AN: This is a part of a group of collections of oneshots centered around different crossover couples within the CSI-verse. I’m going to try my hardest to post these in order, at least over here anyway, so that they’re followable and it’s not confusing. This one is strictly Flack/Calleigh. It may have mentions of one of the other crossover couples, but the focus of these is going to be Calleigh and Flack. Well, mostly oneshots. The first four chapters is a small four part fic, but there’s not really going to be anything longer than that that’s really connected, and I’ll always specify, so that (hopefully) you won’t get confused.

TIMELINE: Spoilers for this are up to and including “Charge of this Post,” with the exception of mentions of some characters from season 3 for New York, “Rio” for Miami, and “Way to Go” for Vegas.

“Maka,” she began as she answered her phone, just coming in from a scene, and getting ready to make some phone calls and check on alibis.

“It’s Tripp,” Frank Tripp’s gruff accent echoed through the phone, “You know a guy named Don Flack?”

Maka froze at the mention of the name. It was one she hadn’t heard in a while, not mentioned by someone in Miami anyway. Danny had commented that Flack said hello whenever she talked to him on the phone, but that was the extent of it.

“Yeah, I used to work with one, why?”

“There was a shooting down at a bank near the beach,” Tripp explained, “This guy was involved, and he happened to mention that he knew you.”

Maka rolled her eyes before running an annoyed hand through her hair, “You need me to come down there?”

“Not particularly,” Frank began slowly, and Maka smirked.

“Why do I have a feeling there’s a supposed to be a ‘but’ tucked onto the end of that?” she sighed and she heard Frank chuckle through the speaker.

“It’s a big scene, and I figured we could use the extra set of legs is all,” Frank replied, and she shook her head slowly.

“I’m on my way,” she sighed before hanging up. It was going to be a much longer day than she thought.

--

Don Flack watched as the CSIs milled around the bank, processing evidence and bagging and tagging everything. This whole thing wasn’t his fault, no matter what the guy who actually started the whole thing said. He had just been standing in the line at the bank, minding his own business, getting ready to get some cash for when he and his cousin Maria took her kids to Disney World later, and suddenly there was a guy pulling out a gun, screaming like a maniac, and waving the gun very deliberately in his direction. So he did what any sensible, police officer on vacation would do.

He waited until the guy stopped shooting up into the air like a maniac, then tackled him to the ground and tried to wrestle the gun out of his hands, while the bank employees called nine-one-one.

Luckily no one had died, only a couple shot limbs that were no where near life threatening, but the scene was still a big one to be processed and the MDPD needed all the extra hands they could get. And he still had a lot of questions he had to answer, considering he was the supposed reason for the stand off in the first place.

Plus he was in quite a bit of pain. Apparently, tackling suspects? Not so good for abdominal injuries. If Mac didn’t kill him for getting involved in a shooting when he was still on leave from the bombing, his physical therapist was definitely going to make sure he had an appointment for an early grave. However, he must have been covering it pretty well, because none of the officers seemed to have said anything.

“Detective Flack, have you ever seen the man who was firing the weapon before?” the blond woman in front of him asked. Officer Duquesne seemed friendly enough, and she was definitely very pretty. He wasn’t about to give her a hard time about anything, considering that she was doing the same for him, and acknowledging the fact that they were both on the same side.

“Not that I can recall, no,” he replied, “He apparently knew me though. Kept saying that I had screwed up something, and that something was all my fault. He was talking so fast that I’m not sure what he was referring to.”

“Were you armed in any way?”

“Nah,” he shook his head, hearing the sound of the bank door opening and closing, “My piece is in the glove compartment of the rental, but I try not to carry it on me when I’m off the clock.”

“Did you make it seem as though you were armed?”

“Not that I can think of,” he replied.

“Can you go anywhere without getting into trouble?” another voice asked. It was a different voice, but he knew it without even having to blink. He looked up and flashed a smile at the woman who was approaching him, an amused smirk on her face.

“Apparently not,” he sighed, “How you doin, Maka?”

“I’m alright, how bout you?” she began, before looking him up and down, “Your side alright?”

“Peachy,” he lied.

“Bullshit,” she said.

“His side?” Calleigh frowned, giving Maka a look.

“Detective Flack received severe abdominal injuries about two months ago,” Maka explained, “Which he’s on leave for, which is why he’s in Miami.”

“I’m fine,” he said to her through gritted teeth, and she leveled him with a look. He relented, “It just hurts a little. I haven’t tackled someone in a while.” He knew she was concerned, but he wished she hadn’t outted him like that.

“Well, I need his clothes,” Calleigh replied, “After that one of the paramedics can check him out, make sure he’s alright.”

Flack cringed, “You really have to take my clothes?”

“You tackled the suspect,” Calleigh replied gently, taking one of the evidence bags from her kit and the jumpsuit she had grabbed from the back of the Hummer, “You’re probably covered in evidence.”

With a deep sigh, he turned to follow Calleigh out of the room. Maka got ready to do her job, but she couldn’t resist throwing in one last dig before she did so.

“Have fun gettin naked, Flack.”

He turned back and flashed his most sarcastic grin in her direction, before continuing to follow Calleigh into the back of the bank. Natalia turned to Maka at that point, her eyes wide.

“Is it bad that I really envy Calleigh right now?” she shook her head, “How did you work with that every day?”

“You think he’s bad?” Maka said with a smirk, “Wait till you meet Danny Messer.”