A/N: I was listening to one of my favorite albums (Miguel Bosé, 11 Maneras de Ponerse un Sombrero) and it gave me the idea of writing eleven separate one shots, written from Flack's viewpoint. The titles are taken form the album. Let me know what you think of this… experiment.



I seldom see you out of the lab, and I'd hardly pegged you for a hero, so it was a bit of a shock to see you do both on the same day.

You're a survivor. I know you are. Somehow, your past got to me through the grapevine. You're still a geek, but a courageous geek. Not that it changes much, but it does change my perception of who you are and how much to trust you. I don't dislike geeks, and unlike popular belief, I have a great deal of respect for you guys. You know stuff that I've never heard of in my life. What gets me sometimes is the way your knowledge makes me feel, like the biggest bumbling idiot in town. But not you. I don't know if it's my height, my badge or my attitude, but I often have the feeling that you're afraid of me. And you shouldn't.

I know that given the chance, you'd have my back, and in our line of work, that knowledge is priceless. I know, deep down, that if it weren't for you and your dedication to detail and investigation half the times the suspects I collar would walk free. I know that, in the long run, it's actually you and not me who manages to get them behind bars. I do the leg work while you do the brain work, and you'll have to agree that it works better that way, cause I lack the patience to wait for a print to show up in CODIS or for one of those machines to cough up the origin of a substance, and I don't really see you running behind a fugitive, while dodging traffic and bullets.

But you have the courage. In the past, you chose to be a survivor rather than a victim, and that inner strength is what's got you here today, trying to save other victims and helping other survivors get back on their feet. In the present… hell, I was shaking inside my Kevlar vest when I faced those bastards, and I had a rifle in my hands. You had nothing but your wits and your guts, and you're still around to tell the tale, which is a lot more than their other victims can say

And what do you know, you also got the girl! Well, maybe not get, get, but close. It's really only a matter of time, and nowadays you look so giddily sweet skirting around each other... it's enough to induce a diabetic comma in a healthy man. Nah. Don't mind me much. It's just wishful thinking talking. Six months ago, a year ago, I would have said she was too pretty to be a lab rat and too pretty to be interested in you. I would have probably tried to score with her. Maybe Messer too, but that would have been before Montana. Now we both know better; he knows he's gone for good, and I know you deserve the best. Hell, we all do. So go for it, Adam. Pursue Kendall as if you two were meant to be. You probably are.

Just don't wait too long. I know it's a lot like the pot calling the kettle black. You survived two decades of abuse and were always afraid of doing or saying something wrong that would get you back to square one. All it took was some torturing five months ago and you said enough. Good for you. For me it's more than a year and I've still to make up my mind as to where to start. Perhaps you coudl help me out there, some day...

Because the causes were closing down on you, on a daily basis, invisible to your eyes, and chances began twisting around you, powerful and invincible…


"Causas y Azares" by Silvio Rodríguez seemed the right choice for Adam, as he became an unwilling hero simply by being in the wrong place at the right time.