A/N: And so begins my AU story, picking up right after Snow Day. As I said before, depending on what happens in S4 they may rejoin but for now it will be a "happier" version of Flack and Gus with original cases. Calling it an experiment.

---

Flack waited all night for Gus to come back, figuring she just needed time to cool down. She didn't though. He figured he would see her the next day that she had crashed with one of the team. She hadn't.

In desperation Flack marched into Mac's temporary office. “Where did she go, Mac?“

“What are you talking about?” Mac looked up confused.

“Gus, where did she go, your place, a hotel?" Flack's voice cracked.

Mac felt his eye twitch slightly, what had Gus done now? "I have no idea, what is going on Don?”

“Gus, last night she told me she couldn’t marry me for my own good and she disappeared“.

“Disappeared?”

“Like a ghost“, Flack confirmed.

Just then Mac‘s phone rang. Mac answered gruffly, “Taylor. Yes, yes. No. She did what? Well do you know where she was going? I see. Yes. Alright. I’ll let you know if I hear from her”. Mac hung up and sighed, “Daddino. Gus tried to turn in her badge yesterday. Daddino wouldn’t let her, thankfully. Gave her a leave of absence instead. He said he didn’t know where she was headed”.

“This is crap, Mac”, Flack said angrily.

“She's spooked Flack, she still thinks everyone she loves will die on her. She probably couldn't handle it when we all could have been killed and now she's running”.

“But we didn’t no one did” Flack pointed out, slamming his fist against the desk.

“That doesn’t change that she probably went into shock and just started running” Mac replied.

Flack‘s eyes flashed with hot anger,“Well that's just great, so am I supposed to just hang around until she calls us up from some dung hut in Durka-durka?”

Mac rubbed at his face before speaking “No, you are going to find her and drag her back here and get married to her and prove to her that she is allowed to love someone“.

“And just how the hell am I supposed to do that?” Flack’s jaw worked furiously.

Mac sighed and threw his hands up, “You are a detective Flack, go detect”.

---

Gus felt the cool night air through the open window of the rental car, she was relieved at the light traffic making her escape easier. She shook her head as she attempted to find something on the radio that would be able to penetrate her mile a minute thoughts, but nothing seemed to be doing the trick. “What are you doing, Broussard?” she asked herself for the hundredth time that night.

When she had found herself at the rental counter at Grand Central Station, she wasn’t entirely sure she shouldn’t be sent to the mental ward. She was also desperately trying to erase Flack’s wounded expression from her memory. Gus forked over her credit card for a convertible, knowing it would be easy as hell to track, but not entirely caring. She knew either Flack or Mac would be clapping down on her financials as soon as they figured out she had skipped town. Not so deep down in heart, Gus knew she would be calling one or both of them as soon as figured out what it was she was doing.

---

Earlier in the day after not entirely convincing the medic she wasn’t having a complete breakdown, Gus tracked down Daddino in his office. “I can’t do this, Loo” she said kicking the door closed behind her.

“You have had one hell of a day, Broussard” Daddino replied with a serious look on his face.

Gus’ tone was pleading as she unclipped her badge and slid it towards him, “It’s way more than that, Tony”. Daddino did not reply. Gus shrugged, “Gangs, hostages, the lab blowing up…all that is only the tip of the iceberg. I just-” her voice cracked, “I need a break, I feel like I have been running at full speed for the past 20 months and it feels like things are catching up to me”.

Daddino stared at Gus for a long moment, it was true the girl had been through a lot in the past two years, or according to her file, most of her life. Gus was a good cop, but judging by her 1,000 yard stare, she was a good cop on the verge of burning out. “So you quitting on me, kid?” Daddino asked finally, gesturing to her badge.

Gus’ voice trembled, “I don’t know entirely. I know I need a break, some time. I gotta deal with some things”.

“Just what is your plan, Broussard?” Daddino sounded almost amused.

“I don’t really have one, but I was thinking of heading back down to New Orleans, see what is really going on”.

Daddino leaned back in his chair, “How about we call this a temporary leave then, a perk of having taken down the biggest one of the biggest crime families on the eastern seaboard”.

“I don’t have that much leave time, Loo” Gus countered.

Daddino tapped his pen against his desk, “How about you let me worry about the paperwork, kid?”

“I don’t want any favors”.

“It ain’t a favor, I can’t afford to permanently lose someone with your arrest record. Besides, it might be good PR or something”.

“Now you sound like Mac” Gus snickered.

Daddino’s brow creased, “I have been called worse. Keep your damn gun and badge, Broussard, you might need them to fend off gators and politicians down there in the swamp”, he slid her badge back to her.

Gus palmed it, but didn’t reattach it, “Thanks Loo” she said softly.

“Flack going to be coming in here next?” Daddino asked with a chuckle. Gus remained silent. “Your partner even know about this?” he asked, his eyes growing darker.

“Not yet” Gus replied evenly.

“Take care of yourself, Broussard. Now get out of here before I change my mind”.

---

Gus sped along her course, following a ribbon of interstate through the night. Refusing to stop for anything other than gas, her foot urged the miles to slip by in a blur. After getting stuck in the always present Atlanta traffic, Gus dropped the roof of the car and decided to gray-line it for a while. After sixteen hours of driving, she decided to give in to the rumblings of her stomach and stopped at a Waffle House. Her phone still turned off, she wondered how much of her little stunt Flack had uncovered yet. Looking guilty at the pay phone by the door, Gus decided she needed more coffee first. Bolstered by the greasy joy of scattered and smothered bits of heaven and a few gallons of strong coffee, Gus wandered over to the pay phone. She still couldn’t bring herself to turn on her phone as she slid the change into the slot and dialed a familiar number. Halfway through dialing, Gus lost her nerve and hung up, only to immediately pick back up the receiver and punch in another also familiar number. “Pick up, pick up” she chanted impatiently as the phone rang through. It was either warn him, or chance being greeted by the business end of a shotgun.

Finally a raspy voice answered snapping, “You better be bleeding or on fire to be calling this early”.

“T-B, it’s me, Gus and it is nearly noon!”

“Gus, where the hell are you?”

“Hattiesburg” Gus answered quietly.

“Mississippi? Augusta Broussard, why the hell are you in Mississippi? Are you working a case?”

“Not exactly” Gus took a deep breath, “Actually, I am headed your way and I was wondering if I could crash on your couch?”

“Couch? Baby, we don’t crash on couches in the Brooks household, and you know that. I will have Buela get a guest room ready for you. Are you bringing your fine piece of a detective with you?”

“Er, um, no. We’ll talk about that when I get there” Gus gulped.

T-B didn’t ask any of the millions of questions dancing around in his throbbing head, “Drive safe sugar, and I will see you soon”.

Gus hung up, not feeling any sense of relief and slid back behind the wheel singing along with the radio, “Take me back to New Orleans”…

---

Gus continued her southward trek, something pulling her on despite exhaustion and too much caffeine. The change in the landscape was shocking and alien. Even now after all this time, much of the area around the coast still looked like a wasteland. Gus shook her head and rubbed her eyes, hoping that things would look more normal. They didn’t. Driving west on I-10, she was struck by the vastness of destruction. When she left the area that fateful September, she had been so wrapped up in the destruction close to home, she hadn’t been aware of how many miles had been consumed by the beast. Slowing her speed on the Twin Span’s temporary section, she took a deep breath and tried to center herself. Luckily she hadn’t been trying to prepare herself, because there was no preparing oneself for the fact that time has apparently stood still in New Orleans East. Gus was torn between wanting to stop and gawk and wanting to press on to T-B’s in the “isle of denial”.