "Or maybe she needs to get laid."

"That makes two of you," Lindsay said with a giggle.

"Hey, I am getting some satisfaction, you know. It's not like I'm not putting out in other ways."

"Nothing can make up for lack of the Putang pie," Lindsay declared.

"Putang pie?" Sam laughed hysterically. "What the hell is Putang pie?"

"It's a saying of Danny's," Lindsay managed through her own laughter. "The wrestler The Rock used to say it a long time ago and stupid shit like that embeds itself into my fiance's head."

"It's like Donnie and his sealing the deal. I mean, who actually calls it that?"

"We have some strange men," Lindsay sighed.

"We do," Sam agreed. "But we'd die without them."

The other woman nodded in agreement and then lapsed into a comfortable silence.

"Look Linds…" Sam said several minutes later. "…about the way I acted outside of Davis' club. I never should have talked to you like that. I feel like shit doing for it. I know that you're looking out for me. And I want you to know that I appreciate it."

"I do know, Sammie. And I also know that it probably wasn't easy to talk to Angell today."

Sam sighed. "It sucked to be honest. I hated being put in that position. I wish Don had have just been honest with her right from the start. Because some of the things that she said…"

"She was hurt," Lindsay reasoned. "I'm sure she didn't mean anything that came out of her mouth."

"Well it was still nasty. Not that I really blame her. I lash out too when someone's pissed me off. She just wanted to hurt me as bad as I hurt her. And trust me, she succeeded."

"Was it really that bad?"

Sam nodded. "She got up in my face about deserving Zack."

Lindsay snorted. "No one deserves Zack. And speaking of which, did he ever call back after I told him to fuck off?"

"No. I'm sure it will keep him off my ass for a little while."

The door to the locker room clicked open and Lindsay slightly raised her head in time to see her fiance journey in, then stop dead in his tracks, eyes wide at the sight in front of him.

"What in the hell…." Danny said.

"Hi, honey!" Lindsay chirped.

"Uh…hi…." he responded, slowly approaching the bench. "What are you two doing?"

"Girl time," Lindsay told him. "You can leave now."

"You two can't have girl time somewhere else?"

"Five minutes," Lindsay said, resting her head back on the bench. "Come back in five minutes."

"But I need to get something out of my locker," he argued.

"Five minutes," Lindsay insisted.

Sam raised her one hand to wave goodbye.

"Women," Danny huffed and turned on his heel and walked back towards the door.

"I love you!" Lindsay called.

He snorted and closed the door behind him as he left the room.

Both Lindsay and Sam giggled.

"He'd go crazy without me," Lindsay declared.


"Quite the shock isn't it," Zack commented, smirking as he returned to his seat at the side of Flack's desk. "I bet the last thing you ever dreamed of when you woke up this morning beside that beautiful girl of mine was that her past was going to come back and bite you, and her, in the ass."

"Let me make something very clear to you," Flack said, as he calmly slid the badge and identification across his desk towards the unwelcome visitor. "I don't care who you work for. United States Marshall's, FBI, CIA, DHS or even the goddamn United States Postal Service. You don't come here, to my city, and walk in here like you own the place and park your ass at my desk and start talking bullshit. What you did, what I know you're capable of? You're not welcome here, Zack. So take your shield and ID and take a hike."

"Don't try and go big and bad New York City cop on me," Zack snorted. "I eat pieces of shit like you for breakfast."

Flack smirked. "No. What you do is prey on women half your size and scare them into staying with you because you're not man enough to have a real relationship with someone. You can kick a dog to make them stay, Zack. But they don't look at you with respect. They look at you with fear."

"And I bet you think you know all there is to know about sweet, innocent little Samantha Ross, don't you," the other man snorted. "How long you been messing around with her now? Three months? That's about right, isn't it? It's been about that long since you started sticking your nose into mine and Sam's business."

"You and Samantha don't have any business," Flack informed him. "And to go back to what you said a few minutes ago? About her being yours? You lost her over a year ago, Zack. She left you. Remember? The day that she dumped your sorry ass is the day she stopped being yours. And with all respect to her, she doesn't belong to anyone. She's a grown woman with a mind of her own. She's not a piece of property or a possession."

"Spare me your feminist bullshit," Zack laughed. "The minute that a woman lies down in bed with you she's yours. Second that she decides to open her goddamn legs, you mark that as your property. So lay off this politically correct, diplomatic crap."

"I don't know what trailer park in Oklahoma you learned your morals and values at Zack, but where I come from? Men, real men, don't treat women like that. I don't know everything that went down between you and Sam. 'Cause really, what went on in her life before she came into mine, is none of my business. But she's told me enough that I've got a pretty good picture of the kind of person you are."

"And what kind of person is that, Detective Flack?" he asked. "Go ahead. Cough up a character sketch on me."

"Guys like you? That beat up on women? Degrade them, humiliate them, break bones, and put them in ICU? Guys like you are the perps we take into a darkened alley somewhere and give an old fashioned, passionate ass whupping to. And once we get guys like you to lockup, we spread the word around the other cons that you like to smack around the ladies and force yourself on them, and pretty soon, your watching over your shoulder each and every time you drop the soap in the shower. And you? You'd be extra popular. 'Cause the minute I let it spill that you used to be a cop…" Flack shook his head. "You'd be the most popular bitch on the cell block."

A small smiled tugged at the corner of Zack's mouth. "You as tough as you talk, New York? Or is that what you do? Talk?"

"Don't fuck with me," Flack warned. "Don't fuck with me and most of all, don't fuck with Samantha. Because if I find out, after I kick your ass on out of here, that you went anywhere near her? Trust me, you will answer to me. And I won't be as polite and welcoming as I am right now."

"Well how knight in shining armour of you,' Zack snorted. "Willing to protect your girl's honour at all costs. Unlucky for you that I happen to be that kind of guy to. And what you've been doing with my girl…."

Flack gave a small laugh and shook his head. "You just don't get it, do you? It's been over a year, Zack. Deal with it. Samantha doesn't want anything to do with you. She's moved on with her life. Accept it and move on. Find someone else's life to make a living hell. But leave her, and us, alone. Am I making myself clear?"

"Crystal. Only I don't take threats from punk ass flatfoots. So now," Zack leaned in close to Flack, his voice low and dead serious. "It's my turn to start making a couple of threats and issuing some warnings."

"We're done here," Flack said dismissively, picking his pen back up and going back to the paper work in front of him. "You need directions to the exit or a personal escort?"

"Listen to me you little shit," Zack hissed. "Because of you, Samantha won't return my calls. Because of you, she wants nothing to do with me. Because of you, she won't come home. Where she belongs."

"Because of me?" Flack laughed, not looking up from his work. "Because of me, she's finally happy and finally coming to terms with what a pathetic, sick and twisted prick you are. Because of me, she doesn't have to put up with the kind of shit you laid on her day in and day out. So do me a favour. Stand up and walk your ass away from my desk before I personally boot you on out of here. I'm a busy man, Zack. I've got work to do. I don't have the time to deal with shit like this. So thanks for stopping by, but get the hell out of here."

"You think you know her?" Zack asked. "You think that three months with her makes you an expert on what Samantha is like? You should be thanking me for coming here and offering to take her off your hands."

Flack sighed heavily, tossed his pen down onto the paper, and turned furious blue eyes on the man sitting next to him. "Maybe you didn't hear me. I'm a busy man. I have a lot of work to do. And that work does not include sitting here arguing with a deranged idiot who can't accept the fact his ex broke up with him. Shit happens, Zack. Fucking deal with it and get the hell out of my face."

"I spent years with her!" Zack hissed. "Years! For years she lied to me and manipulated me! Twisted me and turned me until I didn't know what end was up. I know what she's like! She's cold and vindictive and will fuck you over the second you turn your back. She's got you wrapped around her little finger already. Get the hell out while you still have a chance. I can control her! I know how to deal with her when she gets in her crazy assed moods. You won't know what the hell ever hit you. You really want to get your heart and your brain mangled like that?"

"You really want me to have to personally show you the fucking door?" Flack asked, his temper, and his voice, rising.

"Consider this a favour, kid. Consider me being a Good Samaritan to you. A guardian angel of sorts."

Flack laughed. "Guardian angel? Messenger of death is more like it. Just shut your goddamn trap and get the hell out of here, Zack."

"If you knew what was good for you, you'd walk away. You'd leave her alone and let her come home."

"Let me tell you how it is, Zack," Flack fought to keep his anger in check as he turned his chair to face the other man head on and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together. "I don't give a shit what you have to say about her. Because all of this crap you're spewing? That's just showing me that you're nothing more than some punk ass bitch whose bitter that he can't have the girl. And if you think for one goddamn second that I'm buying a word of what you're saying, your head needs a serious shake my friend. I'm not walking away from Samantha. Just like she's not walking away from me. She's moved on. And I'm sorry if that pathetic, minute brain of yours can't quite grasp the concept."

"I'm doing you a favour here, New York. Trying to spare you a world of hurt."

"And I'm going to cause you a world of hurt if you don't get the fuck out of my face. You hire a PI to spy on me and Sam? Don't even try denying that. I've got eyes and ears on the street. I know it was you. And if you don't…"

"Who's your friend?" Scagnetti asked, as he suddenly appeared at his desk that was pushed against Flack's. Two take out cups of steaming black coffee in his monstrous hands. He had seen the intensity in his partner's eyes the moment that he stepped off the elevator from making a beverage run. He had noticed the way Flack's jaw was clenched tightly and how anger and irritation took over his whole face and body.

"Who the hell are you?" Zack asked, eyeing the much larger, stronger man with disgust on his face.

"I'm his partner. And when I see my partner ready to jump Bogart on someone's head, I feel I have a right to ask the questions."

"This is Zack," Flack said, looking up at Scagnetti with a smirk on his face. "You know. Zack from Arizona?"

"Little Brooklyn's ex bastard?" Scangetti asked with a frown as he passed Flack his coffee. "Ooops," he said, glaring at Zack. "Did I say that out loud? I meant ex-boyfriend. My apologies."

Flack smirked and sipped at his coffee. "Zack's going to be working out of New York City," he told his partner. "As a US Marshall."

"Oh goody!" Scagnetti cried, than gave a snort and a roll of his eyes. "Pardon me while I keep my enthusiasm in check."

"He also came to have a talk with me about Sammie," Flack added.

"You actually call her that?" Zack asked. "She used to get pissed at me when I tried to call her that."

"She has no complaints when I do it," Flack told him. "So what does that tell you right there?"

"Should be telling you a hell of a lot," Scagnetti said. "Like fuck off and leave her alone. Your coffee okay, Flack?"

"Perfect. Why?"

"Just checking. I was going to take off for a little walk. Thought maybe I could use returning a shitty coffee to the cafeteria as an excuse for what I really feel like doing at this moment."

"And what's that?" Flack inquired.

"I don't know…maybe breaking some sorry ass sonofabitch in half. You know my soft spot for guys that beat up on women."

"Talk a walk, Tony," his partner encouraged. "I can take care of said sonofabitch myself."

Scangetti's eyes narrowed as he looked down at Zack. "Make sure you're long gone by the time I get back. Like preferably out of the city."

"If you're heading back up to the cafeteria, Scag, grab me something to eat while you're up there?" Flack called to the older man as he headed off. "Like something small and sweet?"

"No eating Little Brooklyn while you're on the clock, Flack!" Scagnetti teased without looking back.

Flack grinned, took a swig of his coffee and turned back to Zack. "So where were we? Oh yeah. You were getting ready to take a walk."

"I see my reputation precedes me," Zack commented.

"And it's going to follow your ass on out of here, too," Flack told him. "So do me a favour. Take yourself, and the shit your talk about MY girl and get as far away from me as possible."

"Just thought I'd give you a fair warning," Zack told him as he stood up. "I take it you're one for pain and suffering."

"As long as Sammie's dishing it out in the bedroom, whatever she wants to lay on me is fine with me."

Zack smirked. "You got a smart mouth, don't you."

Flack smiled. "One of my finer qualities. MY girl happens to like my mouth."

"If you value that mouth and YOUR girl, you'll be watching whose toes you step on, Detective Flack."

"Been threatened by worse then you. Hell, I've had my stomach blown open from a bomb and an artery tied together with a shoelace. I think I can handle you. So thanks for stopping by."

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Zack said, and clipping his badge to his pants and slipping his identification back into coat pocket, headed off through the bull pen.

"Hey Zack!" Flack called to him.

The other man paused and turned around.

"The exit is that way!" Flack jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Don't even be thinking about going up to that crime lab."

Zack didn't respond. He simply shoved his hands in his coat pockets and walked calmly past Flack's desk on his way towards the exit.

Flack snorted and shook his head. Picking up his cell phone from where it sat next to his mounds of case files, he pressed two on his speed dial and waited for the familiar voice to answer.

"Yeah…Messer?" he said into the phone. "I've got a huge favour to ask you…"


Terrence Davis' alibi had checked out.

Of the thirty-two employee names he had supplied Flack with, Lindsay and Sam had selected a random few a piece to call. All confirmed that their boss had entered the club, through the rear employee entrance, at roughly quarter to nine. And all had also seen Monique, the same girl behind the bar that very afternoon, head into Terrence's office at nine and report back to her post a couple of minutes past nine fifteen. Looking relaxed, at ease, and as one employee had so eloquently put it "well fucked".

It had been the last name that Davis had submitted that had turned out to be the case breaker. His own sister. She had no reliable alibi and couldn't account for her whereabouts around her ex-husband's time of death. Too high on the junk, she had told Lindsay, who after hanging up, had promptly called Flack and told him of the sister's shady behaviour and less than cooperative demeanour.

In the end, Christopher Rollin's had indeed died at his own hand. Analysis of his suicide not had proved that he was not under any duress at the time he had written it, and that, when compared to documents boasting his hand writing, he had indeed penned the note and under his own free will. His ex wife, aching with withdrawal and desperate for a fix, had lasted less than five minutes in interrogation against Flack. She admitted, with no shame whatsoever, that she had gone to her ex husband's apartment in hopes of asking him for a reconciliation -mostly because he was a pushover and would both take her back and support her habit- and had found his door unlocked. Curiosity, and the chance to pilfer some goods if her ex wasn't around, had been too much for her to bear and she had let herself into the apartment.

Only to find her ex, weapon still clutched in his hand, dead at the kitchen table, blood and brain matter splattered to hell and gone. She had calmly -even more calmly then how she told the story- pocketed the gun and then found a pair of tweezers in the medicine cabinet and removed the bullet from the hole it had left in the adjacent living room wall.

After that, she'd simply left.

When Flack had asked why in the hell she'd even do something like that and not just call the police, she'd rubbed the thumb and middle and forefinger of one hand together and declared it was all about the green, baby. She was the sole benefactor of a massive life insurance policy her ex-husband had taken out on himself and hadn't had enough brains to remove her name from.

Everyone knows that insurance companies don't pay out when there's a suicide.

And, she'd added, as she was being lead out of the room by a uniform, she had learned everything she needed to know about covering up the act by watching crime shows on television.

Now that the case had been closed and previous work either completed or well on it's way to being finished, Samantha was taking the opportunity to call it an early day. Well, earlier then most, considering she'd worked nearly two weeks of solid over time and couldn't remember the last time she'd managed to make it out at the time she was scheduled to be done at. She was looking forward to relaxing for the rest of the evening. It was only ten after six. With Flack having to work late in order to catch up on paper work that had been put on the back burner after spending the morning in court, Danny and Lindsay had invited her out to dinner. And while she was actually exhausted and wanted to do nothing more than go home and draw herself a steaming bath and spend an hour in it before climbing into her most comfortable pyjamas. And then skipping dinner in favour of getting some much needed sleep. But in the end, she had given in to a very persistent Danny.

She was standing behind her desk, coat half on and half off as she finished up some last minute tasks when a soft knock came to the open door of her and Danny's shared office. She glanced away from her computer screen and gave a brief smile at the tall, dark and handsome man gracing her doorway.

"Safe to come in?" Flack asked.

"I'm technically off the clock," she replied. "I've turned off the bitchy, she-Rambo side of me for the night."

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he shoved his hands in the pockets of his dress pants and entered the office. "Hell of a thing about Terrence's sister, huh?"

"It's one of the stranger stories I've heard," Sam said. "But I guess people are capable of doing anything when they're desperate for cash. What's the word on her from the DA?"

"Last I heard, they were going to charge her with attempt to commit insurance fraud. There's nothing else they can really nail her on."

"Too bad being a strung out, crack head isn't considered a felony," Sam sighed. "They had kids, though. What's going to happen to them?"

"Apparently Terrence's mother has them. CPS didn't see a reason not to give them to her. She's got a nice place to live up in Far Rockaway, she's a church going woman, does all sorts of volunteering and what not in the community."

"Too bad some of her selfishness and charity didn't rub off on some of her kids," Sam commented dryly.

"Guess somewhere along the line, they lost their way," Flack reasoned. "I'm just glad that Terrence had nothing to do with it. There wouldn't have been too much I could have done to keep him out of prison this time."

"What a shame it would have been to lose your golden cow. So what now? You've come to ask me, or even order me, to go and apologize to the poor little boy for being so mean to him today?"

"I'd never order you to do anything, Samantha. I'm not your boss or your keeper. You and I didn't agree with the way you handled things. Doesn't mean you were wrong or I was right. Or vice-versa. We just had differences of opinion."

"If that's what you want to call it," she said.

"Look," Flack sighed. "I didn't come up here to fight with you, babe. I just came up here to be with you."

A smile tugged at her lips but she didn't respond.

"So you're heading out now?" he inquired.

"That's usually what off the clock means," she replied. Hating the sound of her own voice and the sarcasm and indifference that trickled from her mouth. She turned away from her work once more and gave him a genuine smile. "I'm just finishing up a couple of things," she said in a softer tone.

"You going out with Danny and Lindsay?"

Sam nodded. "Just for dinner and a couple of drinks. Are you sure you can't get away earlier? Even if it's just for a break?"

"I'm swamped, babe. I'm lucky I was even able to get away for a few minutes to come up and see you before you left."

After asking Danny to make sure to get Sam home safely and to stay with her until he was able to get home, Flack had then had to explain to his best friend was he was going all 'paranoid, overprotective bastard', as Danny like to call it. Flack had told the CSI, sparing not even the smallest detail, about his encounter with Zack Tanner. Everything from the ex from hell making a career change that now saw him working out of the city, to the things that Zack had said about Samantha and how he was there to spare Flack a lifetime of pain and suffering.

The only three people aware of Zack's presence in New York City, were Flack, Scagnetti and Danny, and all three had agreed to keep it that way. There was no reason to tell Samantha what had gone down until Flack was able to, in the privacy of her own home, tell her himself. News of her ex showing up out of the blue would only unnerve her and undoubtedly frighten her. The longer Flack was able to keep her away from Zack the better.

And until Flack was able to get to her place, that was Danny's job.

"Do you know what time you're going to be done at?" she asked, trying her best not to sound too anxious or needy as she saved her work and logged off on the computer.

"Couple more hours," Flack replied. "I'll be off at nine at the latest."

"And are you going to go back to your place or…."

"Depends where you're going. You going back to my place?"

She smiled. "I was going to go home. As in my home."

"I've got the spare key you gave me," he said. "Unless you want it back."

She frowned as she slipped her arm into her jacket. "Why would I want that?" she asked. "Do you want to give it back?"

"No…I was just thinking that maybe after this afternoon you wouldn't want me coming around anymore…"

"Don't be silly, Donnie," she said. "Just because we got into a fight doesn't mean I don't want you around. We are going to fight you know."

"I know. It's just…we seem to fight a lot."

"Some couples are just like that," she reasoned, grabbing her purse from it's resting place under her desk. She'd already gone to her locker and been halfway out the door when she realized there was still some work awaiting her attention.

"I guess," Flack said with a shrug. "I just don't like us being like that."

"So what do you suggest?" she asked. "That it's something we work on? Together? Listening and talking more instead of jumping to conclusions and biting each other's heads off?"

"I think that's a good start," he replied.

"And we can start on that when…."

"When I walk you to the elevator and kiss you goodbye," he said with a cheeky grin.

She gave one of those smiles that he'd found so damn adorable about her the first day they'd met. A smile that wrinkled the corners of her eyes and crinkled that flickered splattered nose. "I thought we are keeping things separate," she said, walking around her desk to join him where he stood. "I mean, you are on the clock, are you not?"

"Smart ass," he smirked, and brushed her lips lightly with his.

"I wouldn't want you to get fired or anything," she teased, as he followed her out of the office. She closed the door behind them and waited for the dull click and the red light to flash on the security keypad that indicated everything was locked up tight.

"I doubt I'm going to get fired for spending five minutes with my girl," he told her, taking one of her tiny hands in one of his much larger, stronger ones.

"I'd hate for people to see us holding hands," she winked up at him playfully. "I mean, we haven't exactly managed to tell anyone yet."

"I told a few people," Flack said. "Scagnetti and some of my guys. Mac…"

Sam's eyes widened. "Mac knows? You told him?"

Flack nodded. "I just gave him the heads up. In case Angell decided to open her big yap when she came into work tomorrow. I didn't want him finding out from someone else."

"And what did he say?"

"What does Mac always say in situations like this? The same thing he said to Danny and Monroe behind closed doors. To keep things separate. To carefully tread that fine line between business and personal. And to not let our feelings for each other jeopardize cases or the integrity of the lab."

"And did you tell him that we're adults and we know how to conduct ourselves as such?" Sam asked with a snort. "I mean, seriously. How old does he think we are?"

"He's just concerned about the lab, Sammie. Doesn't want any problems. Told me how difficult office relationships can be. Especially when they go south and the two parties still have to work together. That things can get nasty and complicated and how he didn't have the time or the patience to play referee."

"And what did you say?"

"I told him we weren't planning on breaking up. Ever. So he didn't have to worry about that."

"Did you really say that?" she laughed. "That we weren't ever planning on breaking up?"

"I did."

"And what did Mac say?"

"He gave me this look that clearly let me know he thought I'd lost my mind. But it's all good. Once he starts getting him some of the new deputy inspector, he'll lighten up."

"Donnie!" Sam exclaimed and slapped his stomach with her free hand. "You shouldn't talk about stuff like that! That's how rumours start!"

"Rumours start when Mac Taylor asks the dragon lady out for coffee," Flack told her. "I just pass along the information."

"And who told you this even happened?"

"A very, very reliable source."

"So it's hearsay."

"It's not hearsay, Sammie. It actually happened. The night after that whole madness with all those different Mac Taylor's. Was that not an episode of The Twilight Zone or what?"

"I can honestly saw that was the first time I ever saw someone set themselves on fire," Sam said with a shudder. "And I hope it is also the last. Can you imagine that, Donnie? Do something like that over losing someone you love?"

"Grief destroys some people," he said. "Some people never recover from things like that, babe. And I think most guys, when they're that crazily and desperately in love, would be more than willing to lay down their own life for the woman they're nuts about."

"You don't find that a little…I don't know…scary?"

"What? Willing to sacrifice yourself for the person you love?"

She nodded.

He shrugged. "Hasn't scared me for over a year now," he said.

She smiled. Dropping his hand, she sneaked her arm around his waist, under his suit jacket. "We weren't together a year ago."

"Doesn't mean I wasn't feeling things like that, Sam. And God knows you've given me more than a few scares and a handful of grey hairs since we first met. So I can just imagine what you have in store for me now that we're actually together."

"Well I promise you I will go easy on you," she said, as they stopped at the elevators and he reached out and pressed the down button.

"Danny's already waiting downstairs?" Flack asked.

"I told him I'd met him and Linds at the restaurant," Sam replied.

Flack struggled to hide a frown. "Why'd you do that?" he inquired.

"I was running behind. Ruby Tuesday's is always crowded so I sent them ahead to grab a table. Why?"

"No reason," he said with a shrug. "You want me to walk you over?"

"Aren't you working?"

"It's a five minute walk," he told her.

"A five minute walk I've taken tons of times," she reminded him. "I don't need you walking me there. I'm a big girl. I'll be fine."

"Just thought it would be a nice, cute, boyfriend and girlfriend thing for us to do," he reasoned.

"You can do some nice, cute boyfriend stuff for me when you get to my place," she told him.

He sighed and nodded. Knowing that this was a no win situation for him. Letting her head off alone ran the risk of Zack confronting her and spilling all about his talk with her new boyfriend down in the precinct earlier that day. Not to mention what Zack might actually do to her. But if Flack persisted in walking her to the restaurant, Sam would get defensive and indignant and demand to know why the hell he was insistent on treating her like a child. And that would only lead to him having to tell her about Zack before he was prepared to.

The chime for the elevator sounded and the doors opened up.

"You're not going back downstairs?" Sam asked, as she stepped on and pressed the button for the lobby.

"I've got some lab techs I need to go and put the fear of God into it. See if I can't make them wet their pants."

"They'll be diving for cover as soon as they see you coming," she laughed. "So I guess this is goodbye."

He shook his head and laid a hand on the elevator doors to keep them open as he leaned in to press a long, deep kiss on her lips. "It's just see ya later," he said, pecking the tip of her nose before stepping back out into the hall.

"In a little while," she said with a smile.

He nodded and gave her a wink before the doors closed. Separating them.

Flack sighed heavily and briefly closed his eyes and rubbed at the back of his neck. Hoping that she didn't manage to find her way into even the smallest bit of trouble during her short jaunt to meet her friends for dinner. He turned on his heel to head towards the labs, and found himself nearly chest to chest with a wide eyed, seemingly horrified, Adam Ross.

"You?" Adam squeaked. "My sister? You and my sister?" He gestured wildly at the elevators.

Flack smiled and clapped a hand on the younger man's shoulder as he stepped past him. "Surprise," he said with a chuckle, and kept on walking.

Adam shuddered at the mere thought of the brash and abrasive homicide detective and his sister indulging in anything more then friendship.

"Now that's going to give me nightmares," he declared, making a mental note to call his lovely older sister and ream her out for keeping such a secret from him.

And to ask her just what in the hell she thought she was doing.


Thanks to everyone that is reading and reviewing. I appreciate each and every one of you. And thanks to the lurkers too! I know there's lots of you and it would really, really make my day if you'd just drop me even the quickest, smallest of reviews.

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