Well, when I started writing this, it certainly wasn’t going in the way it has with Flack being that angry! And it certainly wasn’t going to be this long! Damn rabbits.

Again, rated for language! And all mistakes are mine, because I didn't send it to my beta!!

Crash and Burn

© Axellia, July 2007

Part Two: Burn

When you feel all alone
And the world has turned its back on you
Give me a moment please to tame your wild wild heart
I know you feel like the walls are closing in on you
Its hard to find relief and people can be so cold
When darkness is upon your door and you feel like you cant take anymore

Let me be the one you call
If you jump Ill break your fall
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night
If you need to fall apart
I can mend a broken heart
If you need to crash then crash and burn
Youre not alone

Savage Garden, Crash and Burn

Donald Flack Junior, by comparison, could be considered a very lucky man. He came from a long, Irish descendant, family who had always been on the right side of the law… or were the law themselves. Their home was comfortable and his father never raised his voice at his mother. He got on well with his sister, he was doted on by his grandmother who insisted that he learn how to dance, and also taught him that a young man should never leave the house unless the shirt he was wearing was clean and ironed, and as soon as he hit puberty, was a hit with the ladies.

He made varsity basketball and was always a starter. Unlike Danny, he wasn’t going to college on a basketball scholarship unless he pulled his grades up. It wasn’t that he was bad at school. It was just that biology was more like chemistry, chemistry was verging on physics, physics was definitely math… and math had letters in it. And lets be honest, Flack’s spelling wasn’t brilliant at the best of time. The only reason he got to play ball at school was because his teachers loved the game.

But that didn’t bother Don. He didn’t want to go to college anyway. No, Flack was going to do what his father, his father’s father, and four more fathers behind him had done. He was going to join the force. And he did, rising quickly to become a narcotics detective.

Narcotics was fun – it got him into all the hottest clubs in town (although for some reason, many of them didn’t stay open for long). And for quite a while, Flack felt like he was Sonny Crockett. That was until he discovered his partner was in the pocket of one Gino Sassone.

He didn’t realise it for two whole years. His partner, one Leah East, was one tough chick, with a surprisingly well informed informant. For two years Flack learnt all that he could off her, and for two years, he reaped the benefits of having the most successful narco detective as his partner. As well as one of the hottest ones in his precinct. Yeah, for two years he tried everything he could to get her to go out with him, but she kept shooting him down, telling him that she wasn’t about to date anyone she worked with.

One night, after a successful bust had brought down one of the meth labs run by one of the three major gangs in the Tri-Borough district, the team went out and celebrated. After months of hard work, part of the Sassone crime family syndicate was behind bars. He should have realised then, with the strange way East had been acting, that something was wrong.

The following morning, he got the call. East’s body had been pulled from the river, a solitary gunshot to the back of the head, execution style.

Three weeks later, homicide still had nothing and Flack was pissed. He marched into homicide and all but ripped the case file from the detective who was working it. As the detective was a day shy of retiring, he handed it over without a fuss. Next he marched up to the crime lab, burst into the office of some pissed-off ex-marine, ranted at him about the incompetence of the guy working the case and then demanded that he point him in the direction of said guy.

Ready to chew the ear of the idiot scientist cop he marched into one of the labs, only to find a really hot chick bent over a microscope. (Seriously, since when were scientists that hot?) He didn’t know it until much later, but he had just met one of his best friends.

It turned out pretty quickly that guy he was trying to find was actually this woman – the fact she had a guy’s name had completely thrown him. Two weeks later, he had his answers, and a thirst for homicide. He put in his transfer the same day he read the rights to East’s killer. He also insisted that this time, there wouldn’t be a partner.

Eighteen months later, he was called away from the opening game of the season between the Red Sox and the Yankees to the death of some chick who’d chosen that time to throw herself in front of a bus (all of the witness so far had confirmed this). He was still cursing her when Aiden turned up, a rookie in tow.

When the first words out of the rookie’s mouth were, “ya kidding me? I gave up prime position seats in Aces (a sports bar) for a suicide. Game days should be national holidays,” Flack knew that he was going to enjoy working with this guy. After a quick discussion with Aiden (a discussion, not gossip) they decided to ask the guy to the bar with him after the shift. Pete’s was a hole-in-the-wall style bar. But the owner always taped major games and played them exactly half an hour after the end of the shift so that the cops could feel like they were watching the game first hand (so long as no one had given the score away in the mean time).

Over Sunday dinner the following weekend, his father had sat him down for three whole hours telling him that Daniel Messer was no good and Flack should stay clear because Danny would be gone very quickly and he didn’t want to see his son go with him.

Flack had done exactly what his mother had expected him to, and ignored his father. He wasn’t stupid. The Messer name had cropped up a few times during his stint in narco, but, whilst he wasn’t exactly sure of the details, he knew that at the very least, they wouldn’t have let Danny join the force if he was as much trouble as his farther seemed to think he was.

So he’d gone out with Aiden and Danny, gotten hopelessly drunk, raising their glasses several times to a beautiful friendship.

His father stopped talking to him then.

He never told either Danny or Aiden that. He knew exactly how they would act. Aiden would more than likely turn up at his parents house and have a rant at his father, or at the very least, there would have been an angry phone call. Danny, on the other hand, would have gone quiet and stopped talking to him – for Flack’s own good, of course, because Danny knew what it was like to have a father one minute, and then not have one the next.

Whilst Danny was like a book, Don kept his feelings close to his chest. Occasionally, if you managed to time it just right, you could see a flicker of emotion that he was actually feeling pass through his eyes, but Flack was the type who didn’t like to burden others with his problems. Which was why, when his mentor screwed up, instead of going straight to Danny (like Danny would have gone straight to him), at the end of his shift, he put his gun in his locker, shut the door and walked out of the precinct, head held high, stopped at the store for some Jack, and went home.

Danny had turned up ten minutes later with a bag of ice. The two never mentioned what had happened. Danny knew that if Flack wanted to talk, he would – but it would be on his own terms. There was no amount of whiskey or alcohol in the world that could get Danny to get Flack to talk. But Danny also knew that company was all Flack needed. And the following morning, when Flack awoke with a hangover from hell, Danny was already cooking him a fry-up, pain killer and water on the coffee table in front of his head.

It was the same thing when Aiden got fired. Whereas Danny wasn’t completely surprised (Aiden was far too temperamental, and Pratt was driving her nuts), although of course fuming, Flack had taken it hard. Aiden had been the first cop that Flack had properly trusted after East, and she had been the one who had clocked up so much overtime with him during those few weeks working on that one case, that Mac had refused to let her work for a couple of days until she had properly rested.

Aiden dying had completely knocked him for six. But when he saw how upset Danny was, those feeling were placed delicately on a shelf and he and Danny had gone out. That night, they had consumed slightly more than a bottle of Jack, and it was somewhere around the second bottle that Danny had decided they were going to name a star after her. It had also been Danny’s bright idea that climbing a tree would get them closer to the sky so they could find her the perfect one. Unfortunately, climbing drunk up a tree was considerably easier than climbing back down it.

With Stella, it had been slightly different. Stella reminded Flack very much of his sister and he got on brilliantly with her, so to see her lying in the hospital bed like that killed him. However, he had remained completely professional, if only for Stella’s benefit (although he had accidentally-on-purpose kicked Frankie’s body just before the coroner had removed the body from the crime scene). He’d arrived home to find a bottle of Jack already waiting for him and a girlfriend who had told him she’d been given very precise instructions from Danny who’d had to work.

Getting Flack to the shrink after he had been caught in that small bang had been Danny’s job, not that Flack said much for the first few sessions. The explosion had shaken him up somewhat, and Danny could see that. He could also see that there was nothing he himself could do, other than sit through each Die Hard with Flack (who was trying very hard not to jump at every explosion). Eventually, Danny could recite all three films word for word, but Flack was back to himself. Which was why, one bright Monday morning, he drove Flack fifteen miles out of the city, to a little psychiatrist’s office, and willingly suffered from Flack’s glowering all the way home.

After Flack had finished with his sessions, he told Danny, in no uncertain terms, that he was never going back, and if he tried to take him, he would “find” some pictures of him naked and drunk, singing karaoke at Pete’s.

So Danny had never tried it again. Presently, however, he was considering whether it was worth it or not. Flack hadn’t been himself since he’d picked Danny up from the hospital. He was certain he was getting pressure from all sides about his friendship with Danny, and whenever he had to walk through the crime lab, he tensed up at the sight of glass being replaced and walls repainted.

Which was why he’d called Stella (who was pretending to be Mac whilst he was in London) and told her that he wouldn’t be coming in today. Now, as he watched Flack standing at the free throw line on the court, he was contemplating how to get his friend back.

Flack held the ball just in front of him, feeling the tiny rubbery nobbles grip at his fingers as he gently spun it in his fingers. He shut his eyes and inhaled deeply, the smell of the ball, the court, his detergent, his cologne, his girlfriend’s perfume, the city rushing up his nostrils. Then he opened his eyes, brought his arm back, and launched the ball at the backboard. It hit with a large slap, leaving the backboard wobbling and the chain of the hoop clanking angrily around in the air, as the ball ricocheted over his head and to the court behind him.

“That did that hoop ever do to you?”

Flack turned around to find Danny picking up the ball with his good hand.

“I mean, I know you’ve never won a game against me here, but that’s your fault.”

Flack arched an eyebrow, “never won a game?” Flack had probably won about 70 percent of the games he and Danny had ever played.

Danny shrugged, bounced the ball a couple of times and made a shot. It circled the rim a couple of times before dropping in. “And the Messer magic continues to live.”

“You shouldn’t be playing with a broken hand,” Flack grumbled as his friend walked over.

“I shouldn’t be doing a lot with a broken hand,” Danny grinned.

“Just because you’re on sick leave doesn’t mean that I want to know what you and Lindsay get up to in your spare time. I still have to work with the woman.”

“Jealous are we?”

“Hello, girlfriend?” Flack reminded him.

“Meh,” said Danny waving his hand, “technicalities.”

“You’re a CSI. You live for technicalities,” Flack grumbled.

“Nope,” Danny shook his head, “I live for days like this when the weather is far too hot for women to be wearing trousers.” He nodded his head at a group of ladies who were walking past in very short skirts.

Flack grinned back, “I can see your point.”

“How ya doin’?” Danny asked him when the women had turned the corner.

Flack gave a non committal shrug and picked the basketball up.

Danny watched as he bounced it a few times and made another shot. As the ball hit the floor and Flack caught it after the bounce, Danny knew what he was going to do. He pulled his shirt off, flung it to one side, and dashed in, catching the rebound before Flack and made a shot.

“You shouldn’t be playing with a broken hand,” Flack told him.

Danny threw the ball at Flack. “Scared I’m gonna kick your ass?”

Two hours later, both men were red in the face, covered in sweat, and lying on the ground trying to catch their breath whilst the sun bore down on their bare chests.

“Didn’t do too badly,” Danny grumbled as he rolled the ball under his head for a pillow.

“Messer, you wouldn’t have won even if your hand wasn’t in a pot.”

“Flack, you were playing like the hoop had personally wronged you. I swear, if ya had dropped that ball in the hoop any harder the thing woulda come crashing down on me.” He glanced over at Flack who was staring up at the cloudless sky. “Or were you imagining the ball was me?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“IA,” Danny told him simply.

“Internal Affairs has nothing to do with the fact that you can’t play basketball for squat,” Flack shot at him.

“Nah,” Danny shrugged, “but it might explain why you’re acting like someone stuck a pole up your ass.”

“Drop it, Messer.”

“Why? You gonna go all Donald Duck on me?”

“Danny, if you compare me to that Duck one more time, I’ll-”

“You’ll what? Bottle it up and sulk at me? Scary stuff.”

Flack muttered something about what Danny could do with the bottle, and where exactly he could stick it, as he got to his feet and started to stalk to the exit. Danny was on his feet and standing in front of him in an instant. “You know what? This has to end.”

“Seriously Danny, get out of my way,” Flack growled, narrowing his eyes.

“No,” Danny told him, crossing his arms.

Flack threw him a filthy look as he stepped around him and continued to the exit. The next think he knew, he was handcuffed to the fence. “Danny – what the fuck?”

“You and me, Don, we gotta talk,” Danny informed him as he stepped back, out of the way of Flack’s fist.

“Messer, you let me out of these things before I stick them down your throat,” Flack growled, yanking at the constraints.

“Yeah, with that tempting offer, of course I will,’ Danny rolled his eyes. “There’s only one way they’re coming off ya. And it isn’t the treat of violence.”

“What do you want me to say, Danny?”

“How about, I’m a jerk?”

“No problem. You’re a jerk. Now get the things off me.”

Danny sighed and leant back against the fence, still just out of Flack’s reach. “You don’t do the talking thing – I get that. But right now you’ve got some rage bottled up inside and it’s not healthy.”

Flack scowled, “trust me, let me go and I won’t keep it bottled up.”

“Now, I promised you that I wouldn’t take ya on any surprise trips again, so I’m not. I suppose this is your own fault, really. Coulda had a professional, but now you’re stuck with me.”

“Fine,” said Flack, “Fine!” He repeated, shouting at his friend. “You wanna know what’s the matter? Fine. Let’s start with my old team. Biggest bust of the fucking decade and instead of congratulating me, they seem to think that I’m treading on their toes because I’m no longer in narco. But wait, it gets better, because, as my ex-partner had her foot in Sassone’s pockets – his bed – they seem to think that I do too. Doesn’t matter that I helped arrest his fuck-up of a son. No!”

Danny had never seen Flack so angry, and he’d never heard him mention anything about his former partner – Aiden had had to fill him on that.

“Seems that Internal Affairs think the same thing, because I’ve spent the last three days dredging up East’s death and trying to convince them that I had nothing to do with it, but they have this idea that I mix with some unsavoury people.” Flack continued to shout at Danny, not even realising what he had said. Danny just stood there, listening. He knew he had a past, and he knew that Flack didn’t blame him for it.

“Internal Affairs seem to think that I’m not only East’s replacement for Sassone, but I’m also moonlighting for the Irish Mob. I’ve had all my finances checked, and then they even had the nerve to check the girlfriend’s accounts! And when they didn’t find anything, they figured it was time to search our apartments! On top of all that, my dad – who hasn’t spoken to me in over six years – doesn’t seem to think that I’m capable of making my own choices, then all of a sudden goes to my chief and demands that I transfer to a different precinct. So when I turn up to work yesterday, I get a roasting because I sent my dad in to do my dirty work. Gragh!” Flack cried, turning to punch the wire fence.

Danny took a step away from the fence as Flack continued to pound at it. Finally, Flack seemed to grow tired and slumped against the fence breathing heavily.

“Your dad stopped talking to you?”

Flack nodded, refusing to look at his friend.

“Six and a half years ago? Because of me?”

Instead of responding, Flack stared past Danny, watching the forgotten basketball move slightly in the breeze.

“Why the fuck didn’t you say anything?” Danny asked angrily.

Flack glared over at him, “because my dad is an ignorant idiot who made his opinion on you based upon your idiot of a father, like everyone else seems to.”

“You didn’t,” Danny muttered.

“Because I’m not an idiot.”

“No, but you are a stubborn bastard,” Danny shrugged.

For a moment, Danny thought he had just crossed the line, as Flack just glared at him. But then his expression softened, “maybe.”

“Maybe?” Danny laughed incredulously, “if I hadn’t have handcuffed you to a fence, were you ever gonna say anything about any of this to anyone?”

“Maybe,” Flack mumbled stubbornly.

“Maybe? Hell is more likely to freeze over.” Danny sighed, “and you are an idiot, for the record.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I know I’m not the easiest person to know – certainly not in this job – my family is never going be forgotten about. Sometimes I think I’m jinxed. I’ve even considered transferring a couple of times, you know, get out of this city and go where no one’s heard of the Messer name. But of the few things that keep me here, one is you.”

Flack arched an eyebrow, “is this the point where you declare your undying love for me?”

“Dude, even if I hadn’t spent months trying to get Lindsay to go out with me, there is no way in hell I’d be saying that. Besides,” he grinned, “I’m way too good for you.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Flack grinned back.

Danny frowned, “are you sure you don’t want to say anything?”

“Shut up, Messer, and carry on with whatever girly chat you seem to think I need.”

Danny rolled his eyes, “I mean it. It’s taken me ages for the team to trust me properly, and you an’ Aid were the only ones who never showed any doubt. Which is why I can’t leave.”

Flack frowned, “I’d still have your back, even if you lived in Outer Mongolia.”

“Firstly, I was looking somewhere a little more local than that, secondly, what I mean was, the way I got your back, is different to how you've got mine.”

“Huh?”

Danny sighed patiently, “you must spend hours telling people I’m not like my father. But I don’t need to do that for you. My job is to make sure you take care of yourself.”

“Danny, my apartment is cleaner than yours.”

“That’s because you have a girlfriend,” Danny corrected him. “You need me to make sure your mind doesn’t implode because you keep ignoring everything that’s bothering you and refusing to talk about it. It’s really not good for you. So, if I have to resort to extreme measures like this every once in a while, I will.”

“Uh-huh. Now who’s the idiot?”

“Okay, so it may not have been the cleverest of ideas, but do you feel any better for it?”

“A little,” Flack admitted somewhat reluctantly. “But it hasn’t solved anything.”

“No, but me and Stella went to IA this morning, so that may have done.”

‘You did what?”

“Well, I may have stood outside the door whilst Stella bit the guy’s head off, but she got him to admit that he’s a jerk and he had nothing.”

“Oh,” Flack bit his lip, “thank you.”

“You should thank Hawkes – it was his idea.”

“Sheldon Hawkes?”

Danny nodded, "he had it in the neck earlier this year, remember. Besides, I’m not the only one looking out for you.”

Flack smiled, “I guess I owe a few beers.”

“And I can solve the problem with your dad, too.”

“Danny, you even think about not talking to me, and I’ll make sure that there’s a physical reason why you can’t talk.”

“I’m pretty certain that you’re not supposed to threaten your friends with violence.”

“I’m pretty certain you’re not supposed to handcuff your friends to fences,” Flack countered.

“You may be on to something there,” Danny agreed. “But how about next time you make it so I don’t have to resort to this.”

“Fine.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart,” Flack added dryly.

“Good,” Danny grinned. “Well, I think it’s time we got out of here.” He grabbed his jacket and started walking.

“Danny,” Flack called after him.

Danny turned, “yeah?”

“You forgetting something?”

Danny shrugged, ‘nope.”

Flack held his wrist up, “You wanna unlock these?”

Danny smiled, “not a chance in hell. I’m gonna wait until I’m a sufficient distance away and then I’m gonna throw you the keys. I’ve already got one cast – I don’t need another.”

“You sure you can throw far enough, Messer, because you’d make that a pretty big head start,” Flack growled at him.

“Don’t worry,” Danny agreed, “I’m well aware of that fact.”

SparkyCSI - I know the feeling - I think it hates me too! (Although it's nice to surprise you, even if I have to put up with mistakes!) And I think my hotmail account has fallen out with me too! It's sent back two emails that I've sent you this past week! But I've been good! How about you?

LaneIA - thank you! It's something that I've always thought too, especially when they give you those little moments on the show. I just hope I do them justice!

Forest Angel - I have no idea where that bit came from (I'm going to lay all blame on the rabbits (:p)) but the thought amused me.

junior051 - I'm glad I made you happy - I hope this chapter will do the same!

Volonta forte - I wouldn't say God - I'd go for crackers! lol. You know, I watched Dumbo when I was little but it scared me (weird, I know!) and I've never really watched it since, but if it sounds Dumbo-esque, I'll give the credit to Disney! And thank you - I tried very hard!