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Complicated

Summary:

Does it have to be this hard? Flack/OC

Chapter 1: Patience

Chapter Text

Chapter One

I'm feeling your frustration
Any minute all the pain will stop.

Just hold me close inside your arms tonight
Don't be too hard on my emotions.

Take That - Patience

"Your doing it again." Grace murmured, stretching out her arms and the muscles along her back as she reached upwards towards the wooden headboard of the queen sized bed.

"I'm thinking." Don said, staring up at the cracks in his ceiling.

His thumbs were tapping out a pattern on the top of his dark head of hair as he lay in the tangle of sheets from their antics, propped upon his pillows.

"Your always end up thinking after we do this." Grace reminded him, drawing back the sheet to reveal her athletic naked body and coming to sit on the opposite side of the bed.

Don cast a glance at her back before pulling his aching muscles into a sitting position. He reached out for her, his fingertips tracing from the line of her delicate shoulders down along the curve of her spine before he traced the small complicated tattoo of a Celtic knot on her lower back.

"That's because we shouldn't be doing it." he muttered as Grace slid the straps of her black bra up along her arms before fastening it.

Grace glanced at him over her shoulder, her chocolate brown hair was cut to her shoulders and was designed to look sexy and messed up. Now it simply looked like that because the two of them had spent their time doing something that was also sexy and very messed up.

Her grey eyes lingered on his nude body. The sheets had pooled at his hips leaving his white, ragged scar naked and on show as he sat there watching her with torrid blue eyes. She knew what he was thinking and of course what he was feeling. Her heart was tearing itself up in her chest at the thought of leaving this bed again but she had to. There wasn't a chance in hell she could get away with staying the night because that would make their relationship into more than it was and she couldn't make that a reality now. She didn't have the emotional stability to give Don what he well and truly deserved.

Both of them knew it, which was why the two of them continued this dance. She turned her head away and groped for her panties. The rustle of sheets alerted her to his movement before she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as his fingers traced the familiar circular burn scar that was already healing upon her right shoulder blade. His mouth descended upon the cigarette burn, his lips caressing it, causing her to shiver at the sensation. His hands were already unclasping her bra for the second time this evening and letting the straps slide down her shoulders as his teeth grazed the hollow of her throat forcing her to whimper in need. She could feel the familiar press of his firm chest against her back as his hands followed the outline of her body, moving from her breasts to the shape of her hips.

"You know I can't resist you when your like this." she murmured as his hands smoothed over her flat stomach and up along the trail of her ribs.

"I know." he breathed into her ear, a notion that he knew would send her heart rate accelerating. "This is how badly I want you to stay tonight."

Grace tipped her head back so it came to rest upon the planes of his chest as his skilled hands roamed all over her body. An illicit moan escaped her mouth as his hands steered lower.

"Don't stop." she pleaded as his lips descended upon her throat.

"I couldn't if I wanted to." he whispered against her skin, his right arm encircling her waist holding her tight against him as she arched into his ministrations.

Even with these tactics Don knew by the time dawn came around Grace would have disappeared from his arms, just like every other night.


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Don was watching her sleep again. It was something he didn't realise he was doing until he became absorbed in the task and even then he couldn't stop himself. He treasured rare and precious moments like this one. There were no complications between them, everything was just simple. He could hold her close without wondering what she was thinking, what she was feeling. It was the moment of calm, he knew before the storm.

When Grace did wake up, the woman was out of his apartment in a shot. Leaving in the dead of night when he had drifted off to sleep was a habit of hers he wanted to break. Yet he couldn't bring himself to put the pressure on her to do so just yet. Everything was still raw and too new for her for him to even begin to contemplate it. He understood she was adjusting, it was hard for her to settle down after what had happened but he couldn't help but want something more long term from her.

His fingers combed through her hair lightly, as he propped his head up with his elbow on the pillow. It was rare to see her look so innocent and at peace. He hadn't known what he was missing until the first night they had fallen into bed together. Before that he had thought he had known her completely. The truth was he never really knew Grace, she was a bundle of complexity that he spent most of his free time trying to unravel as of late.

He found it hard to count the amount of nights he hadn't lost sleep thinking about her over the last few months. In the beginning it had been the constant, nagging worrying and the persistent anger at the knowledge that one day he was going to be getting a phone call to a scene at her apartment. When that time had come he had been sick to his stomach with apprehension when he'd heard the terror quivering in her voice as she spoke to him over the phone line.

Don, I think I've killed him.

Grace had been wrong, she hadn't killed the bastard who was hurting her. Instead she'd managed to fracture his skull hard enough with the glass trophy she had rewarded with for her research into Fingerprint Analysis that he wouldn't be getting back up for a few hours.

Don was used to seeing the tough side of Grace, he had experienced it at crime scenes, in interrogations, on the street when someone had cut her off at an intersection but he had never seen her cry until he walked into that apartment and saw her pointing her gun at the immobile figure on the floor, tears leaking from one black eye and while the other remained untouched.

Until then her ex had been careful not to touch her face, something that had made her abuse even more repugnant to him. It appeared from the state of her apartment that night and the bust lip she was sporting that he had been in an even worse rage than usual and Don Flack hated himself for being the reason why.

Don despised the fact he had to call it in. What he wouldn't have given to put a bullet in the back of the bastard's head and dump his body somewhere but he knew there wasn't a chance in hell that Grace would have been able to live with that. He was also very much aware that Grace wouldn't want anyone to see her in such a vulnerable state but it was his job and Grace understood that because it was part of her job too.

Somewhere in between the time he called it in and the uniforms had arrived she had managed to pull herself together and was reeling off the details in that strange mechanical manner she had when she was building up walls to protect herself.

Don's hand came to rest upon Grace's covered stomach, his thumb smoothing over the creases in the sheets as he lay his head back down, his eyes still open, watching her.

Sometimes he was terrified she would simply disappear from his life. He knew she still hid an escape bag in the bottom of her locker at the Crime Lab, filled with the necessities in case she ever had to run. He hated the fact she still felt the need to do that. He saw it as a sign that she didn't feel safe and he was trying so hard to change that.

Grace sighed in her sleep as if sensing her lovers thoughts. Her face tilted towards him, her right cheek snuggling into the pillow as a stray dark curl fell across her left eye. Her own smaller hand moved, covering Don's larger one lightly, her thumb gently caressing over the joint in his wrist as if in reassurance.

Don closed his eyes, his body brushing against Grace's as she slept. He knew when he opened them again Grace would be long gone.

Chapter 2: New York Winters

Chapter Text

Chapter Two

Made a wrong turn
Once or twice
Dug my way out
Blood and fire
Bad decisions
That's alright
Welcome to my silly life

Pink - Perfect

The locker room was freezing, the chill from the air was putting goosebumps all over Grace's skin as she pulled the jade green sweatshirt down over her body. She had left Flack's in the early hours of this morning while he had been still sleeping. Flack's body had been splayed out on his stomach, his arm resting upon her chest holding her against him. It had taken a few minutes to extract herself from his embrace, there wasn't a chance in hell Flack had wanted to let her go. She'd managed to redress herself in record time because of the cold and had made it into work in time for the early shift she was on.

Three hours of crossing the 'T''s and dotting the 'I''s on her reports had warranted some form of break so she had gone to get coffee only to slip on some ice on the way back from the Starbucks across the street and spill the entire cup upon her white silk blouse. Lucky she always kept a back up outfit in case of dumpster diving mishaps.

Grace was balling up the shirt between her hands when Stella stepped into the locker room, clad in her outdoor attire rubbing her own hands together to keep warm.

"I didn't think New York winters could get much colder." Stella exclaimed as she came to stand next to Grace, twisting the combination lock attached to her own locker.

"Me neither." Grace said as she tossed the coffee stained shirt inside. "Damn ice is lethal though, I've slipped on it twice today already. Fell right on my ass the first time, spilt coffee on my new shirt the second."

"I was going to say I haven't seen the jade shirt in quite a while, it brings out your skin tone." Stella complimented with a smile as she stripped off her gloves, one slipped from her fingers and dropped to the floor.

"Working with you is like having a talking copy of Cosmo magazine." Grace teased as Stella crouched down to retrieve her glove.

Stella's gaze shifted to the green rucksack in the bottom of Grace's locker as her fingers enclosed upon her black glove. There was a moment where the silence waged between them. Grace pursed her lips together tightly as she rubbed the back of her neck. Stella rose to her feet, her eyes still taking in the expression on Grace's features as the other woman exhaled deeply.

"I understand." Stella said sympathetically. "You still need to have an escape route."

"Just in case." Grace told her quietly. "I know it's been three months but I can't forget what it feels like to be trapped in a situation like that, even now."

"There's no shame in that." Stella reminded her, taking Grace's hands and pressing them together between hers as if in prayer.

"I know." Grace uttered as she met Stella's gaze. "I tell myself that every single day."

"Your a strong one Grace, you can't let what he did break you." Stella told her, releasing Grace's hands and unzipping her jacket.

"Never." Grace promised before clearing her throat and casting a small smile at Stella.

"Thanks for getting me out of that situation. I know we've never talked about it but I appreciate what you did, telling Mac." Grace clarified, watching Stella as she hung up her jacket inside her locker. "It was the right thing to do."

Stella closed her locker at the same time as Grace slipped a twenty from her purse and slipped it into the back pocket of her grey pinstriped trousers.

"You weren't listening to me, it was time to bring out the big guns." Stella spoke with honesty as she met Grace's gaze. "I saw how bad it was getting and I knew sooner or later it would be too late."

Grace rubbed up and down her right arm at the phantom bruising that had set off the chain of events that landed her where she was standing right now. She knew Stella had saved her life that day. She hadn't been listening to the other woman when she had begged her to leave Will Hamlin. Seeing her wince that day in the Trace Lab when Danny had clapped her on the back had been the final straw.

Stella had walked into the locker room intentionally while the other woman was getting changed and seen the purple finger marks from when Will had held her down to push the stub of his cigarette into her skin in punishment for being with another man.

Grace had never told Will who she turned to the night she thought he had cracked one of her ribs and she would never tell Flack that the reason her shoulder was peppered with burn scars was because of what had transpired between them.

"I just never said thank you, so here's me actually saying it." Grace told her before shrugging away the awkwardness. "I think I owe you a coffee. Starbucks? My treat."

"Since you offered." Stella said with a grin as Grace took out her black woollen coat and slipped into it before she began to fasten the buttons.

"Watch out for the ice, I like my coffee in it's cup." Stella called after her as Grace reached the locker room door.

Grace let out a laugh before waving a hand at Stella to say goodbye.

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The crime scene was covered in snow, including the area that was meant to be the pavement. Grace found herself letting out a growl of exasperation as she tread as carefully as she could towards the pile of garbage at the bottom of the concrete stairs that led from the office building. She had lived in New York her entire life and she still hated winters. She had lost count of the amount of times she had fallen on her ass or been assaulted with snowballs over the years.

The group of snowboarders were already being interviewed by Flack and another Detective she didn't recognize. Grace shivered, glancing at the metal railings that lined the concrete steps. Why anyone would risk breaking their neck snowboarding down a set of stairs was beyond her.

Her gaze lingered on Flack as he tapped the end of his pen upon his notebook listening to the kid talk. He looked good this morning. He was fresh faced and bright eyed, his expression focused and intent as he scribbled down one or two of the things the kid said. His navy blue overcoat matched the colour of his eyes and the way the white shirt clung to his body underneath just reminded her of another reason she should have stayed the night.

She felt her skin beginning to flush hot at her memories of the night before, the dirty things his husky voice had whispered in her ear, the way he tasted on her tongue as his hands caressed every single contour of her body...

Grace felt a blush creep up her cheeks as her boot hit a patch of ice causing her to wobble for a second before regaining her balance. Clearly that was karma giving her a little clarity.

The camera she used to photograph crime scenes was already in her hands by the time Mac and Flack made their way over towards her. She snapped off a couple of pictures of the garbage bags surrounding the severed human foot before focussing on the dismembered limb itself. The wound track was ragged, whatever had been used to cut into the flesh looked like it had been serrated. She took extra care to get a shot of it before altering her trajectory.

"The flying tomato over there took a dip in the garbage while he was snowboarding and landed right next to the foot." Grace could hear Flack's broad New York recounting the story as the two of them took careful steps along the side walk.

"The rest of the body?" Mac questioned as they came to a halt a few steps behind her.

"Canvassing garbage receptacles in the area, City only picks up trash once a week on account of the budget cuts, place is turning into a Cess pool." Flack complained as Grace photographed a piece of bloody shredded gift wrap before holding it up for both gentlemen to see.

"Look what I found, got dried blood all over it." Grace said, pulling a face as the cute Santa's beaming up at her from the navy blue background.

"Looks like the foot was wrapped in it." Mac remarked as Flack's familiar ringtone chimed through the air, he fumbled with his pockets for a second before answering it.

Mac was already holding open a clear evidence bag for Grace to put the wrapping paper in.

"I wouldn't wanna unwrap that on Christmas Day." she commented, cringing as she used the tips of her gloved fingers to poke the gift wrap until it was fully encased in the plastic.

"Most kids ask Santa for a new bike or a scooter." Mac response, his lips twitching into a tiny smile.

"Danny and Hawkes just found an arm in a trash can a couple blocks away." Flack submitted into the conversation as Mac deposited the evidence bag along side Grace's kit.

"Was it gift wrapped too?" Grace asked, raising her eyebrows in mirth expecting a smile in return.

"Sorry Sullivan, I forgot to ask." Flack dismissed before turning his attention to Mac.

Grace took a deep breath and bit the inside of her cheek in frustration. She was reading too much into his actions, she decided. Flack was a grown man he understood that what the two of them had was just sex, her mind was playing tricks on her because she was overtired.

"You left again this morning." Flack said quietly from his position along side her as he tilted his head to look at the foot in question.

Apparently she wasn't as overtired as she thought.

"Do we have to do this in front of the foot?" Grace responded, gesturing her hand at the offending limb.

"It's not like it's hear gonna anything it shouldn't." he returned pointedly, frowning at her attempt to bring humour to the situation.

"My joke about the gift wrap was funnier." Grace conceded, looking through the lens of her camera before taking a another picture.

"I'm being serious." Flack informed her, the tone of his voice told her he was becoming irate.

The problem was when he was standing this close to her everything went to hell. She could smell the scent of his fresh aftershave and it drove the rest of her body crazy with memories of more intimate moments. Whenever he was in her proximity she felt safe and desired. He made her feel confident and sexy simply with his actions and sexy was not the way she wanted to feel at a crime scene, especially not when there was severed foot less than a meter away from her.

"Your crowding me just a little here." she told him without looking up from the camera.

Flack bit his lower lip in agitation, stifling the retort that was on the tip of his tongue as he took a step back away from Grace, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Grace inhaled the cold winter air deeply, letting it clear her head before she decided to address the situation.

"I've already told you the reason why I don't like staying over." Grace began cautiously.

"Forget it." Flack responded stubbornly. "We shouldn't be talking about this at work."

Grace rose her eyes to the heavens. God knew this was never going to be easy and for some reason today he had made it his mission to test her patience.

"Your the one that brought it up." she reminded him with more bite than she intended.

"Grow up and do your job." Flack snapped, instantly regretting it.

He hated the fact he was acting like this. It infuriated him being caught in this situation and the fact she was passing off their relationship as if it was nothing enraged him. How many times had the two of them leaned on each other during the years? To have it all boiled down to something casual cut him down to the core.

"I deserved that one." she admitted after a moments silence.

Yes you did. He thought.

"Lets just get on with the case." Flack said, his voice distinctly cold as he dismissed her attempt at peace offering.

"Today's going to be a long day." Grace muttered under her breath before clicking the button to take another picture.

Grace didn't realize how true that statement was about to become.

Chapter 3: Got You

Summary:

Grace realises the depth of Flack's feelings.

Chapter Text

Chapter Three: Got You

 

Go ahead and say goodbye

I'll be alright

Go ahead and make me cry

I'll be alright

And when you need a place to run to

For better for worse

I got you

Leona Lewis - I Got You

The dismembered foot, arm and hand they had discovered in various garbage hotspots around the city had all belonged to one man thankfully. A wrestling coach by the name of Vince Nelson. Stella and Grace had gone to his apartment to speak to his widow. So far the only useful information they had gotten was the possibility of two intruders lurking around the skylight on the roof.

Which was why at the current moment Grace was standing on the roof of his apartment building along side Stella, bundled up to the nines. Stella's hands were buried deeply in her pockets while Grace's were gloves as she carried her Crime Scene Kit. The two of them stared along the snowy white surface, Stella depositing yellow cones as Grace took pictures with the camera.

"Of course nobody would think to grit the roof." Grace muttered, placing her feet firmly upon the ground to prevent slipping.

"Twenty nine years in New York, you'd think you'd be used to it." Stella stated, treading carefully as the two of them made their way towards the pointed skylight of the Nelson's apartment building.

"Mrs Nelson said she thought she saw two people up here yesterday afternoon." Stella recounted as the two of them came to a halt in front of the green tinted skylight.

"And here's the blood the neighbour must have been talking about." Grace said, picking the camera up from the thick strap around her neck and raising it to her face to take a picture.

Stella removed a swab from Grace's kit as the other woman crouched down, close to the earth in order to get a better shot of the blood stain.

"Would you like to do the honours?" Stella offered handing the swab over to Grace.

"Seeing as I'm down here." Grace responded with a tiny smile before using the swab to collect some of the icy red residue.

Stella handed her the spray bottle so Grace could use it on the sob, it turned pink indicating the substance.

"As Danny likes to say 'BOOM'." Grace said as she collected more samples and out them into her crime scene kit for safe keeping.


The Latino music was echoing through the walls of the apartment as Flack and Grace stood side by side watching Tanda Love twirl and twist her way through some very professional looking dance steps. Flack hadn't wanted to bring Grace along but since she had been the one to find the fingerprint upon the acupressure magnet and get them this lead he felt obligated.

It surprised him how comfortable he felt in her presence, how easy it was to slip back into their old routines. On the car journey over here, it was as if the two of them were back to normal, as if the events of this morning hadn't happened.

Flack couldn't help but feel a little relieved at that, he wasn't ready for The Talk just yet. He hadn't had time to compose himself, to individualise his wants and his needs. He knew when they did have The Talk he would have to be sure he had the ability to walk away from what the two of them were doing. Otherwise it would all be for nothing.

Flack didn't know if he could change the nature of their relationship. The sex was ridiculously hot and beyond satisfying but with Grace he wanted the emotional gratification he had gotten from the first time they were together. She was one of his closest friends, one of the people who now knew him the best, she was his lover and his confidant. He thought maybe it was about time to make that official. He wanted to hold her hand in public, to see her smile for him, to take her on dates instead of her sneaking out of his apartment in the early hours of the morning.

"This was not what I envisaged we were walking into." Flack remarked, shaking off his thoughts.

His eyebrows furrowed as he studied the movements of the oblivious couple. Tanda was clad in a tiny black mini skirt that flared as she danced and the client was a dark haired older man sporting glasses. Neither had realized yet that the two of them were standing there. Flack crossed his arms over his broad chest as he tilted his head towards Grace listening to her speak.

"Salsa is supposed to be good foreplay." Grace recounted as a smirk curved across her lips. "I've not seen anything like this that wasn't on TV."

"You like dancing?" Flack asked conversationally, striking it off as something else he hadn't known about her.

Grace shrugged.

"I've been to a class once or twice."

"Huh," Was Flack's response.

"Do you like dancing?" she asked him.

"If necessary I can dance." Flack informed her, his blue eyes still fixated on the couple before them.

"Necessary?" Grace questioned. " As in if your life depended on it?"

"Maybe you'll find out one day." Flack said ominously as Tanda Love collided with him.

He reached out his hand to steady her before flashing her his badge.

"Mind if I cut in?" he requested.

Tanda's green eyes went wide with surprise as she stood before the two of them. She placed her hands on her hips before nodding her assent. Within a few moments her client had been sent home and Grace and Flack were standing, rather than sitting on the purple couch. Grace had seen Flack's look of distaste as he glanced down at it. She wasn't sure whether that was due to Tanda's dubious furniture choice or the possibility of fluids from her choice of profession. Either way, these were new trousers and she was no way taking that risk.

"Prostitution?" Tanda repeated as Flack withdrew a folded piece of A4 paper from his suit pocket.

"Come on Ms Love, you have a wrap sheet here." Flack said, tapping the paper before reading out loud. "Arrested four times for solicitation."

"This isn't what you think Detective." Tanda informed Flack, holding up her hands in protest.

Flack's eyebrows furrowed into an expression Grace interoperated as deathly serious as he folded up the wrap sheet and replaced it.

"This isn't what you think either Ms Love, I'm not Vice, I'm Homicide." Flack told her.

"We have your finger print on this acupressure disk." Grace submitted as Tanda diverted her attention back towards her as Grace held out the photograph.

"I bought one to help me quit smoking and I lost it." she told Grace.

"Well we found it." Grace uttered as she held out another photograph. "Near this guy, you know him?"

"Vince Nelson? Why are you looking for him?" Tanda asked, her expression one of severe dismay.

"Because he was killed." Flack stated quietly. "When was the last time you saw him?"

"Last night." she answered "He comes here every Thursday for a lesson."

"And what exactly is it that you teach?" Flack responded, quirking an eyebrow.

"Private salsa lessons." Tanda told them. "Vince wanted to surprise his wife for their fifth wedding anniversary. I had another client straight after Vince who saw him leave."

"I need a name to confirm your story." Flack said taking out his log book and scribbling down some notes.

"Joseph Redgrave." Tanda said before reeling of a phone number.

"Thank you." Flack omitted as Tanda wrapped her arms around herself before showing them to the door.

"By the way you a very good dancer." Grace complimented as they stepped outside of the apartment.

"I could teach the two of you if you like." Tanda suggested, gesturing between the two of them. "NYPD discount."

Grace tilted her face up towards Flack who was already shaking his head at her.

"Thanks but we can't." Grace said forlornly.

"Of course." Tanda said, closing the door to her apartment.

"I wasn't going to say yes you know." Grace told Flack as the two of them descended the stairs.

"You want to go dancing, we do it legit." he said firmly as Grace rolled her eyes behind his back.

"That sounds like an offer Detective Flack." Grace teased as they stepped out onto the street.

Grace grasped his arm suddenly as her heel slid on a patch of ice underneath the surface of the snow by the doorstep. Flack twisted, his free hand lashing out and catching her just under the opposite elbow as her feet slipped from underneath her. Her heart was pounding in her chest as their bodies collided knocking the air out of Grace for a second as Don propped her up.

"Jesus, you need to be more careful." Flack told her, tilting his head to catch a glimpse of Grace's face.

They were looking into each others eyes, and Grace could see everything in those brillant blue eyes, just like always. Don had never been able to shut her out. For the first time in months she actually registered the emotions that he had been trying to hide from her and she hated herself. He was hurting so badly, she could see the strain in his features from keeping it together and she knew that was because of her actions over the past few months.

They were the closest two people could be and she still couldn't make the commitment. Grace knew he could never harm her, Don would never raise a hand to her but she was scared of being involved again. Frightened of losing herself in someone else after what had happened with Will. She had been a ghost for the months before her relationship had ended and for weeks afterwards. She didn't want to feel that way ever again.

"God Don, I'm sorry." she murmured earnestly, her head coming to rest on his chest as her fists grasped his jacket tightly.

She had always found comfort in him, just being in his prescence settled her nerves. The tension in her shoulders relaxed as Don's arm wrapped around her waist. He inhaled the scent of her smoky perfume as he held her close. He longed for moments like this, they were few and far between. Grace had caught him in a moment with his guard down and he knew what she had seen. His anguish at their situation had been tough to hide for this long. He closed his eyes as his lips brushed her hairline.

"It's ok." he whispered, his free hand moving in soothing circles along her back.

Even now he was still her pillar of strength, Grace clutched onto him as if he was her last life line. In a way he was, when she was with him she felt she was living again, like there was reason and purpose to her existance. Yet he was in pain, it cut so bad it was crippling his soul. She wondered how long it had been like this, how she had avoided seeing it.

"I didn't realize..." she began as Don's fingers stroked through her hair.

"I know." he said, sighing against her.

Grace could feel the breath leaving his warm body, his heart was beating underneathe the palm of her hand through his shirt. He was giving up and she got that. This had all become too much for him. Don's throat was starting to ache at the emotion he was trying to hold back.

"I can't..." she told him, shaking her head from side to side. "I'm sorry but I can't."

"Yea Gracie, I know." he murmured against her skin.

Neither of them wanted to let go. It was admitting failure. They had crossed a boundary and it hadn't been enough. She wanted more but taking that step was too frightening. There was an intense need to let herself go, to let go of everything and grow up and settle down with this man, but there was also fear. Fear that she would disappoint Don, that she couldn't be everything he needed. That fear outweighed the cost of her emotions right now.

"I guess this is goodbye." Don said, his voice low and ragged.

Grace could hear in his voice how much this was tearing him apart inside but this was better than how the outcome could have ended and she knew that he was aware of that.

"For now." she told him, sniffing and blinking quickly as the two of them broke apart. "Until I find my feet again."

"I'll still be here." he said as they began the short stroll to the car.

Grace resisted the urge to take his hand as it dangled so precariously close to her fingertips.

"Where else would you go?" she responded, nudging him with her shoulder instead.

"It is a pity for you because I am actually a good dancer." Don informed her, with the beginnings of a smile.

Grace bowed her head, pursing her lips together before remarking.

"That is a pity."

They were standing in front of the car. Flack reached over and grasped the passenger side door handle before holding it open for Grace.

"No hard feelings." he assured her.

Their eyes met as she stood on the opposite side of the thin metal barrier. Her fingers came to rest over his, returning the favour. There were too many things they had shared, too many that they had fought against and triumphed over to give up everything that the two of them had.

"I'm still here too."

 

Chapter 4: Memory Lane

Summary:

Grace and Don remember what led them into this precarious situation.

Chapter Text

Chapter Four

Simona
You're getting older
Your journey's been
Etched on your skin

James Blunt - 1973

It was late when Grace got home. The case they had been working on was far from over but Mac had also pointed out that both her and Stella needed their sleep and their test results could run over night. Despite the fact Grace agreed with Mac she doubted that she would be getting much sleep tonight. Her mind was still churning over the thoughts and facts of everything that had happened today, from the horrendous bloody foot to the disjointed emotional mess that was between her and Don.

Her slim fingers toyed with the silver chain at her throat. The pendant of St Michael, the patron saint of cops came to rest in the space between her breasts underneath her white tank top.

Don had given her his necklace the first night she had stayed with him. She remembered his handsome smile curving across his five o clock shadow as the two of them lay naked entwined in each other and entangled in his sheets. His fingers were deft as Grace kissed his mouth not once, but twice. He unclasped the sturdy silver chain and replaced it around her own neck. She had tried to take it off, to give it back to him because she knew how precious this necklace was in terms of his heritage, of his honour but Don had refused.

It'll give you strength, he promised in his native New Yorker accent as his fingertip traced the line of her collar bone causing her to shudder with need.

That night Will had used his cigarette to drive the burns into her left shoulder when she'd gotten back to the apartment. It was afterwards when he had apologized for his violence and was soothing the wounds with a damp flannel that she had clasped the St Michael pendant and told herself she couldn't take this any more.

She had packed her escape bag that very night, returned to the Crime Lab in time for her shift and stowed it had the bottom. She had been planning to run, where she hadn't decided but before she could formulate a plan, Stella was dragging her up before Mac and demanding she show him what she had been hiding for the past few months.

Grace couldn't stand to look Mac directly in the eye. She rolled up her wrist length sleeves at Stella's gentle urging, showing him the purple and black fingermarks that decorated her forearm.

"Show him the rest." Stella said in a hushed tone, her own arms wrapped around herself as she reviewed Grace with sorrow.

It had been impossible for Stella to detach herself from this. Grace knew she would have felt the same way if the shoe had been on the other foot. Grace turned around, glad that she didn't have to see the expression on Mac's face. She didn't want to see the disgust and surprise on his features when she tugged up the shirt and revealed the worst.

The cigarette burns were bloody and raw, the skin around each one was singed black with vivid redness flaring around the flesh surrounding each burn. There were five in total, each circle was dotted in a random order upon her left shoulder.

"And now the ribs." Stella requested, swallowing hard as she forced herself to watch the grotesque strip show Grace was preforming.

Grace sucked in a breath, the humiliation flushed across her cheeks as she slipped her shirt back over her shoulders. Her fingers were still holding onto the hem, gripping it until it came to her bra line before she turned around to face Mac.

Mac's expression was unreadable, his hand was by his mouth as he reviewed her body. It was a change for her to feel as if she was underneath the microscope, she found she disliked it. The bruising looked worse this morning then it had last night.

"Have you had that looked at?" Mac asked, raising an eyebrow.

Grace tugged her shirt the rest of the way down and folded her arms over her chest before shaking her head.

"Because you didn't want to report it?" Mac asked, raising to his feet and stepping around his desk.

Grace sniffed, keeping her jaw clenched shut at the emotion that was threatening to overwhelm her as she nodded. Mac paused coming to stand in front of her. She could tell he was reviewing the lines of her face, looking and searching for all of her secrets. If she was hiding something he would know and as their eyes met it was clear that he knew that she had just bared all of her secrets except one. One that she very much so needed to keep.

"Get Hawkes and a medikit." Mac requested of Stella who nodded her response before disappearing out of the door.

Grace's mouth was already open, ready to protest. She didn't want anyone else involved. It was bad enough she was in this position in the first place. Mac raised a hand to silence her and to her own surprise and his, she flinched. It was the first time she had let the abuse filter through to her work, and the fact that it had changed the game completely.

"I'm sorry." she responded, taking a step back and raking a hand through her loose dark hair.

Her body was vibrating with stress, she could feel the shock of her response twitching inside of her brain as her hand rubbed across her mouth in agitation.

"You don't have to apologize." Mac said, his tone low and firm as he met her gaze with a fierce one of his own. "But you can't let yourself be a victim any more."

"I don't know how I let this happen." she told him, her voice breaking as she rubbed both hands over her face.

"Where is he now?" Mac asked her, his expression one of ultimate seriousness.

Grace pressed her hands together in front of her mouth as if in prayer.

"At work." she told him, watching as Mac processed the information.

"You can't let him get away with this." Mac told her, his eyes meeting hers intently.

Her fingers wrapped around the tiny St Michael's pendant nestled underneath her shirt as she squeezed it. Even now, being here in this situation it gave her a great sense of security. She exhaled deeply, responding to Mac's statement.

"I didn't intend to."

Two hours later Will was lying in a pool of his own blood on her living room, glass Fingerprint Analysis trophy inches away from his face. As it turned out Will hasn't gone to work that morning, he had discovered her passport missing and some of her clothes removed from the laundry pile and called in sick. She had walked in, thinking she was alone and Will had come at her like a bat out of hell.

Grace's thumb traced along the line of the silver chain around her throat. This necklace had brought her some good luck after all. Will had meant to kill her that day, that much she was sure of. He'd been going for her gun when she'd lashed out with that trophy. A few minutes later and it would have been a completely different crime scene.

Grace stared at the white Nike shoe box sitting on her coffee table. She was still sitting cross legged on the floor in her NYPD sweats and tank top. She kept all of her most treasured belongings in this box, if there was ever a fire this would be the first thing she grabbed.

The lid was already off and the items spread precariously across the surface of her coffee table. She picked up the plastic four leaf clover Adam had pulled from her hair during the St Paddy's day parade three years ago and set it down on top of several photographs, ones from the crime lab nights out that hadn't made it onto the mantle piece. There were ticket stubs to plays she had attended with Stella or Sheldon, hockey and basket ball games with Danny or Don.

There were things she had won out of Christmas Crackers, a compass from her brother because she was always getting lost as a child, a pink stuffed hippo with red lips that Don had won from a trip the two of them had taken to Coney Island a few months ago.

At the bottom of the box she found the thing that she hadn't realized she had been looking for, a keepsake from that same time they had spent at Coney Island.

The tarot card was of The World, it was etched with markings from the old gypsy stalls she had visited at fairgrounds as a teenager. Grace had picked it out of a deck after dragging Don into a purple psychic's booth.

He had laughed at her when she had caught his hand and pulled him along. He said it was ridiculous, the two of them dealt daily in facts, putting their fate in the hands of a psychic was hilarious to him. Or at least it had been until she'd pulled out that card. She wasn't the only one who was haunted by the words the gypsy psychic had spoken.

This man will be in your life forever. The gypsy had told them. He is everything good and strong that you will ever need.

The psychic had given her the card afterwards for luck. It will be a tough road, she murmured inGrace's ear, but the two of you are destined.

Grace had no idea if that was true but it was in moments like this that she chose to believe. She had to believe that there was something better than this darkness she trod through day in and day out, something good had to come out of all the evil they saw.

Grace let out a deep sigh of frustration as she gathered up all of the knick knacks from over the years and placed them back inside the white shoe box as carefully as she could.

The two tickets to the Mayor's charity ball were sticking out from underneath the shoebox from where she had dumped them on the table when she had first gotten in. Stella had handed them to her as she was leaving tonight. Stella couldn't make the ball because she was due to lecture in Michigan that day and her flight was due back as the ball was ending so she had asked Grace to represent the Crime Lab in her place. The date part was optional.

Grace picked up the tickets, rubbing the two of them together between her fingers in thought.

Maybe it was time to start taking chances again.


Home, they say, is where the heart is. Unfortunately for Don he was finding this sentiment to be truer now than it ever had been for him. He was laying in bed, flat on his back at stupid o' clock in the morning staring at the bleak ceiling. He was wide awake, he couldn't tell whether that was from the thoughts that were whipping around his brain like a tornado or the fact Grace's scent was torturing him from her pillow as he lay motionless amongst the sheets they had made love in last night.

Made love.

He hadn't used that phrase before he met Grace.

It was hard to keep reminding himself that that she was safe alone in her apartment these days, that Will Hamlin was still locked up. Him and Danny had helped her move to a new place with no forwarding address and she had changed her phone number. Even if Hamlin did get out the chances of him finding her were slim.

Don turned onto his good side and found himself staring at the empty bedside that she usually occupied. It became her side from the very first night he had taken her to bed. His thoughts flitted back to that evening, it had been when their relationship had shifted from friendship into something deeper.

It was the night everything had come to ahead.

Stella's off the hand comment about what Grace was going home to had started it. It wasn't long after that the pieces had begun clicking into place for him. He thought about the long sleeves she wore throughout the summer, the glimpse he's gotten of the occasional bruise or the pain that she had been in after what she claimed had been a rough tackle. He had believed every single one of her excuses because the nature of their job was rough and tumble.

Grace had left her cellphone upon his desk on the way home by accident when she'd dropped by with a cup of coffee for him. Her hands were full and she had been juggling it, alongside the cellphone and her car keys. By the time he had realized it was there she had had seven missed calls from her boyfriend.

They had met outside her apartment later on that afternoon. He had noticed she was favouring her right side, the palm of her hand was constantly rubbing over her ribs on the left side of her rib cage as she winced.

He couldn't pretend that he wasn't see it. She was crying for help even if she never asked him straight out for it. There was a potent urge to do something. Ignoring this situation went against everything he believed in as a cop and as a man. It wasn't like him to go beating around the bush so he had come straight out with it. He knew that she needed help and he was going to see to it that she got out of this situation whether she wanted him to or not.

Stubborn as she was Grace hadn't turned him down when he had offered to take her to his place to check out her ribs. He knew a thing or two about patching people up, and she refused point blank to go to the hospital as she would have to report the incident.

Don had never seen Grace like this before. She was quiet, abnormally so, if that wasn't a tell tale indicator that something was wrong he didn't know what was. Currently she was sitting before him clad only in a simple black bra and dark blue denim jeans. Don inhaled deeply as he catalogued the detail of each injury that marred her body. Broad hand marks on her forearms, purple bruising down the left side of her ribs was already beginning to show. He had to bit his lip to prevent himself from cursing out loud.

Seeing this made him want to break each and every bone in her boyfriends body for marking her beautiful flesh. Underneath the bruises she was still stunning. Don knew if he was seeing her like this under any different circumstance he wouldn't have been able to resist her charms.

"It hurts to stretch." she told him, tilting her face away so she didn't see his fist clench or his eyes darken.

Don forced himself to take a deep breath to steady his nerves and calm his temper. She was safe right now, she was here and he wouldn't let anything harm her.

"I need you to lie down." he told her, trying to regain his composure.

It sickened him to see her like this. It terrified him to know that this was going on right under his nose and he had never suspected. She nodded her consent before laying flat on his bed. It was the opposite side from which he slept. Grace put her hands up by either side of he head to keep them out of the way of his examination. She was giving him free reign, an omission of surrender so he could do what he wanted with her. Don had been dismissing fantasies like this for years.

He knelt on the floor beside the bed so his face was close to her navel, he breathed into his fingers to warm them up before he began prod her tender flesh.

"How long has this been going on?" he questioned as her grey eyes stared up at the ceiling.

"It started with a some bad investments a few months ago." she answered quietly.

He heard her sharp intake of breath, her body jerking as his fingertips smoothed across the lines of her lower ribs.

"It hurts there?" Don asked, his blue eyes searching her features as his thumb caressing the area softly in a bid to reassure her.

"Yes." she said quietly, her emotions strangely absent.

He recognized that as her way of protecting herself. Grace had shut down completely to deal with the agony she was going through. Don didn't blame her but more than anything he wanted to bring her back. He wanted her to know that human contact didn't have to hurt, that it could be given freely, that the price wasn't pain.

"The good news is nothings broken or cracked. They're just bruised." Don submitted, biting his lower lip as he shook his head at the mass of damage in front of him.

It could have been worse, he had no doubt that the next time it would be. His palm lay flat upon her stomach covering the worst of the bruising as his thumb followed the line of her ribcage up and then back down again. There was intimacy in that gesture, more than he cared to admit.

"You can't stay with him, he's hurting you."

"I know." Grace said, coming back to him.

She was there again beneath his hands. Her soul back in her body and ready to communicate because his presence gave her peace. He made her feel secure, nothing could touch her when she was with him.

"You deserve better than this." he whispered as both of her hands came to settle on his splayed out fingers, holding them in place.

He brushed the stray curl back behind her ear as her grey eyes fastened on his daring him to make the next move. He knew what she needed and he wanted to give it to her. Don wanted to show her what it meant to love someone, to care about them so deeply the idea of losing them drove you crazy. That's how he felt right now, she was slipping from his hands and he wanted to hold on as tightly as he could.

His thumb smoothed over her lips as he bent his forehead down to rest upon hers. Their eyes were wide open, he could see into her soul and he knew that she must be able to see his. Her body relaxed entirely, she sighed as his lips brushed the corner of her mouth before she uttered the words.

"Show me."

Making love to Grace was a different experience from the sex he was used to having. It was slow, tender and passionate. Each one of her moans was like a symphony in his ears, her nails raked across his skin as she responded to every single stroke. He had kissed away the doubts she had about her self worth and taken away her fears at least for one night. If he could have done it for a life time he would have.

Being inside her was incredible, the sense of completion she gave him was like no other. He had never connected with anybody the way he had with her and falling sleep holding her so close had stilled every single worry he had ever had in the world.

Don didn't sleep right when she wasn't beside him and now that it was all over he wasn't sure what he was going to do. Both of them had agreed to walk away and he knew it was in his own best interests to cut and run. Yet to walk away completely was cruel on both their parts.

The two of them had been friends for years, Grace had kicked his ass through psychical therapy after the explosion that had left him broken and scarred. She had sat by his bedside for days on end holding his hand and willing him to open his eyes. She had coached him through the depression that dogged his steps not long after. Don couldn't forget everything she had put into him over the years, not after everything they'd been through.

Don screwed up his eyes and buried his face into her pillow with a antagonized groan. There wasn't a chance in hell he was getting any sleep tonight.

Chapter 5: Chapter Five: Something To Believe In

Summary:

Don's in hot water when a kid dies on his watch.

Chapter Text

The journey to Hillridge High was wrought with the sound of Flack's fingers tapping away a song Jess Angell didn't recognize upon the steering wheel. She's been listening to that sound for the past twenty minutes and it was starting to grate on her nerves.

Ever since the two of them had met up this morning and reviewed case notes he had been distracted. Angell knew he was taking in what she was saying when she spoke but she could tell that something was clearly bothering her partner. As far as she was concerned it was his business, the only reason it was becoming hers was because he was inflicting that damn rapping upon her ears.

"Are you ok? You've been a little distracted all day." Angell said out loud as she cast a glance at Flack sitting in the driver's seat, his fingers still tapping out that soundless tune.

Flack twisted his head towards her as if she had just snapped him out of something deeply important. Where ever he was, was not with her in this car, it was clear that his mind was a million miles away. To be honest that pissed Angell off just a little. Partners told each other things and whatever Flack was with holding she wanted to know. Distractions didn't mix well with guns in the field.

"Distracted? Nah, just trying to figure out this case that's all." he told her before returning his view to stare at the line of traffic straight ahead.

He was lying, Angell knew because his hands were still doing that stupid rhythm again but this time it was faster. He only did that when his mind was working a mile a minute. Whatever it was she was guessing it was personal, she hadn't heard anything on the grapevine about his life outside of work which when she thought about it was odd in itself.

Flack was well known for the girls that he casually dated, it was the talk of the Squad Room most of the time in the past, but lately Angell realized she hadn't heard him or anyone else mention a girl. Which was interesting.

"Ok, you need to stop that right now." Angell cracked, turning to face him in her seat, the seatbelt restricting her movement.

Flack's eyebrows furrowed together in irritation as he turned his attention towards his partner. She noted his hands were gripping the steering wheel rather tightly instead. He was definitely hiding something. A mystery woman maybe? A trauma?

If she was honest Flack hadn't been the same since the the incident with Grace Sullivan a few months ago. The two were close, Flack had supported her through her ex's arraignment. Angell had a lot of respect for Sullivan, for her to stand up and admit she had been a victim of domestic violence had taken a lot of guts, especially in this job.

"Don, I'm your partner. Now give it up before I beat it out of you." Angell threatened, her eyes narrowing as she watched his fingers flex before clasping the steering wheel again.

Flack stared straight ahead, through the wind shield of his car. His eyes were focused on the back of the Toyota idling in front of them.

"Drop it Jess ." Flack warned her, as traffic finally began to shift.

"If you need to talk..." she began, as he shifted the gear stick.

"Your right here." he finished for her, before taking the right turn at the lights and continuing their journey.


The kid was having into a seizure, Flack spotted that the instant he caught sight of the foam leaking from the teenager's parted lips. His entire body was convulsing, writhing and lashing out in the chair, smacking against the metal table. Flack reached out his fingers grasping Todd Fleming's arm as he slid sideways. The boy was too heavy, his skin was slick with sweat causing Flack's fingers to slip from his skin. He heard the thud of metal on flesh as Fleming's head smashed against the table before his entire body bounced upon the floor. His mouth was foaming wore now, a mixture of spittle and vomit as he spasmed and jolted from his position on the floor. Flack was already throwing open the door so violently it crashed against the wall, his voice was growing hoarse as the grim sinking feeling claimed him. He had already lost this kid.

"Somebody get an ambulance."

Don had done everything by the book just like always. He had no idea why Fleming had gone into cardiac arrest but he knew it was nothing that he had had a hand in. Still that didn't make him feel any better about it. That kid was someone's child and he had tried his damnest to save him. He'd given the kid CPR in attempt to jump start his heart again but by that time Todd Fleming had been too far gone. Even with CPR the chance of survival was twelve percent. Don didn't see how he could have done anything any different.

Yet IAB apparently did. They had accusing him of attacking the kid. From their view point Don could see how it looked with the evidence starting to stack up against him. He had given his life to this department and it was like a punch in the gut that they weren't giving him the benefit of doubt.

His personnel file was spotless, Don thought that had to count for something but here he was on modified assignment sitting at his desk with nothing better to do than watch other people work and do the crossword puzzle in the New York Ledger. His gun and badge had been taken from him and placed in the Lieutenant's top drawer until further notice. Being trapped here, chained to his desk was driving him stir crazy.

It was her sweet smoky perfume he smelled first, he took a deep breath drawing it in like drug as she lingered just behind him. Her small hand came to rest upon his broad shoulder, her thumb caressed the knot of his neck though his grey suit jacket. Don closed his eyes briefly at her touch, for a second it was all he needed. There was solid affirmation that there was one person who believed him. Maybe even the most important one.

"Hey." Grace whispered in his ear, spending a tiny thrill up along Don's spine.

He remembered the things she whispered to him in the dead of night and all the pleasure that came with them. Don tilted his head to catch a glimpse of her sympathetic face as she set the steaming hot cup of Starbucks coffee on his desk along with a white Starbucks paper bag.

"How you holding up?" she asked him, leaning on his desk.

Grace's hair was swept back away from her face in a sleek professional style that allowed him the ability to read her expression more clearly. She was wearing that maroon coloured blouse he liked on her, the one that hugged her curves in all the right places. He could see his St Michael's pendant glittering underneath the folds of her shirt. She had promised him that night that she would never take it off and so far she had stayed true to her word.

Don ducked his head, avoiding her eyes as his pen traced the crossword clue that was thwarting him. He didn't want her to see how he was feeling right now underneath all of his bravo. Afraid for his career, angry because it seemed the department were selling him up the bank.

"Fantastic." he without enthusiasm before reading the clue out loud. "What's a five letter word for a cooking utensil?"

Grace rubbed her hand across her pale cheek, her lips poutting as she furrowed her brow as if deep in thought.

"A whisk?" she questioned.

Don reviewed he letters he already had in the squares to see if they matched up.

"That would be it." he said, slightly impressed.

He was still avoiding her gaze, Grace could tell from the unnecessary amount of time he took studying the crossword puzzle. It wasn't in her power to fix this, although she wished it was. Instead she would work with the tools she had at her disposal. She would do anything to make him feel better.

"We're all rooting for you." she told him. "I think you should know that."

Don's shoulders sagged as the words penetrated her ears. His startling blue eyes finally met her own as his mouth twisted into a grim smile. One that didn't belong on his handsome face.

"Thank you." he said sincerely. "I appreciate that."

He held her gaze for a moment too long before looking away again and Grace couldn't stop herself from sighing out loud at what she saw there. He was in a world of trouble. This wasn't something that was going to go away. If the department left him rotting at a desk for too long he would walk. He couldn't work for a place that didn't trust him and it was a slap in the face since he had laid down his life time and time again for this job. The scar that rippled across his chest and abdominal region was testament enough to that.

"Shouldn't I be the one grabbing you coffee with all this free time I have on my hands?" he asked her, gesturing at the coffee cup she had brought him.

"I was going this way anyway." she told him before handing him the Starbucks bag.

Flack looked at her quizzically before taking it from her hands and opening it with keen interest.

"I thought you needed a little cheering up." she shrugged as he took out the large slab of chocolate chip brownie.

The smile on his face was worth ruining another shirt for.

"Yea well, I appreciate this too." he said placing the brownie back in the bag.

Grace opened her mouth to say something more before stopping herself, pursing her lips together. He knew what she wanted to ask and he was glad that she had stopped herself in time, because the truth was he wasn't sure he had an answer for her. Adding to the fact he really didn't need Squad room gossip contributing to the mixture, there was already enough of that about him and Angell.

"I gotta..." she said jerking her thumb towards the interrogation rooms.

"Interview Johnny Holt, I know." Don finished for her, shooing her away with his hand.

"I'll catch up with you later." she told him with a finger wave as she strode away.

Don's eyes slid down back to the crossword as he clicked his pen.

"Whisk." he said out loud, writing the word in. "I knew that."


There was something going on, Angell was sure of it. It had taken a few minutes of discreet observation but she was positive that there was something between Flack and Sullivan. She'd seen the way their relationship had grown over the past few months. Flack had been propping Sullivan up through some tough times, it was clear that they cared for each other but she never thought that it had gone any further. It wasn't until today when Angell was observing their mannerisms that she realized that the way they responded to each other had changed.

The way Sullivan had touched Flack was intimate, more that she had ever seen between the two. She had no idea when it had started or how long it had been going on because the two of them were smart. They had somehow kept it quiet.

It wasn't until Angell had caught a glimpse at the silver necklace that Sullivan was wearing that she realized how deep this went. She'd seen that St Michael's pendant on Flack's neck a thousand times over the years they had worked together and now it was on Sullivan's.

From everything Angell knew about Flack what was going on here was anything but casual. The necklace, the fact there had been no other girls over the past few months, the spring in his step. It all made sense.

Angell broke into a wide smile as her eyes came to rest on Flack, he was leaning back in his chair, looking a lot more relaxed as took a sip from his coffee cup.

It was about time someone around here got a happy ending.

Chapter 6: Chapter Six: Hello, Goodbye

Summary:

Grace's shower turns out to be broken...

Chapter Text

The bar was quiet tonight. Danny thought that had something to do with the fact it was a Tuesday and all the real sports bars were full of people celebrating the Rangers game. He was standing across the pool table, watching as Flack took a swig from his bottle of Bud before concentrating on the pool table. Mac had stayed for a few drinks before shooting off again. Danny had stayed to celebrate the return of his buddy's gun and shield.

It had come at a price though. He had seen Flack's growing frustration as the investigation into Todd Fleming's death had dragged, he had been there himself once upon a time. Danny knew what it felt to have the whole department turn against you so fast it left your head still spinning. He thought that was why Flack was so subdued at the moment. He had come so close to losing not only his livelihood but his heritage as well.

Flack was second generation, all he was ever destined to be was a cop. Danny knew a thing or two about the toll that took upon a man. He came from a family of cops, when his own badge had been the line the pressure he had been under nearly broke him. Flack had come through for him then and Danny thought it was his turn to return the favour.

"We never doubted you, not for a second ya know?" Danny said, as Flack leaned on his pool cue, waiting for Danny to line up his shot.

"There was a moment there, when I thought the whole department was against me." Flack admitted, shaking his head in disgust.

"Nah, we had your back." Danny reported as he jerked the cue, cursing out loud as the ball missed the hole he had been aiming at. "I know what it's like being under scrutiny, makes you wonder why you do things."

"Makes you wonder why you do the job when you have to take crap from the people your trying to protect." Flack agreed as he bent his lithe body over the pool table and stared down the length of the cue.

"It's worth it though." Danny pointed out, "Look at all the good we've done."

"Putting away murderers and scum bags, only to have more turn up on the streets. It ever ends Danno." Flack reminded him, taking the shot and cracking the formation of the group of balls that had been left in the centre of the table.

"You giving up on me Flack?" Danny responded, half full pint glass in his hand as he spoke.

"Never say die right?" Flack said instead as his eyes met Danny's across the table.

The two of them shared a smirk at the sound of those words on his tongue.

"Never." Danny agreed.

They both had the experience of those words, the strength they harboured day in and day out. They had been uttered at some of the toughest times the two men had been through and they still lived through them like a mantra. No matter what had happened those words could always pick you up when you were down on the ground.

"She should be here you know." Danny said, casting a glance at the top end of the pool table.

"Yea, I never asked her." Flack told Danny. "Figured she'd want some space."

"The two of you are good for one another. Don't see why you don't just let it happen." Danny said, draining the rest of his pint glass.

Flack shrugged, lining up his next shot and leaving the silence hanging between them. He had no response to that one. They had let it happen and it had all fallen apart again in his hands.

Danny had been saying the same thing since Grace and him had met on the Moran case. She was a rookie CSI, five foot five, dragging a large silver crime scene kit along with her and he had been recently promoted. He'd heard things before hand from other cops about the new CSI on Mac Taylor's payroll. It wasn't until they met that he understood that they meant when they called her doll.

CSI Grace Sullivan looked as pale and as delicate as porcelain. Her dark chocolate hair was pulled back into a messy bun, allowing a few stray strands to fall across her face as she stood before him, hands on her hips as she reviewed the crime scene. Her wide grey eyes were the first thing he noticed, his breath caught in his chest when their gazes locked. He could feel his heart palpitating in his chest as he reviewed her athletic frame clad in blue CSI overalls.

"Detective Flack." she greeted him with an outstretched hand, which he took in shock.

He wasn't sure how she knew his name but he liked the way it rolled off her tongue. She crouched down a little way into the scene so her back was to him, her thumbs flicking open the clasps.

"Six hundred bucks on the Squad Room pool says she doesn't last the week." Moran informed Flack, nudging him with his elbow. "Poor kid doesn't know what she's got herself into. Fresh out of college and thrown in the deep end. We need criminalists with some experience not someone who looks like they should be babysitting my kids."

"I hear you Officer Moran." Grace said, her back still to the two of them. "I walked my beat back before I transferred over to CSI, I have three years under my belt working for the Geek Squad in Brooklyn as I heard you affectionately term it before."

Moran's eyes widened as she turned to face him with a bright smile. Flack bit back the urge to snigger as his mentor sheepishly adjusted his cap. He was starting to like this newbie.

"I know you didn't mean anything by it." she said with a shrug, before turning her attention back to the work at hand.

Two days later Flack had been standing outside the fire exit where the smokers usually hung out. He had his own cigarette in his hand as he took a drag. It had been long case, and he'd had to make a tough decision. The first, he was sure of many hard ones to come in his career as a Detective. He had done the right thing, he knew that but he had but it still stabbed him like a knife every time he thought of Moran's face when he'd requested the log book. He knew what a desperate man looked like and his mentor's eyes had been burning with it when he slapped the little black book into his hand.

"You did the right thing you know." he heard a voice from beside him chime as he dropped his cigarette butt on the ground and crushed it between the sole of his shoe.

Flack rubbed his hands together to generate some heat as he raised his head to look at Grace Sullivan as she stood before him. She was wearing a brown corduroy jacket over an aquamarine vest top and jeans. She looked good outside of work.

"I know." he responded harsher than he intended.

She took a step forward into his personal space, Flack didn't step back. He was intrigued by this woman, she was new and different from the type of people he usually worked with. He studied her face searching for a motive and reading none.

"You just gotta make it right inside here." she said poking him in the chest, just above the place where his heart beat against his ribs.

"You don't know anything about me." he told her, catching her hand before she could pull it away completely.

She gaze dropped to the way his fingers curled around her wrist. She looked amused rather than affronted. He wasn't hurting her, he simply didn't like being poked in the chest.

"But I'm getting to." she pointed out, as he let go of her wrist."I know a good man when I see one."

"Earth to Flack, where'd you go there buddy?" Danny asked, frowning in concern.

Flack let out a groan, realizing that Danny had all but one ball left one the table.

"Seriously Messer, you just potted seven balls. I'm a little awed at the fact you managed to hit one." Flack responded, shaking off the fleeting memories and focusing on the game ahead.

"Says the guy that's losing." Danny snorted, before checking his watch. "This is gonna have to be the last one. I'm in early tomorrow."

Flack glanced at his own watch before nodding his agreement. Maybe tonight he would actually be able to get some sleep.


The light was on in his apartment when Don opened the door, he found that perplexing since he made sure to turn everything off before he left for work each day. Don's fingers curled around the grip of his Glock, his thumb flicked the button, that secured it into the leather holster, off. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him quietly as not to startle his would be burglar. His ears strained as he listened out for a second. His shower was running.

His eyes strayed to the black leather tote bag that was residing upon his kitchen table. It was unzipped, he glanced inside it to see a change of clothes and some feminine moisturising cream. Next to it were a set of keys with a Cubs key chain he recognized very well.

Grace.

She'd used the spare key he'd given her in case of emergencies to get in.

Don let out an exhale of relief. The last thing he needed right now was to end up back at the station house filling out a statement and trying to replace his stuff. His eyes strayed to apartment door again before he caught sight of her black ankle boots sitting beside the doorway neatly. He should have checked there first. He re holstered his weapon before taking it off of his belt completely and setting it upon the side table by the couch, badge along side it.

He hadn't expected her to come over since the exchange the two of them had had a few days ago after leaving Tanda Love's apartment. Yet he was glad that she was here right now, whatever her excuse. He had heard many from her lips over the months before he'd told her that she didn't need a reason to stop by.

Don respected the way she had acted today, she could have been cruel and left him to stew in the bullpen alone but instead she'd come by with kind words and a cup of coffee. He appreciated that more than he could say.

Don wasn't strong enough to resist the temptation that was presenting itself. He knew he should hold back, be the bigger person and let her leave intact but he had almost lost his livelihood today. He needed the reassurance that was more to his life than the job right now.

He stripped off his suit jacket letting it fall to the floor as he approached the bathroom door. It was cathartic in a way, stripping off the layers of the day. His tie and shirt followed suit as he reached for the door handle.

Last chance, his mind echoed.

Don ignored the voice telling him he shouldn't be entertaining the idea of this again and stepped inside. The bathroom was full of steam, he had forgotten how hot she took her showers, how she enjoyed the steady pulse of roaring hot water upon her shoulders. He closed the bathroom door before unzipping his trousers and stepping out of both them and his underwear.

He could see her familiar shape on the opposite side of the patterned glass from the walk in shower. She was singing to herself, it was a song he didn't recognize but thought he may come to enjoy neither-less. He pulled back the door to the walk in shower and squeezed through the gap he had created in order not to let the hot air leak out.

Grace turned around at the sound of the door shutting behind her. She caught sight of the arousal on his features as he stepped into the water stream. The two of them were standing barely inches apart, their naked bodies brushing with the slightest of touches. Both were waiting for the other to make the first move. The game was changing yet again as they stood here. It had always been a game between them and now it was becoming something serious.

"I thought we were done with this." she said quietly as his eyes bored into hers.

"Your in my shower." he reminded her.

"My showers broken." She explained before motioning towards the door. "I can leave."

Don shook his head, his large hands cupping her face with the tenderest of care. He wanted her to see that he was telling the truth when he laid his cards out before her.

"I want you to stop leaving."

Grace said nothing as Don's mouth lingered so tentatively close to hers. Her eyes were on his lips as he spoke. She could feel each individual breath he took as his words hung in the air between them. She didn't know what to say, she couldn't find the words he needed to hear. There was only this anticipation stirring up between them. He was so perilously close. His fingertips were gliding down her arms, she shivered underneath his touch as he set all her nerves alight.

"I want you." she whispered. "I want you so badly."

They both understood the meaning behind her words, the implications of the expedition they were about to embark on.

His firm hands came to rest on her hips pulling her gently against his muscular frame. His erection was trapped between their slick bodies as Grace laced her fingers behind his neck. Her lips sought out his, claiming his mouth with a furious desire that ached and burned within her.

Don's strong arm encircled her waist, hiking her hips further up his body until his erection was rubbing against her moist core causing them both to groan into that kiss. His free hand came to rest on the wall behind her for leverage. His other hand slid down to her thigh, guiding it to his hip and holding it place to grant him easy access.

Grace's teeth grazed his lower lip as his cock traced over her bundle of nerves, to her most intimate place. Don moved his hips back and forth teasing her into a frenzy as Grace clung to him in desperation. Her breathing was ragged with anticipation, her beautiful body arching and writhing as he held her at his mercy. She was unable to take what she wanted from him, instead she was waiting for him to give her what she needed.

"Don." she whimpered against his lips. "I need you inside me right now."

Don watched her face change as he penetrated her inch by inch. His body melted into hers with ease as he listened to the sound of her breathing hitch. She was so tight and wet he was finding it hard to control himself as he withdrew and repeated the motion. Her whole body was quivering against his as he moved inside her with agonisingly slow strokes. Her breathes were coming in tiny pants, her fingers digging into his shoulders as they moved to the same rhythm.

God, he had never had this feeling before. Every time they did this he felt like the whole world ceased to exist. Grace completed him, it was that simple. His hands mingled in her short dark hair as he began to thrust into her faster, his mouth smothered hers, drowning out her cries.

She was close. Jesus, he was barely hanging on as it was, having this incredible woman wrapped around him. His lower back was tingling, he could feel himself wavering on the cusp of orgasm as he pleasured her.

Grace was tensing around him, her entire body stiffened in his arms as the erotic sensations pulsated throughout her body. She was coming undone in his hands, her orgasm tearing through her as he watched her face. It was the expression of her pure ecstasy that tipped him completely over the edge. He held on tightly as he came, gasping against her skin as he gripped her close.

Don has no idea how long the two of them stayed like that. He could feel the raise and fall of her chest against his, their hearts beating in unison as Grace's head came to rest in the crook of his neck.

"Jesus Don, the earth moves every time with you." she breathed into his collarbone.

Don withdrew from her body as gently as he could before reaching and turning off the dial that operated the water system. The shower stopped as Don reached for the white plush towel that Grace had slung over the top of the walk in shower. He draping it around her shoulders, his firm hands rubbing up and down her arms as she held it in place. His smile was infectious, she loved his boyish grin, it lit up her world every single day.

"Your gonna catch your death." she told him, gesturing to his lack of towel.

Don pulled open the door to the walk in shower before stepping out and grasping the first towel to hand before pulling it around his waist and turning to look at her again. She had wrapped the towel around her body shielding it from his view. Her long toned legs were on display, Grace ran her hands through her wet hair drawing it away from her face. Don could feel himself stirring underneath the towel for the second time that evening. His need for her was insatiable, he had never wanted someone to badly before.

Grace rose an eyebrow as her gaze lowered to the growing area underneath his white garment.

"Towels? Really?" she exclaimed.

His brilliant blue eyes darkened as his fingers already began to undo the knot that was keeping her towel in place as he spoke.

"It's the fact I know you naked underneath." he told her as the towel came loose.

Grace caught it before it slipped past her breasts, ensuring that it still covered the front of her body. As much of a welcome distraction as this was, there was something important she needed to do. She had decided to take the next step in their relationship.

"Don, there's something I need to ask you..."

The familiar chime of her cellphone cut through the air, interrupting the moment. Grace let out a sigh of frustration as she stepped around him and snatched it up.

"Sullivan." she barked into receiver

She watched in the mirror of the medicine cabinet as Don stepped out of the bathroom, clutching his towel to his waist. She caught sight of the wounded expression that crossed his features and felt the intense urge to snap her cell phone in half as dispatched talked into her ear. He was regretting what they had just done, she could see it in the set of his jaw as he clenched it. It was in his eyes from the moment the logical side of him had taken a step back and realized the situation.

It took her all of two minutes to pull her clothes back on from before the shower. The atmosphere in the apartment was strained and awkward with words that were left unspoken.

Don was no where to be seen, but her travel bag was zipped up, her shoes resting in front of it along with her keys. His bed room door was shut. She wasn't sure what she should do, there wasn't time to explain that she had wanted to stay over tonight or to ask him about the ball in a few days time.

Instead she rapped her knuckles upon the door.

"Don I gotta go."

There was no answer from the other side of the door. Grace's forehead came to rest upon the smooth surface as she tried to think of the right words to say, instead coming up with nothing.

"Bye." she murmured before picking up her belongings and shutting his apartment door gently behind her.

Chapter 7: Stalemate

Summary:

Enough is enough for Don.

Chapter Text

The bullpen was quiet for the first time in what seemed like an age. Flack hated it when it was like this, the silence let him too much time to think about the things. He couldn't stand the idea of doing that right now but it was happening and he was powerless to stop it. He shouldn't have got involved with Grace again. After a few drinks it had seemed like a good idea, coming home and finding her in his apartment and then in his shower naked it had been too good to be true.

It was only afterwards when his sensible side managed to kick in that he realized he was making a terrible mistake. Sex wasn't the way to go to get what he wanted, despite the fact it was mind blowing. If he was honest he wasn't sure that was accessible to him. Grace showed no signs of buckling. She cared about him, but it wasn't enough not any more.

The truth was he was in love with Grace, he had been from the moment he'd stolen that kiss from her that night in the bar. Too many drinks whilst playing pool after the Truby case when the bar was heaving. Somewhere in the midst when she'd been caught between the pool table and his body, he'd laid one on her. She hadn't resisted, in fact her hands had grasped his shirt and yanked him even closer.

The kiss had been sweet and sensual, their lips fit together as if the two of them were made for each other. Despite the fact it had only lasted seconds Don had placed it as his most memorable.

When the two of them broken apart the moment was over and they'd gone back to playing. Neither of them had mentioned it since. Don hadn't realized that was it then, he was hooked. Instead he had filled the missing piece of his heart with meaningless flings and one night affairs. It had taken a long time to realize that what he needed was right in front of his eyes.

He remembered that old saying, if you loved someone you set them free and that was what he was trying to do here. Don Flack always did the right thing, it was ingrained in his nature. Yet he was sick of being the brave one, it was exhausting giving so much of yourself away to the job, to other people. He needed more than that. He had wanted something for himself, someone to call his own but again it was eluding him.

He couldn't do this any more. He couldn't have what he wanted dangled so closely to his face only to have it snatched away at the last minute, he was done with that.

Don had been avoiding Grace's calls over the past few days, only returned a text if it was work related. The two of them were on separate cases at the moment so avoiding her wasn't too hard.

As soon as Don had the thought he knew that he had jinxed himself. The main door to the precinct opened as someone entered. He could tell the sound of her footsteps anywhere, and always with those battered ankle boots she adored so much.

Go away, he prayed without looking up from the report he was writing. Go away, go away.

She was wearing a different perfume today he noticed, something that was vaguely floral and reminded him of Spring. Her shadow fell across his desk, darkening the A4 papers he was reading as the footsteps came to a halt on the opposite side.

Don had learned many years ago that sometimes the best defence was to have a good offence and he was surprised to find himself shifting into that mindset almost automatically. He was already putting down his pen and rising to the challenge before she had a chance to attack. He kept his expression blank as he swivelled his head up to meet her piercing gaze, opening his hands in a mock gesture of welcome as he spoke.

"And what can I do for you on this fine day?"

"We need to talk." Grace told him, placing both hands on his desk to brace herself.

She was furious, he saw the look in her eyes as she bore down on him. Something had changed and she didn't know what and Grace didn't work well when she didn't have something tangible to hold on to. As far as he was concerned it was time for her to learn that Don Flack's patience had finally run out.

"The time for talking is over." he told her, his elbows digging into his arm rests, rotating the chair from side to side.

"Really?" Grace exclaimed.

Her eyes were narrowing with agitation as she tried to read him. She placed her hands on her hips as if reviewing a petulant child causing Flack's temper to flare as he stared back defiantly.

"What can I say?" Flack said, his voice in a matter of fact tone as he shrugged his shoulders. "You had your chance you blew it."

"Your serious?" she asked him, her eyebrows curving into a frown as she came to realize this wasn't some stupid little spat between the two of them.

"Like a heart attack, doll." he told her, shuffling the manilla folders into some form of order before raising to is feet. "Now if you excuse me I have work to do."

Doll, it had been what the other police officers had nicknamed her back when Moran had still been around, on account of her porcelain features and long dark lashes. The nickname had stuck for years until the Wilder case and that had shown everyone just how fragile Grace Sullivan really was. The beating she'd taken during the time she was held hostage at the crime scene in Brooklyn with Danny and Adam had proved her tougher than anyone had thought.

When the members of the Clan had attacked Grace, Adam and two of the patrol cops that were backing them up, she had fought so hard even Grace herself had been surprised they hadn't put a bullet in her. Instead between them they had fractured her arm attempting to restrain her before jabbing her in the head with the butt of an AK and she'd spent the next few hours unconscious while the two men tortured Adam into revealing the lab's security codes. Her damaged arm had made her practically useless when it came to their escape plan, Don knew she had harboured a lot of guilt over that for the longest time before she had learned to let it go.

Her right palm slapped against metal wall of the truck bed, bracing the entire weight of her body as Grace clasped her left arm close to her chest. Her wrist was twisted so the fingers of her fist faced upwards. He knew from the angle it was tilted at that it was either a spiral fracture or a break.

Her face was ghostly, the blood was berry red and vivid running down her cheek from a wide open gash that sliced across her hairline. There was another dried smear of red underneath her nose. There was a blush of purple already staining the line of her jaw from the punch that a perp had landed somewhere along the way.

Her breathing was laboured, he could hear the harsh ragged pants emitting from her lungs as she stood there for a second trying to regain some form of composure. She was trying to hold herself up but Don could tell from the way her body was trembling that it was becoming more than a struggle to prop herself up.

"Gracie." he said her name compulsively, stepping forward as she slid onto a sitting position on the edge of the truck bed.

His firm hands came to rest lightly on her waist, lifting her down from the truck bed as gently as he could until her feet touched the floor. Her knees buckled just a little as her feet connected. Don's muscular arm wrapped around her waist, supporting her weight as he guided her good arm around his neck.

"Adam..." she wheezed through her teeth as Don walked her step by step towards the waiting EMS team. "Jesus Danny..."

"We've got Adam and Danny, don't worry their safe." he reassured her as they came to the back of the ambulance.

He could feel her body relaxing at that knowledge. They were safe and so was she. Her head leaned in close to his. He could feel how exhausted she was, being strong in a situation like this was draining once the adrenalin had left.

Her cheek brushed against the darkened stubble of his own as they shared a moment of mutual relief . Grace exhaled, tipping her head back to rest on his shoulder for a second before he handed her over to EMS.

One of his men was calling, gesturing for him to look in the back of the car that belonged to the perps. He cast a glance at Grace as the paramedic sat her down on the edge of the ambulance.

"Go." she mouthed using her good hand to make a weak shooing gesture.

His mouth set in a grim line as he forced himself to divert his attention back to where his focus ought to be.

The case.

He shook off the memories, it was moments like that made him weak and pathetic and he refused to be like that anymore. He faced down murderers and scumbags on a day to day basis. Facing Grace like this should have been a cinch.

"Don." it was the sound of her voice breaking just a little that made him hesitate.

Jesus, he couldn't stand hearing her voice like that and knowing that he was the source of it. He took a deep breath to steel himself against it. He straightened his shoulders before blocking out all of the emotions that were churning around in his stomach before pushing on. Not once did he allow himself to look back.


The gym was busy much to Grace's disgust. Both members of the NYPD and FDNY exercised here regually. She was in the mood for a quiet work out, something to ease out the aggression that she was harbouring right now. She hadn't felt this angry in a long time, at least not directed at Flack. Working off a sweat after a tough case was the way she blew off steam and right now she had a lot of pent off rage to burn off.

The tape that was wrapped around her hands protected her skin as she threw a punch at the red bag that was hanging from the ceiling. She'd been going at this solidly for thirty minutes now and her anger still hadn't dispersed, instead she was sweaty and pissed off.

"Wow, what did the punching bag ever done to you?" she heard a familiar voice remark as she jabbed her elbow straight into the core of the bag.

Grace used the back of her hand wipe away the sweat beading on her forehead.

"Can I help you Denvers?" she asked, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face.

Brandon Denvers grinned as stood beside her, using a green towel to wipe off the back of his neck. He was a fire fighter from the fire house near the Crime Lab, the two of them had bumped into each other at a number of arson scenes over the years. It wasn't until she joined the gym two years ago that any sort of friendship had blossomed.

Brandon was built like a linebacker, tall and wide with a muscular structure most men would envy. Brandon had had a shot at playing pro football before he's blew his knee out in his college years. His eyes were a charming shade of ebony, his hair sandy blond and cut short drawing more attention to his attractive features.

"What are you doing tonight?" he countered as she began to strip the tape off of her hands.

"I'm representing the Crime Lab at the Mayor's Charity Ball tonight." she told him, putting her foot on the bench in order to tie the loose shoe lace on her sneaker.

"You got a date?" he asked her.

Grace twisted her head towards him, her lips parted in surprised as she looked at him. Brandon chuckled at the expression on her face as she stared at him wide eyed.

"Come on Grace, your a good looking girl. You must get asked out all the time." Brandon said, giving her a smouldering look as a blush crept along her cheeks.

"Just not in the gym." she told him, trying to shrug it off as she picked up her water bottle.

"So do you have a date?" he persisted, crossing his arms over his chest as searched her face for an answer.

"Its going to be boring, all political types." she warned him.

"You'll be there." he pointed out as they began to walk slowly towards the locker room.

"It's black tie." she informed him.

"I look good in a tux." he said with an easy going smile as he gestured to his body.

"I bet you do." Grace said with a wide smile as she took in his large, muscular frame.

Why the hell not? She thought.

Flack had made it clear he didn't want anything to do with her back at the station house, that anger was still burning deep inside her. She was impulsive by nature. She had gone there to lay her cards out just the way he had done the night before and instead he'd practically slapped her around the face. The man was stubborn, she didn't know if this was something that the two of them could work out. She was far from perfect, she knew that, she'd just wished he'd given her a chance to explain.

Brandon was still waiting for an answer. Maybe something with no strings was what she needed right now to take her mind of the situation with Don. In a few days time he would have settled down and two of them would be back to meeting at crime scenes just like the old days.

Grace balled up the tape from her hands between her fingers in thought.

"Pick me up at eight?"

Chapter 8: The Party's Over

Summary:

Angell and Flack discuss Grace...

Chapter Text

The diner was too quiet for Flack's liking, apparently it was the effect of the Blue Flu epidemic that was sweeping it's way though the NYPD. He didn't blame the other cops for taking the time off in response to the pay cuts they knew that were looming. Yet cops like him and Angell were old school even if they were part of the new generation. They had taken an oath to protect the city and that's what the two of them were going to keep doing, pay cut or no pay cut.

The two of them were sitting in a companionable silence across from each other in a booth. Flack was chewing on a turkey club sandwich and washing it down with what felt like a litre of coffee and Angell was pouring a boatload of sugary syrup onto a steaming plate of waffles. They were coming off the back end of twelve hour shift and in an hours time were due to start yet another. Blue flu required all available hands on deck.

"I saw what happened with you and Grace this morning, everything ok there?" Angell asked, glancing up from the newspaper she was reading.

Flack expression remaining impassive as he took another bite of his sandwich.

"You know you should eat something more substantial than that sugary crap there if we're gonna be on shift for the next twelve hours. Your gonna need something with carbs." Flack instructed, trying to change the subject.

Angell scowled at his words as Flack reached over and slid the sports section out of her newspaper and began to read it.

"I like the two of you together. You and Grace make a good couple." Angell submitted trying to draw his attention back to the subject as she sliced her waffles.

"There is no me and Grace." Flack stated, staring at the page in front of him instead of reading.

"Oh, yea there is." Angell countered, before popping part of the waffle into her mouth.

"Jess seriously..." he snapped, jerking his head up to meet her curious eyes with his hostile gaze. "There is no me and Grace."

Silence fell between them as Flack's focus returned the newspaper. Angell watched him intently before deciding to give it another shot.

"But there was." she started again.

Flack clenched his jaw, his eyes raising skywards at his partner's insistent nature. It was what made her such an excellent detective.

"I'm not letting up until you tell me what's going on." she informed him, taking a sip of her milky white coffee.

"Fine." Flack muttered, crossing his arms over his chest as his back came to rest against the back panel of the booth.

"Fine?" Angell echoed, putting her cup back down upon the table and fixating in her partner with interest.

"There was a me and Grace and now there isn't." he said, shrugging his shoulders abruptly.

Flack looked away, the muscle in his cheek twitching as he thought over everything that had occurred over the past three months.

"Grace can't commit." he submitted. "So we ended it."

"You ended it." Angell corrected, her mind playing over the events of this morning.

"I laid my cards out on the table." Flack recounted, biting his lower lip in frustration. "And her phone rings and she's gone again. I know it's hard for her to trust people, I do, but this is me we're talking about here. I am a good guy and she knows that."

"In her heart she knows that but in her mind..." Angell explained before breaking off. "She cares about you Flack, but what happened to her is scary. Nobody thinks it can happen to them especially a cop. The bastard stripped all of her power away and it's hard to build it all back up again once it's gone."

"I love her Jess." Flack confessed out loud for the first time. "I would move heaven and earth if it would wipe that fear out of her head but she's not letting me take that step. All the time it's like I'm on the outside scratching at the surface."

"She's terrified of losing herself again Don, you saw what she was like while he was abusing her. She wasn't the same Grace Sullivan after that, she didn't smile, she certainly didn't laugh the way she does now." Angell said, pushing her empty plate away. "She loves you Don, you just don't see that because your getting hung up on all the details."

"It's the details that are important to me Jess." Flack informed her, raking his hands through his short dark hair. " I wanna hold her and know she'll be there when I open my eyes, I wanna be able to tell her how I feel without worrying she's gonna bolt out the door."

Angell pursed her lips together sympathetically. Her partner had it bad for Grace Sullivan and she could see the demons that he was constantly fighting with were beginning to win. She groped for something to say, some jewel of wisdom that she had kept locked a way for a time like this but there was nothing because he was right. Don Flack deserved everything that he had just said and more.

The ringing of heir cellphones provided a welcome distraction as they both reached for the department issue phones and answered the call.


The ball was, as Grace had originally suspected, one huge ego trip for Deputy Mayor Kaplin. It consisted mainly of New York's most important people from within all of the different sectors of the city confined in one room.

The ballroom itself was stunning. There was a circular bar in the centre, where bartenders were clad in expensive black suits serving people a concoction of drinks. The lighting was low and intimate as was the music that cascaded through the discreet speakers. A banner advertising The Museum Restoration Project was hung up across a small stage along with pictures of Kaplins face beaming at the crowd to remind them why they were here. All these rich and powerful people residing in this one room...

Grace already knew that Don would have hated it.

Her hands smoothed down her dress as she surveyed the room. The silk, Calvin Klein, one shouldered dress felt luxurious on her skin as she stepped through the room gingerly on black, peep toe, spike heels. The sea blue material clung to her body empathising her curvaceous frame. Coupled with the heels, it's floor length trim gave her a lot more height. The single thick strap covering her shoulder, hid the worst of her scars from the view of her peers. If she was here with Don she wouldn't have cared about showing them off but with Brendan...

Frankly, she didn't want the questions.

Her dark hair was loose and wavy, falling just to the line of her shoulders. With Stella on her way back from Michigan, Grace herself didn't have the skill to do anything more complicated with it.

Brandon was by her side, his large muscular frame clad in a black tux that defined every inch of his masculinity. He handed her a flute of champagne he had secured from one of the many waist coated waiters touring the room.

"This is some party." he remarked before taking a sip from his glass and observing the room.

Grace set her own glass of champagne down upon a table the two of them drifted past. She'd hated the taste of champagne ever since her graduation from the academy.

"I hate doing these things." she confessed. "Stella is a lot more diplomatic than I am."

Brandon shrugged his broad shoulders, clearly enjoying the change of scenery.

"If all goes well, maybe the two of us could skip out a little early." he suggested, his breath tickled her ear as he lowered his tone. "I'm sure that dress would look wonderful on my floor."

Grace put a hand on his chest, feeling a little uncomfortable with his proximity. She knew what he had in mind and she knew there were hundreds of women that would love to take him up on that offer. Unfortunately every time Brandon touched her, it felt hideously wrong. Every little intimate thing he did sent her senses screaming one question.

What the hell are you doing?

"Your very direct." she said frankly.

"I know what I want." he stated boldly, his eyes drinking in her attire. "And I am very good at what I do."

Grace inhaled deeply, trying to ground herself as his fingertips trailed up the length of her arm. She made eye contact with him as she caught her fingers before they reached her naked shoulder blade.

" I'm not that type of girl." she responded as the lights went down in the main ballroom drawing their attention to the small stage in front of them.

Robert Dunbrook was talking about the super-sized cheque he had written for the museum but Grace wasn't listening. Her thoughts were elsewhere, she had made a terrible mistake coming here with Brandon.

She should have made Don listen to her this morning in the precinct. She should have left her overnight bag, or explained in the shower. She should have done something, anything.

Instead she had walked away just like she was always doing these days when things got tough. She wondered what Don was doing right now, if he was thinking about her the way she was thinking about him.

Above the audience the balloon net was released. Purple, white and clear balloons tumbled to the ground mixed with a dark shape that was hurtling downwards before it hit to the floor.

It took Grace a second to realize what she was actually looking at as the screaming started.

A body, and not just anyone's body.

Deputy Mayor Kaplin's.


She was stunningly beautiful, he couldn't help but stare as Grace stood in the midst of the Crime Scene, a reel of yellow crime scene tape in one hand and her black beaded purse in the other. The colour of the dress highlighted her ivory skin, giving it a radiant glow as spoke with Hawkes, who was unloading the camera, they used to photograph crime scenes from it's bag.

The way that material cloaked her body left nothing to his imagination. He wanted to know what it felt like pressed against his skin as his fingers trailed down her spine, unzipping it slowly.

"Your staring." Angell commented, jabbing him in the ribs with her elbow.

Flack yelped, his hand rubbing over the sore spot as he spoke.

"Nah, I just can't believe someone killed the deputy Mayor."

"The way the city is going downhill at the moment that's probably a good thing." Angell retorted striding into the fray leaving Flack to address the crime scene in front of him.

Flack cleared his throat before taking the dreaded step forward. Hawkes gave him a brief nod as the other man stalked past him and approached the dead body,. Flack could feel his chest constrict just a little as Grace awaited him, the look on her face one of apprehension. He could be professional about this.

"Nice dress." he greeted, nodding at her attire. "Bet it was a great party before Kaplin dropped in."

Grace gave him a smile that didn't quite meet her eyes. She was weary and cautious from their previous disagreement and very thankful that Brandon had left not long ago on a call out of his own.

"You look tired." she said sympathetically.

"Blue flu." he stated with a sigh. "It's been a long day so far and it has the makings of a long night."

"Hence why I am still here in this dress, trying to tape off the crime scene. " Grace scowled, heels clicking as she moved lightly from foot to foot.

It was a notion that Flack recognized well from their years together.

"Hand it over." Flack said, holding out his hand for the tape.

"I wasn't trying to..." she broke off as he took the tape from her hand before lowering his gaze to the bottom of her dress.

"I know, but your shoes are killing you so take them off while I cordon off the scene. We don't need you breaking your ankle while we're in the midst of an epidemic." he said, raising his eyebrows as she lifted up the bottom of the dress.

Flack's mouth hung open for a second as he caught sight of the dainty, sexy heels she was clad in.

"I can think of one place I would rather be with you and those shoes right now." he found the words slipping off his tongue without a second thought.

"Stick around for a while Detective and you might just get your wish." Grace responded with a wink as she toed her shoes off.

"I'll hold you to it Sullivan." Flack warned her, peeling off the beginning of the crime scene tape with his thumb.

"Is that a promise?" Grace inquired pouting. "And do I get to use the handcuffs?"

"Your a bad girl Grace." Flack said rolling his eyes and tossing the tape to her. "For that your taping off your own damn crime scene."

Chapter 9: Tease

Summary:

Grace finally stays over.

Chapter Text

Don had no idea what time it was, but from the fact his apartment was still in pitch black darkness he assumed it was some obscene time in the morning. He wasn't sure what had woken him, but he could still sense the disturbance lingering in the recesses of his mind. Don lay immobile in the stillness of his bedroom listening to the sounds of the night. There wasn't a single one he didn't recognize...

A creak on the landing outside his bedroom door, made his heart thud faster in his chest followed closely by the sound of the softest footfall. Maybe it was the ten years of NYPD instincts kicking into play or the fact he'd been up for over twenty four hours straight making him abundantly paranoid. Either way he snatched up the service pistol he had placed on the night stand as he bolted upright in bed, both hands were wrapped around the grip as his thumb slipped the safety off.

He watched as the doorknob began twist slowly. He raised his gun up higher, ready and waiting for the kill shot if he had to take it. The door jarred open just a crack. The silhouette of a hand slipped through followed by a rustle as the perp's clothing brushed the door frame before they clicked it shut.

"NYPD Freeze!" Flack screamed into the darkness.

The shadow froze immediately, Don kept his eyes on the perp, his gun trained on their outline as his left hand groped for the bedside lamp.

"You picked the wrong night to screw with me..." he snarled, flicking it on and bathing the room in a dim light.

Grace stood before him, her hands were up by her shoulders showing that she was weapon-less. She stared back at him, grey eyes wide in shock as her breathing came in rapid, quick gasps. Her dark hair was loose and wavy, falling just to her shoulders. She was wearing a white vest with nothing underneath and cute black boy boxers that hugged her ass just right.

"Grace?" he questioned, unable to believe his eyes as a mixture of fear and anger pulsated through him. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Grace screwed up her eyes tightly before forcing herself to exhale deeply. He watched as her diaphragm rose and fell as she absorbed the breath.

"I could have shot you." he snarled, clicking the safety back on. His heart hammering in his chest as he glared at her.

"I am very thankful you didn't." Grace said as she lowered her hands down by her sides.

Don slid his service pistol back onto the night stand before turning his attention on her completely. Don raised his knees so his elbows came to rest on them. The white sheets covered his legs and pooled around his hips as his eyes fastened on her.

"If you've come here for a booty call then you can march your ass straight back out, there isn't a chance in hell I have energy to be your fuck buddy tonight."

"That's not what I came here for." Grace said in a low tone, taking slow steps towards the bed.

"I find that hard to believe." Flack retorted, watching as she drew back the sheets on her side of the bed and slipped underneath.

"Are you trying to make me change my mind?" she snarked back, rolling onto her side so her back was to him.

"Change your mind about what?" he exclaimed indignant. "Every time you end up in my bed your like some college kid who can't keep it in her pants."

"Will you just shut up and hold me already?" Grace demanded, grabbing his hand and pulling it around her waist, he shifted compliantly so that his body was spooned around hers. "Jesus if I knew you were going to be this difficult I would have come in the morning, when you were less cranky."

"Grace?" he said quietly, his head propped up on the pillow with his elbow as she snuggled closer. She pressed his palm flat against her chest so he could feel her heart beating beneath the tips of his fingers. "Why are you here?"

"I'm sleeping over." she informed him, closing her eyes as her body began to unwind from the tensions of the day.

"Good." Don said, reaching over and turning off the lamp.

His lip kissed the blade of her shoulder, his mouth enclosing over one of the scars tenderly as she giggled.

"What?" he murmured into her ear..

"I can't believe you sleep naked."


It was morning, and Don had spent the past thirty minutes watching the woman sleeping beside him in awe. He had fully expected upon waking up, to find her side of the bed cold and empty, instead he had found her warm firm body pressed along the length of his. Her cheek was resting upon his shoulder, he kissed the top of her head through her mused up hair. His fingers were entwined in hers as they lay there together in the blissful quiet.

It was Sunday. The day of rest. Don's favourite day of the week.

Grace sighed out loud as his other hand slid down her back, rubbing circles across her skin through the material of her vest. She was still out for the count. He knew she'd been exhausted when she'd climbed into bed beside him last night but he hadn't anticipated the depth of her sleep.

Blue flu had tired them both out, he thought, his fingers combing almost absent-mindly though her hair.

Just the fact he was able to do that send a thrill through him. Finally they were taking another step forward and it was about damn time. He wondered what would come after this and dismissed the idea from his mind. He was happy right now with what he had and he was determined for it to stay that way.

Grace's fingers slipped down from underneath his own, walking down the dark hair on his chest and doodling the pattern around the scar before breaching the sheets and delving lower. Don gasped as her fingers enclosed around his smooth erection, caressing it lightly with the palm of her hand.

"Looks like I'm not the only one awake this morning." she whispered against his jaw, her sensual lips fastening on that spot that drove him utterly crazy.

Don tilted his head back into the pillow with a gluttonous groan as Grace's hand began to move up and down his shaft in long, slow strokes. Her tongue traced the outline of his neck as she straddled his hips with her knees, her playful hands were smoothing over the defined muscles in his chest as Grace ground herself against his glistening member.

The small slip of material that were her panties was the only thing standing between the two of them. Her mouth was driving him wild as she licked, sucked and teased his throat as her lower body generated even more friction between them.

His hands were on her vest, slipping it upwards over her breasts, Grace took the intuitive and pulled the material off of her body leaving the rest of her gloriously naked for Don to see. The way his smouldering blue eyes looked at her made her feel sexy and dynamic. There hadn't been a man before him who could ignite such feelings of raw sexuality within her.

His hands caught her wrists before he turned the tables, leaving Grace gasping in arousal at his show of dominance. His hands pressed hers to the mattress, pinning her there as he dipped his head to her breasts.

His tongue was molten hot as it grazed over her erect nipple causing Grace's entire body to tighten in pleasure as Don sucked it gently into his mouth. Her hips arched against his, she could feel his throbbing cock rubbing through the dampness of her panties as she struggled to maintain the contact between them.

Don watched the expression on Grace's features as his mouth moved onto her other breast repeating the same action. One hand was cupping her wrists now whilst the other was tracing patterns along the shape of her ribs and abdomen before he came to the line of her panties. His clever fingers hooked them before he used one hand to draw them down her thighs. She breathed his name as she felt the tip of him glide across her slick, wet folds.

"Don..." she begged, his teeth grazing her delicate skin as he placed the head of himself just outside her intimate opening.

He looked directly into her stunning eyes, drinking in the arousal he saw there as the intense desire to claim her as his own rushed through him. He arched his hips slightly so the tip of him was inside her before withdrawing again causing Grace to whimper in protest.

"Tease." she accused as he bent in low to kiss her.

"That's because you want it so much." he murmured against her lips.

"Can I touch you now?" she requested , her breathing low and ragged as she wriggled her fingers under the grasp of his large hand.

"Say please." he told her, they're lips barely touching.

He asserted just the tiniest bit of pressure sending Grace's entire body writhing beneath him in want.

"Please." she whispered into his mouth.

Don tilted his hips against hers, filling her inch by inch until he was buried deep inside her to the hilt. They melded together in unison, their mouths crashing together, their tongues mingling as he entered her slowly. Her hands caressed down his powerful shoulders and along the firm muscular structure of his back as Grace wrapped her legs even tighter around Don's waist allowing him deeper access.

The sensation of Don being inside her was amazing. The press of her body against his taunt muscular frame as they moved together created a bond that could not be broken. It heightened every single emotion she had ever possessed for him. She knew this man and when the two of them were consummating the most basic of acts she could admit finally to herself how deeply in love with Don Flack she really was.

They began to move faster, Grace's hands were roaming all over Don's naked body as he made her moan and tighten with his every movement. She was so ridiculously close, her nerves blazing with the pleasure he gave her. Her entire body began to tense as his thrusts as became harder, pushing her right to the very edge.

His name was on her lips as she started to climax, she tipped her head back exposing her throat as she cried it out in ecstasy. His mouth descended on the curve of her throat, biting down as his own orgasm claimed him. Grace gasped as the pain intermingled with the pleasure throwing her completely over the edge. Don's heart was beating against her chest, Grace closed her eyes absorbing all the tenderness Don had put into their love making. She was content as she lay underneath him in the aftermath.

Don withdrew from her body gently before rolling onto his back, breathing heavily. Grace shifted onto her side as Don's arm gathered her body closer against his own.

"I think I need to stay over more often." Grace murmured, propping her chin up on Don's chest so she could look into his startling blue eyes.

"Just let me know next time you decide to use the spare key so I don't end up trying to shoot you again." Don muttered, closing his eyes exhausted from their antics.

"I promise I'll call or text next time." Grace said, pressing her cheek flat upon his chest so she could hear his heart beating.

Her eyes began to flickered closed as Don's fingers combed through her short silky hair. The gesture was relaxing. She wondered how she hadn't done this before, why she'd been so terrified. There was such contentment in her bones right now, there was a sense of peace that she had never been privy to.

Only Don had the power to take her feel this way. She hoped it stayed this way between them forever because in her mind right now he was hers, and she was his.

Chapter 10: One Survivor To Another

Summary:

Adam recounts a conversation between him and Grace...

Chapter Text

The Crime Lab seemed a much brighter place than usual. The winter sun was shining outside through the glistening glass flooding the entire crime lab with natural light. It was a beautiful cold day and Grace didn't even mind the fact she could see her breath in the locker room when she hung up her fleece lined jacket.

"I don't understand how your smiling." Adam remarked from the opposite side of the locker room as Grace took a glance in her compact before running her fingers through her hair to give it more volume. "It's still below freezing outside."

"I've got a good feeling about today." Grace said, running a Chapstick over her dry lips.

"A good feeling?" Adam questioned. "Like its gonna get a few degrees warmer over the next couple of hours?"

Grace chuckled at his words as she unwound her scarf from her throat and hung it up along side her coat. Adam gave her a sidelong glance noting the white Victorian style shirt she was wearing today. His eyes came to linger at the dark mark on her neck, peeking out from just under the collar.

"What is that?" Adam asked, using his fingertip to draw down the top of collar so he could get a full view of the mark. "Is that a Hickey?"

Grace clapped a hand to her neck in surprise as she jerked away, scowling at Adam as an amused smile crossed his rugged features.

"Ah, now I know what that smile is about." he smirked, tilting his head as Grace's cheeks began to flush red.

"Is it that obvious?" Grace asked, snapping open her compact again to review the damage.

The Hickey had apparently gotten worse since their actions this morning, Grace cursed Don and herself before closing the tiny mirror and setting it back onto the shelf where she kept her emergency make up supplies.

"No..." Adam stuttered as she cast him a look of disbelief. "Well yea, but no, its good the fact that your dating again."

"I am gonna kill him." Grace muttered as she searched through her locker before coming upon her concealer stick.

"Was it the fireman? I bet it was the fireman wasn't it?" Adam exclaimed, shaking his head and laughing as he posed like a body builder. "Because that guy was buff..."

"It's not the fireman." Grace mumbled, tilting her head up to dab the concealer over the shape of the Hickey.

"You want me to run a background check for you," Adam offered rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "I mean if Flack finds out he's just gonna do it anyway, at least this way..."

"It's Flack." Grace submitted, replacing the concealer back in the top of her locker before closing it.

"Flack?" Adam repeated his mouth hanging open in surprise. "Don Flack? As in our Detective Don Flack?"

"Yea." Grace said with a bright smile as she twisted her head to face Adam. "It started a couple of months ago and now this is me, telling you."

"Does the boss know? Does anybody know? Because Gracie I am not good at keeping secrets, especially not from Mac, not when he does that dead stare, silent thing...I just go to pieces." Adam said quickly, gesturing wildly with his hands.

Grace placed both hands on Adam's shoulders as she looked deeply into his azure eyes to focus his attention.

"Adam calm down, it's not going to be much of a surprise to people that the two of us are seeing each other. Danny's been telling me to get my shit together for years." Adam nodded his agreement at that notion. "Besides aren't you and Agent Beth supposed to be a secret?"

Adam held up his finger to silence Grace.

"How did you even know about that?" he hissed.

"Your not as discreet as you think." Grace said with a shrug. "I saw the two of you in Central Park a few weeks ago holding hands while I was running."

Adam crossed his arms over his chest, his eyebrows furrowing together as he absorbed that information before he spoke.

"You are good at this secret thing." Adam said wagging his finger at Grace.

"I have had practice." she said self consciously.

Adam pursed his lips together in acknowledgement at her statement. Adam, himself had been good at hiding the remnants of his father's abuse. He hadn't been working that closely with Grace at the time of her ex's abuse. She had been running herself into the ground working as many cases as God sent so she didn't have to go home each night and Adam and Beth had just been starting to get a little more serious.

The two of them had been like ships passing in the night. He had no doubt if the two of them had been working closer during those turbulent months that he would have seen it and in the weeks that followed he wondered if her absence from his work and social life had been because somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that. Victims always recognized other victims.

When Mac had asked for his help on the case he hadn't hesitated, going to the scene that night to collect control samples had been like stepping into a nightmare. Broken glass from a vase of white roses embedded into the carpet, kitchen table overturned, the darkening blood pool seeping into the rug. Seeing the extent of the damage was mind numbing, it was all he could do to keep the images at bay as he processed the scene.

Nobody doubted that Grace was going to press charges, with people like Mac Taylor and the rest of the department backing her what reason would she have not to. Adam watched her as she sat in her office, hand on the departmental phone, utterly alone. He could see the cogs turning in her brain, the regret that pained her features. He knew a thing or two about that and about the decision she was struggling to make. He also knew that if Grace did drop the charges against Will Hamlin that soon enough they'd be investigating her own Homicide.

Adam had bought Grace a small tub of aloe vera on the way into work that afternoon. He had used it on his own open burn wounds after they had been held hostage by the Wilder Gang. He never knew what to say in these situations but he thought if she knew that there was someone was there, someone that understood what she was going through that he may be able to save her from herself.

"Grace..." he said rubbing the back of his head in agitation before he made the decision to speak. "I know what your thinking about doing and trust me it would be a really bad idea."

"I don't know what your talking about." she said stiffly, her hand still clasping the phone ready to make her call.

Adam grabbed Danny's wheelie chair from the opposite desk and moved it so that he was sitting in front of Grace, on her side of the desk.

"Look, just hear me out for a second." Adam began holding a hand up to silence her protest. "I know what it's like to have to go through this, to have to do this to someone you love and it's the hardest part of what your going through."

"You don't understand. He loves me" Grace said quietly, rubbing her hands over her face in exhaustion.

It was clear to Adam she hadn't slept in days. He knew she was staying with Stella at the moment and that the other woman was trying to take care of her friend the best she could.

Adam reached out and took her small hand lightly in his, his free hand pushed up the black lace sleeve of her shirt to reveal the green and yellow bruising on her wrist.

"Did he tell you that?" Adam asked as his gentle fingers rubbed along the length of her bruising. "Did he tell you were the only person who could understand why he did this?"

Grace swallowed hard as she turned her head away but not before Adam caught a glimpse of the tears that were glistening in her grey eyes. These days were always the hardest, the indecision, the regret, the worry. Adam didn't envy Grace for a single second. Letting go of someone you loved was hard in the best of circumstances, locking them up for what they were doing to you was one of the worst decisions anyone had to make.

"People who love you don't hurt you Grace." Adam murmured. "No matter how bad things get."

"He won't survive in prison. He doesn't have any money for bail." she pleaded, willing Adam to see her side of the situation and he did.

She had let this man into her life, she had loved him and trusted him and he had twisted that into something malicious. She couldn't step away without leaving a piece of herself behind and he was watching her fight that. She couldn't move on and be completely intact, it didn't work that way, not for anyone. This would mark her future for the rest of her life.

Adam had lost count of the times he had dismissed his own happiness in his fixation with the past, seeing those scars from his father's belt in the mirror every morning made his childhood impossible to forget. It had taken him a long time to come to terms with those marks even though they had healed. It had taken even longer for him to let another person anywhere near the real Adam Ross and even with Beth's gentle patience he was still battling those demons.

"You'll be amazed what people can survive." Adam said, unbuttoning the cuff link of his own blue plaid shirt before rolling up the sleeve to his elbow.

Grace had seen the tattoo of the large Celtic cross drawn into Adam's skin before, like her at least one of his parents was of Irish decent. Both of them had grandparents that had come over from across the ocean to start a new life in the Americas.

Adam took her fingers in his and ran them softly down the line of his forearm, the skin felt different here, thinner and stretched. It was a scar, she realized, a long one that transcended both flesh and muscle, from wrist to elbow.

"You feel that?" he asked her.

Grace bowed her head slightly in answer to his question as her finger traced the secret he hid in the depths of his artwork. She knew what he was showing her, this is what she could become if she let Will get the better of her, this is what she would do to herself to escape when it all became too much.

"It's a scar." he told her removing her hand from his arm before rolling his sleeve down again. "It's what happens when people can't get out of the situation there trapped in. You have a way of leaving right now, a support network to catch you. Your not on your own any more."

Grace clasped Adam's hands between hers, holding the two of them together. She could feel the unity stretch between them, one victim to another. Adam had been everything she was now, he was everything now that she wished to be. She couldn't imagine what she would feel like in weeks, or even days ahead of this moment but when she looked at Adam she saw hope for the future because of the way he had conquered his past.

"Tell me." she requested. "I want to hear your story."

"My' dad was a bully." Adam said, staring down at their interlaced hands It was easier when he didn't have to look her in the face, Grace didn't need to see the humiliation that still dogged at him nor the shame he carried. "Killing myself was the only way I thought I could escape. My dad found me before I could finish the job. It was too late, I had already cut too deep. He couldn't stop the bleeding so he was forced to take me to the emergency room. The nurse there she took one look at me and she knew..."

Adam looked up, his eyes stinging with tears. He smiled at her, past the lump in his throat as he kept Grace's gaze. It was important for her to hear this, to know what had led him to the place in which he was standing today.

"She was the first person to show me any real kindness, I believed her when she dusted me off and said that it was gonna be ok, that I was going to be safe. Social services took me later that night. I was freaking out, I was fifteen and terrorized out of my mind about what my dad would do when he got me back but he never did get me back." Adam told her, his fingers squeezing hers.

"I had to give a statement against my own father Grace because the evidence of what he did to me is a patchwork of memories he carved into my body. I'm telling you I don't regret it for a single second because everyday it was getting worse. I would have ended up dead by his hand or my own. People like my father and your boyfriend don't just stop, they need someone to stand up and do the right thing and that's us." Adam said, removing his hands from hers and using the back of his sleeve to dry the damp patches underneath his azure eyes. "We're the good guys, we need to be strong for the people who don't have the strength to speak for themselves just yet."

"It just hurts so bad." she confessed for the first time out loud. "That he could do this to me."

There were tears running freely down her cheeks, Grace rubbed a hand across her eyes trying to hide them. Adam leaned forward on his chair, his hands enclosing on her shoulders as he guided her towards the shelter of his comforting form. Her forehead came to rest on his collar bone her hands clutching bundles of his shirt as she began to fall apart for the very first time.

"It's ok." Adam murmured, his cheek coming to rest on her forehead as he rocked her body lightly. "Everything's gonna be ok."

"Does Beth know?" Grace asked quietly, breaking through the memory as the two of them stood parallel in the locker room.

Adam bowed his head, fiddling with the rings on his fingers.

"She's seen the scars on my back." he admitted. "I'm just glad my dad's dead so she can't kill him all over again."

"A woman after my own heart then." Grace said, her hand rubbing up and down his arm in assurance.

"You have no idea how amazing she is, when she laughs it's like everything right in the world even if it's only for a few minutes." Adam told Grace as the two of them left the locker room and proceeded towards their work stations.

"You need to hold onto that Adam, people like Beth are rare." Grace said honestly. "I'm happy for you, I haven't seen you smile like this for a long time."

"Grace." Adam said, drawing to a halt as they reached the AV Lab. "I'm happy for you and Flack, it's been a long time coming."

There was sincerity in Adam's voice and she appreciated that. It meant a lot that he thought so highly as of her decision. One survivor to another.

"Yea." Grace responded thinking back over everything the two of them had survived over the past five years. "Yea it has."

Chapter 11

Summary:

Grace explains to Don why she hates Valentine's Day.

Chapter Text

The ice rink at the Rockefeller Centre was strangely quiet for the evening time. Grace thought that it was due to the fact the temperature had dropped yet again. The snow had come down at some point late last night so fresh heaps of it outlined the outside of the rink. Above them the trees were decorated with silver fairy lights illuminating the rink in such a way that it appeared romantic. Grace had never thought of the ice rink as romantic, at least not until now.

Don was sitting along side her on the bench, hunched over as he retied the laces on his skates. He was clad in navy blue denim jeans that hugged the contours of his lower body. Underneath his dark brown leather jacket he wore a black long sleeved T-shirt that showed off his muscle definition.

Today was their evening off, their case had caught an early break when Adam had gotten a confession from the Deputy Mayor's son Jake Kaplin. She'd seen the emotional toll it had taken on her friend during the interrogation, what had happened with Jake had cut too close to home. It had taken Adam years to lean how to cope with his OCD. Grace had offered to take him for a drink after work but Adam had declined, he was going home to be with Beth tonight.

"So how long exactly has it been since you last skated?" Don asked Grace, a boyish smile spreading across his handsome features.

"It's been a while." Grace admitted as Don adjusted Grace's lavender scarf. "But it's kind of like riding a bike right?"

Don ran his tongue over his lower lip as he sniggered at the uncertain expression upon Grace's features. He rose to his feet before taking her small hands in his.

"Come on." Don said, pulling Grace to her feet.

"You won't let me fall right?" Grace questioned as he led her to the edge of the ice.

Dimples appeared on Don's face as he took a step backwards onto the ice. He was a natural, she had known the first time that she'd seen him play Hockey that he belonged on the ice.

"Have I ever?" he asked her, drawing her onto the ice with a gentle tug."You've never ice skated before have you?"

"Not since I was twelve." she muttered as Don pulled her along slowly.

"Just move your feet a little more." he advised, picking up the pace. "Your getting the hang of it now."

Grace looked down as her blades moved across the ice. Don was beaming at her as he released her hands and skated just out of reach. Grace shot him a worried glance as she concentrated on the movements of her feet.

"I can't believe you've never been here before, I used to come here all the time as a kid with my old man." Don said, skating beside her.

Grace cast a coy smile in Don's direction as he took her hand, their fingers entwining into something more intimate as they skated together.

"You know me, I prefer being on the baseball diamond as opposed to playing in snow forts."

"Is that where you met Brendan?" Don returned, his voice nonchalant.

Don tilted his head towards her with a knowing look as Grace let out a deep sigh.

"People talk Gracie." Don reminded her.

"I was going to ask you to the ball but we had that fight and he asked me out." Grace explained squeezed his hand lightly. "I was just so mad at you because I was finally trying to take a step and you were shutting me out. I wanted to stay over that night but I got the call out and you were so upset I couldn't explain."

"I'm telling you doll, you need to make your 'reaching out' a lot more clearer. I thought you were doing one of your 'drop ins' again." Don told her as he pulled her to a stop on the ice.

Grace wobbled for a second as Don's hands settled on her waist holding her in place. She felt so good under his hands, even now he was still struggling to grasp that this was real. She was here and she was his.

"I like it when you call me that." her voice was low, her head tilted up towards him as her lips twitched with the beginnings of a smile.

Dons used his fingertips to brush a lock of dark hair away from her flawless skin. His warm hand cupped her face, his thumb smoothing over the soft apple of her cheek as he leaned in close.

"I'll have to call you it more often then,doll" he murmured, kissing the corner of her mouth. "Valentine's Day is in a few weeks."

"I know..." Grace blew out a shaky breath as Don's lips moved to her ear, his voice dropping an octave.

"I was thinking romantic meal for two somewhere, a carriage ride around Central Park..."

Grace's grip on his tightened. He withdrew, his hand sliding down the curve of her throat and coming to rest upon her shoulder. He could feel the tension knotted in the back of her neck underneath his fingertips. Her face had drained of colour, even the pink blush brought on by the cold air had vanished. She refused to meet his gaze, her grey eyes were fixated on something in the distance and he knew that she wasn't with him right now, she was back there with that bastard reliving something Don could not bring himself to imagine.

"I'm sorry Don, I just really hate Valentine's Day." she choked as she spoke, her distress evident in her features.

Don wrapped his arms around her rigid body, he buried his face in her hair so their cheeks were touching as he clasped her even closer. He was nowhere near the same breed of man as Will Hamlin, he didn't understand how the bastard had raised a hand to the amazing young woman in his arms. If Don had to spend the rest of his life fixing the damage the other man had done then he would. It was a solemn promise he made to himself and to Grace.

"Hey, it's ok." Don said quietly, his hands rubbing up and down Grace's coat. "We don't have to do anything special. Watch some TV maybe, make some popcorn."

"Thank you." Grace said quietly, tilting her head so it came to rest upon his chest.

She hated the idea of disappointing Don, she despised the fact she was still this cowering creature, shying away from anything that reminded her of the abuse she suffered at Will's hands. She wanted to be strong, to be able to take these steps forward without the pang of fear that flared in her chest.

This was Don, she reminded herself inhaling the clean familiar scent of his body. Her hands slid under his leather jacket interlinking at the base of his spine drawing him even closer. They fit together as if they were made for each other. She was safe here with him. Don didn't have the capacity to harm her. The raise and fall of his muscular chest pressing against her soothing.

Grace had never detailed any exact incidents to Don, she was afraid of what she would see in his eyes if she did but that terror was shifting. The desire to make him understand her plight out weighted her fear of becoming a victim all over again in his eyes. This was just another step she had to take.

"Will cooked a meal for the two of us, candles, wine, the works. I was late home from the lab, DNA had been backed up and Danny needed the help. By the time I got home everything was cold and I tried to explain, what I was doing was integral to our case" she trailed off, exhaling deeply.

Don could feel the heat from her breath upon his chest through his shirt as he listened intently. She had never directly spoken of what she had suffered at the hands of Hamlin, he knew when she was ready that the details would leak from her mouth. He knew she told Adam things and he was glad that Grace had some form of outlet. He was also glad that she was making an effort to confide in him right now.

"We got into an argument and he shoved me, I didn't brace myself for it, I just didn't expect it. I fell into the table and knocked the whole thing over. There was food and glass all over the kitchen. Will lost it, he gripped me by the hair, demanded that I clean up the mess I'd made. He grabbed the wine bottle and took it into the bedroom. He'd passed out by the time I'd finished up."

"I'm not him, you know that right?" he whispered against her hairline. "And you know that I would never do anything to hurt you."

"Your nothing like him." Grace said raising her head so she could look into Don's sincere blue eyes as she spoke. "Your wonderful and your compassionate. The way you make me feel, it's indescribable, nobody has ever made me feel the way that you do. I can relax and be myself around you and I love you for it Don."

"You do realize you just said 'I love you' right?" Don prompted, his features converting into something more serious. "Don't say it if you don't mean it Gracie."

"You know I do." she told him earnestly. "I've been in love with you from the moment you planted that kiss on me in Riley's Bar that night. I just didn't have the guts to do anything about it."

"I feel like I should be recording this moment." Don teased, his nose tracing the line of hers until he came to her lips. "Gracie, you know I wouldn't have stuck around this long if I wasn't crazy about you."

"I know and I think it's time I showed my appreciation." she murmured before drawing Don Flack into most heartfelt kiss that he had ever experienced.

Chapter 12

Summary:

What started off as a simple game of hockey has consequences for Adam and Grace.

Chapter Text

The roads were clear, much to Grace's delight. The snow had thawed last week leaving the concrete clean and slush free. The sun was bright and warming the earth as she adjusted her NYPD baseball cap so the visor kept it out of her eyes. It was perfect conditions to play street hockey.

The winter chill was still hanging in the air but Grace didn't care. She was wearing a black long sleeved shirt underneath her worn, powder blue Wonderwoman t-shirt, over dark jeans and well used roller blades. Black elbow and a knee pads protected her joints, as one of the other players attempted to smash into her, forcing her to twist out of his way in the final second. He missed by a hair's breath, sailing past her and slammed into the car parked up on the curb. In her hands she clasped the wooden hockey stick even tighter as she ducked under another player's arm and weaved past another, her eyes intent on the goal.

The Goalie's azure eyes fixed on her as she accelerated faster, drawing her arm back for the shot at the open left hand corner. She pelted the orange plastic ball at full force, watching it sail through the air. The Goalie's hand shot out snatching the ball from it's trajectory with his glove before holding it up in triumph as he stripped off his hockey mask.

"Yea, What up!" Adam yelled out loud waving the ball for Grace to see."You liked that didn't ya Grace? Thought you were gonna score but your not."

Grace flipped him her middle finger, before removing her NYPD cap and wiping the sweat off her forehead with her sleeve. Layered up in these clothes and being this active was the kind of tiresome activity she needed before going home to bed to sleep off the next twelve hours.

A car horn blared, Adam shouted the warning, picking up the net as their group divided themselves so that the car could drive through their patch of road. Grace skated after Adam as he set the net down and waited patiently for the game to continue.

"Thanks for inviting me today." Grace uttered, snatching up her water bottle and chugging from it as they watched the Black Sedan drive past.

"No problem, I forgot how competitive you are. The way you took out Kenny back there was ruthless." Adam recounted as the two of them progressed into the middle of the road again, carrying the goal between them.

"Kenny thinks girls can't play hockey." Grace complained clutching the orange ball tightly in the same hand as her hockey stick. "He got a taste of his own medicine when he tried smashing me before."

The ball slipped from her glove as she set down the goal post, she cursed trying to juggle her stick and her water bottle at the same time.

"Can you get that?" Adam called out to a young dark haired girl crossing the street as the ball rolled past her.

The girl ignored him and continued jogging towards the house on the opposite side of the road, passing a parked white van. Grace rolled her eyes at the self absorption of teenagers as Adam tossed his hockey mask to her took off after the ball. He crouched down, peering underneath the car it had rolled under before sliding his hockey stick in after it and hooking the ball with the curved end. He rose to his feet, orange ball clasped in his hand and held it up for the rest of the players to see.

"I got it..."

The explosion seemed to come out of nowhere. Grace felt the rush of heat hit her before she hurtled several feet through through the air. A bellowing roar erupting in her ears as she jolted back onto the ground hard. Her hand slapped out automatically just like her judo training taught before her neck and head had a chance to connect with the concrete. Her ears were ringing like crazy, the sound was piercing through to her brain as she lay flat on her back staring into a complete blank canvass of blue above her.

It hurt, every inch of her body was aching in response from her contact with the ground. Debris was crashing down around her, she used her arms to shield her face from flying shards of wood and shrapnel that rained down from God knows where.

Her heart was beating a mile a minute in her chest, she could feel the palpations before closing her eyes against the mist of dust that was descending upon her. She didn't know how long she lay there in the aftermath of the explosion, it could only have been minutes but it felt like hours creeping by until her adrenaline finally kicked in and forced her to her feet.

Adam was on his hands and knees, shakily clambering to his feet barely inches away from where the van had ploughed into Kenny's Jeep. She didn't want to think what had almost happened, she was thanking God for Adam's quick reflexes.

Adam stumbled a couple of steps, his azure eyes searching the scene, trying to piece together what the hell had just happened. His eyes were wide and blood shot as he took in the sight of chaos around him. Grace was already moving forward as he made tentative steps towards the devastated ruins of the house, disorientated. Streaks of blood was running down his face from abrasions on his on his forehead, his mouth twisted in a silent grimace of horror.

Grace's hand came to rest on in the centre of Adam's chest as he proceeded to take short, wobbling steps. She was relieved to find that he was still here, his heart still beating as he took in her ghostly features. His hand reached out, grasping limply underneath her elbow as he took harsh deep breaths.

"Adam, stop walking for a second alright? Can you hear me?" Grace asked, her hand coming to rest on his bearded cheek to divert his wavering attention back to her.

"Grace" he said her name as if seeing him for the first time. "You ok?"

Shock.

Grace had seen it enough times at Crime Scenes to recognize it straight away. At least that's what she was hoping right now, the gash in the creases of Adam's forehead looked pretty deep but she couldn't tell from all the blood that was still seeping out of it.

"Yea, I'm fine." Grace said guiding Adam to a clear edge of the pavement.

It was a white lie, every single muscle in her body was protesting against her movements but she could handle the pain, it reminded her that she was alive and that the blast could have turned out a whole lot differently.

"Come on Adam, we need to sit down." she said, her arm slipping around his waist to help lower him to the curb without another bump.

The sound of sirens were already echoing through the streets of Brooklyn, it wouldn't be long before help arrived. Grace just had to keep it together until then.

Already Grace could feel her own nerves beginning to falter as the rush of adrenaline began to fade from her system. Her knees went weak, she inhaled deeply to steady her traitorous synapses before lowering herself to the ground in a kneeling position in front of Adam. Her own hands were trembling as she tore part of her already ripped T-shirt off from the main body of material before bunching it tightly in between her fingers.

"I need you to keep your head still a sec so I can mop up some of this blood." she told Adam, using her thumb and forefinger to stretch the flesh on Adam's forehead to take a better look.

It didn't look as deep as she first thought but there wasn't a chance on hell it was going to close on it's own. It was likely that Adam needed stitches. She pressed the wad of material just over the abrasion before taking Adam's hand from on top of his knee and guiding it so he was holding the material in place.

"Keep the pressure on it." she ordered, checking over the rest of his body for any visible injuries.

"We were lucky Grace..." Adam said between deep breathes. "We were so lucky."

"Don't think like that." she shushed, her gentle hands cupping his scruffy features between them so they were staring directly at each other. "I need you to stay calm and stay focused right now. Can you do that?"

Adam's free hand enclosed around her wrist, squeezing it for reassurance as he nodded.

The fire truck was already turning into the street quickly followed by EMS and NYPD Squad cars. She didn't even have to look twice at the black SUV amongst them to know that Mac was behind the wheel as the SUV came to a close concise stop. Grace was relieved to see Sheldon already jumping out of the car, his dark eyes crinkling at the edges in concern as he fixated on them. Mac was already tapping his arm and pointing in the direction of the first ambulance where the owner of the house was being helped into.

Mac was upon them in seconds. His hand came to rest on Grace's shoulder, rubbing across it briskly in relief before he took control of the situation.

"Grace sit down." Mac said firmly, his hand guiding her into a sitting position on the pavement next to Adam.

Grace obeyed. She put her hands on her knees to hide the persistent shaking that was beginning to assault her entire body. The adrenaline was gone, she thought, taking a deep breath and grinding her teeth together against her treacherous body. She inhaled, clenched her fists and counted to four before releasing them again as she exhaled.

She remembered the last time that this had happened, it had been three years ago when she'd walked into a crime scene with a blast pattern. It had been insane see the devastating consequences of a bomb and then to experience the trauma first hand...

She could never forget the way her throat tightened when she saw Don being loaded into the back of that ambulance, while paramedics packed his chest full of gauze and cotton pads to stop the bleeding. His face had been so deathly, she had felt the coldness rush through her as as the stretcher went by.

That familiar disassociated feeling was back, the one where her mind took a step back from the reality for a few moments as it sized up the extent of the threat and related it to the last time they had been in this position.

There was shouting going on around her, someone was pushing a paper bag into her hands and telling her to breath as Mac vanished into the crowd. Adam's arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer against him so the two were huddled together both trembling. His presence was soothing, she knew from their past conversations that he had used to do this with his younger sister when his father's rage had been out of control.

"We're safe now." he muttered, bending his head low to her ear as she breathed in and out of the brown paper bag.

A tall shadow fell over Grace, blocking out the heat from the sun, she already knew without having to raise her eyes that it was Don was towering over her. She tilted her head up, meeting his surprised blue eyes. His face was unreadable as he placed the pieces together from her elbow pads and roller blades. He had known she was out with Adam today, as for what they were doing he was clueless until now.

"Your not supposed to see this." she informed him, her cheeks colouring with humiliation as she replaced the paper bag over her mouth.

As luck would have it Don would have had to have been one of the first responders, apparently he had been at the same crime scene as Hawkes and Mac. She was hoping to at least have cleaned herself up before they're paths crossed.

"I've seen worse." he shrugged, running a hand through her tangled mass of hair. "You ok?"

Grace nodded, before removing the paperbag from her face to speak.

"It just reminds me of last time, and it's taking me a few minutes to calm down and remember that's not you in there." she said before breathing into the bag again.

Don crouched down in front of her, his hands were on her forearms rubbing up and down them with his skilled palms. His eyes were on hers, wide and intense giving her open access and letting her see everything inside them. He was worried and scared, he hadn't expected to walk into this chaos and see her sitting in the middle. Beyond his concern there was a determination in there that she saw every time he stepped onto a crime scene. His dedication to the job, and now when she allowed herself to look deep enough his dedication to her.

"I'm right here." he told her. "And so are you."

"I know, I know." she said, raking a hand through her hair.

That didn't make it any better but as far as Don was concerned Grace could have looked like the crazy bag lady that marched up and down Broadway and he still would have fallen in love with her. His eyes dropped reviewing the way in which she held herself, she winced every time she made a movement, she caught him looking and scowled.

"Its bumps and scraps Don." she reassured him, as he gestured towards the paramedics nearby.

"Just do me a favour and get checked out. It'll take a load off my mind." he persisted as the paramedics swooped towards her and Adam as Don rose to his feet.

Grace sighed her agreement as he stepped away reluctantly to let the paramedics take over.

It was time to get back to work.


Nothing prepared you for the site of a bomb blast, Flack thought, standing in the centre of the safe zone amongst the rubble, staring at the open front of the demolished house. He would see half of the rooms from here as could the majority of people in the street.

It never failed to amaze him how much devastation could be caused by wiring a few oil drums together and attaching a timer. They were lucky nobody else had been hurt, a couple of the hockey guys had manage to uncover and drag out the only remaining occupant of the house, he was currently being whisked away in the first ambulance to County General.

It could have been worse, he thought as his eyes lingered on the van, tipped on it's side, the metal twisted outwards from the explosion.

His eyes came to rest on Grace as she glared at the paramedic who was checking her blood pressure. The powder blue Wonderwoman t-shirt he was used to seeing her in was ripped and torn along the chest and back. He thanked God she had been wearing another long sleeved shirt underneath otherwise they would have been picking bits of gravel out of her skin for days.

Her hair was a mess, it was a birds nest of debris and tangles, her pale face was smudged with God knows what. The elbow and knee pads had protected her body from any joint pain and he knew they had been lucky in the fact she was suited up for hockey.

It could have been worse, he told himself averting his gaze back to the house. It could have... but it wasn't.

"Detective Flack." a woman's voice drawled from nearby diverting his attention from the fray as he turned around to face her.

Agent Beth Stevensen was picking her way over broken panels of wood and sheets of metal as she stepped towards him. Her light brown hair was tied back into a pony hair at the back of her head, her emerald eyes were already drifting past him reviewing and assessing the damage to the premises. Her fair skin was flushed as she stepped towards him with purpose, wearing a navy blue FBI windbreaker, with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows.

If there was one thing he liked about Beth Stevenson it was the fact she was always ready and willing to get her hands dirty.

"The FBI wants you to know that our resources are at your full disposal." Beth uttered, her eyes taking in the disarray in front of her.

"Is that right?" Flack asked with a sarcastic lilt, tilting his head to the left as he raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

"Yea." Beth reported, placing her hands on her hips. "I appreciate your scepticism but contrary to popular belief your actually in good standing with my department and with a car bomb like this we need to act quickly."

"Catching a serial killer like Henry Darius will do that for ya," Flack said with a shrug before turning his attention to the task at hand. "I got my guys taking statements from the witnesses and canvassing houses to see if anyone's got an connection to the van."

"I'll keep you informed on any intelligence that we get." Beth promised before addressing her needs. "Can we run through what happened here?"

"CSI's Sullivan and Ross were engaged in a game of street hockey when the van blew..."

"Ross as in Adam Ross? Crime Lab Adam Ross?" Beth interrupted, her voice raising an octave as she spoke.

Her hand covered her mouth, a gesture Flack associated with concern and horror.

"Yea, two of our guys were caught in the blast." Flack recounted, puzzled by Beth's behaviour.

"Is he ok?" she asked abruptly, grabbing Flack's arm in a vice like grip and shaking it as she waited for an answer.

He recognized this behaviour, he had seen and been on the receiving end of it many times himself over the years, he had felt over friends, over family, just now over the woman he loved.

"He's got a deep laceration to the head otherwise, yea I think he's ok. He's over there." Flack told her, pointing at Adam who was in deep conversation with a uniformed police officer, clasping a cotton pad to his head.

Beth was off in a shot, Flack watched her retreating back, his mouth ajar as she stalked up to the injured CSI just as the the uniformed officer backed away. Adam turned to face her, imminent surprise registering on his rugged features as Beth wrapped her toned arms around his neck. Adam's free hand looped around her waist. He buried his face in Beth's hair clasping her even closer. Flack could see that Adam was talking, his hand smoothing up and down Beth's spine as he spoke. The words he couldn't hear, but he knew that they were heartfelt from the expression on Beth's face as she pulled away.

He hadn't known that Adam Ross was seeing anybody and he certainly wouldn't peg a smart girl like Beth to hook up with a guy as child like as like Adam, then again what would he know? His own situation was far from normal. Watching the two of them interact he knew their emotions were genuine. They cared deeply for each other, it was in their eyes, the intimacy behind each of their touches. Flack found he was happy for them, they both deserved a little sunshine in their lives.

He turned his own head to focus on his own ray of sunshine, still perched on the edge of the ambulance, looking bad tempered as one of the uniforms took her statement.

It seemed it was gonna be a long day for everybody.

Chapter 13

Summary:

Don comes home to Grace after the explosion...

Chapter Text

It was late when Don got into his apartment, he could see the lamp was still on in the bedroom through the tiny gap in the door Grace had left open for him. He was already pulling off his noose of a tie over his head, setting it down on the kitchen table beside his gun and badge. His suit jacket followed, he hung it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs before undoing the cuff-links on the sleeves of his shirt and pushing them up to his elbows.

It had been a long day, from the Crime Scene this morning to interrogating Micheal Elgars before he left the station house. He wanted nothing more than to rinse the scum off his skin and curl up next to Grace. There was too much evil in his world right now and he needed something to counter act it.

Don used the palm of his hand to push open his bedroom door and stopped at the sight before him, a small smile curving across his tired features. Grace was lying amongst the sheets, wearing her white vest top and boy boxers, her long lean legs were stretched out down her side of the bed. In her arms she was cradling his pillow long ways against her body, her cheek pressed into it.

Don had never seen Grace look as innocent as she did right now. His fingertips ran through her dark hair, it was still damp from the shower she must have taken before she had changed. Grace moaned in her sleep as before snuggling even more closely into the pillow. She had left her clothes in a heap on the floor at the foot of his bed, he knew she must have been exhausted after the round of interviews she had faced by the various different agencies.

Don came to sit on his side of the bed, running both hands through his hair in exasperation before casting a glance at Grace's serene sleeping form. His eyes watching the raise and fall of her chest as he listened to the sound of her breathing. He had almost lost her today.

It was the nature of their job, he knew that but he had never had to worry about it until now. He had never dated a cop before, he had never had to be the one that was concerned for someone else. Now he was getting a taste of the fear that his past girlfriends had had when he strapped on his holster and walked out of the door every day.

Don leaned forward, rubbing his painful gritty eyes with the palm of his hands. It would be unfair to ask her to quit her job. The job was Grace's life as much as it was his. She had worked for years to build a reputation for herself and to force her to choose between himself and that was cruel. He didn't know if he could do this, get so close to someone only to have them snatched away again.

It had been like a punch in the chest when he'd seen her at that crime scene today, despite the fact she'd escaped with minor injuries it had still rattled him. Deep down in his core he was scared and Don Flack had never felt this brand of fear before. It was wild and impulsive, his control was not something he was used to losing but he wasn't ready to give up the only thing in his life that made the job worth fighting for.

"I'm scared Gracie." he whispered, twisting around and letting the tip of his finger trail up and down the discolouration marring her thigh.

She was still right here underneath his hands, she was banged up and bruised but otherwise she was ok, and he knew he had to keep that in focus. He could go crazy thinking about all the things that could happen to her in their line of work. He had known from the very beginning that falling love was about taking responsibility for someone else and it was time for him to man up and finally do that.

Don leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to the apple of her cheek before lying down on the opposite side of the pillow from her. Their faces were barely inches apart. She looked so peaceful and he would give anything to see that expression on her features every God damned night.

He was still clad in his shirt and suit pants but that didn't matter to him. He just needed to feel close to her right now, to absorb some of the good in his life and outweigh all the evil that he seemed to spend all of his time fighting against. His fingers laced through hers as he settled on the pillow. Grace shifted at his touch, her eyes fluttering open until he was staring directly into that beautiful grey gaze.

"I tried to wait up." she said her voice still thick with sleep.

"I know." he uttered, his fingertips brushing the silky stray strands of hair out of her eyes.

"Did we catch the bad guy?" she mumbled, catching his hand and bringing it to her mouth so her soft lips could kiss the back of it.

"Not yet." he whispered, his forehead coming to rest against hers as she closed her eyes again. "They'll plenty of time for that tomorrow."

He cupped her cheek, his thumb caressing over her delicate cheekbones before tracing over the outline of her lips.

"I love you Grace." he murmured into the darkness.

"Love you too Don." she whispered back.

Chapter 14

Summary:

Grace and Don celebrate Valentine's Day

Chapter Text

Don was pretty sure he had been asleep when Grace had gotten in. He stirred, feeling her presence in the bedroom, the weight shifted as she sat down on her side of the bed. He heard the click of her badge as she set it down on the night stand, then the light thud of her service pistol as she placed them side by side. She was meticulous in that, the gun always had to be nearby, close to hand just in case.

He could hear the rustle of clothing as she removed her shirt and opened his eyes just in time to see her raise to her feet in order to shimmy those tight fitting jeans off of her willowy hips, leaving her clad only in her black lace panties and a matching bra.

"I missed you tonight." he told her, pulling the sheets back and rubbing his hand across the empty space beckoning for her to come join him.

"I bet you did." Grace uttered, glancing at him over her shoulder with a seductive smile.

Don raised his dark eyebrows, matching her smile with one of his own as she unclasped her bra and stripped it from her body. She turned to face him gloriously naked from the waist up. His eyes were drawn to the panties to the she was wearing, a tiny pink heart was embossed on the front caught his attention as Grace put a hand on her hip as she cocked it giving her a devilishly sexy edge.

"Happy Valentine's Day." she said, her voice low and husky as she crept into bed along side him.

Don propped his head up on one hand as his hot fingertips patterned an intricate doodle up along Grace's thigh.

"I've been thinking about you all day." he told her, his hands drifting to cup her ass and bring her even closer to his body.

"Did the pictures help?" she asked with a wicked smile as her hand reached between them caressing up and down his erect member.

"Your a naughty girl Gracie, getting me all hot and bothered in work." he spoke into her skin as he nuzzled her throat, his hands mingling in her short dark hair as he kissed her mouth.

Their tongues entwined, teasing each other as Grace pushed Don onto his back. The sight of him naked was something that never ceased to amaze her. His shoulders were broad suiting his six foot plus frame, his arms were strong and well defined as were his thighs and calves. Her playful hands ran over the lines of his chest massaging his muscles with long drawn out caresses, that caused Don to inhale deeply. She met Don's eyes as he watched her ministrations. There was something so intimate about their time together, she couldn't help but think the reason she was put on this earth was to see Don smile.

"I like it when you look at me like that." Don told her, his hands above his head, fingers entwined in the wrought iron swirls of her head board as her fingertip followed the line of his dark haired treasure trail.

"I know." she whispered, keeping eye contact as her mouth delved lower.

He gasped as her tongue traced the frayed lines of his jagged white scar. His entire body bucked at the action, she did things to him that no one else had ever been able to. Her head dipped lower, her tongue flicked over the tip of his throbbing erection. Don arched into her mouth, both hands plunging into her hair as Grace wrapped her sensual wet lips around him.

She moved with antagonizing slowness, watching his body clench every time she engulfed his full length. His fists gripped the sheets, his fingers grasping them into tiny bundles as his breathing came in ragged pants and harsh whispers of her name over and over again.

Watching Don like this turned Grace on completely. It was rare for him not to take complete control. Knowing that he wanted and desired her sent a hot tingle of anticipation rushing through her flesh. His stunning blue eyes were on hers, watching every erotic motion as she drove him closer to completion.

"Grace..." he hissed her name through grinding teeth as she withdrew from his pulsating member.

His hands were already on her hips guiding her body upwards until she was straddling his waist. His fingers ran over the front of her panties, his thumb rubbing over her clit as he teased her moist core through the material.

"God, your so wet." he muttered pulling her panties aside unable to wait any longer.

Grace adjusted herself so that she was rubbing across the tip of Don's leaking erection, her hands were on his hips, holding them down watching as his entire body strained with desperation.

"Grace..." he warned as she plunged down the length of his cock in one swift moment.

Don's entire body jerked, the cry of ecstasy erupting from his mouth was worth the time she had taken to urge him to this place. She rose her hips, moving slower this time before sinking down once again. Don's hands enclosed on her hips, she could tell he wouldn't last long from the press of his fingertips digging into her skin and his husky moans.

Grace felt her own body beginning to come undone as the two of them picked up the pace. The sensation he created in her rivalled no other. In him she found completion. The missing piece of her broken soul. Grace hadn't believed in soul mates until she'd kissed Don Flack.

A wave of pleasure overwhelmed her, dragging her under and sending a thousand fireworks rushing through her nerve endings. Her entire body tightened as she tipped her head back calling out his name. Don's hands held her steady as he rode out her orgasm, her walls enclosing like a velvet fist around him as it pushed him over the edge, a delicious moan erupting from his mouth.

Grace removed herself from his body before collapsing along the length of his tall frame exhausted and sated. Don's arm curled around her shoulders, clasping her to him tightly as his cheek came to rest upon the top of her head. Their breathing was the only sound to be heard through the confines of Grace's bedroom as they tried to catch their breath.

"Jesus, I think you almost killed me." Don panted in to her hair.

"I don't think I can move." Grace informed him, her legs still entwined in his.

"You don't have to." he told her, his free hand going under the pillow and pulling something out. "I got something for you."

Grace opened her eyes and tilted her head to see him holding a bag of Haribo Starmix between his fingers.

"Jelly sweets... What very couple needs post sex." Grace quipped before taking the packet from his hands and tearing it open before leaving the packet upon his stomach for the two of them to share as she popped a jelly heart in her mouth.

Don picked up a jelly ring between his fingers. He took her delicate hand in his own before sliding it upon her ring finger with ease.

"Are you about to ask me a very serious question?" Grace asked him, apprehension in her voice as she held her hand up to admire the yellow and red jelly ring upon her finger.

"Your not ready yet." Don assured her, running his thumb over the rim of the ring. "But when you are and I do ask for real I want your promise that your going to say yes."

"Should I be saying I do about now?"she teased him, her nose trailing along the hollow of his neck.

"You should know I've been thinking about it." he told her as her lips pressed a feather light kiss to his jaw before she whispered in his ear.

"You should know that I have too."

Chapter 15

Summary:

Grace recalls Sheldon's kindness.

Chapter Text

Over the years Grace had worked at the Crime Lab, it never failed to amaze her how close to her real family that the team had become. These were the people you spent the majority of your day with, the people that saw the worst side of you and of course the best. She knew their strengths and their weaknesses, experienced their devastations and their triumphs along side them. Over the time they sent together they had learned each others mannerisms. She knew that Stella clapped her hand to her forehead when she was exasperated, that Danny wrapped both arms around his torso when he was feeling insecure and how Adam raked his hands through his wavy hair when he was frustrated.

Watching Sheldon now through the window pane of his office she couldn't help but notice the change in his demeanour as he hung up his cell phone. His shoulders slumped as pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing the skin there between his fingers. It was rare to see him like this, Sheldon always had a smile for everyone but now he looked pained and upset. She had seen the same shell shocked expression on his face before and it made her feel uneasy.

"This may sting a little." Sheldon said, dabbing something cold onto the roaring heat from her shoulder blade.

She was standing with her back to the good doctor, shirt yet again pulled up to her shoulders where she held it in place so that the fresh cigarette burns were on display but her front was covered. They were standing in Mac's office with the shades drawn to prevent anyone from walking in and assuming the worst, the others had left to give Grace some privacy while Sheldon tended to her wounds. She winced at the sensation as he spread some more of the cooling ointment onto the next cigarette burn.

"I'm sorry, I know it hurts." he soothed, his deep voice calm and steady.

Grace bowed her head, swallowing hard past the lump in her throat at his kindness. She had been terrified what people would think if her if they saw these marks. Would they think she was weak? That she couldn't do her job? Those were the thoughts that rattled around her head, doubts that echoed in her own mind. She had let this happen, she had known Will wouldn't be able to stop himself but she had done nothing to prevent his furious onslaught. She hadn't been able to bring herself to apologize for where she'd been last night and she hadn't denied that she was thinking about leaving him.

"They're gonna scar aren't they?" she asked him, tilting her head her head even far forward, giving Sheldon a brief glimpse of the finger marks that marred the back of her neck.

"I'm afraid so." Hawkes responded, his tone even more reserved than she was used to hearing. "Cigarette burns nearly always do."

Grace closed her eyes at that knowledge. She would be carrying these burns for the rest of her life, no matter how hard she tried to forget about them they would always be there. She wondered if Will had known that, if he had thought that through or simply lost his temper when she didn't deny what he was accusing her of. There had been enough time before her return for him to sit there stewing on it last night. While she'd been experiencing the pleasure of another man, he had been planning her punishment.

"I think he did it on purpose." she found herself saying as finally the horror dawned on her.

"It doesn't matter if he did or he didn't," Sheldon said gently, screwing the lid back on the ointment. "What matters is that your safe now, your not going back there."

"I couldn't." she told him, as he helped draw the back of her shirt down to cover her back before turning around to face him. "Not even if I wanted to."

The cigarette burns weren't the worst thing that Will had done to her last night. She couldn't bring herself to tell anyone about the true terror she'd experienced at his hands. Waking up in the middle of the night to find Will on top of her holding her down with one hand as he put her service pistol into her mouth. He had counted to three out loud before pulling the trigger. She remembered hearing the dull empty click echoing in her ears, her heart hammering in her chest as he removed the gun from her mouth and laughed.

"You even think about leaving me again and I'll pull the trigger for real."

Those words had haunted her into the early hours of the morning, she didn't feel safe in her own bed let alone in her apartment. While Will slept beside her she thought of ways in which she could get out of this situation alive and somehow intact. She couldn't face a trial, she couldn't take the risk that he wouldn't be convicted, that he would make good on his promise. The thought of his face bearing down on her like that again was too horrifying for words instead she reacted on instinct, packed a bag and headed to the safest place she knew. The Crime Lab had always been her refuge, it was her place to to think when the chips were down and right now it was the only location that she felt secure.

"Grace." Sheldon said, drawing he out of her reveries.

She realized her chest was raising and falling rapidly, she could hear her own shallow breaths in her ears as she came back down to earth with a thud. Sheldon's soft hands came to rest upon her rigid shoulders as he stared directly into her eyes annunciating.

"It's over. Your safe now."

Grace was surprised to find herself believing that. She was free, Mac and Stella would round up Will while she packed some things. It was going to be fine, finally she was safe. Grace wrapped her arms round herself before speaking with earnest.

"Thanks Doc."

Grace rapped her knuckles on the glass door of the office that Sheldon occupied before pulling it open with her left hand and stepping inside. Sheldon glanced up as she entered, his hand running over his pained features as he slipped his cellphone into the interior of his suit jacket.

"Hey Doc, you ok?" she queried, closing the behind her to grant them some privacy.

Grace watched the struggle in Sheldon's strong features, she could see the exact moment that the comprehension dawned on him. Anguish and sorrow decorated his solemn expression as he put a hand to his forehead.

"My Uncle Frank had a heart attack, he's dead." Sheldon uttered, his voice straining with disbelief.

"I'm really sorry to hear that Sheldon." Grace said sympathetically, folding her arms over her chest.

"I just talked to him on Sunday, He was talking about his summer visit, he comes every July." Sheldon told her, shaking his head.

"I remember how close the two of you were, he made that sign when you got out of med school and put it on his lawn." Grace recounted the memory from a past conversation allowing the two of them to share a grim smile before Sheldon spoke again.

"The funerals the day after tomorrow."

Grace's rubbed her hand on Sheldon's back in pacifying circles.

"You don't have to worry about anything, we've got you covered here." Grace said quietly, her face displaying the kinship she felt towards Sheldon and more.

"It means a lot." Sheldon said as Grace drew him into a comforting hug.

"I'm sorry Shel, I really am."

Chapter 16

Summary:

Grace comes face to face with Michael Elgars.

Chapter Text

The garage that Michael Elgars owned was small and cluttered. He specialised in wheels, treating alloys with a solution that protected the metal from damage during everyday use. There was a line of shiny new exhausts hanging from a rack across from them. The whole place had a lived in feel to it and Grace had no doubt that if they checked the upstairs rooms they would find a makeshift bed, maybe a camping stove or living area.

Grace had heard of Elgars, from the case they had worked involving the explosion in which she and Adam had been caught up in. The stories she'd heard from Don and others around the crime lab didn't do him justice.

The Neo-Nazi skinhead, was tall as he was wide, his grey shoddy overalls covered a frame she would describe as bulging. His naked scalp was tattooed with swastikas and proclamations of white pride. Just the sight of him nauseated her on a level that she didn't know she had. Grace thought of herself as a seasoned cop but looking at this offensive son of a bitch, she realized that there wasn't a day gone by that the job didn't find something to surprise her.

Danny was barely a step behind her, his eyes on the other man sizing him up. When the two of them were on a case together Danny's protective streak always came into play. It was never overbearing or too intense, in fact it was settling to know that the other man had her back if she needed it. Men didn't review her as much of a threat until they saw Danny snarling behind her.

Which worked just fine for their partnership, she was the one that played good cop. The charming, sympathetic listener, the meek girlish Detective who wouldn't say boo to a goose. Perps trusted her more when she played that act, they were more willing to let something slip, that said even when she was faking the ability to identifying with some of the City's most degrading scumbags made her skin still wanted to crawl right off her bones and disinfect itself.

"Micheal Elgars?" she addressed the stark tall Neo Nazi, both hands on her hips, displaying her gun as she stood before him.

It was a show of dominance, one that Elgars didn't seem to take too kindly. The other man was used to being the Alpha Dog in his circle. He'd built himself up fighting for his belief even though they were twisted and vile. He stared down at her, his pig like dark eyes boring straight into her as she held her ground. If she backed down right now she would be giving him the power and Grace didn't let people bully her, not any more.

His animistic gaze flitted from her face, his mouth twisting into a sneer as he took in the rest of body leaving Grace to wish she had dressed more conservative today. His glance strayed to Danny who was watching this grotesque show with disgust.

"How can I help you?" he said mockingly, his eyes glinting as he bared his teeth at Danny.

"We want to talk to you about Xander Green." Grace said, her gaze still intent on Elgars, her right hand straying near her gun.

"I wasn't talking to you." he retorted, flicking a hand close to her face to dismiss her completely.

"Don't be stupid, Elgers you know who we are." Danny growled, holding up his badge to clarify their identity.

His eyes swept to Grace who was still standing in front of him, her eyebrows raised looking unamused at his attempt to discipline her. Danny was at her flank, she could feel the atmosphered in the air changing, the potential for violence was here. She feared Danny lashing out on her behalf, he would defend her in a heartbeat if he thought Elgars would make a move. He was hot tempered and quick to act. Even though she was the logical one she was affronted by his actions and he knew he could see that in the way her fingers flexed in and out of a tight fist. The way her jaw clenched as she willed herself not to respond to this Neanderthal.

"Women should know their place." Elgars sneered. "If this were the old days I'd be taking my turn with you making some racially pure children for The Fuhrer."

Grace snorted, she would be one of the last women selected to help carry the master race into the future. She rolled her eyes as Danny sensing the escalation came to stand along side her.

"What did I say?" he challenged Elgar's, his voice becoming rough with agitation.

Elgar's barely cast a glance Danny's way. His nostrils were flared as his fixation on Grace continued, his eyes wide daring her to do something about it.

"Then who'd be the race traitor moron, I'm second generation Irish." her mouth curved into a sickly sweet smile as she watched his face contort, shifting instantaneously from lust into something more vengeful.

"Filthy Mick." Elgars snarled before spitting directly in Grace's face.

The glob of saliva and phlegm landed on her cheek just under her left eye, the humiliation and the indignity of the act raged through her. Grace didn't even realize she was lashing out until she heard the dull thud of flesh connecting with flesh as her fist struck Elgar's jaw, practically turning his head at the use of force. Her hand exploded with pain causing her to curse as she came out of the swing.

Danny was in motion between them, his hand enclosing on Elgar's wrist twisting it up his back. He used his body weight to restrain the other man against the work bench as he reached for his cuffs as Elgar's struggled.

"Your under arrest for harassment." Danny seethed, snapping his cuffs onto Elgar's wrists and wrenching the other man straight.

"Come on man, that bitch deserved to be shown her worth." Elgar's grin was maniacal as Danny grabbed the back of his collar, pushing him forward in front of him.

"You ok?" Danny asked, glancing back at Grace over his shoulder as she followed.

Her hand was tucked into her sleeve as she wiped the smear of phlegm from her skin, her expression one of hatred and distaste.

"Once I get the feel of racist redneck off my face I'll be dandy."


The two of them were sitting across from each other in silence. Flack was sitting on one side of the interrogation room table, his arms folded over his chest as he eye balled the other man with as much contempt as he could physically muster. Elgar was probing his split lip with his finger, the blood had dried on his chin. Flack could see the bruising already forming on the other man's jaw line and he felt a sick sense of satisfaction at that.

"I want a lawyer." Elgars stated, dabbing his mouth with the back of his hand as his eyes fixed on Flack.

"I wanna win the Lotto." Flack responded in the same impassive tone of voice he'd been using for the interrogation so far.

"That little Mick slut assaulted me." Elgars snapped, pointing to his face.

"I hear differently, I hear you resisted arrest after spitting in Detective Sullivan's face." Flack said, placing his elbows on the table and leaning forward with purpose.

"Detective?" Elgars scorned. "That bitch should be on her back were she belongs servicing real Americans."

Flack could feel all the muscles in his arm tightening as he clenched his fist. What he wouldn't give to beat that smirk off this smug bastard's face.

Sticks and stones, he reminded himself.

Exasperating the situation wouldn't help solve the case in the long run. He was already striding the over the pitfall that Grace had gotten sucked into. Elgars was hateful and vindictive, he needed to be taken off the streets as soon as possible. Violence wouldn't solve this, but justice and the law would. They couldn't afford another mistake.

"Sorry pal but I don't speak fascist. We have equal rights in this country." Flack said raising to his feet.

"Equal rights, what a joke! Get her in here and I'll show her a thing or two about how real patriots should be treated." he sneered, straining at his restraints.

The door opened before Flack could react, revealing Mac with a face of thunder standing in the doorway. Mac jerked his head towards the door, gesturing for Flack to leave. Flack exhaled deeply, grateful for the change of scenery. He was out the door, slamming it behind him before diverting course and entering the observation room on the opposite side of the glass.

Grace was standing there in front of it, her arms folded over her chest as she watched Mac's attempt at interrogating Elgar's. Don came to stand alongside her, his thumb pressing the button to silence the speaker.

"He's certainly got a hard on for you." Don stated, his mouth set in a grim line.

"That's because this Mick bitch got the drop on him." Grace responded, gesturing towards the Neo Nazi in disbelief. "I don't understand how someone can be so overtly offensive. It's nauseating."

"Hate breeds hate and all that jazz." Don said, sickened by the fact that this animal was even allowed to roam free with all the the racist mumbo jumbo tattooed upon his flesh.

"I'm proud of you." Grace uttered, chancing a look at the profile of Don's face. "You rose above it, you didn't let it get to you."

"He spat in your face." Don said in her defence, his startling blue eyes fixing on her.

"He pushed my buttons and I let him." she told him with a deep sigh.

"How'd it go with IAB?" he asked her, noting that she had yet to mention her interview.

"As it's my first offence, two weeks unpaid suspension. At the worst I get a break for a few weeks." she shrugged, her dark bangs falling over her face as she peered up at him. "I don't regret it."

"Your kidding me right? Two weeks unpaid for defending yourself against that." Don exclaimed jabbing his finger at the observation window. "Jesus IAB really do despise the crime lab."

"Look at it this way." Grace said, stepping up to Don. Her hands came to rest on his chest smoothing up and down the material of his shirt as her voice lowered an octave. "I get to do whatever I want, whenever I want."

"Your really something else you know that." Don murmured into her hair as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Don't you know it." Grace said with a smirk as she drew away.

Chapter 17

Summary:

Danny and Don discuss his relationship with Grace.

Chapter Text

Reilly's Bar was busy which suited Flack's mood. Both him and Danny were perched on stools at the bar, Danny was cradling a bottle of Bud in his hand while Flack nursed a pint of Guinness. The two of them needed the distraction right now, the past few days had been a blur of heinous acts and gruesome discoveries.

Today though had been the worst, walking in on what appeared to be a Mexican stand off between Marty Pino, a handful of drug loads and a couple of ambitious kids, after discovering his murder bunker had been the perfect end to an wretched day. He didn't envy the Crime Lab or the M.E's job after seeing those steel drums lined up oozing red from rim of the lids.

Danny was peeling the label off his beer bottle, still shaking his head as he thoughts played through the events of the day. Marty Pino had been an acquaintance at the very best, but still he was shaken by the turn in which the case had taken. Never had he expected such twisted actions from someone he knew, hell he didn't expect it from any of the criminals they ran into on a day to day basis.

"It's fucked up." he submitted into the air, taking a swig from his beer bottle.

Flack nodded his head in silent acknowledgement of the statement. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the blood smeared across the kitchen utensils, clumps of discarded organs stuck to the bottom of that blender. The tang of iron was in his mouth before he washed it down with a gulp of Guinness.

"Well, I think it's safe to say neither of us will be sleeping well tonight." Flack muttered, gesturing to the bartender to keep the drinks coming.

"At least you've got Grace to wake up to." Danny pointed at Flack with his near empty beer bottle.

Flack shuddered at the thought of her sharing his experience from today. Bile churned in his stomach at the memories of Pino's death place. He couldn't detail the crimes that had been committed over the past few days. Grace had enough nightmares of her own, she didn't need his stacking up along side them.

"I'm telling you Danny, she'd been off work a week and the woman's already driving me crazy." Flack complained, in attempt to inject some humour into their dark moods. "My apartment's spotless, I have to keep telling her she's my girlfriend not my maid."

"She's bored. What do you expect?" Danny reminded Flack before a smirk curved across stubbly cheeks. "Why don't you suggest she puts on a maids outfit and get a little something something while she's making herself useful?"

"Day three." Flack informed Danny biting his lower lip at the memory as the familiar surge of endorphins rushed through him. "I come home and she's wearing one, fishnet stockings and tiny feather duster..."

Both men fell silent at the image that Flack had just illustrated.

"She's a wild one." Danny remarked, taking another swig from his beer bottle.

"You have no idea what that woman can think of when she's left to her own devices." Flack told his friend, using his fingertips to push his empty glass away from him.

"Why don't you just give it up already? Make it official." Danny prompted, a grin spreading across his face at the thought.

"Are you crazy?" Flack exclaimed, sloshing his fresh pint of Guinness as he set it down. "She's not ready for that yet."

"I dunno Buddy, the two of you are practically living together already." Danny pointed out, with a shrug of his shoulders as he thought of the next best thing. "Why not just shift her stuff over and get some help with the rent?"

"This is still Grace we're talking about right?" Flack responded. "The woman who took three months to actually spend the whole night at my place instead of sneaking out in the dead of night."

"Things change." Danny reminded the other man. "I think you'll find she has too. I've never seen her smile the way she has been recently. Months ago she would have gone ballistic over that thing with Elgars now she's all about taking things in her stride."

Flack wrapped his hands around the pint glass, his thumbs ticking out a tune as his turned his head to Danny sensing that the other man had something more to say.

"She dropped by the Lab yesterday and picked up the escape bag she was keeping at the bottom of her locker." Danny submitted, a wide grin spreading across his features like a Cheshire Cat.

Flack stared at his friend stunned, on the way in Grace had dropped in lunch for him and Angell at his desk yesterday he had never dreamed that she had another motive entirely for being in the area. The escape bag had been weighting on his mind recently, Will Hamlin had been officially charged last month. The bastard had been given five years for assault on a police officer with a deadly weapon. Mac's case had been airtight, only the fact that he hadn't actually gotten the chance to take a shot at Grace with her weapon had prevented them from upgrading the charge to attempted murder.

Grace had been a wreck in the weeks pre-dating the trial. Flack would wake up in the early hours to find her side of the bed empty and the window in the lounge leading to the fire escape open. Many a night he'd found her sitting out there, clad in one of his hockey jersey's smoking from the emergency pack of Marlborough's she kept to hand. On nights like that he would take the blanket from the back of the couch and fold it around the both of them while they watched the sunrise on the city in silence.

"Made you think no?" Danny said breaking through Flack's memories with a knowing look.

"Nine months isn't a long time." Flack stated staring into the depths of his glass.

"Almost six years Flack." Danny pointed out. "That's how long the two of you have been doing this dance."

Danny was right, their relationship had had started the moment the two of them had met. There hadn't been another woman that could fulfil him after she'd walked into his life, even though he had spent years trying to fill the hole that was aching in his soul. They had wasted so much time searching for each other in the depths of other people. This was it for him. There wouldn't be anyone else after her.

Flack rubbed the back of his head. Everyday their job was filled with more and more uncertainty, hell the entire world was. Who knew what was going to happen tomorrow?

Why waste the moments you have left?

How close had the two of them come to losing each other over the years? The answer was staring Flack dead in the face as he thought about it.

Too many...

"We live in dangerous times." Danny told him. "I say if you love her go for it."

"Your a romantic at heart you know that Messer?" Flack said, clinked his glass against Danny's beer bottle in agreement before chugging down the rest of his pint.

He rose to his feet, snatching up his leather jacket off of the bar.

"Where you going?" Danny asked, frowning at the other man's sudden change in behaviour.

"There's something I gotta do." Flack responded, tugging his jacket up over his shoulders.

"Now?" Danny exclaimed, his face lighting up as he clambered to his own feet.

Flack shrugged his shoulders, that boyish smile was back on his features and Danny could see the extent of the happiness shining in his friend's eyes as the two looked at each other.

"Good luck man." Danny beamed, clapping Flack on the shoulder in joy.

"It's Grace we're talking about here." Flack reminded him, rolling his eyes. "I'm gonna need all the luck I can get."

Chapter 18

Summary:

What happens to Grace changes their lives forever.

Chapter Text

The Tilbrey Diner was a place that Grace had frequented a dozen times over the years, it was a popular choice for cops all over the city since it was located across from the Court House. They were famous for their feather light pancake batter and their deliciously sweet maple syrup and she was in the mood for a little of both right now while she had the time.

She'd had to skip breakfast this morning at her parents place in order to get up and drop her parents off at the airport since their ride had cancelled last night. After she'd gotten the call, she'd driven straight to their place in time for dinner and stayed over the night. Their flight to Toronto to see her brother Jared had been at eight, and dragging herself out of bed at the crack of dawn to drive them had played havoc with her now routine eating habits.

Despite the fact it was only a week into her suspension she missed the Crime Lab fiercely. She liked the hustle and bustle of activity and the science of it all. Yet if she was honest she did enjoy the opportunity to make plans that she didn't have to break time after time and she knew last night when she'd turned up for dinner at her parents place they had been overjoyed to see her. Her Pops complained that she was getting too thin and her mother had been asking after Don again, clucking at her lack of Grandbabies.

Grace had rolled her eyes at her mother's nagging, it was a factor in every conversation they seemed to be having recently. Her mom would point would out that Grace wasn't getting any younger, and Grace would remind her mother that a baby wouldn't fit into her life in the City right now, which opened a whole different kettle of fish about moving back to the suburbs.

Grace checked her phone for the second time since she'd stepped through the door of the diner biting her lower lip in thought. She really owed Don an apology for not texting him last night to let him know she was going to be staying at her parents. He'd been working a tough case recently and every time he dropped by the apartment she could see just how dog tired he was. She didn't want to distract him from anything important so she'd settled on leaving a note upon his pillow instead. The past few nights he'd basically crashed straight into bed after he'd been getting in.

Grace cupped her cell phone in her hand before slipping into the nearest array of seats at the back of the diner so she could review the Special's board. She ordered a coffee to start before her thumb flicked over speed dial one and she rose the phone to her ear.

"Flack."

"I am thinking tonight, you and me, that black lacy thing I picked up from Victoria's Secret, maybe the handcuffs..." she said in that smoky, wicked tone she reserved only for him.

"Mom?" Don uttered, casting a glance at Terrence who sitting beside him in the silver Beamer reading through the details of his confidential informant deactivation form.

"I certainly hope that you don't think of your mother that way Detective Flack." Grace laughed, understanding that he wouldn't be able to return the favour in the dirty talk department. "What are you doing?"

"Breaking up with an old friend." Don told her, handing over a pen from the interior pocket of his suit jacket to Terrence. "You?"

"Apparently watching Jess escorting in Connor Dunbrook, he must be treating them to breakfast before court." Grace mused, giving Angell a finger wave as the other woman nodded her own greeting.

"Tilbrey Diner?" Don guessed, taking the pen back from Terrence and returning it to it's place alongside his notebook. "I'll come meet you when I'm done here."

"I would love that." Grace said, a smile spreading across her pretty features as she took a sip from her coffee cup.

"Great, I have something I wanna..."

The noise that ripped through the diner was tremendous as the black truck straight hurtled through the front window. The grinding of twisting metal and shattering glass rang in her ears as the roar of an large engine charged underneath. The phone slipped from her fingertips, clattering on the surface of the table as she dove from her seat. On the opposite side of the room Angell was yanking Connor Dunbrook out of his seat by the collar and shoving him to safety.

Grace was on her feet in an instant, hand furling around the grip of her Glock as the black truck ground to a halt midway through the debris, the top of it scrapping across the ceiling as it took out the rotating fan. Grace's thumb was already on the safety, flicking it off as the doors of truck jerked open.

"NYPD." she screamed, her gun swinging up as she caught the flash of a muzzle though the open truck window pointing in Angell's direction.

The other woman's head was bowed, her gun was in her hand tilted downwards as she pushed Dunbrook down behind an overturned table. She was doing what cops do, protecting someone, even though they were a murdering piece of crap and some bastard was about to put a bullet in her back.

Grace was already firing, her bursts controlled and focused as the gunman rushed at the other woman. Her bullet caught him in the shoulder, swivelling his whole entire body away from Angell and smashing him into the wall.

Angell screamed her name, her gun already in motion. Grace could see the fear in her eyes as she twisted in time to see the second gunman upon her. The Desert Eagle clasped in his hands seemed like overkill. She knew the damage that gun could do. The bullet would tear through her flesh like it was a piece of meat in no time. That was the problem with working around crime scenes, she's seen the devastation first hand, she knew how this played out. His finger was twitching on the trigger, she could see the muscles tightening as his hand tensed.

It was too late, she knew that but she had to try. She had too much to lose now. She thought of Don, his boyish smile, the roughness in his voice when he whispered in her ear first thing in the morning. She thought of the joy she felt when he entwined his fingers in hers, the love that shone in those beautiful blue eyes when he looked at her. She had to try...

Grace's finger was already on her own trigger, she had one, maybe two rounds left in the clip. She swung her Glock up to take the shot.

As Grace expected he was faster, she heard the retort ringing in her ears before she felt the impact ricocheting through her entire body. There was a moment of numbness,she felt like she was suspended in mid air before she hit the ground with a sickening crunch. The pain was excruciating, she had never felt anything like the burning agony that was tearing up her insides.

The taste of copper was in her mouth, strong and poignant. Her chest was constricting as she tried to suck in a deep breath and failed. She pressed her hand to her stomach feeling the hot, sticky flow of life flooding from her body.

Jesus, Grace wished it didn't have to end like this.


The drive was a blur that Don would never be able to recall, what he would remember later on was the intense urgency that overwhelmed him along with the severe sense of panic. His mouth was dry, his knuckles white as he clenched the steering wheel. The radio was crackling with activity, Don was half listening catching flashes of the words 'gun shots' and 'escaped prisoner'.

Don wasn't a praying man but he was hoping to God right now that Grace was prepared, that she was armed. This was Grace he was talking about, she was the calm one in situations like this, always ready to do what needed to be done. She was good at gauging the risks and weighing the options. She was also impulsive.

The scene that greeted him did nothing to soothe his fears. His heart was pounding against his ribs, he could feel his breath coming in ragged, worried pants as his eyes darted over the scene taking in detail after detail.

The black truck that was sticking out of the whole front section of the diner window, the NYPD Squad cars that were lined up blocking off the scene. Uniforms were heralding back the crowd trying to generate some order amongst the chaos.

Don was already out of his car and running, his hand came to rest on the huge tire of the truck for counter balance as he squeezed through the gap between the it and the mangled metal of the window frame.

The interior of the diner was in complete disarray. Tables and chairs were strewn out and off kilter, there was glass crunching underfoot as he took wavering steps forward, each breath becoming heavier as the images he was processing filtered through to his brain. His mouth twisted into horrified grimace as he took in the scene.

Jess was kneeling on the floor in a pool of blood that was spreading with every second she stayed there. Both of her hands were pressing onto Grace's abdomen as she barked out orders at the uniforms around her. There was blood splashed up her clothing as she spoke, she was covered in the substance. Don swallowed hard, tasting it in the air as he inhaled. The steps he was taking now were slow and deliberate, he sank down to his knees, his fingers reaching out and cupping Grace's ivory cheek as wide grey eyes roamed wild and unfocused.

"Hey, hey Grace." he soothed, his thumb chasing away the tears that trailed down the apple of her soft cheek. "Hey doll, will you look at me?"

Grace's tortured eyes came to rest on his as her chest jerked with short, wet breaths. Don's voice lowered an octave, his tone becoming tender as her weak bloody fingers grasped the sleeve of his suit jacket, groping for his hand.

"I'm here Gracie, I'm here." Don told her quietly as Jess screamed out for the ambulance.

"Get the car." he demanded, nudging Jess out of the way, his own hand coming to optimize the pressure on the gouged hole in Grace's flesh.

Jess took off in a sprint towards the open gap in the window as Don wrapped Grace's arm around his neck before looping his own underneath the back of her knees. She whimpered in agony, her head tipping back as he lifted her as gently as he could.

"I've got you Grace, I've got you." he murmured, drawing her body close to his chest.

Her life was slipping away underneath his hands, he could feel it draining out of her with every step he took, in all the seconds that they waited. Her body was limp as he carried her outside towards the waiting squad car. A uniform was already yanking the door open, holding it there to allow Don full access to the back seat.

He laid her down as if she were a sleeping child, with a care he had only for her. Her long eyelashes were fluttering closed against her pale cheek as he climbed in beside her, the uniformed officer slamming the door shut behind him. His hand was back on Grace's wound smothering it with his palm, trying to keep the pressure hard and consistent as Jess threw her foot down on the pedal, reversing the squad car at full speed.

Grace's hand sought out his own, her frail fingertips ran over his knuckles before coming to rest in the gaps between his fingers. Her lips were moving and he could hear a ghost of a whisper instead of her sweet smoky voice. He leaned forward, his dark head bent closely barely making out each of the words as she repeated them.

"Love you."

Chapter 19

Summary:

Don struggles in the aftermath of Grace's shooting.

Chapter Text

The waiting room of the surgery wing was bustling. Doctors and nurses were streaming through corridors seeking access to the other areas of the hospital. People were seated in stiff chairs, reading magazines or watching the T.V waiting patiently for the news of their relatives.

Danny didn't understand that, he didn't understand how they could sit so quietly and still. His own mind was whirring, he was constantly in motion, his thumbs tucked through the rungs of his denim jeans as his hands patted out a nervous pattern upon his thighs with his fingertips. His eyes were searching the throngs of people for Don and right at the back near the double doors that led to the operating rooms he found him.

Don looked just like all the others. His body was devoid of any movement, his shoulders were set back and rigid as he stared straight ahead, his gaze fixated on the vacant air in front of him. His suit jacket was gone, where Danny didn't know. He was too busy taking in the sight of Don and the blood patches that were smeared across the pinstriped shirt and yellow tie. Danny knew without any kind of DNA test that it was all Grace's.

"Don." Danny called out, taking long purposeful strides towards his friend.

Don twisted his head towards Danny. Danny could see the torment already fermenting in his pained blue eyes before the other man even uttered a word. He felt like the breath had been knocked out of him as he stared at Don's slumped shoulders and bleak expression in dismay.

Disbelief washed over him as Don screwed up his eyes tightly, opening and closing his mouth to speak but no words were released. Don tilted his head away, clenching his jaw, Danny eyed the balled fists on his lap as he struggled to compose himself, his entire body starting to quake. His eyes rose sky wards before the basest of words left his mouth.

"Grace..." he choked, shaking his head. "Grace."

"Don?" Danny said, his voice sounded like a young boy's.

"They don't think she's gonna make it." Don's voice, a ragged whisper. "The bullet destroyed one of her kidneys and lacerated her liver. She's in a coma because the blood loss restricted the oxygen flow to her brain. They said she'll be lucky if she gets through the night without having a stroke."

Danny closed his own eyes, his hands coming to rest on his hips as he sucked in a deep breath and prayed for strength. Every single impulse in him was urging him to lash out and hit something, to destroy something, to respond to this violent act with one of his own.

Don was falling to pieces in front of him. He could see the other man trying to hold it all together, struggling all the time, fighting with his grief, His eyes were red rimmed and glistening as he bowed his head, his knuckles were stained white against the blood on his hands.

It wasn't fair, Danny thought. It wasn't fair that after everything that it had to end like this. The two of them were just in reach of the finish line and someone had cruelly snatched that away.

Danny dropped down into the seat beside Don, bending his head close so the other man could hear the quiet murmur of his voice.

"It's Grace." Danny stated, his voice trembling just a little under his own bravo. "She's tough, she's not coming this far just to let you go again."

Don leaned forward rubbing his hands over his face as he gave away to the sorrow that torrented through his body. He couldn't stand this. The memories were flashing in front of his eyes like scenes from a photograph. He looked at his hands shaking, her blood was still on them. The essence of her life threaded through his head as he recalled the last words she spoke.

"Love You."

They echoed in his head like a sonnet. Don pressed his hands together as if in prayer. He was not a praying man but he was willing to make amends if it meant that Grace would live. He would do whatever it took to see that beautiful smile all over again

Dear God, don't let this be the end.

 


 

Grace looked like an angel, but then again Don had always thought that. Her short dark hair was splayed across her pillow, her skin was the palest he had ever seen. Her body was attached to an assortment of IVs and wires to machines that monitored everything from her heart rate to her brain activity. The doctors were watchful, she was in good hands here and he knew that but it didn't stop the worry that was crushing down on him. His chest felt tight as he took her delicate hand between both of his larger ones. She was still warm, still living, still breathing right now.

His gaze strayed down to her chest, mesmerised by the rise and fall of her diaphragm. Every time she took a breath it left him wondering whether it would be her very last. He wondered if Grace was aware of what was going on around her, if she could hear him when he spoke. He didn't want to leave here and have the last words he'd said muttered in the heat of the moment.

"I love you." Don found himself saying, withdrawing a hand from hers in order to sneak into his pocket and withdraw a tiny silver circle. "I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy. I wanna hear you laugh again, I wanna hold you close while we..."

The memory was too painful too vivid, he couldn't being himself to think of the last moments he had spent making love to her. His mouth turned to cotton as he took her ring finger gently between his and extended it.

"I was gonna tell you this last night but you'd gone to your parent's place and I..." he hesitated, inhaling deeply before pushing on. "I was gonna ask you tonight doll, but I'm not sure if the two of us are gonna be keeping that date."

He slid the ring onto her finger. To his surprise it was a perfect fit as if it had belonged there all along. He was drowning with that idea, fighting the knowledge that she may not come through this, that they might not be able to have their happy ending after all.

"I gotta go away for a little bit." Don said quietly, his fingertips brushing the hair away from her eyes. "But I'll be back."

He leaned over and pressed a butterfly kiss to her forehead before withdrawing. He cast a long, antagonizing look back at her as he reached for the door handle before speaking.

"I love you too Gracie."

Chapter 20

Summary:

Adam and Beth watch over Grace while Flack and Angell make a move.

Chapter Text

The coffee was cold, Angell winced as she took a sip from her cup before setting it back down again on the corner of her desk. She had been sitting at her desk for the past hour processing the paperwork for the shooting, it never ceased to amaze her how when every cop in the city was out searching a would be cop killer she would be the one stuck manning the phones and chained to the desk.

Part of her thought maybe she deserved this as punishment for not having Grace's back in the diner. Her attention had been too focused on getting that slimeball Connor Dunbrook to safety instead of watching her own ass or that of her friends. It was part of the job and because of that she had reacted instinctively, preserving the witness instead of saving her own skin.

Over the past months Angell had come to see Grace as a friend, the other woman was understanding and attentive when the two of them discussed the tolls the job was taking on Angell's own life out side of work. Grace had pointed out it wasn't just that the job was a full time gig, it was that it swiftly became your life.

The few times they'd worked cases together Grace had made her laugh with her wisecracks and awed her with compassion to empathize with a victim. She saw the victims as they were when they were alive, every crime scene she attended she plucked up the details of their lives and filed them away until they made the picture of the living person whose corpse lay cold and lifeless in the morgue. It was one of the reasons she couldn't help but think that Grace Sullivan deserved a lot better than the raw deal she was getting right now.

Angell raked both hands through her loose curly tresses, she couldn't get the images from the diner out of her head. The other woman's expression of resignation and agony as she went down, Grace's blood seeping through her fingers, the sound of her strangled sob at the sudden increase in pressure.

She couldn't face Flack right now, she was responsible for this mess, if she had been faster she could have prevented it. If her focus hadn't been Dunbrook she'd have been able to back up Grace. It killed Angell to hear the sincerity in his voice when he had been trying to sooth Grace, she had never heard his voice dip so low before, she had never heard such tenderness in his tone. She'd never heard him panic before today.

God had a sick sense of humour twisting fate like that and putting Grace in the diner today. They didn't deserve this. For the first time since their partnership had started Angell had seen the spark that was in Flack's eyes, he grinned a lot more, his life had more weight to it and Angell knew that no matter what evil perverse things they had seen during the course of the day that her partner would be returning for the next shift with a smile on his face and a refreshed attitude towards their duty.

Sitting here gave her all the time in the world to think and she couldn't help but brood on the events that had occurred this morning. She'd heard down the grapevine the news of Grace's condition. The outlook didn't look good.

The bullet they had pulled out of her had been a fifty calibre hollow point, it had blown a sizeable hole in the other woman's abdominal cavity, penetrating through her left kidney and lacerating her liver. The other woman was lucky to have survived a shot like that in the first place, and then to battle with the odds through surgery...

Angell was just really glad that Grace was living and breathing at the moment. A gunshot did a lot more damage than people knew, Angell blamed the entertainment industry for half the idiots that toted weapons around them. Seeing someone walk away after being shot was common place in the movies and on TV. Experiencing it was something completely different.

Angell looked up as a shadow fell over the width of her desk and was surprised to find herself into Flack's desolate blue eyes. His face was impassive as he cocked his head to the right as he reviewed her. He had changed his shirt and tie since she had last seen him, his hair was still damp from the shower he must have taken somewhere in between the discovery of the Black Ops Hummer and the attempted recovery of Connor Dunbrook.

"Any news?" she asked respectfully.

Flack shook his head, his jaw set, the muscle in his cheek twitching.

"There's a raid in thirty, in the place where we think their held up." he said simply, holding up two bulletproof vests, one in each hand. "You in?"

Angell opened her desk drawer revealing her backup service pistol. She weighed the gun in her hand, her fingers wrapping around the grip as she removed her badge, slipping them both onto the desk before she rose to her feet. Angell gestured for him to hand over the smaller version of the blue NYPD vests.

"I'm sorry that this had to happen." she found herself saying as he complied

"That seems like the only thing anyone can say to me today." he said gruffly, pulling his own vest over his head.

Angell pursed her lips together in a grimace, shaking her head. There was nothing she could say that would take away what had happened in the past twelve hours. Nothing could absolve her of the guilt she felt over her own reactions. In the end she said nothing as she picked up her spare holster and attached it to her belt.

"You wanna do something useful, make sure you have my back in there." Flack told her, yanking the velcro patch even tighter across his side to close off any vulnerabilities.

Angell took in the determination that was set in her partner's features before she hit the release button to her service weapon and checked the clip to ensure everything was in working order.

They couldn't afford any more mistakes...

Not today.


Beth Stevenson hated hospitals, she had spent too much time stuck in a ward in Washington two years ago to ever feel comfortable in one. Despite that fact she had made a special effort to come here today. This wasn't about her or her issues, this was about Grace and the condition she was in.

In her hands she was carrying a bouquet of brightly coloured carnations. Out of all the flowers at the gift shop carnations had seemed like the best bet, lilies had seemed to mournful and Grace hated roses.

The door to Grace's room beckoned and Beth took a second to prepare herself before pasting a smile upon her worn features and stepping inside. Adam turned his head in response to the sound of the door clicking shut behind her, a small smile gracing his exhausted expression before he turned his attention back towards his friend.

If she was honest Beth hadn't known what to expected when she had stepped inside the room, but the sight of Grace hooked up to different machines knocked her for six. She had never seen Grace look so vulnerable. She looked so small and fragile tucked into that hospital bed. Beth felt herself exhale deeply before she composed herself again.

"Flowers? Why didn't I think of that?" Adam questioned, clapping a hand to his forehead as he rose his eyes skyward.

"You had bigger things to worry about." Beth said softly, her mind still reeling from the sight before her.

She had seen Grace two days before at yoga, the other other woman had been bitching about being out of practice, which Beth had pointed out was due to the manic shifts she had been working for the past few weeks. They had left after attending the juice bar. Beth returning back to work and Grace heading to her boyfriend's place in a bid to catch him before he went back on shift that afternoon.

Beth was already running through the motions, she was deep in thought as she retrieved an empty vase from the cupboard in the bottom of the night stand. She filled it up with water from the en-suite bathroom before unwrapping the flowers and placing them inside the vase. Adam watched with amusement as she returned to the bedside table and placed it upon the smooth surface. She rose her eyes catching Adam's expression before shrugging it off.

"I like to be proactive." she said by way of explanation.

"I get it." Adam said sincerely, pulling up the chair next to him to give Beth space to sit down.

"So hows she doing?" Beth asked, rubbing her hands on her thighs of her jeans anxiously.

Her eyes were on Grace's face taking in the other woman's haggard features as she slowly lowered herself into a sitting position. The toll the bullet has taken upon her body was a terrible one and Beth found herself praying that her friend would make it through the night and get through this obstacle.

"The same." Adam sighed with a dejected shrug. "I keep hoping she'll wake up but nothing yet. The doctors say these twenty four hours are the most crucial."

"Her body's be through a lot of trauma, it just needs some time to rest." Beth said gently in a bid to reassure her lover.

"I can't believe this happened." Adam murmured, rubbing both hands over his face in weariness. "I saw her this morning, we were talking about another hockey game. I told her to bring me back some pancakes. She just doesn't deserve this."

Beth's hand sought out his, her fingers wrapping around his before giving them a light squeeze.

"God never gives us more of a burden than we can carry, as my mom likes to say." Beth quoted.

"I don't believe in a God that could do something like this." Adam told her fiercely, his azure eyes meeting hers, daring her to challenge him.

Beth traced the pattern of his dark beaded bracelet on his wrist. She knew Adam's reservations with religion and she didn't mind them. He wasn't angry at her, he was furious at the situation and enraged at the men who had done this to his friend.

"There isn't an explanation that I can see behind it." she admitted. "But God or no God we have to believe that she is going to pull through this, that she will be ok, otherwise we're giving up on her and Grace deserves more than that from us."

Adam swallowed back the aching emotion that was raising in his chest and nodded. His thumb traced over the outline of Beth's knuckles as they sat in silence for a few moments.

"She's like a sister to me you know?" Adam said, his voice breaking just a little. "I just can't stand to see her like this knowing the person who did it is still out there."

"You've got the best team in the world working on the case, they're not going to stop until they've bought the people who did this to justice." Beth reassured him.

"Mac will get them." Adam agreed, wiping at his moist eyes with the back of red and orange checked sleeve before breaking into a small chuckle. "You must think I'm a sissy or something crying like this."

"Adam..." Beth began kindly, cupping his rugged features in both of her hands as she looked deeply into his. "I think your incredibly courageous. Your here for your friend because she's important to you and if anything it makes me love you even more."

Adams hand enclosed over hers and brought it to her mouth so he could kiss her pulse point before murmuring the words.

"Thank you."

Chapter 21

Summary:

Grace wakes up and Don makes a decision he can't come back from.

Chapter Text

It hurt. That was the first and only thought in Grace's mind as she lay there staring at the ceiling trying to catch her breath. She could sense the flurry of activity around her as flashes of faces both familiar and not assaulted her vision. There were voices, so many people talking at once, she could hear the urgency in their tones but her mind was stumbling over the words.

Jesus, she was so tired, her body was so weak and exhausted, she could barely move. Her eyes began to flutter closed again as the darkness claimed her like a wave dragging her back under. A hand slipped into hers, she could feel the rough scars from his own cigarette burns across the back of her hand.

Adam.

The name brought a tiny smile to her face, it generated some stability amongst the confusion that was waging around her. Her fingers hooked his lightly, she managed to tense them for a second or two before her grip went slack.

Her head was spinning, she could feel the room revolving as her head tipped backwards into the pillows, her eyelids heavy. She wanted to fight it, to open her eyes and see what was going on around her but in the end the exertion won out and she was drawn back into a endless sea of nothing.


It was the Desert Eagle that sealed the deal.

Simon Kade was lying flat out on his back upon the concrete floor, rasping from the bullet wound to his gut. It was fitting, Flack thought as he stood over the other man watching the sheen of sweat glistening on the other man's face. Kade cast a long look at the discarded weapon, lingering tantalisingly out of reach.

The blood was spreading across his white wife beater, staining it as he drew in each choked, shuddering breath. Flack reviewed the other man coldly, his gaze straying to the padding bandaged on his left shoulder, spotting crimson from a bullet wound Angell had managed to get off just after Grace had gone down.

It never failed to amaze Flack how fate intervened sometimes. If Grace hadn't had a craving for pancakes this morning, if he'd left the bar earlier last night, if Grace had never been suspended...

All of those things factored into this moment, he couldn't change any of them but he could get justice for what had been done. Simon Kade had shot to kill this morning at the diner, it was only fair that he gave the other man the same chance as he'd given Grace.

He levelled his weapon with Kade's head, he watched the other man's eyes widen in surprise and horror as he lifted his head to stare down the barrel of Flack's Glock. His dark eyes flickered to the NYPD badge hanging on his waist before coming to rest back on the weapon pointed directly at his face.

Flack thought about Grace, the way her smile lit up the room like sunshine when it erupted on her face, the sound of her abrupt laugher jingling around the apartment when she was watching the TV with the volume turned up just that little bit too loud. The intensity in her gaze when she leaned in, brilliant grey eyes on his as his fingertips ran though her short silky dark hair smoothing it away from her porcelain features.

He thought about saying goodbye to all that, about the blood he'd scrubbed off of his hands in the Men's Room of the Precinct, and the sound of her antagonized whimper in his ears as her life ran out through his fingers.

He couldn't bare the thought of waking up every morning without her, knowing that she wouldn't be at the Crime Lab to give him a wink or a finger wave, that he would be spending every night for the rest of his life alone because there was no one else who could ever take her place.

His finger tightened around the trigger as their life together flashed before his eyes. An assemble of random jigsaw pieces in no particular order as the details of the crime filtered through to his brain drowning out his memories.

50 calibre, hollow point.

Desert Eagle.

Severe blood loss.

Death.

He could hear his own controlled breathing as he looked down at the man wheezing on the floor almost absently, he was here in this moment and it was time to do what was right. Every action had a consequence. This was Simon Kade's coming back to bite him in the ass. Flack stared the immobile man straight in the eyes as his finger squeezed the trigger. He watched his pupils dilate as the crack of the gun shot resounded in the air, his body jerking once as the bullet pierced his brain.

His own breathing was coming in rapid pants now as he stared at the corpse. He had expected to feel relief at this action, satisfaction even. Instead he was overwhelmed by a sense of numbness, a feeling that left him both drained and empty.

Flack was already walking like a ghost up the stairs that led from the Boiler Room up to the main floor of the warehouse. He heard footsteps coming towards him, he tilted his head up to see Danny standing at the top of the stairwell, gun swinging downwards when he caught sight of Flack skulking towards him.

"Hey, we got Connor, he's unhurt. One more perp's unaccounted for." he relayed to Flack, his eyes darting past the other man to the archway of Boiler Room.

"He's in there." Flack stated, his voice devoid of emotion.

His eyes met Danny's as he came to a halt at the top of the stairs. There was a moment between them that frightened Danny. He saw a desolate waste ground in his friend's eyes, a bleakness he had never acknowledged up until this point.

"You alright?" he asked, unable to hide the concern in his tone.

There was a second where Danny could see Flack searching inside himself for the answer.

"I'm fine." Flack dismissed before stepping past Danny with single minded purpose.

His cellphone was in his pocket trouser pocket, Flack waited until he was out of sight before his hand snaked inside and pulled it out. His heart began to beat little faster in his chest as he reviewed the details on the tiny screen. He was starting to feel sick as the avenues of his future stretched before him.

Three missed calls from Adam and one voice mail message.

His finger was automatically running over the familiar number for his voice mail service. His thumb hovered over the call button for a second as he tried to steady the tremble of his hand. He couldn't take any more today, that much was evident. This was the last thing he had to do, the last responsibility he had right now. The next few minutes would come shape the path he would walk for the remainder of his life.

He hit the call button and listened with a nauseating sense of dread as the phone connected him to the voice mail service. He could hear Adam's bated breath on the other end of the line as he blurted out the two words Flack had been waiting for all day.

"She's awake."

Chapter 22

Summary:

Grace finally wakes up.

Chapter Text

Don was wearing his downtime clothes. Civvies, Grace called them, with a laugh and a joke about how he reminded her as a superhero. He was wearing dark blue jeans, and one of his long sleeved navy coloured T-shirts.

His eyes were closed, his head tilted to one side as he slumbered. His arms were folded over his broad chest as Grace watched the deep raise and fall of his chest. His face was lined with dark stubble, she wanted to run her hands over it, to kiss his mouth and tell him that it was all ok. She was here with him and she was staying. She could see how exhausted he was, how much of a toll this ordeal had and was still taking on him.

Grace shifted, trying to get more comfortable. Her ass was going numb from resting in this position, her was back stiff from being propped upright for so long. She hissed in pain through her teeth as she sagged back onto the pillows. She could barely move more than a few inches without the muscles in her stomach wrenching in agony. That and the crippling weakness that was so deep set in her muscles it rendered her practically useless, made her irate and exhausted..The doctors had told her to resist trying to be too mobile, she was to hit the call button if she needed anything.

"He's been out like a light for the past hour." Mac offered from the other side of the bed.

Grace jerked her head towards him in surprise, her cheek coming to rest on the plush pillow as she looked at him. He leaned forward in his chair, both hands clasped together as he reviewed her with clinical eyes.

"Jesus, Mac your worse than Batman." Grace uttered quietly, rubbing her hand across her forehead feeling her heart rate beginning to slow down as she took a deep breath.

"Sorry." Mac said with a small smile as he folded his copy of The Ledger. "How are you feeling?"

"One kidney lighter." Grace said light-heartedly, pressing her hand to the large cotton pad that covered her abdomen before adding. "In pain, sick and phenomenally tired."

"That's your body's way of starting to heal." Mac reassured her. "You remember much about what happened?"

Grace sighed as her hands came to rest upon her stomach over the standard issue hospital blanket.

"I don't remember much of anything from the past forty eight hours." she admitted. "Just snatches, but I'm told that's normal after surgery."

Mac pursed his lips sympathetically. Stella had already filled Grace in on the circumstances involving the past two days, he had wanted to see if there were any questions she needed answers to before he finished up from the night. In reality he wanted to see for himself how she recovering, it had frightened him to have her come this close to death all over again.

"Your parents are on their way here." Mac informed her. "They just got on the plane in Toronto, they're bringing your brother Jared along with them."

"Wow." Grace said, raising her eyebrows in mock surprise. "I feel honoured. I get to see him once a year at Christmas usually. I should get shot more often."

"I don't think Don or any of us could take it if it happened again." Mac submitted, a tone of warning in his voice.

"I don't think I could take going through the agony again. I only have one more kidney left." she reminded him before casting a curious glance at Don's sleeping form. "How is he?"

"He's hanging in there. I think this whole thing gave him a wake up he didn't expect." Mac said with his usual blunt honesty.

"So I see." Grace remarked, holding up her left hand for Mac to see the engagement ring perched on her finger. "I'm pretty sure that wasn't there when I got hit."

"People do hasty things in the heat of the moment." Mac commented, leaning back in his seat watching Grace's indecision over the matter.

"I know." she said sadly, staring down at the glittering silver ring.

"He loves you Grace." Mac stated as a matter of fact. "I believe that as much as I believe that there's a God watching over every single one of us up there."

"But..." Grace prompted, sensing the unspoken word in his sentence.

"He's a different man to the one that you left behind." Mac told her. "I don't think he realized the implications of falling in love with someone in this job."

"Mac?" Grace pressed.

There was something just under the surface, she could read it in his voice and in the crinkle at the edges of his mouth as his lips set in a grim line.

"Whatever happened is between Don and his maker." Mac said gesturing with his hands before approaching the topic that was really on her mind. "You need to think carefully before you take a step like marriage. The blade cuts both ways, if this can happen to you what stops the same thing happening to Don. You need to be sure that you can handle it before you even contemplate saying the words 'I do'."

Her head was hurting, she could feel the pain gnawing at her temples as she pinched the bridge of her nose. Before this had happened she would have jumped at the chance at becoming Don's wife, but now?

There was so much to think about, too much to contemplate. Grace knew she could go the distance, but could Don really go through this again if something happened to her?

Mac rose to his feet, leaving her deep in thought.

"I need to get back to the lab." he said remorsefully before fixing her with a sincere stare. "I'm glad your ok."

"Yea me too." she responded, giving him a weak finger wave before casting a glance at Don.

The question is would the two of them be ok?


The room was shrouded in darkness when Don woke up, the light from Grace's desk lamp permitted a dim shine to the room. Don groaned, his shoulders aching from the position he'd fallen asleep in. It was the first time he had even contemplated resting in over forty eight hours. Knowing that Grace was alive had given him a sense of relief that had drowned out all the anxiety and stress he had been feeling over the past few days.

"Welcome back." Grace's familiar voice chided.

Don rubbed at his gritty, tired eyes with the palms of his hands before he pulled his hands away to look at his lover. Grace was sitting up in bed, her hand resting on the wound through the sheets as she grimaced in discomfort. It took her a moment for her to settle before she turned a small weary smile upon him.

"Hi." she murmured.

"It's nice to see sleeping beauty's back in the land of the living." Don commented, his mouth curving into a grin as he took in her exhausted, dishevelled appearance.

"It's nice to be back. I'm told those forty eight hours were no walk in the park for you either." Grace said softly.

"You know." Don said, his fingers curling around hers. "Your the only person that would worry about the fall out after they've taken a 50 calibre bullet to the gut."

"I'm worried about you." she blurted out abruptly.

"You don't need to do that." Don told her, closing her fist and kissing the back of her hand.

"The look in your eyes says otherwise." she pointed out, her own grey gaze studying his handsome features intently.

"Nah, that's just exhaustion." Don protested, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand.

"Don't lie to me Don." Grace warned him. "The morphine's not screwing with my brain that badly."

"Grace, will you give me a break. You almost died. I was worried sick about you. You think it's easy for me being in this position?" Don snapped, feeling all the pressure of the day beginning to weigh down on his shoulders all over again.

"I don't think it's easy for anyone to be in this position." she said quietly.

Don raised his eyes skyward, praying for strength. He could tell he was hurting her by being like this but he couldn't stop himself. He had been through too much over the past few days to be able to deal with any more. It was all too much to carry on his own but to share the burden with Grace was cruel and he couldn't force himself to do that.

Despite the fact he had deserved it, Kade's death was weighting heavily on him. Before Grace, killing Kade like that would never have been an option. He was a man that lived in a world of black and white, there had been no shades of grey for him.

Now the lines were blurring and he was living in a perpetual grey area. He had something to protect and the responsibility of that was pressing down upon him like never before. He owed this woman everything he could give her and even though regret twisted him up deep inside for the crime that he had committed today, just seeing her smile even if it didn't quite meet her eyes was penitence enough for him.

"I was scared." he told her truthfully, his tone lowering an octave as he spoke. "I'm still scared. That's what your seeing right now."

"I'm right here." she said with a tenderness that reassured every single doubt he harboured in his heart.

Don used his fingertip to trace the veins that ran along the back of her hand as he took what felt like his very first breath since this whole ordeal has started.

"You had me worried for a while there doll." he admitted, bringing her hand to his mouth.

His lips kissed the plaster that covered the spot where the nurses had withdrawn the needle for the IV.

There were so many things the two of them had to talk about, the ring that was glistening on her finger was only one of them. Already Grace could feel that familiar feeling of exertion setting in. it was a feeling she was swiftly becoming used to. It would be like this for another few days the doctors said until her body got used to the trauma of sustaining a gun shot wound and the loss of an internal organ.

"Am I boring you?" Don teased with a knowing smile as Grace's eyelids began to close on their own accord.

"I'm sorry Don, I am just so tired." she apologized, her voice drifting to that far away place.

Don's expression softened as he reached out with nimble fingers, combing them through her silky dark hair.

"Its ok." he whispered to Grace's sleeping form. "I'm still here."

Chapter 23

Summary:

Don starts making mistakes.

Chapter Text

The bar was crowded with people that Don didn't know and had no inclination of getting to. It was a cop bar, out of place with his usual haunts which was just the way he liked it. There was no one he knew here to see how far Don Flack Jnr was falling and that's what he had counted on.

It had been a month since Grace had been shot and the events still tore a hole through his chest when he thought about them hence why he had begun to spend more time here at this anonymous bar.

It had started with a couple of drinks to steady his nerves after the Kade case before he'd dropped by the hospital that night and then it became a shot of bourbon or two to take the edge off the dreams he was having, the nights he was sending alone and awake thinking of what could have happened and of what he had done.

He shouldn't blame Grace for giving back the ring, in fact he was relieved that she had told him that the two of them weren't ready yet. He hadn't appreciated her choice words about his reckless attitude as of late. They hadn't spoken since he'd lost his temper and told her to go to hell.

He couldn't bring himself to try and connect with her again, the hurt was too raw, the fear was too great. He had lost a piece of himself when she had been shot. The piece that had the ability to reach out and love somebody else. He was cutting himself off gradually, he could feel it happening and it was impossible to stop. Killing Kade had damaged a part of himself he hadn't realized was vulnerable and now it was infected with a darkness he had always managed to avoid in the past through sheer force of will.

Flack wasn't in control any more and that frightened him, he was always a man with a firm grip of himself. Every action was calculated and responsive to the situations he faced day in and day out. He had already lashed out at the person he loved and with such dire consequences. The words he had said made him feel nauseous when he thought about them and the expression on her face as she pressed her hand to her stomach had torn a hole in his heart so deep he'd been bleeding out into his Jack Daniel's until he'd hit oblivion.

The drinking helped. It filled him up with such a numbness that he didn't care about any of the pressure that was bearing down upon his shoulders. He didn't give a shit that he'd killed Kade, or acknowledge the fact everyday that he let pass by without checking in on Grace was another day that she was slipping away from him. The truth was that taking another life was the worst sin anyone could commit in front of God, and Flack couldn't quite see how God was supposed to forgive him for murdering someone else in cold blood.

Flack had lost count of the tumblers of whiskey he had downed in the past two hours. All he could feel was the blissful warmth of the liquid filling him up deep inside as he chased down his last drink with a bottle of Bud. His brain was so wonderfully vacant, there was nothing he had to think about, no feelings to jam him up. Instead there was just this selfish emptiness and Flack found that he liked it. He didn't have any responsibilities to worry about. It was just him sitting here getting drunk.

There was a blond talking to him, she was perched on the edge of the bar stool next to him. His eyes roved over her delectable body. She was clad in a denim mini skirt that showed off long, tanned, shapely legs and red fuck me heels. The toe of her shoe was caressing the curve of his calf through his jeans and climbing suggestively higher.

The bright red blouse hugged her curvaceous frame, the top three buttons were undone giving him a view of her generous expanse of cleavage and a peek of a crimson lace bra. She tossed her head, caramel blond hair spreading down her back as she laughed throatily at the line he was spinning her. Flack didn't know her name. Hell, he didn't want to know her name. His intention involved strictly no talking between them at all once they got out of the bar. She was easy, minimal effort required. He needed that. No strings, no complications, just something to get lost in for the night. She was everything that Grace Sullivan wasn't and he needed her to be the one to make him forget that Grace had ever even existed.

Her ruby, pouting lips were wrapped around the straw of her drink, sucking on it as her doe brown gaze made bedroom eyes at him. She was up for the challenge and that sent a perverse thrill through him. One night, no rules. He could allow himself that, no one else had to know. He was capable of so many bad things and this was the release he craved from all of his trappings.

Her manicured nails scrapped across his thigh through the denim of his jeans as he set the beer bottle back down upon the bar having drained it. She leaned on his knees, her body stretching up along the length of his, so alluringly close as she whispered in his ear all the naughty things she was planning to do to him. Flack's hands came to rest upon her waist rubbing across the thin material as his thumbs caressed the line of lace that belonged to her bra. He wanted to bury himself inside this woman, to lose his inhibitions and let everything go and he told her that in deep husky tones.

Someone's voice cleared beside him at the same time as his bar stool slipped from underneath him, his hand clapped the bar suddenly for balance as he sprang to his feet. His head twisting to face his aggressor, fists clenched and furious.

Detective Jessica Angell stood before him, her hands resting on her hips as she reviewed him with enraged hazel eyes. Her booted foot was still hooked in the lower rung of the stool she had yanked from him. He could practically see her teeth grinding together as she grabbed him roughly by the arm and tore him from the bar, thrusting her badge in the face of the blond when she tried to splutter a protest.

By the time they made it outside Flack already knew that his evening wasn't going to end as pleasantly as he had hoped.


Flack's head was pounding. The pain in his temples was throbbing like he had never felt before as he opened his heavy eyes. The room was blurry at best, he clasped a hand to his forehead before closing them again. His mouth was dry and tasted like cotton wool, his stomach was churning with the remnants of alcohol from last night's shenanigans.

The bitter scent of perfume was in his nose, he inhaled it deeply his hand stretching out for Grace before he grasped empty air. His eyes snapped open as he breathed in the citric flavour a second time and realized that it was not Grace's smoky scent but someone's more potent smell.

The bed he was lying in wasn't his, and it wasn't Grace's either. He didn't recognize the black, white and chrome décor that decorated the surrounding space. Flack used both of his arms to prop himself into a sitting position against the solid oak backboard. The sheets that pooled around his naked hips were a stark shade of white across his skin.

Flack raked his hands through his hair, his heart beating faster in his chest as he reviewed the situation. He didn't remember much from last night, a flash of blond, a few dirty words uttered after a couple of shots of bourbon. He rubbed his hands over his exhausted features feeling sick, and it wasn't just from the hangover.

Something was going horrifically wrong, he could feel his life teetering on the edge starting to spin recklessly out of control. He hadn't been in this situation for a long time. He thought he was past the days of boozing and fucking strangers. All was not right in his world and already it was affecting the areas of his life where there were good things. He was slipping up at the job constantly, despite the fact she never said anything he knew his partner was covering for him on an almost daily basis. His relationship was stuck in suspended animation, the ring was back in his possession and he was trapped in some sort of nightmare where he was unable to actually bring himself to speak to the woman he loved.

Seeing her blood on his hands, had screwed him up more than he had ever anticipated. It threw a lot of questions into the air and he was left asking himself he had it in him to run this distance with her. He loved her, they both knew that but it had fractured him deep inside knowing that she had almost died. It hadn't realised how much losing her would hurt, he never wanted to feel that tremendous grief again which left the two of them floating in a dead zone.

Grace had been sensing the wrongness that was within him and her consistent pushing had made him snap. He was so badly ashamed of the way he had spoken to her but once he had opened his mouth he hadn't been able to stop.

Sitting at home that night, chugging from a bottle of Jack Daniel's he had confronted the truth behind his actions. He wanted to hurt her, he wanted her to feel the way he was feeling and more. He blamed her for what he had done, he knew it was wrong and illogical but everything seemed to come so easily to her. He didn't understand why she wasn't freaking out the same way he was. She had almost died and just the notion of that was driving him crazy.

Flack was surprised when the door to the bedroom swung open, a familiar voice singing songing loudly as she entered.

"Good morning sunshine."

Jessica Angell was standing before him like he had never seen her before. Her long wavy tresses were loose and bedraggled, falling down past her shoulders. A black silk dressing gown was wrapped around her lithe body, a knot tied securely in the centre obscuring his view of everything. Every second he stared at her mutely was another moment he had to process the deep waves of regret that were washing through his body at the prospect before him.

"Please tell me we didn't..." he couldn't bring himself to say the words out loud.

The guilt was already crashing down on him, the damage he was doing was irreparable. He had no memory of his time under the sheets with his partner. He had no idea what to say to her as she held up a mug contain what smelt like coffee.

"We didn't." she replied much to his relief until she added the next few words. "But you almost did."

Her tone said it all. He could hear the agitation in her voice and buried underneath that the concern as she tiptoed over the clothes he had strewn across her carpet and set the mug of coffee down upon the night stand. Angell withdrew back to her position by the door, her eyes lowering to his jeans as she crossed her arms over her chest, a frown spreading across her features.

"Your not naked under there are you?" she asked, narrowing her eyes as she gestured towards the bed sheets.

Flack bit his lower lip before tugging the sheets up higher to hide his scar as Angell glared at him, clearly appalled.

"Your gonna wanna wash these sheets." he muttered, his cheeks flushing red at his own awful behaviour from the previous night.

Angell rolled her eyes up to the heavens and Flack could fee her frustration resonating through the room as he cleared his throat trying to divert her attention elsewhere.

"Your lucky your my partner otherwise I'd be turfing you out of here with my boot in your ass." she snapped.

"Instead I get coffee and an explanation about how I ended up taking the bed last night." He retorted before picking up his coffee cup and sipping from it.

"You took it." Angell informed him disapprovingly. "I come back with fresh sheets for the couch and your already passed flat out on the bed. I tried to wake you but you weren't having it. I'm guessing your strip show came later. Thankfully that was something I didn't get to see although at one point you did offer to show me."

"Jess..." he began, cringing visibly at her mention of his antics. "I am so sorry."

Jess shook her head, holding up a hand to cut him off before he could continue.

"It's not me you need to be apologizing to."she informed him.

Don hung his head in shame as he exhaled deeply. He had nothing to say to that, nothing that wouldn't take some real explaining and he couldn't talk about Grace or Kade right now. He knew the position it would put Angell in if he revealed the details of Kade's death and he wouldn't put the pressure on her like that. It was his cross to bear.

"You wanna tell me what's going on Don?" Angell questioned, studying the profile of her partner's face and receiving nothing in return. "I've been covering for you over the past few weeks but this shit has to stop. I can't have your back twenty four seven."

"I swear the girl was a first." he said, purposely avoiding her question as he scouted out each item of his clothing.

"For your sake it better be." Angell growled, jabbing her finger at him.

"She was, I promise." he dismissed, swinging his legs out of the sheets but managing to keep his abdomen and low regions covered. "Can you let me get dressed now?"

"She better be the last Don, because this is a slippery slope your on." Angell warned him, her hazel eyes filled with fury at his despondent attitude.

"Jess, I am about to pull back these sheets." he told her, tentatively raising the sheets in order to make her move faster.

Angell slammed the bedroom door shut behind her without saying another word.

Chapter 24

Summary:

Grace is in recovery.

Chapter Text

Grace was in the bath when she got the phone call. It had been eight weeks since she'd taken a bullet to the abdomen and had her left kidney removed. According to the doctor she was healing up nicely, she hadn't been allowed to leave the hospital until the skin had started to form over the exposed area for fear of infection. Her flesh was still fragile, she was to be careful making any sudden movements or strenuous activity for fear ripping the wound open.

It still hurt when she made the mistake of slouching or even stretching too much but the pain was bearable for now, and manageable with the painkillers the hospital had prescribed. There would forever be a ragged scar highlighting her pale skin but Grace didn't mind that. She was used to scars, on herself and on other people all that mattered to Grace was the fact that she had survived the event.

However nights were a problem. Often she would jolt awake her body still vibrating from the violation of the bullet as she lay there in the pitch black, her heart hammering in her chest as she struggled to take long deep breaths. She had dealt with nightmares before, they were nothing new to her.

After Will she had learned to embrace them, it was her unconscious minds way of processing the trauma that had assaulted her body. Knowing that didn't make her dreams any less terrifying, she only wished that Don was by her side to smooth away the hair from her forehead and kiss her mouth until she was lulled back to sleep again.

Over the past six weeks the two of them had barely exchanged more than a few words. The phone calls between them were strained and their texts short. Every time Grace suggested the two of them doing something together, he was quick to brush her off with the illusion of work. To make things worse when she had turned up at the Precinct in a bid to catch him for a coffee he was nearly always out in the field according to Jess.

If this had been any other guy she would simply have waved goodbye and given up on the relationship but this was Don and something was badly wrong in his world for him to be acting this way. The only problem was she had no idea what the hell she was supposed to do about it.

The fracturing relationship between her and Don hadn't changed anything between her and the people she worked with at the Crime Lab. Every other evening Adam was over watching movies or filling her in on the latest Crime Lab conundrums. The latest involving what the papers were officially naming as 'The Compass Killer.'

Stella was around constantly dropping treats and magazines into her lap whilst Danny turned up with a bag of chips to watch the Mets game whenever he could take the time off. Hawkes was always a phone call away asking her about her wound and recommending ways to stay active despite the disability because he knew the fact she wasn't at full capacity was driving her crazy.

Despite the flurry of activity that she was constantly engaged in, she did notice Don's absence and of course whenever she asked one of their friends about it she got the same pained expression on all of their faces. They were hiding things from her she was certain of that she just couldn't bring herself to push them. The truth was Grace wasn't sure she was ready to hear what he was doing instead of spending the time with her.

The problem was Grace had no real clue what had caused Don to spiral out of control. True, she had given him back his engagement ring but that wasn't the real root of his problems no matter how much he tried to dress it up like it was.

There had been something different lurking inside him from the moment she had woken up and found him at her bedside. The moment she looked into his eyes she had seen it and the fact was he knew it too. He was keeping her at arm's length to keep his secret hidden, so he wouldn't burden her and she couldn't get through to him. Lord knew she had tried over the past few weeks but he was stubborn and distant.

Her cellphone was ringing, Grace could hear the tone of Limp Bizkit's Behind Blue Eyes singing from it's place upon the towels she'd placed it on. It was a force of habit since before the shooting, whenever she was on call the phone was never far from her side. She sighed out loud at the sound of Don's ring tone, her dry hand already groping for the phone.

"Hello?" she greeted, unable to hide the weariness in her voice.

Whenever he rang it usually ended up with one of them hanging up on the other. She wondered why she even bothered to answer instead of letting it go to voice mail. She wasn't ready to deal with him this morning.

"Terrence Davis," a strangely familiar voice chided in her ears. "Look I got your boy here and he's in bad shape."

Terrence Davies...

It had been a long time since she'd heard that voice, even longer since she'd been face to face with the guy. Grace closed her eyes as she prayed for strength as she spoke.

"Terrence it's Grace Sullivan." she submitted with a sigh. "How bad is it?"

"I was hoping it was you when I was thumbing through your boy's phone book. He's passed out on my sofa, he took a pretty bad beat down, almost got himself killed by a couple of thugs on the subway before I dragged him to my place. He's been drinking."

Grace opened her eyes at the news, the thoughts flickering through her brain as she rubbed her temples with her free hand.

"You got an address?" she asked already pulling herself out of the tub. "I need you to text it to me as soon as you hang up."

Grace snapped her phone shut before stepping out of the bath, she couldn't help but think that maybe fate had decided to intervene in their lives yet again.

Chapter 25

Summary:

Grace finally finds out why Don is spiraling.

Chapter Text

North Brooklyn was far from Grace's favourite place in the world. She had hated this area of the city with a passion ever since she had worked this beat during her days in a uniform. The neighbourhood was full of hoodlums and gang bangers, the regular people that were left were forced to inhabit the apartment complexes filled with criminals. It was such a God damn shame, with a good community leader this place would have turned itself around but no one was willing to step up and take the reigns for fear of the local crime syndicates.

Terrence Davies lived in the more upmarket district of North Brooklyn. His apartment building seemed to be one of the nicer ones, and true to his word he had left the fire escape at the back of the building barely wedged open for her to squeeze through. It was dangerous for her to be in this area, she'd busted more than her fair share of the local clientèle and lot of them had a long memory. It would mean certain death for both her and Terrence if he was caught helping out the cops.

Grace buried her hands even deeper inside the worn out, grey zip up hoodie she was wearing. The hood was pulled up to cover her face and hair. There were enough junkies in this neighbourhood for her to blend in with them. She withdrew one hand as she reached apartment door and rapped twice.

It took a few minutes for Terrence to answer. When he did she was ushered swiftly into the apartment with the wave of a hand. It wasn't until he had closed and bolted the door behind her that Grace withdrew the hood from her pretty features revealing her short, choppy, dark hair.

"Officer Sullivan, long time no see. I wasn't sure it was the same person until you answered the phone." Terrence greeted, crossing his arms over his chest as he took in her appearance.

"You cleaned up real good Terence yourself." Grace said returning the gesture.

She was telling the truth. The last time she'd seen Terrence he had been snorting whatever drug was doing the rounds in his club. They had shared more than a few busts between them. Her eyes strayed around the room taking in the carefully selected furnishings of this bachelor pad. Her gaze landed on a familiar pistol resting on the coffee table, alongside it the phone that Terrence had called her from. It appeared Don was still here at least.

"I hear you have something that belongs to me." Grace uttered, getting straight to the point.

The sound of violent retching proceeded her words coming from the direction of the bathroom. Grace grimaced at Terrence before casting a glance towards the half open door.

"He's all yours." Terrence smirked.

Grace pushed the bathroom door open with the palm of her hand as Don flushed the toilet. She leaned on the frame she watching as Don rose to his feet unsteadily, rubbing both of his hands over his features before turning around to face her. They regarded each other like strangers when his startling blue eyes came to rest upon her.

Grace was cataloguing the differences since their last meeting. She could smell the booze on him from here. His dark hair was unkempt and his face unshaven. There was blood leaking from a fresh gash on his forehead, dripping all the way down his shabby features. His eyes fixated on her as if he was seeing at her for the first time.

"Grace." he said her name with a sneer.

"So you're getting into fights now?" she asked him as his hand came to clasp the right side of his body, wincing at his own sudden movement.

Don opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by the sudden abrupt banging on the door of the apartment.

"T, Open up, I know your in there son." someone called through, their tone hoarse with aggression.

It was the expression on Terrence's face that set Grace on edge, she had only seen it once before and that had ended up in the two of them nearly getting gunned down in a drive by because a rival dealer had thought Terrence was snitching to the cops.

Grace knew the implications of being found here, if someone recognized her all three of them were screwed and as far as she was aware she was the only one packing right now. Drawing attention to this situation would cost them all bunch of complications that none of them needed if they managed to survive a confrontation.

"Just stay in there and be quiet." Terrence said urgently, closing the door quickly.

Grace leaned against the sink, pressing a hand to her forehead as she closed her eyes for a brief moment trying to get some clarity on the situation. She opened her eyes to find herself staring into Don's vivid blue ones as his hands came to rest on either side of her body trapping her in place.

Their bodies were barely touching, she could hear the rustle of their clothing as he leaned in just that tiny bit closer. The sensation of being his near to him made her entire body tingle as the tension between them mounted. How many times had she imagined being with him again in the past few weeks?

The answer was too many. His absence from her life had left a mark she wasn't sure would disappear but having him back even if he was in this state was alluring. She would happily lay down her life for this man. She didn't know if that made her a glutton for punishment or simply desperate.

"I've been thinking about you Gracie." he whispered, his voice husky as his blue eyes bored into hers. "Thinking about every single naughty thing we did together."

"Don, now is really not the time for this." she told him firmly.

Her ears strained, listening as Terrence's apartment door opened and the sound of two people's footsteps entered. The voices were loud, jovial she thought with a mixture of relief and trepidation.

"I know you want me, I can tell." Don murmured, his lips trailing lightly up the exposed curve of her throat making her shiver with anticipation despite their precarious situation. "I want you so god damn badly."

His large, warm hands were already climbing up the outline of her body making her arch towards him. His nimble fingers tugged down the zipper of her hoodie, exposing the thin, cyan coloured camisole she was wearing underneath. His teeth grazed the tender area just beneath her jaw as his lower body pressed snugly against hers. She gasped out loud as he rocked his hips lightly so she could feel his erection through their jeans.

"Let me fuck you." he breathed into her ear, his hands slipping down to cup her ass as he thrust into her generating even more friction between their most intimate areas.

"You need to stop." she protested half heartedly.

His fingers were threaded in her hair, using it to tug her head backwards in a dominant manner exposing more of her throat to his persistent lips. She could hear the raising of voices in the other room, the exchange was getting heated. This was going to turn out very badly if she didn't put an end to this.

"Don stop." she demanded, placing both hands on his chest and shoving him away from her.

Don stumbled backwards, his hand lashed out grasping hold of the shower curtain and yanking it backwards causing an almighty clatter as the metal rungs rattled together. He came to a seat upon the closed toilet bowl staring at Grace in shock.

"You got someone in there son?" The sound of those words made her hackles raise as the tone of the conversation in the other room changed into something more hostile.

Grace stripped off her hoodie in seconds and tossed it at Don who stared at it in confusion as he caught it between both hands. She pulling her camisole down a little revealing even more cleavage and to cover the police badge that was clipped to her waist. She reached out, palm smacking the button for the shower allowing a jet of water to burst out from the head.

"Stay there." she ordered, jabbing her finger at him for empathy.

Grace took a deep breath to steady her nerves as her hand enclosed on the door handle. There was a lot of arguing going on out there and she knew there was a distinct possibility she could end up looking down the wrong end of a gun all over again. It took every single ounce of effort for her to conjure up the flirtatious smile she managed to paste upon her features before she pulled open the bathroom door.

She clocked the complete expression of surprise on Terrence's face before his blank mask slid into place. The shorter of the two thugs, the one who was clearly in charge and doing all the yelling, crossed his arms over his chest with a broad smile spreading across his features.

"Terrence honey..." she drawled out his name like a lover, her lips forming a sensual, sexy pout as she looked at him pointedly. "I thought you said you were gonna come join me."

"I'll be there in a second baby, warm yourself up for me." Terrence responded in a hushed tone, biting his lower lip in anticipation as Grace let a suggestive hand run up her inner thigh.

"Don't make me wait too long." Grace returned in a breathy voice full of implications as her eyebrows arched suggestively.

She turned on her heel and retreated into the bathroom and closing the door behind her before sagging against it in relief. She could hear the shorter one teasing Terrence about that 'tapping that hot piece of ass.' Grace rolled her eyes as her heart rate began to slow down, taking long deep breaths. It could have been worse but it wasn't, she reassured herself.

Don threw the hoodie back to her, giving her a second to pull it back over her shoulders and zip up over the front. Somewhere in between her exit and entrance he seemed to have grasped the severity of the situation. She hoped to God that he was sobering up right now because she didn't know how much more of drunk Don's antics she could take.

The wound in her abdomen was starting to hurt, between the arching and the shoving she had exerted her self a little too much. Realistically she shouldn't have even engaged Don in anything vaguely sexual but the man did things to her that she found it extremely hard to resist. Apparently this was karma coming back to bite her in the ass for enjoying the moment they had had a little too much.

The bathroom door was yanked open, leaving Grace's heart rampaging in her chest once more before she realized that it was Terrence standing there alone in the living room.

"They're gone." he told her before handing Grace a clean damp wash cloth."That was some nice thinking back there."

"I need a favour." Grace said, reading the irate expression on Terrence's face before holding out her cellphone. "It's the last one I promise."

"Call Mac Taylor, they'll be looking for Don, tell him to get down here. There's not a hell I can get him outta here on my own like this." she told Terrence as he took it from her hands.

"You know I'm only doing this because you saved my ass when that car came at us. After this we're square." Terrence informed her.

"After everything you've done today..." Grace trailed off, struggling to express how grateful she really was his actions.

"Just tend to your boy while I get your friend on the horn." Terrence said, ducking his head so she couldn't read the expression on his features.

"Thank you." Grace whispered.

Don was hunched over as he perched on the edge of the bathtub. During her conversation with Terrence, he had turned off the shower. His hands were resting on his knees as he watched her move towards him in silence, his fringe falling across his vibrant blue eyes. She couldn't get over how child-like he looked right now, she'd never see him look so defeated, so lost.

Grace sighed as she cupped his face between her hands to tilt it up so she could get a better look at the gash etched into his skin. His eyes were endless pools of sadness, she knew he wasn't seeing her right now, he was reliving something she had no part of. She used the wash cloth to gently smooth away the blood from his cheek before speaking.

"You wanna tell me what all this is about?" Grace asked quietly, her fingers brushing back his hair so she could clean the cut at the edge of his hair line.

"You got shot." he reminded her sullenly as she dabbed the wash cloth on it lightly.

"Yea." Grace muttered, trying to not to vent all of her pent up agitation. "And I'm still healing when you decide to pull all this crazy shit."

"I'm not pulling anything." he snapped, jerking his head away from her grasp. "You gave me back the ring, you walked out on me."

"I didn't walk anywhere." Grace retorted as the frustration burned up inside her. "You lost your temper and stormed out and we've been playing phone tag ever since. Everything that has happened has been your choice. I've been trying to give you space Don but there's something not right with you and I wanna know what it is."

"What's up Grace?" Don snarled, his lip curling in disdain as he tapped at his temple. "You don't have the power to get in my head any more? You can't see what's going on inside? I'm glad because I don't have to sit there and watch you judge me the way you do. You think I don't see it every time you look at me, you self righteous bitch?"

"That is it!" Grace shouted, throwing the bloody wash cloth at his chest. "I am done with this."

Her fist was clenched as she left the room fighting the urge to slap him. Her jaw was aching from the fact she was struggling to reign in her temper. She wanted to tear him a new one, she wanted to scream out loud in exasperation, to shake him until he snapped out of the state he was in. Don's footsteps echoed behind her and she could feel every single muscle in her body tense as she whirled around to face him.

"What did I hurt your feelings? Did you get sensitive all of a sudden Grace?" Don scorned, his gaze came to linger on something over her shoulder as he trailed off, the malicious grin draining his features.

Grace inclined her head towards Mac Taylor as he stood there in the archway of Terrence's apartment. His mouth set in a grim line, his eyebrows furrowed into a severe frown as his eyes narrowed at the younger man.

"You need to talk some sense into him because I swear to God I am gonna take a swing if he carries on speaking to me like that." Grace spat, jabbing her finger in Don's direction.

"I'm not holding a cop convention up in here but I think the three of you need some time to talk so I'm gonna give y'all five minutes." Terrence said, folding his arms over his chest as he took in the three of them.

"Do you mind if I..." Grace gestured towards his open plan kitchen area, her face flushed with colour as she swallowed hard.

The pain was back and it was worse this time, she knew she hadn't done herself any favours by getting angry like that. The sudden motion of her actions must have wretched at the fragile skin holding her together. She prayed it was a just a strain.

"Help yourself." Terrence told her before noticing her change in demeanour. "Your not looking so good."

"I'm fine." she dismissed, stepping towards the kitchen, instantly regretting the fact she had left her painkillers back in her own apartment.

Don swayed unsteady on his feet for a second before sitting himself down in Terrence's easy chair as the other man walked out of the door. Grace lingered in the kitchen, taking a glass of the draining board and pouring herself a glass of water from the sink. Mac sat down across from Don, elbows resting on his knees as he studied the other man intently.

"What so you wanna hear Mac? It's just one of those days." Don said, his tone abrasive.

"You can do better than that." Mac scowled.

Don's leg was tapping up and down in turmoil. He didn't want to be here, Grace knew that, but tough it was time for him to suck it up and be a man instead of shoving everybody way with this ridiculous destructive behaviour.

"Fine, it won't happen again." Don said with a shrug of his shoulders.

Grace trained her eyes on the back of his head frightened by his nonchalant attitude. There was no conviction in his voice, no resolution. He was just saying the words he knew people expected to hear and he had gotten away with it until now. Grace could see the amount of fury growing inside Mac's body. The other man had a fantastic poker face but even he couldn't hide the disgust on his features at Don's responses.

"Your damn right, I'm making it official." Mac growled the other man.

"Do what you gotta do." Don stated in the same uncaring tone as before, raising to his feet.

Mac was on his feet in an instant, his hand in the centre of the other man's chest stopping his progression. Grace watched in morbid fascination as the situation began to escalate. Her stomach was churning with fear at the potential violence she was sensing and the resonating stabbing in her abdomen.

"Let's be clear, part of me wants to take this badge off an settle this another way." Mac seetheded the younger man as they stood toe to toe.

"Get out of my face!" Don snarled, making to take a step past Mac.

Mac had hold of him so fast Grace didn't even know what had happened. Don's back hit the pillar in the middle of Terrence's apartment as Mac jammed is forearm across his throat, restrained him. Something warm was spreading across her stomach, Grace looked down as she dabbed her fingers to it. There was blood on her fingertips. There were tiny droplets of it spreading across the front of her hoodie.

"We're right in the middle of a murder investigation and you go AWOL."

The rage in Mac's voice matched the brimming fury in his eyes.

"I can handle myself." Don sneered at the other man.

"Is that what your doing here? Is that why I had to have Danny check the ER's to see if you turned up dead. Is that why you dragged Grace down here when she should be at home resting? Look at her..." Don's gaze unwillingly shifted to Grace as she turned her face away from him. "She's sick Don and you should be taking care of her."

It was as if he was seeing her for the first time since she had entered this apartment and he felt the guilt surge through his veins at what he saw there. Her skin was pale and clammy, she was grinding her teeth, grimacing against the pain that was clearly throbbing from her wound. He could see the tell tale splotches of blood already appearing on the front of her hoodie as she tried to cover it with her arm. He was horrified at himself and his actions, that he had been the cause of this disaster.

His eyes strayed back to Mac as the older man's words filtered through to his brain. This man cared about him like a son and he was doing everything he could to yank Don out of the decrepit pit that he had thrown himself into. He was on that tightrope again and he was losing so much. His career was on the line, the woman he loved, his future. He wanted so badly to talk to someone, to rely on them again.

He felt something shifting deep inside, feelings changing and developing into words as he dropped back down into the easy chair, raking his hands through his hair. He could see all the damage he had caused and all the problems he was still causing. Mac ran his hand over his face before turning upon Don again sensing the younger man's compliance.

"You can keep telling people that your fine but that won't work." Mac told him.

Don was staring up at him now, his face open and honest with the emotions he'd been holding back. Of all the ones that Grace saw cloud his handsome features it was hopelessness that she recognized the best. He opened his mouth and hesitated. They both waited patiently before he decided to try again.

"It's been eating at me, when she got shot..." he tensed his jaw at the memory, his fists tightening. "All I wanted to do was make it right."

"We did that" Mac reminded him coldly. "Justice was served because we did our jobs. Grace is still here, she's still alive."

"You weren't there with me and Simon Kade. I stood over that bastard, I looked him in the eyes and I..." Don clamped a hand over his mouth unable to say the words as the images flashed behind his eyes like a video.

And suddenly Grace knew. She understood what had been going on over the past couple of months, what Don had been wrestling with and part of her heart broke for him. This terrible secret he had kept to himself was tearing him up inside and he couldn't deal with it. He had crossed the line and it scared him because it showed he wasn't immune at all.

"Whatever happened is between you and your God." Mac cut him off. "I'm not your priest."

There was a clear warning in those words and in his voice and Grace hoped that Don was picking that up. If he told Mac, he would be obliged to do something about it. He was a man bound by honour and she knew that it would kill him as much as it would kill her to see Don locked up for becoming the very thing that he hated.

"What I need to know is if we can count on you." Mac said leaving Don in a contemplative silence before glancing over at Grace. "You gonna be alright getting him home?"

"Yea." she responded with a watery smile, hugging herself around the waist tightly as he rose to his feet.

The pain was subsiding a little, she could breath through it. She had been warned by the doctors and Sheldon about becoming over active. The skin that covered the wound was frail, it was a large surface area to heal over and Grace knew without a doubt she had just ripped part of the fragile flesh open with her hasty movements. Hiding it from Mac was easy, he was preoccupied with Don and the case regarding the 'Compass Killer' that he had had to walk away from. Taking Don home was the least she could do to alleviate a worry off of his mind.

"I'll call you later." Mac promised, squeezing her shoulder in reassurance.

"I would appreciate that." she murmured as he left quietly through the apartment door leaving Grace and Don to follow a few minutes later in complete silence.

Chapter 26

Summary:

Mac and Don talk.

Chapter Text

Mac's office had never been as intimidating to Flack as it was now. It had taken every single ounce of his courage to enter the crime lab today and face the people that he worked with. They knew nothing about the events of yesterday but they had watched his descent over the past month and he had ignored their proclamations of concern.

He could see their surprise as he strode down the glass corridors today and Flack understood their apprehension. They were used to seeing him dishevelled and unshaven, coming apart at the seams. Now he was humbled, a reminiscence of his old self. He wasn't anywhere near the whole, secure, person he used to be but he wasn't the same ghostly presence that had been haunting the crime lab or the precinct recently.

Mac was in his office when Flack rapped his knuckles upon the glass door. He gestured for the younger man to enter with the wave of his hand before steadily taking in the other man's appearance as he did.

The clothes he was wearing were freshly laundered and clean. He had compiled a brown jacket over the charcoal grey button up shirt. It returned some of the resemblance to the smartly dressed man Mac was used to seeing at crime scenes. He had shaved at some point during the past twelve hours and it looked like he'd gotten a hair cut too. This was the young man he was used to seeing or at least some part of him.

"Hey Mac." Flack greeted, closing the door behind him.

"I got your message." Mac said, shuffling the stack of reports between his hands. "You wanted to talk?"

Flack bowed his head, interlacing his fingers together in front of him to keep his hands steady. He was a proud man, apologising didn't come easy to him. Mac had done him a solid by wading in to smack some sense into him yesterday. Tough love was exactly what he had needed to understand the mess he had been turning into. The Don Flack of yesterday could barely bring himself to care about anything, today he was feeling everything all too well.

This was the first step to making amends for the position he had forced Mac into and he hoped that the man that he regarded as something of a father figure would find it in his heart to forgive him.

"Actually I wanna apologise." Flack said, raising his gaze to meet Mac's.

Flack recognized the look on Mac's face, in a city where time is money the other man's patience didn't do well to be stretched. Flack didn't want to drag it out any longer than necessary himself. There was still a whole host of grovelling he had to do. He was saving the worst until last.

"This last month, I've been..." Flack searched inside himself for the words he was trying to say. "I've been pretty messed up. You've shown me a hell of a lot of patience and support and you didn't have to."

It hurt to admit that, even thought he knew it was the truth. When he thought about his own deviant behaviour he was both shamed and appalled by his actions, or at least what he remembered of them.

Mac lowered his eyes as he took in Flack's words. He knew what it cost the younger man to admit the depths of his emotions to him, yet Mac was also very weary about what he was about to hear. He didn't want Flack to implicate himself in anyway. Mac hoped that Flack understood that. He couldn't face locking the other man up if anything about his involvement in Simon Kade's death came to life. He suspected as much but without a confession there was no reason to look any deeper into the incident. Flack had been a good guy, maddened with grief and trapped in a terrible position.

Flack rubbed his large hands together as he spoke. It was rare for Mac to see Flack so anxious. He could tell this was hard on him. To be forced to look at his behaviour over the past few weeks had been harrowing for the younger man, but it had been the shock he needed to snap him out of it.

"So thank you." Flack said sincerely as he stared into Mac's eyes, enforcing the extent of his gratitude. "And I'm sorry."

"Everybody handles trauma differently Don." Mac began. "I know a lot of your behaviours had to do with Grace getting shot."

Flack was transported back to eight weeks ago, for a second he was back in the diner. Seeing Grace on the floor like that, the images were flicking though his mind as he relived one of the most horrific moments of his life.

Grace whimpered in agony, her head tipping back as he lifted her as gently as he could.

"I've got you Grace, I've got you." he murmured, drawing her body close to his chest.

Her life was slipping away underneath his hands, he could feel it draining out of her with every step he took, in all the seconds that they waited. Her body was limp as he carried her outside towards the waiting squad car.

Mac set the stack of files down back down on his desk. The noise jerked Flack's attention back to the present as Mac struggled to find away to confront the main issue surrounding all of Flack's behaviours as delicately as he could.

"But there's also been something else. I don't need to hear about it." Mac said, putting his hand up to silence Flack before he could breathe a word of the event. "I just need to know that you've dealt with it and it's done."

Mac could see the sorrow in the Flack's features as he studied him. He had made a lot of mistakes in the past few weeks, hopefully ones that he could rectify. A lot of people cared about Flack because he was a good person, he, amongst others had been throwing themselves down on their swords for the younger man in order to protect him and Mac needed to know if the crisis had passed. He had spent the past month punishing himself for the atrocity he had committed, he couldn't allow it to go on any longer.

"I crossed the line." Flack said softly, shaking his head. "And I'll live with that but it will never happen again."

There was conviction in his words and resolution in his eyes as he spoke. This was the most alive Mac had seen Flack in weeks. His faith was back, he believed in his own words and that was exactly what Mac had been waiting for, the moment that Flack had decided that it was time to start living again instead of wallowing in a pool full of regret.

"What's most important to me now is that I re-earn your trust." Flack told him honestly.

Mac smiled grimly as he held out his hand in the universal sign for friendship. Flack took it, his hand squeezing with the same firm pressure as Mac as he shook it appreciatively.

"You've got a good woman standing beside you Don." Mac reminded him, releasing his hand. "And you've been putting her through her paces recently."

"I know." Flack said, grimacing. "And I need to find some way to make it up to her."

"My recommendation?" Mac offered, eyes fixing on Flack. "Just be there. Grace acts tough but she's vulnerable. Dealing with everything that's happened recently has been taking it's toll on her."

Flack remembered the drained look in Grace's grey eyes last night when she had dropped him off at his apartment building. In all the years that they had known each other he had never seen her look so distressed. He hadn't had enough energy left to try and mend the rift between them. Instead he had walked away and left her with barely a mutter of goodbye. He needed to pull himself together before he could fix the damage he had caused to their relationship and he hoped with all of his heart that she would know him enough to understand his actions.

"Yea Mac, I know." Flack complied, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. "This isn't the type of thing a bunch of flowers is gonna fix."

"Start small, take her out for dinner." Mac suggested, before changing his mind . "Or in her current condition maybe it'll be better to take dinner to her."


The bullpen was busy. It was full of a mixture of detectives, suspects and witnesses all ambling through. The chatter was loud and enveloped him as soon as he stepped inside. Flack discovered he had missed this, being a part of something larger, of a community. His startling blue eyes were already searching over the desks for the Detective he was looking for. He wasn't on shift today but he knew this was one apology that couldn't wait. Angell had covered for him enough recently.

Flack spied the woman in question bowed over her desk. She was scribbling on an A4 note pad, her curly dark hair was pulled back into a long pony tail. Flack came to a halt in front of her desk. Angell tilted her head up to look at him, reviewing his change in clothes and tidy appearance with an air of relief.

"So I've been an ass lately and this is my way of apologising." Flack stated, setting down the Starbucks take out cup of espresso on the top of her desk, beside it he placed a still warm bag from the nearby bakery. "And to thank you for everything in and out of work. The best canollis in New York."

Angell leaned back in her seat, a knowing smile crossing her lips as she examined the man in front of her. He was looking good today for a change. His pallor was healthier than she had seen in weeks, he was sober and she didn't get the faintest whiff of whisky from him which was an improvement.

"Who are you and what have you done with the real Detective Flack?" Angell teased, wrapping her hands around the coffee cup as she accepted it.

"You like the boozing and crazy one a lot better? Because I get him back if you want." Flack said humorously, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.

"God no." Angell said, pulling a face as she shuddered. "Grace may appreciate you running around her apartment nude but I do not."

"I would appreciate if the two of us forget that that even happened." Flack said, gesturing between the two of them as he cringed at the memory.

Angell used a zipping motion over her lips to indicate her silence over the matter before changing the subject.

"So your back?" Angell questioned, her tone serious as she studied him.

Flack broke into reassuring smile as his partner opened up the bag of canollis.

"I'm back."

Chapter 27

Summary:

Don tries to make up with Grace.

Chapter Text

Of all the apologises Don had to make today this one was by far the hardest. He was standing outside Grace's apartment door carrying a bag of Chinese take out. He'd picked up all of her favourite starters from the Peking Duck restaurant, spring rolls, prawn toast, chicken and sweetcorn soup, he'd thrown in her usual main of beef and blackbean sauce along with a slice banoffee pie.

Don knew that this didn't even begin to make up for the past two months but he hoped it was a step in the right direction. Mac's words were still ringing in his head from yesterday.

"You should be taking care of her."

Mac had been right, the job wasn't the only area of responsibility he had been shirking recently. Grace was capable of taking care of herself and he knew their friends from the crime lab had rallied around her to formulate the support network she needed. Yet he knew the kind of reassurances Grace craved, he knew that in the dead of night she would wake up whimpering and gasping for breath because of the nightmares that dogged her sleep. He should have been there in the past few weeks to hold her in the night, to whisper in her ear and kiss her until she forgot about the dreams.

Don rapped on her door again, bowing his head and listening out for the sound of her footfalls through the wood as she padded towards the door and opened it.

Grace looked tired, in fact she looked exhausted. There were dark circles rimming her grey eyes and she looked lethargic as she stood before him wearing a black vest and his pair of NYPD sweats from his days at the academy. Her eyes widened in surprised as her gaze dropped to the take out bag clasped in his hands.

"It's frightening how good you are." she informed him, holding up the take out menu that was clutched in her left hand as she opened the door fully to let him in.

"They don't call me a Detective for nothing." he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

Don's eyes swept through the apartment as he catalogued the tokens of her life without him. There was a blanket strewn across the couch, he could tell she must have been under it when he'd knocked. There were a stack of DVD's piled on the coffee table, all of them he recognized as ones she watched when she was feeling down. Whip It was playing on the DVD menu on the TV. Grace rose up on tip toes, removing two plates from the cupboard. She was moving stiffly, he could tell her side was hurting her. He couldn't help but feel responsible for that.

Despite the amount of alcohol he had consumed he still retained a memory of the day before. She had been bleeding in the car when she had dropped him off, light splotches but he knew that she had reopened part of the wound. From the sight of the medikit perched on the opposite side of the coffee table he guessed she had patched herself up again too.

"I'll sort this, you go sit down again and I'll bring it over." Don said softly, his hand came to rest on her lower back back lightly, thumb grazing over the bare patch of flesh revealing her tattoo.

Grace slipped out from underneath his touch, gliding past him as she took his advice. He watched her in concern over the breakfast bar as he began to arrange the assortment of Chinese food onto their plates. Grace sat back down on the couch and pulled the blanket around her before hitting play on the DVD player. She was quiet, which was out of character for Grace, then again the way things had been between the two of them lately he couldn't say he blamed her.

Don wasn't good in these situations, he was the one that was used to detaching from people. He was used to holding his hands up and walking away when there was a problem he couldn't fix. He knew when to cut his losses and when to fight and now was one of the times he needed to stand up and be a man. Only Don didn't know the right words to say so he started with the question that had been burning in his mind all day.

"You alright?" Don asked, carrying the plates of food over to the coffee table and setting it down in front of her.

"I am now." Grace said, taking the cutlery from his hand as she met his eyes.

Their fingertips brushed briefly before Grace removed her hand. Don sighed sitting down on the opposite end of the couch sliding his plate onto the coffee table. He wasn't hungry any more.

"What about the war wound?" Don asked, taking in the profile of her features as she poked at her food with her fork.

"Sore, but the painkillers are helping." she confided, her eyes fixating on the T.V.

"You ain't been sleeping." Don said taking the plunge.

Small talk wasn't getting them anywhere it was time to address the situation head on if she didn't give him anything more than the short answers he was getting.

"I don't wanna talk about it." she said with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Grace..." Don began searching inside himself for the right words as he clasped his hands together in front of him. "You deserve an explanation for what's been going on over the past few weeks."

Grace said nothing in response to his words but he could tell he was getting a reaction from the fact she set her plate down on the coffee table. She turned around on the couch to face him as he tilted his face towards her.

"I crossed the line." he told her quietly. "I killed Simon Kade in cold blood because of what he did to you."

"I know." Grace spoke for the first time since they'd broached this subject.

Her small hands came to clasp his between her own. It was the first contact she had initiated since he had gotten here and he felt such relief at that. It gave him the strength to push on and continue with what he was trying to say.

"I lost it, seeing you like that..." Don shook his head. "It isn't an excuse. I keep going over it in my head, he looked so surprised when I did it and I thought you must have known what was coming. When you saw that gun..."

"I knew he was going to shoot me and the damage that bullet was going to do." She finished for him as Don clenched his jaw and nodded sullenly.

"How do you live with that?" he asked her helplessly.

"You can't change what you did." Grace submitted quietly, shaking her head. "But you can't let it rule your life either."

Don bowed his head, looking down at her hands as her thumbs traced the outline of each of his knuckles. There was tenderness in each touch and he felt like the two of them were getting somewhere, that they might be able to move forward.

"I just needed you to know and to tell you that I am truly sorry for everything I've put you through. I don't know how I can make it up to you. How can I ask you to forgive something like that?" Don questioned, pursing his lips together already aware of the answer. "The truth is I can't."

Grace released his hands before they came to settle back on her lap and sighed.

"I just need time Don, what you put me through..." she trailed off, carefully selecting the words. "I need to know that I can rely on you again. Being shot isn't easy, it's traumatic and it's painful. Dealing with this is one of the hardest things I've ever been through and you weren't there. You left me to handle it alone."

"I put you through hell, I get that." Don told her, turning his vibrant blue eyes upon her. "But I'm here now and I want to be there for you. I just need you to give me a chance to prove that I can be the man you need me to be."

"It's not about giving you another chance, it's about taking the one we've got. I could have died that day but I didn't and I can't help but think that God's way of telling me to make the best of what I have." Grace let a tiny smile curve across her face as Don processed her words. "It just takes time to forgive and that's what the two of us need right now. We need to reconnect with each other, to explore each other again. I need to learn how to forgive you and you need to learn to forgive yourself."

Don tipped his head back and raised his eyes heavenward as she spoke.

"Your right." he said, swallowing hard as he absorbed the wisdom in her voice.

It was moments like this that reminded him how well Grace knew him, or rather how well she knew the both of them.


Grace was asleep, her legs spread out along the length of the couch, her feet resting on his lap. His thumb was caressing her ankle underneath the hem of her sweats. The blanket was tucked around her body. Doctor Who was playing on the TV in the background, they'd been watching it before Grace drifted off.

She hadn't been sleeping well in the aftermath of the shooting, that much was clear. Part of that was his fault and he was determined to make that up to her in anyway necessary.

She was still so beautiful, even when she was sleeping. She was his life, his future and he would spend everyday trying to make up for all the hurt he'd caused her over the past two months. He was calm when Grace was around. Just being near her again set all the demons he wrestled with at ease. No matter what he said out loud it had been worth it just to know she could rest easy.

His phone was vibrating, it was dispatch alerting him to another crime scene. It was a call he had to take. If he let it slide any more he was at risk of losing his job. He answered the call quietly, listening as opposed to talking.

He regretted having to leave Grace, he would want nothing more than to stay here all night just watching her sleep but duty called as it always did. This was Grace, she would understand. No words needed to pass between them when it came to the nature of the job.

Don gently removed her feet from his lap and set them back down upon the sofa. It didn't feel right to just go without saying goodbye. He grabbed the notebook she'd left on the table, the top page was already written on in Grace's neat cursive font. It was the beginning of a letter, one that was written to him, one that she had never got to finish.

Don,

I miss you...

That was as far as she had gotten, it was hard for her to write down how she felt. Grace was a verbal and attentive person. She showed her feelings through words and touches, this displayed to him how lonely she must have felt, how irresponsible he had been with his actions. He mourned the nights he should have spent in her bed kissing away the nightmares and soothing away her fears. It was too late to turn back time but it wasn't too late to amends.

Don scribbled his own note on the page underneath before propping it up against the coffee mug he had been drinking from so she could see it.

Forgot how cute you look when you sleep. Duty called. Cheesecake in fridge. Love Don

He smoothed back her silky dark hair away from her face before planting a butterfly kiss upon her forehead. Grace moaned in her sleep, rubbing her cheek into the couch cushion before settling again.

"I love you." he murmured as he looked down at her sleeping form.

Don snatching up his jacket before casting a last lingering glance at Grace before exiting through the door.

Chapter 28

Summary:

Grace confronts Don about his mishap during her recovery.

Chapter Text

The beach was beautiful at this time of day. It was coming into the evening and the two of them were sitting upon a blanket laid out upon the sand as they looked out to sea. The waves were crashing against the shore and Grace found that she enjoyed the sound profusely. Don was sitting beside her wearing his black aviator shades with a yellow T-shirt and dark jeans, Grace was clad a black wife-beater and denim shorts due to the warm climate, her long toned legs stretched out in front of her.

"I forgot how much I love the beach." Grace said, tilting her head back so the sun reflected off her Jackie-O style sunglasses as she leaned on her hands.

"We used to come here all the time as kids." Don told her, his elbows resting on his knees. "My dad used to bring me and Sam down here and teach us how to make these giant sandcastles."

"You seen Sam lately?" Grace asked, lifting up her sunglasses so they held the hair back away from her face.

"She was at my parent's place on Sunday, she looks good. The job in the hotel seems to be working out for her." Don said with his boyish smile.

Grace knew the effects that smile had on other women, every time she saw it herself it lit up her entire world. That was the reason she was finding it so hard to look at him right now, to mention what her friend Eva had seen him doing back in the bar a few months ago.

Things had been so good between the two of them over the past few weeks, Don had been intuitive to her needs predicting them before she even knew what her desires were. He was patient and conscientious. They'd shared a few dates and he had been caring and attentive, he hadn't rushed her back into bed and she appreciated that.

"She's been sober almost two years right?" Grace responded, staring at the ravaging sea.

"Yea." Don said, rubbing his hands together. "They're having a dinner thing next week in the city to celebrate. Your invited."

"Where are they thinking so I can figure out whether to dress smart or casual?" Grace questioned feeling the burden of this situation already weighting on her chest.

She liked Don's family, they made her feel like she was one of them. No matter what happened they were happy to see her with or without Don. She had been Sam's sounding board for a while after she attended the AA meetings. Grace's brother Jared, had struggled with his own dabbles in drink and drugs in the past. She had been there as he had taken each of the steps, she knew how hard it was to live through that. She was glad the other woman had kept herself out of trouble.

"Dino's," Don answered knowingly. "My dad's wearing a suit, which means mom and Sam are gonna be wearing dresses."

The Flack Family always went to Dino's to celebrate their special occasions. It was classy and elegant and catered a wonderful Italian meal.

"I shall follow their lead then, get something new for the occasion." Grace said distractedly, playing with the beaded bracelet on her wrist that Adam had given her.

"Something new?" Don said, turning his head towards her and taking in the profile of her face as she focused on the bracelet. "I was thinking that sexy little blue number you know I like."

"That is sleepwear." Grace pointed out.

"Doll whenever you wear that thing, the two of us do anything but sleep." Don reminded her, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"Smooth." Grace said, rolling her eyes in response to his words.

"Hey, I'm busting out my best game here." Don said, nudging her shoulder with his.

"If that's the best you've got, you mustn't be doing so well with the ladies." Grace remarked, rubbing her hands over her pained features as she could sense things coming to ahead.

If there was ever a time to address the issues playing on her mind it was now before things got too far between them. If there was ever a time to walk away it would be now.

"Nah, I think I'm doing ok." Don said, frowning at the discontentment that was stirring up on her pretty features.

"Yea so I heard." Grace said shortly, twanging her bracelet against her wrist.

"What exactly did you hear?" Don asked out right, holding his breath already dreading the idea that he knew what she was talking about.

Grace swallowed hard past the lump in her throat as she rose her eyes to the cloudless sky, praying that her friend had been wrong.

"I have a friend who works for one PP. She saw you in the bar a couple of months back with that mystery blond girl." she said, feeling the tension begin to tingle in her nerves as she rose to her feet.

Don followed suit, his hands coming to rest on his hips as Grace pursed her lips together in a grim line. He'd spent the past few weeks trying to work out in his head how to approach this without screwing things up. He wanted there to be no secrets between them but as it turned out fate has twisted his arm before he could bring himself to talk about it.

"Grace, that was..."

"Did you cheat on me?" she asked him out right.

"Grace..." he began again.

"Let me make this simple." she snapped, raising a hand to cut him off as she spat out each word. "Did you cheat on me?"

Don bit down on his lower lip in agitation. If he wanted this to work he had to be honest but Grace wasn't going to give him that chance to explain. Hell, if the roles were reversed he didn't know if he would do that either.

"No, but it came pretty close." Don confessed, every single word dragging out of him reluctantly.

"How close? Are we talking a kiss or something more here?" Grace questioned, gesturing with her hands in agitation.

Don fell silent and that was an answer in itself.

"Really?" Grace exclaimed, her eyes softening in hurt as her tone lowered. "You were going to go home with her."

"I don't know what I was going to do." he admitted, hanging his head in shame.

"I can take a guess." she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself.

Don's hands came to rest on her shoulders holding her in place so that their eyes could meet. Grace stared back at him, her expression contorting in pain as Don selected his words carefully. They were on dangerous shaky ground here and one misstep could easily lead to their downfall.

"The fact is I didn't Grace. You have to believe me when I promise you that it won't happen again." Don pleaded, trying to convey the depth of his emotions with his voice.

"Am I supposed to take your word for that?" she asked him quietly.

"Grace..." he began, the sentences sticking in his throat as Grace was wrenching away from him.

"Do not Grace me Don." she erupted, jabbing her finger at him. "It drives me mad when you do that. How am I supposed to trust you after something like that?"

"I didn't cheat." he found himself shouting in frustration.

"But you were going to. The only reason you didn't is because your partner got involved." Grace retorted bordering on hysteria.

"You don't know that." Don snarled, pointing at her.

"And apparently neither do you." Grace bit back, hands on her hips as she shook her head in disbelief.

"Grace, I was crazy messed up. Me and you weren't doing so well. I was drinking all of the god damn time. Everything was slipping you, the job..." Don rubbed the back of his neck trying to explain.

"Don't." Grace held her hands up in defence squeezing them into fists before releasing them, her voice breaking just a little as she spoke. "Please just don't."

"Grace..." he implored.

"I can't do this right now Don." Grace muttered, twisting her head away from him. "I can't process what you've just told me. I need to figure out whether this is something that I can forgive or whether I should be walking away from you."

It was at that moment that Grace turned her back on him and took quivering unsteady steps back to the board walk leaving Don to stare helplessly after his distraught lover.


Dino's was an Italian place located on Broadway. It was where the Flack family held all of their special occasions. It had been the restaurant that Don's parents had gotten engaged in, the place where they celebrated their birthday parties, their achievements and triumphs. Don had spent some of the happiest years of his life in this place and here they were again sipping champagne flutes of fresh orange juice and toasting to Sam's two years of sobriety.

Grace hadn't called him in over week since their bust up at the beach. Don couldn't say he blamed her but he was kicking himself for getting himself into this situation. It seemed he would never be free from the drink induced insanity that had marred those dark months after the shooting.

"Where's Gracie tonight?" his father, Donald Flack Snr questioned.

Don gulped from his glass of orange juice wishing it was something stronger as his father spoke. The two of them were sitting back at the dinner table watching as his mother and sister talked animately with the owner of the restaurant. It was hard for his father moving around so much these days. During his time as the Commissioner he had taken a bullet to the left kneecap which had left him reliant on a cane, he retired soon after.

"She had a thing." Don answered non-committally.

"The two of you ok?" his father asked.

It didn't take a Detective to see from the expression on his son's face that he was deeply unhappy. It had been this way since Gracie had been shot. He knew his son felt guilty over what had happened to his girlfriend but he couldn't have prevented the incident any more than his partner could have.

They had talked it out not long ago and he thought that the issues between Gracie and Don had been resolved, apparently that was not the case here. He knew the lingering affects an attack like that would have on a relationship, but these two were made to walk the distance. Gracie was a decent, headstrong woman and she was good for Don. He had never seen his son as contented as he had seemed when he was with her.

The first time he'd met her the words daughter in law were pulsating in his brain. He had known the two of them were meant for each other from the minute he'd watched them interact. Her light teasing at his son's habits and the way Don's smile lit up his eyes had been what had won him over when Don had brought her over for Sunday dinner four years ago. The woman had fit right into their family as if she'd always belonged there, she was easy going and stuck to her guns, something that the old man admired and enjoyed. Despite Don's protests that the two of them were only friends Donald Snr could always see that it was going to blossom into more.

They had been through a lot together, he remembered the nights she had spent sitting by his son's bedside reading comic books to him after the explosion. More than anything he recalled the conversations they used to have about Don's depression when the pain got so bad and the dreams got so terrifying she was sleeping on his couch every night so that he had someone to talk to. The girl had been a saviour through the past few years, she had fought for and supported his son when he needed someone and Donald Snr had a lot of respect for Gracie Sullivan for the way she handled her own troubles.

"I don't know Pop." Don said, shaking his head as he swilled the remainder of the orange juice around his glass. "We're going through some stuff."

"Whatever your going through can't be that bad, here she is now." Donald Snr pointed out, tilting the cane he had hooked onto the surface of the table in the direction of the entrance.

There Grace was, striding towards them with an elegance that Don had always associated with her beautiful form. Her dark hair was pinned back into a sexy messy bun, stray tendrils fell around her pale delicate features. The halter neck dress was midnight blue making her skin glow healthily against the colour. The dress hugged every curve Grace had, extenuating her sleek feminine figure.

Don bit his lower lip hard in anticipation, she was out to torture him tonight he could tell and he deserved every single moment of it. The sweetheart neckline plunged showing a generous expanse of cleavage but hiding just the right amount to keep her classy. The dress came to fall just past her knees. Don imagined what that dress must feel like against her skin as she moved, his hands gliding over her skin as he unzipped it. His eyes strayed down to her long, toned legs looking stunning clad in patent leather peep toe shoes with white soles. In her small hand she carried a matching purse.

His mother was waving to Grace from her place by host of the bar. The two exchanged air kisses, chattering for a few moments before his sister Sam turned around to see Grace standing before her. Sam let out a squeal of delight as she threw her arms around Grace's shoulders pulling her into a heart felt hug.

"I can't believe you came." Sam exclaimed, drawing back.

Her smile was wide and infectious and he saw Grace's lips already curving into that familiar wonderful smile that made his heart beat just a little bit faster in his chest.

"I wouldn't miss this for the world." Grace told the other woman beaming.

Don found himself smiling as he watched the two of them. Grace had been there for his sister when he had been too stubborn to take that step. She was the one who had mended their relationship by taking him to Sam's AA meeting that night, she had showed him the trouble his sister was in and she had been the one that showed him how to support her.

"I have to go say 'Hi' to my beloved." Grace said, withdrawing from Sam and stepping around her.

Don was already on his feet and moving towards Grace. They met in the middle of the bustling restaurant, her small hands came to rest on his waist as she pressed a butterfly kiss to his cheek. Don wrapped his firm arms around her body holding her close as she hugged him tightly.

"You should remember what I do for a living and make sure it doesn't happen again." she whispered into his ear, half serious.

"We good?" he requested, tilting his head down so he could look into her honest grey gaze as she spoke.

"Yes Don, we're good."

Chapter 29

Summary:

Grace steals something of Don's.

Chapter Text

Grace was punishing him. Don was sure of it. He'd become all too aware of it over the past few weeks. Each one of their make out sessions were becoming steamier and more intense. He was surprised that Grace maintained the will power to actually resist their urges. The woman had nerves of steel. He had lost count of how many times in the past few months he had taken a cold shower because she had worked him up so badly.

The things Grace did to him recently Don was sure were intentional. He felt his entire body tense as he remembered the way she had been licking that ice pop last week when she had a sore throat. It had been practically erotic. Every time she denied him, it made him want her even more.

More than anything Don understood her reluctance to take that step again into being intimate again. Although both of them would feel that almost narcotic rush of completion, it would mean that Grace would have to give up a piece of herself to him all over again and he was prepared to wait until she was ready.

Yet here she was tempting him. Don barely stepped through the doorway to his apartment before he was confronted by the sight of her arousing him. Grace was in the living room wearing nothing but his baby blue button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. He could see the sexy black boy boxers hugging her toned ass as she glided past the coffee table, laundry tablets clasped in her hand. Her long lean legs were on display causing a painful stirring in the front of Don's jeans.

"Hey," Grace greeted, popping a tablet into Don's laundry machine and pushing the button on before returning to the living room. "I ran out of clothes so I thought I'd steal this until my laundry's done."

"You know you just admitted to stealing right?" Don pointed out, tossing his keys onto the table along with his gun and badge before coming to stand in front of her. "It's an arrestable offence."

"Maybe we can work something out Detective?" Grace pondered, her hands enclosed on the grey, woollen scarf draped around his neck as she used it to pull him closer.

"Are you offering me a bribe?" he asked her, his hands came to rest on her hips pulling her against him so she could feel his erection through the denim of his jeans.

"Whatever you want." she whispered.

Her delicate hands were already pushing the brown leather jacket from his shoulders. He let it drape to the floor in a heap before his fingers began to toy with the top button of the shirt, flicking it open to reveal her cleavage. He could feel her nipples stiffening through the material in anticipation against his chest. He leaned in close, his hand threading through her hair and gripping it to guide her within inches of his mouth.

"You know what I want." he murmured against her lips looking deeply into her eyes.

Don could see everything in her gaze. She was his world, the other half of his soul nested deep within her and he could feel the magic starting to happen whenever he let all of those fears he harboured disappear. There were no room for doubts in a moment like this, he trusted her with everything he had and he could see all of those emotions reflected back in her eyes.

"I'm ready." she told him.

Don closed his eyes as his lips brushed hers with a tenderness he reserved for no one else. Her mouth was soft and welcoming. She tasted like cherries from the Chapstick she had applied earlier. His tongue parted her lips, exploring the confines of her mouth as his hands mingled in her dark hair. Grace's hands smoothed up the muscles of his back through his white T-shirt, clasping him even closer to her athletic form.

His fingers made light work of the buttons of the shirt she was wearing, he took an intake of breathe as it hung open revealing her lack of bra.

"Your beautiful." he whispered against her mouth as he dropped down into a sitting position on the couch, tugging her with him.

They stayed pressed together as Grace straddled his hips unwilling to break the contact between them. He could see everything from this position and that was what he wanted. He needed everything from her and for Grace to see that he could be everything she needed. His hands were under the shirt, his thumbs lightly teasing her nipples as he cupped her breasts with clever hands. She tipped her head back expelling his name, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders as his hot tongue licked the space in between her breasts.

He loved the noises she made as she gave herself over to him. Every sigh, moan and whimper was music to his ears urging him to continue with his deft exploration of her body.

"Stand up." he requested.

Grace's eyes were on him as she followed his order. Don came to perch on the edge of the couch, his hands were gliding up and down the backs of her thighs, fingers teasing along the line of her panties drawing an illicit moan from her throat. His hands came to rest firmly on her ass, drawing her closer to his awaiting mouth.

Hearing that gasp of pleasure as he kissed her clit through her panties excited him even more than he thought was possible. His fingers were already hooking her underwear and drawing it down her lithe legs before he pressed his mouth against her once again. Her nails raked his shoulders, her entire body wrought with abandonment as he sucked on her bundle of nerves with his lips, his tongue licking over the area making her writhe in ecstasy underneath his hands.

Grace's breathes were coming in pants as he held her captive to his ministrations, each one of her desperate whimpers sent thrills through him as he brought her closer to climax. She was on the edge, he could feel it from the tension that knotted in every single motion her sensual body made. Her hands were clutching his shoulders, fingertips digging into his flesh as Don stopped.

"Don, I need you inside me right now. I can't wait." she pleaded.

The desire in her voice alone was almost enough to tip him over. He had never heard such yearning from her before, such want. Her skin was flushed with the antagonizing sense of rapture that he had created, her eyes were bright with arousal as he stripped off his T-shirt, before his controlled hands undid his belt buckle and yanked down both his jeans and his underwear at the same time revealing his enticing erection.

"You don't have to wait." he murmured, grabbing fistfuls of the shirt she was still wearing and tugging her back into his lap.

Grace straddled his hips for a second time, his leaking cock was rubbing over her slickness, denying her the fulfilment she craved.

"Please Don, I can't take it any more." she begged him. "Just fuck me."

Her breathing hitched as his hands came to rest on her waist. His palm covered the white ragged scar that matched his own as he penetrated her with a devastating slowness. Her face contorted with pleasure, taking every single inch of him until he reached his hilt.

Don knew from the instant he'd entered her supple body he wasn't going to last long. He thrust into her again and again, feeling her inner walls clench around him as her cries of euphoria drowned out everything but this moment. They were inches from completion, she was already tensing around his cock as his own orgasm rose up like a wave inside him, stealing his breath as the pleasure raged through him. His nerve ends were erupting with elation as Grace's entire body climaxed against his. The expression of sheer bliss upon on her exquisite features caused him to peak. Don had no control over the powerful orgasm that exploded through him as he buried himself deep inside her.

Her sensational grey gaze was locked on his face when he opened his eyes. Her mouth covered his own, pouring the wealth of their emotions into that kiss. She was his forever, the two of them were joined for eternity and he would spend the rest of his life making her feel as content as he felt in this very moment. Their hearts were beating against each other through their chests and Don knew without a shadow of a doubt that this is was how it was supposed to be between them, this was the true meaning behind finding your soulmate.

"Marry me." he whispered as he kissed the corner of her mouth.

He felt her lips curve into a smile, his thumb followed their outline as she spoke the one word he'd been waiting to hear from her for his whole entire life.

"Yes."

Chapter 30

Summary:

Grace returns to work after the shooting.

Chapter Text

The crime scene was a brownstone on the Upper East Side. Grace liked this part of the city, the pavements were clear, the people appeared friendly and the houses were maintained and well kept. She knew you were paying for that luxury when you moved here, that and the illusion of safety it provided. Seeing the area already cordoned off with yellow crime scene tape really showed you that this district wasn't as immune to crime as it first appeared which she was sure was disappointing to the residents.

The inhabitants of the Upper East Side paid well for the knowledge that their children were safe in their beds at night or on the way to or from school, a scene like this in their backyard would shake things up in this neighbourhood. On the bright side she was hoping it enticed the citizens with a deeper morale fibre to come forward if they had witnessed anything that could be described as relevant.

It was cold when Grace stepped out of the passenger seat of the black Avalanche, tugging her silver Crime Scene Kit behind her. She had restocked it this morning lovingly when she'd made it into the lab. She didn't want to get caught out on her first day back in the field. The breeze was icy, fluffing her loose hair as she slammed the door shut behind her. She was wrapped up in a grey woollen jacket that she'd secured with the belt around her waist. She had snagged Don's navy blue chequered scarf this morning on the way out, since hers was still packed in one of the many boxes that the two of them had moved into his apartment over the past few days. She inhaled his rich masculine scent, burying her nose against the cold into the warmth of the scarf.

Grace's eyes came to rest on Don as she broke into stride alongside Stella. Whenever she looked at him she felt her heart palpitate just a little at the thought of the silver ring upon her finger. She hadn't gotten used to the word fiancé yet, it seemed alien on her tongue every time she said it. It was hard for her to tell people about their engagement and she was aware that they would come to their own assumptions the longer she continued to wear the ring. She thought maybe it was better that way, she didn't want to make a fuss over their relationship. The proposal was special and intimate, something for the two of them to remember and savour she wasn't ready to share that with other people just yet, not when she, herself was just getting used to the idea.

Don was talking to a witness, his fingers clasped around his black memo book as he asked questions and scribbled down each detail the young blond woman answered with. His brown leather jacket was zipped up tight against the cold, his own grey woollen scarf peeked out from around the junction of his throat keeping his neck and chin warm against the cool weather. His hands though, she knew they must be freezing, he had left his gloves at home on the kitchen table from when he'd emptied his pockets last night. She handed them to him wordlessly as she glided by, he nodded his thanks as he took them before returning to the interview. His firm, soothing tones putting the shaken young woman at ease.

Supervising District Attorney Craig Hansen was hurrying down the steps from the brownstone house as they stepped onto the pavement in front of him. Grace frowned, taking in his harried appearance. There was a second where she thought she saw something, a glimpse of an emotion she didn't full understand but it was gone as quickly as it had come. That was the problem with being out of the field she thought, clasping her case in front of her as Stella paused, she was becoming suspicious of everything and everyone. She was sure there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for Hansen to be here, it wasn't uncommon for the District Attorney to turn up to a case when there was a political agenda. Grace just didn't see where the politics were in this case in particular yet.

"Hey Craig." Stella greeted Hansen cheerfully as he came to a halt in front of the two of them.

His tan overcoat was folded over his forearm as he rewarded them with a wide, strained smile. It appeared he was under a lot of pressure from the expression on his middle aged features. Yet Grace had heard that he had been promoted recently and stepping up was something that she imagined was hard to adjust to.

"Hey Sullivan it's good to see you back." Hansen responded as his gaze fell on her in surprise. "You had us worried for a while kid, we thought we'd have to get one of the other lab guys to testify for the De Marco case."

His concerns were genuine in a professional capacity and Grace didn't take offence to that. In her absence Danny had taken over her share of court appearances, she had been careful to detail the exact locations of each collection so he knew exactly what to say if her conduct was called into question.

Even when she was working in the lab as a tech before she had been medically cleared for the field she had attended each and every testimonial she was able to. All it took was a smart defence attorney to question the authenticity of the control samples that she had collected and the case was good as thrown out in the eyes of the jury. She refused to be the reason that someone's murderer or rapist walked free.

Hansen had worked closely with Grace over the past few months, coaching her through each testimonial she was required to give to ensure that she wasn't blind-sided by the Defence. With a high profile case like the De Marco case he needed her in top form to make sure the Ivy League Millionaire didn't walk on the murder of his mistress.

The problem was a couple of weeks ago she had gotten sick, at first glance it looked like an infection. Don had ushered her to the hospital within hours of her coming down with the condition, after an overnight stay her Doctor had sent her off packing with antibiotics proclaiming her illness was thankfully a virus. Grace had never been so glad to hear the word before, Sheldon had given her a detailed explanation of how they cured a deep tissue infection and it sounded both painful and nauseating. An infection would have knocked her out of action for weeks at a time, she was over the virus in a few days.

"There's nothing for you to worry about Craig, Mac wouldn't let me back in the field if he thought I was still sick." she said as a matter of fact. "So I'll be ready to testify at that trial."

"So will that cheap suit of his." Stella said, her eyes glinting with humour as she spoke. "Supervising DA's salary and your still wearing that thing."

"Keeping tabs on me Bonasera?" Hansen replied, his lips quirking into a smile.

"You wore the same one at the Donnelly scene." Stella pointed out with a smirk.

"And how did that case turn out?" Hansen prompted, inclining his head towards Stella with a knowing look.

"Full confession." she stated, with a hint of pride in her voice.

"Lucky suit?" Grace mused, raising her eyebrows as she regarded the suit impressed.

"Exactly." Hansen responded, wagging a finger at her words.

"What brings you here?" Stella asked.

Grace sensed the same confusion she felt at his presence at this crime scene. There had been no mumblings or whispers of it being someone of political importance, which wasn't to say that the victim didn't matter. Every victim mattered in her eyes, it just didn't warrant the fact Hansen was here. Hansen was already pulling on his overcoat over his suit as he answered.

"Pricey neighbourhood like this, the higher ups want a play by play. Put me on speed dial will you? Keep me in the loop?" he requested, tugging his collar free so that it wasn't folded underneath.

"Of course." Stella said with a nod before Hansen turned on his heel and set off across the street.


The first thing Grace absorbed as she set foot on the landing was the sounds of a mother crying. She could hear the choked and antagonized sobs as her boots sunk into the plush carpeted hallway. It tore at her heart in such a way she knew the memory of the words the woman was repeating would haunt her dreams for nights to come.

"I don't want to go back in there."

The uniformed officer was trying to pacify the mother, his voice was gruff and emotional as he spoke trying to take down the details. Grace could only imagine the horror the woman had suffered when she had stepped into that bedroom. She didn't wish that upon anyone.

They're eyes met as Grace strode slowly towards them, steeling her nerves up for the first step into the crime scene. The mother's anguish was reflected in her hazel gaze, her hand clasped over her mouth as her chest rose and fell in short fast breaths as tears slid down her grief stricken features. The woman had experienced her worst nightmare today.

The uniformed officer was struggling, Grace could see that. He was young and fresh faced, straight out of the academy she thought. Between the mother's desperate hysterics and his own emotional immaturity this was destined to continue and the information they so badly sought from the grieving parent would go astray.

He was relieved when she reached out and briefly touched the mother's arm, drawing her attention in Grace's direction.

"Go get your training officer." Grace said gently, as her hand rubbed up and down the mother's arm soothingly.

It occurred to Grace as she watched the patrol officer walk away that she didn't even have a name for the victim yet, nor the mother. Stella was still downstairs locked in a conversation with the first responder and the two of them had not been briefed by Don yet.

"Just take long deep breathes." Grace directed in a calming tone. "Nobody's going to make you go back in there."

The mother nodded, her hand falling away from her mouth and clasping the golden locket hanging on a thin chain around her neck. Her eyes strayed back to the door at the end of the hallway, her gaze transfixed upon it. The crime scene, Grace guessed.

"My daughter..." she submitted, fresh tears filling her eyes. "My baby girl."

"I am so very sorry for your loss." Grace said genuinely as the mother's fingers seized her own tightly.

No mother should have to go through this, parents should outlive their children and listening to the body racking sobs of this woman was devastating. Grace set down her kit, her free hand coming to cover the mother's as the older woman turned away from all the torment and dread that lay beyond that door and met her gaze.

"I know it's a small consolation but I promise we will see that justice is done for your daughter." she said softly, letting the mother see the truth upon her pale features.

"Thank you." the other woman's voice was a hoarse whisper as she spoke.

"I think you should go downstairs." Grace instructed the other woman kindly. "Make yourself some tea, one of the officers will be with you in a few minutes to take your statement when you feel up to it."

The mother nodded sullenly, using the back of her sleeve to wipe at the mascara marring her eyes. It was a distraction to get her away from the room that contained the body of her child and as Grace saw Officer Jessop take the older woman's trembling hands and guide her down the stairs she knew that she had made the right decision.

Grace found herself staring at the door now, apprehension filling her entire body. She doubted it would be the worst scene she'd attended but now that she had met the victim's mother it made what was on the other side of the frame hit a lot more closer to home.

She picked up her kit and took rapid strides towards the beckoning crime scene. Her hand came to rest on the door knob, she gave it a vicious twist before pushing the door open with the palm of her hand.

The room was bright and airy, light was filtering in through the open curtains and shining upon the baby pink walls that decorated the bedroom. There were wavy flowers painted upon the wall paper giving the stark impression of innocence.

The body of a young girl was splayed out across the beige carpet. She was still wearing her short cartoon pyjamas from the night before making her look even more childlike as she lay immobile, soaking in a pool of her own blood. Her glassy, vacant eyes stared up at the ceiling, her strawberry blond hair colour matched her mother' sand was fanned around her head like a grotesque halo.

Her throat had been slit, she would have to wait to get a more concise verdict but from what Grace could see it looked like a single laceration, clean and fast. The killer had had no intention of leaving this girl alive.

She felt Don's presence behind her as she set down her crime scene kit, and glanced over her shoulder to see Stella following suit behind him. Already her keen expert gaze was taking in every aspect of the scene as she surveyed the room.

"Christina Reynolds, 18 years old. I had my guys check three times but there's no sign of forced entry." Don addressed the two of them from the doorway, his closed memo book in his gloved hands.

"She could have known her killer." Stella remarked tilting her head to catch a glimpse of Christina's face.

Now that the girl had a name it made whatever tragedy that had occurred here even more distressing.

"Is there a father in the picture?" Grace asked, raising to her feet coming to stand slightly apart from Don so she could see his face.

"He's not around." he responded.

"Boyfriend?" Stella prompted with a frown as she took in the marks that were etched into Christina's hands.

"Apparently she was seeing a guy who goes by the street name Demon." Don answered, the expression on his handsome features clearly showed his thoughts on that.

"Oh to be a teenager again." Stella commented, rolling her eyes.

"Yea I know." Don said, grimacing as he crossed his arms over his firm chest. "What's scary is when I run the name through the system I get hits to fifty other morons using the same name."

"That's a lot of Demons." Grace remarked with a sigh.

"Yea." Don responded turning his vivid blue eyes upon her. "My guys are trying to conjure up the one we're after. In the meantime I'm gonna head down town with the neighbour and have her work with a sketch artist."

"Have fun." Grace said waving him off as he disappeared through the door.

Chapter 31

Summary:

Grace and the crime lab are forced to deal with the fall out of Craig Hansen planting evidence.

Chapter Text

The case had gone from bad to worse in Grace's eyes. Using a shoe print that Sheldon had discovered in Christine's en suite bathroom and the sketch that Don had secured from the eye witness they had been able to link Antonio Reyes to the murder of Christine Reynolds. The evidence was enough to secure that he be denied bail, preventing the possibility of someone else's child falling prey to such a callous and vindictive predator.

The only problem was regarding a lighter that Danny had found underneath Christine's bed. They had matched the fingerprint on it to Rob Meyers, a man seemingly unconnected with the case. It was only when Adam had run a Trace report upon the lighter due to a contaminated DNA sample that the true weight of the situation had dawned upon them. The underside of the lighter had been soaked in the chemical that Sheldon had been had used to try and get a shoe impression off of the carpet.

The lighter had been planted by D. A Craig Hansen in order to discover the identity of the man, his wife was having an affair with. He had used the crime lab as an instrument for his own personal gain and because of that Christine Reynolds and her family were paying the price.

Stella had had to march into that courtroom during Reyes' arraignment in and declare that all their physical evidence regarding Antonio Reyes was unusable because of a selfish and crooked prosecutor.

Watching Stella's interview with Craig Hansen from the observation room was harrowing. As usual Stella was on top form snapping back at all of Hansen's rebuttals with responses of her own but at the end of the day they were getting nowhere. Hansen had an answer for everything she was throwing at him. The guy had worked in the justice system over the past fifteen years and picked up a few tricks along the way.

It was infuriating to be in this position, to have everything resting in your hands only to be snatched away in an instant. She sincerely hoped that Craig Hansen got everything he deserved for what he had done and more.

Grace slammed her palm over the button of the speaker to drown out the sound of Hansen's despicable denial as Stella questioned him. She couldn't listen to another minute of his incessant threats. It made her physically ill to think of him abusing the justice system like that, to implicate the crime lab in his own warped way. Jesus, she was resisting the urge to hit something right now, the frustration was boiling up inside her as she pressed her palm against the wall and took a deep steady breath to reign in her temper.

"I just got word they assigned a new DA to the Christine Reynolds case." Don informed her as he entered the observation room.

His keen blue eyes were studying his fiancée with trepidation as she raked her hand through choppy dark hair. Her jaw was clenched as she tilted her head away from him, struggled to get a grasp on her composure. Don understood the rage that was blazing in her eyes. What he wouldn't give to tear the head right off Hansen's smug shoulders but he was the logical one out of the two of them. He was more restrained than Grace could ever be hence why he was the Detective and she was the scientist.

It was hard to play well with others when they taunted you and he knew all the times she 'd been sitting on the opposite side to the interrogation table playing good cop it had never sat right with her in the hours after.

"All of the physical evidence we have on that animal Antonio Reyes is admissible." Grace fumed, pushing herself away from the wall, clasping a hand to her forehead.

"Mac's on the phone to the DA as we speak. Unless we get more forensics on Antonio, this entire case rests on the testimony of one eyewitness." Don laid out the facts as he saw them.

This was the hand that they had been dealt and as much as it aggravated him he was determined to make the best out of it. One eyewitness wasn't likely to get them a conviction in the long haul. Their accounts were often deemed as flawed in the court of law.

"I wish I had a pillow to scream into, I really do." Grace growled, gesturing wildly with her hands.

"Come here." Don offered, making a come hither motion with his right hand.

Don wrapped his arms around her shoulders drawing her into a comforting embrace. Grace relaxed into his body, inhaling his clean masculine scent as she buried her face into the safe haven of his chest.

"First day back isn't going so well is it?" he murmured into her hairline as he held Grace close.

"No it is not." her response was muffled as she spoke into his black fleece.

"You know what will cheer you up?" Don asked, tilting his chin so he could meet her eyes as she peered up at him in curiosity. "Telling people that we're actually engaged."

Grace groaned out loud before pressing her forehead back against his chest.

"I still haven't figured out what to say if they ask me how it happened." she mumbled, her hands rubbing up and down his waist as she spoke.

"Yea earth shattering sex on the couch doesn't sound very romantic." Don agreed, resting his chin upon the top of her head."Your gonna have to tell them at some point before the wedding."

"We haven't even set a date yet." Grace reminded him, breathing in his essence.

"Within a year." Don told her, his head bent low to her ear. "I don't care about the wedding, choose what you want. It's the marriage I care about."

"That's one of the most romantic things you've ever said to me in a completely backwards way." Grace said, leaning back so she could read the expression on his handsome features.

From the look in his startling blue eyes she could tell he meant every single word that he said.

"Feel better yet?" He asked her, releasing her completely from his person.

Grace nodded, before poking a finger into his chest as she spoke.

"I'm gonna go find some evidence. Wish me luck."


The bullpen was crowded and busy when Grace stepped from the interrogation area into the thick of things. All around her detectives were processing their own cases, she could sense their pity as she took each step through the room. There was sympathy in many of their eyes as she strode through and she knew it was because every single person in here was glad that they weren't in the her position.

This was every detective's worst nightmare coming true and she despised Hansen even more when she thought about how his manipulative actions had jeopardised the lives of every single person in the city. Grace had no doubt that Reyes would kill again. His eyes were soulless and calculating and as they had been standing in the courtroom he had been smirking. It disgusted her to see him licking his lips at Mrs Reynolds and snarling at the eyewitness.

When Stella had marched into that courtroom Grace hadn't been able to look Mrs Reynold's in the eyes. She couldn't stand to see the expression of raw horror on that woman's features as her chance at justice was so cruelly stripped away. Stella had told her to sit it out, that she didn't need to be in the courtroom when she made her declaration to the judge but the truth was Grace couldn't let Stella take this step all on her own. As much as Stella felt responsible for Hansen's actions it wasn't her fault. The crime lab would be demonetised for it's role in this travesty and she couldn't let Stella and Mac bare the brunt of this atrocity.

Her eyes came to rest on a familiar strawberry blond figure raising to her feet from an empty chair beside someone's empty desk. Mrs Reynold's hazel eyes were blazing as she shot to her feet at the sight of Grace. Her knuckles were white as she clasped her black leather hand bag to her shoulder. Her face was a mask of fury as she stopped right in front of the younger woman, her entire body quaking with animosity.

There was a moment where Grace thought the other woman was going to lash out and slap her across the face. The idea definitely crossed the other woman's mind and Grace knew had it happened she would have stood her ground and taken it, because the truth was she deserved it for promising this woman something that she couldn't deliver.

"Tell me why?" Mrs Reynold's spat at her. "Why did you let my daughter's murderer walk out of the courtroom this morning?"

"Mrs Reynold's I am so sorry." Grace uttered sincerely, willing the other woman to understand their plight. "But we had no choice. The prosecutor's actions were unacceptable. We were compelled to take it to the judge."

"I don't want the text book answer, I want to know how you can live with it." the older woman snapped, staring at Grace with a look of up-most disdain.

"I am truly sorry for what we had to do today."

It was the only thing that Grace could say. Apologizing didn't make it better, it wouldn't stop him from killing again, from hurting someone else. Mrs Reynolds was saying all of her thoughts out loud and it was crushing to see that expression of despair upon the other woman's features.

"And now Antonio Reyes is back on the street where he can do more harm, where he can murder someone else's child." Mrs Reynold's voice cracked just enough to break Grace's heart.

"I promise we are doing everything in our power not to let that happen." Even as she heard herself speak Grace didn't believe it.

Short of putting a bullet in Reye's brain there was no insurance that he wouldn't somehow slip past the police officers that were tailing him and kill someone else. This was one of those times where the law could not be called into question and Grace hated it.

"You promised me justice." Mrs Reynolds voice rose in pitch as she bristled.

"And now I'm asking you to be patient." Grace implored earnestly. "We will get him."

"You have a lot to answer for Detective Sullivan. You and your damned crime lab have ruined the only chance I had at putting my baby girl to rest. My daughter's turning in her grave because of the mess you've caused. I hope to God one day someone you love is stolen from and all your left with is an empty broken promise."

Her words were more violent and savage than any physical blow that Mrs Reynold's ever could have dealt. Grace felt them cutting through her like a red hot knife as the older woman turned on her heel and stalked away leaving Grace completely speechless as she slammed the door to the station house behind her.

Chapter 32

Summary:

Don discusses his engagement to Grace with Mac.

Chapter Text

They were watching the TV in the conference room. Mac and Flack were standing side by side surveying the news coverage on the case. Having Stella walk straight into the court room and call a halt to the trial had been a controversial move on their part, especially when she was forced to arrest the prosecutor before the entire congregation of people.

The event was all over the channels, reporters were talking about the repercussions this could have on all of Hansen's cases. As usual the NYPD were in the direct firing line despite the fact it wasn't they're cock up. To make matters worse Reyes had just been bailed out and was back on the streets again free to murder someone else's kid.

Don rubbed the back if his neck anxiously as he watched the news. He wasn't the only one this was hitting hard. Stella and Mac were kicking themselves for not being able to see something like this coming. Craig Hansen had been their friend for years. Stella had risen up the ranks with him over the past fifteen years, yet she hadn't hesitated when it came to arresting him. The evidence was right before her eyes and she couldn't deny it. Like himself Stella was a person who worked with facts.

"So much for the sufficiency hearing the judge placed on him." Mac remarked dryly, his expression one of disgust as he hit the mute button on the remote.

"Someone in Antonio's crew must have access to a lot of legit funds." Don returned thoughtfully, his arms folded over his chest.

"Ensure we have eyes and ears on Antonio Reyes. I wanna hear about every move he makes." Mac ordered, glancing at Don as the other man nodded his agreement.

There wasn't a chance in hell Don was letting Reyes wonder around the streets after what had gone down in the court room today. With their entire case resting on the testimony of an eye witness Don wasn't taking the risk that the malicious son of a bitch would destroy the keystone that holding it all together.

"I hear there's an congratulations in order." Mac said into the morbid silence that stretched between the two of them.

"She told you?" Don questioned, tilting his head towards the older man in stunned by the revelation.

Mac's hands came to rest upon his hips before answering.

"Not in so many words, I saw the ring on her finger."

"Yea she's keeping it quiet at the moment."

Mac could hear the exasperation in the younger man's voice at the situation and he thought he understood what was causing it.

Don was as direct as they come in regards to his feelings for Grace. Mac had felt the chemistry crackling in the air between the two whenever they were together over the years and finally as he watched their relationship develop he saw something more in their eyes, something he recognized from a lifetime ago before his wife Claire had died.

He remembered Don's vow almost two years ago as they stood in Grace's wrecked apartment, he had realized then that were was something more between the two of them than just friendship.

When Mac and Stella had received that call they had been on the way to Grace's apartment already. Will Hamlin had called into work sick today and if Mac knew anything it was that the perverse son of a bitch was waiting for Grace at home ready to commit the worst act of violence imaginable upon her body. He was revolted by what that bastard had done to one of his people. Grace was a member of his family and to see her so broken and despondent wounded him.

Don has been in complete control of the situation when Stella and himself had arrived at that crime scene. Grace was huddled in a chair, her dark hair in disarray as it fell over her bloody and bruised face. Her grey eyes were closed, her palms rested flat upon the surface of the kitchen table as she bowed her head in shame. It pained Mac to see her like this, to see her look so defeated. It riled him that he hadn't been able to protect her. Hamlin had made a move that Mac hadn't anticipated and Grace was suffering the consequences.

Her service pistol was disarmed, laid out in two pieces on the opposite end of the kitchen table from her. The clip and empty gun laying side by side. He knew what evidence he would find upon that weapon, Hamlin's fingerprints around the grip underneath Grace's. Epithelials from her cheek on the side of the barrel from where he'd hit her with it judging from the pattern of bruising on her face.

Don's black leather jacket had been draped around her shoulders shielding Mac's vision from the tears in her clothing. Even though the temperature of the room was warm, the young woman was quivering as she sat there taking deep shaky breaths.

Later Don would tell him how he had used his spare key to enter the apartment after she had called him and how he had had to prise the weapon from her tight fingers as she stood fixated, tears trailing down her cheeks pointing the gun at her unconscious boyfriend.

Don was sitting in a kitchen chair he had pulled up along side her, his head was bent low so he was on her level, his face inches away from Grace's as he spoke to her in soft, dulcet tones. There was a tenderness in his features, his bright blue eyes were caring and affectionate as he lingered in her proximity generating some comfort from the viciousness of the attack.

Grace's shoulders sagged underneath the weight of the burden that was weighting on her and Mac caught a glimpse of the genuine emotion in Don's eyes as he reached out and smoothed a stray strand of hair back behind her ear. The two of them were close and Mac hadn't realized how deep the bond was until he witnessed that gesture.

Will Hamlin was hand cuffed in the living room under the careful watch of two uniformed police officers. They ignored his snarls and threats as he wrestled with his cuffs. They were going to be sorry, he wanted the bitch arrested for attempted murder. It was a string of bitter words coming from a coward and Mac had told him as much.

"She's shaken up Mac and she's not talking. I've never seen her like this." Don told the other man as Mac had gestured for them to move into a more private area of the apartment to discuss the situation.

"She's in shock Don. She won't open up until we get her away from this son of a bitch." Mac stated shaking his head, he wondered how it had even gotten this far.

"He was gonna kill her Mac." Don said in a tone that left no doubt to Hamlin's intentions.

The muscle in his cheek twitching from clenching his jaw so hard. His observant blue eyes came to rest on the shattered glass from a vase scattered all over the floor. White rose petals smeared with blood littered the area surrounding the jagged shards, Don knew from the cuts on Grace's palms that this was where she had fallen the first time he'd hit her.

"I should have stayed with her, I should have made sure that the bastard didn't get near her. How could I let her walk back into this?" he chastised himself for his own stupidity.

"I'm as much at fault as you are Don, I made the mistake of letting her come back here alone. I thought she was safe." Mac let out a deep regretful sigh. "The important thing now is to make Grace feel as safe as possible."

"I'll do that Mac." Don said, his mouth set in a grim line as his gaze remained on the terrified young woman as she tried to hide the tears that were trailing down her cheeks behind her bangs. "If I have spend my entire life trying to do that then I will."

Don made good on his promise, there wasn't a day that went by that Mac didn't see the sparkle glittering in Grace's eyes and he knew the other man was responsible for that. Even when the two of them had been having problems, Mac had seen that the love for each other stand against the issues that ailed them. They made one another happy and Mac couldn't wish for any more than that.

"Grace is a very private person, she's probably trying to get used to the idea of getting married herself." Mac explained to the younger man trying to alleviate some of the stress he was feeling from his seemingly unsure bride to be.

"You know we talked after what happened with her ex?" Mac revealed, his eyes fixing on Don as he spoke.

Don angled his body towards Mac giving him his entire attention. It was rare that Mac spoke of the conversations he had with other people. He knew if he was sharing titbits from a conversation between him and Grace it was more than likely relevant to the situation and right now he would take all the help he could get.

"Grace couldn't see herself loving anybody after that. I can't imagine what it must be like to be like to have someone you love hurt you like that. She didn't envision herself getting into a relationship. She thought nobody would want her with those kind of scars and getting involved with someone was completely out of the question. The thought of committing to anyone again made her break out in a cold sweat."

Don thought back to the early days as he listened to Mac talk. Those were the days when the two of them would fall into bed at a moments notice. Grace would simply turn up at his place and her clothes would be shed seconds later. It had felt so right making her feel good about herself in that way, he watched her flourish with confidence after every night she spent with him.

It meant that she wasn't alone in the world, that she could be desired and sexy despite her emotional misgivings. She was inventive and dynamic and he had been an excellent teacher, she had learned what it felt like to crave someone's touch so badly it made her ache. He had taught her to value herself as he had caressed, kissed and pleasured every inch of her.

In return Grace had a few tricks to teach him as well. Don had learned what it was like to love somebody else so hard it hurt sometimes, to understand what the word selfless truly meant. He had never been in love until he had kissed Grace and he knew from the second their lips met that she was the one.

Mac was still talking, Don found himself tuning back in. He was willing to accept a little advice from Mac, the other man had come through for him before when he hadn't been able to see a way out of the darkness that plagued him. He was sure the older man would come through for him again.

"What I'm trying to say is just let her take her time and ease into it. Grace lost so much of herself in her past relationship. You just have to be patient and when she's ready she'll start telling people about the two of you getting married."

Don felt the edges of his mouth beginning to twitch as he ducked his head.

"Your a wise man, you know that right?" Don said glancing up and meeting Mac's eyes as his dark fringe fell across his eyes.

Mac broke into a wide smile for the first time since this case had been blown open as he answered.

"So I've been told."


The courtroom was packed with people when Detective Don Flack slipped through the double doors at the very back of the room in order to watch the proceedings. He never indulged himself like his usually. He liked to create a barrier between himself and the job, every cop needed a buffer otherwise the job would drive them crazy. He knew detectives who had become so consumed it was like they were on call twenty four seven, he'd also seen their burn outs. The job took everything a person had to offer and most days it was thankless.

Today however, today was an exception he allowed himself to make. He wasn't here for himself, tonight he was here for Grace, to take her hand and pull her back into reality, away from this world. He had forgotten how dogged her determination was, how tirelessly she worked when a case grabbed her.

His vivid blue eyes sought her out as he surveyed the stream of people. Antonio Reye's arraignment had drawn a lot of attention from the public eye so people were crowded into the small area. He could see her mused dark hair near the front row, head raised high, gaze intent on Reyes as the other man stared back at the judge. Beside her sat Mrs Renyold's. Her shoulders were rigid, her back ram rod straight watching the judge as both of the lawyers came to stand behind their benches, the entire court room waited with bated breath for the judge's ruling.

The weight of the situation seemed to hit Reyes all at once. There was no smarmy smirk like there was the first time the other man had stood trial. There was remorse, Don could see from his place in the courtroom but it wasn't for the life he had taken, it was due to the fact he had been caught. Angell had gone undercover in the eye witness's place of residence as part of a sting operation and caught him red handed and ready to kill again.

The tension in the courtroom was so thick you could cut the atmosphere with a knife. Don found himself holding his breath as he watched Grace's fingers curling around the hand belonging to the mother of their victim as the older woman swallowed hard against the well of emotion in her chest. She was trying desperately to maintain her composure and Grace saw that struggle as it waged within her.

"Request for bail is denied."

Reyes entire body went limp at the news, his sallow features drooped in sorrow as he hung his head. Don switched his attention to Grace as Mrs Reynold's threw her arms around the younger woman's shoulders pulling her into a fierce hug. He could see the words she was mouthing as she embraced his fiancée close, grateful tears lining her red rimmed eyes.

"Thank you."

Compassion, that was the reason he had first fallen in love with Grace. The victim always came first in Grace's world, getting closure for the deceased family was what she did best. Her capacity to care left him awestruck sometimes. Other cops may have drowned in these shallow waters, investing too much of their being to break loose and save themselves but Don Flack had made a promise the night he put that ring on her finger that he would always be there to keep Grace's head well above the water.

Chapter 33

Summary:

Don makes a proposal Grace couldn't refuse.

Chapter Text

The living room of their apartment was full of unpacked boxes all stacked neatly in a variation of sizes from large on the bottom to small on the top.

Their apartment, it was strange to think that this was their space now.

In reality it had been theirs from the very beginning, Grace had always felt more comfortable here than back at her own dwelling. That space had been a transition from one place to the next. This was home, it always had been.

Don had always been the secure fixture in her life. No matter what happened he had always been there with a kind smile, a witty one liner and a touch that could calm the very worst of all her fears. He was her safe house. It was as simple as that.

"I never really realized how little stuff you actually have." Don remarked as he set another box down on the coffee table.

Grace found herself watching him as he moved methodically. The white wife-beater was taunt over his firm muscular chest as he sat down across from her on the floor on the opposite side of the coffee table. Her eyes lingered on grey shaded ethology of St Michael tattooed down his right bicep. His mother had hated it when he'd gotten the patron Saint of Police inked into his skin after graduating the academy. His father had laughed and clapped his son on the back proclaiming she should be glad that it wasn't his badge number.

He reached for the Stanley knife, flicking out the blade before slicing down the lining of the brown tape that held the box shut. Grace shrugged at his comment as she lifted something wrapped in newspaper out of the box before laying it down upon the coffee table with care.

"I got rid of a lot of stuff the first time I moved." she said quietly as she unwrapped a picture frame before raising to her feet and setting it on the wooden mantelpiece.

Don's lips curled into a small smile as he caught sight of the picture. It was photograph of the two of them encased in a silver frame. It had been taken at the bar one night by Adam when he'd been testing out his new digital camera. Grace's hand covered her mouth, but you could tell by the look in her eyes that she was trying to stifle a laugh behind her fingers. Don was looking directly into her pretty features, his hand resting over her free one as he drew her attention back to the hilarious story he had been telling at the time. He was happy and carefree in this picture, his grin was wide and infectious and Grace remembered a second later that he had erupted with an raucous snigger.

Don ducked his head, focusing his attention on the box before him as he peeled back the cardboard flaps, his eyes going wide as he surveyed the items inside.

"You know something doll, I haven't seen half the things in this box before but I know I want to." he said holding up an item of lingerie, the straps hanging by his fingertips.

The Basque looked enticing, created out of cream silk and black lace it left very little to his imagination as Don raised his eyebrows at the matching garter belt. Grace smirked as he displayed the item of clothing before delving back into the box and pulling out a midnight blue sheer baby doll.

"Huh, I forgot you hadn't seen some of my lingerie yet." she said, propping her chin up on the coffee table with her hand watching as he picked through the array of materials in delight.

"You have a whole box for lingerie?" he questioned, his hands smoothing over a deliciously tiny black g string.

"Some girls collect shoes or handbags..." Grace said, nonchalant. "I buy lingerie."

"How have I never known about this?" Don asked, shaking his head as he laid out a stunning filmy ruffle skirt that made his imagination run wild.

"We've never really had time to explore the possibilities of my lingerie drawer." Grace answered thoughtfully as she unpacked a small stack of forensic journals.

"I think I need a fashion show so I can appropriately judge each of these items." Don informed her, his fingers running over something burgundy and silky.

"Maybe we could take a few days off after the wedding, make it into a honeymoon." Grace offered distractedly as she balanced a pile of books precariously beside her.

"Wouldn't you wanna actually go away somewhere, spend that time on a beach somewhere warm or near the pool?" Don prompted, studying her intently as she crinkled her nose in consideration.

"You just like the idea of seeing me in a bikini." she accused, pointing her finger at him.

"Being holed up in the apartments looking pretty good right now." he said, using both hands to gather up the underwear, returning it back into the box. "However if we do go away you have to bring some of these."

"What do you imagine our wedding to be like?" Grace requested, placing her chin upon her hand as she addressed him. "I know you've given me free reign to do whatever I want to but what would you like?"

"Honestly?" he asked her, selecting another larger box and using the Stanley knife to open it to find it filled with DVDs. "I just want you to be happy and have everything that you deserve. I don't want you looking back in twenty years time and regretting the fact you didn't have a big white wedding, or a horse drawn carriage, or whatever crap it is that girls like."

"So you don't want a church wedding? Or to look like you've just stepped off the cover of GQ magazine?" Grace persisted.

She was paying more attention to his answers now and he could see the cogs were turning in her head the way they always did when she got an idea that she liked. Her eyes were glinting with a mischievousness that could mean he was either in for a world of trouble or an afternoon of fun.

"Doll, I would get married looking the way we do now so long as I'd get to call you my wife." he informed her, organising the DVDs into piles.

"Why don't we?" she prompted.

"You want to get married in jeans?" Don responded, his lips twitching at the idea.

"No I mean right now." Grace responded.

There was something in the tone of her voice that made him focus completely on her. He frowned taking in the sincerity on her features as she waited patiently for him to absorb the idea.

"Your serious?" he asked her outright.

"You can call Danny and I can call Adam have the both of them meet us at city hall." Grace said in a matter of fact manner tone.

"I thought you wanted a honeymoon?" Don reminded her.

"We can go on vacation instead." Grace dismissed with the wave of her hand.

"What about your mom and all those bridal magazines she's been forcing down our throats?" Don pointed out.

"Do I look like the type of girl who wants a summer wedding at the Waldorf in a huge frou frou dress?" she asked him knowingly.

"Is this what you want?" Don requested, his vivid blue eyes on her intently.

"I want you." Grace said earnestly. "Moving in isn't enough for me, I want to be able to tell people your my husband and I want people to know that I'm your wife."

"I know a judge that owes me a favour, we can get a judicial and get the marriage licence pushed through today." Don told her, removing his cellphone from his pocket and holding it up for her to see. "Your sure you want to do this today?"

Grace fixed him with an even stare as he studied her intently searching for any doubts as her perfect mouth formed the words he was dying to hear.

"Don I have never been surer of anything in my life."


The sun was shining on the steps of City Hall as the two of them stood there waiting on their friends. Grace was standing on the step above Don, even in the black stiletto heels it barely brought her to match his six foot plus height.

Don's warm, firm hands came to rest on the waist of her cream coloured dress helping her keep balance as she looked over his shoulder. She was wearing a stunning lace strapless dress she had bought for the Winter Ball last year and never gotten around to attending. The material hugged her feminine curves flouncing out at the hips and coming to flutter just above her knees in the cool breeze that blew through the area. Clasped in her delicate hand was a small bouquet of purple irises, her favourite flowers. Don had purchased them at the same time she was handing over her credit card to the nearby jewellers in order to buy their silver wedding bands.

"No sign of them yet." Grace said, her hands were on Don's shoulders as she drew back and stared into his vibrant blue eyes.

He was wearing the black pinstriped suit he coveted for special occasions. It was tailored to the shape of his body making him look like even more defined and handsome than usual. He'd matched a silver tie with a crisp white shirt underneath the jacket highlighting his dark Irish features.

"They'll be here." he assured her, his hands cupping her face, thumbs smoothing over the soft pink blush of her cheeks.

Grace looked radiant, she was glowing with a contentment he had never seen before. The way she was looking at him made his heart pound a little faster in his chest. He could see the strength of her love for him shining in her eyes as she laced her fingers around the back of his neck drawing him even closer. The irises tickled the skin there as she kept a firm grip of the pretty little flowers.

"I love you." she whispered, her lips brushing over his lightly as she spoke.

Her future was in this man, every single hope and dream Grace could have ever wished for was in her hands right now. When she'd woken up this morning she knew the time was right. Staring at Don as he slept beside her made her question everything that was holding her back. This man was her soul mate, she couldn't breath without him, she couldn't function.

"Love you too." he mumbled against her mouth as their lips met.

Every kiss they shared was more memorable than the last, she couldn't get enough of him. The taste of him underneath her lips made her want him even more. His touch was so loving, so gentle as his fingertips traced the apple of her cheek.

"Hey love birds break it up." Danny's voice caused the two of them to break apart as they came to face the two closest friends they had in the whole entire world.

Adam was a step behind Danny, flustered with exertion as he studied the two of them in concern. Grace guessed from the fact he was panting that he run all the way from the Crime Lab across the street, he hadn't even grabbed his jacket to cover the blue plaid shirt he was wearing on the way out.

"What's going on?"Adam exclaimed, his azure eyes darting from Grace to Don and then to Danny. "You said there was an emergency."

His eyebrows furrowed as he tilted his head at Grace's attire, taking it in a piece at a time as he struggled to make sense of what was happening. The two of them didn't look injured or scared or alarmed in anyway. In fact from the twinkle in Grace's eyes as her lips pursed together he would say that she looked happy.

"Your wearing a dress, you never wear dresses. Not that you don't look good in a dress, because phew if I was Flack right now..." Adam trailed off catching himself as he folded his arms over his chest and cleared his throat. "So what's up?"

"Adam buddy," Danny said clapping his hand upon the other man's shoulder. "I think we've been duped. Am I right?"

"We thought the word emergency would get the two of you down here quicker." Don informed the two of them before casting a glance and a smirk at Grace. "Looks like you were right."

"Well what are we doing here?" Adam requested with a light-hearted chuckle at the ridiculous idea that was forming in his head. "Because it looks like the two of you are about to get married."

"Blame her." Don said leaning into Grace and nudging her with his shoulder.

"Have the two of you got a bun in the oven?" Danny asked bluntly, his cornflower blue eyes dropping to rest on Grace's stomach regarding it in suspicion.

Grace put her hand over her abdomen to protect it from Danny's penetrating gaze before she rolled her eyes, slightly offended at his suggestion.

"There's no bun, or baby and seriously Danny I am not a kitchen appliance." Grace snarked at him. "I love Don and he loves me. I don't want wait any longer to do this. Now just feels right and you two are the most important people we've got in this city, we want you to do this with us."

"So cut us a little slack and be our witnesses will ya?" Don implored, causing Danny to break into a grin.

"Better late than never right?" Danny beamed as he stepped forward and kissed Grace upon the cheek. "You look after him." he whispered in her ear.

Grace nodded her understanding as their eyes met. Danny was trusting her to do right by his best friend. The other man had seen a lot of heartache over the years and Danny had been there to pick up the pieces when she had been the one creating the problems.

"I'll do everything in my power to make him happy." she promised as Danny drew away.

"We're finally here." Danny announced to Don with a huge smile upon his face as he embraced the other man, before the two of them began to ascend the steps.

"Your Ma's gonna kill you you know?" Adam told Grace, holding out his arm for her to take.

Grace slipped her arm through his, her head coming to rest on his shoulder at the thought of informing her parents that she had gotten hitched without consulting them.

"Maybe I just won't tell her for a little while." Grace pondered as Adam tilted his head down towards her.

"I'm proud of you for getting this far." Adam said quietly as they took each step one at a time.

"It means a lot coming from you." she murmured. "I thought I'd be nervous or freaking out by now but doing this with Don... It feels like this is what I'm meant to do, like it's always been on the cards for the two of us."

"Did your psychic tell you that?" Adam teased referring to the tarot card she kept in a shoe box of keepsakes.

He yelped as Grace punched him in the arm, drawing the attention of Don and Danny who were waiting patiently at the top of the stairs, Don tapping his watch.

"Be good to her." Adam told Don sternly, his hand coming to rest on Grace's lower back guiding her towards her awaiting husband to be.

"I've been waiting six years to do this." Don returned as he met Adam's azure eyes. "I will do everything that I can to keep that smile on her face."

With that the four of them stepped inside.

Chapter 34

Summary:

Don and Grace tie the knot.

Chapter Text

Marriage was a big thing to Don Flack. Ever since his teenage years he had proclaimed whenever the topic was brought up that he wasn't the marrying kind. He had spent decades playing the field moving from one gratifying, short-lived relationship to the next. He had never imagined a day that he would end up standing before a judge holding the hands of a woman who was so awe inspiring that it simply took his breath away.

Don knew marriage had never been on the cards for Grace before this either. Years ago she had told him she didn't believe in it. She hadn't seen the point considering forty percent of all marriages in the U.S ended with divorce and the others, considering the amount of domestic abuse calls the NYPD got weren't much of a foundation to place your trust upon.

Yet here they were in the middle of a ceremony taking the vows that both of them had so venomously contested in their earlier lives and the whole thing felt so right it was hard to believe the two of them shouldn't have partaken in this event a long time ago.

Grace looked so breath taking standing there before him. He couldn't believe how lucky he was. This was the woman that has stood beside him through thick and thin, who'd calmed his temper and soothed his nightmares, who battled his fears and cheered for his triumphs. It was hard to believe that the two of them were really here, that this wasn't some crazy dream he was having.

Grace's thumb trailed lightly over the arch of his knuckles bringing his attention back to the ceremony. Her expressive grey eyes were on his and in them he could see every want, need and desire he had ever had fulfilled. She was his sanctuary, the safe place he went to after an unbearable day, in short she was home.

When he was wrapped in her arms or simply standing close by he was overcome with a sense of peace. There was a serenity in her that he could never have imagined existed until he experienced it and now that he had, Don knew he could never let it go.

This was the moment the two of them had fought for. Don expected to feel nervous but instead he was plagued by excitement. Grace was still here, she hadn't changed her mind at the last minute or withdrawn her offer on the steps the way he had suspected she might. She was the impulsive one in their relationship and he was born from logic.

Being here with Grace made sense to him in a manner he could only understand to be fate. Today was the day. There was no purpose in waiting any longer. Their world was filled with uncertainty and he needed to take a step into the future.

"This is it." he whispered in a hushed tone only she could hear. "Any final words?"

"I do." Grace said out loud, quirking an eyebrow in challenge as she slipped the thick silver wedding band over onto Don's finger.

He knew what she was saying with that one look. She had made her commitment, she was all in. The question she was raising in the silence in between them was reflected in her gaze as she studied him with an intensity she reserved usually for their cases.

"Do you Donald take Grace to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, to cherish and to love? From this day forward, forsaking all others? Until you are only separated by death?"

He could tell she was waiting with bated breath. The two of them were laying down all the obstacles between them, they had strived so hard to get to this point and it was hard for her to believe that this moment was finally here, that were was finally someone willing to take everything she had to give and turn it into something beautiful.

"I do." he said fiercely taking hold of her third finger delicately and sliding the smaller circle so it sat just above her engagement ring.

"You may kiss the bride."

And that was exactly what Don did.


They had been husband and wife a grand total of two hours by the time the two of them ended up outside Reilly's Bar still clad in their attire from the wedding. Danny had returned the favour by texting each of them a nine one one text informing them to arrive at the bar at exactly five pm.

In the time in between Grace had taken Don to the little Italian place nearby where they had shared their first date. They had recounted that experience over coffee and canollis, Grace admitting the sheer extent of her nerves that day when she had turned up for their date.

"I can't believe that Adam put our wedding pictures on Twitter." Grace uttered, holding up her phone to show Don as they lingered outside of the bar, fingers entwined.

"I can't believe how great they turned out considering he took them on his Iphone." Don commented, tilting his head to get a better look. "Things would probably go over a lot smoother with your mom if you put one in a frame when we tell her."

"I like the way you say it like that, 'we'." Grace informed him, snapping her phone shut and slipping it back into her purse.

"Till death do us part doll." Don responded, waiting patiently for Grace to stop fumbling with the zipper on the cream bag. "Although your mother's reaction is probably gonna fall in the for better or worst category."

"I've heard of bridezilla before but the whole thing with the wedding made her into momzilla. She's one of the reasons I was so reluctant to start spreading the news of our engagement. She was practically planning the whole event for us. Pops just gave us both a bear hug and a congratulations, that's what I love about my father. For mom it's all about the wedding like what comes afterwards in the marriage doesn't really matter." Grace explained as looped the strap of the miniature bag around her wrist before seeking out his hand again.

"You are her first born and her only daughter. She just wanted to make it special" Don pointed out, clasping her hand snugly in his. "Although I will admit that thirty minute phone call discussing dress blues last week made me want to slam the phone down."

"I don't even know the majority of people she was putting on that preliminary guest list. I thought some of those family members were dead, and the others she wanted to come over from Ireland wouldn't have lasted on the flight over." Grace remarked darkly, pulling a face that made Don snigger.

"You are awful, you know that right?" Don informed her, using her hand to tug her to a halt as they reached the doorway of the bar.

"Please." Grace drew the word out as she rolled her eyes. "Isn't that one of the reasons you married me? You need someone to keep up with you, whose not afraid to speak their mind."

"It helps that you make great coffee and you look sexy wearing my shirts." he told her, as Grace 's fingers grasped the labels of his suit jacket drawing him closer.

The two were within inches from each other. Don's hands came to rest upon his wife's hips as he tilted his head down to look into her dazzling grey eyes. Wife, he liked the sound of the word in his head and on his lips. Grace leaned in just that little bit closer, making him groan as her lithe body rubbed up along the length of his tall frame. He had been itching to consummate their marriage since they had left the restaurant. Knowing that she was his wasn't enough, he wanted to spend the evening making her whimper his name over and over again until it was too much for either of them to stand.

"You know I married you for your charm and of course the deliciously wicked things your hands and mouth can do when their left unoccupied." she murmured against his lips.

"Keep talking like that and the two of us will be consummating this marriage out here on the side walk." he informed her, feeling himself starting to stir.

"You know I am always open to new ideas." Grace said with a teasing lilt as she drew away, rising her eyebrows suggestively.

"You are going to be the death of me woman." Don accused with a groan, grasping her hand as she tried to step away.

"But wouldn't it be a wonderful way to go." Grace pouted before pushing open the door to the bar and tugging him in behind her.

Chapter 35

Summary:

Don and Grace celebrate their wedding day.

Chapter Text

The door had barely come to shut behind them when their conversation was drowned out by a sudden abrupt cheer that made Grace's ears practically ring. Tiny white and pink confetti hearts rained down on them as the two of them stood there frozen in shock by the scene before them.

The entire team was here along with Angell and several members from Don's squad room who had managed to get away. Grace was swept away by a wave of emotion as their group of friends swarmed around them, placing kisses upon her cheek as they gave her their congratulations. She had never seen so many people smiling before. It was a surprise to see so many people happy for them. Their relationship meant the world to the both of them, she didn't realize that it had become a talisman for other people.

As Sheldon was telling her when he clasped both of her hands in his, their union gave other people hope. Getting married today showed them what could happen if they took a chance, that it was possible to find something solid to hold onto in this crazy mixed up world. His words meant a lot to Grace, it showed his faith not only in her but in love as well.

Everybody here was showing their support by celebrating this marriage and Grace knew as she was pulled into yet another spirited hug, that no matter what happened these people were her family and it would stay like that until the end of time.

"You should see your faces." Adam said peering at them from behind his Iphone as he snapped another picture.

Grace wasn't sure how it happened but somewhere along the way he had become the designated wedding photographer. She hadn't thought about taking pictures when they had decided to take this leap, she was glad that Adam had taken the task upon himself. She wanted something special to remember this day by, also a wedding album may just pacify her mother enough so that the woman would start speaking to her again.

Grace knew the fall out their little wedding would cause when her mom did find out. She had envisioned something overblown and costly for the day her only daughter got hitched. She had tried telling her mother for years that she wasn't the kind of girl that wore dresses and studied ballet. Her entire life had been a battle, fighting and compromising with the woman in order to make her own choices.

In high school she attended track meets and baseball games instead of the drama and dance lessons her mother hoped for. She took after her father for her athletic headstrong streak and he was supportive and proud of her nature. Grace knew he would understand the reasoning behind her actions today, it was her mom she was worried about. The woman had a temper to be rivalled with.

"Getting everybody here was an act of God on my part no?" Danny said, grasping Grace's hand in his and guiding her through the rabble of people to the front of the bar.

"I have no idea how you managed it Messer but I am very impressed." Grace told him as he placed his calloused hands upon her shoulders lightly and angled her to face the table that the team had gathered around.

Grace burst out laughing at the sight before her. The cake in front of her was clearly a DIY job, she guessed that Danny had purchased a large Victoria sponge cake and a smaller one to place on top. On the very peak of the home made wedding cake there were two Lego Policemen with their arms raised up in the air as if in cheer.

"This has you written all over it Danny." Grace smirked as she shook her head. "You do know that's two men on the top there?"

"The toy store doesn't stock Lego girls." Danny informed her, wrapping his toned arm around her shoulders, drawing her into a one armed hug. "Anybody looking at you right now Gracie can see you are anything but a guy."

Grace placed a butterfly kiss upon Danny's stubbly cheek as he embraced her.

"Thank you for all this." she murmured, his arms wrapping around her body and squeezing her tightly as the two of them stayed like that for a moment.

"You two deserve the best." he said quietly, his mouth next to her ear.

She understood the emotion behind those words as he spoke. The three of them had been as thick as thieves in the earlier years. It had always been her, Danny and Don out on the town, in the bar, at sports games. They had had each others backs over the years in both a professional and personal capacity, they knew each other's secrets and they had talked about their downfalls.

Danny was her secret keeper as much as she was his, she would never tell anybody how she had pestered Danny into getting help after Ruben had been killed. The two of them would never talk about the night she had found him on the roof of his building with his gun in his hand as he contemplated ending it all because his guilt was crippling him. Just like Danny would never mention the day he found her in tears of despair, sobbing in the locker room after the explosion Don had been caught up in. They had seen each other at their weakest and in the end that bonded the two of them for life.

"Thank you." she whispered as her eyes grew moist at the sincerity of his words.

She drew away sniffing, putting a hand over her mouth to prevent the surge of raw emotion that overwhelmed her. Danny's thumb chased away a stray tear as Grace struggled to compose herself.

"Hey now, this is supposed to be the happiest day of your life." he said softly, his cornflower blue eyes fixing on hers as a small smile marred his lips.

"It is." she murmured, flapping her hand in front of her face in a bid to stop the tears. "I just can't believe how blessed I am."

"When I look at the two of you, I can't help wanting what you have." Danny said, leaning back against the bar as his eyes landed on his friend as the other man kinked glasses with some of the guys from his squad.

"Your worth it you know." Grace said softly as her hand came to rest on his arm. Danny stared down at it as her thumb smoothed across his bare wrist. "I know you think your not but trust me any woman you choose to settle down with will be lucky to have you."

"Do you ever wonder why the two of you didn't get it together before? I mean six years, I don't understand how the two of you didn't get wild and crazy in that time." Danny responded changing the subject.

"Bad timing." Grace told him as the bartender offered her a glass Malibu and Lemonade on the house. "When he kissed me that night at the bar I wasn't ready. Jack had just left for San Francisco, Don was still reeling from the Truby case and then the thing with the Wilder Gang..." Grace trailed off as her gaze lingered on Danny's fingers at the memories of that day. "There was never time."

"You made it though." Danny reminded her as he held out his glass in toast.

Grace kinked her glass against his.

"We made it."


The choices were limited as Danny scoped through the songs on the jukebox. He wanted Don and Grace to have a song that the two of them would appreciate, one that that wasn't a cliché so they could remember today fondly. He pressed the button skimming through the songs quickly before flicking to the next disk dissatisfied. His cornflower blue eyes settled on a Lifehouse song he remembered from a life time ago. It had been something Aiden had used to play in their time together and he thought it must be a sign since he had never noticed it in the jukebox before now.

He inserted the coin before making the song selection and traipsing back to the table where their group were gathered around. He tapped each member of the couple on the shoulder, claiming their attention before indicating towards the empty space in front of the jukebox.

"It's time for your first dance." Danny announced.

Grace tilted her head towards Don, uncertainty flickering in her grey eyes as he took her hand in his and he rose to his feet. Grace wasn't a good dancer and he knew she had a hell of a lot of reservations about embarrassing herself in front of their friends.

"It'll just be you and me doll." he reassured her in a hushed voice as he led her towards the dance floor.

"I'm going to embarrass you." she told him outright. "Last time I danced like this was at Prom and I sucked at it then too."

"Don't worry I got you." Don murmured into her ear as he drew her close to him.

His hand was warm and reassuring on her waist as her free hand came to rest upon his shoulder. They began to sway together as the music began to play. Don's face was barely inches away from hers as she met his startling blue gaze. Every single tension she held drained from her body as his hips moved against hers.

"It just feels weird dancing with so many people watching." Grace admitted, surprising herself with a laugh as Don twirled her.

"But now your starting to have fun right?" he asked her with an arched eyebrow and a devil may care smile.

"You were right you are a good dancer." Grace complimented, her fingers linking at the back of his neck as his hands caressed her lower back through the material of her dress.

"Whenever I hear this song it makes me think of you." Don confessed, bending his dark head close so she could see the earnest expression upon his handsome features.

Nothing else mattered any more. There was only the two of them moving together in this moment caught up in each other. Grace couldn't describe the torrent of feelings that was raging through her at this very moment. There was so much love in Don's eyes as he looked at her. The sensation of this experience, of being married to him was fulfilling in a such a way she had never imagined it possible. She had never considered herself as possessive but in this very second she could see her own thoughts reflected in him. He was hers and she was his. Nothing could change that now. She would protect and adore him with every inch of her being.

"You know whenever I thought about this it was always with you." she found herself confiding. "I could never see myself with anyone else even before the two of us got it together"

"I know, whenever you looked at me I could see it in your eyes. I always knew Grace. I was just too scared to do anything about it." Don confessed, a tiny smile twitching at his lips as he thought of those days. "We thought we knew everything back then. We were morons."

"I know it makes me happy when you call me your wife." Grace informed him with a smile that made her entire face light up.

Don never wanted it to end. The contentment he felt was undeniable. He hadn't been this happy in years and he knew it was because of the strong, tenacious woman residing in his arms, the one he was proud to call his wife.

Chapter 36

Summary:

A face from Grace's past makes a reappearance.

Chapter Text

The crime scene in the Hotel Tribeca was one of the worst that Grace had ever attended, second only to the Shane Case murders. It was a struggle to take in the extent of the horror all at once as she hesitated in the doorway surveying the scene. It was a massacre, four young adults, two boys and two women were lying in pools of their own congealing blood. There were hack marks in each of their victims, slices from what she assumed was the missing fire axe from further down the hallway. They were all lying in different positions, Grace stepped over the dark haired man lying face down on the beech laminate flooring closest to the door before setting down a yellow plastic number beside his body.

Copper twanged in her mouth as she took a step another step, the stench was in her nose already flooding her senses as she crouched beside a young girl on her side, arm twisted over her body in a protective stance. The woman had stood no chance against the power of the killer's swing, the axe had caught her in the back of the head splitting her skull wide open.

The art deco brown and duck egg coloured rug in the centre of the room squelched underfoot as she tread lightly across it, flecks of red were already staining her baby blue booties as she heard Danny's intake of breath behind her. She ignored it. He had allowed her on numerous occasions to make the same concession. The two of them were professionals but sometimes Grace had to admit there was a scene that caught you completely off guard.

The second male and also the third victim was laying on his back, his skin was a waxy shade of white, his lips apart as if the last words he meant to utter were caught somewhere in the brief space between life and death. She could see the muscle transcended in his chest through the frayed edges of his grey T-shirt. He had been one of the last to die.

The final victim was also lying on her back. Her glassy dark eyes were staring vacantly at the ceiling, a trickle of blood was leaking from her lips tracing a pathway down her cheek before soaking into the carpet underneath. She had been cut down across the stomach, her intestines were exposed and lacerated making Grace's stomach churn at the knowledge that her death had been slower, more antagonized than all of the others.

Her attention came to focus on the blood spatter from the massacre as Danny unpacked the camera they used to record their crime scenes. It was everywhere, arterial spray was splashed across the beige walls as if it were nothing more than crimson paint. It was hard to tell what blood belonged to who and she knew on her crime scene sketch that she would have to take note of every single blitz of body fluid that massed the area.

Allegedly they already had the perp in custody. James Roberts had been tasered by the unis after he was caught running down the main street, covered head to toe in smears of blood, swinging a fire axe at oncoming traffic. He hadn't obeyed their order to stop and had been suitably subdued. She'd heard that they'd had to transport the perp in a body bag in order to preserve the evidence. Grace shuddered at that thought.

Grace rose her head, tilting it towards the ceiling as her eyes focused on the cast off pattern flickered across the white ceiling. There was a lot of rage in this killing, to take down four people with a fire axe with this much ferocity was the work of a seriously sick mind.

"Hard to believe one fucked up kid did all this." she murmured to Danny as he came to stand beside her angling the camera in his hands to take a picture of the pattern.

"Fucked up kid with a fire axe." Danny corrected, lowering the camera before taking the yellow markers out of her hands and setting one down next to their third victim.

In a way the two of them were lucky, Sheldon was on his way to come help out with the documenting and collection of this scene. Between the three of them the workload would be cut down by half, something that Grace herself was very grateful for.

It was Don who had the unfortunate task of interviewing James Roberts. Him and Mac had been the first responders to this abysmal crime scene and she knew that despite the fact her husband was as seasoned as they come that this scene had unnerved him in the same manner in which it had shaken both her and Danny.

Stella had drawn the short straw and taken it upon herself to process the evidence still attached to James Roberts person. As far as Grace knew this included messy bloody hand prints that were patch worked all over his half nude body as well as a DNA swab from his mouth. Being in the same room as the person who did this would put the fear of God into Grace and she wasn't ashamed to admit that.

"This is awful." Grace uttered, crouching down beside their remaining vic and placing the marker next to her corpse.

"Whenever there's something this messed up there's usually drugs involved." Danny commented, with a shake of his head as he snapped a shot of the splatter pattern on the wall.

They were interrupted by the sound of Grace's phone ringing from the back pocket of her jeans. She removed her phone for a second, casting a glance at the caller I.D before flicking the Purple Blackberry onto vibrate.

"You wanna explain that?" Danny requested, his cornflower blue eyes fixed on her curiously as he held the camera between both hands.

Grace shrugged as she stepped over one of the bodies to set a marker down alongside an authentic looking Walter PPK, she could tell from the plastic valve on the back that it was in fact a water gun.

"Not really." Grace said with a sigh.

"Uh huh, the two of you fighting already?" Danny asked as Grace moved across the room, distributing the numerical markers as Danny took pictures.

"God no." Grace responded, pulling a face at the thought. "The two of us are better than ever."

"Your mom?" Danny persisted, watching Grace's reactions intently.

"My mom's still not speaking to me after the whole finding out about the wedding over Facebook thing." Grace informed Danny before kneeling down alongside of her kit and clinking the metal catches open.

"To be fair Adam didn't know your mom was on Facebook." Danny pointed out, taking a picture of the water pistol as Grace withdrew her fingerprint powder and dust brush.

"I don't blame Adam." Grace said with a shrug of her shoulders.

"You know if I can tell some thing's going on then you know Flack will too right?" Danny submitted into the air between them.

Grace rolled her eyes skyward, biting her lower lip in agitation as she stared at the blood spots on the ceiling.

"It's Jack." Grace muttered, not daring to chance a glance at the expression on Danny's features.

"Faraday?" Danny exclaimed, his attention fully fixated on Grace as she dropped to her knees in front of the door hand that led into the bathroom.

"Yea." she said flatly, her voice purposely devoid of emotion as she twisted her fingerprint brush lightly in the compact of dust before using her breath to blow off the excess.

"You know why he's calling don't you?" Danny questioned, watching as Grace twirled and twisted the brush between her fingertips to sprinkle the powder over the prints.

"Why do you think I'm not answering?" she responded, hand dipping into her kit to remove the fingerprint tape so she could take a hard copy of the print away with them.

"Jesus how long has it been?" Danny asked her, shaking his head in disbelief.

Grace paused for a second, backtracking over the past few years of her life as she actually thought over the answer to that question.

"Two years more or less since we last saw each other. Less since we talked." she informed Danny, using her forefinger to smooth over the tape in order iron out any ripples.

"So he doesn't know about you and Flack?" Danny queried, threading his arm through the strap of the camera so it came to hang off of his shoulder as he focused on collating the information he was gradually weaning from her.

"I was talking about Will the last time we chatted." Grace told Danny, tearing the tape from the handle, running her thumb over it to seal the print inside. "Perfect."

"You should tell Flack." Danny told her sternly. "You know what he's like when it comes to Faraday."

Grace slipped the fingerprint inside her kit before withdrawing a set of different sized evidence bags from the bottom of her case.

"Don's like that with the FBI in general." she dismissed with a wave of her hand. "It took him long enough to warm up to Beth and she's as genuine as they come."

"Grace." Danny tutted as she rose to her feet. "You know better than that."

Grace pursed her lips together as she caught sight of the disapproval in Danny's cornflower blue eyes. He was right in a way, she wasn't sure how she always ended up in this position defending Jack after all these years. What he had done to Don was underhanded and ambitious yet she was glad in a way. If he hadn't claimed the credit for that case he would never have broken it off and rode that promotion all the way to San Francisco.

"Your right." Grace muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I wasn't being fair. I'll tell him."

"Now your thinking like a married woman." Danny teased, slipping the camera off of his shoulder in order to pack it away in the carry case they used to transport it.

The two of them worked the rest of the scene in a companionable silence lost in their own thoughts and memories.

Chapter 37

Summary:

Don and Grace are like passing ships in the night.

Chapter Text

The kid was high, Flack had no doubt about that as he reviewed the other man seated across from him with a coldness that came from the depths of his soul. He was revolted at the sight of the perp in front of him. It took a twisted son of a bitch to hack up four people with the kind of indifference he was seeing right now. It was cases like this that made him angry, people under the influence of narcotics blamed the drugs for their actions or in some cases the booze but the truth was the impulse was there the whole entire time if they looked hard enough.

James Roberts was naked from the waist up, the only item of clothing he appeared to be wearing was a pair of dark denim jeans. No socks or shoes. There was a bloody smear across his naked chest shaped like a hand print. There was more on the underside of his chin, and what looked like a finger print just over his left eyebrow. His dark eyes were wide and red rimmed, his pupils were dilated almost swallowing up the hazel colouring. Despite the fact he was handcuffed to the bars of a mental chair James had take it upon himself to rock back and forth, causing a scraping sound to pierce through Flack's brain every time the chair jerked forward.

Flack was sitting on a chair he had turned the opposite way around his muscular thighs straddling it as he leaned his forearms on the frame. His police badge was dangling around his neck from a silver chain over the black button up shirt he was wearing. The silver wedding band glistened proudly on his finger.

"Clowns." Flack snarled indignant "That's your official story? Clowns?"

Jame's eyes slide sidelong so he was focused on Flack, his voice lowering as if he was telling the other man something confidential.

"They were trying to kill me." James whispered, his head lolling forward.

"Oh." Flack mimicked, raising his hands in mock understanding."So they were the Homicidal on the inside kinda clowns?"

Flack rose to his feet as his irritation at the situation broadened. He couldn't believe the sheer audacity of this kid. Four people had been viciously murdered and he was sitting there chattering on about killer clowns.

"Hold on a second while I put out an APB for two guys with fizzy pink hair and big red noses." he snapped, gesturing at his face.

"They stuck a gun in my mouth." James stuttered, screwing his eyes tightly shut as he spoke.

"This gun?" Flack requested, picking up the evidence bag containing the water pistol and holding it up James to see before slamming it back down on the table in frustration. "This is a water gun filled with tequila. Now what do you have to say about that?"

Jame's mouth flapped open and closed but no words were emitted. He was rocking harder now, a sheen of sweat was breaking out across his body, glistening from the dim overhead light in the interrogation room.

"I don't know." James mumbled. "I just don't know. That's the last thing that I remember."

"What drugs are you on James? What did you take?" Flack asked severely, his temper reaching boiling point.

The interrogation was as good as wasted. There was no point interviewing this kid when he was trashed like this. His answers were incoherent and fabricated from hallucinations due to whatever narcotics were running rampant through his system. LSD was Flack's guess as he watched the other man literally sweat.

"I didn't take anything." James protested, his eyes lowered sensing Flack's imminent explosion.

"Enough with the lying." Flack shouted, using his hand to cut the other man off. "Enough!"

"We have you drivers licence James." Flack informed him, jabbing his finger at the younger man. "We know that your were up there celebrating your twenty first birthday with your friends. Things got out of control so what happened?"

Despite his wrestling emotions, his words were controlled and concise. It was horrific to see the kind of blood shed that had gone on in that hotel room. The blood splashed up the walls, the twisted silent scream on the features of one of the girls as her guts hung out of her stomach. To commit that kind of destructive act on your friends... Something must have made this kid snap.

There had to be a logical reason for all of this but as far as Flack could see there wasn't one. This kid had tripped out on some LSD and had gone axe happy on all of his friends before turning himself loose onto the streets of New York.

"I remember..." James trailed off as he rose his head. His blood shot eyes rolled upwards reminded Flack of Jack Nicholson in The Shining as he grinned that crooked smile.

It was unsettling to be on the receiving end of that look. There was no emotion behind it just a deep seated indifference. Flack placed his palms flat on the table as leaned forward staring intently into the other man's eyes as he awaited his answer.

"I was underwater." James uttered as if in memory.

His eyes began to dart around the room, his head tilting towards the light bulb swinging above them as he spoke. Flack drew back, clenching his jaw and turning away from the other man pressing a hand to his forehead.

"Swimming with the sea horses and the starfish and..." James stumbled over the words. "Ask Mark."

His eyes were shining, a manic smirk was etched into his features as Flack turned around to face him, hands resting upon his hips.

"Mark's dead." Flack glowered as he spread out the photographs from the manilla file out in front of James.

It was a grotesque freak show of images from the crime scene back at the Hotel Tribeca, there were close up of wounds, of the victims faces locked in their final moments of death.

"They're all dead James because you hacked your friends to death." Flack said solemnly as he placed his hands back down on the table. "Now tell me why!"

"I'm cold." James whimpered abruptly, his chin trembling as he stared back at Flack. "It's really cold in here."

Flack shook his head in disgust as he gathered up the photographs and slipped them back into the manilla folder. There was no use continuing with this line of questioning, James Roberts barely had any idea what was going on around him, let alone a comprehension of the trouble he was in.

Flack rubbed a hand over his tired features as he tucked the manilla folder underneath his arm. Depending on the dosage James had received he could be like this for the next twelve hours.

Flack pulled open the door and exited the interrogation room before checking his watch. His shift had ended two hours ago and he was beyond exhausted. He handed the file off to Angell so she could take a crack at their suspect before pulling on his black leather jacket and withdrawing his phone from the interior pocket. He had a text from Grace, a ghost of a smile peaked across his lips as he read her simple statement.

Missed you last night, x.

Flack's thumb clicked the reply button on the plastic keypad before he typed out his own message.

Gonna miss you tonight doll.

He hit send, slipping his phone back into pocket before heading home to his empty bed for the third night in a row.

Chapter 38

Summary:

Adam tells Danny a secret.

Chapter Text

It was eight am and Don had spent the night alone twisted up in the white sheets. He had managed to grab a few broken hours of sleep on and off throughout the time but he never slept well when Grace was on nights. He could tell from the tangle of sheets on Grace's side when he'd walked in and that she had trouble sleeping too. She didn't adjust well to working nights despite the fact their bedroom had heavy set blinds to block out the light.

To give her her due she never once protested or complained. It was part of their job, she accepted that. Don would just be glad when this week was over so the two of them could actually spend some time together. For now he would take all the stolen moments he could get.

Hence why he was stepping off the elevator right now, a cardboard cup carrier in his hand from Starbucks and a small take out bag in the other.

The blinds to Grace and Danny's shared office were open and Don could see his wife on the opposite side of the glass sitting at her desk. Her head was tilted back towards the ceiling as she rubbed both hands across her face. He could already hear her groan as he opened the door to her office shutting it quietly behind him. Her head jerked towards him as she pulled her hands away from her weary features.

"You look like hell." Don stated as he set down the carrier of Starbucks coffee.

Grace raked her hands through her dark hair drawing it away from her face before tying it into a small ponytail at the nape of her neck with the hair elastic she had secured to her wrist. Her black eye liner was smudged underneath her tired eyes, Don reached out with his thumb and gently rubbed away a smear of the dark Kohl from the curve of her cheek.

"It's everywhere isn't it?" she sighed, disentangling the coffee cups from the cardboard holder before chucking it into the bin at the edge of her desk.

"You fell asleep at your desk again huh?" Don smiled instead of answering her question as used his fingertips to nudge the bag of croissants towards her. "Breakfast."

"Sheldon woke me up five minutes ago." Grace confirmed, taking off the lid to her coffee cup before taking a deep gulp.

The expression on her pretty features was one of supreme bliss as she swallowed the coffee.

"God, I love you so much right now." she muttered, setting her coffee down and tugging open the bag of croissants before breaking into a wide smile. "Apricot jam too!"

She held up the tiny glass pot of the orange substance and a plastic knife in delight. Just seeing her light up like this made the extra effort he'd gone to this morning well worth it. Don took a slug from his coffee cup watching as she smeared the jam along the top of her croissant.

"I was going to come see if you were free for lunch today." Grace informed him before taking a bite out of her croissant and moaning in joy.

"Depends where we are with the case but otherwise I'm up for it." Don told her, wrapping both hands around his coffee cup. "Did Mac clear that week we were looking at taking off next month?"

"He did." Grace responded. "What about your Lieutenant?"

"Jess said she'd cover so there wasn't anyway he could really say no." Don said, raising his eyebrows as a smile began to to curve across his handsome features. "A week to ourselves in Barcelona. Dad's friend refuses to charge us for the villa, says we're doing him a favour by checking in on the place while he'd visiting the States."

"I can not wait!" Grace exclaimed excitedly. "I've wanted to go to Barcelona for the longest time."

"Your gonna drag me on all sorts of historical trips aren't you?" Don said, narrowing his eyes playfully.

Grace feigned an expression of innocence before holding up her hands in surrender.

"One or two but I promise if you indulge me I will make it very much worth your while." Grace purred arching her eyebrow suggestively.

"How can I deny you anything when you talk like that doll?" Don asked, his cheek resting against his hand as he looked at her with that boyish grin.

Grace shrugged simply.

"You can't."

Don checked his watch before pulling a face.

"I have gotta go check in." he told her.

"Well thank you very much for breakfast Detective Flack." Grace said raising to her feet so the two of them were on the same level.

Her palms came to rest on Don's firm chest as Grace stood up on tip toes and pressed a light kiss to his mouth. He savoured the moment her soft lips brushed his, the way she tasted and the familiar sensation of her body against his if only for a brief second. They didn't do public displays of affection at work very often, they both agreed it was unprofessional.

"You are very welcome." he murmured, his eyes still closed as she drew back.

"I best get back to work." Grace said reluctantly, removing her hands from his warm welcoming form.

"I'll text you about lunch." Don told her, tossing his empty coffee cup into the trash before heading towards the door.

Grace sighed tilting her head as her grey gaze swept over the back of his exquisite muscular frame, lingering particularly on the way those dark jeans hugged his ass.

Four days apart was way too long in her book. It was only when her phone began to chime again that she realized that she had forgotten to tell him about Jack.


The AV Lab was Adam's control panel, if he was the Captain of anything it would be this place. It was his domain and he liked that. He enjoyed having his own space in the crime lab. Located near the elevators he could people watch from his hub while he worked through the open plan glass windows. At the minute he was seated in his office chair, his azure eyes focusing on something beyond his screen and on the opposite side of the glass window.

Danny was standing behind him, his arms crossed over his chest as he followed Adam's gaze. Grace rolled her eyes after checking her phone again and pressing one of the buttons before attaching it back onto her belt.

"I don't understand. Why does she keep doing that?" Adam asked out loud, his forehead crinkling as he gestured at Grace. "Are her and Flack fighting already? They've only been married a month."

"Nah, the two of them are solid." Danny stated as they watched Grace disappear off from view.

"It's not just me right? She is acting weird." Adam prompted Danny, rolling his chair back a little to catch a glimpse of the other man's features.

Danny shrugged his shoulders.

"Maybe we should just get on with making a visual time line." he responded, pointing at Adam's computer screen.

Adam's hands hovered over the keyboard as he tried to focus on the task at hand.

"I haven't seen her like this since Jack..." Adam trailed off freezing as it suddenly dawned on him.

Danny gnawed on his lower lip, hanging his head so Adam wouldn't see the expression on upon his features as he twisted the chair around to face him.

"She can't answer that phone." Adam said bolting from his chair.

Danny put his hand on Adam's shoulder guiding him back down into his seat.

"Hold on a sec there buddy." Danny responded as Adam perched on the edge of the seat impatiently. "Grace isn't stupid, she's not going to run back to that jerk at a moment's notice. She's married to Flack now."

"Yea one night stands are a no no once your married." Adam agreed, raising up from his seat.

Danny placed a hand back on the other man's shoulder before pushing him down again. He could see there was something more going on underneath the surface. Adam's eyes were wide and intently focused on his goal, which at the current moment was the door. His lips were clamped together as Danny narrowed his cornflower blue eyes studying his mannerisms. Adam's hands were clenched around the armrests of the seat and Danny could see the tension in his body as he leaned forward ready to move.

"Adam." Danny drawled out his name. "What do you know?"

"Jack's been offered a job back here in New York." Adam said quietly. "My girlfriend works for the FBI, he's been requested by her superiors for an empty slot on her team. Grace always said the only thing that stopped the two of them being together was distance."

"Nah. She's got Flack now, Faraday doesn't even get a look in." Danny tried to reassure the younger man.

Adam put his hands on his head, his eyes rolled skyward.

"Adam..." Danny prompted.

"When Beth asked him why he picked New York to apply for he told her he was planning to hook up with an old girlfriend. He thought it was time to settle down and do the right by her." Adam informed the other man pointedly. "I wasn't even sure it was Grace he was talking about until this whole thing with her phone."

"It might not be Grace." Danny pointed out as Adam looked at him as if he was stupid.

"He used to come back here to hook up with her and bring her presents." Adam reminded Danny. "They kept in contact until the whole Will thing kicked off."

"Does Faraday even know about that?" Danny questioned the lab tech.

Adam shrugged helplessly.

"I doubt it, how would you begin to tell someone about it?" Adam pointed out.

Danny slumped his shoulders in agreement. There was silence between the two men as they became preoccupied with their own thoughts regarding the situation. Adam just hoped to God that Grace didn't pick up that call.

"So far I compiled all the data we received from all the evidence you guys have collected to create this digital time line." Adam said, breaking the dour mood between them. "So now that we know that James Roberts isn't the killer because he was tripping out in the bathroom hopefully this will help us track down who is and where the two girls that ended up with them came from."

"Ok." Danny submitted shifting gears back into work mode. "So after winning the twenty five k at the retirement home we know they went on to the midget wrestling event. Calvin Moore, the wrestler himself says that they weren't high when he saw them and there was no sign of the girls."

"Ahh but..." Adam rolling back across the room and flicking on his flat screen monitor. "Hawkes and Stella managed to get me the footage from the cab the guys trashed. It shows Mark driving and the guys stop to pick the two girls from this apartment building."

"What's that Jackie is putting in her bag? Can we zoom in?" Danny requested, leaning forward.

"It looks like a gun." Adam remarked, tilting his head and squinting.

"It's small so it could be a twenty two calibre, doesn't do much damage. It's a girl's gun." Danny stated. "Can we get more of a view of that apartment building?"

"Sure thing." Adam said, working the mouse with his quick fingers. "They look like their in a hurry."

Danny took in the details of the place before writing down the address.

"I think it's time for Flack and I pay a visit."

Chapter 39

Summary:

Don and Grace spend a rare moment together.

Chapter Text

It was late when Grace stumbled into the apartment. The case had been closed when Mac had arrested Rufus Knox, a known drug dealer for the quadruple Homicide in the Tribeca Hotel and for attempting to kill James Roberts. She would sleep easy tonight knowing that the man who had committed those heinous crimes was behind bars.

The contents of her brown paper grocery bags slipped from her arms sending a box of cereal skittering across the floor as she used her back to shut the door behind her.

Don was already in motion, prowling from his position on the couch towards her. His startling blue eyes were dark with desire as he stalked towards her. She could already feel her skin beginning to prickle with anticipation as she recognized the blistering, primal instincts in his purposeful movements.

"Leave it." Don ordered, taking the second shopping bag from her hands and dropping it down onto the floor beside the front door.

His mouth covered hers hot and demanding as he slammed her against the door so hard the sound resounded through the room. Grace melted into that kiss as his firm hands cupped her cheeks. His tongue teased along the bottom of her lower lip before delving into her mouth. Her hands gripped his green T-shirt, yanking him even closer.

It had been an age since she had been able to touch him like this. They had barely been in the same room together in the past four days and this was the chemistry getting to boiling point. She had missed him fiercely and from his response he had missed her too very much.

Don nudged her legs apart with his knee, his hips were parallel with hers closing the minuscule gap between them. She could feel his hard erection pressing against her through their jeans, the friction building as he rubbed it across her most sensitive area making her nip his lower lip in encouragement.

"How long?" she asked him between kisses.

"An hour." he muttered, his insistent lips returning to claim hers yet again.

Don's hands were already making quick work of the silver belt buckle on her jeans. His nimble fingers flicked open the button as he unzipped her fly. Grace's head tipped back in ecstasy as his hand plunged straight into her panties. Don's thumb glided over her slick, sensitive clit. Grace's nails raked his bare arms as he slipped two fingers inside her, curving them slightly to hit that sweet spot as he massaged her aching nub.

Jesus it got her off when he was rough and dominating like this. His face was inches apart from hers his stunning blue eyes watching her facial expression contort in pleasure as her breathing hitched. He liked to watch her, he enjoyed seeing what his ministrations were doing to her beautiful rampant body. Even more he relished hearing every single noise she made as he drove her closer to the ultimate release.

Grace's hands were already on his jeans, tearing the buttons open before her slim fingers bypassed the waist band of his boxers. Her hand grasped him as she began to stroke his leaking cock from the tip to the base. Don removed his hand from her panties abruptly, leaving Grace moaning in desperation longing for his touch. His hand enclosed upon her wrist, gently pulling it from his underwear before turning her to face the door.

Grace placed her palms flat on the wood as Don's hands smoothed down the shape of her taunt body, outlining her slender form. His hands ran through her hair, gripping it tightly in his fist as he drew her head back, his teeth grazed the tender curve of her neck. Grace hissed in arousal at his aggressive seduction.

"I'm gonna make you come right here all over my cock." he whispered into her ear, sending a feverish thrill chasing all over her body.

Don's fingers hooked her black lace panties and dragged them down her toned legs before he stripped himself of his own underwear. Grace arched at the sensation of his muscular frame pressing against the length of hers. His free hand came to rest on her hip, guiding her into place as his erection rubbed against her deliciously moist core.

"Your so wet." Don groaned into her shoulder blade as his tongue traced the pattern of the scars that marred her flesh.

The head of his throbbing member was pushing against the very edge of her intimate opening. Grace writhed against him as he held her in place allowing her no respite from the delirious, torturous pleasure that consumed her.

"Not until I say so." Don breathed into her ear as he tugged her hair in order to expose that delectable erogenous zone just under the line of her jaw.

Grace's whole body strained against him as she bucked trying to sate her brimming desire. He knew she loved it when he was domineering. Don wanted her worked up thoroughly before he gave her what she wanted, what the both wanted. He admitted he wouldn't be able to control himself any longer.

Being in this position with her was unbelievable, every single pleading word and whimper that left her mouth excited him even more. Just watching this stunning body tighten at his every whim made him want to bury himself deep inside her. She was an responsive and incredible lover, he had never felt the satisfaction and completion he received from her before.

"I'm gonna fuck you until your screaming my name." Don murmured, biting down hard as he entered her with one long swift stroke.

The sensation was astonishing, setting very single nerve in her body aflame the very second he entered her. Grace cried out in need as Don withdrew from her completely before penetrating her for a second time with the same rapid, unyielding motion. It was moments like this that reminded Grace that she belonged to him, heart, body, mind and soul.

"God don't stop." she begged as he began to move in deep steady thrusts that made her knees go weak.

"Not until you make me come, doll." he promised, picking up the pace as he began to pound into her wanting body, hitting that sweet spot over and over again.

Grace was incoherent, her cries of bliss were loud and uninhibited as she teetered on the very cusp of her orgasm. Don's lower back was tingling as he pumped into her wanton form. He could feel her inner muscles clenching around him like a velvet fist as she screamed out his name. His grip on her dark hair tightened as his own climax overcame him. Don bit down hard on her shoulder again as it claimed him, his fingers dug into her hip at the sheer force of the orgasm that ripped through him as Grace's body jerked in ecstasy.

The two of them stood still panting for a couple moments. Don's fingers threaded through hers, still pressed to the back of the door as he supported her trembling form.

"Your amazing." she breathed, tilting her head back so it came to rest in the crook of his neck.

Grace brought their interlacing hands up to her mouth, her soft lips caressed the back of his hand as her body began to recover from the aftermath of their love making.

"Your not to shabby yourself." Don teased, as he placed his own gentle kiss over the bite mark on her right shoulder. "This is gonna hurt like a bitch tomorrow."

Grace inclined her head to glance at the teeth marks etched into her flesh.

"It was worth it." she dismissed as she removed her body from his in search of her panties.

Don let out a chuckle as he leant over to yank his underwear and jeans back up over his defined hips before checking his watch..

"Thirty minutes." he told her as she stepped into her jeans and shimmied into them.

"We're getting good at this quickie thing." she complimented, doing up the zipper and fastening the gold button.

"I hate not being able to spend any time with you." Don grumbled, crouching down to retrieve their fallen groceries.

Grace grasped the brown grocery bag beside the apartment door and took it into the open plan kitchen with Don following closely behind as she set it down on the table.

"We knew they'd be times like this." Grace pointed out. "But if it helps I don't like it much either. We don't get a chance to talk."

"Something bothering you doll?" Don questioned, frowning at the tone underlying her words.

"I really wanted to talk about this differently." Grace said leaning against the work surface and raking her hands through her hair in agitation.

"Grace spit it out." Don urged, crossing his arms over his broad chest in concern as his gaze fixated on her.

"Jack's been calling me." she blurted out, ducking her head so he couldn't examine the expression on her features.

"Faraday?" Don questioned, his eyebrows furrowing at the implications. "He's back?"

"I don't know. I've not been taking his calls." Grace told him with a shrug of her shoulders.

"You think it's a hook up?" he asked her out right.

Don's hands came to rest on her arms, smoothing up and down them in reassurance as he spoke. He knew why this was such an issue for her. His reaction was important to her and he was trying to reign it in as much as possible but Don had to admit it was a struggle. The truth was he didn't want Jack Faraday anywhere near his wife. The other man had the uncanny ability to screw with Grace's head on a level Don didn't even know was possible.

"I don't know." Grace answered, clearly conflicted.

She tilted her head up so he could see the honesty of that statement in her grey eyes. It had been two years since Faraday and Grace had seen each other and he had thought that the other man had decided to let sleeping dogs lie. It made Don suspicious that Faraday was calling her but at the same time he trusted Grace. Marriage was about being open and sharing everything, he understood that she had come to him with this instead of hiding it. That was important to him. He had to play his cards right if he wanted that kind of relationship between the two of them to continue.

"You want to see him don't you?" he said quietly, already aware of the answer.

"He was a really good friend at one point. He encouraged me to do things I hadn't tried before, the research grants, the random trips. The two of us had a lot of fun together even when we weren't a couple." Grace explained, rubbing her hands over her weary features.

A trip to Paris, Cuba and Venice. All spur of the moment, romantic getaways on Faraday's behalf. He had whisked her away, stolen her heart and then broken it into a million pieces leaving Don to step in yet again and clean up his mess on a personal level this time instead of professional. He hadn't approved of Grace and his fuckbuddy status for the year afterwards. Don thought Faraday was jerking her around, playing on her emotions until Grace had gotten together with Hamlin and put an end to their casual arrangement.

"Just because I have bad blood with Faraday doesn't mean that you have to too." Don told her reluctantly.

It pained him to say such words but the point was she had to learn for herself what a shit the other man was. If he put a smack down on her seeing Faraday it would cause friction between the two of them and in a way that would be just what Faraday wanted if his motives were of a romantic nature. Still there was a very strong impulse for Don to speak his mind on the matter. There wasn't a chance in hell he would be able to sit comfortably knowing Faraday was in his city, spending some quality time with his wife.

"But that doesn't mean you should have to feel uncomfortable." Grace told him, wrapping her arms around herself.

"I'm your husband, the better man won in this case." Don responded. "If you want to see him, I want you to know I don't have a problem with that."

It was a lie, a blatant bare faced one and the fact Grace didn't see through it made him realize she actually wanted his words to be true. He deemed this the right answer despite the fact he hated it so much.

"Your handling this very maturely." Grace remarked in a quiet tone that told him she was contemplating his lie.

"Marriage isn't about ownership, it's a partnership. If this is something you want to do, I support your decision." he told her.

It was a half truth at best but it made her happy he could tell from the way her shoulders seemed to sag in relief. She had been worried about telling him this and rightly so. Faraday was a threat in Don's eyes. A rival player on his football field with an unknown agenda and he did not like it. He chanced a glance at his watch and winced.

"As much as I would love to continue this conversation. I gotta go." he muttered apologetically.

Grace pressed a tender kiss to his lips before he released her from his hold.

"Be safe." she warned him.

"Always." he promised before snatching up his holster, badge and jacket and sweeping out of the door.

Chapter 40

Summary:

Graces a blast from the past.

Chapter Text

Grace was an idiot. It had been exactly twelve hours since she had left the crime lab last night and yet again she was here on her day off because she had left her charger in her desk drawer and her cell phone had run out of battery. She thanked Christ she wasn't on call otherwise Mac would have shot her for being so careless. She had been exhausted when she had left the lab last night, her mind had been on the mental shopping list she had been devising instead of the more important things like the charger.

Grace let out a deep sigh as she hit the button for the elevator with her palm. She removed her lime Green Ipod out of the pocket of her black woollen jacket so she could flick through the songs. The buds of the slim lined machine were placed firmly in her ears as she concentrated on the song titles that flew by.

Grace buried her nose deeply into the blue and green chequered scarf around her throat, inhaling the familiar scent of Don on it's folds. She had borrowed it again this morning on her way out of the door. He had left it hanging on the wooden coat rack along with that charcoal coloured overcoat she liked so much.

Despite their intense love making last night she had still missed his presence in their bed. When he was away she cuddled up to his pillow burying her face in it to inhale his masculine scent to help her sleep. Grace was ashamed to admit his absence from her daily routine was making her crazy and lonely.

It pained her not seeing that boyish smile light up her day and she thought that was borderline pathetic. She wasn't the type of girl who freaked out over being apart, she was strong independent she had a life outside of her marriage but Jesus she missed him like hell when the two of them were on opposing shifts.

Grace took a step forward as the elevator doors opened, her attention still focused on the song list in front of her. It was her fault when she clashed with someone stepping out of the elevator. The Ipod flew out of her hand disconnecting it from the headphones and clattering to the floor.

As soon as their body's collided Grace knew who this man was. His lean hard body still felt wonderful when it pressed up against hers, his sharp decadent scent was still the same as it flooded her senses and she wondered how the hell that was still possible after two years. Grace crouched down scrambling for her Ipod before yanking the headphones out of her ears and wrapping them around the Ipod before raising to her feet to face him properly.

"Woah there cher. You running out on me already?" Jack Faraday drawled in that smooth Louisiana accent that made every single woman in the room sit up and pay attention.

Jack used his finger to tip her chin up so she could meet his oceanic eyes. Her heart practically stopped beating in her chest as she took in his well sculptured facial features. His five o'clock shadow was fashionable, extenuating the masculine ruggedness he alluded. His shoulders were broad but his frame was leaner, his muscular structure more compact.

He didn't radiate the same feeling of safety or security that Don did, but she knew he made up for that with charisma. His eyes twinkled with that familiar spark as a smile twisted across his sensual lips. His light brown hair was messy as it flopped across his forehead.

"Hi." he breathed.

"Hi." she returned sounding equally as breathless.

"You cut your hair." he said, his fingertips raking through the silky strands to push it back behind her ear, sending a familiar thrill down Grace's spine. "It suits you makes you look sexy and dynamic like all New York City girls."

"Thanks." she said crossing her arms over her chest trying to distance herself from the overwhelming emotions that were coursing through her body.

He still looked as good as he had the last time she saw him. She could feel the endorphins still flooding her as she was seized by that memory.

They were in his extravagant hotel room. She was in his bed, her long dark hair fanning across the pillow contrasting against the white sheets the two of them were tangled up in. She never intended it to end this way but it always did. It would start with the two of them going to dinner or hitting a bar and then bed. It didn't matter whose place it was, they spent the late hours enjoying each other before he would leave in the morning to head back to San Francisco. She knew she should have cut this off long before it started. Flack told her that all the time but she wasn't ready to let go just yet.

"Tell me what you want cher and I'll give it ya." Jack said as his body lingered dangerously out of reach.

His body was barely touching hers as he supported himself above her. Their bodies were slick from the foreplay they had delighted in as they had stripped each other of their clothes. Jack liked to take his time as he de-robed her, he adored pulling the layers of clothing from her body. Now they were here almost committing the most basic of cardinal acts.

Jack's hands were either side of her face, his fingertips stroking her bangs away from her pretty features as he locked gazes with her, his lips hovering so tentatively close. His erection was pressing against her bundle of nerves causing a glutinous gasp to escape from her lips.

"You'd give me anything about now." she teased, watching his face contort in pleasure as she altered the trajectory of her hips slightly.

"That I would." he promised in his deep southern lilt. "Anything you desire sugar."

"You." she whispered, closing her eyes. "I desire you."

"Then you shall receive." he declared with a smile before lowering his skilled lips to hers as he allowed himself to penetrate her supple body.

"So you haven't forgotten about me." Jack stated, his dimples showing as he took in her flushing cheeks.

"Your pretty hard to forget Jack." Grace said rubbing the back of her head uneasily.

She hated the way he was able to put those images back in her head. She hadn't thought about him in over a year now and suddenly he was back in her life being so painfully charming. It took Grace a second to remember that things were different now. She wasn't a single girl, working all the hours that God sent her with no private life, she was Don's wife and there wasn't a chance in hell she'd let herself get swept up again with this aphrodisiac of a man. Even as she thought it, she could feel herself drawn to him all over again as if no time had passed between them. It was like this all the time when she was with Jack.

"But you have been screening my calls sugar, don't you try to deny it." Jack pointed out, taking her hand firmly in his as he tugged her into the elevator and hit the button for the ground floor. "Me and you have got a lot of catching up to do."

"Jack..." Grace trailed off as he lingered in her proximity.

Her back was against the wall of the elevator next to the control panel. His firm hand was already fastened on her waist underneath her open jacket. His skin was molten hot as his palm skimmed across the ragged scar that marred her flesh through the white linen blouse she was wearing. His head dipped low as he stared directly into her eyes making her brain switch off completely at the smouldering lust she saw there.

"Don't worry I'll keep it clean until we're alone cher." he reassured her.

His fingers were in her hair, his hands smoothed across her cheeks as his lips moved agonisingly closer.

"Jack." she whispered, holding up her left hand allowing her silver wedding band and the small jewelled engagement ring to glitter in the florescent lighting. "I'm married."

Jack's oceanic eyes lowered to her lips as he watched her form the words. His hands were still on her and once upon a time Grace may have found herself falling for him all over again. Don was in the forefront of her mind as she balanced to precariously on the edge, he pulled her back to the ground with a thump as she placed one hand on Jack's chest as he spoke.

"That doesn't matter one bit to me sugar." he murmured, his breath on her lips. "He can't do the things that I do for you."

"No." Grace answered, propelling Jack backwards with a gentle push. "He does it better."

"Does he now?" Jack asked searching her eyes for any hints of dishonesty instead he found himself disturbed by what he saw there. "I think I'll have to meet the fine upstanding gentleman that managed to tame you cher."

"You already have." Grace informed him as Jack's ridged brows drew into a frown trying to decipher what was running through her mind like a puzzle.

Something was different in her, he could see that from the beginning. She was more confident, less indulgent to his charms. He wasn't surprised to hear that she was married. Grace was a stimulating woman in both an intellectual and visual capacity.

Despite what she thought he hadn't forgotten about her in those two long years they had been apart, there hadn't been a woman since who'd matched her calibre. He wondered who the lucky son of a bitch was that had managed to coax that ring upon her finger. Getting her back into his life wasn't going to be as easy as it had been in the past.

A few dynamite nights in bed wouldn't be enough to return her to her rightful place in his life. He had missed a chance with her when he'd walked away three years ago. He had been ambitious and driven back then. He'd had a close call recently working with the BAU and it had made him revalidate his life. He had spent years building up a reputation and now that it was solidified it was time to settle down, to think about building a future and there had only been one woman he had seen that prospect with over the recent years.

The elevator doors opened distracting both of them momentarily as they stood apart. Jack's eyes were still on Grace as she twisted her head to greet the person standing there. Her demeanour changed completely. Her shoulders relaxed and her face lit up like a kid on Christmas. Her grey eyes were sparkling as she stepped forward taking the dark haired Detective's large hand in her own, their fingers entwining. The gesture was intimate and the instant Jack saw it he despised it.

"Jack, I believe you've met my husband Detective Don Flack." Grace beamed proudly.

Jack didn't think he could have hated anyone more at that moment.

Chapter 41

Summary:

Jack and Grace share a meal.

Chapter Text

The restaurant was one they had used to frequent back in the year that the two of them had spent in each others company. It was called Havana and sold a variation of delicacies from Cuba and it's surrounding countries. This place brought back a lot of memories and Grace found it hadn't changed much over the past few years. It was as still intimate and low key as she remembered. Grace shifted uncomfortably as they were led to their seats by a hostess, she felt under dressed for the type of upmarket place this was.

"How long has it been since you last came here cher?" Jack asked her, his chin resting on his palm as he studied her.

She still looked as tantalising as always. He was telling the truth when he said her hair looked sexy, seeing it in that choppy, bed head style reminded him of simpler times between the two of them. Ones were he didn't have to keep his hands to himself. She wore very little make up upon her fresh faced features, a hint of smoky eye-liner smudged around those gorgeous grey eyes. Her clothing was a simple, silk, wine red wrap around affair over a black vest and jeans.

A silver and black beaded rosary hung down over the top and the crucifix nestling between her breasts drawing his attention even further to that area. He remembered how those sensual mounds fitted so perfectly into his palms, how delicate her skin felt under his lips as he worshipped her body with his mouth, his tongue tasting her salty flesh as she keened for him.

"You should know the answer to that." she said reproachfully, the tone of her voice snapping him out of his reveries.

He detested seeing those rings adorning her left hand. They were too simple, not enough flair, they didn't suit her at all. She was complicated and interesting, she merited something that showed that. A rock the size of Manhattan would be the only thing suitable for her instead of that understated costume jewellery. Then again, he mused, what did he expect from a simple man like Flack?

"Your husband doesn't take you out to places like this? He doesn't treat you the way you deserve to be treated?" Jack responded mockingly.

He could tell from her slight discomfort that his words hit home. When Jack was dating Grace, he had taken her out to all manner of places to heighten her senses. The theatre, the opera, restaurants like this were all common practice in their relationship. She never had the reason to feel inferior, she was one of the elite even without the money. It was clear from her uneasiness that Flack wasn't treating her the way that she should be treated. This woman was a queen in his eyes.

"Jack." Grace snarked sharply in warning.

Jack admired her loyalty. Grace had always been a woman of integrity, it was a pity that her trust could be so deeply misplaced. He wondered how Flack had earned her faith, it certainly wasn't through his intellect. Jack couldn't understand what Grace saw in the other man and he was determined that by the end of this night she would see him for what he really was, a self centred, sarcastic asshole.

"What's wrong sugar?" he drawled, pouring more of the expensive red wine into both glasses. "Too close to the truth?"

"Your being facetious." she told him, taking her glass and gulping the alcoholic fluid.

Jack was only to happy to oblige her another refill on the glass of wine. He guessed that she didn't get to taste the richness of this blend any more.

"Does a Homicide Detective even know the meaning of big words like that?" Jack teased as Grace and him handed the waitress their menus before giving their orders.

Grace rolled her eyes at the clear disdain in Jack's voice before clasping her hands together. It was a sign of irritation he remembered. His words were getting to her. He wanted to hear the doubts she had regarding her marriage. There was no shame in admitting to that mistake and she needed to know that, he wouldn't judge her for it.

"I get that the two of you hate each other but he's civil about you, the least you could do is return the favour." she told him with a knowing look.

"Flack civil? Now I am surprised. What wonders you must have worked on that man?" Jack remarked, arching his eyebrows so she got the gist of his thinking."Or is it more of a case of what wonders he worked on you?"

"I am leaving." Grace snapped, raising to her feet indignant.

"Come on cher, don't be like that." Jack said, reaching out his fingers curling around her wrist as he lightly tugged her back down into her seat. "I'm only wondering how a girl as precious as you ended up with him. I knew the two of you were close but I had no idea how much."

Grace complied which Jack took to be a good sign. It meant her resolve was weakening, he'd pushed too hard too soon. He had other questions to ask, things that he was unsure of when it came to her life these days. He knew she'd stopped working on her research from their conversation in the cab. She said her heart wasn't in it, research was isolated and lonely and she liked working with people, helping them.

Jack had heard something similar coming off Flack's lips over three years ago when he turned down the position offered to him by the FBI as a trainer at the academy in Quantico. It had been a small consolation considering the offer he would have gotten if Jack hadn't stepped in and taken over the case. At the time Jack knew the other man simply wasn't good enough to take the heat so he'd done them both a favour, he thought.

"Once more time Jack." Grace warned as he refilled her wine glass for the second time this evening.

"I promise sugar. I'll be good." Jack said, flashing his devil may care smile. "So why don't you tell me how you ended up becoming hitched to Detective Blue Eyes? Last time we spoke you and that guy Will were getting pretty serious."

He sensed her change in demeanour almost instantly and it sent the hair on the back of his neck prickling in response to the tension that knotted in her shoulder blades. Grace lowered her gaze, he watched her slender fingers trail around the rim of her wine glass.

"He's in prison for assaulting a police officer with a deadly weapon." she told him softly.

Her voice was quiet as she spoke, it took a second for the words to filter through to his brain and the implications of them. There was a moment when Jack looked at her, Grace turned her head away so her hair fell over her face and in that very second he knew. All those nagging thoughts from the past two years slotted so perfectly into place. He realized why he hadn't heard from Grace after she had taken up with Will Hamlin. The bastard hadn't let her, it was the first step of dominance in an abusive relationship, isolate the victim so they had nowhere to run to.

Knowing that someone had hurt her like that made his blood boil in his veins. He could feel his anger pulsating through him as he analysed her body. He wondered what he would find underneath the layers of her clothes, the bruises may have faded but he knew on some level the psychological scars had not. He thought about the physical ones, whether the son of a bitch had marked her flawless skin.

Above all he pondered how Flack had let this happen to her. She had been there for that man, Jack and her had just been starting out when Flack had returned to work after the explosion where they had met. He had watched Grace support and aid that man, the sheer effort she put in to him was admirable. He had seen the way that Flack had looked at Grace when they were together and he had despised their closeness. He remembered the dates she had cancelled so she could attend Flack's rehab appointments, the nights when Jack was working that she would spent eating dinner with the other man or watching a game.

Grace had always laughed that little bit louder when Flack was around, her smile always seemed that tiny watt brighter. He had hated the Homicide Detective's ability to make him feel inferior despite the fact he was the one with the money, the charm and the high powered career.

In Jack's eyes it was the other man's duty to watch out for her, to prevent things like this from happening and Jack didn't understand why he hadn't. Was he that self adsorbed to not recognize the signs? Or had he let it wear her down ready to slip in himself when he had banished the villain?

"Oh Cherie..." he murmured mournfully, his hand enclosing over hers.

Grace pulled away as his thumb caressed the back of her hand lightly. Jack let out a resigned sigh, refilling her wine glass for a third time as she leaned back in her seat.

"Don saved me." Grace submitted, staring bleakly into the dark pool of liquid. "I was struggling afterwards, I wasn't dealing with it right and he stepped in. He made me feel like I was worth something, that I was doing the right thing and everything just came together after that."

"You've been married how long now?" Jack asked, his gaze lingering on her wedding band and engagement ring.

"A month." Grace informed him, shifting her glass out of the way as the waiter set down their meals.

"A month? Wow that's..." Jack trailed off as he searched for a word that wasn't going to offend her before trying again. "I'm sure you were a beautiful bride."

"The pictures are on Facebook." Grace told him, picking up her silver cutlery before she began to eat her meal.

Jack removed his Android phone from the inner pocket of his impeccable suit jacket before setting it on the table and scrolling through.

"I haven't checked my Facebook in ages." he said, pressing a few more buttons before the picture popped up on his screen. "That looks like City Hall."

"It is, we had a small ceremony with Adam and Danny as witnesses." Grace explained.

Jack frowned as he scrolled through the album uploaded by Adam Ross. He had to admit Grace looked ravishing in the pictures, the way that fitted cream dress hugged her lithe athletic frame left very little to his imagination. After the initial ceremony, it appeared their reception had been held in a bar. If it had been him in Flack's position he would have given her everything imaginable to make it the most memorable day of her life. Instead she'd ended up with a jukebox for what appeared to be her first dance and a husband more than unworthy of her.

"I thought you'd want something..." Jack groped for the word testing it on his lips before speaking out loud. "Grander maybe."

Grace shrugged, a smile spreading across her features as she thought back to that day and their spontaneity. That was one of the reasons she loved Don, he was never afraid to indulge her impulses or her fantasies.

Her cheeks flushed red at the memories of their wedding night when he'd used his handcuffs to bind her to their bed and his tie to blindfold her. He'd teased her mercilessly into submission that night, taking her to the most pleasurable peaks she had ever experienced using an ice cube and the confines of his raging hot mouth. She had begged for him to take her in every filthy way she could imagine and he had fulfilled every single one of her requests. There wasn't an inch of her that didn't belong to him.

"It seemed right you know?" the words slipped out of her mouth as she ducked her head to disguise her blush.

Jack did know. He knew all too well that this was the only wedding the two of them were able to afford on a Homicide Detective's salary. Grace deserved so much better than what Jack had seen in her wedding photographs, she should be wearing a big white dress in a church or hotel ballroom with as many guests as she wanted. As far as he was concerned Grace was settling and Jack was kicking himself for not rushing back sooner. If he had she wouldn't have been trapped in this marriage of obligation.

"So what brings you back to New York? A case? A seminar? Training some newbies at the field office?" Grace asked, with an interested smile as her gaze flicked up to meet his.

He felt his heart beat faster against his ribcage when she did that. Her eyes were the most expressive part of her. How many times had he imagined her in his bed again over the past two years? Remembered that look, similar to the one she was giving him now as she went down on him?

Too many was his answer. Jack didn't want to be alone any more. He had spent the past two years trying to forget about Grace, about the look in her eyes and the tremble of her lips as he told her about the move he was making to San Francisco. Breaking it off had been hard, worse than he had imagined. Her life was in New York and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that if he asked her to move with him her answer would have been "no".

So he had left, he had chased other women but every time he came back to New York he always found himself calling her so he could hear the sound of her rich velvet voice. She had been the only constant secure thing in his life for over a year before he called it off. Grace was a dependable, calming influence and he needed her stability now more than ever.

"I had a close call back in New Orleans." he confessed to her.

She could tell from the expression in his face he wasn't up to giving away any details. Hell it was enough for Jack just to look in the mirror and see the scars that criss-crossed his chest everyday. His career had suffered after the night he almost was murdered. He was meant to be on duty helping the Behavioural Analysis Unit patrol The French Quarter back home in New Orleans instead he'd been drawn away by a pretty brunette who had lured him back to the Ruby Rouge Inn. This pretty little thing couldn't be the Ripper they were looking for, he remembered thinking.

Jack didn't believe in profiling, how many times had the BAU been wrong before? He had had to cancel his plans to attend a friend's bachelor party to play liaison between he BAU and the local PD. He was still very popular in New Orleans, his granddaddy had been one of the sugar barons in the nineteen twenties. The Faradays were practically royalty in the social circles of New Orleans.

His wrists were bound to either bed post with a tight white scarf. The brunette was straddling his hips. Her red silk nightdress draped over her luscious form trailing across his waist and chest as she wrenched the knot tighter. She was rough and he liked that in a woman. He was dominant all the time in his work life so sometimes it paid to be the submissive. He wanted this girl so bad right now he would do anything for it. When she had told him to strip, hell his clothes were off in seconds. He was into a little bit of kink so when she started tying him to that bed he had known that he was in for one wild night.

"The things I'm gonna do to you." he drawled lying on his back, his head tilted upwards so he could meet her dark eyes.

"Me first." she teased, with a hint of coldness in her voice.

His head was tipped back into the pillow as her warm hand played over his ribs. His eyes closed as her fingers slipped lower before he felt the sudden influx of pain slicing across his chest. His eyes snapped open and his entire body bucked as the blood ran down his smooth chest. His eyes fell on the knife she was holding in those dainty little hands of hers.

"You never did explain those things you could do to me." she said in that kitten cute accent as raked the knife across his firm flesh again, drawing more blood.

He was wrenching and twisting against his bonds, fighting so hard that the bed posts were quivering as he seethed and snapped at the woman still cradling his hips. It was useless, she had tied the knots with a clinical efficiency. He was completely helpless underneath her power and he despised it. She placed the blade between his ribs, dragging it across his skin causing him to scream out loud as it transected the muscle.

He had no idea how long the agony went on for, it seemed like days as she taunted, stabbed and cut into him. His shoulders were burning from fighting his restraints, there was blood pooling under his back on the sheets from the stinging rivets she had carved into his chest. The knife was now digging into his throat, he could feel the pressure of the point pressing into his taunt flesh.

"Just finish it." he spat at her unable to take the torment any longer.

"Darling." she drew out the word with that cruel smile. "We're only just getting started."

Moments later the BAU team had burst in guns blazing. He had never been so relieved to see so many people in a room where he was naked before.

Grace was still looking at him intently, he could see the sympathy in her beautiful features. She knew a thing or two about screwed up memories and reliving them. Her hand reached out to clasp his lightly in reassurance. No more words were needed on the subject and he appreciated that. He took solace in her touch, she was the only person who could chase away the feelings of disappointment and self loathing he harboured. For the first time in a long time he didn't feel any regret.

"Right now sugar, I'm looking for a place to call home. I thought New York might be it." Jack said answering her question from before.

"Huh." Grace said, shaking her head as she drew her hand away for the second time this evening.

"What?" Jack questioned, interlinking his fingers together as he reviewed her.

"Just if you were saying those words to me three years ago, it would have been everything I wanted to hear." Grace said, draining the rest of her wine glass.

"And now?" Jack asked her, resisting the urge to brush her bangs away from her eyes.

Grace held up her left hand so that the rings glinted in the light from the room.

"I'm still married." she reminded him.

"I was your friend once." he pointed out.

"You can be my friend again." Grace responded with the a genuine smile.

"I would like that cher." Jack said, trying to force some honesty into his words.

To Jack Faraday being friends with Grace Sullivan would never be enough.

Chapter 42

Summary:

The problems with Jack come to ahead.

Chapter Text

Don was in hell.

His captain had thought he was doing him a favour by sending him home to spend some quality time with 'that wife of his' as it was so adequately phrased. Instead he was sitting in Reilly's Bar knocking back a couple of beers with Danny so he didn't have go home to an empty apartment.

He had been both shocked and perplexed when he'd seen the Grace and Faraday walking into their local haunt and taking a seat at the bar. That was forty minutes ago and so far he had watched his wife gulp several shots of tequila because she was losing whatever ridiculous drinking game they were playing.

Grace didn't know he was here, which was a testimonial itself to how preoccupied she had been when she had entered the bar. He'd already seen the glazed look in his wife's eyes and heard her laugh a little too loud at something Faraday had whispered in her ear. She was tipsy, he observed that calmly. She was still in control though and still very much aware of her actions, if things came to a head he would step in. As Danny said this was a rare opportunity to watch the way the two of them interacted and to get a heads up on Faraday's motivations.

Don loved Grace, he trusted her implicitly. He saw the way she handled guys in the job and outside of it, there was never a flicker of interest or an ounce of teasing her voice when she dismissed them. He felt sorry for other the men sometimes at her cold and almost clinical appraisal of them. The expression on her face when she looked them up and down clearly registered her thought pattern, sometimes she didn't even have to speak before they slunk off back to their friends.

However it was Faraday he didn't trust. Within two minutes of bumping into the man, his protective streak was booted up into hyper drive. He saw the way the other man looked at Grace and he didn't like it. He saw her as a possession, something to be owned and not honoured. Every time she looked away he saw the lust surge across Faraday's face as his gaze slipped down to her modest breasts. There was no doubt about his motives as far as Don was concerned. The other man wanted to fuck his wife in any which way he could have her.

Don had never been possessive before he met Grace, she brought out feelings in him he had never experienced before, some good and some bad. Jealousy was one of them, it was writhing in the pit of his stomach, hissing and scratching to get out. He had never felt the urge to mark his territory so badly. He wanted to go over there and knock Faraday's head off before throwing Grace over his shoulder and taking her home to claim her as his own all over again.

The impulse was aggressive and furious, it demanded to be sated as he watched the pair in front of him. The grip on his beer bottle tightened as Jack demanded yet another tequila slammer. It was taking every ounce of his self control not to go over there and smash the smug Southern bastard's face against the bar.

"You are showing a lot of restraint right now." Danny said into the open air, tipping his beer at Don as they reviewed the scene in front of him.

Don rolled his eyes upwards towards the ceiling praying for strength, this was absolute torture. He felt like a voyeur watching his wife with another man. That manic tiger caged inside him was already enraged and restless clawing fiercely at his insides commanding him to get over there and protect his mate from the predator sitting across from her. He turned his savage gaze upon Danny, the other man winced at the fire and brimstone blazing in his friend's eyes. He could see the strain in Don's features as he struggled with battle waging deep inside. It was like baiting a bear making the other man sit through this. If Faraday made one wrong move Don's control would snap and he couldn't be held responsible for the carnage that followed.

"Grace has got good instincts." Danny said in a bid to pacify his friend's fuming temper. "She's here in a place she feels safe and comfortable. The two of you know the majority of people in this bar and he is aware of that."

"Then why is he plying her full of tequila?" Don snapped venomously. "You know what tequila does to her and so does he."

"I'm sure you'll get to reap the benefits of Grace without inhibitions later on." Danny reminded his friend, as Flack teetered on his last nerve.

"Fuck it I am going over there." Don decided, pushing himself to his feet.

Danny's hand gripped the other man's shirt and yanked him back into his seat with a hard thud.

"You better let go of me Messer or so help me God..."

"Flack stop being such a chick and sit the hell down. You want Grace to think you don't trust her?" Danny snarked, keeping his grip on the other man.

Don narrowed his vibrant blue eyes at Danny, squirming in his seat as Faraday placed a sliver of lemon between his wife's lips causing her to draw back so quickly she almost fell off her stool.

"I'm supposed to just sit here and watch this." he muttered, rubbing the back of his head anxiously.

"We could go somewhere else." Danny offered.

"We can't leave them alone, I know full well he intends to take her back to his hotel room tonight. If we leave, it will just drive me crazy thinking about it." Don growled, rubbing both of his hands over his face.

He was definitely in hell.


Grace was drunk. The room was tilting as she sat as still as she could on the bar stool so she didn't fall off. She was already fully aware that Don was going to kill her. She hadn't mean to lower her guard so much around Jack but somewhere between the restaurant and the bar, the bottle of wine that the two of them had shared had hit her. She didn't remember drinking very much but then again she never remembered her glass becoming empty at any point during the evening.

"I remember when I used to use my lips to take this out of your mouth." Jack drawled, holding up the sliver of lemon before pressing it into her hand.

It was her turn again it appeared. She had been throwing way too many shots down her neck, it was starting to give her a headache. She hated the Truth Game, it was a pity she had only just remembered she wasn't very good at it.

"Your not allowed to talk about the body shots." she informed Jack as that devil may care grin spread across his features.

That was how it started between the two of them. He would start talking about something vulgar or obscene that they had dabbled in and soon enough they were recounting their wildest sexual experiences. That usually led to them darting back to the nearest bed and doing a little experimentation of their own.

Jesus, she was so hot right now. Her skin was prickling with anticipation at the thought of her husband's impressive naked body. She wished Don were here to take her home, she would do such god damn naughty things to him. Her nerve endings sizzled with desire at the thought of crawling in next to his sleeping form and waking him up with her lips wrapped around his erect cock. He enjoyed it immensely when she surprised him like that and the idea of his husky groans in her ears and his fingers grasping in her hair were enough to make her panties wet. God, she wanted him, all of him inside her right now.

Her phone was already out while Jack gestured to the bartender for another round of tequila shots. Her fingers skimmed over the keys as she tapped out a message. She didn't know where Don was but she sure as hell wanted him home in the next ten minutes so she could touch him in all of those places that made him whisper such dirty, wild things into her ear.

My panties are soaked from thinking about all the naughty things I wanna do to you. Don't make me come down to the precinct and make up an excuse to fuck you. Home 10 mins?

The reply was almost instantaneous.

Bathroom in Reilly's now!

Grace glanced around the room surprised. Her eyes sought out his familiar dark head. Her pretty face curved up into a wide smile as she saw his taunt muscular back disappearing through the crowd. She was already on her feet, stepping around Jack muttering something incoherent about the bathroom.

The moment she stepped inside the confined space Don was on her. His fingers snapping the lock shut behind Grace as he pressed her back against the door. Her mouth was on his needy and demanding, her tongue teased the full shape of his lips, separating them in order to deepen their kiss. Don's fingers were already working on the buttons of his jeans.

"It's been driving me crazy watching you with him." He muttered against the corner of her mouth.

His jeans were pooled on the floor along with his underwear. Grace was already naked from the waist down, he groaned out loud as she grabbed his hand and guided his fingers into her slick wetness.

"Trust me, all of this is from thinking about you." she promised, her slim fingers wrapped around his throbbing erection.

His hands came to rest on her naked hips, fingertips digging into her tender flesh as he rubbed the tip of his cock against her moist folds.

"Fuck Grace, your so wet for me." he whispered into her hair, grabbing her ass and hoisting her up around his waist.

Grace's smooth thighs locked around his hips, her ankles hooking the curve of his strong muscular back on either side.

"Show me that I'm yours." she murmured as her hands came to rest upon his broad shoulders.

He plunged into her with one hard swift stroke, his mouth smothering her cry of ecstasy as he pinned her between his body and the door. He filled her entirely, they were the perfect fit and the feel of her tightness surrounding around his erect member was nearly enough to push him over the edge. The sensation was heightened only by the fact that they were doing this somewhere forbidden.

"Your mine." he growled into her ear as he pounded into his wife's welcoming body. "I'm the only person that your going to fuck ever again. The only man your gonna love."

Her back was arching underneath his hands, she writhed making that beautiful tiny whimper as they rocked together. He could feel that deep familiar hum of energy deep inside her starting to vibrate as her inner walls hugged his dick causing a deep feral groan to emit from low in his throat.

Grace's teeth grazed the hollow of his neck, the pain mingled with the pleasure as she sucked at his skin. He didn't care she was going to leave a Hickey as evidence of their coupling, in fact it gave him a thrill knowing that she had marked him as her own. All that mattered to Don was this moment as he fucked her stunningly sexual body into oblivion. She was his and his only, taking her like this under the nose of another man was reaffirming his claim and he knew he wasn't the only one getting off on it.

Grace bit him as she came. Her thighs squeezed around his waist in rapture. Her muscles clenched around his cock as he drove into her one last time burying himself right up to the hilt. Don's entire body shuddered as he climaxed deep inside her supple body. Grace was panting as her forehead came to rest his shoulder, he could feel her trembling in his arms as he supported her weight.

"Jesus, you can't do this to me again." Don breathed into her ear. "I can't control myself."

"I could never leave you." Grace whispered, pressing a butterfly kiss to the curve of his jaw. "Not for Jack. Not for anything or anyone."

"I needed to see for myself." he explained, gently removing himself from her body. "I trust you but I sure as hell don't trust him."

"After tonight I don't think I trust him." Grace submitted, searching for her panties and jeans.

"He wants you." Don told her firmly, tugging up his own jeans. "And I don't like that."

Grace could see the expression on his face. It had been the same when he'd locked the bathroom door. This was a first for her. Don was never the type of guy to be possessive and when she thought back to the previous conversation they had she could see it lurking behind his eyes as he tried to hide it from her. She had been so stupid. Things were different now, she was married and she should have seen the position she was putting her husband in. It had been hard for Don sitting there and letting her own decisions on Jack but he had done it. He had let her discover things for herself because he trusted her.

"I'm sorry." she murmured, wrapping her arms around Don's waist and enfolding him into a tight embrace. "I'm not good at this."

"We've been married a month. There's a lot to learn." he told her, pressing a feather light kiss to her hairline. "A lot changes."

"I think I need to tell him that. Things have changed and I don't want to see him any more." Grace said, tilting her head up to meet Don's vibrant blue eyes.

"Is that what you want?" Don asked her out right searching her grey eyes for the truth and finding himself rewarded.

Grace nodded.

"That part of my life died back then when he left, it shouldn't have continued afterwards. I was holding on to the only affirmation I had at the time."

As she spoke she knew that those words were true. Jack had been the person to make her feel good about herself. He was a replacement for the relationship she really wanted, the one that she was frightened to admit even to herself that she needed at the time. The one that she had right now.

"He was a stand in." she said finally.

"That's gonna hurt when you tell him." Don stated as he undid the lock on the bathroom door.

"I'm sure they'll be plenty of beautiful women to pick him back up." Grace shrugged, before taking her husband's hand and pulling him back through the door.


They were lying fully clothed on the bed in silence, both of them mulling over the last hour they had spent in Riley's bar. Don's hands were resting on his stomach as he stared at the ceiling replaying Faraday's words in his mind. When they had left the bathroom Grace had gone back to talk to Faraday at the bar and he had dutifully returned to his seat alongside Danny so he could watch the events unfold.

Somewhere in between things had escalated. Faraday hadn't liked the words that were coming out of Grace's mouth he guessed, she was blunt and brutal when she was backed into a corner and Don has spent the night watching Faraday do just that. So when Faraday had stomped over to his table, Don was already on his feet spoiling for a fight. He had watched this man flirt, leer and attempt to seduce is wife in a bar full of people that they knew. This had never been about Grace's happiness and that nauseated Don. Whatever game Faraday had been playing was in his own best interests.

"Your a piece of work taking advantage of her the way you did Flack. You knew she was in an abusive relationship and you did nothing about it? What kinda man are you?" Faraday was yelling coming to stand toe to toe with Don.

"The kinda man that sticks by her. I was there for her, I held her hand through the arraignment, I stayed up all night with Grace when she was too scared to sleep so I think the real question here is what kind of man are you?" Don snapped back, towering over the other man.

He had a good few inches on Faraday and Don would have loved nothing more than to punch out this son of a bitch. His fist was already clenching by his side at the words that rained down on him like tiny pinpricks. Grace's abuse was a sensitive subject and Faraday had always known what buttons to push when it came to her. It was what had gotten him that black eye the first time round. The one that neither of them had never told Grace about.

"The kind that wouldn't force a marriage of obligation upon her shoulders. The kind that knows that your never gonna be good enough for her. She married you because she thinks she owes you for rescuing her. " Faraday snarled, his nostrils flaring as the potential for violence stirred between the two men. "Your worthless Flack, your a Homicide Detective with a high school diploma and no future. Your a pathetic waste of time and I think it's a pity that bomb blast didn't kill you before you had a chance to play the sympathy card."

The sound of Grace's slap resounded through the air like a gunshot as the entire room fixed on her small enraged form quivering with fury as she stood between them.

"You spiteful awful man." Grace accused. "How dare you treat my husband like your better than him? Don is twice the man you will ever be Jack. Your acting like a spoilt child tossing your toys out of the pram because your not getting what you wanted."

Jack's hands gripped her arms as he dipped his head to meet her eyes.

"I am offering you a way out sugar. You don't have to be with him." Jack told her as he shook her briefly.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't love him. I never asked you to come back, I never wanted it." she spat trying to jerk herself away but Jack held on to her firmly.

"Really cher, is he what you want?" Jack asked her infuriated as he shook her again, harder this time.

Don's fingers were already locked on Faraday's arm, disentangling him and Grace from one another. He twisted the other man around in an instant and wretched Faraday's arm up his back, feeling the pressure in the joint tighten as he used just that extra bit of leverage in order to restrain him. Don admitted the yelp of surprise and of course the sudden admission of pain on Faraday's part was beyond satisfying.

"You do anything like that again and I will break your arm." he growled into the other man's ear before shoving Faraday towards the door.

Faraday tilted his head towards Grace in one final effort, his eyes bored into Grace's as something passed between them. Don had never seen such iciness from his wife before and as Faraday snorted Don realized he had had just witnessed the death of whatever fragile connection had been forged between the two of them.

"You could have had everything." Faraday taunted. "Instead your too stubborn to admit you made a mistake. I won't be coming back for you Grace."

"I never asked for you to come back in the first place. Your just too bitter to remember that it was always about you Jack, about what you wanted." she pointed out calmly, folding her arms over her chest.

Faraday hadn't had a reply to that.

"You sober yet?" Don asked Grace, tucking his arm behind his head in attempt to get more comfortable as he shifted down into the quilt.

"The rooms stopped spinning if that's what you mean." Grace groaned out loud, rubbing both hands over her face trying to block out the images. "I wish tonight had never happened."

"He shouldn't have grabbed you." Don seethed, still infuriated at the memory of Faraday's hands on his wife.

It had taken every single ounce of self control he owned not to batter the other man senseless at the violation.

"If it had been you that hit him, he would have pressed formal charges and you don't need that hanging over you while your trying to put yourself forward for the Sergeant's exam." Grace murmured wearily, putting her hand over her eyes in attempt to ward off the sick feeling lurching in her stomach.

"Do you really think I saved you?" Don asked abruptly tilting his head so his cheek was flat on the pillow studying the profile of her pretty face.

"Yea." Grace said exhaling out of her mouth as she closed her eyes. "I wasn't doing great. I would have dropped the charges against Will and ran if it hadn't been for you."

"Do you believe in soul mates?" Don questioned rolling on to his side so that the two of them were touching.

There was silence for a second as Grace edged even closer into his inviting warmth. He couldn't read her facial expression as she considered his question. He had no idea why it was so important to him that he heard her answer. All that he knew was that he needed to know if it ran as deep for her as it did for him. They had never talked about this before but he knew the moment the two of them had touched six years ago that she was made for him.

"I didn't before I met you but when I first shook your hand..." Grace paused, recalling that feeling of homeliness. "I feel like I knew you before we met if that makes sense? I had to know more about you, you became this puzzle to work out because I didn't understand how I could care so much about someone I barely knew. After that whole thing with Gavin Moran I could see how badly you were hurting and I wanted to take it all away. You fascinated me, you still do."

Don placed his hand on her stomach rubbing gentle circles over her belly with the heel of his palm. He knew Grace liked the motion when she was feeling ill, it both soothed and comforted her.

"I was your Rubix Cube." Don said humorously.

"It took me four hours to figure out the Rubix cube. I learn something new about you everyday." Grace informed him, her voice fading as she began to drift off.

Don smiled as his thumb rubbed over the set of rings that decorated her left hand.

"I miss not having you beside me in bed when I go to sleep." he murmured into her ear as she shifted to curl up with her back pressing against his chest.

Her fingers laced in his, placing his hand above her heart so he could feel her rhythmic beating underneath his fingertips. It was a reminder that she was still right here under his hands exactly where she should be.

"I missed you too."

Chapter 43

Summary:

Grace and Don have their honeymoon.

Chapter Text

Barcelona was hotter than Don had imagined. He was used to the heat and humidity back in New York, even though he cursed the summer months when he had to work. The caress of the sun was different here though, he could enjoy the weather as well as the beauty of this predominant city. Walking hand in hand down the cobbled streets with Grace as she pointed out the architecture was blissful. He hadn't felt this relaxed in a long time. He had forgotten what it was like to take a vacation outside the US.

The truth was you didn't see sights like the Barcelona FC Museum back in the states, despite the fact he wasn't an enthusiastic fan of soccer, the tour had been worth seeing. The dedication to the sport was immense and Don was left comparing New York's homage to their own sport against the magnificence of the beauteous stadium.

He had long lost track of the tours they had gone on over the past few days. He found he enjoyed surveying the impressive architecture as Grace led him with eager footsteps, explaining details on each individual site. He liked listening to the sound of her smoky dulcet voice as she talked even though the information fell on deaf ears. He was never bored by her statements, in truth he was happy to see her so animated about something outside of the crime lab.

Barcelona brought out a different side to his wife, one that he felt he didn't get to see often enough. In this city Grace's eyes shone with elation, her posture was confident and he could tell by the way she hummed under her breath as they walked that her spirit was serene and content.

Don had never seen her so carefree before. Back in New York the job weighted heavily upon both of their shoulders, they had a responsibility to protect and serve the city and it's people. Here there was nothing more to worry about than life's simple pleasures.

Don found himself entertained by Grace's change in style and demeanour upon setting foot in this country. At home his wife always wore trousers, she was practical and professional, however seeing her in flimsy summer dresses and barely there bikinis was the natural order of things here in Barcelona. Grace was more feminine in this city, there was a softer edge to her. She didn't have to care or wonder what anybody else thought and apparently that made her more mellow than he had anticipated.

There was nothing for her to fight here or battle against. He hadn't realized until they strode through the streets of this foreign city how much she responded like an urban warrior back home. Her guard was always up, he couldn't help but think that was a side effect of their job. In a way he was glad because it meant that his insane protective side could rest a little knowing that she was prepared for whatever came her way, on the opposite side of the coin toss he resented it. Why shouldn't his wife be able to relax on the streets of their own city?

At the current moment he was straddling a white sun lounger clad in a black wife beater and green cargo shorts that fell just above his knees, a pair of navy blue flip-flops attached to his feet. A straw hat was perched on the top of his head on a jaunty angle, a newspaper spread out in front of him from where he had been studying the news of the world in English. Back home he barely had a second to cast a glance at the Ledger or the Times, relaxing in their borrowed villa in front of their very own pool he had all time time in the world to do whatever he wanted.

Don was distracted by the sound of light splashing from the pool in front of him as Grace slipped into the water. He watched her over the top of his aviators captivated by her motions as she pushed off from the edge of the pool to swim a length. Her body moving with an elegance and fluidity that hypnotised him as she swam with long strong strokes. She did this every morning under the gaze of the sun before the two of them ate breakfast.

The first time she had shimmied the little denim shorts off in front of him to reveal that clinging black bikini he had almost rushed her back inside. On her the swimsuit looked like lingerie and it sent a pulse of desire vibrating through him that she was confident enough to show off that lean sensual body, scars and all.

I could get used to this Don thought as Grace tapped the wall of the pool with her hand before beginning her second length.

The two of them could start playing the lotto again and retire here on the winnings. He would like that, he decided. Just the two of them in a villa in Barcelona trawling the local farmer's market, picking out fresh fruit and meat for their evening meal. Grace could read on a sun lounger while he rubbed lotion into that delicate skin during the day times, he could play some soccer with the locals like yesterday, before coming home and making sweet passionate love to his wife in the cool nights.

That was what life should be about, no complications. It alarmed Don how comfortable he was with nothing to do. He expected to feel restless and on edge. Grace and him were both headstrong, proactive people. He had half thought that the two of them would have been climbing the walls and fighting. Their personal time was precious back home and here they had it in abundance, admittedly he had originally suspected the vacation was going to end in bloodshed. Instead their delayed honeymoon had been complete paradise.

Don sighed as he raised his vibrant blue eyes to the cloudless sky, it was almost a shame the two of them had to return home tomorrow.


It was their last night in the city and they were strolling hand in hand in the surf from the beach. Grace's sandles were dangling from her fingertips as the tiny waves washed against her ankles. She was wearing one of those pretty little summer dresses again. This one was white and made of cotton with blue little flowers on it with thin straps that led to a sweetheart neckline. Her chocolate brown hair was loose and free fluttering in the breeze behind her as her bare feet splashed in the sea.

Their fingers were entwined as they walked side by side in silence drinking in the scent of the ocean. Grace had never felt as tranquil as she did now. Her thoughts were floating around her head instead of pinging like fireworks. She recognised this luxurious sensation and she adored it. This was the first time she had been at peace in the longest time. Her cheek came to rest on Don's shoulder as she paused drawing him to a halt beside her in the water.

"I'm gonna miss this." Grace said quietly as they listened to the distant roar of the sea.

"You don't miss Manhattan and all the bright lights?" He teased her, tilting his head to look up at the stars above them.

They didn't get to see those very often, the dazzling bulbs from their own city drowned out any chance of that back home.

"Or being woke up by a call out at three am or interrupted at a bad moment?" Grace said light heartedly.

Don sighed at that thought. The night the two of them returned to New York they were back on call. At the time they wanted to make the most of all the hours they had in Barcelona, now he dreaded the prospect of going back home. The jet lag would knock them both for six and that didn't include whatever new horror they were going to be stepping back into. The world kept turning even when you were on your honeymoon.

"We could retire here. Gives you something to look forward to in thirty years time." Don replied, half serious.

Grace tipped back her head and laughed and Don found his lips twitching at the sound of that genuine mirth. God she didn't know the things that noise did to him. She looked gorgeous under the moonlight in that dress, like his very own angel sent to save him from himself. His arm looped around her waist, drawing her to him gently.

"I don't care where we go so long as I'm with you." Grace told him, her voice low as her free hand smoothed over the rough stubble that lined his jaw.

Don's vibrant blue eyes locked on hers as they stood at the edge of the shore. Don closed his eyes as her fingertips traced over his cheekbone, his lips brushing the pulse point of her wrist.

"We're going home tomorrow." he whispered against her sensitive skin. "Let's leave the packing until the morning and make the most of tonight."


Don was lying flat on his back in bed, the fresh white sheets tangled around his legs as his wife's slender form writhed above him. His cool hands were tracing the outline of her sensual form encrypting it into his memory. He knew Grace by touch alone, he knew what made her rampant and wanting, the places that drove her to whimper in anticipation and of course how she loved for him to pleasure her. It never ceased to amaze him how strong the physical and mental connection between them was. He could read her body language like a journal of her thoughts.

Recently in New York their sex was rushed although satisfying, it was something they barely had time for along with sleep and other essentials. Yet ever since they had arrived here in Barcelona all they had done was take their time to explore each other all over again. She had taken him to dizzying new heights over the past few days, drawing out his orgasm until it was his turn to beg and plead with her for release.

Even now their love making was slow and delirious, Don felt like every single one of his nerve endings were on fire as she manipulated his body with whispered words and tiny cries of ecstasy as they neared completion.

He loved being inside her like this. Her resilient body was so welcoming and tight around his cock as he arched his hips burying himself even deeper inside her. She had been so wet for him when he entered her. His hands had glided all over her smooth flesh as he caressed her entire body tenderly. He wanted her imprinted on his memory. He wanted to remember these moments so vividly he relived them in his dreams.

Grace's slim fingers stroked over the line of his rib cage before she traced the pattern of his scar with her fingertips. Her hands felt so good on him, he was moaning out loud as her thrusts began to pick up the pace.

She was his addiction, his narcotic, he could never get enough of her. Everything about her drove him crazy, her sharp mind, her kind soul, her off the hook body.

Don's hands grasped her ass tightly as she bent low to capture his lips. Her mouth was hot and all consuming as her tongue mingled with his. Their fingers entwined, Grace pinned his left hand to the mattress as they consummated their union.

"I love you." he whispered into the corner of her mouth, his body stretching taunt underneath her as his lower back began to tingle at the sensation of his impending orgasm.

"Forever and always." she promised.

Her breathing hitched as her fingers pressed hard into the spaces between his knuckles, her muscles were beginning to contract around him as her entire body began to tense.

"I'm close Grace." he hissed through his teeth, his body flexing as his head tipped back into the pillow. "So close."

"I'm right there with you." she breathed, smothering his mouth with her own.

Their climax was incredible. Don felt like he was drowning in the euphoria as he held Grace's hips securely in place at the final moment of their coupling. She exploded around him,shrieking his name as her body jerked and bucked in abandonment riding his cock for all that it was worth.

Jesus she was like a drug. This fascinating, amazing woman was his, all of his and he could scarcely bring himself to believe it. They were both panting as Grace removed herself gently from his body before stretching out along side him purring with contentment. His love for this woman was tremendous. He couldn't remember life before Grace Sullivan and he knew if she ever departed here would be no life after.

His arms wrapped around her supple form, fingertips zigzagging up and down the curve of her spine. Her nose tickled along the trail of his throat before she pressed a tender kiss to his jaw. Her cheek came to rest upon the solid planes of his chest as his hand enclosed around hers and placed it just over his hammering heart before the two of them began to slip away into sweet oblivion.

Chapter 44

Summary:

A case of Don's is overturned.

Chapter Text

Don was nervous. Grace could tell from the tension set deep within his shoulders as he stood in front of the mirror winding his lucky sky blue tie around his neck. His forehead was crinkled with irritation as he frowned at the offending piece of material in his hands. Usually he could fix a tie with his eyes closed but this morning he was preoccupied.

Grace noted the presence of his power suit as she lingered in the doorway a peach coloured satin robe tied tightly around her naked body. She had raked her hair back into a messy bun when she had gotten up to make him coffee whilst he was in the shower this morning. She understood his need to feel invincible today. Everyday she marvelled at the strength and perseverance her husband displayed in their face of their job and she thanked God for bringing him back home safety to her. Yet the justice system wasn't perfect and upholding the law most certainly took it's toll in circumstances like this.

Don scowled as he unwound the tie for a third time to start over again. On a regular day when he chose to wear a suit this would be a simple, almost automatic action but today it felt stiff and unpractised. His mind was wandering elsewhere, filling in details and blanks about the case that was dogging him this morning. He would never forget Laura Mathews, he still kept the pamphlet from her funeral in the drawer where he kept all of his important documents.

"Here let me help." Grace said softly, placing his NYPD coffee mug down on the bedside table.

She stepped up in front of him, taking the tie from his hands as he turned his collar up allowing her to loop the material around his throat. Don tipped his cleanly shaven chin up to give her space to work.

"Just do your best, you never know we might get lucky." Grace murmured as she draw the knot up to the top button of his shirt, fixing it straight.

"I don't see how." Don remarked drily, using his fingers to fold his collar down. "Laura Mathews is probably turning over in her grave right now over this mess."

Since Craig Hansan's demise, the DA's office had been combing through his cases over the past three years searching for any related incidents of evidence tampering. Aside from the Riaz case there had been one other case-file that Hansan had used to search for signs of his wife's infidelity and that had been the Laura Mathews case. Don would never forget that case as long as he lived.

Seeing the kind of damage Dale Maplin had inflicted on that girl's body haunted his nightmares. He had adducted Laura Mathews from their shared apartment building and proceeded to torture the girl within an inch of her life. He would never forget the familiar churning in his stomach nor the acid that burned in the back of his throat as he reviewed the evidence that was etched into young red head's flesh.

The catalogue seemed endless. Burns on her back from a curling iron, thick neat lines where Maplin had experimented trying to work out how to inflict the maximum amount of pain with the blade without damaging the muscle. The bruises upon her face from the beating he had given her after raping the woman's mind and body, worst of all was what wasn't in the pictures. The hours of psychological torture she had endured listening to the sick fuck torment her.

Even after Maplin had been incarcerated it hadn't been enough, those words still echoed in Laura's mind, the scars still evident on her face and body. She was made to look at the atrocities that sadist had committed day in and day out and there was no release from that. In the end she'd escaped the only way she knew how, she'd swallowed a bottle of sleeping tablets and .

"You'll do her right Don." Grace reassured him, her hands rubbing up and down his biceps in an attempt to sooth his spirit.

What was happening today didn't make things any easier to cope with. The DA was calling Don in to go over the case to see if there was anything they might of missed so that they could chase it down and make sure that Maplin stayed right were he belonged in federal prison. As in the Riaz case all the evidence that had nailed Maplin's coffin shut was now admissible, coupled with the fact the complainant was dead the case was falling down around them. The only hope they had was that Don had overlooked something but the truth was they both knew how through her husband was. The case was dead in the water.

"He's gonna do it all over again." Don conceded as if reading her thoughts. "That case was airtight."

"You go in there with that attitude and your letting that son of a bitch win." Grace chided, her hands coming to rest on her hips.

Her expression was ferocious as she stood before him. His own little warrior clad in a peach coloured robe that fell mid thigh. He couldn't help but smile at that sight as he pulled the grey matching suit jacket over his broad shoulders.

"Show no fear right?" Don reminded himself as he adjusted the suit jacket, pulling the cuffs over the sleeves of this stark white shirt.

"Never." Grace uttered, her palms smoothing over his chest as she rose on tiptoes. "No matter what happens today, we'll make it right."

"Wish me luck." Don told her, his warm hands clasping her waist to steady her balance.

"Good luck." Grace mumbled, pressing a feather light kiss to his lips to say goodbye.


"He told me I needed to smile more." She had told Don.

That was right before the bastard Dale Maplin had stuck the knife in her mouth. He couldn't help but look at the wrinkled white scar that stretched her smile even further across her face in both directions. The skin was tight as it arced towards her cheek bones, her expression was trapped in a grotesque permanent grin. Laura had caught him looking. He hadn't offered up an explanation instead he kept her gaze, meeting those mournful green orbs.

"Everybody looks at the scars." she told him, lowering her eyes.

Once upon a time she wouldn't have been afraid to look him directly in the face. Since the attack that had left her body and soul so brutally ravaged she was finding it hard to look at anybody these days especially herself.

Don fixed his eyes on hers making sure he poured the wealth of his sincerity into his features so she understood that he meant every word that was about to cross his lips.

"I'm looking at the survivor underneath them."

Don reviewed the linebacker of a man in front of him with a hostile glare. He'd left Angell back in the car around the corner. This wasn't her fight and she trusted him enough to know that he wouldn't partake in anything stupid.

Prison it would seem hadn't had as much of an effect on Maplin as Don would have liked. He looked almost jovial as he stepped off the prison bus with only a duffel bag to his name. His towering frame took him an inch or two above Don and his shoulders were set wider. Apparently Rikers had a good gym membership going for them, last time he had seen Maplin he'd been thinner and less muscular. His thick dark hair was as wild and untamed as the beard that ghosted the line of his jawbone. Even in his untidy state Maplin still had an commanding presence. Don could see women casting a second and even third look at the convict as they toddled past in high heels. It made Don queasy to see this man walking the streets again.

"Detective Flack." Dale Maplin greeted with a broad smile across his unkempt features.

Maplin was standing before him, his dark eyes were like vapid pools as he stared down the lead detective from his case. The two of them stood on the pavement in silence. Maplin was relaxed, a smug smirk spreading across his features as he took in the other man's stature. Don's arms were crossed over his chest, his legs apart and his jaw set. He never looked away from the now ex con.

Maplin had to applaud that. Detective Flack had seen his work and the man wasn't scared of him. That was good to know. He wondered if it would be the same way if the detective was on the receiving end of the curling iron or the thin metal blade. Would he grind his teeth through the excruciating pain or would Detective Flack struggle and scream the way Laura Mathews had?

"You know I only let her go because I was bored playing with her when she broke." Maplin chuckled. "It was no fun when she stopped fighting."

The expression on Detective Flack's face was worth it. His entire body tightened in rage, those striking blue eyes exhibited every single emotion the other man was feeling and Maplin licked his lips, relishing it. The horror in that man's features would feed him just for a little while until he came up with a more satisfying solution.

Don grabbed his arm as he attempted to step around him. His grip was like a vice as his fingers dug painfully into Maplin's flesh. A flush of indignant rage flushed through him as the fist of his right hand clenched. God, he wanted to beat Maplin until he was nothing more than a mangled mess underneath his fists.

"I'm gonna make it my personal mission to make sure you end up back where you belong for what you did to Laura Mathews." Don seethed, his eyes burning with the heat of his fury.

"For which part?" Maplin questioned, meeting the detective's gaze with a venomous smile. "The part where I stuck the blade in her mouth? Or when I pressed the curling iron into that perky young skin?"

The muscle in Detective Flack's check twitched. Maplin could see he was struggling to hold together his composure. He found himself enjoying the detective's change in demeanour, there was something so stimulating about watching a man with such authority lose control. He wondered what Detective Flack would do if it was stripped away from him piece by piece?

"You said you understood. You told me you wanted to know what it felt like when I raked the blade across her skin when we were talking in the interrogation room." Maplin pouted as he wrenched his arm out of the detective's grasp.

"Your a sadist Maplin, I'm nothing like you." Don spat as the other man breezed past him.

"What a crying shame that'll turn out to be." Maplin called back over his shoulder before he disappeared into the crowd.

Chapter 45

Summary:

Don contemplates the aftermath of Maplin's release from prison.

Chapter Text

Don was smoking again. Grace could smell it the moment she stepped into the apartment. She supposed it was better than drinking. She had half expected to come home and to discover him passed out on the couch or at the bar after Angell's heads up about the DA's dismissal of the Mathews case. Drinking she could cope with. Smoking meant it was something much worse, something that cut a hell of a lot deeper.

It hadn't been her case, she hadn't seen the damage first hand, but Grace had heard about it. She'd seen Don's eyes after each harrowing interview with Laura Mathews, she had never seen him look so haunted and drained before this.

When Laura had killed herself Don had shut down. He couldn't help the victim and it weighed heavily upon his conscience. Sometimes it was too much, people weren't equipped to deal with that amount of torment. Only someone with a strong support network and the willpower of steel could get through something that traumatic.

Don had done his best to take care of Laura. He had given her his cellphone number in case of an emergency, he had picked her up and dropped her off after interviews. Don had even escorted her to her first meeting with her support group, he had thought he was getting through to her but in the end her body and soul had been obliterated by that monster.

Don barely looked at her when she popped her head out of the open window to see him sitting there inhaling the nicotine from the cigarette between his fingers. His jeans hugged his hips as he stared out across the city from his seat on the cool, metal fire escape. He was wearing white socks and no shoes, there were goosebumps up and down his naked biceps and forearms from the decreasing temperature. His torso was clad only in a comfortable black T-shirt.

Grace climbed out of the window carefully before dropping down beside him. Their hips bumped each other as she slid into the small space. Despite what had happened today her presence was reassuring as the silence stretched between them. There was nothing she could say to take away the hollowness that resounded inside his body right now.

"He's gonna do it again." Don said sullenly, tapping the ash off the end of the cigarette into the empty plant pot they used as an ashtray whenever one of them needed the nicotine hit.

"You'll be there to catch him." Grace told him as a matter of fact.

They couldn't anticipate the next victim but Grace prayed for them. She hoped that somehow Maplin would fail or someone else would come forward. The evidence they had gathered from Laura Mathews was wasted and only something new would suffice. Catching criminals was only part of their job, ensuring that the bastards remained locked up was also another burden set upon their shoulders.

Don passed Grace the half smoked cigarette, still lit. Grace took it from his numb fingers before pressing it to her lips and taking a drag.

"Your cold." She stated after exhaling the chemical induced fumes. "How long have you been out here?"

Don tipped his wrist towards himself so he could see the time on the watch face. He winced before answering her question.

"A few hours apparently." Don said, running his hand through his fine black hair.

"You can't keep going over this in your head, it'll drive you crazy." She told him, placing her free hand on his kneecap and squeezed it through the denim.

"I know, I just keep seeing the scars on that girl and the smile on his face. He enjoyed what he did." Don submitted bitterly, shaking his head.

"Don, you need to let it go right now. You have to pull yourself out of that world and back into this one. I know its hard but you can't let this drag you under." Grace told him.

There was a twinge of pleading in her voice as she spoke and he could tell that she was a tiny bit frightened. It was rare for him to become so invested in a case. There was always a barrier for him between their home life and the job and now he couldn't separate the two.

"I don't know how." Don muttered as he rubbed both hands over his exhausted features. "Last time I felt so helpless..." he trailed off.

He didn't need to finish that sentence. Grace remembered well enough what had occurred after she had been shot. Don would stay wired for days if she didn't help him relax, God knew what trouble he would get himself into. Grace crushed the cigarette butt into the plant pot before clasping her husband's hand in hers and guiding him firmly back through the window.


Grace had been right about the bath. It had been such a long time since Don allowed himself to immerse into something as heavenly as this. He was usually a shower guy, yet there was a guilty pleasure in the warm soapy bubbles that caressed his naked skin.

His muscles were unfurling under the intense heat, he could feel his thoughts falling away as he slipped deeper into the steaming water. The tension of the day was leaving his body and he was starting to feel curiously lighter. Whatever feminine crap Grace had dumped into the bath was working it's magic on his senses. It was already making him calmer and alluringly drowsy.

Don hadn't slept well the night before, images of Laura Mathews had haunted his dreams. He had stepped out of bed at three am so that he wouldn't wake Grace with his incessant tossing and turning.

Instead he had awoken her with his absence. Grace didn't sleep well without him by her side, he thought that was an insecurity left over from her previous relationships. Faraday's leaving in the night to catch the flight back to San Francisco and Hamlin had left her with an anticipation for violence.

When she woke up and the bed was empty she understood it meant something was wrong so when she trailed him outside to the kitchen he already had a mug of hot tea waiting for her. They had stayed awake for the next hour talking the case through before she had taken him back to bed and folded him in her arms. Her touch was tender and loving, her fingertips traced patterns up his spine as he buried his face deep into her hair and inhaled her addictive scent deeply. He had fallen asleep not long later.

Grace always had a passive effect on him, even now as he lay here saturating in this deliciously hot water. She had instinctively known what he needed and she had forced him to cooperate against his own brooding mood. He had to come to terms with what had happened today, the cogs in his head were slowing down now that he had processed the information at hand.

Just let it go for now, Grace had whispered as she helped him undress.

There was nothing sexual about her motives, she was taking care of him as a parent would a child. Which led to other thoughts, ones he couldn't bring himself to indulge in at the current moment. The day had been strained enough and Don had no fight left him. After this bath he needed to sleep and regenerate so he could stand up and battle through the next day.

He had no idea how long he stayed in that bathtub, he just needed the day to soak right out of him and in the end when he did pulled out the plug it felt almost cathartic.

When Don left the bathroom he felt like a new man, clad in a black wifebeater and loose grey sweats he watched his wife from the doorway in the kitchen as her hips danced to the tune of her lime green Ipod. She was singing along in a low husky voice to as she fried a steak on the modern stove. Thankfully his wife sung better than she danced.

There was a picture in his wallet of her clad in a sexy little black dress holding a twenties style microphone as she preformed 'Mustang Sally' at a little karaoke bar on 51st. They had been forced to attend for the sake of Adam's birthday. It had taken the better half of a bottle of bourbon to get her up there and when she did it was hilarious watching her play to the crowd.

Everybody had gotten so drunk that night he had no idea how they hadn't ended the evening in lock up. He had a vague humiliating memory of him and Danny belting out 'Living On A Prayer' before Messer had fallen off the stage whilst the two of them air guitared to the solo. No one from the crime lab mentioned that night.

That had been the only night he had allowed himself to overindulge in alcohol since Mac and him had had 'the talk' back in Terrence's apartment and he hadn't had eyes for any other woman but the one that was standing in front of him right now.

Grace was clad in Adam's latest gift to his wife, a Wonderwoman apron. A bowl of plush green and red salad was set down on the table. There was a jacket potato sitting on each of their plates, still steaming, fresh out the oven. Grace had lit some floating candles in the large crystal pallet her mother had given them as a wedding gift. Mrs Sullivan had not been impressed that her daughter hadn't known the difference between a glass casserole dish and an antique candle holder. Frank Sullivan had chortled at his wife's dismay and slipped Don a pair of Knick's season tickets while Mrs Sullivan wasn't looking.

A bottle of ice cold beer was sitting on a coaster before his usual seat, a glass of red wine in front of hers. His hand came to rest on her lower back, covering the Celtic Knot tattoo on her lower as he tried valiantly not to surprise her.

Grace removed her earbuds before wrapping the headphones around the Ipod before placing it on top of the microwave. Don's strong arms wrapped around Grace's waist, his chin coming to rest on her shoulder as Don murmured against crook of her neck.

"Your cooking dinner."

"I know it's a rare thing but I thought you deserved something special tonight." Grace said, leaning against his firm chest.

Grace shivered as Don's nose trailed along the curve of her throat before his lips followed suit. His mouth was by her ear when he whispered the words.

"I appreciate it."

He felt Grace's laugh resonate through his body as the sound echoed through the room like magic. He loved this woman, she had the ability to make him smile even in the darkest of circumstances.

"You cook better than I do." Grace complimented. "There's not really much that can go wrong with salad from a bag and steak."

"You don't give yourself enough credit." Don informed her with a snigger as his mind drifted back over her culinary disasters.

"Remember the first time I cooked for you after the Roller Derby case and the macaroni was burned so bad to the pan I had to throw it in the trash." Grace reminded him as Don's hands smoothed up and down the outline of her waist.

"While I tried to disconnect the fire alarm before the FDNY decided to show up because it caught fire." Don recounted with a snort. "Jesus aren't you glad I decided to teach you a few things after that like how not to ruin your dinner plates?"

"Hm cooking lessons with you..." Grace said with a ghost of a smile. "I always hoped they'd develop into more but you were too much of a gentleman to lay your hands on me."

"I'm not now." Don pointed out, his hands slipping underneath the hem of her ivy green vest top coming to rest on warm, soft skin. "And I'm not terrified of leaving you alone to cook any more."

"Touche." she uttered as Don withdrew from her welcoming body, giving her space to work.

He gathered up the cutlery from the drawer beside her as Grace used the spatula to shift the steak from the pan onto their plates. Don set out the dinner places before Grace put down each plate. She put down each meal before unwinding the Wonderwoman apron from her slender form and taking her seat.

"You marinated this." Don said, using his fork to point at the steak as he chewed the meat happily. "It's really good."

Grace raised her eyebrows as their gazes locked before the two of them broke into a shared grin.

"I had a good teacher."

Chapter 46

Summary:

Don and Grace discuss the prospect of children.

Chapter Text

It was their first day off together in over a fortnight and Grace was determined to enjoy every single second of it. The sun was shining down on her as she sipped from her cup of Starbucks taking in the world around her. She had caught herself doing that a lot lately, admiring the world.

Ever since they had gotten back from Barcelona two months before, she had been looking at the universe in a completely different way. Spending a few peaceful days happy and uninterrupted had worked wonders for her psyche. There was a serenity inside her that she had never felt and she was sure that Don was the main cause of it. That man had saved her life once upon a time and now he had healed the fractures that had been ripped into her soul.

"We could have sat down you know, so you didn't have to eat and walk." Grace commented with a smile as her husband folded the pizza slice in half in order to take a bite out of it without dropping any of the sauce onto his charcoal grey button up shirt.

"Nah, it's too busy in there and besides I know know how much your enjoying being outside in the sunlight." he told her, moaning in delight as he chewed on the pizza.

"True enough." Grace said, shaking her head as she watched Don eat. "I don't know why you love that place so much, I hate the pizza from there."

"That's because they put crushed carrots in the sauce, you think it's too sweet." Don explained, dusting the flour off his hands. "The crust is perfect and that doll, with the right amount of cheese is what makes the perfect pizza."

Grace pulled a face at the mention of carrots causing Don to roll his eyes light heartedly. Her pretty grey gaze came to rest on the window of the shop behind him as her facial expression softened. Don tilted his head to see what had caught her attention.

The window of the shop was full of baby clothing and accessories. There were baby-grows, toys, pacifiers and the tiniest set of booties he had never seen. He felt his own heart melt a little at the possibility of their own child wearing something that small one day.

They had never talked about children, not in the six years they had been friends and certainly not in the four months they had been married. He was enjoying life with Grace as his wife but he did feel from time to time that they were missing something more. He longed for a child of their own one day yet he had been concerned with bringing it up with his wife. They had taken a huge leap four months ago and he didn't want her to feel pressurized if she wasn't ready. He could wait if that's what she wanted, he wasn't going anywhere.

"You've been thinking about it too huh?" Don said, reading the profile of Grace's face before her hair fell over her delicate features.

"Maybe." she shrugged, before digging her hands into the pockets of her black woollen jacket as she stepped away from the window.

"Your freaking out." Don commented, quickening his step to keep up with his wife.

"The truth is I don't want you freaking out." Grace murmured, causing Don to reach out and grasp her arm lightly in order to slow her pace.

"Whoa doll, freak out about what?" Don exclaimed, his startling blue eyes lowered to her stomach. "Are we..."

Grace raked a hand through her loose hair before closing her eyes and exhaling before she answered.

"I thought we were a few weeks ago but we're not." Grace said quietly, wrapping her arms around herself as she looked away.

Don placed his hands on her arms, stroking up and down as her shoulders sagged.

"Your disappointed." Don stated softly.

Grace sucked in a breath.

"I'm just not meant to be a mother." she said, looking up into his gaze.

"Grace, that's not true." Don told her, his fingers threaded through her hair pushing it back behind her ears so he could cup her face with his hands. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You were on shift and I was scared. We never talked about having children. I mean do you even want babies?" Grace questioned, looking conflicted.

"Yea." Don said bluntly, looking her dead in the eye. "I want kids with you."

Grace let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding before reaching out and wrapping her arms around Don's torso burying her face into his chest. Don held her tightly as the tension drained out of her body. He could tell she had been frightened, terrified even of his reaction. Don didn't need a degree to work out why, a baby was life changing.

It was like throwing a bomb into a relationship. With marriage there was always divorce as an escape route. Put a child into the mix and there was no way out, the two of them would be bonded for eternity and beyond. There wasn't a chance in hell either of them would go their separate ways if there was a child involved.

"I'm not ready to do this yet." Grace murmured, clenching his shirt between her fists. "I want so badly to have a child of our own but I am scared of screwing it up."

"I can wait until your ready." Don whispered into her hairline.

"What if I'm never ready?" Grace asked him, her voice hushed as she peered up at him.

Don knew what she was really asking him and in his heart he knew the truth from the very moment their eyes met. He could live without a child if that's what she needed but he could never live without her. She was his life, if they grew old together and alone he could live with that.

"It's not a deal breaker." he confirmed. "I'll still be your husband. It doesn't change how I feel about you. For better, for worse doll I'm your man."

"I'm sorry." she told him, pulling away so she could look into his handsome features. "Your so patient with me all of the time."

"You make it worth it." Don reassured her, pressing his a butterfly kiss to her temple before slinging his arm around her shoulders as they began to walk again.

Don had forgotten how fragile Grace was underneath her tough exterior. Most days she was resilient and strong, she wore her intellect like it was armour. It took something like this to shake her up. Grace didn't like uncertainty, it didn't fit well within her world. Security was something she craved. They had come so far recently, it had slipped his mind that sometimes she needed to be reminded that he was a stable entity in her life. Like it or not he was never going to leave.

Sirens cut through the air distracting the two of them momentarily from their thoughts. Their reactions were instinctive as they slipped back into their work personas. Don's eyes were already alert and seeking, focusing on a several people gasping and crowding around a person who seemed to be writhing and groaning on the pavement.

"Someone's down over there." Don stated as the two of them broke into a sprint across the road.

It made Grace feel ill when she realized the person sprawled in agony on the ground was a kid. She was on her knees immediately beside him surveying the situation. His dark hair fanned around his frightened Hispanic features as he made a noise like a injured animal.

Jesus he was young, he looked like he was somewhere between the ages of twelve and fifteen. His eyes were roaming wild and his small hands were clasped his green T-shirt trying to stifle the bleeding coming from the gaping exit wound in his abdomen.

"It's ok." Grace soothed in a calm, kind voice. "The ambulance is almost here. Your going to be alright."

Her hands came to cover his own as they trembled and shook. The blood was thick and warm underneath her palm as she exerted all the pressure she could muster onto the wound causing the kid to cry out in pain.

"I'm sorry honey." Grace said softly, making sure she stayed in view of the child. "I know it hurts."

She knew what it was like to be in this position. There was nothing quite as horrendous as suffering alone as the life drained from your body. She wouldn't let this kid feel like that, the act of being shot was traumatising enough. Grace hoped her presence comforted him even if it was just a little.

"Tape off this whole block, the whole area is a crime scene." Don instructed as the patrol car drew up along side them the ambulance seconds behind.

The uniforms were snapping into action as he barked orders at them. The paramedics were already in motion as he turned his attention to the scene around him, his keen blue eyes already surveying the details.

There were smears of blood on the concrete by his feet. Don tilted his head, his gaze coming to rest upon a younger dark haired boy. There were tears streaming down the child's plump cheeks. His mouth was hanging open in horror as he stared at the kid Grace was helping move onto a stretcher. The white polo neck shirt he was wearing was stained with blood all the way down the left side. The kid's hands were covered in it as he quivered alone on the pavement. Don approached the child slowly, his firm reassuring hand coming to rest on the boy's shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

"Are you hurt buddy?" Don asked, his dark eyebrows crinkling in concern as the kid choked on each breath with a sob.

The lower lip of the boy's mouth trembled as he shook his head woefully. Don crouched down until he was at eye level with the younger child blocking his view of the ambulance and his friend's body. It killed Don to see this kid in such dire straits.

"Can you tell me what happened to your friend?" Don requested, wishing for an instant he had his notebook with him so he could record the details.

"He's my brother." The kid blurted out, bowing his head as his gaze came to rest instead on the streaks of blood smeared across his tiny hands.

That made everything seem just a little bit worse in Don's eyes. He felt sick at the knowledge that plagued him. This boy had seen his brother gunned down in the street and now he was watching him bleed out on the pavement. Don twisted his head to see Grace climbing into the back of the ambulance, their eyes met for a brief second as she held up her cellphone before the paramedic closed the door, blocking him out.

Chapter 47

Summary:

Adam discovers Grace's secret.

Chapter Text

Grace could still feel the blood on her hands as she stared at the interior of her open locker. No matter how much she scrubbed she couldn't seem to wash it from her flesh. The skin from her wrists down was red raw and vibrant from the boiling hot water and repeated use of soap. The white linen blouse she favoured was ruined, it hung open clinging to the black tank top underneath.

Grace couldn't get the images of that kid out of her head, his small body rippling with agony as the paramedics worked on the bullet wound. She had held his hand the entire time, her free fingers lightly smoothing the hair away from his forehead as she spoke to him in attempt to distract him from the stress his body was under. He had looked so young as his eyes roved the ambulance in terror.

"You ok?" Adam asked quietly, distracting her from her thoughts with a light touch of her shoulder.

Grace hadn't even heard him enter the locker room. She jerked her head towards him helplessly as his gaze dropped to the blood splashed up front of her open blouse. She held out her trembling hands, willing them to stop quivering. Adam responded to the action in understanding. His fingers grasped her collar before he gently removed the shirt from her shoulders, guiding it down her arms and off of her body before depositing it in the open evidence bag she'd set on the work bench.

"He's just a kid." she said, shaking her head in remorse. "Who shoots a kid in the back?"

"It doesn't have to make sense." Adam told her, removing the antibacterial gel from his locker an squirting it onto her upturned palms before replacing it again.

Grace rubbed her hands together in an almost mechanical motion. How could anybody want to bring children into this world? There was so much violence all around them, at home, on the streets. How was anybody expected to survive in this insane place, especially something so small and helpless?

"Thanks." Grace muttered, reaching into her locker and removing the blue and white chequered shirt from her locker.

Adam took it from her fumbling fingers before holding it out like a gentleman with a jacket. Grace swallowed hard past the raw emotion in her throat before slipping her arms into the sleeves.

"I draw the line at doing up the buttons." Adam said half serious, holding his hands up as a smile crossed his rugged features.

Grace bent her head as she concentrated on the bottom button and working her way up slowly. Adam watched her with growing concern with each second that passed. She wasn't her usual self. Even in this situation he would have expected some kind of comment or action from her. Instead she was withdrawn and weary. He watched as she reached up onto the top shelf of her locker and tugged at her hairbrush. Something clattered to the floor at once as she struggled with the make up bag it was caught on. Adam swooped down to gather it up for her as she cursed.

"Don't worry I've got it." Adam told her with a reassuring smile before catching a glimpse of the expression upon Grace's face.

Her grey gaze was wide and horrified as she focused on the item in his grasp, her hand clasped over her mouth as she gasped. Adam frowned, his azure eyes lowering as he realized what he had gripped between his fingers.

A pregnancy test.

His eyes shifted to the tiny window. There was a blue cross showing in the centre, he knew what that meant.

Positive.

Wordlessly he reached up and handed it back to her before clambering to his feet. She snatched it from his hand and shoved it back onto the top shelf before slamming the door of her locker shut. Her forehead came to rest upon the cool metal as she closed her eyes and pressed her palms against it.

"I took a test a couple of weeks ago and it was negative." she found herself telling him. "I had one spare and I still haven't had my period yet so I thought why not check just to be on the safe side when I got back from the hospital today."

"Your having a baby?" Adam questioned, hardly believing he was saying the words out loud.

"It could be a false positive." she said softly.

"Or it could be the start of something wonderful." Adam pointed out.

Grace withdrew from the shelter of her locker, flipping over and leaning her back on it instead as she turned to face Adam.

"After today there is no way in hell that I am ready for a baby." Grace said raking her hands through her hair. "I saw what happened to that kid and it makes me wonder how can you bring something into the world knowing that that could happen to them?"

"What would be the point of living if we all thought like that?" Adam questioned her. "You have something amazing going on inside you right now. That baby is a symbol of the love between you and Flack, it's a reminder that there is something in this world is worth fighting for."

Adam took Grace's hands in his, his thumbs smoothed over her knuckles as he looked intently into her conflicted grey eyes.

"I know your scared. People like us..." he paused as a small knowing smile crossed his lips. "We think we're not worthy of happiness because that's what we've had drilled into us. That's simply not true Gracie. You deserve this, both of you deserve to be happy and I think this baby is going to complete your family."

"What if I screw up? I don't know how to be a mother." Grace asked him, her voice breaking as expressed her worse fear. "What if I make this child hate me?"

"That's not going to happen." Adam told her as she squeezed his hands tightly. "It can't ask for more than a mother as smart as you or with a love as unconditional."

"Adam..." Grace choked, her grey eyes glistening with tears as she turned her head away, her dark hair falling over her face.

Adam's hands came to rest on her delicate shoulders as he guided her into the comfort of his body. Her arms locked around his waist as buried her cheek nestled against his collarbone.

"I'll help." he promised. "When you need a break I'll take care of it, buy it toys, teach it how to hack into the CIA..."

Grace stifled a laugh by she held onto the one friend who knew her better than she knew herself. It broke the tension that had inflicted her entire being at the news. There was a sense of excitement raising up inside her, it drowned out the anxiousness that plagued her body. She thought back to the conversation she'd had with Don this morning. He was ready, she had known that he was ready for a long time if she was honest with herself.

"Congratulations." Adam said as he hugged her even closer. "Your gonna be a mom."

"Yea." Grace uttered, wiping a hand underneath her damp eyes as she withdrew with a watery smile spreading across her pretty features. "I'm a mom."

Chapter 48

Summary:

Don learns of Sam's tragic history.

Chapter Text

The men's room in the Precinct was surprisingly tidy considering the time of day. Usually the bin was overflowing with paper towels and the soap had mysteriously vanished but apparently the janitor had been around at some point during Don's shift for which he was grateful. He was on his knees in front of one of the sinks that attached to the green tiled island in the centre of the room. Sam was beside him, both their hands were in the sink under the hot water tap as Don helped the younger boy rinse the blood from his tiny hands.

The distraction was a welcome. With his focus on an actual task Sam appeared to open up a little bit more. Don had taken this opportunity to prod him tentatively with questions in order to gain information about Sam and his brother and the shooting.

"He died of cancer." Sam said quietly, answering Don's question about the location of his father.

Don turned off the tap and shook the water off of his hands, watching distractedly as Sam did the same. There wasn't much he could say to comfort the young boy at the moment, in realistic terms he was doing what all good detectives did and building up an image of the child's circumstances. Yet that didn't stop him from caring.

It tugged at his heart strings that this kid had been through hell and back already. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose his own father at any age, the thought of his old man passing away almost made him break out into a sweat. As he looked at Sam, he understood the younger boys resilience. He was the man of the house now, even if it was only temporary. The young boy seemed to be carrying a lot on his shoulders for a twelve years old kid.

"That's a tough one buddy." Don said picking up a handful of paper towels from the stack on the island. "I'm sorry you had to lose your dad."

Don meant that with the utmost sincerity. Sam was a serious child by the looks of things, Don couldn't help but think maybe that was something to do with the fact he had clearly been forced to grow up too quickly.

"Dry those puppies off real good." Don told Sam as he handed the paper towels to the young boy chancing a glance at the kid's expression.

It was sobering to see a kid like this. Don knew his own expression was grim at the set of circumstances that had presented themselves but Sam's was beyond solemn. It always shocked Don to see a child so devoid of emotion. The poor kid was probably still in shock, he reasoned.

They were in a precarious situation at best. Grace had called from the hospital and the prognosis was that it didn't look good for Nicky. They were in luck that they had managed to rush the kid there in the Golden Hour otherwise he would have bled out on the street. The hospital would call his cellphone directly of there was a change in Nicky's condition. Grace had given them his number in order to relate the information to Sam as quickly as possible before she had left. Don knew she wasn't much use pacing up and down the waiting room, Nicky had been in for a long surgery to repair the damage that had been done to his lower body.

Don averted his gaze back to Sam who was holding out his shirt from the hem, his eyes taking in the blood that had soaked into the material. Don knew from experience there wasn't a chance in hell that they were going to be able to get that stain out even if it didn't need to be collected for evidence. He remembered himself standing in the exact same spot doing the same thing when Grace had been shot.

Every time he had looked at the bloody splotches on his shirt and tie, he had been taken back to those horrendous minutes he'd spent in the diner trying to keep her alive. He had heard her frightened whisper and seen her terrified eyes in his head. He knew that Sam must be reliving something similar in his own mind. Although Don knew he would never forget that day he had learned and moved on from it and he knew that when this was all over that Sam would be able to do the same.

"Let's get that shirt off you." Don offered, raising to his feet thankful he had already pre-empted this situation enough to gather an extra small version of the training outfit that was handed out to rookies.

Sam grasped the sleeve of the T-shirt in attempt to pull it over his head without touching any of the blood that marred it. Don reached out, his fingers grasping the hem and drawing it up over the boy's miniature body.

"Hands up." Don requested.

Sam complied, allowing Don to pull the T-shirt over his arms and head before folding it neatly. It was a force of habit from his days at the academy. He fixed the young boy with kind eyes as he used the side of his hand to fold the shirt over again before depositing it in the brown paper evidence bag.

"Look Sam, it's real important for me about why that man shot your brother." Don said as Sam's gaze slipped downwards.

He understood that the kid was scared. Don couldn't imagine witnessing anything much more horrific at that age as seeing your sibling gunned down right in front of you. The kid needed a friend at the minute and Don was determined to make sure that this child felt as safe and secure as he could make possible.

"He wanted his watch." he said before adding hurriedly. "But you can't tell my mom about it though. Nicky wasn't supposed to take it out of the house."

Don picked up the small NYPD T-shirt, his mind already racing over the details as he started slotting the puzzle pieces of this case into place. Could this be a robbery gone bad? He mused as he crouched down in front of Sam frowning in thought as he made eye contact. There was something the kid wasn't telling him, but he was reluctant to push due to his fragile state. He hoped that Sam may reveal some extra details he more comfortable he became around Don. So Don chose to focus on the facts he did have to hand.

"Your secrets safe with me." Don promised, his eyebrows furrowing as he asked the next question."What about the watch?"

"It was made of real gold. It's called Rolex." Sam said, his forehead creasing as he tried to gauge whether or not the brand was important.

Don narrowed his eyes as he reviewed the young boy cautiously. A Rolex made of real gold was worth a lot on the streets, he was surprised that the two kids has managed to get hold of one. He was more concerned about where the watch had come from even if he did have a lingering suspicion that it had belonged to their father. He needed to actually hear the words leaving Sam's mouth.

"Why did Nicky have it?" Don questioned.

Sam's eyes were on his shoes again as he licked his lips anxiously. It took Don a moment to realize that he did that when he was trying to hold back tears. It was clear this line of questioning was over. He didn't want to make Sam any more upset than he already was.

"My Dad gave it to him before he died." he said his voice breaking just a little as he talked.

The young boy drew in a deep breath sniffing before he rose his eyes to meet Don's. His dark eyes were already glistening with emotion, his cheeks were flushing red as Sam struggled to get control of himself.

"I told him not to bring it to school because I was afraid he might lose it." Sam's lower lip trembled before he pushed on. " It didn't even fit him too well anyway."

Don processed the information unable to take his eyes off the child in front of him as he bowed his head. Thick salty tears were already trailing down Sam's features as his breathing became rapid and uneven.

"Can we call and see if Nicky's awake?" Sam asked him hopefully.

Don felt his stomach drop at the question. The hardest part of his job was delivering bad news or even worse no news and now he had to find the best way to be honest with this child. There was no easy route in what he had to say so he looked deep inside himself selecting the words carefully.

"Sam, I'm not gonna lie to you." Don said softly, tilting his head from side to side as he picked his wording. "It's gonna be a while before your brother wakes up."

His words were gentle and he hoped that they shielded as much of the blow as he possibly could.

"In the meantime I am gonna need you to help me catch the man who did this to Nicky. Think you can do that?" Don requested.

If there was one thing Don was good at it was distraction. Keeping Sam busy while they awaited news of his brother was the aim here, and with the young boy close to hand he could hopefully weed out a few more details on the shooting. Sam's mouth was set in a grim line as he nodded his agreement.

Don held up the small NYPD T-shirt between both hands as he met Sam's gaze with a small friendly smile.

"Make a real cop out of you?"

The small boy's lips twitched in return before he took the shirt from Don's hand and proceeded to put it on.

Chapter 49

Summary:

Grace has a run in with Dale Maplin.

Chapter Text

The coffee shop around the corner from the precinct was a refreshing change from the stifling sensation Grace had been feeling inside the Crime Lab. The open planned space and the glass walls made her feel confined and she had spent the majority of the day trying to keep her facial expression neutral so that her colleagues didn't suspect that something was a miss in her world.

It had been a struggle for her not to pick up the phone and call Don immediately to tell him the good news. Grace knew he was busy working with Sam and he didn't need the distraction right now. Drawing the answers they sought from the young boy was proving to be more difficult than they had anticipated.

Grace didn't want this to end up another one of the conversations they had to have in work because they were too busy to get a second together at home. She wanted this to be something for them both to experience, she wanted to feel Don's hands on her, touching her stomach, getting a feel for their baby. She wanted to see the proud smile on his handsome features as his vibrant blue eyes lit up at the news.

The connection Grace felt to this baby both terrified and excited her. She had been scared that she couldn't love something that technically didn't exist yet but the truth was she loved this baby even more than she could possibly have imagined.

Grace had been horrified at first, overwhelmed at the possibilities that presented themselves but once she had become accustomed to the idea she couldn't help but enjoy it. Adam had been right this morning when he had talked her through the initial panic. This baby wouldn't want for love.

The two of them were going to be parents. The thought was more thrilling now than it had been before and Grace was already planning for the future, building up ideas and plotting their next move. Grace didn't need to ask herself how this had happened. Two months ago back in Barcelona she had forgotten to pack her contraceptive pill. They had bought condoms at the airport but they had been far from careful in regards to their love making.

Maybe deep down inside she had wanted this to happen. Now was as gooder time as any to settle down and start a family. They were young and established. She was comfortable in her role as a First Grade Detective and Crime Scene Investigator and Don could only climb higher in regards to the NYPD. Mac was knowing and understanding in regards to situations like this, or rather Grace imagined he would be. Grace and Don both had money saved in rainy day accounts so finances at the current moment weren't a problem, there was a lot to prepare for and she looked forward to it.

Grace smiled at Jaime the coffee barista as she stepped up to the counter, the red haired girl already putting in a blueberry muffin in a white take out bag. Grace came here at least once a day to feed her coffee habit, more if she was on a long shift.

"Usual drink order Detective Sullivan?" Jaime asked her, beaming with that sweet sunshine smile.

"Tea instead." Grace requested, with a shake of her head.

Grace had googled her caffeine intake while she in the elevator on her way down here and discovered she was at least two cups over her daily intake allowance which was one a day. The amount of coffee she consumed on a daily basis according to a Danish Study could increase her chances of miscarriage by fifty nine percent if she made it up to eight cups. Admittedly Grace was on four at least. She was cutting down to one a day after learning this new information. She wanted this baby so badly now that it was here.

"I've double cupped it for you." Jaime said helpfully, raising her eyebrows. "By the way that guy over there asked me to give you this the next time you came in."

Jaime pointed her finger towards a table behind Grace. Grace glanced over her shoulder, following the direction the barrista was indicating towards as Jaime slipped a folded napkin into Grace's hand with a phone number written on it.

The guy sitting at the circular table by the entrance door rose his cup of coffee as if in greeting. He was good looking in a craggy way. He was built like a quarterback, his shoulders were huge and muscular. She estimated he was around six foot, four from the length of his torso as he straightened his spine in anticipation.

It was clear from the muscle definition underneath his worn navy blue T-shirt that he worked out. His black curly hair was a little unruly on the top of his head but it suited his attractive features. The stubble on his features was well groomed, his grin was wide and welcoming but in his hazel eyes Grace saw something predatory.

It was instinctive. Grace couldn't explain it any other way. Every single impulse in her body was screaming for her not to engage this man. There was something animalisatic in the way his eyes drank in her body. The lust in his gaze was mingled with something else, something that she couldn't comprehend and terrified her only on a level she could describe as primal.

The fear was irrational but it was potent. The fight or flight response existed in every single human being for a reason. Her heart began to beat a little faster in her chest as Grace gathered up the coffee cup, and the take out bag letting herself exhale a breath she didn't realize she had been holding.

The key to situations like this was to show no fear and she was never one to back down in the face of a challenge. Her mind flitted to the tiny life form developing inside her womb. Maybe it was time to start, she considered as she took strong steady strides through the coffee shop. Her hand slapped down onto the surface of the table, leaving the napkin with the guy's phone number crumpled underneath her palm.

"I'm married." Grace told him, tilting her head to meet his soulless eyes.

His large hand came to rest on her own. Grace felt her body tense under his touch. There was a lot of power underneath this man's fingertips and suddenly she was very aware of it. She saw nothing in his eyes, they were devoid of emotion. The emptiness frightened her as his lips curled into a perverse snarling smile.

"This is all just sport for me, baby girl." he murmured.

His voice was deep and rich, it sounded like a caress across her skin and Grace resented it. She could tell there was something sick inside this guy. Grace had seen it before in psychopaths but she had never been on the front line. Being face to face with one was eerie. There was a possibility that she was being paranoid but somehow Grace didn't think so. Even now Grace was regretting the fact she'd left her Glock locked upstairs in her desk drawer.

"I don't play games." she snapped coldly, tearing her hand away the stranger's grasp before exiting the coffee shop.

"Your already in one." Dale Maplin told her retreating back, watching as Detective Sullivan crossed over towards the other side of the street.

Chapter 50

Summary:

Grace tells Don her secret.

Chapter Text

Don was sitting on the couch, flicking through the channels on the TV when Grace got home from the doctor's appointment she'd managed to schedule. Doctor McCormick had confirmed everything Grace had suspected. She was two months pregnant with Don's child, it was happy and healthy as far as the doctor could tell. Grace had been more than a little relieved to hear that news, it had settled her mind thankfully. It made the next few steps easier.

Don tilted his head towards her taking in Grace's small smile as she stepped through the door.

"You look happy." he commented drily.

Grace understood the meaning behind those words. He meant considering their day off had been ruined and they had been working the case of a child gunned down in the street. There still hadn't been a happy ending yet. Sam and his mother were spending the night at the hospital with Nicky. Despite the fact the fourteen year old boy had pulled through the surgery, he still hadn't awoken. Grace prayed it was just a matter of time.

Grace stepped towards the sofa, dropping her handbag on the floor followed by her jacket. She was wearing that fitted long black blouse he liked. It hugged her feminine curves but fell past her hips hiding her badge and weapon when they were out in the street. It looked even better when she wasn't wearing any jeans. Those pale toned thighs looked glorious clad in absolutely nothing at all.

Don couldn't help but smile as at the grin on his wife's features. He was happy to see her, ecstatic even. She always had made a way of making him feel better no matter what had happened during the day. Don leaned back on the couch, watching her through hooded lids as he felt himself beginning to stir in his jeans. It still astounded Don that she had that power over him, one smouldering look and he was already rock hard, craving her touch.

Grace slid into his lap, her knees were on either side of his hips as their pelvis nudged together. Don tipped his head back moaning as Grace arched her hips slightly causing a delicious amount of friction between their jeans. His hands were in her hair, fingers combing through the silky strands as her lips descended on the curve of his throat, licking and sucking that one spot on the curve of his neck that drove him absolutely insane. Grace rotated her hips as Don thrust upwards into her clothed form as heat and need flushed through every single one of his nerve endings.

"Remember that conversation from this morning?" she asked him practically breathless.

Don gripped her dark hair tightly in his fist guiding her head back to expose her pale throat. His teeth grazed the hollow of her tender skin as he spoke against it, his warm breath caressing the underside of her jaw lovingly.

"You want to make a baby?" Don murmured as his tongue teased the spot underneath her earlobe making Grace cry out in anticipation at the sensation.

"We already did." Grace told him, her voice husky as his hands undid the first button of her blouse and then the second to reveal her cleavage.

Don drew back in order to study her face intently as Grace laced her fingers at the back of his neck unwilling to break the connection between them.

"I did another test when I got back from the hospital. I had one left over from a few weeks ago. The doctor confirmed I'm two months pregnant." Grace said softly, struggling to gauge his reaction.

A grin highlighted Don's handsome features as he pressed his forehead against Grace's looking straight into that beautiful grey gaze. His firm hands cupped her delicate cheekbones as his nose trailed down along the length of her own.

"Barcelona." he whispered in understanding, pressing a soft kiss to her lips in jubilation.

Don's hands wrapped around his wife's body drawing her even closer in order to staunch the tiny gap between them.

"You feeling good about this?" he asked her outright, his lips kissing the corner of her mouth as his large hands slid down to knead her ass crushing her against his firm muscular body.

"Your making me feel real good right now Don." Grace murmured, her dark hair falling down over her shoulders as his hot mouth nuzzled the space between her cleavage causing her whole body to tighten in response to his ministrations.

"I meant about the baby." he muttered, his palms massaging her breasts through her shirt and bra. His vibrant blue eyes met hers as he teased her nipple with his tongue through her clothing.

Jesus, she loved it when he watched her like this. Grace moaned in encouragement as her fingertips threaded through Don's short hair as the corner of her mouth turned up into a small smile.

"I'm ready." she cried out loud. "I'm ready to have your baby."

"Just the one?" he teased making light work of her shirt, tugging it from her shoulders, the bra following closely behind.

"Your not funny." Grace pouted.

Don's thumbs toyed with her erect nipples as she ground against his stiffness desperate to get closer. They were both wearing far too many clothes for her liking. She wanted her husband more than anything right now. She wanted to consummate this memory, they needed to remember the day discovered she was pregnant for that fact, not because it had been the day a kid had gotten gunned down in the street.

"You've just made me the happiest man alive." Don told her, brushing the strands of dark hair away from her pretty features as she stared down at him.

"How about you return the favour?" Grace said, her fingertips grasping the hem of his white t shirt and tugging it up over his broad chest before throwing it on the floor behind her.

"I have a better idea." Don informed her, his strong arms wrapped around her waist as he rose to his feet.

Grace's legs locked around his hips as she clutched onto his shoulders scouting out possible locations for their coupling.

"Table or counter?" Don suggested, rubbing his cock against her molten core impatiently.

"Fuck me on the table." she whispered into the crook of his neck.

"Or over the table." Don mused, setting Grace down gently.

"My face not good enough for you?" Grace teased, turning around and placing her palms on the table as she stretched out along the length of the table.

"You know I love watching your ass as I fuck you." Don told her, his voice rough with arousal as his hands slid around her front undoing the button of her denim jeans.

"Are you gonna frisk me detective?" Grace asked in a suggestive smoky tone.

"Oh Gracie, your gonna wish you hadn't given me that idea." Don taunted sliding the metal hand cuffs off of her waist band before he took her wrist almost roughly and snapped the bracelet around it.

Grace complied willingly giving him her other wrist until both were trapped in front of the tattoo on the small of her back.

"Ever think maybe that's why I brought it up?" Grace pointed out as Don placed his hand on the back of her neck lightly as he bent her over the table.

"Your a naughty girl." Don told her, drawing back his hand and spanking Grace right on the ass.

Her cry of pleasure was music to his ears as he did it again. She struggled against her restraints as she presented her ass to him almost begging as she spoke.

"I've been a bad girl Detective and I will do anything not to end up in jail."

Hearing Grace say those words made his whole entire body tingle with agonizing desire. She knew what she did to him when she handed over complete control. His cock was throbbing with need, straining against his boxer shorts and jeans. She would do anything for him right now and that turned him on so much it was hard not to fuck the hell out of her.

"Then you can prove it." he told her sternly, yanking her trousers down to her ankles leaving her clad only in a pair of black lacy panties that hugged her firm ass like a second skin.

"Did you wear these for me?" he asked her hoarsely, his fingertips teasing along the elastic line before he pulled the lace taunt over her pale skin.

"I know you like it when I wear black." she moaned, arching against his hand as it slid into the cleft between her legs.

Grace's delicate panties were soaked through already from their game. God, she was so hot for him, he could make her do anything he wanted and she would comply. He relished the power she gave him but he would never abuse it.

"I forgot how much you enjoy it when I play bad cop." he told her, his voice ragged with intent as he drew her panties aside, his fingertips grazing her soaking wet core causing Grace to writhe helplessly before him.

Grace's faith in him amazed Don. She was handing over every stake she held in their relationship when she allowed him to put her in this position. She trusted him to make this experience about the both of them, not for him to take what he wanted from her bound body. He would stop if it become too overbearing or if he felt that she was even the slightest bit uncomfortable but it was never too much.

Grace gave as good as she got when she decided to dominate him. Don unzipped his jeans unable to wait any longer, he dragged the panties down her exquisite thighs before his unwavering hands came to rest on her hips as Don rubbed the leaking tip of his cock against her molten hot core.

"You want me?" he growled, his entire body screaming for release as he pressed the head of his pulsating member against Grace's slick entrance causing her to plead in longing.

"Always." she whimpered.

The noise she made when he entered her tightness nearly pushed him over the edge. Jesus, the moment Don penetrated her supple form he couldn't think. He could only feel as he buried his dick inside her right up into the hilt. He was lost in the sensation of their union. Knowing that his baby was living and growing inside her only sweetened the deal.

The two of them had created something stunning, something beautiful and amazing. Don had never dreamed of being this happy. For the first time in his life he felt completely whole, like everything had fallen right into place. Grace was panting underneath him, she was recanting his name as his mouth enclosed on her left shoulder, kissing each of those circular scars. She was begging him to move harder, faster, thrusting back against him as he pounded into her yearning flesh.

"I love you." he whispered fiercely into her ear as all of her muscles began to clench, gripping his cock like velvet glove. "Jesus, Grace I am so in love with you it scares me sometimes."

Don's words tipped Grace over the edge. Her orgasm was all consuming as it claimed her entire body. Grace cried out in ecstasy as Don held her steady, his fingers digging into her hips. He climaxed riding out Grace's orgasm with her as he listened to the sensual noises that escaped his wife's lips.

His fingers groped for the cuff keys he'd set on the table. It took him a second to undo the metal bracelets, releasing Grace from her bonds. She straightened up almost immediately, her knees were still weak from the powerful orgasm that had ripped through every fibre of her being. It surprised her how God damn good Don could make her feel every single time they made love.

Grace bowed her head forward trying to catch her breath, her silky chocolate brown hair falling over her pretty pale face. Don's drew the blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around his shoulders, his hands gripping the corners. He wrapped his arms around Grace's naked body enfolding her in the confines of the blanket and drawing her warm inviting form to rest against his chest.

Grace leaned back, her head coming to rest in the crook of Don's neck as her slender fingers clasped the blanket replacing his grasp. Don's hands felt unbelievable as they glided over her body before his gentle palms rubbed circles on her firm, flat stomach.

"Your gonna be a great mom." he said softly, his mouth kissing the back of her head.

Grace's fingers interlaced with Don's as together they covered the outline of the place where they're baby was currently residing.

"Your gonna be the best daddy this baby could ever hope for." Grace complimented, wrapping the blanket back around the two of them again.

"We're ready for this." Don reassured her, his hands stroking along her stomach.

He wondered what their baby was doing right now. Was it sleeping? Would it look more like him or Grace? When he imagined their children they always had his wife's stunning grey gaze and his dark hair. They had Grace's wicked smile and her brutal honesty. They were athletic and head strong, a perfect mixture between the two of them.

"You think he knows we're talking about him?" Don asked her thoughtfully.

"He?" Grace questioned with a rueful smile. "This could be a girl for all we know."

Don turned Grace around to face him. She let the blanket flutter to the ground around them so they were standing naked before each other. Don dropped to his knees in front of his wife, he pressed his mouth against her stomach, Grace let out a high pitched squeal as his lips tickled her abdomen.

"Mommy says your a girl is that true?" Don murmured against her taunt skin before pressing his ear to her stomach as if listening. "Uh huh, right I'll tell her."

Don rose back up to his feet bringing the blanket back up with him before he looped it around his wife's cooling skin. It was his turn to take care of her now. The next few months would change her body and soul, he was determined to make the transition as comfortable as possible for his wife and their little bundle of joy.

"Nah, he says he's another Don Flack Jnr." Don told her, enfolding her up in the blanket once more before the two of them settled on the couch.

"We are not calling our baby that even if it is a boy. I love you and your father but we're not having a Junior, Junior in the family." Grace shook her head in defiance as Don gathered her up in his arms and held her tight against him.

"I'm thinking something Irish, Celtic maybe." Don told her as he debated the idea of them redressing before deciding he liked the fact they were naked under this blanket.

"Your thinking saints and angels since we're Catholic?" Grace asked him, her fingertips tracing the pattern of his scar absent mindedly.

"Bernadette is not an option." he dismissed immediately.

"I'm thinking Katelyn if it's a girl, Patrick or Nicholas if it's a boy." Grace offered up the possibilities she'd been considering inside the car.

"You've just named our child after your two favourite holidays, St Paddy's Day and Christmas." Don sniggered, his chest vibrating as he laughed out loud.

"We can hold out on the names for now." Grace remarked, rolling her eyes at his suggestion.

"Patrick Nicholas if it's a boy." Don murmured in her ear, burying his face in her hair. "Jennifer Katelyn Flack for a girl."

"Jennifer was my Nana's name." Grace said softly, tilting her head up to meet Don's vibrant blue gaze.

He knew how much that meant to her. Grace had loved her Nana more than anything in the world. She had been the one she ran to whenever her mother and her fought, she had been his wife's soothsayer before her death.

"Gotta keep something in the family, doll." Don told her as Grace curled up against his chest.

Don shifted to accommodate her guiding her knees over his lap before he tucked the blanket around her to make sure she was warm. Grace's palm came to rest over his heart, she could feel every individual beat underneath her fingertips.

"I love you." Grace told him sincerely as Don's hand trailed across her stomach, rubbing the spot where he thought the baby was sleeping. "I love you so god damn much."

Chapter 51

Summary:

Don's nightmare begins.

Chapter Text

Even as his hands gripped the steering wheel of his SUV Detective Don Flack was still in a state of shock. Their case had taken a bizarre turn in his opinion. After his fight with Stella and Hawkes, he had been so sure that Sam and Nicky were simply victims of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. They were good kids, there wasn't a chance in hell the two of them could have robbed a bank but during the interrogation the whole sordid story had come out and it left Don feeling even more heartbroken for the small family.

The more surprising part was that the two kids had been quite successful in the endeavour. The problem had occurred when convicted career criminal Troy Castro had spotted the two boys robbing the bank that he had spent his week casing. He'd gone after them and taken the money by force resulting in Nicky being shot in abdomen. This story, Don was thankful, had a happy ending.

Troy Castro was dead courtesy of the New York City Bus Service, due to the fact he had run underneath one whilst Don himself had been giving chase. Nicky had woken up from surgery to everyone's relief. The boys were lucky enough that the bank manager and the DA had taken pity on them and decided not to press charges. Money had been pouring in from the public once this story had hit the papers. It would keep a roof over their heads at least for a little while and Don was content with that.

The case had worked him raw over the past few days. He was on his way to pick Grace up now from the Crime Lab as he usually did when they were on similar shifts. Don would be more than happy to sink into bed with his pregnant wife and sleep away the next two days.

At least the pregnancy explained some of Grace's fatigue over the past few weeks, or so the baby books he had purchased back at the hospital book shop had explained. He had been urging his wife to get herself tested for anaemia before they'd found out about the baby.

The baby, the words sent a flutter of excitement pulsing though his body. He was a father, this baby was already very real for him despite the fact they had yet to experience anything about the child. Grace and him had created something so wonderful and perfect, he almost couldn't believe that he was so worthy of this contentment. He had been walking around unable to stop himself from grinning for the past seventy two hours.

They had decided to tell Mac about the pregnancy tonight in order to limit Grace and their child's exposure to anything potentially harmful. He looked forward to holding her hand in Mac's office and telling the other man their news. He couldn't wait to see the expression on Mac's features despite Grace's misgivings about it being bad luck to tell people before the second trimester.

Don pulled up to a traffic light as it turned red. His thumbs were tapping out the tune to a song on the radio on the steering wheel as he waited. It was quiet for this time in the evening, then again these back streets were always less busy than the main roads hence the reason he took them to avoid traffic. He detested getting stuck in lane upon lane of traffic and he wanted to get Grace home as soon as possible.

A van pulled up along side the SUV, Don barely gave it a second glance as he checked his phone sitting in the compartment near the gear stick. Nothing, Don found that almost blissful. He had no responsibilities tonight, he could concentrate on the baby books he had bought residing in the back seat.

Don caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He twisted his head feeling the rush of cool air as his car door was yanked open. His body was already in motion, his right hand was already reaching for his holster, his palm barely had time to touch the grip before he was slammed with what felt like a lightning bolt exploding in his veins. Every single muscle in his body contracted as he went entirely rigid in his car seat. He could feel himself jerking and twitching as fifty five thousand volts coursed underneath his flesh.

The pain was debilitating, it was like being stabbed all over his body with tiny sharp needles. Don had been tasered before as a training requirement in the police academy for a full thirty seconds and it had hurt like a bitch for hours after. This sensation was worse, the Taser had been jacked up to full and the cramping had set his nerve endings ablaze as he struggled for control.

Even when the pain stopped there was jack shit he could do. The Taser had done it's job and completely immobilised him. There was a fury already starting to whip up inside him as he strained against his antagonized muscles willing them with every fibre of his being to move.

A black hood was put over his head, blocking out all sources of light as it stifled his face. His breathing was harsh and ragged as the material smothered his airways. Someone was leaning across his body, Don heard the click of the seat belt release before he was yanked out of the driver's seat. He tried to brace himself for the fall but his body refused to respond despite his desperate urging.

The sound of his head hitting the pavement echoed in his ears, it felt like his whole skull had cracked open at the impact as something warm ran down his features causing the hood to stick even tighter to his face. The entire weight of his body was pressing into the gritty road. Don could live with a few grazes, he would sure as hell try and get through this. His arms were yanked behind his back as a plastic zip-tie was looped around his wrists before it locked into place securing him tightly. Even when the feeling did return back to his body, his abductor hadn't even given him the slightest bit of leeway to work with, which led him to believe that it was someone with experience.

Don's cop mind was working a mile a minute, processing all of the details around him. Everything from the roar of the van's engine still humming in the background to the feel of his abductor's hands as he was wrenched to his unsteady feet. The abductor was muscular, his arms were strong as he managed to drag Don's dead weight to what Don thought must be the back of the van with low grunts. He assumed from the body strength and the gruffness of the tone that his abductor was male. There was a fiddling around his belt and he felt the familiar weight of his holster removed from his form.

It was a few minutes after the van started to move that his muscles began to tingle. He was lying on his stomach, cheek pressed to the cool metal through the material of the hood when his flesh began to vibrate in the aftermath from the charge that had hit him. He did the first thing everyone did when they resumed feeling after they'd been Tasered. He screamed the word "Fuck."

The van stopped almost immediately. Don's body moved on it's own accord, his back smashing into the closed doors at the back of the van. He could hear the footsteps slow and calculated as he struggled to get the rest of his body to function against the pain gnawing at his nerve endings. It wasn't happening, his muscles hadn't had enough time to recover. He was drained and weak from the sting of the Taser. He felt the cool breeze hit his body as the doors were pulled open. It was colder where they were now. He could hear the rush of water as the waves crashed near by and he felt his heart stop dead in his chest.

The fear he had been holding at bay gripped him now as he was grabbed by the back of his collar and forced down onto his knees. Stones dug into his flesh through his jeans, scrapping into the skin underneath. He knew what was about to happen as he knelt there in the clarifying silence. Don had attended enough crime scenes in the course of his career to know that he was about to be executed and part of him was just that little bit thankful at the knowledge that his death would be quick. There were worse ways to go than a bullet in the back of the head.

Don closed his eyes shutting down his rational side as he did so. It was that side that kept him thinking, that kept him safe but it was far from comforting. He wanted his final moments to be more than his awareness at his situation.

The sound of the hammer of a gun being drawn back echoed in his ears and Don knew that this was the end. He would die alone, in the dark near the sea without any possibility of identifying his killer. He thought of Grace, the way her smile lit up the world for him when she walked into a room. He thought of the moments they spent in bed touching, stroking, whispering sweet endearments to each other in the middle of the night and how he'd miss that. He had told her he loved her this morning as she left for work before pressing a kiss to her lips and then to her flat stomach.

Don thought of their unborn child, Patrick or Jennifer residing deep inside her. Their baby would become Grace's entire life, she would live and breath for that child and he was reassured by that thought. Grace would make sure that their bundle of joy was loved and taken care of. She would go out of her way to make sure their child knew who he was. It hurt so badly it made his eyes sting at the knowledge that he would never get to meet their baby, that Grace would have to raise it all on her own.

All these thoughts flashed through his head in a manner of seconds. It was frightening how quickly it all came down to this. There were no regrets, no death bed confessions to be heard only a simple wish that he hoped that God was listening as he prepared himself to die.

Please God keep them safe. He prayed as the barrel of the gun came to rest upon his forehead through the hood, nestling in the spot right between his eyes.

And in less than a minute it was all over.

Chapter 52

Summary:

Grace loses control.

Chapter Text

Grace had fought for this right to attend this crime scene. She had begged, bullied and finally threatened Mac until he relented. Yet now looking at it Grace wished she had never come here. She wasn't responding like a cop did, she could feel the control slipping from her hands as she wrapped her arms around her body feeling her throat constricting. She was cold, she hadn't felt this way for such a long time.

Four years, she thought. She remembered the sickness that twisted up in her stomach at the knowledge that Don had been trapped amongst the rubble of a torn down building. The feeling of helplessness that dogged her steps in those days was back again lurking just over her shoulder. It was the not knowing that killed her. Was he dead or alive? Was he hurt?

Please be ok. She prayed, pressing her hands together as she rolled her eyes upwards to the sky.

Grace believed in God, she believed in things happening for a reason but Grace couldn't understand why this had happened to them. The two of them had been through enough already, they were meant to be happy and now it was starting to come apart. She didn't know what she would do without Don.

Her fingers toyed with the silver St Michael sovereign around her neck. If there was ever a time for St Michael to come through it was now. Protect him please.

She felt Mac's gaze upon her as she leaned back against the Crime Scene SUV rubbing a hand over her exhausted features. She couldn't allow herself to fall apart, she couldn't afford to in the face of this adversity. She had told Mac that she was ready to be here. She had fought for this.

"Jesus Mac, he's my husband! You can't just expect me to stand here and wait for you to come back with news. I need to be there." Grace snapped, her hands on her hips as she stood in front of her boss, fire in her eyes.

"You need to be here in case someone calls." Mac told her calmly.

"If this was a kidnapping they would have called by now." Grace recounted, raking her hands through her dark hair. "People abduct cops for two reasons, to get revenge or to get information, now I need to know which one that is so I can figure out how to get Don back."

"We'll get Don back, right now I need you to stay here. I can't have you processing that crime scene." Mac informed her, his arms crossing over his chest as he fixed her with a stern expression.

"Don't do this Mac." Grace warned, shaking her head. "Don't block me out because you know I will tear this city apart looking for him with or without your help and I don't give a damn if I have to do it illegally. I am giving you the option here, keep me close to hand or risk me taking my gun out on those streets and shaking down any god damn contact I can find. What would Don want you to do?"

Her chest was heaving as she stood before him, her fists clenched and her eyes deadly serious. She wasn't in the habit of threatening people, especially not someone with as much power as Mac but it was driving her crazy pacing up the glass halls of this crime lab. She needed to be active, she needed to see the scene and make her own assumptions.

This could just be something ridiculous, he could have just ran out of gas and left the Escapade unattended. Maybe some uniform had blown this all out of proportion and Don would come back laughing at all the fuss that had been caused because he'd left the car unattended.

Even as she thought it, Grace knew there wasn't a chance in hell that was a realistic possibility. Don didn't leave his cellphone unattended. He wouldn't be ignoring her calls. He always made sure there was enough gas because he hated the idea of her being stranded somewhere because she usually forgot to fill up the tank.

"I won't touch anything." she promised, bowing her head as she wrung her hands anxiously. "I just need feel like I'm doing something. If I see the scene maybe I can help."

"Stick to Danny like glue, I want you in my sight at all times. Do you hear me?" Mac relented, jabbing his finger at her.

Grace nodded frantically as she held up her hands in surrender before speaking.

"Loud and clear."

Watching their private property get searched was horrifying. Grace had been through this once before when Will had attacked her and it was beyond intrusive to have your friends routing through the aspects of your personal life. Grace dreaded the moment they shined the ASL in the back seat of the car and found the evidence of yesterday's coupling. It was humiliating but Grace knew it was a necessary evil. She would let them see whatever they wanted if it brought Don back to her safe and sound.

Sheldon and Stella had arrived seconds after they had. Grace was thankful that the whole entire team was being brought in on this. She knew they all cared about Don in their own way and she was grateful for the show of support. Grace watched as Stella set down the yellow numerical marker beside something on the ground. Grace used the back of her hand to rub across her lips as she realized what it was.

A police issue Taser.

Grace swallowed hard against the lump in her throat as Stella placed a second marker beside the Taser. It drew Grace's attention to a small, dark pool of liquid seeping into the gritty concrete. She knew what it was without having to take a step any closer.

Blood, she thought, suddenly feeling light headed . Don's blood.

She heard Sheldon's cry go up through the air from inside of the car as he held up something glittering and gold. Grace felt her stomach lurch as her fingers came to cover her lips.

Don's badge.

He never left home without it, it was always on a chain around his neck or clipped to his hip. Sometimes he even put it in his wallet but it was always on him. He would never be careless enough to leave it behind.

Grace's knees buckled, one moment she was in control and the next Danny's solid arms had looped through her own and were holding her in place against his consoling form. She inhaled his sharp clean scent as he tucked her head underneath his chin.

"I got you." he whispered, his mouth next to her ear as he held her steady. "It's ok Grace, let it out."

Jesus, she couldn't do this right now, she couldn't fall apart. She imaged the baby residing deep inside her womb and how scared that it must feel right now. She knew it must sense her fear and discomfort. Grace couldn't face the idea of losing Don or this baby. God, she had to get a grip, she couldn't be like this. She needed to be strong for this baby.

She wasn't the only one that was terrified, she could feel the tension vibrating through Danny's entire body as he shielded her from the crime scene. There was a lot burdening his shoulders too. Don was his best friend and Danny was taking on the role of carer in this situation. He was the one propping her up and if she was honest she just needed a second to let go.

"Tell me he's ok Danny." she whispered, grasping onto his shirt as she buried her face into his chest. "Just tell me we're going to find him and he's going to be ok."

"Gracie." Danny murmured against her hairline.

He wanted to lie to her, he wanted to tell her that everything would be ok. They'd find Flack, he would laugh and joke about how a stun gun wouldn't keep him down. Yet Danny knew that wasn't true. Situations like this they never ended well. If this was anyone else the roles would have been reversed and he would be the one needing comfort but this was Grace and Don was her husband. How many times had the other man had his back over the years? It was time for Danny to have his.

"Let me take you home." Danny requested softly. "You shouldn't be here."

"I need some time to pull myself together." she said, her grey eyes stinging like hell as she struggled to compose herself.

"Give me a minute to talk to Mac?" Danny asked her, his hands smoothing over her shoulder blades as he drew back to look into her fatigued features.

Grace wrapped her arms around her stomach, her hands rubbing over her belly lightly in a bid to sooth the baby that she thought was probably feeling restless right about now. She nodded in agreement to Danny's statement before speaking.

"I'll wait here."

Chapter 53

Summary:

Don faces his nightmare.

Chapter Text

Waking up had never been such a bizarre and painful experience before for Don. The side of his face hurt like a bitch. The explosive ache from his left temple down along his cheek bone was the first thing his clouded mind registered. It felt like he had been pistol whipped.

The next was the abnormal darkness. Don couldn't see a damn thing even with his eyes open, for a moment he thought the power must have gone out in their street until he realized he could hear the roar of waves nearby. He didn't understand the noise, it was out of context in his mind. His neck was stiff, his chin resting on his chest.

There was something covering his face. He could feel material scratching against his skin, taste it in his mouth pressing against his nose as he inhaled. There was a familiar stench in the air, it was on his tongue and at the back of his throat filling him with a sense of dread. Blood, the kind that was old and had seeped into the walls of the room around him. The tang of copper was still there present in the stale air.

The joints in Don's shoulders were killing him. He wrenched his wrists only to find that they were secured tightly behind his back. The thin plastic band dug into the skin of his wrists rubbing the flesh raw. Don jerked forward in his metal chair, testing his restraints as he twisted and writhed against the bonds with no give. He wasn't used to feeling helpless, panic was not a feeling he was accustomed to but he knew when his heart rate began to accelerate and his breathing became rapid that he was losing control.

Shit, it was all coming back to him now. Sitting in his SUV at the lights, the Taser, the back of the van and finally his would be execution. Don had been so sure he was going to die. He had been prepared and ready and now he understood what this was really about. He hadn't given his abductor what he wanted. He hadn't begged or bargained for his life he had been dignified and silent which led his rational side to believe that death wasn't one of his options at this point.

The fact he was still alive meant that his abductor wanted something from him and Don already knew that it was something he would never allow himself to give. Everything was about to take a turn for the more sinister.

The hood was torn from his head, leaving him completely blinded by the sudden bright light. His eyes were stinging so badly they were almost watering. He blinked quickly trying to clear the black spots that were dancing in his vision.

"You know I always feel that you can learn the measure of a man by how he takes his pain." Maplin told him, his booming voice piercing Don's ears like a freight train.

The other man was standing in front of him, his grizzled features studying Don intently as he gripped the hood tightly in his fist. He had cleaned up since Don has last saw him, his appearance was more neater and defined. All the better to lure fresh victims, he thought as Maplin's empty soulless eyes bored into him.

Don's gaze was already straying taking in the details of his surroundings and cataloguing them for further use. High ceiling with steel rafters, large vacuous empty space lined with concrete pillars clearly an empty warehouse down by the dockland somewhere from the sound of water. From the scent of death in the air, he thought an abandoned abattoir maybe. Maplin was the kind of sick fuck that would get a raise out of that.

His chair was made of unrelenting metal and bolted to the floor. Although that was clearly a DIY job, a decent one he was forced to admit. There was a sturdy metal work bench set up along the wall in front of him, that had obviously come with the place, along with the nasty looking guillotine attached to the end.

Definitely an abattoir.

Maplin's lower back was leaning against workbench as he allowed Don to study the surrounding area. As concerning as Don found that, he had come to terms with the reality of his situation as soon as Maplin had revealed himself. Adjustment was one of his strong suits along with rationality. His control was back and with venom, this had become about survival. Maplin was a sadist and Don was fully aware of the implications that stretched before him. The details from Laura's case were already running like a list in his head.

He'd used the curling iron on her first and then the blades. They had never found Maplin's tool kit, Don assumed that's what the faded red tool box was sitting next to the guillotine. He had accepted his fate and he knew the only way to get out of this was to bide his time and look for an opening. Don had been on the receiving end of beatings before and he had took every single one with barely an utterance. Violence was a necessity sometimes in their job, he could give as good as he got most days.

Today was not one of those days, today he was going to be forced to sit here and let this psychopathic bastard cut and burn patches in his skin in order to break him down into the same hysterical mess that he had left Laura. Don refused to let that happen, he couldn't give Maplin the satisfaction, the moment his control snapped it was over. The other man would slaughter him like one of the animals that had belonged here once upon a time.

"I fantasied about this in prison, about having you in my chair powerless. I always wondered what it would take to strip away your control, what your screams sound like."

Don didn't even see the blow coming, it was lightning fast, catching him across the jaw turning his head with the impact. The sound of flesh on flesh contact filtered through the drafty space round him as pain erupted along the line of his jaw, teeth clacking together at the force.

Don slowly rotated his head back towards Maplin, his tongue sweeping along the edge of his teeth to ensure that none had been loosened. Despite his formidable size Maplin didn't know jack shit about where to hit someone to inflict maximum pain. Then again the other man's speciality lay in knives.

"I wanted a blow torch you know?" Maplin said almost conversationally as he turned his back on Don. "But my contact couldn't get me one."

Don was glad that Maplin couldn't see his shoulders sag in relief at that statement. He didn't want to think of the damage this man could inflict upon his body. He kept his face blank as Maplin glanced at him over his shoulder.

"You already know what this is don't you?" Maplin asked, his eyes glittering with delight as used his fingers to flick open the catches of the worn toolbox.

The question was clearly rhetorical as Maplin proceeded to smooth his hands lovingly over the metal scuffs before he opened it. Don watched with apprehension as Maplin removed a set of pliers and set them down with a clank on the metal table. His mouth went dry at the sight of the curling iron, he remembered the red welts patterned all over Laura's back. The time each individual burn scar had taken had seemed like hours she had told him and when it had become too much and she had felt herself starting to slip into numbness, he had started on the rest of her body with the knife.

Maplin held up a small, slender knife before turning to face Don, a manic glint in his eyes. Don felt his heart palpitate at the motion as his eyes became fixated on that glistening sheet of metal.

"I used this one on Laura." he told Don, his voice husky as his forefinger ran up the length of the blade. "She made the most delicious noises and when she cried..."

Maplin visibly shuddered.

"I jerk off thinking about the moment I stuck this blade in her mouth."

His fingers were raking through Don's hair gripping it tightly in his fist as he yanked the other man's head back exposing his face and throat. Don couldn't breathe, he didn't even dare to move as the blade scrapped lightly across his lower lip and into the dip of his mouth. He clamped his lips shut, grinding his teeth together.

"I'm curious, will your wife still love your smile if I make it a little bit wider?" Maplin chuckled, tugging the knife tenderly across the inside corner of Don's mouth nicking the soft flesh.

Don's shoulders went rigid as he bucked the pain, the blade sinking deeper dragging his lips into the shape of a snarl. The point grazed across his gum. He could feel the knife already slicing into the confines of his mouth. Jesus, he hadn't expected it to start like this. If Maplin exerted any more pressure he was going to slit his face right open.

He was panting when Maplin teasingly removed the knife from his mouth. His heart was pounding in his chest as Don's tongue ran over the tiny cut area making sure the rest of his mouth was still intact from the onslaught. He could taste fresh copper in his mouth as he probed the wound. It appeared he wouldn't be getting the same scar as Laura just yet. This was just another one of Maplin's tricks to screw up his head.

"I think your wife would like this one." Maplin said, holding up a serrated blade up to the light for Don to see.

Don inhaled sharply at the prospect. His lips twisting into a snarl at the potential threat to his wife and child.

He's fucking with you, Don told himself. Trying to put images in your head.

"I'll use it to cut off her clothes piece by piece, just like I did to Laura. You can't imagine what it does to me listening to a woman beg and fight while I hold her down." Maplin groaned as he drew out the words. "I bet my fingermarks will look stunning on that soft pale skin when I'm inside her."

Don't think about it. Don coached himself as he screwed his eyes shut. Do not do this to yourself.

Yet the images were already in his head flashing like a grotesque slide show of crime scene photographs.

The zipties Maplin would use to bind her wrists so that she couldn't struggle, couldn't fight. She would try. Jesus she would wretch and yank and buck to get out of those bonds. The restraint marks that would mar her bloody, bruised wrists, the feel of the plastic digging into her delicate flesh as she wrenched at their headboard, Maplin's weight bearing down on her. His manic grin at her whimper of agony tearing from her lips as Maplin wore down her resistance, dissecting her muscular structure slice by slice. Maplin's grunts were ringing in his ears as he imagined his wife's desperate cries...

He couldn't stand the idea of this animal in his house, it made him sick to think about the torment that he would inflict upon his wife. Fuck the idea of that knife anywhere near her skin made every single violent impulse he had spin completely out of control. He had promised Grace that he would never let anyone harm her again and this son of a bitch was threatening her with the most primal of tortures.

The thought of her broken and used like that, their baby fighting for life in her stomach drove him crazy. He didn't give a shit what Maplin did to him, he would take it all a thousand times over if it spared her from this psychopath.

He was wrenching at his bonds now, twisting and yanking with his body trying to free his hands or break the chair that he was tied to so he could murder this smug bastard beaming in front of him.

"I swear if you lay your hands anywhere near her and I will kill you, I will fucking tear you apart you sick son of a bitch." he raged as something warm trickled down his wrists, dripping down his fingertips.

The words were out in the open between them and as soon as they left his mouth Don wished like hell he could take them back. He had given Maplin an opening, he could see the pleasure in the other man's eyes dark eyes mounting as his grin twisted into something even more malicious.

Don sagged in his chair breathless as Maplin turned his back to the other man and began restocking his kit with the instruments he had removed. Don glared at the man's vulnerable back hatefully. He wished more than anything right now that looks could kill. His mind was already scrambling over facts, blurting out reassurances to calm himself as Maplin shut the tool box, his large fist curling around a set of keys left on the side. A rubix cube key chain swayed from side to side through his huge fingers.

Don's keys...

The one's from the front pocket of his jeans.

His house key was on that key ring.

Don felt sick at the knowledge he'd give Maplin a free pass into his home. Already he knew he had failed Grace and he prayed. He prayed to God that she had stayed at the crime lab, that Mac had enough foresight to know that she too would be a target.

Jesus he had to trust Grace in this. Her judgement was sound, he had seen that time and time again over the years. She wouldn't be stupid enough to go home and wait for him. The fear was overtaking him, he could feel his throat constricting and his chest compressing at the horror of the situation. If she and their baby died today it would be because of him.

"I'll say hi to Grace for you." Maplin uttered, before grasping the black hood and pulling it down back over Don's face.

The last sound Don heard before he started screaming was the sound of the other man's evil, deep laugh echoing through the empty space as the door clicked shut behind him.

Chapter 54

Summary:

Grace's father in law takes care of her.

Chapter Text

Gracie was asleep on the couch in Mac's office. Donald Flack Snr had been watching over the exhausted woman for over two hours now. She was family and so was the tiny little grandbaby nestled inside her. His wife was away with Sam caring for her cancer stricken sister in Hawaii. He hadn't been able to make contact with her since she had turned off her cell phone to board the plane.

Gracie was curled in the foetal position, her pale face buried in the couch cushions her delicate hands resting protectively upon her stomach. Mac had covered Gracie with a blanket when he had dropped in to check up on them. Donald thought she had underestimated the toll pregnancy took upon her body. Gracie was used to being active and participating, he had watched her fight her fatigue valiantly but in the end the baby had won out. Her body was working too hard under the pressure not to be worn down, she needed to recuperate her strength.

Donald rubbed a hand over his own weary features. As the police commissioner he had heard of such things happening over the years, he had attended hospital bedsides and funerals to cops who had fallen prey to the very people they hunted down but he had never once imagined that it could happen to his own son.

He prayed for his son every night before he slept. He prayed that St Michael would keep Don and Gracie safe in their jobs and that God himself watched out for Samantha because damn that girl needed more guidance than most people some days. She had been the child that had given him every single grey hair on his head. Girls were supposed to be easier than boys but he thought that's what came with being the youngest in the family. Don was always more mature for his age and he took the role of being the oldest very seriously.

Now his eldest was out in the world alone, God knows where, having God knows what done to him by someone they knew to be a complete sadist. Commissioner Frank Reagan was already pooling every single resource they had into finding his son, Frank was a good man with a family of cops of his own to worry about. He knew what went down on the streets and his expectations of the situation were refreshingly realistic. He had their best working on this case, every single member of the NYPD was shaking down their contacts for information while the crime lab processed the evidence to hand. There were no other cases on their desks until Don had been found Frank had reassured him.

"How's she doing?" The head of the New York City Crime Lab asked quietly as he closed the door behind him.

"She's hanging in there." Donald told the other man, his fingers clasped together as he rose his gaze up to meet Mac's. "You have news?"

Mac shook his head grimly.

"We're running the second set of fingerprints off the Taser through AFIS right now, we're waiting for them to get a hit. Detective Bobby Goren is out running down all the leads coming down from the tipline and Detective Danny Reagen from Major Crimes is leading the task force. We're fortunate enough to have access to FBI resources so things are moving faster than usual." he informed the other man.

"Agent Beth Stevenson's pulling out all of the stops just like she promised." Donald stated, feeling relieved at the prospect.

Hopefully that would buy Don some more time in the long run. The brunette had come to visit him and Gracie a few hours ago when Donald had first arrived at the crime lab. She had taken his daughter in law's hands in her own as they perched on the couch in front of him and informed her she would do everything in her power to aid the investigation.

In the hours since they had been caught up in a whirl wind of activity. Both him and Gracie had sat him on the initial meetings with the Chief of Detectives and the Commissioner, to see that these people were willing to do whatever they could to bring back her husband seemed to calm her raging spirit just a little. Donald was already aware of the hell his daughter in law would have raised if the star players hadn't taken notice. If they hadn't paid attention to her, Donald himself still held a lot of power in the NYPD and he would have called in every single favour he had to make the earth move in a bid to find his son.

"Do you think he's still alive?" Donald asked Mac directly as he reviewed his sleeping daughter in law.

He would do what needed to be done to see that his daughter in law and his grandchild were taken care of if worse came to worse. His son's legacy would still live on and he was determined that they would get the support they needed if Gracie became a widow. Donald didn't want to think of the implications of those words but he was a man of rationality and he knew that the window of hope that he was so fiercely depending on was shrinking.

"There was nothing at the crime scene to indicate that he's been killed. If there's anything I do know it's that your son's a fighter, he'll do everything in his power to survive whatever is happening him, whatever the odds are." Mac stated as a matter of fact.

"You know he was the most determined kid I know. The only thing Don ever wanted to do was become a cop. The day he graduated was the happiest day of his life until he met Gracie and he hasn't stopped smiling since." Donald recounted, an air of pride in his voice.

"I knew there was something bothering him." Donald said, squinting in memory. "When him and Gracie came over yesterday to tell us about the baby, I asked him about it when we were alone in the kitchen."

"And he told you about Dale Maplin." Grace murmured from her position on the sofa.

Both men twisted their heads towards her as she propped her head up with her hand. Her grey eyes were red rimmed and there were dark circles underneath them.

"That's why you brought your service pistol isn't it?" Grace asked Donald. "He told you he was worried because of what happened at the coffee house."

"He wasn't sure it was Maplin, he was going to show you a picture but it looks like he never got the chance." Donald fixed Grace with his own vivid blue stare.

Grace wrapped her arms around her abdomen trying to protect their baby from this conversation.

"It was Maplin." she said quietly, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I looked him up on the database before and told Mac. Don's had our apartment under protective detail for the past two days, he must of seen the window of opportunity closing and decided now was the best time to take him."

"We have to chase down all the other avenues in case Maplin has a partner." Mac told them both before coming to sit beside Grace on the couch. "But right now it's safe to assume he's working on his own. Angell is taking apart Maplin's life as we speak. He uses his credit cards and we'll know about it."

"He's had Don for five hours." Grace uttered, rubbing her hand over her stomach anxiously trying to reassure herself and the baby. "He kept Laura Mathews for eighteen."

She hadn't looked at the photographs in the case file, she couldn't bring herself to. She knew what Maplin had done to that girl and the knowledge was in itself was too much of a burden to bear. No matter what Mac said she knew it was Maplin that had Don, she could feel it in her gut as it tightened with fear and dread. She inhaled deeply trying to ground herself.

"Angell said the detail was pulled off this morning." Mac stated.

"Sinclair said it wasn't a realistic threat, Don couldn't prove Maplin was doing anything wrong." Grace explained, shaking her head as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

"I heard the fall out from the other room." Donald told Mac as Grace's shoulders sagged at the mention of the argument. "Gracie tore the old man a new one."

"How are officers supposed to keep each New York City safe if the NYPD won't even give them the resources to take care of their own families?" Grace muttered, massaging her temples at the impending headache. "It's ridiculous. I wanted him to know that I blame him for this, if anything happens to Don I will tear him down piece by piece after I put a bullet in Maplin's head."

"Grace." Mac warned, with a stern glare.

Grace dismissed his tone before putting her head in her hands.

"I just want him back." she said softly as tears stung at her eyes. "I want him back so badly."

At the very least she could take some solace in the fact that every single member of the NYPD was praying for exactly the same thing.

Chapter 55

Summary:

Maplin leaves a gift for Grace.

Chapter Text

It was the expression on Detective Angell's face that sent a chill running up Stella's spine as she stood respectfully outside the door to Flack's apartment, hands clasped in front of her. Her tanned skin was unusually pale as she clenched her jaw, her dark eyes blazing with indignant rage. Her hands were wound into tight fists which hung by her sides.

"How bad is it?" Hawkes asked the other woman in his rich soft tone.

Angell shook her head blowing out a long suffering breath from her parted lips. The uniform that stood beside her guarding the door, looked positively ill as he swallowed hard against the lump in his throat.

"The bastard left Grace a gift in the bedroom." she said finally, before stepping back through the open apartment door.

The living room and kitchen area looked exactly the way they assumed Grace and Flack had left them. It was tidy and neat, Grace's laptop was parked on the edge of the coffee table, a hand written list of things to do scribbled on the note pad beside it written in Don's clear bold font.

"Dispatch responded to a call from one of their neighbours saying that the door was ajar, she knew that Don was missing from the news and called it in." Angell recounted. "Detective Reagen's on his way to view the scene along with Detective Goren."

"I've worked a few cases with Reagen." Stella submitted, the trepidation in her chest growing as they took each step closer to the shut bedroom door. "He's a raising star up in Major Case and Goren's clearance record is second to none."

"I would have liked them to have intervened before something like this happened." Angell snarked, placing her hand on the apartment door and pushing it open to reveal the bedroom.

The bed was made, the crisp navy blue sheets pulled stark against the rigid, mahogany frame. It was the pillows that first drew Stella's attention, clearly someone had been searching for something underneath them from the state of disarray they were in. She couldn't help but wonder what.

There was a book placed at a jaunty angle on the small wooden table. It turned out Grace was reading 'Shadow of the Wind' by Carlos Ruiz Zafon. A pair of silver, star shaped studs were deposited near the base of the lamp, alongside a silver charm bracelet that Flack had bought Grace for Christmas. Angell tilted her head as she realized there was a new addition to the growing collection of brightly coloured charms, a tiny, glittering baby carriage and that made her chest ache even more.

On Don's side was an alarm clock and an open box containing two silver cuff links, she guessed he had tossed them in there after him and Grace had spent the night celebrating their pregnancy.

There was a small, gold hologram gift box sitting in the middle of the bed. The red velvet bow was tied expertly around the lid of the box, a square gift tag was attached to it sporting a single name in thick black marker pen.

Grace.

"Did you open it?" Hawkes asked as the three of them stared at the gift box dumbstruck.

"Yea." Angell sighed unable to describe the weight of the horror that was sitting in her chest.

Flack was her partner and to bare witness to this mess was driving Angell insane. They were meant to have each other's backs and over the years they had but she had failed on his part last night. She should have took more notice when he mentioned Maplin, she hadn't seen the worry in his eyes, she had only seen the frustration and the anger. It infuriated her that she had let that psychopath take her partner, even more so now that she knew about Grace's condition.

Stella pulled on her set of latex gloves before reaching out for the lid and removing it from the parcel. Nestled amongst the folds of the white tissue paper was a severed finger. Stella felt sick at the sight before her, she took in the ragged tool marks that rippled at the point of severance before tilting her head away from the appendage.

"The bastard cut off his finger." Stella told Hawkes stiffly, holding out the box for him to see.

Her mouth was dry as she forced herself to look at the finger yet again. If Flack had experienced this then she could damn well bare the burden of looking at it. She owed him that much. Hawkes plucked out the finger from the box, bringing it closer to his face in order to examine it. He frowned as he studied it.

"We put it on ice, maybe we can reattach it." Angell offered hopefully.

"Tissue can only survive for a maximum of twelve hours." Hawkes said softly as he tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. "This fingers at least three days old."

Hawkes held the finger out towards Angell, using his pinkie to indicate to the patchy redness along the length of skin.

"See this." he asked her as she recoiled. "It's freezer burn, the finger was cut off and stored on ice until Maplin needed it."

Angell breathed a sigh of relief at that news. It didn't mean anything, she knew that but it lightened the load a little. She could believe that her partner was ok because there was no evidence to suggest otherwise. She knew she wasn't being realistic, she had studied the Maplin case for hours after her partner had been snatched and it refuted everything that she was praying for. They wouldn't know how bad it was until they found Flack, dead or alive.

"There's no sign of forced entry so I'm guessing he used Flack's keys to get in." Angell uttered flipping through her note book.

Hawkes replaced the finger back in the box as Stella shook her head.

"We found Flack's keys in the SUV." she stated, looking puzzled at the possibility.

"Those are his work keys. Flack keeps his house keys in his locker or on him. Doesn't like the idea of perp's getting hold of them or situations like this I guess." Angell said shaking her head woefully.

"He must have had them on him when he was taken." Stella remarked thoughtfully. "Was there anything else on that keyring?"

"A rubix cube keyring and the apartment key, that was it." Angell confided.

"Why mess with the pillows?" Hawkes asked, gesturing with his hands towards the head of the bed. "Why would he do that?"

"It looks like he was searching for something." Angell stated, frowning at the mess. "The rest of the bed's the same and the apartment's not trashed."

"It's only on Grace's side." Hawkes pointed out.

"He wanted something, something to help him gain leverage out of Flack." Stella spoke out loud as the thoughts tumbled into her head. "Grace wasn't here so he took something to prove he'd been here. What's more intimate than your wife's nightdress?"

"Maplin is one screwed up piece of shit." Angell swallowed hard past the bile burning in the back of her throat.

"The good news is if that's the reason he was here, Flack must still be alive." Hawkes reasoned as his eyes came to linger on the severed finger.

There were no hesitation marks from what he could see, Maplin had sliced it off without a second thought. There was no remorse in his actions, just a clear concise sense of calculation. He was fully aware of the implications as he spoke again.

"The only question that remains is for how long?"


Danny Messer was exhausted. He could feel the weariness setting in deep within his bones as he withdrew from the microscope rubbing his gritty cornflower blue eyes. Him and Grace had pulled double before they had gotten the call out about Flack's abandoned SUV.

The trace evidence he had found on the ground embedded a large footprint near the SUV was a mixture of two separate DNA components and something else. It was the something else that was killing him, it was the key to the degraded DNA samples he was struggling to analyse.

He couldn't believe that this was happening. Over twenty four hours ago him and Flack had been toasting to the conception of his friend's new son or daughter and now his closest friend was trapped in the hands of some screwed up psychopath.

It was going too slow for Danny, time was running out and he knew it. He had worked the Maplin case, he had been the secondary to Stella but he had studied the photographs afterwards and seen that damage. What Maplin had done was heinous. Danny couldn't bring himself to imagine the horror that Flack was going through right now. He couldn't stand the idea of his friend being carved up like some butchered animal. It tore up his insides like hot coals.

The scent of coffee wafted through the room assaulting his nostrils and making his stomach growl. He had forgotten the last time he had actually eaten. Danny twisted in his seat to face the door of the Trace Lab casting a grim smile at the pretty young auburn haired CSI who lingered in the frame. Anna Harris's bright hazel eyes fixed on him as she held up a Starbucks take out mug and a sandwich.

"I've come to help." she said simply in her warm Australian accent as she stepped inside.

"It's your day off." Danny stated, running his hands through his dirty blond hair.

"Mac requested my help." Anna told him with a shrug. "I worked the case of the uniform that was killed last week up in Queens. You guys have his Taser and apparently his finger, we think Maplin killed him and stole the Taser to use on Flack. Since he did it on a different borough, news took a little while to get around."

"Killing a cop to get his Taser and his finger." Danny said shaking his head. "The guy is organised and he's learned since we last caught him. The Major Case Squad has managed to pin down a zone in Queens where he'd been spending the money on his credit cards, they think he's located somewhere in there but its still a big space. I've been working on this Trace for hours trying to narrow it down but I can't separate the two DNA samples from the component."

Anna set the coffee and the sandwich down on the desk beside her before dropping into the roller chair as Danny scooted over to her.

"These are for you, so you don't collapse." Anna said firmly, shoving the plastic coated BLT sandwich into his hands.

Danny tore open the wrapping and bit into the sandwich relishing his first taste of food in over ten hours before taking a gulp of coffee. He'd forgotten how good the warm liquid felt on the way down. He took this opportunity to sneak a glance at Anna over the rim of his Starbucks cup.

It had been days since the two of them had seen each other and he found he had missed her even more than he thought possible. The first time he had met Anna she had been on loan from one of the other shifts to cover Grace's hours when the other woman was off work due to the gunshot wound. The minute the sunny young woman had walked into his Trace Lab he felt he could see again.

The world had been a dark place since Ruben's death, he had drowned himself in the days after he'd seen the boy's body on the slab. The guilt had chewed him up and spat him back out as some hollow decrepit man. He had struggled for a long time after that. With help he had picked himself back up but things had never been the same since, the joy he felt was always for other people and never his own. He was so very painfully lonely.

Danny admitted sometimes he was jealous of what Flack and Grace had. The two of them were made for each other, every glance and every touch that passed between them was like some secret communication that only they were privy too. When Danny watched them, eating together, talking, even just sitting in the same room reading separate newspapers he was witness to something he had very little understanding of. It was like there was magic in the air and he couldn't quite grasp that. Or at least he hadn't until he met Anna.

It seemed ridiculous to say that she was his ray of sunshine but it was true. Whenever she was near him all of his armour disintegrated and he was back to the grinning, funny and somewhat charming young man he used to be.

The two of them were taking it slow at the current moment and Danny was content with that pace. He hadn't dated in over two years and the prospect of getting back into the swing of things unnerved him. The casual one night stands he had barely scratched at the real urges that lay underneath his broken psyche but just spending even a little time in Anna's presence seemed to heal him bit by bit. There was no pressure in the situation and he liked that, she seemed to sense his needs and moved with them accordingly. She was fluid, adaptable and almost blindingly bright.

Danny dusted the crumbs off his hands into the plastic packaging before reaching out and letting his fingertips gently trail over the fair skin of Anna's hand before he laced his fingers in hers.

"Thank you." He murmured in a hushed tone. "For coming here and taking care of me."

"I know your trying to be strong right now and I admire that." Anna told him, he could tell by the look in her sincere hazel eyes that she meant every word she said. "I know it's tough but you've got to hang in there. Your not doing Flack any favours by running yourself down like that."

Even thought her scolding was gentle he felt like he had been adequately reprimanded. She was right of course and he was at peace with that. He needed her in his corner for moments like this and if she ever needed him, he would be there in a heartbeat. There was silence between them and he knew that she was waiting ever so patiently for him to talk. Whenever he was with her, he found himself pouring out every single one of his secrets. There were no boundaries, no judgements, Anna simply made things easy with those knowing eyes and that solicitous carefree smile.

"I'm scared for him." Danny confessed, squeezing Anna's fingers as he swallowed back the fear raising up inside him. "I'm scared that he won't come back or if he does that he won't be the same. You saw what Maplin did to that uniform, what he did to Laura Mathews destroyed her life. If that happens to Don I don't know how he'll cope."

"With you and the rest of his family by his side. Flack is strong and so are you. You've just got to have a little faith. We will find him Danny, it's just a matter of time." Anna said with conviction.

"I just needed to hear that." Danny told her, raising her hand to his lips turning it over so he could kiss her pulse point.

The two of them shared a discreet smile before Anna pulled her hand away and scooted over to the microscope to take a look at Danny's mystery trace.

Her eyes narrowed as she studied the components intently.

Degraded samples of age old cow blood, pig blood and the chemical compositions of salt and antifreeze.

A mixture of samples that could only be related to one place.

An abattoir.

Chapter 56

Summary:

Adam and Grace have a moment.

Chapter Text

The baby was pissed off, Grace could tell by the fact she had spent the last ten minutes vomiting her guts up in the ladies bathroom of the Crime Lab. It was six in the morning, Don had been taken just over twelve hours ago and now she had just developed morning sickness.

Grace didn't blame the baby for revolting against her at this point, she had hardly been fair to it over the past few hours. Her stress levels had been sky-rocketing, her diet had been littered with coffee and candy bars, she was not being kind at the moment. She thought that the baby may have given her a little lee way considering she'd been so invested in the search for it's daddy but the irate collection of cells inside her was unforgiving. It was telling her to slow down and take a breath but Grace was struggling. She couldn't lose Don or this baby, she simply could not.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." she murmured, her hand rubbing across her unsettled stomach.

"You need to slow down." Adam told her, his fingers raking through her hair and holding it back as another wave of nausea overtook her. "I know it's hard right now but this is the baby's way of telling you you need to start taking care of yourself."

"My husband is missing, how the hell am I supposed to 'slow down'?" she snapped, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth.

"Gracie, you have to stop this. You need to look after yourself and take care of this baby. You can't just let everything fall apart. Don needs something to come home to and if he finds out that you've been neglecting that baby, we'll never hear the end of it." Adam informed her.

Grace withdrew from the toilet closing the lid.

"I think I'm done." she told him rubbing her hand over her face.

Adam released her hair so it fell lankly around her shoulders. His hands were gentle and caring as he helped her to her feet. He watched as she slipped out of the stall and moved to the sink before turning on the cold water tap and rinsing out her mouth before splashing some of the water on her face. Adam passed her a paper towel, Grace used it to dry her face before turning towards him.

"Your right." she sighed. "I'm not doing my job as a mom."

"I think you can be forgiven for that but you need to start thinking of this baby even though all this other crazy stuff is happening." Adam told her. "That's what Don would want."

"I feel it you know?" she said quietly, her thumb toying with the St Michael's sovereign around her throat. "I know he's hurting so God damned badly, I can feel it right deep down inside my chest and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it. It's the only thing that's keeping me going because it means he's still alive."

There were no words that Adam could say to dispel the fear that resided between the both of them. There was an immense sadness in his bones and he would do anything to take away the despair in Grace's eyes right now. It had been a long time since he'd seen her so lost and hopeless. It wasn't fair, Grace didn't deserve this. Life just kept kicking her while she was down. It hurt him to see her so frightened.

His arms wrapped around her body impulsively. She sank into his embrace like someone who was drowning. Her hands were holding onto him, clutching at his T-shirt clasping him close. Her panic was overwhelming, he could feel it in her body as she began to tremble against his solid form. She was trying the best she could to hold everything together but sometimes Adam understood better than most it was simply too much. His lips brushed across her hair line as his scarred palm caressed the soft delicate skin of her cheek. He kissed her closed eyelids, her cheeks and eventually he came to those pert pink lips.

"Adam don't..." she whispered as his lips lingered just above hers.

Her words were like an electric shock pulsating through his system as his azure eyes snapped open. Grace was withdrawing already as Adam took an abrupt step back, his hand over his mouth in horror.

"God Grace what the hell was I doing?" he asked her mortified. "Your pregnant and your husband is missing, I don't even have an excuse, I don't even like you..."

Grace grasped at his hand, gently shushing him as Adam wrenched himself away from her attempts to calm him. This was bad, this was awful. He raked his hands through his wavy, untamed hair in agitation. He couldn't believe he had let himself get caught up like that. In the years he had known her, he had never reacted that way.

The truth was he had no romantic designs upon Grace, he never had. He understood the attraction for other men but he himself was never subject to her charms and he had never wanted to be. Too many emotions had been entangling up in the air and he had responded to her desperation, got caught up in it. All he had wanted to do was take away that terror and now he had screwed things up between the two of them.

"We didn't do anything. Our lips never met." Grace told him firmly. "We got caught up in a moment and that's ok, it happens. You were comforting me and our signals got crossed. It's fine."

Adam peered at her from between his fingers in disbelief. She was offering him a lifeline here. Her empathy and understanding of the situation reminded him why the two of them were friends in the first place. She had always had an uncanny ability to read him, just like he could always see underneath that mask she wore.

"Look if I had any doubt in my mind that Don was my soul mate I wouldn't have married him and I have never had a romantic feeling for you at all. I care about you deeply but just not in that way and I know it's the same way for you. You didn't want to kiss me because your attracted to me you just wanted to take away everything that I'm feeling right now and that's not your fault, it's what friends do." Grace explained, showing him the facts as she saw them.

She had hit the nail straight on the head and now the issue between them was resolving as he lay his own cards out on the table.

"I love you Grace but I don't want to be with you." he confirmed, shaking his head. "Your the closest friend I've got and I wanted you to know I'm here no matter what happens. I didn't mean to go that far I was just trying to make you feel better."

"Thank you." Grace said genuinely, massaging her stomach lightly. "For holding my hair back and for being here for me and the baby. I need someone to remind me I'm not invincible sometimes."

"Just because you have a Wonderwoman apron doesn't make it true." Adam pointed out, his lips twitching with the beginnings of a smile as the usual dynamic between them slipped into place once again.

Chapter 57

Summary:

Don faces off with Maplin one last time.

Chapter Text

He was kissing her, his hands were mingling through her dark hair as her soft lips brushed his lightly. His thumb was smoothing over the blush of her pale delicate cheek as he became overwhelmed in the sensation. She was bliss. Sheer unadulterated ecstasy pulsated through him as her silky hair caressed his rough unshaven cheeks.

"Your breakfast is getting cold." she whispered between suggestive kisses.

Her slender fingers enclosed around a cool, fresh strawberry from the bowl she had placed them in. Grace used it to trace a pattern across his feverish skin causing him to moan out loud before she popped it into his mouth with a teasing smile.

"Feeling experimental are we?" he asked her, scooping a well of maple syrup onto his fingertip and smearing it down the curve of her throat.

His hot tongue followed close behind, licking the sweetness off of his wife's succulent flesh.

"Hm breakfast in bed was an excellent idea." he breathed into her ear, his fingers tugging impatiently at the sash that was holding her silk pearl coloured robe closed.

That had been the morning after their wedding. They had spent a long, sensual, exhausting night making love to one another. Grace had awoken him late the next morning with a tray of fresh pancakes and an array of toppings. She had placed the tray on the night stand before Don had pulled her back down amongst the sheets to greet his new wife appropriately.

Every moment they were apart was another moment that reminded him that he could never live without her...

It was the memories that kept Don going through the excruciating pain that plagued his battered body. He could barely breathe against the antagonizing fire burning on the surface of his chest. The stench of burnt flesh was in the air, making him sick to the stomach at the knowledge that the smell he was inhaling was his own. The space above his heart was already starting to blister from the press of the curling iron. His wrists were bloody and raw from the ziptie that bound them together behind his back. He had spent hours, manipulating his hands in order to rub the plastic against the jagged metal of the chair's frame.

Before Maplin had returned he thought he has been getting somewhere, there had been hope in his heart, Don had been able to taste freedom. Instead now all he had was the bitterness of his own grief and the sour taste of blood on his tongue.

He had lost track of the amount of cuts Maplin had inflicted upon his flesh. He had dissected the muscular structure of Don's chest so much it looked like a bloody road map of the city. His shirt had been cut away from his body with a large pair of office scissors, there were small pinpricks in his large straining biceps and along his forearms from where Maplin had purposely prodded him.

Don added that to the bottom of the list of ailments he was suffering at the hands of Maplin. His left eye was already swollen so much he could barely see out of it, his lower lip tasted of copper as his tongue probed the split skin.

Maplin was already rubbing the balled up silk night dress from underneath Grace's pillow across his bruised, naked skin. Her familiar floral scent invaded his nostrils yet again bringing tears to his already stinging eyes. All this physical pain was nothing compared to the mental anguish that was ripping and tearing through his entire being. He had stripped that material from her gorgeous pregnant body, drawing it up and over her head before the two of them had made love for the last time. He had watched her fold it and place it underneath her pillow before getting ready for work the morning after.

Don remembered taste of her mouth as her lips had smothered his own stealing one last kiss before she'd entered the crime lab. Her smile had been infectious that morning, he had caught her looking in the mirror pulling her vest top taunt trying to see if she has any assemble of a bump yet. His hands had smoothed over her flat stomach caressing the area where they're baby resided.

Now all that was gone, his life had been dismantled piece by piece and there was nothing left. Grace and their baby had apparently been murdered and that was the cruellest torture of all. Don thought he would have felt it. The moment she passed he expected his soul to have evaporated right out of his chest along with hers and their baby's but in reality he had felt nothing but an intense crushing numbness.

Maplin had desecrated and defiled his wife's body in ways that Don forced himself not to imagine. The other man had spent hours in between the carving, describing each and every filthy detail of her death and the only thing Don had felt was a deranged detachment from the event. It wasn't real in his mind, even when Maplin had inhaled Grace's scent from the nightdress right before Don's eyes there was barely a flicker of emotion. A nightdress wasn't evidence, he wouldn't believe that Grace and his baby were dead until he saw her body.

Don's throat was raw when the hoarse scream was torn from his lips as Maplin's knife plunged deep into his left thigh, cutting through his jeans like butter. His breath was ragged coming in rapid, short pants through his grinding teeth as stray tears leaked down his sallow cheeks. The pain was unbelievable as the blade transected the muscle. Don could feel the pressure Maplin exerted as he yanked the blade back and forth lengthening the depth of the wound before finally withdrawing his knife. There was relief in that action despite the fact it felt like his thigh had been ripped open. The hot flow of blood was already soaking through his denim jeans around the jagged hole. He wondered if Maplin had caught something important, whether he would die here bleeding out from his femoral artery.

"So you do cry." Maplin's rich, deep voice was twinged with amusement.

The other man's teeth were bared as he leaned in closer so his craggy lined face was the only thing that Don could see as their eyes met. There was malevolence in Maplin's stare, the agony Don's body was wrought with bought him more pleasure than he could possibly have imagined. He used the cool serrated edge of his knife to wipe away the briefest tear from the younger man's cheekbone. He enjoyed watching the detective flinch as the blade caressed the corner of his mouth yet again.

The tip of the weapon grated across the darkening stubble of Don's cheek and down to his jaw before Maplin traced the vivid blue line of his jugular vein. He could feel his own pulse in his throat as the blade bit into his neck so tauntingly close as the slow agony of the pressure increased.

"Do it." Don seethed through grinding teeth. "Just get it over with and kill me."

"Only if you ask nicely." Maplin hissed as a sickly smile curved over his dishevelled features. "Just like your wife did when she begged for it."

The rage and the adrenaline that pursed through Don's veins at that moment was incredible as he lunged forward in his seat snarling and wrestling with his bonds. His wrists were raw from the rub of the sturdy plastic. Don felt it pull and give as Maplin's evil laughter rang loudly in his ears. What was left of the ziptie snapped under the strain of Don's onslaught as he lunged forward once more.

There was a moment where Maplin's expression became the definition of surprise. His mouth formed an "O" and his hazel eyes went wide as the entire weight of the homicide detective collided with him.

The first punch sent a loud satisfying crunch through the air as Don felt Maplin's nose break underneath his knuckles before he hit him again. Blood poured from Maplin's nose as he swung at Don with the glittering knife, barely scrapping the other man's nude chest.

Don's entire body was suffering, his head was spinning from blood loss as Maplin caught him in the gut with a right hook that stole the breath right out of his lungs. He lunged at Maplin like a football player as his left knee buckled at the stress of supporting his damaged thigh. Don's hand wrapped around Maplin's wrist, ramming it upwards as the madman's knife arced towards him. There was no doubt in his mind that this was a fight for survival and he was hurting in every which way possible.

Don knew it was over the instant his left leg collapsed completely underneath him causing Don to drop to his knees in agony as the two men grappled for the knife. The action gave Maplin the leverage he needed to wrench the blade from Don's exhausted fingers. His free hand gripped the other man's throat, his fingertips bruising, digging into Don's tender flesh as he crushed the air slowly out of the struggling homicide detective's windpipe.

"This is the way it should be." Maplin told Don as he wrestled and fought against the psychopath's grasp, choking for breath. "You on your knees, staring into my eyes as I slaughter you like a pig."

His bulging arm swung back, the knife glinting in the light from the bulbs above them. This was it Don thought as darkness paraded across his vision. He was exhausted, every single muscle he had was in severe pain as he felt his grip on Maplin's wrist begin to subside as his movements became more restricted and slower. His head was pounding from the pressure as he waited for the second the blade would slice his across his throat, spilling out his blood into the world. No such blow came instead there was a roaring in his ears and Don felt himself laughing inside at the thought that the last sound he heard would be the retort of gun fire.

The knife made a clinking noise as it stuck the ground, Maplin dropped to his knees so his face was on level with Don's as his shirt blossomed red around the three bullet holes that had been put in him. Don wavered, gulping in lungfuls of putrid air forcing himself to watch the life draining away in Maplin's face as he struggled to keep himself upright.

"Go to hell, you sadistic piece of shit." Don whispered as the light flickered out of Maplin's eyes, his hulking body sloping backwards striking the cold concrete with a dull thud.

Don wobbled for a second, swaying as he tried to maintain some balance. He was in a bad way, his breathing was laboured as he teetered between consciousness. He was so tired and everything was hurting so badly, he could feel himself starting to slip backwards.

There were firm hands resting gently on his shoulders, holding him steady as he swayed back and forth. His brain was scrambling, jumbling images and memories together in order for Don to make sense of the relief that was flooding through him at the other man's presence.

Danny Messer, it told him, flashing up a picture of the best man at his wedding. He could trust Danny to take care of him, not to judge him in this wretched, broken state. His shoulders sagged at the knowledge as all his defences tumbled down. They had been deadlocked for so long it was almost a breath of fresh air when they disappeared.

"Flack buddy, can you hear me?" Danny's concerned voice was in his ears as he knelt down in front of his friend trying to establish a connection between them.

To say Flack was a mess was an understatement. He had never seen the other man in such a distraught, ruined state. His brain was processing the damage visually, almost in the background as his heart took over and did what needed to be done in a bid to comfort his friend. Flack wouldn't want anyone seeing him like this, he deemed it as a sign of weakness in himself and he wanted to protect his friend from the demons that Danny knew would encompass his mind when this was all over. Danny unzipped his windbreaker and peeled it from body.

"Yea." Don croaked in response to Danny's question as he tilted his head away from his friend's gaze.

Don flinched at the sensation of something light being draped over his broad shoulders. It took him a second to realize it was Danny's CSI Windbreaker. The dirty blond CSI helped him struggle into it before Don's fingertips fumbled with the zipper and he drew it up over his carved up, bloody chest. Already he could feel the blood sticking to the material as it flowed freely from him.

"Grace?" he questioned, his voice weak as Danny knelt once again beside his friend and pulled his arm around the back of his neck.

Don was grateful for Danny's intuitive nature, he couldn't walk on his own. He could barely support his own weight after Maplin had plunged that blade into his leg. He knew there was something badly wrong with it but he couldn't bring himself to care about that right now, not when there were other more important things to consider.

"She's right outside with your little bambino." Danny reassured him, supporting Don's weight as he aided the other man to his feet. "I got ya buddy."

"I need to see her." Don muttered, his head bowed as Danny led him past Stella and Mac and out of the side door to the abattoir.

He was blinded by the flashing lights that lit up the night time air outside of the building. There was a ridiculous amount of people there and he hated it. The sound of sirens was piercing through his brain making his head ache and spin even more. It disorientated him and he found himself shrinking back as Hawkes hurried towards them, his medikit in hand.

"Let's get you patched up..." he began kindly.

That's when he saw her, his wife battling with a patrol cop who was trying to keep her back, away from him. A low growl emitted from his throat at the notion in an almost savage impulse. He needed his mate beside him, he needed to check her over and satisfy himself that that sadistic predator lying dead in the abattoir hadn't laid a hand on her.

Grace's worried grey eyes came to rest on him as she darted under the arm of the uniformed police officer, shoving her badge in his face as she went by. She was clad in the same wrinkled clothing he had last seen her in and her hair was in a state of disarray. She only had eyes for him as she hurled herself at him. She was still the most precious thing in his world right now and nothing would ever take that away.

Don folded into her embrace like a man possessed enveloping her slender body with his own hunched, shattered figure as he buried his face into her silky hair inhaling her seductive floral scent. Jesus she felt so good pressed against his muscular frame even though it hurt like hell. She took the full weight of him as he leaned on her for support, Danny lingering nearby to help if needed.

She was home, his safety and his life line. When he was with her nothing could harm him and he needed that now more than ever. Her love wrapped around him, cloaking him from the horrors that beseeched his mind as a choked sob wretched from his chest as he began to fall apart in her secure hold. His eyes were stinging once more with a thousand unshed tears he had managed to keep at bay during his time held captive. He clutched onto her with what little strength he had left as he spoke in a heartbreaking, hushed whisper that only she could hear.

"Please Grace, don't you dare let me go."

Chapter 58

Summary:

The nightmare is over for the team.

Chapter Text

The crime lab was quiet in the aftermath of Flack's rescue. There was a revered silence spreading through the area like Adam had never seen before. Flack was a respected part of their day to day lives, that this had happened to him was shocking in a way that cut every single person who knew him right down to the core.

Adam raked his hands through his wavy hair as he thought of torment that had been inflicted upon the other man, he couldn't imagine what it must have been like to have spent sixteen hours in the hands of psychopath but Adam knew a thing or two about pain. He knew what it was like to be mentally and physically abused, to see no way out of a situation that would eventually result in death.

The road to recovery would be far from easy even for a resilient guy like Flack, he was looking at weeks in the hospital and long term therapy afterwards to stave off the possibility of PTSD manifesting itself. Adam had seen what post traumatic stress disorder could do to a person and it killed him every time he associated the thought with Flack.

In Grace's mind he knew that was a small price to pay. Her husband had almost died today and Grace always thought she could take whatever fate dished her out and that concerned Adam. Under any other circumstance he would have agreed, she was strong and feisty, she proved it by tackling the Brass and fighting for Flack. But there was someone else to think about now.

Grace wanted that baby, Adam could see in her eyes how much she loved that child and that frightened him. She didn't know how to slow down, he had seen her pull herself in so many different directions over the past twenty four hours it scared him. The amount of pressure she was putting on herself was going to end up harming that baby and the stress that was to come...

It drove him crazy thinking of the possibilities. She had to know what this situation was going to do to her body, she was educated. On that level Adam knew she must understand the risks but she was stubborn, painfully so and that was one of her greatest flaws.

Adam would do his best to help of course, whatever Grace and Flack needed he would step up and help them. The two of them were part of his family and he would support them in anyway that was necessary to help lighten the load that was stacked upon their shoulders. That's what friends did for each other.

Grace was his best friend and that was the only feelings he had for her. He could see why people were attracted to her, she was warm, pretty and caring but Adam had never felt her allure despite his near folly in the ladies bathroom this morning. He hadn't been thinking when he'd reacted to Grace's desperation.

Adam was glad she'd had her wits about her enough to stop the two of them making a horrific mistake. He got that she was upset and petrified. He understood those emotions as if they were brothers in arms and when he'd seen her looking so worn down and pathetic he had responded in the only way he knew how. His chest had ached at seeing his friend so distraught, her pain was his pain and he knew that it worked the opposite way around too. Grace had stepped in many a time for him, just this time there had been too many emotions flying around and he'd gotten caught up in that.

"You ok?" Anna asked the rugged lap tech as she watched him stare vacantly through the glass panels of the crime lab.

She'd been standing in the door way for over three minutes saying his name and it appeared he hadn't heard a thing.

Adam jerked his head towards her as he withdrew from his reveries, he rubbed spot between his tired azure eyes with his fingertips trying to massage away the tension headache that was setting in.

"I just can't stop thinking about it you know." he said helplessly before shaking his head. "I'm glad you were here to separate those samples when you did otherwise we would have lost him."

"Detective Reagen was the one that interoperated the evidence." Anna shrugged. "I just gave him the information, there aren't that many abandoned abattoirs around and Maplin had been spending a lot around Queens even though he lived in Brooklyn so it made sense that he had some sort of holding place around there."

"You helped save somebody's life today, maybe even three people's. I can't begin to tell you how thankful I am for that." he said earnestly as he bowed his head. "I don't know what would have happened if we'd lost Flack."

Anna blushed at his words before pursing her lips together and tilting her to the left.

"But you didn't." she reminded him. "I know recovery is going to be hard but he's got you guys and from what Danny says your all a great group of people to have around in a time of crisis. He's lucky to have you on his side."

Adam nodded his agreement at her words before Anna withdrew from the room, smiling a greeting at a dazzling brunette as she passed her by in the corridor.

"I've come to take you home." Beth announced as she stood in the doorway jingling her keys with a triumphant smile.

Adam couldn't describe the things that glorious smile did to him. His shoulders sagged with relief, her presence drawing his inner self out from behind the mask he wore daily. The real Adam was stepping forward, inhibiting his body now just as it always did when Beth was around. He rose to his feet, his face set in that familiar expression of child like innocence that Beth was used to seeing. Her arms wrapped around his waist as she stepped into his embrace. She knew what he needed, what he craved and longed for. His years of abuse had taught him never to ask for comfort or reassurance but no matter how much he tried to hide it she could always see it in his azure eyes and she gave it freely.

"I love you." he told her for the first time burying his face in her shoulder. "I've never said it before because I was so scared that you didn't feel the same way but I can't keep hiding it any more. I want you to know that you mean everything to me Beth. Your my home."

She understood the meaning behind his words and she was touched. For so long she had wondered and she had hoped. The two of them had a lot of fun together and Adam made her laugh in ways that no other person could. He was the bright shining light of her world and now he had made her happier than she could bring herself to express.

"I love you too." she said quietly, clutching him even closer.

Chapter 59

Summary:

Grace prays...

Chapter Text

The chapel of the hospital was a small, narrow room centred in the very hub of the hospital somewhere between the Emergency Room and the Operating Theatres. It was a solemn but cheerful kind of place. There were a few wooden pews on either side of a thin aisle. An arty, beech coloured cross was stuck to the wall between two small statuettes of Jesus and Mary at the head of the chapel.

Grace rarely prayed but now seemed like a good time to build that bridge with God again, especially with Don's life still clasped so tightly in his hands. Grace laced her fingers together before tilting her head up towards the cross that stood before her. She was sitting alone in the first pew as footsteps echoed through the vacant area.

Dear God, I know I'm lame at this...

"I thought I'd find you here." The sound of a familiar voice echoed through her ears breaking off the beginnings of her prayer.

Grace bowed her head as Mac dropped into the pew beside her. His well built frame was a reassuring presence beside her as they both sat there in silence, hands resting in their laps. She had no words to express how grateful she was for him being here, for rescuing Don and bringing him back to her. His hand stretched across the distance between them, his steady fingers curling around hers as his inviting palm warmed her cold hand.

"Now just seemed like the right time to get in touch with God again." Grace admitted, squeezing his hand as she spoke with a with a twinge of bitterness. "Don's in surgery, they've had to do a blood transfusion because apparently most of it's on the floor of the abattoir Maplin kept him in."

It was painful to experience such a harrowing rush of emotions. They tumbled over her all at once stealing her breath and prickling at her soul like a thousand tiny needles. The grief was crushing and Grace thought it shouldn't be, it shouldn't feel this way. She was relieved that he was alive but at the same time she had seen the damaged, broken man hiding behind his eyes when he'd gripped her hand in the ambulance.

His tormented blue eyes had been locked on hers the entire way through the ride. Grace didn't know what he had been seeing but he seemed comforted by her presence. He'd barely made a noise when they stripped the wind breaker from his battered body. The blood was everywhere, smeared across his chest, running from fleshy rivets of exposed muscle. It was a patchwork, she had never seen anything like it outside of a photograph.

It was the burn that scarred his heart that made her throat ache and her chest constrict. The skin was raw and blackened in the area surrounding it, it was already starting to blister. Second degree, she guessed. Don was in whole lotta pain.

His eyes were flickering closed as she shifted her gaze so they were starring into each other's souls all over again.

"It's bad." Don hissed as the paramedic began to clean away the blood.

"Your ok." she whispered as he squeezed her hand weakly. "I promise your gonna be ok."

"Your here." he stated as a matter of fact, his voice breaking. "You always take care of me."

"Always." she murmured, her fingertips brushing away the dark hair that was plastered to his forehead. "That's what a wife is for."

"I'm glad he's dead."Grace said quietly, bowing her head so her hair fell across her pale features as she focused on Mac's hand. "I know that should make me a terrible person but what he did to Don... It's unforgivable."

"I won't pretend to have the answers." Mac told her, his tone was low and kind as he tried to explain. "Maplin was Don's white whale like in the book Moby Dick, Maplin used it against him. Don was the challenge he never got from Laura Mathews."

"Why did this happen?" Grace questioned, raking both of her hands through her dark hair. "We were happy."

"You'll be happy again." Mac reassured her confidently. "You, Don and the baby boy or girl you have inside you."

Mac's faith in them was commendable, it filled her up with a knowledge and a strength she didn't know she possessed. She'd spent the last few hours pitying Don and feeling sorry for herself over everything that had happened. She couldn't let it be like that any more. This was never about her in the first place, this was about Don and the love and care that he needed from her right now despite the fact she was pregnant. Extracting a balance like this was precarious, there were three of them now and there were two people she was responsible for. Although that weighed heavily upon her shoulders, she knew she wasn't alone in this matter.

Even now as she sat in this tiny chapel alongside Mac, Grace knew she wasn't the only one supporting her husband. The majority of the team were sitting in the waiting room just beyond those doors eagerly awaiting news of their friend from the O.R. Donald was seated with them, the last time she'd seen them Danny and him had had their heads together discussing something.

Her own parents were helping in their own way. Her father has taken it upon himself to change the locks on their apartment door in case Maplin had passed along the key to any other undesirables. Even thought the scenario was unlikely she appreciated the peace of mind it would give her to know that that wasn't a possibility.

Adam had unfortunately ratted her out to her mother that she hadn't been taking care of herself and the woman was now out buying all manner of God knows what. Her mother was a force of nature and nothing would get between her and making sure her family were well catered for.

"Just be there, let him know you love him and what happened doesn't change that." Mac advised softly. "It's important that you show that to him. It's not going to be easy but your not on your own. You've got your family and your friends."

"Thank you." Grace whispered.


Don was sleeping, Grace had always adored the peaceful expression upon his face as he slept. Today nothing had changed despite the bruising that marred his handsome features. He was still the man she loved and there wasn't anyway she'd let that change, especially not now. His fingers were wrapped around her hand clutching onto it tightly. He'd woken up briefly, moaning and seeking her out with weak fingertips. Grace had clasped his hand in hers and Don had settled once again.

Seeing Don like this took her back over four years now, to a similar time when there had been very little hope and the two of them had been living on prayers. A hope and a dream, Don has proclaimed once.

Their baby was content now, peaceful even. It had quietened down from it's irritable anxious state. She didn't know how she knew that but she was certain she was right. Maybe her own mother had been right about the natural instincts she thought. Becoming a mom was so different to what she had imagined but in the few short days she had known she was a parent she felt she'd become tuned to her baby's feelings. The two of them had some sort of understanding at least.

Don's body was laid out in front of her the same way it had been the first time she'd seen him in the hospital. His skin was flushed from the blood transfusion, his chest was bandaged over the gauze that covered up every single one of his wounds. There would be scars, the doctor had told her. Scars was something that Grace could deal with. No internal organs had been nicked during Maplin's brutality, she assumed that that was intentional. Maplin drawing out the torture, making it last.

It was the pain medications and the sedatives that were making him sleep and Grace was thankful for that. The burns were second degree, seared into his chest with a curling iron. Second degree burns hurt like the fires of hell. It was his thigh that had been the cause for concern, the knife had sliced through the muscle in his leg and severed a tendon.

Although the surgeon had repaired the tendon, it would be weeks until they would discover the true extent of the damage caused by the injury. Don's mobility could be altered for the remainder of his life and that threw up all sorts of implications regarding his job.

One step at a time... his father's words were echoing through her ears.

Grace brought Don's hand to her lips caressing the space just below his bloody, bandaged wrists gently.

One step at a time.

Chapter 60

Summary:

Don makes a tough choice.

Chapter Text

Don was quiet, but then again Grace was used to that these days. It had been over a eight weeks since the attack and in that time since leaving the hospital he had barely spoken more than two words to her. Grace understood it, Jesus she did but she had no idea how to combat it. He wouldn't let her touch him. Every time she wrapped her arms around his waist or placed a hand on his back or arm he would discreetly recoil.

They had barely slept together in the fortnight he had been home. The baby was sapping at Grace's energy like never before so she slept frequently and deeply whilst Don stayed up watching T.V. She would find him asleep on the couch in the early hours of the morning tangled up in the spare blankets. It had become an unspoken arrangement between them, one that Grace despised. Even on the night she tried to stay up with him, she would always find herself tucked up in bed alone.

Every day brought a similar kind of loneliness. When Grace would return home from work Don would be absent from the apartment. She had no idea where he was or what he did and when she asked he wasn't forthcoming with his answers. His physiotherapy sessions were usually in the morning so she really didn't have a clue what he did during the day. Every time she tried to engage him in conversation he would shake her off irritably.

Grace understood that he was frustrated, the cane that he walked with placed a large part of that building rage. Sometimes she could see it lurking behind his eyes when his gaze flickered towards it. He hated using it but it was necessary. The tendons in his thigh were still healing and in order to return to work he needed to be in peak condition. Underneath his cool exterior she knew he had to be worried about the direction his career may take. Don wasn't suited for a desk job, he enjoyed the puzzles and the thrill of the case, to chain him to a desk would be suicide. She couldn't imagine anything worse.

On a purely selfish level Grace didn't know how much more she could take of his inability to reconnect. She craved his touch at every single turn, she wanted to lay her hands on him and hold him more than anything in the world. Yet after the first few times Don had withdrawn from her it had become awkward so Grace had stopped herself reaching out because she couldn't stand to see the pained expression that clouded his features.

There was an absence in her chest and Grace hated it, it left her vulnerable and open to all sorts of creeping doubts. Grace had no idea how to bridge the void between them and she found it hard to talk to their friends about it at the risk of sounding self orientated and clingy.

The sound of his movements in front of the draining board of their kitchen snapped her from her thoughts as he dried the dishes. He still cooked and cleaned but she thought that was more about habit and routine as opposed to desire or urges. Even as she watched his movements she could see that they were mechanical, there was no thought or purpose to them. Don was simply going through the motions.

Grace wondered how long they could go on like this. They weren't a couple any more and this was not a relationship, this was simply two people existing in the same space. There was no intimacy between them, they didn't even get changed in the same room, which was more Don's preference as opposed to hers.

What had happened to him was beyond traumatic and had affected him in ways even she struggled to come to terms with. It was impossible for her to even begin to imagine what he had been through but there were other things at play here and the elephant was still in the room stretching between them. Neither of them had mentioned the baby since Don had returned home and Grace had been fighting every single impulse to bring it up.

The truth was she was scared of what would happen when she did. She didn't want to overwhelm him with more responsibility. His focus should be on getting better and although this baby was something she felt the two of them should be sharing, she couldn't bring herself to push him. She wasn't sure of his limits any more, the boundaries were different.

The prospect of enduring this pregnancy alone unnerved her. Grace had been comforted and reassured in the beginning, Don's support had given her a strength to believe in herself, to believe that she would make an excellent parent and that their child would be well loved and nurtured. Without him she had no idea of the kind of mother it would end up with.

Which was why she had to try to get through to him, this baby was theirs and right now she felt like she was raising it on her own. It was selfish but Grace needed something from Don, she needed to know that there was still a piece of him behind this distant absent man.

Her arms looped through his firm stronger muscles, her hands came to rest lightly on his stomach. She was careful not to touch any of his growing scars for fear of hurting him. The cuts and the burns were still raw and painful despite the fact they were healing. Don's entire body went rigid underneath her fingertips, his back straightened as Grace's cheek came to rest upon his shoulder. They stayed like that for a moment, Grace waited for him to relax into her embrace the same way he used to but that never happened.

This was usually the point Grace would have relented, she would have slinked away back to the couch as if nothing had happened where she would flick through baby books alone.

"Can you stop that?" she requested quietly. "I need to talk to you for a second."

Don rose his vivid blue eyes skywards before setting down the plate he was drying and placing his palms flat on the work surface as she clutched him from behind. He could feel the desperation wrought in her body as she held on for dear life.

"I get why your being like this." she whispered, he could feel her mouth heating up his skin through his shirt as she spoke. "But I need you right now. I just need to know that there's some part of you still here with me."

Don's shoulders sagged at her words. She was right of course, he had been cold and vacant over the past weeks. He couldn't associate with her in the same way that he used to, he couldn't bring himself to reach out and touch her, to dirty her with Maplin's legacy to him. He was so frighteningly ashamed of what happened to him, of the scars upon his body.

The cane was a constant reminder that he couldn't shake the taint of the sadist off of him. Don never allowed her to see his emotional side, he couldn't let it out of the tight cage that he had created for it. He wouldn't let her see the rages or the tantrums, Danny or Angell were the only ones that knew the weight of his full experience. Danny had been in the changing rooms when he'd had his furious fit of anger, he'd kicked a trash can across the room with his good leg after physiotherapy and punched a sizeable hole in the plaster.

He wasn't getting better, his leg was still weak and his dreams were still full of violence. He hadn't slept a full night since the attack, he barely had comprehensible thoughts any more. The frustration that mounted up inside him was almost as excruciating as the physical pain.

"I'm trying." was all he could bring himself to say.

He felt the well of breath expel out of her chest as she tried to hide her sigh of disappointment. He had never expected that emotion from her and it hurt him in a way he could never explain. Patience was a virtue she was blessed with and now it appeared after two weeks she was finally running out of it and Don couldn't say he blamed her.

She doesn't know... he reminded himself.

He had long suspected that this was more than just trauma. This was different to how he'd felt after the explosion, rehab had been a bastard back then but he had been getting better. He had felt that every time. His mind was damaged, he could feel the fractures getting larger as the pressure continued to build and grow over each day. The intolerable hurt and fury was only drowned out by the numbness he forced himself to trap it under. He couldn't take the risk of exploding, Grace had been through too much already to be subject to the violence that pulsed through his veins.

The numbness was the only thing keeping him sane and at the same time it oppressed him. It stifled all of his emotions and disrupted their connection. His soul was ravaged and shredded to pieces, there was nothing left to hold onto. He couldn't bring himself to feel anything for his wife and child any more.

Grace withdrew from him as he bowed his head. Her arms wrapped around her abdomen, hugging the baby for comfort. It was just the two of them now and she had to be strong for it.

"I'm going to bed." she told him quietly.

"I'm gonna stay up and watch some TV." he said without sparing her a glance.

He heard the bedroom door shut a few seconds later.


The baby had been running her through the mill these past few mornings. Morning sickness always started at some point after six am, she had spent the past fifteen minutes throwing her guts up into the toilet.

Milk usually helped settle her stomach after an endurance like that so she had padded her way into the kitchen to retrieve a glass before going back to bed. She was clad only in one of Don's button up shirts, the white sleeves rolled up to her elbows. It was stupid that she had taken to wearing his clothing in order to feel close to him. It was the only connection that existed between the two of them at the moment.

Grace paused, hearing his groaning from the kitchen as she opened up the fridge before closing it again. She approached the couch as he mumbled and thrashed fighting the blankets tangled within his limbs.

After Kade, she had woken up many nights with him tossing and turning beside but this was different. Whatever Don was dreaming about was horrific, she had never heard the noises that were coming from his mouth before. His movements had never been so violent and strained.

Grace reached out a hand laying it upon his wrist as she shook him lightly.

"Don, come on wake up." she urged him tenderly, like a child.

His head jerked from side to side, his eyes were screwed up tightly as he ground his teeth together. Grace's finger wrapped around his healing wrist as she shake him even harder as she spoke more firmly.

"Don, your having a nightmare..."

His fist came out of nowhere, balled up and vengeful as he lashed out catching Grace straight in the face. Her head reeled backwards, her hand clasped her nose as the back of her knees hit the coffee table behind her. Her ass came to land on it with a thud as pain exploded in her sinuses. Blood flowed through her fingers as Don bolted awake. Her eyes were stinging like hell as he turned his head towards her, his body sheeted with sweat as he panted. His heart was thudding against his ribs almost painfully as he turned his head towards his quivering wife.

"Grace?" he questioned in a low tone, trying to put the situation into context.

Grace shrank away, her free hand spreading protectively over her stomach in instinct. Don froze in place as he took in the blood gushing from her face, staining the front of his shirt that she was wearing.

"Did I..." he trailed off, his throat going dry at the prospect as he rubbed the back of his hand across his dry lips.

Her grey eyes were wide with shock as she met his gaze. There was fear there, it was unmistakable and it made him hate himself. Don struggled to stand up, he used the couch to stabilise his balance before he limped towards the kitchen awkwardly. Don snatched up a clean tea towel and ran it under the cold tap before wringing it out between his strong hands. His mind was running a mile a minute as he stumbled over the facts. She was scared and he didn't blame her. This was the first step and he loathed what he was becoming.

Don handed Grace the tea towel which she took from him wearily before pressing it to her nose. Don slumped down across from her on the couch, his hands raking through his dark hair almost painfully as she watched his movements. He knew what she was looking for, experience had taught her to study body language in order to gauge the next outburst.

The silence stretched between them as Don clasped his hands together. He swallowed hard past the aching lump in his throat. He couldn't bring himself to look at her again as he stared at the silver wedding band upon his finger.

"I need help." he said finally into the air. "Being here is not helping, I'm not coping. I can't feel anything and when I do I can't control it. I don't trust myself around you or the baby."

"What are you saying?" she asked him softly, her eyebrows curving into a frown.

"I need to leave." he told her straight, rubbing his palms together.

"Don..." she trailed off.

Grace's shoulders sagged in defeat as he rose to his feet yet again, this time grasping the black cane propped up against the arm of the couch to support his weak leg.

"I'm going to get some of my things from the bedroom and then I'll go." he told her heading into the bedroom slowly without the merest hesitation.

Grace didn't know how long it took him, she felt like she was suspended in her own insane nightmare as she clutched the wet table cloth to her face, stemming the bleeding from her nose.

Don never said goodbye, he simply closed the apartment door behind him as he left.

Chapter 61

Summary:

Don contemplates ending it all...

Chapter Text

There was blood on his hands, they were shaking as Don stared at them, turning his hands palms upwards as it ran down his fingertips. He remembered being surprised by how hot his own life force felt and now he was stunned all over again as it stained his skin vivid red. It was down the front of his shirt spreading faster over the open patches of skin that were branded and etched upon his flesh.

Laura was lying there before him flat on her back. Her head tilted at that odd broken angle that could only be imitated by corpses. Her body was twisted and bleeding, hands splayed out in the same way they had been in the morgue when he her. Her hazel eyes were glaringly open as he knelt before her immobile form.

There were cuts and burn scars all over her curvy freckled body. The brutal, seared marks mirrored the ones beaten into his own ruined flesh. He'd seen it a million times over in his own mirror but the view never failed to surprise him. The left side of her mouth where her scar should have been was torn open. Blood seeped from the wound leaking onto the concrete underneath them, he could see the flash of her teeth and gumline through the hole that Maplin had stretched up towards her cheekbone. He had a tiny scar on the corner of his own mouth from where the same had almost happened to him.

"I'm sorry." he murmured mournfully. "I am so sorry."

"He killed me." Laura said dully, her voice was a rasp that hissed through the gap at the side of her mouth.

"I know, I'm sorry." Don told her sincerely.

"He's killing you." Laura wheezed.

"I survived." Don retorted.

The corpse shook it's head and immediately he knew that her words were true. He kept telling everybody he was a survivor but it wasn't true. He was Maplin's victim as much as Laura had been, the only difference was that right now he wasn't brave enough to eat his own gun yet.

"He's killing you." she repeated.

Suddenly Laura was gone and he was back in the abattoir on his knees in front of Maplin's hulking form, the other man's hand was clenched around his throat. His fingers were locked on Don's windpipe, shaking the air right out of him as he bore down upon him.

"This is where you belong." the grizzled man told him, squeezing even tighter. "Your mine Detective, I'll never let you leave."

Don had woken up screaming hoarsely, his chest heaving as his breathes came in long drawn out gasps. The familiar white sheets had been twisted up around his body. His heart had been pounding against his ribs, his large hands reaching out for Grace before remembering that he wasn't at home.

Now Don was sitting downstairs in the cosy kitchen of his parent's house nursing a glass of milk before tearing open a pack of chocolate chip cookies. His vivid blue eyes were resting on the Glock laid out in front of him. His gun was beckoning to him as it had been for the past few days. Every time he had that nightmare he found himself sitting on the edge of the bed with his gun in his hand.

It always fit back in his hand like an extension of himself. The night before he had pressed the cool metal barrel against his temple and listened to the empty click as he pulled the trigger. He'd left the clip on top of the night stand, he had just wanted to see if he had the guts to do it and the truth frightened him because the answer was yes.

Don heard slow footsteps on the stairs followed quietly by the shuffle of his father's cane. He didn't make a move to hide the weapon on the dining table as Donald Snr appeared in the doorway. He was clad in navy blue stripped pyjamas, a tartan night gown wrapped around his ageing body. Don didn't know what to do or how to explain the darkness that was creeping into the edges of his soul. It was stifling him so badly he found it hard to breathe some days.

"Can't sleep?" Donald asked sitting down across from his son, his wrinkled fingers coming to rest on the grip of the gun as he weighed it in his palm.

It was loaded and that scared Donald more than he cared to admit. Yet he knew that blowing up would simply make things worse. The more pressure Don felt like he was under the more likely he was to snap. He recognized when Don was at breaking point. Just one shove in the right direction and he'd be burying his son not long from now and Donald would do anything to stop that from happening.

"We used to do this when you were a kid." Donald chimed, setting the gun back down before picking up a cookie from the pack and chomping on it as he reviewed his son.

"I remember." Don said, wrapping his hands around the cold glass, still half full with milk. "You used to sit up with me when I had bad dreams."

"Isn't that what we're doing now?" Donald asked him light heartedly.

Don raked his fingers through his fine dark hair exasperated. He had been beating himself up for weeks, the guilt was pressing down on him. It had been like this before when Grace was shot, the same destructive numbness was chewing him up inside. He couldn't feel anything, he didn't have any empathy for his wife or child and he knew that was wrong, yet he simply couldn't bring himself to care any more.

It couldn't go on like this, Maplin was haunting him like a god damned ghost. There wasn't a chance in hell he could fight this on his own, it was too much. There was so much emotional stigma that went along with what he'd been through, it was traumatising. It was hard to believe that Maplin was dead when he still held so much power over Don. It was like a barb underneath his skin, prickling and scratching at his nerves.

"He's in my head all of the time, in my dreams. I can't shake him. It's like he has me all over again and I want to kill him. I want to wrap my hands around his throat and murder him but he's gone and there's nothing left to be mad at but I am so angry all of the time." Don found himself telling his father. "After what happened with Grace, I just don't trust myself."

"There's no shame in getting a little help son." Donald said carefully as his son's vivid blue eyes met his own. "Something like this is too big to handle all on your own. People like that they worm their way into your brain. It's like an infestation breaks out and you lose control. This isn't you Don, you need to talk about it and work it out."

"Your suggesting a shrink?" Don questioned almost angrily.

"I'm suggesting you do the right thing for yourself. Your slipping Don. I can't stand the idea of you doing something stupid like putting a bullet in your brain. You have a wife and child depending on you. Your letting Maplin win and I know that's not who you are. Your stronger than this, you have to fight him." Donald told his son firmly.

"I did fight Pops, I'm fighting against everything he did to me whenever I look in the mirror." Don informed him.

"I know son, believe me I do." Donald sympathised. "The point is you've got to try harder, if you let it drag you down your not going to survive this. Your a survivor Don, there's no shame in talking about what happened. Isolating yourself isn't going to help."

Don rubbed his hands over his exhausted features, taking in his father's words. They were filtering through to his brain and he understood he was a crossroads. It was an uphill battle and it was bound to get worse before it got better. His gaze lingered on the Glock still held captive underneath his father's hand.

"I need you to take care of that for a while." Don told him, making sure that his father understood the intention behind his words.

"Whatever you need Don." his father said as he disconnected the clip from the weapon and slipped it into the front pocket of his dressing gown.

"There's no need to tell your mother about this." Donald said quietly, pushing the empty Glock towards Don with tentative fingertips.

"No reason at all." Don agreed.


The apartment wasn't the same with Don gone. It was a lonely, empty place where Grace came to sleep and change her clothes. He had been there once again while she was away at work, some of his shirts and underwear were missing.

Over the past month Grace had barely seen him. He had been a ghost ever since the attack. They had had no contact since he had left her, she was giving him his space just as he had requested yet it was weighing on her badly. Grace was over five months pregnant and she could feel the pitter patter of what felt like tiny butterflies in her stomach every now and then. It was the baby moving around inside her abdomen. Already she was beginning to show, when she looked in the mirror she could see the beginnings of a baby bump starting to form. Grace was more aware of this child now, she had started to view it as a person, it was a tiny life form living and breathing inside of her and she could feel it's soul growing.

It was frightening and exciting all at the same time. Experiencing this for the first time in her life was overwhelming. She had no idea what the hell to expect, when she first felt those flutterings in her stomach she had been unnerved and alarmed. Now it made her smile to feel the baby's movements, it created a bond that was so precious it had brought tears to her eyes at the thought that that Don may never share this with her. She had sat on their bed for hours smoothing her hand over the bump as her insides tickled and danced inside her.

The morning sickness had died down thankfully, she still got the brief moments of queasiness but now she could actually eat before work. Her appetite had grown even more in the passing weeks as had the insanity of her cravings.

Grace was lying in their bed on her side as she studied the black and white sonogram picture clasped tightly between her fingers. Her fingertips ran over the shape of their baby as she caressed it's facial features. It was stunning to see the outline of it, it made it all the more realistic. The two of them were having a baby, or rather she was. Over the past few weeks she was starting to feel more and more like she was destined to be a single mother.

"It looks more like a jelly bean than a baby." Grace remarked out loud, tilting the picture so Beth could see it.

Beth was lying on the opposite side of the bed in her short pyjamas, book propped up against her knees as she twisted her head towards the picture. A grin was breaking out upon her features as she studied the image intently.

"It's beautiful." Beth complimented.

Beth had been staying over periodically between her relationship with Adam and her job taking her away on various cases. It had been the first week since Don had left since Grace had been able to get more than a couple of hours sleep.

"Adam said he didn't turn up today." Beth approached the subject as lightly as she could.

Grace shook her head as her grey eyes came to rest on the picture of her baby once again.

"No, it was just me." she responded, her voice dropping just an octave betraying the hurt she had been stifling.

"Have you spoken to him?" Beth asked him.

"No." Grace whispered, placing the sonogram picture underneath her pillow. "If he doesn't want anything to do with this baby then that's ok."

"He's hurting." Beth offered softly as Grace settled again on the pillow beside her, her cheek pressed into it.

"I know." Grace murmured.

"You should talk to him." Beth said quietly.

Grace screwed her eyes closed against the pain and the fear that was burning in her chest. She was frightened about what he would say. The fact he hadn't come to the sonogram pretty much said it all.

"I think I'm losing him and I have no way to bring him back." Grace said sadly. "I'm scared this is his way of calling it quits."

"It takes time." Beth disclosed, speaking from experience. "What he went through, it takes a long time to come to terms with."

"I don't have a lot of time." Grace reminded her. "I have barely four months until this baby is here and my doctors already told me to cut down on the stress before it starts causing me more problems. I can't lose this baby too Beth."

"This baby is lucky to have you." Beth said softly, snuggling down under the sheets beside Grace.

"I think I'm going to start the nursery this weekend before I get too big to do anything." Grace mumbled as fatigue began to claim her once more.

"We'll make a list." Beth assured her. "I'll help and so will the others. Your not on your own in this."

Beth took Grace's hand tightly in her own as they lay face to face upon the pillows.

"That's what friends are for." she told the other woman.

Chapter 62

Summary:

Danny tells Grace the truth about Don.

Chapter Text

The Crime Labs were eerily quiet and devoid of criminalists. Grace had never realized how silent and lonesome this place became when you were restricted to it. Their case loads as of late had been light. Grace was spending her days going over trial notes for her court dates that were coming up instead of analysing evidence.

She hated the days like this. It gave her too much time to think on the state of her marriage and the sham that it was becoming. People asked after Don regularly, it ate at her that she couldn't answer their questions. By now her co-workers knew that the two of them were temporarily separated, she could see the pitying look in their gaze as they flickered towards her through the glass panes. It was no secret that she was pregnant, that one had been blown wide open when Don was taken and the contents of their SUV had been passed around the lab in a bid to find him and of course now she was showing.

Grace's fingers grasped the snack sized bag of carrot sticks she had been craving recently from the fridge along with the tub of butter cream she had whipped up last night after making cupcakes. Of all the cravings she had had recently this was the most insane. It had started at stupid o'clock this morning and continued through out the day.

"That's one bizarre combination." Don stated from the doorway as he closed the door to the break room firmly behind him.

Grace tilted her head up towards him as she crunched a carrot stick lathered in butter cream between her teeth. She felt her temper spike as her hormones rushed through her body. There was fury deep within her, it pulsed and raged as she laid her blazing grey eyes upon him. Her hand slid inside the back pocket of her trousers withdrawing a thin photocopy.

"Cravings started a few days ago." she told Don, slapping the sonogram of their baby into his palm. "We're fine by the way."

"Grace..." he began, staring at the image as he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

"You didn't come." Grace accused, overwhelmed by the well of feelings boiled over inside her body. "I waited for you, I thought you would come so we could both see an image of this baby but you never showed."

"I couldn't handle it." Don told her, meeting her furious gaze head on. "I won't lie to you Grace, I don't think I can do this any more. I don't want this."

"What?" she uttered incredulously, her hands on her hips.

"What happened changed me Grace and I don't understand why the two of us ever thought that bringing a child into a world like this was a good idea." Don snapped.

He knew from the moment the words actually penetrated her hearing that it was like throwing a stick of dynamite down a mine shaft and watching it explode. Her mouth hung open sucking in a deep breath as her eyes narrowed and her small fists clenched.

"What the fuck Don?" Grace practically screamed at him. "You want me to get rid of this baby? Is that what you want? It's too late to change your mind now Don."

Even as she spoke Don knew that he was getting nowhere, that there wasn't a hope in hell that his wife would have gotten rid of this baby. They were Catholic, they didn't believe in abortion anyway. He knew she was past the point of no return since she was almost six months pregnant. His therapist said these feelings were normal, that he was frightened of the full on commitment this baby would bring coupled with his own emotional trauma.

The reason he was lashing out so badly was because he was bottling everything up and his support network was fractured. In a normal circumstance he would have told Grace everything, he would have buried himself in her and this plague of darkness would never have had the chance to immerse him.

It was there again and he was struggling with the impatient anger that seemed to jab at him intermittently. This was an impossible situation and the things he heard himself saying were truly unforgivable. Don could feel the surge of frustration blossoming in his chest and burning at his synapses as he turned his own temper upon her without restraint.

"I want you to be my wife again" he erupted, scrunching up the paper in his hand. "I want you to support me. I want to know that I can lean on when the chips are down instead of worrying about stressing you out. The old Grace would know what I am going through, she would care about me. This Grace is selfish. All your thinking about is that baby, but what about me Grace? Where the hell am I in your list of priories?"

Grace couldn't speak, her throat was constricting painfully as she tried to swallow past the lump in it. They stood starring at each other for the longest time, Don's bright blue eyes were full of venom as he glared at his wife. His jaw was tensed, Grace could see the muscle in his cheek twitching as she twisted her head away from him. There were tears glistening in her eyes that she didn't want him to see. The gesture came off as cold, cruel even to him. His hand was already turning the door handle.

"That says it all doesn't it." Don snarled before tossing the screwed up sonogram back to her. "Your on your own."


Thud.

It was the noise that the tennis ball was making every time Grace threw it at the the solid concrete wall in her office, catching it as it bounced back at her. She was seated in her roller chair with the back to her desk as she pelted it as hard as she could in a bid to ease out her frustrations as she played through the argument in her head.

He'd gotten her knocked up in the first place, he had wanted this baby as much as she had. Jesus, she knew he was going through something terrible but she barely had it in her right now to even contemplate forgiving him.

Before the baby she would have headed to the gym and beaten the living crap out of a punching bag but being pregnant changed that. Sheldon had given her the tennis ball instead to ease any stress that she was under after she'd told him about her last doctor's appointment.

The baby bristled uneasily inside her, she could tell it was sensing her distress even though she had tried to shield it from her torrent of emotions. She heard the door to her and Danny's joint office open behind her. The only person that entered without knocking was Danny, she listened as he closed the door behind him before turning around to face him.

He knew, she could tell by the expression on his facial features as his cornflower blue eyes fixed on her. His lips were set in a grim, thin line as he crossed his arms over his chest. Grace bit her lower lip, exhaling deeply as she shook her head.

"He doesn't want this baby." she told him, her heart breaking even more as she said those words out loud.

Grace's hands came to rest upon her slightly swollen stomach trying to sooth the baby writhing around inside her.

Don't worry. She communicated to it silently. I still love you.

"It scares him what he did to you." Danny stated as a matter of fact.

"It was an accident." Grace informed him. "He was having a nightmare."

"It's tearing him up inside, if he's lashing out at you what stops him knocking ten tons of crap out of a baby when it cries too much?" Danny tried to explain the depth of his friend's fears.

Before Maplin this would never have been an option, he would never have had to intervene. It killed him to play the piggy in the middle between the two of them but they needed a little intervention. Each of them had drawn a battle line and now they were trapped in a bloody stalemate with a baby on the way.

"There's more isn't there?" Grace said softly as something slipped into place like a jigsaw piece. "There's something he's not telling me."

Danny raised his eyes skywards muttering an oath as he tipped his head back. He hadn't foreseen this, he had never imagined things between Flack and Grace balancing so perilously. It shook him up seeing the two of them in a state of disarray. He felt like a little kid wrought with apprehension as he watched mom and dad fight.

"Danny?" Grace questioned, her voice trembling just a little. "Your scaring me."

Danny cleared his throat as he leaned back against the wall resigned.

"Don has PTSD. He's been getting treatment for it over the past month." he said quietly.

Grace rubbed her hands over her face wearily as the words sank into her brain. The puzzle came together as if someone had lifted a curtain upon the final piece. Everything made sense when you out those words into the mix. The outbursts, the violence, the nightmares. The world was a dark place at the best of times but PTSD made Don's ordeal a hell of a lot worse. He was reliving what he went through everyday and he had been hiding it from her.

"Post traumatic stress disorder." she repeated, peering at Danny through her slender fingers. "How did I miss that?"

Danny dropped down into his own roller chair, clasping his hands as if in silent prayer.

"You've been preoccupied with the baby. After that night when he hit you, it killed him that it happened even though it was accidental. He'd been hiding it for weeks outside of the apartment because he didn't wanna bring it home to you. His nightmares were getting worse so he started sleeping on the couch." Danny sighed as he met her woeful gaze. "It took a lot of guts for him to come here today, what he said was out of order but it was never his intention to say those things. His temper got the better of him and I know that's not an excuse but I wanted you to know that he is getting help and there is a reason for his behaviour."

Grace wrapped her arms around herself hugging the baby even closer.

"How could I be so selfish?" Grace asked herself quietly. "Somewhere along the way I stopped seeing him as my husband and he became a threat to my baby."

"It's his baby too." Danny reminded her with a pointed look. "And if we're honest at the time you had a reason to see him like that but seriously Grace you need to learn to let go. He needs you by his side, holding his hand otherwise I don't see this story having a very happy ending."

In her heart Grace could feel the truth in Danny Messer's words and she had no idea what on earth to do about it.

Chapter 63

Summary:

Don and Grace have a heart to heart.

Chapter Text

Don was sitting on the wooden back porch he'd helped his father construct in his early twenties. They had made a project out of it on the weekends when he was free. The varnished decking gave him a bird's eye view of the plush, green, large garden in which he'd spent his childhood playing in. The swing set was still erected and kept in excellent condition. His mother and father had been awaiting grand kids for a long time and now he was risking the two missing out on it's life. Don knew that Grace would never do that, even if he had no involvement with that child she would make sure it had contact with it's grandparents.

He nursing a can of coke in his large hand as he stared out across his father's back garden. This was a great place for a kid to grow up and run around in. Don pursed his lips together, clenching the empty aluminium can. He longed for a drink, a cold beer to rinse down all the hurt and the fear that ate him up inside but he had sworn himself sober when he'd started taking the medication to help beat the PTSD.

Don flicked his phone open once again, Grace's number was already on his display screen. All it would take is a simple push of the connect button and the two of them could talk again. He could apologise and smooth things over for being so thick headed and spiteful. The truth was he didn't have the guts to reach out to her again, not after what had happened back in the crime lab. He was disappointed in himself for letting his temper get the best of him. He had never meant to hurt Grace or their baby, the words were up and out of his mouth before he'd had the chance to stop himself.

He shouldn't have said such a horrible thing, but there had been an element of truth in his words. He had been cold and withdrawn over the past months but she has been selfish and he understood why. Their baby was her priority, he was supposed to be supporting her but he couldn't right now. Hell, he needed his own support. He was finding it hard to function without her in his corner.

No matter what happened Don missed her. He missed the way she felt curled up in his arms at night when he buried his face in her. He hadn't touched her in an age and he craved it, he needed the comfort her physical being gave him, her reassurances. Above all he needed her belief that he could get over this, that Maplin wasn't going to win.

Don could smell the scent of her floral perfume on the wind and closed his eyes at the fact his imagination was running wild. Grace's hand enclosed on his firm shoulder, her thumb caressed lightly over the knots in his shoulder massaging it tenderly before she came to sit down beside him. Don opened his eyes to find his wife sitting down beside him. Grace still looked the same as she had this morning. Her dark hair was clipped back away from her face with a gold pelican grip. She was wearing an olive green wrap around top with a black waist coat left open over her shirt and black fitted trousers. Her stomach was rounded against the shirt, showing a baby bump.

"I think the two of us should talk." Grace said quietly, rubbing her hands together back and forth.

"I've been thinking about calling you." Don told her, tucking his cellphone into the front pocket of his jeans.

"Don, I know." Grace began tilting her head so she could read the profile of his handsome face. "I know you have PTSD."

Don bowed his head as he exhaled, clasping his fingers together as he shifted uncomfortably. He hadn't grown used to talking about his condition, there was a stigma that came with mental illness. He was frightened it would taint everything it touched, his career, his home life. It was already stealing his soul out from underneath him. He needed Grace to return it to him, to bring him back even from the brink he was standing on.

"You never think it'll happen to you." he said into the open night time air as he stared at the swing set illuminated in the distance. "That bastard really did a number on me."

Grace's arm slipped underneath his, separating his hands so she could entwine her slender fingers with his. Their connection hummed to life at the briefest touch. Don breathed a sigh of relief at the familiar sensation of it filling his frozen insides up with it's heat. For the first time in a long time he thought he was starting to feel again.

"I'm sorry." she said as she squeezed his hand lightly. "I was selfish. You were right. You should have been able to lean on me."

Don shook his head in response to her words. The need to explain was burning brightly within him for the first time. He wanted her to understand why he had left, that it wasn't her fault.

"I was going crazy, being at home with you..." Don trailed off, swallowing hard. "I was becoming more violent outside of the apartment because I was hiding everything, trying to shield you away from it. You didn't need to the pressure and I didn't want you to experience anything like what Hamlin did to you. I feel so bitterly ashamed about hurting you and what I said this morning."

"Your hurting deep inside." Grace recounted. "And I wasn't there, I should have been Don and I'm sorry about that."

"Your here now." Don replied, tilting his head towards her so he could stare into that stunning grey gaze.

"Whenever you need me to be." she whispered, reaching out as their heads bent even closer.

Her fingertips trailed along the line of his finely stubbled jaw. Don closed his eyes as his entire body trembled at her light touch, her thumb smoothed over the shape of his lips with a tenderness he knew that only he was privy to. That touch said everything that they couldn't say with words.

I missed you, I love you. I'm here for you.

The depths of their emotions were played out in every single impulsive movement. Don heard his own intake of breath as Grace's nose traced along the line of his own gently until their lips were only inches apart. She hesitated, giving Don the chance to draw away if this was too much, too overwhelming. Instead he took his chance and kissed her.

Grace had never fallen as hard for someone as she did in that moment. She felt that deep rush of hopeless, desperate love claim her once more drowning out the agony that had been dragging her down over the past few months. His lips were soft as they caressed her own pouring every single emotion he had ever encompassed for her into that kiss. She was everything to him, she was his hope, his lifeline and with her by his side he could beat the PTSD. Grace made him feel stronger, she made it easier to cope, there was a future when she was around him.

"I love you so God damned much." he whispered against her lips.

Grace opened her eyes to find him staring intently into hers. There was a wealth of secrets buried deep within him and once she had known every single one. Now she was learning, rediscovering every inch of his heart, mind and soul all over again. He was hers still and that spoke volumes to her. It meant there was a chance of saving him, a possibility of her yanking him back from the edge of the cliff by his shirt tails.

"I'm here." she told him. "Forever and always."

Chapter 64

Summary:

Don helps Grace paint the nursery.

Chapter Text

The spare room was huge, Grace had never noticed how large it actually was until it was devoid of all of their belongings. She had spread plastic sheeting across the laminate flooring so none of the paint drops from the decorating binge would stain it. Previously the room had contained a mixture of what she had deemed as crap. Boxes from her old apartment she had never gotten around to unpacking thus didn't need, old forensics journals she would never flick back through. The only thing that hadn't been chucked was Don's ice hockey equipment for when he played in the yearly charity game against the FDNY.

Due to her condition Don hadn't allowed Grace to move anything that was heavier than a cereal box. He weighted and tested each item before handing it over to her, watching with expert eyes as she deposited it into bin bags which he in turn disposed of. Realistically his view of her fragility should have annoyed her but instead she found herself treasuring his protectiveness. It made up for the time they had spent fighting or ignoring each other since his attack.

It had been over a fortnight since the night they had smoothed things over back at his parents house and they had slipped back into a comfortable but yet cautious relationship much like when the two of them had first started dating. Don wasn't ready to move back yet and Grace fully supported him in that decision. She didn't want to exert too much pressure upon him, especially when he was just starting to climb out of that grave that Maplin had dug for him. Having him back in her life and on speaking terms was enough for her right now.

Over the past few weeks he had started to smile a lot more, she thought. There was genuine affection in his touch when he reached out and took her hand or when his fingers splayed across her lower back. They had been on a few dates away from his parents and the crime lab to places they had frequented once upon a time in their relationship. The café where they had bought the canollis after their wedding, the ice rink by the Rockefeller Center where they had spent the evening watching the skaters drift by, trying to spot the stars pinpricked in the sky.

These were the places where they had made their own good memories and there seemed to be something magical about the way that effected Don. Sometimes when he laughed, it was like watching him come to life again. He would never be the same and neither would she but they were changing together now, moving forward into a future that they were destined for. Grace had come accustomed to their nights ending with tender, sweet kisses. Each one became a little more intimate with every date they had.

Grace knew he wasn't teasing her on purpose, far from it in fact. Don was relearning her with every touch, kiss and caress that he blessed her body with. The only problem was that her pregnancy hormones were running beyond wild. Every time his bare skin brushed hers her pale skin would prickle with anticipation flashing up sense memories from their past endeavours. She knew that his skin would taste salty underneath her tongue as she licked and sucked him to attention. His flesh would be hot and unyielding as they melded together joining as one, his deep husky moan low in his throat as she took him deeper.

Cold showers had become almost customary after each date, Don was always careful never to let his guard down no matter how intense their making out seemed to become. He was the only one who had restraint but it was Grace that had the patience when he pulled away from her yet again. She understood even though he couldn't formulate the words to explain and instead curled up contently in his lap while they watched the T.V or a DVD.

Don had taken over fixing up the nursery this weekend in place of Adam. Beth had caught a rare weekend free from her travelling with the Behavioural Analysis Unit and apparently the young lab tech had something special planned. Grace thought she had an inkling from the web history she'd looked up after he had laptop unattended for a few moments to hit the bathroom. He'd been looking up Tiffany's from what she'd been able to see and Grace knew what those little blue boxes usually contained. She had barely been able to contain her excitement at the matter upon his return, the instant he'd looked at her gleeful expression he had known what she had had done and taken her to task for it. His telling off hadn't lasted long and they had instead spent the rest of the evening picking out just the right ring for Beth.

Grace dipped her tiny paintbrush into the little tin of beige paint that Don and her had selected earlier today in the DIY store. Grace was seated on the floor painting along the edge of the skirting board. Don was clad in scruffy jeans, torn at the knees due to scuffles with suspects that had ended badly for his clothing. Grace knew he had loved these jeans once upon a perp. She was wearing an old pair of sweats, all of her other trousers were bought new from the maternity stores. Their T-shirts were old and Grace was clad in Don's loose AC/DC T-shirt whilst Don was in something faceless and grey.

Don was humming out the tune to 'Living on a Prayer.' as he dunked the roller into the tray full of sunshine yellow paint and spread it across the fresh white wall in a thin layer.

"Knowing our luck this kid will grow up hating the colour yellow." he said out loud as he crouched down on his knees to move lower down the wall.

"So long as it doesn't get inappropriate piercings it can paint the room whatever colour it likes." Grace retorted with a small smile as she ran her finger along the masking tape on her wall to flatten it.

"Do not even joke about that." Don warned her, sneaking a glance at his wife over his shoulder.

Pregnant, she was still as stunning as ever. She was sitting on a cushion from the couch with her legs apart, her tongue peeking out the corner of her mouth as she frowned in concentration. Her stomach had filled out a little more giving the baby a more defined shape than he had seen before. His wife suited being pregnant, her skin was glowing with radiance as a content smile crossed her pretty features. His gaze softened as he caught sight of the beige paint smear across her right cheekbone.

"You have a little paint on you." Don said, coming to kneel between the V of Grace's legs.

She tilted her head up towards him, wrinkling her nose as his thumb descended on the blush of her cheek smoothing away the fleck of beige upon her delicate skin. Her eyes were on his as he leaned in even closer their lips barely inches apart. The tension in the air crackled between them as Don covered her mouth with his own tender and seeking. She tasted the same as always and he took refuge in that knowledge as she parted her lips allowing him deeper access to the confines of her mouth. Her noises were encouraging and greedy as her hands smoothed over the front of his T-shirt, rubbing at the broad muscles underneath.

Her body was alight with his brief touch as he kissed her mouth the same he would kiss her everywhere. Her flesh was prickling with anticipation as she devoured his mouth sinfully. It was impossible to explain how much she ached for him right now. Her fingers delved into the recesses of his shirt, her fingertips tracing the pattern of his ribs lightly.

Don's entire body went rigid at she brushed across one of his scars. He flinched as she curled her fingers away, disentangling her hands from his shirt. His own strong hands came to rest on her wrists lightly, his thumbs stroking across her pulse points lovingly as he pulled away from her sweet kisses.

"Don?" Grace asked gently as he released her hands.

His head was bowed in shame as he clenched and unclenched his fists until the knuckles went white. Grace reached up, her fingers skating across his clean shaven cheek as she cupped his face between her hands guiding his woeful blue eyes up to meet hers.

"It's ok." she murmured, slipping into a kneeling position in front of him.

When Don looked into her eyes he could see the wealth of understanding she really had of the situation. She wasn't disappointed or irate, she didn't make him feel as if he had offended her or that he was being ridiculous.

She was just Grace.

Loving, accepting, adorable Grace.

The words were flooding out of him now in hurried rush of thoughts and images. She had seen the bloody rumpled mess he had been in the back of the ambulance but she had never seen the way those cuts and burns had healed. His chest looked ravaged underneath his shirt, it was hard for even him to look at in the morning. The question was could he expect the same from her?

He couldn't stand to see the horror in her eyes when she looked at him or the revulsion. He had seen the pitying looks from nurses in the hospital when they were changing his dressings. They always told him he was lucky to have survived what had happened but he could see the truth in their eyes as they lied through their mouths. They would rather have been killed than be left in the same position as him, staring at the permanent reminders of an event he would have done anything to forget.

"It's my chest." Don explained in an agitated voice. "What he did to me, it's still there written on my chest and I hate it. I hate looking at it everyday, it reminds me what he did."

Grace lips hovering just over that tiny white white scar at the edge of his mouth before she placed a kiss upon it.

"Remember what you said to me when I told you I didn't want you to see the scars on my shoulder." she breathed in his ear, her fingers hooking the bottom of his shirt as she drew it up just a little to reveal his abdomen."You gently peeled my shirt away as you whispered in my ear just like this."

Her smoky voice was sensual, sending a thrill down his spine to his groin as he remembered the unspoken things that voice promised. It had been too long without her, he wanted to feel that sense of completion that came with being inside her. He yearned for the full strength of their connection, he needed his soul to feel whole again.

"You said that they were a part of me and that's what makes them beautiful. They're part of your experience Don, their a map of your life and they tell your story." her words were like soft caresses as she coaxed the shirt up even higher.

Don held up his arms in an omission of trust as Grace drew the shirt up and over his head before depositing it on the floor beside them. Don felt more naked than he had ever been in his whole entire life. All of his flaws were exposed and open for her to see. He watched her expression as she studied the patterns on his chest with curiosity. There was no disgust or disdain in her gaze, only interest as she traced the rivets of flesh with her fingertips.

"They tell me your brave, that your a survivor and they make me thankful that you came back to me. To you they're just one more thing Maplin gave you but to me they're the part of you that reminds me every day how lucky I am that your as strong as you are." Grace told him sincerely, pressing her soft lips to the crumpled, burned skin that nestled just above his heart.

"Now it's the place I've kissed better." she murmured, her breath ghosting across his skin like an angel's touch as she moved onto the cut just above his collarbone.

Don's let out a moan of appreciation as his hands slipped through her silky dark hair grasping her to him as she licked, touched and teased every inch of of his scarred chest before she pushed him onto his back so he was lying flat on the floor. Grace's lips fastened on the scar that trailed just past his belly button as her apt fingers unclasped the button of his jeans.

"I'm going to kiss it all away." she whispered to him. "Until the only thing you remember is the feel of my lips and tongue across each and everyone of them."

She stripped away his jeans and underwear in the same motion leaving him completely nude before her. She was a goddess in his eyes, a beautiful fierce woman sent to save him. Her own T-shirt was off revealing her lack of bra followed closely by her sweats and panties. The sight of her kneeling between his legs was awe-inspiring.

"How do you make me feel so damn good about myself?" Don asked her as she slinked towards him.

Her stunning grey eyes on his as she lowered her mouth to his muscular thigh. Even as he asked the question he was aware that he already had his answer.

Soulmates.

Her mouth was warm and welcoming as she sucked at the vivid scar etched into his left thigh drawing a gluttonous groan from low in his throat. His hands were tangling in her hair again guiding her closer to her real goal. He couldn't wait any longer to feel her on him. He wanted her pink lips wrapped around his dick as she worshipped every single inch of him with her mouth.

Grace obliged his urging by licking up his glistening manhood with one long, slow stroke before taking his entire length inside the hot moist confines of her mouth. Don cried out at the sensation of her tongue swirling around the head of his cock while her hand masturbated him. He jerked uncontrollably responding to her ministrations like a man enslaved. In a way he was, she was merciless in her seductive act and he could do nothing but receive the pleasure that caused every single nerve in his body to explode with the beginnings of the most intense orgasm he was to ever experience.

"Jesus, your gonna make me come like this." he pleaded between every single straining gasp. "Let me love you Grace. I need to feel complete again."

Grace released him from his agonizing ecstasy and crawled up the length of his quivering muscular form until she straddled his hips. His cock was pressing against her slick folds as she teased him within an inch of his control adjusting her trajectory at just the right angle to avoid penetration.

"I've wanted you for so long." she told him in a husky voice as her delicate hands played along the lines of his chest.

"Then god damn take me." he demanded, his entire body convulsing as he arched just out of reach of her tight entrance.

Her lover was back with a vengeance. Don's eyes were bright with arousal, his teeth gritted against the desire that flushed through the two of them. His fingertips were clenching her hips and she could feel the desperation for release in that grasp.

"I love you." she whispered as she slid down his impressive erection slowly.

They melded together in unison. Their fractured connection fused together suddenly even stronger than before as Grace began to writhe above her husband's gorgeous body. Don was taking over, she let him control the pace as he thrust into her wanton form craving her completion in every which way. The noises that escaped her mouth were feral telling him to go harder, faster until the two of them were delirious with ecstasy. He was losing himself in Grace all over again and he never wanted to stop loving her. She was his in all entirety and that would never change. He had sworn himself to eternity with her and he would live out that promise until the day he died.

His climax was building at the base of his cock, he could feel it overpowering his control as he tried to stave it off. He wanted to come with her, to be joined at exactly the same moment. In the end his wish was granted as he felt Grace's tight muscles clench around his cock like a velvet glove. He was drowning in the euphoria as her orgasm consumed the both of them. Don had never come so powerfully before. His entire body tingled with tiny explosions of pleasure as he began to wind down from the new dizzying heights in which she had taken him.

He gathered her trembling spent form up into his strong arms, her cheek coming to rest upon his shoulder as her palm sought out the rapid beating of his heart. This was where he belonged, there was no other place for him in the world.

"I'm yours." he murmured against her hairline as his hand came to settle on their baby nestled safely in her stomach. "I've always been yours."

Chapter 65

Summary:

Don has another nightmare...

Chapter Text

There was blood on his hands again, it was thick and free flowing through his fingers as he lay there shuddering and twitching alone in the darkness. It was coming from the rivets of flesh torn open in his chest. He could feel the warmth of his life slipping out as he took each ragged echoing pant. He couldn't breath past the fiery ripples of pain tearing in his chest. There was a harsh whisper scurrying closer from the edges of the darkness. He could hear the prickling of a thousand eyes upon him as he grunted and gasped into empty air surrounding him.

He wasn't alone and the possibilities made his skin crawl. He was scared, God he was ridiculously scared right now. It hurt to breath and his hands were trying to stifle the bleeding trickling along the lines of his ribcage.

A flash of silver darted across his vision out of nowhere causing him to jerk and twist in horror. He spat out a cry of pain, flinching underneath the presence hunched over him. He closed his eyes against the harshness of the florescent life swaying above him. He didn't want to see the face bearing down above him. That manic smile frightened him, Don would never admit that out loud. He would never give the satisfaction.

It was the laughter that made his heart palpitate against his ribs, that deep, rich husky cackle he had come to know almost intimately.

"You'll never leave here."

"I'm already gone." Don heard himself whisper before the whole world disappeared.

The bedroom was pitch black when he wretched awake from his nightmare, heart pounding in his chest. His breathing was coming out in loud, short breaths as he lay on his back trying to chase away the abstract memories that rattled through his mind. He forced his lungs to take in deep, calming breaths, allowing his heart rate to falter as he grappled with control.

Maplin's dead, he reminded himself. He can't hurt you any more.

The nightmares now were less consistent but they were still as real as ever. Sometimes Don relived what had happened to him and others were fragmented figments of his imagination still trying to process it all. He was winning, he thought, slowly but surely he was restoring the elements of his life and each and everyday wasn't such a struggle any more. He had started to think of them as blessings instead.

Beside him Grace grumbled something incoherent in her sleep bringing back a more solid sense of place. Don rolled onto his side, his firm arm wrapping around his wife's sleeping form and drawing her closer. He buried his face into her silky hair inhaling her sweet floral scent through his nose, feeling the tightness in his chest unclench just a little bit.

Each breath he took was a step closer to him regaining control and he treasured that Grace had that influence over him. His hand smoothed across her hip skirting underneath the filmy, lavender nightdress before coming to rest upon her swollen stomach.

Don tucked his knees behind Grace's as he spooned her even closer, peppering kisses upon the scars that were dotted across her naked shoulder. Something thudded lightly against his palm underneath Grace's ample flesh and Don found himself chuckling against the nape of his wife's neck as he followed the movements slowly.

"Hello baby." he whispered.

It never failed to surprise him how completely awestruck he became when their baby decided to make contact. He could feel the tiny piece of himself inside Grace trying to get comfortable and smiled into her soft skin.

"Hm. She's kicking again." Grace murmured, her voice still thick from sleep.

She shifted onto her back, tilting her head until her cheek came to rest on the pillow. Her grey gaze ensnared him as his palm roamed across her belly, fingertips tickling the places where the baby shifted and poked.

"You ok?" Grace mumbled, the back of her hand rubbing across her eyes to clear away the ebbs of sleepiness.

"Yea." he told her, pressing a lingering kiss to his wife's lips. "I'm fine."

It was the first time after such a nightmare that he had said those words and meant them. The apprehension in his chest had evaporated almost instantly when he had tucked himself against Grace's pregnant body. Her and the baby were his salvation, the world was a much better place with the two of them in it.

"Nervous about tomorrow?" she asked him, more alert now than before.

Don shook his head in response to her question. He would be lying if he didn't admit to feeling some trepidation in regards to returning to work. Despite the fact his psyche eval had cleared him for duty he still had his own reservations about being in the field.

Thankfully Angell was riding all of his cases with him for the first couple of months so he was relieved to have someone he trusted watching his back. He just hoped he could provide Angell with the same type of security. He couldn't bring himself to fully think about that it was too much pressure to try and consider. He wouldn't know whether to trust his instincts or not until the occasion arrived.

"It's been five months and I can almost run the same distance and speed as I did before what happened. The doctor has cleared me and I'm in better shape now than I was when I graduated the academy, the department physical should be a cake walk." he assured her, his gaze lowering to her stomach in distraction.

Grace understood that he didn't want to talk abut the real elephant in the room and she had learned over the past two months not to push him. She watched as the sides of his mouth twitched as their child nudged against his hand again in a way that was almost exploratory.

"I think she takes after you." Don told Grace knowingly. "Always curious and wanting to learn more. I think she's trying to work out what my hand is."

Grace smiled as her eyes began to flutter closed again. Seven months pregnant and she was already larger than she could ever have imagined. She knew people who had worn their baby bump as if it was a compact accessory, unfortunately she was not one of them. It did nothing to aid her sleeping pattern. It took a long time to get comfortable again once Don had replaced the body pillow she'd become accosted to snuggling up to while he was away. That said, she would rather wake up in he husband's secure, strong arms any day of the week.

"I think she's sleeping now." Grace uttered at the absence of the baby's movements.

Don gave one final caress across her stomach as if waving goodbye as he whispered.

"Good night Jenny."

Chapter 66

Summary:

Don surprises Grace on Mother's Day.

Chapter Text

It was Mother's Day and Don was watching his sleeping wife from the open doorway of their dimly lit bedroom. It was early in the morning and he had just returned home from his first week of night shifts since he had gone back to work and he was more than glad to see her.

Grace's body was curled up, pressing against the body pillow she slept with when he was absent. Her lean legs were entwined with the cream sheets that she had pushed off at some point during the night. As usual her right hand was resting upon the baby in her belly. Don wondered if their daughter had been kicking again before Grace had slipped into sleep.

He was content to come home to this. In the months he had been away he had missed his wife and their baby greatly. He had forgotten what it was like to wake up next to her in bed, to become absorbed in her all over again. Since he had moved back it had been almost blissful between the two of them. Grace had been patient and responsive to his needs, she respected his desire for personal space and normalcy. She wasn't offended when he brushed her off or drew away her sometimes.

Don was determined not to get into the same isolated state that had screwed him up in the first place. He knew those days were terrible for Grace and he regretted them but he knew his wife didn't blame him for what happened and that was important to him. The moment he let the guilt crash down again would be the moment everything went to hell and he couldn't allow that to happen, not with his little girl on the way.

His wife's strength and resilience never failed to amaze him. A lesser woman may have served him with divorce papers after the way he had lashed out and in reality he wouldn't have blamed her. The truth was the separation had been the best thing that could have happened to them at that juncture of their lives. If he had stayed it would have got worse and the violence would have escalated into their home and in the end he would have lost both his wife and daughter. Don had been turning into one of the monsters he ultimately despised.

He was trying to make up for that now. He did his best to be affectionate and caring especially since the two of them were re-establishing themselves again. He knew what it meant to Grace to know that he was there now. She had been so strong over the past few months for him and their baby, now it was time for her to lean on him if she needed to. He was making amends for his past actions in the only way he knew how. Don was determined to prove to Grace how much he loved and appreciated her.

The wealth of his love for their child shocked him more than he cared to admit. He had never thought he could love something so selflessly after Grace. She was the one he was meant to be with and he had given his heart and soul over to her from the very beginning of their relationship. Bringing a baby into the mix only made things better, knowing his baby girl was nestled happily within his wife gave him feelings he hadn't felt possible. Don had never felt a bond like this before, every time he put his hand on Grace's swollen belly or spoke against her soft skin there was a connection to his child.

Jennifer Katelyn Flack. Just thinking about his daughter made him break out into a grin that he couldn't stifle. In the last sonogram they had attended Don had been able to listen to the pitter patter of his child tiny heartbeat. It was like listening to a hummingbird through a set of speakers, the sound had brought tears to his wife's eyes and he had barely been able to control the joy that had overwhelmed him.

Don looked down at the silver gift wrapped box in his hands. He had known the instant he had laid eyes upon the ceramic figurine in the jewellery shop that it had been created for his wife. The assistant had gift wrapped it with a golden, silk ribbon.

Don padded quietly across the bedroom shutting the door behind him with his free hand. Grace stirred sensing his presence in the room before Don sat on his side of the bed, fingers combing tenderly through her dark shoulder length hair. He leaned over placing a kiss on the apple of her cheek. Grace wrinkled her nose before turning to lie flat on her back, her grey eyes flickering open.

"Good morning." she mumbled as Don's fingertips chased a stray strand of hair away from her eyes. "What time is it?"

"It's after seven." Don told her, setting the gift in his lap as she struggled into a sitting position against the head board. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Don reached out and altered the pillows so that she was propped up comfortably. Her hands came to rest on her eight month baby belly as she leaned her head against the wall behind her.

"Happy Mother's Day." Don said slipping the gift box into her lap.

Grace's eyebrows crinkled in surprise as the edges of her lips twitched at the present between her hands.

"Don you didn't have to do this." Grace replied, her entire face lighting up as her fingertips smoothed over the soft material of the golden ribbon.

The sparkle in Grace's eyes and the smile on her face made the gift entirely worth it. Don liked seeing her like this, he loved to see her so happy. Every time she gave him that subdued, intimate smile it touched him deep down inside. God he loved her, how had he ever thought he could live without this wonderful woman?

"It's from Jenny." Don informed his wife. "She said she wanted you to have something special but she's too little to get it herself."

Grace broke into a wide grin, chuckling at her husband's wording as he shuffled into position along side her, adjusting his own pillows. Don leaned in slightly so he lingered within Grace's comfort zone. He wanted her to know that he was close by and he selfishly enjoyed the aura of contentment and love that radiated from her like an aura.

"We talk when your asleep." he teased, using his hand to indicate between himself and the baby bump the present was now resting upon.

"Barely eight months pregnant and already the two of you are conspiring against me." Grace said humorously as she tugged upon the ribbon undoing the bow.

Don sniggered, watching as her delicate hands began to strip away the silver wrapping paper from the cardboard box inside. Grace studied the Willow Tree logo on the outside curiously. They usually made beautiful, simple, hand crafted figurines and memory boxes. She had admired the figures for years but she could never bring herself to buy one for her self. They were gifts with an intensely personal meaning behind them. She had bought her mother the Irish Charm figurine for Mother's Day. Don must have seen her admiring them when he was picking out something for his own mother.

Grace opened up the cardboard box and reached inside gently pulling out the smaller, wooden, square box.

It was stunning. The memory box was fine crafted and hand painted with minuscule hinges. It fit into the palm of her hand just perfectly. The image etched into the front of it was of a faceless mother cradling her new born baby. Grace felt her throat ache at the emotion that pooled in her chest and stung at her eyes.

"Hey, if you don't like it I can take it back." Don said in dismay, misreading the expression on her features.

Grace shook her head using the back of her hand to wipe at the tears leaking from her eyes as she laughed. She couldn't verbalise how moved she was by his actions. This box was the embodiment of everything she felt for this baby and that Don had gotten this for her meant so much. She was so deeply touched by this gift.

"God no I love it." she told him as a smile broke across her face. "It's perfect."

Don opened the box with careful fingers revealing a small, silver greeting card with a gold Celtic symbol embossed onto the front. Grace removed it quizzically before flicking it open to read Don's bold, neat scrawl inside.

Dear Mommy,

I can't wait to meet you.

Love Jenny x

"Oh Don." Grace murmured, her eyes welling up again as Don's arm wrapped around her shoulders drawing her even closer to his warm body.

"Jenny." he corrected quietly, his lips brushing against Grace's temple as she laughed out loud again.

Her delicate hands came to rest just over the daughter nestled deep within the protective confines of her womb as she whispered to their baby.

"Thank you Jenny."

Chapter 67

Summary:

Don and Grace celebrate Medal Day.

Chapter Text

The NYPD Medal Day Ceremony wasn't the most prestigious event of the year but to all of the officers that paraded through the police department it was definitely the most honourable. It was the place they came to celebrate other officers supreme achievements in the face of adversity. Medals were handed out every year and the friends and family of each officer were always present in the audience. In this case the entire crime lab was attending the ceremony. They all wanted to be here to support her husband and Grace found that endearing.

The sun was shining down upon the crowd of patrons seated in the uncomfortable metal fold out chairs. Grace was sitting amongst them, fanning her face with the pamphlet she had been handed on the way in.

Jesus it was hot out here and being close to her due date wasn't helping. She felt huge, nothing like the lithe, athletic woman who had appeared here once before to support Don when he had received a commendation after the Wilder case. She had been slender then, prettier clad in a sleek, gunmetal grey trouser grey suit with long, ringlet curls.

Now she was clad in a midnight blue, v-necked chiffon dress. The material was blissful across her skin, she needed something light in this heat and for that the dress was perfect. It fell to just above her knees accenting her shapely legs clad in lace covered ballet flats. Instead of a friend, she was here as somebody's wife, standing beside the ex-police commissioner who was grinning like the proud parent he was.

Her husband was on the stage. Don was wound tight as he took confident strides towards the centre of the stage. His dress blues were taunt over his broad frame as he stood with his hands clasped together before Commissioner Reagan. The cap was perched upon his head, the visor pulled down over his startling blue eyes. There was no trace of the limp that had plagued his steps in the very beginning of his recovery. Up there in front of his peers his chin was up and his head held high. He looked invincible yet she knew he was anything but impervious.

His expression was solemn as Commissioner Reagan removed the Purple Shield from it's ornate box and pinned it with careful fingers onto the front of Don's dress uniform. His jaw was set and she could tell from her position in the front row that he was grinding his teeth through the occasion. Don turned to face the crowd as they erupted into applause. His gaze sought out hers as he rose his hand in a silent salute. Grace placed her hand upon her stomach as a smile spread across her placid features. She saw his lips twitch in response to her grin before he lowered his hand and matched off the stage.

"He deserves this." Donald Senior said as his wife snapped off pictures of her only son on the digital camera.

"I think he knows that now." Grace returned quietly, both hands rubbing across her stomach at the small pains clenching in her stomach.

"You ok? You've been doing that a lot over the past few hours." he commented, raising his thick eyebrows.

"Braxton Hicks contractions." Grace appeased him dismissively. "I'm positive God just gives them to me because he likes to see me suffer."

"Meredith was the same when she was pregnant with Don, I ended up rushing her into hospital the first time because we thought she was going into labour." Donald chuckled at the memory, shaking his head. "By the time he did decide to make an appearance we were dying to meet him."

"That's how we feel about Jenny." Grace told her father in law, pulling a face. "I'm tired of being unable to see my feet and we both want to be able to see our little girl. I just hope she doesn't decide to skate over the due date."

"Both Don and Sam were late births, they just liked it so much in there they didn't want to come out." Donald shrugged. "They say that's better than premature, I hear they can have a lot of problems."

"If their really early I'd say so. I'm not sure if a week would really effect it. I mean she has to be pretty developed right now. I feel like I'm ready to pop." Grace told him, fanning her flushed face with the pamphlet yet again.

"Not long to go now." Donald said rubbing his hands together with glee. "I can't wait to introduce my first grand baby to the world, take her to feed the ducks and read to her at night."

Grace rolled her eyes with a knowing smile.

"I think Don's hoping we get a brood going so we can have a whole hockey team. I don't think more than one would fit in the apartment, we would have had issues if this had turned out to be twins." Grace informed Donald, the two of them staying seated as the crowd around them began to disperse.

Their friends from the crime lab rallied around them chatting with each other and offering to grab refreshments while the two of them waited for Don.

"Do you think you'll have any more?" Donald asked her casually.

"I don't think I can answer that until this one decides to come out." Grace said patting her bump.

"She's making us wait." Don said dropping into the seat beside his wife and planting a kiss on her temple.

"My own wife is calling." Donald uttered, rolling his eyes as rose to his feet leaning on his cane for support.

"You looked good up there." Grace told him, tilting her head so they were staring deeply into each other's eyes.

Don's arm was around the back of her chair, his thumb lightly caressing the shape of her bare shoulder. The action sent shivers up and down Grace's spine. Don chuckled at her intake of breath as she shifted at the desire that pulsed through her body.

"What do you say you and me get out of here so you can help me take off this uniform?" Don murmured against her lips as he leaned in close.

"You know I can never resist a man in uniform." Grace teased, her hands smoothing up and down his labels impatiently.

"Hm isn't that how we got in this mess in the first place." Don asked humorously, raising his eyebrows with intention.

"We couldn't..." Grace said her gaze darting around to the thick of people surrounding them.

Nobody was watching them, their attention was all drawn on their conversations with other members of the crime lab. It was rude to slip out but at the same time Don's fingers trailing along the back of her neck toying with her hair was sending long glorious thrills through her body.

"Doll, we can do anything we want." Don whispered, his lips brushing across her cheek.

Grace bit her lower lip to stifle the moan about to erupt from her mouth. Don pulled back clasping her hands tightly in his as he drew her gently to her feet.


Nine months pregnant and Grace still had the ability to turn Don on like no one else before her. His hands skated along the length of her supple body as he buried himself deep inside her. Her moans of pleasure were like an symphony in his ears as he met her desperate thrusts with slow drawn out strokes. He loved holding her like this, being spooned around her while he made love to his wife was so beautifully intimate. His lips were on the nape of her neck, licking and sucking the salty skin as his fingertips trailed along the shape of her rounded stomach. Her fingers were threading in his hair as her hand reached back guiding his mouth higher to nuzzle that little sweet spot just under the line of her jaw.

"Jesus Don, I'm gonna come." she panted, her entire body arching against him.

"Fuck, it turns me on when you say things like that." Don breathed into her ear.

"Show me how much." she dared him as that sexy little whimper escaped from low in her throat.

Don liked it when she spoke like that. She was still his aphrodisiac and that smoky voice of hers sent an intense thrill through him. He watched the movements of her sensual body as he picked up the pace. Her nails scrapped across his forearms as her cries grew louder and louder. She was insatiable, he could never get enough of the sensations she created. God, she completed him, heart, soul, body and mind.

Her orgasm was powerful and all consuming, it dragged him under along with her drowning him in the euphoria as her muscles tensed around his cock. Her name was on his lips as he climaxed. His hand caught hers, their fingers entwining as the two of them rode out their orgasm together.

Don's mouth was already planting kisses along the back of her neck and along the line of her shoulders as he wrapped his arms around her pregnant body and drew her even closer against his solid chest.

"You blow my mind you know that?" he whispered into her ear.

"I assumed from the way you were gasping my name just then." Grace teased, rolling onto her back so she could look into Don's vivid blue eyes. "I love looking into your eyes, I feel like I can see the whole world in them."

Don's palm came to rest on her stomach, smoothing over the shape of their baby as he murmured against his wife's pert pink lips.

"The two of you are my world."

Chapter 68

Summary:

Grace goes into labor.

Chapter Text

It was late in the morning and Grace was in the bathroom putting on the finishing touches to her make up. The blusher brush was clasped between her fingers as she decorated the apples of her cheeks with the dandelion pink powder. Don had decided he was taking her out for lunch today, he wasn't due in to work until late in the afternoon and she was sure he was trying to make up for lost time in some respects. If she was honest Grace didn't mind being pampered or wined and dined.

Despite their amazing session last night, she was still self conscious about how her husband viewed her pregnant body. Being so large was a shock to her system and she had to regularly make allowances for her baby bump. She was used to being slimmer and more active and the baby hindered that, it made her slower and less responsive. Sometimes she felt like she was sluggish and fat, she couldn't even see her feet these days so how could she expect her husband to be attracted to her?

Yet Don claimed he was, he found it awe-inspiring that she was carrying his child. There was a primal urge deep down to protect and provide for his family, one that he took very seriously. It seemed that he couldn't keep his hands off of her and she enjoyed that. She thought he was aware of her need for reassurances.

All the time he whispered the most dangerous, sexy things into her ear and always it sent a delicious tingle riding through her body. Hearing all the dirty things he wanted to do to her in this heightened state drove her insane with desire and need. The fact he still wanted her no matter how clumsy and awkward she felt boosted her confidence in ways she could not being herself to explain.

The fact Don followed through with each and every huskily whispered word meant more to her than she could describe. Jesus just thinking of his hands roaming all over her body made her flush with delirious heat. He responded to her every whim, trying out the multitude of positions that made her more comfortable with patience and humour. No matter what she requested he delivered with ease and a smile.

God the memory of his fingertips digging into her hips as he took her from behind made her wet all over again. His throbbing, hot cock pumping in and out of her with deep, controlled strokes, her ass fitting snugly against the shape of his hips as she held herself up on all fours upon their bed. His words rang in her ears between his loud ragged pants.

"I sit at my desk thinking about fucking you like this, about plunging into your wet, tight, little pussy and making you scream with pleasure." he had growled as he slammed into her writhing, wanton form."Your mine, you and this baby are all mine and your gonna prove that by saying my name when you come Grace, I wanna hear you say it."

She had cried his name and a hell of a lot more as she rose up through the vicious haze of ecstasy that had stolen every doubt away her. He had taken her and there was no two ways about it and she loved being possessed like that. He never objectified her but by God he made damn sure she knew she was his. She held onto that feeling with vigour.

Being his was part of her identity now as much as being a mother was. She felt like pieces of her were being slipped into small, well organised cubbyholes. Cop, mother, wife, she was all of these things at once. Maybe not so much the cop at the moment but after the baby that would return. She liked the sense of belonging it gave her. She was in the right place at the right time, she could feel it.

The blusher brush clattered in the sink as Grace was viciously attacked by sudden cramping pain in her lower abdomen. Jesus Christ these Braxton Hicks Contractions were a bastard. They were worse than usual and lower down. It felt like her insides were seizing up completely. The only thing she could liken it to was to was horrendous menstrual cramps. Grace let out a shuddering breath at the sudden release between her legs. It felt like she was gushing and she knew the instant that it happened that this must be the real thing.

"Don!" Grace yelled, yanking open the bathroom door.

She gripped the door frame with an iron grasp as her lower body was crippled by another contraction. She wrapped her arm around her baby bump as Don hurried down the hall towards her. His hand was already on her chin tilting it up to look into his eyes as she grimaced in pain.

"I think the baby is coming." Grace said through between clenched teeth. "My waters have broken and the contractions are coming really fast."

"It's ok." Don told his wife firmly, cupping her soft cheeks in his warm, calm hands. "I'm just going to get the keys and then we'll get you to the hospital. Everything is going to be fine, I promise."

Grace nodded quickly as she swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. She was scared, she was so badly frightened of the lack of control she had over the situation. She had been to the classes, she was prepared for this but at the same time her lack of experience was what alarmed her. She didn't know if she could be a mother and it was too late to change her mind. Now it was make or break time.

"You can do this doll." Don said as if reading her thoughts, his fingers combing through her silky shoulder length hair as he pressed a lingering kiss to her lips. "I know you can."


Grace had underestimated how mentally and physically exhausting giving birth could actually be. The aftermath was so startlingly blissful she wasn't sure whether she was still high from the strawberry tasting gas she's been inhaling or not. Their baby girl was nestled against her chest, swaddled in a small pink blanket with a tiny pink hat pulled down over her head.

Jennifer Katelyn Flack was every single slice of heaven the two of them had imagined she'd be and more. She exceeded their expectations and Grace could barely formulate words in order to explain how she felt. One look at Don when Jenny was handed over to him and she knew he was hooked. She had never seen him look more awestruck than he had in that moment when he'd cradled their baby girl as gently as possible in the crook of his large arm.

In all the years she had known Don she had never seen such an acute expression of tenderness upon his handsome features. The smile was subtle and loving as his thumb delicately smoothed over his daughter's minuscule face.

"Welcome to the world Jennifer."

Jenny let out a modest grumble as Grace adjusted her beautiful daughter so she was settled a little more comfortably.

"She did not like that." Don commented as Jenny's fist curled around his forefinger as she waved her arms.

"I just can't believe how small she is." Grace murmured.

She hadn't taken her eyes off her daughter since Don had placed the baby in her arms for the second time. It amazed her how perfect little Jenny was. It surprised her how much of herself and Don she could see inside their daughter.

"I can't believe we made something so amazing." Don said quietly, shaking his head.

It astounded him that he could feel so much for something so tiny. He was so proud that he had contributed to this infant, that his wife had carried their daughter for nine months. The moment Jenny had been put in his arms he had felt their own bond bursting to life. He truly believed that she was a gift delivered to them from God.

"She has your eyes." Grace told him, tilting her chin up to stare into her husband's vivid blue eyes.

"From all that wailing she was doing when she first came out I think she has your mouth." Don teased, planting a chaste kiss on Grace's forehead.

"You really want to go there after five hours of labour?" Grace responded pointedly.

"Nah, not when your cranky like this." Don said humorously as he jiggled his finger a tad under his daughter's grasp. "You wore mommy out didn't you Jenny and now she's all grouchy."

"I think Jenny needs a hug from daddy." Grace told Don, holding the squirming bundle of rose pink blankets out to him.

"You getting tired?" Don questioned as he reached out to remove the baby from his wife's arms.

Grace nodded wearily, her eyelids already drooping at the fatigue that had captured her. She had wanted to hold her baby girl one last time before she drifted off to sleep. She hoped that she would dream of their child, so that she didn't lose a single precious moment with her.

"I'm proud of you." Don's words filtered through to her sleep logged brain as she sunk back onto the pillows.

"I'm proud of you too Don."

Chapter 69

Summary:

Adam and Danny meet Jenny for the first time.

Chapter Text

The baby nursery was housed on the other side of a large glass window on the same floor as the maternity ward. On the opposite side of the transparent pane there were row upon row of small, neatly organised, plastic cots each containing a baby. Some were dozing, their dinky little mouths open as they lay tangled in minuscule blankets. Others were simply jingling their limbs testing out their new found freedom as they took in the world around them.

The boy babies were clad in tiniest blue hats that Adam had ever seen and of course the girls were clad in pink. If he was honest most of the babies looked the same to him, the only different being ethnicity. He wondered where their God Daughter was in the sea of babies. If his suspicions were right he assumed it was the mouthy looking one, flailing as best as she could in the top left hand corner. Already trying to escape, he thought.

Danny was beside him already holding up a piece of paper written with the Sharpie Fineliner that Adam always carried around with him. He clapped his palm against the glass trapping the piece of paper in between it and the glass so that the nurse could read the words.

Jennifer Flack.

The nurse held up a finger, indicating for them to wait a moment. Danny crossed his arms over his chest, a wide proud grin already spreading across his weary, dirty blond features as he followed he nurse with his cornflower blue eyes.

The two of them were the first from Grace and Flack's crime scene family to arrive. As soon as Flack had called them to say Grace had given birth to a healthy baby girl they had finished up as quickly as they could to visit their friends. Mac had allowed them to leave before their shift's end provided they had handed in their paperwork.

Mac had informed them that him and Jo would be in attendance at the hospital later, they were doing the final sign offs on the evidence reports from the case of the girl Jo had found dead in the Crime Lab yesterday morning.

Despite the fact Adam missed Stella he had to admit he liked Mac's new second in command Jo Danville. She was humorous and entertaining, a breath of fresh air in the Crime Lab. The boss and her were polar opposites but Adam thought that's why the working relationship they seemed to be forming was working so well.

Adam raked a hand through his unruly curls as his own face split into a wide smile as the nurse selected the infant that Adam had deemed to be the hell raiser of the bunch. The baby girl didn't take kindly to the disruption, she wriggled and wrestled with the nurse's firm hands as she raised her out of the plastic cot. Her face was creased with irritation as she opened her perfectly formed lips and let out an ear splitting howl that the two of them could hear through the solid glass formation in front of them.

There was silence between the two men for a second as the nurse approached the window wincing. Danny hid a chuckle behind his hand causing Adam to purse his lips together trying to hide the amused smirk spreading across his rugged features.

Jenny was starring back at them with wide blue eyes looking indignant at the people responsible for removing her from comfort zone yet again.

"She's got Grace's temper I'll give her that." Danny proclaimed at the baby's feisty and restricted movements.

"Don's eyes though, look at those baby blues." Adam said shaking his head at the sight of their beautiful little God Daughter.

There was a sense of responsibility residing in each of the men as they stood before the window. Adam knew the chances of either of them becoming the primary caregiver for this child were remote. Yet there was still that growing feeling of love building up in his chest, making it hard for him to swallow as he became encumbered by Jennifer's charms. He had never seen something so tiny and vulnerable before. There was such a definite urge to protect when he looked at the child in front of him and he knew without any doubt in his mind he would guide and watch over that little girl for years to come. Adam cast a glance at Danny and he understood from the expression of awe on the other man's features that he wasn't the only one finding this moment so clarifying.

Danny pressed his palm to the window once more, placing it in the space where little Jenny's tiny hand would come to rest if she was able to make the same motion before he whispered.

"Love you Jenny baby."

Chapter 70

Summary:

Sometimes mom's need a break...

Chapter Text

The baby was screaming. She had been crying steadily for over three hours now and Grace was at her wit's end. Grace had tried everything she could think of to relieve the colic. She had changed her diet, she had given Jenny the medicine that Sheldon had recommended, she had cuddled the hell out of that child rubbing her stomach and her back to help try to shift the painful stomach cramping in her little girl. Nothing worked, she didn't think that it even helped take the edge off.

Now she felt like she was going insane as the baby howled and wailed that horrendous shriek that tweaked every single one of Grace's nerves. God, how did anyone stand this? Jenny hadn't even taken a breath in the midst of all this screaming. She felt like she hadn't slept in days, it seemed like every time she tried to Jenny was waking up demanding something else. A nappy change, a feed, another feed, nappy change again.

Mothers weren't supposed to think abut giving their child away to the nearest thrift store but Grace was seriously debating it. Over the past few days this colic had been ruining her life. It was hour after hour of noise piercing through her brain like an ice pick.

"Please baby, please just be quiet." Grace begged with the child clasped against her chest.

Jenny was ruthless and unrelenting. Grace rubbed her hand up and down her baby's back lovingly trying to help.

The door to the apartment opened revealing Don clad in dark jeans and his chocolate brown leather jacket. His startling blue eyes fixed on her as he grimaced at the sound emitting from their daughter.

"She's driving me crazy." Grace complained as she stalked towards him. "I can't take it any more."

Grace shoved the baby into his arms, leaving Don stunned as he watched his wife yank her own charcoal grey, woollen coat from the back of the chair and force it on.

"Where are you going?" Don asked her.

"Anywhere away from that little demon." Grace snapped, snatching up her hand bag and escaping through the apartment door.


It was early in the evening when someone rapped their knuckles upon Adam's door. He was playing Guitar Hero on Expert, his fingers moving over the frets like buttons with a speed he had long since mastered. He was awesome at Guitar Hero, whenever he had a bad day he flicked on the Xbox 360 and picked up the guitar and strummed the hell out of it. Adam tossed the guitar on the coffee table before striding towards the door.

Experience had taught Adam to check the peep hole. So when he saw his best friend standing on the opposite side looking worse for wear he tore the door open in seconds.

"Hey." Grace murmured, dropping her gaze as she fidgeted with both of the rings that adorned her fingers. "Can I come in?"

"Yea, yea sure." Adam said holding the door open for her as he studied her exhausted features.

She was wearing no make up, making her pallor more paler than usual. Her grey eyes were blood shot and rimmed with redness, her dark hair was scraped back into a short pony tail at the base of her neck, bangs falling over her face as she took a seat upon his couch.

"You ok?" Adam asked her quietly, watching as Grace rubbed both hands over her exhausted face.

"No." Grace said into her hands, peering at Adam through her fingers. "I think I hate my baby and she knows it."

Adam dropped down onto the couch beside Grace, pressing both of his hands together between his knees.

"You don't hate Jenny." Adam told her firmly.

"I called her a demon." Grace confessed, sagging into the couch. "Barely a month old and I already suspect she's a terrorist."

Adam let out a dry laugh as Grace rubbed her hand over her gritty eyes.

"She's the spawn of you and Flack what did you expect?" Adam questioned. "You knew this wasn't going to be easy."

"I didn't think it would be this hard." Grace protested, her head coming to rest on the back of the couch. "I'm just so exhausted. She screams all the way through the day because of this damn colic and then I'm up with her in the night because Don's on the late shift."

"Your tired, it's hard being a mom especially when your husband's on shifts." Adam said, looking at his friend over his shoulder.

Grace snuggling even further down in her coat burying her face in the collar.

"Let me get you a cup of tea. Tea makes everything that little bit better." Adam reminded her, patting Grace's knee lightly.

"Sure." Grace responded, nodding her head wearily.

Grace needed help, Adam thought as he flicked on the kettle. In fact he was sure the Flack family needed a little help. He could see Grace struggling and he knew that she was far too stubborn to ask for it. He wondered how much Don knew about what she was going through right now. He was sure the other man must be concerned about where his wife had disappeared to.

Grace was rash and impulsive when she was stressed, Adam doubted she mentioned where she was running off to. Adam sniffed the milk, checking it before he poured it into the Supergirl mug he always reserved for Grace. Adam picked up the mug and strolled towards the living room. He stopped dead in the doorway, his eyes lingering on the sleeping woman before him.

Grace was huddled in the deepest corner of his beaten up couch. Her head was tilted so it rested on the old cushions. Her chin was resting on her chest, her arms still wrapped around her waist the same way they had been when he'd stepped into the kitchen. She hadn't been lying when she said she was exhausted.

Adam set the mug down on the coffee table noiselessly before grasping the blanket he kept covering the back of the couch and gently laying it over his best friend. Grace didn't even stir as he tucked it around her body.

Maybe it was time for an intervention after all. Him and Danny were Jenny's godparents after all, maybe they should pitch in and help. He knew Grace and Flack's own folks would if she didn't think that they would view her as a failure.

Adam slipped his phone out of his back pocket, flipping it open with his thumb before selecting Flack's number from his phone book.

Don't worry, she's here asleep on the couch. I'll send her back when she wakes up. He texted the other man.

The reply was almost instantaneous.

Thanks man, she needs the break.

Adam didn't know why he had ever doubted Don Flack's ability to read his wife.

Chapter 71

Summary:

Don and Jenny have a little chat.

Chapter Text

It was the middle of the night or at least the early hours of the morning and Don was up clad in a pair of stone grey sweats and a white wife beater. His daughter was nestled in the crook of his strong arm burrowing even closer to the warmth of his body. In his firm hand was a bottle of milk he was using to feed his hungry daughter. She suckled from the teat of the bottle, chugging into the silence of the dimly lit kitchen her startling blue eyes focusing on her father.

Grace was completely out for the count in the bedroom. When he had left her she was lying flat on her stomach, face buried in the pillow. He had on purposely taken the baby monitor and put it on his side of the bed on a lower volume so he would be the recipient of all the baby's wants and desires.

"You Jenny, need to cut your mom a little slack." he told his little girl pointedly. "I know colic hurts your little tummy but sometimes your unruly and that's not nice."

Jenny pulled away from the bottle grumbling and waving her balled up fists at her father, seemingly in response to his words.

"Jenny." Don tutted, using the tea towel draped over his arm to wipe the dribble from Jenny's pert lips. "I mean it."

Jenny grumbled once more before Don popped the bottle back in in his daughter's eager mouth.

"I'm gonna take that as a promise baby." he said softly.

Don waited until Jenny had drained the bottle dry before depositing it in the sink. He manoeuvred the baby so she was propped up against his shoulder. He rubbed his hand along Jenny's back in soothing circles in attempt to wind her.

The colic seemed to have evaporated over the past few hours. For that he was relieved. After giving Jenny a bath and reading her a brightly coloured story book she had settled right down. His daughter fascinated him, every little thing she did he found himself utterly delighted by. He could spend hours watching the raise and fall of her minuscule lungs as she slept. She was a daddy's girl, Grace had said when she got back home from Adam's place looking dishevelled but refreshed.

If he was honest he could see that she had needed a break. Grace loved their daughter, he could see it in every smile she gave to Jenny, in the patience she exhibited with their daughter. Don knew his shifts didn't help, she was run down spending all this time alone with their month year old infant. Everyone loved and adored Jenny but they forgot about Grace. His wife thought of herself as an incubator for the past nine months and someone needed to let her know that wasn't the case and that her needs were important too.

He hadn't expected to be able to juggle all of this quite so successful but the truth was he enjoyed the focus it gave him and he was a natural with the baby. It was just the relationship that he was lax on recently. Being dependable was something he had been frighteningly good at before Maplin and he thought now even though he could never be completely fixed that it was time to start being that person once again.

The baby let out a small belch and somehow Don knew that the worst was over in that respect, it was time for a good night kiss and bed again.

"What a good baby you are." Don approved, carrying their daughter back towards the nursery.

The little girl was already beginning to doze off upon his shoulder. He could feel her tiny heart beat like a humming bird in her chest as he hugged her closely breathing in that fresh, baby soft smell. He kissed his daughter upon the forehead before he lay her down in the crib that he had constructed . He covered her with the pretty yellow blanket and tucked it around her small form.

"Goodnight Jenny." he whispered to their baby girl before flicking the light switch off.

Chapter 72

Summary:

Don and Grace discuss their future.

Chapter Text

Grace was laughing when Don stepped into the apartment a few days later. He had been on earlies this week which entailed him getting into work for six am and finishing at three pm. It was rare that he managed to leave on time and he was thankful that Angell had offered to do his share of the paperwork.

Hearing the sound of her musical giggle brought a smile to his features that he couldn't control. He found himself watching his wife from the kitchen as she held Jenny gently between her delicate hands close to her face. She sprinkled their daughter's face with pleasant, light kisses as Jenny cooed and wiggled her tiny feet backwards and forwards in excitement.

"Hey." Grace greeted as she rubbed noses with their daughter. "I think we're friends again."

Jenny's baby soft palms touched her mother's cheeks with curious fingers. Her wide sky blue eyes focused on Grace's grey gaze as she let out a loud noise that sounded so joyful it made both parents break into beaming grins.

Don stepped into the room as Grace rose to her feet clasping Jenny even closer to her inviting body. The baby nestled there comfortably cooing with delight as Grace approached Don craning her neck for a kiss. Don's mouth covered her own with a tenderness he wanted his wife to feel deep down inside of her. The baby grumbled between them before the two of them broke apart.

"I think she wants to say hi to daddy." Grace said, tilting Jenny so Don could take her from her arms.

Don accepted the baby and clasped her close to his chest, his finger chucking their daughter's chin as he waved her tiny fists at him.

"Hello baby girl." he greeted his daughter.

His own eyes stared back at him from their daughter's expressive features. Her lips looked like they were curving into a smile. He knew that couldn't be true, not yet anyway but by the familiar crinkle at the edge of Jenny's eyes he could tell his daughter was happy.

"Do you mind keeping an eye on her while I go out for a little while?" Grace asked Don, rubbing her hands together.

Don recognized the expression on her face and the gesture, she was excited and anxious. She was wearing pretty ballet flats, jeans and a black wife beater.

"Jo, sort of, dropped by earlier and invited me out for what she informs me is the greatest burger of all time." Grace explained to her husband, still fidgeting.

Don shook his head frowning in confusion.

"You don't have to ask me for permission." he told her quietly.

"I know, it's just you've been working all day and now I'm dumping the baby on you." Grace said, tilting her head pointedly to their daughter.

"Your not 'dumping' her on me. The two of us have a great time together don't we Jenny?" Don asked his daughter as he shifted her so she was propped up against his shoulder with her hand in her mouth. "If she could nod or talk she'd be saying 'yes' about now."

"You sure your not too tired or anything? I could stay." Grace prompted with uncertainty.

"Go." he told her firmly. "Have fun, bring me home one of these mystery burgers."

"Go easy on the onions right?" Grace checked, grasping her handbag and slinging it over her shoulders.

She placed a kiss on his cleanly shaven jaw before planting her lips upon their baby's peach-like cheek.

"Be good for daddy." Grace uttered before pulling away looking almost pained.

Don got that, leaving every day to go to work left him with an ache in his chest when he kissed his daughter goodbye. He'd heard about kids getting separation anxiety but what about the parents?

"Wave goodbye to mom." Don said, grasping his daughter's miniature wrist between his fingers and waving her fist at Grace.

"Don't forget fries." Don called after his wife as she opened the door to their apartment. "It ain't a meal without fries!"

Grace rolled her eyes light heartedly before waving goodbye to her little family.

Jo had been right, the burgers from Monroe's had been amazing. She could tell Don thought so too from the way he wolfed down his own portion she had retrieved from the diner. Grace had arrived home to find their daughter fed, bathed and down the the night and Don on the couch watching the game.

Now she was cuddled up close to his firm, sensual form. Her hand lightly tracing zig zag patterns upon his thigh through his jeans.

"You know if you didn't want to go back to work that would be ok you know?" Don started conversationally, as his fingers toyed with Grace's silky dark hair.

Grace tiled her head up to meet his eyes quizzically.

"Did that just crossed your mind or is that something you've been thinking about for a while?" she asked him curiously.

"A while." Don conceded.

"Do you want me to leave the Crime Lab?" Grace asked, straightening up to read his expression.

Don was already shaking his head in response to her question.

"I want you to do what you wanna do. I just want you to know the option is on the table." Don told her.

He reached out and smoothed a stray lock of dark hair back behind her ear.

"What about you?" she questioned sidling even closer her hand coming to rest on his heart as it beat beneath her fingertips. "What about your options?"

"That's another thing I've been thinking about." he informed her.

His large, warm hand covered hers, clasping it tightly. She could feel his insecurity in that touch. They were talking about a future the two of them had never dreamed that they would ever be thinking about. So much was on the table, too much was at stake. Their lives were patterned with the history they had lived through. Seven years and they had experienced so many pitfalls, where did they go from here? They both wanted to see their daughter grow up, to be capable parents who were there for their child but their jobs hindered the possibility of that. Yet their jobs were a matter of who they were. They didn't know how to be anybody else.

"I was thinking I could slip into an admin position, less work on the streets more paperwork." Don said with a straight face.

Grace gave him a look that clearly stated her disbelief at his words. Don rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. It had been hard for him to consider taking a back seat position, the decision weighed heavily upon his shoulders. The job was part of who he was and he would be sacrificing a part of himself by accepting the admin post but for the greater good he thought. Jenny was his heart and soul now, she was the most important person in his life. Watching her grow up with Grace was more than he could hope and dream for.

"It's for the best." Don said, testing the words on his tongue.

"It's not for you." Grace remarked pointedly.

"But it is for our daughter." Don returned. "And being a parent is all about making sacrifices."

"Not at the cost of your soul though, being on the streets is a part of who you are, you'll go crazy being behind a desk all of the time." Grace reminded him, shaking her head.

"Grace, they offered me the sergeant's position." he informed her, his hand caressing the side of her face as he spoke."It means a better salary, more paperwork, less time on the street but I want that, I want things to be a little more secure for you and our daughter."

"I just wanted to make sure that you were doing this for you not just for me and Jenny." Grace told him.

"This is all me." he said, his thumb tracing the shape of her rose pink lips.

"I want to stay at the Crime Lab." she whispered against Don's fingertips. "At least until Jenny's a little older, then maybe if the FBI Crime Lab still wants me I'll transfer there so we save for college. It'll be more science based, less field work."

"Sounds like a plan." Don told her, entwining his fingers through her hair as he drew his wife into his lap and kissed her until she was breathless.

Chapter 73

Summary:

Grace and Don witness Jenny's first smile.

Chapter Text

It was a Thursday when Grace first saw their daughter smile. They were out in the Central Park amongst the plush greenery of the area near Strawberry Fields. Don had laid down a red and white plaid picnic blanket out for their small family underneath the shade of a large tree. It was warm today and Grace had lathered Jenny in sunscreen for the brief periods of time that she may end up spending in the bright sunshine.

The brightly coloured stroller they used was folded up and propped up against the trunk. The wicker basket Don had filled with food was perched at the edge of their blanket filled with their trash from the delicious meal they had consumed. The lime green, bulging baby bag was abandoned beside the stroller containing everything that Jenny could possibly of needed on their outing. It never failed to amaze either one of them how much actual stuff came with a baby. For something so small, Jenny came with a lot of baggage.

Don was lying on his left side, he was clad in his yellow Youth Centre t-shirt and navy blue jeans, he had kicked his sneakers off and left them at the end of the blanket. His head was propped up on one arm as he reviewed his wife and daughter over the top of his aviator sunglasses. Grace was wearing a loose fitting violet cami over her own jeans. Her ballet flats looked ridiculously small and delicate beside his large shoes.

Grace was lying on her right side opposite him, her palm was splayed along their baby's back as Jenny wriggled on her stomach, rocking from side to side as she grasped handfuls of fresh grass. Watching Jenny grow over the past two months had been surprising, Grace had never been so interested in something before. Everything their child did filled them both with intrigue. They had spent hour upon hour watching their daughter's every move and whim, everything she did delighted them now that the days of colic seemed to be over.

It was the subtler things they noticed that reminded them that she was developing in leaps and bounds. She could lift her head higher now and for longer periods of times. Instead of her arms and legs reacting with awkward jerky movements, they were more fluid and mobile. Instead of simply slapping at objects that she wanted to touch, Jenny was now actively grabbing them which caused all sorts of havoc to anything within her reach.

"So we have discovered she likes the feel of grass in her hands. I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing." Grace remarked, tilting her head so she could see their baby's face.

There was daisy in between Don's fingers, the petals dancing lightly across the top of Jenny's head distracting her momentarily as the baby attempted to raise her head higher to see what game her daddy was engaging her in. He let the petals of the daisy flutter along the line of her nose before bopping the flower on the tip.

Jenny let out a coo of exhilaration as her fingertips grasped for the flower between Don's fingers. Her entire face lit up like sunshine as she received the gift and both parents felt their hearts ache just a little in their chests at the sight of their daughter's first smile.

"I never thought something so simple could be so amazing." Grace said out loud mesmerized by their daughter's dazzling smile.

"Wow. It's like a thousand watt light bulb just went off in my face." Don uttered, grinning down at his daughter.

Automatically as Don had expected the daisy he had given Jenny was on route into her mouth.

"Jenny." Don warned giving her a pointed look.

Jenny hesitated hearing the change in her father's tone as she stared at him with wide blue eyes as he shook his head trying already to teach her about body language. Grace fingers were already plucking the daisy from their daughter's fingertips and tossing it back onto the grass. Jenny stared down at her empty fist confounded by the sudden absence of the flower. She opened her fist looking for it before she started patting the blanket aimlessly.

"You've confused her now, she'd gonna get all grouchy and annoyed the same way you do." Don teased his wife before sitting up properly.

Jenny was beginning to grumble, Don picked her up in his hands drawing him closer against his heart so she could feel it's reassuring beat. Jenny patted the place where his heart resided, to Grace it looked like she was playing one handed patter cake with it. Don kissed the top of her fine dark head of hair.

It endeared Grace seeing this father, daughter interaction. She had been worried at first about the disruption an infant would cause in their lives. PTSD was never going to be easy to live with and a baby caused a lot of stress. Yet he seemed to be taking everything in his stride. Hell Don was calmer than her in most situations with the baby. He hadn't lost his temper once, in fact he made the whole parenting deal look easy.

"You know I love you right?" she said suddenly.

Don looked over their baby's shoulder, his lips pressed against their daughter's forehead as he reviewed his wife.

"I know." he told her with a trace of a smile.

"I just..." Grace paused exhaling deeply as she toyed with her wedding ring. "I haven't said that since the baby was born and I wanted you to know that I'm happy with you and Jenny."

"I didn't have any doubt about that." Don informed his wife.

"Good, I just..." she ducked her head, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "You needed to know how I feel."

"The baby doesn't change how I look at you you know?" Don said, despite the fact his gaze was hidden by his sunglasses she could feel his eyes on her intently. "Your still beautiful, attractive, stunning. I thank God every day that you gave her to me and that your here to raise her."

Grace ran a hand through her shoulder length dark hair before breaking into a contented smile at her husband's words.

"Thank you."

Chapter 74

Summary:

Don & Grace reconnect.

Chapter Text

Don's steady, warm hands were skating over his wife's porcelain flesh as she stood before him so superbly exposed in a open, peach shirt of his and a pair of tiny black panties. Don was sitting on the edge of their bed looking up at her as her silky dark hair fell across those expressive delicate features. His fingertips were gliding up along the length of her lean thighs causing her to shiver at the temperature of his touch as his fingers traced the pattern of the panties that hugged her pert ass.

His hands entwined in the fluttering shirt, twisting into fists as he gripped the material and tugged her down into his lap. Her smooth thighs parted on either side of his powerful hips as she complied with his unspoken request. He kissed her ravenously, like a man dying of hunger as his desire ate him up from the inside. It had been so long since they had had the opportunity to be so thoughtless and he let the passion consume him as his hands caressed Grace's sensual form. His strokes were tender and laced with pleasurable heat that felt like sheer bliss upon her cool skin. Her fingers were drawing his grey t-shirt up and over his head before she dipped her head, capturing his mouth as she rained slow, breathless kisses upon it.

The skin on skin contact was glorious as the swell of her naked breasts pressed against his firm, scarred chest. Her nipples were erect with arousal, making him groan into the curve of her throat as his teeth grazed that sweet little soft spot just underneath his wife's ear. It drove her into a frenzy as his strong right arm encircled her waist clasping her even closer as he arched his throbbing erection towards her soaking wet core, rubbing the material of his jeans along her moist panties. The friction felt delicious as it granted him barely a second of relief as Grace made that dynamic, low whimpering noise he enjoyed so much.

Don's hot mouth enclosed on her pert bare nipple, his molten tongue flicking over the yearning bud as he drew it into the heated confines of his mouth. The ragged gasp that tore from her throat was a crescendo in his ears as she began to writhe against his lower body stimulating his aching cock through the rough denim material of his jeans. He nuzzled the space between her breasts, using his thumbs to gently tease the outline of her nipple before his mouth enclosed on the opposite nub. Grace's fingers threaded through his fine, dark hair as he sucked it into his mouth, swirling his tongue over and over the sensitive area.

Don's hands were already sliding down her curvaceous frame to the thin band of her panties. His eager fingers hooked them as he began to draw them down her long lean legs. Grace drew away reluctantly so he could remove them completely before she stepped out of them.

Grace stood before him once more like a goddess in his eyes, she was both radiant and beautiful to him and that could never change. He watched her grey eyes brighten with arousal as he flicked the button of his jeans open with his thumb before drawing the the zipper all the way down with tantalisingly slow movements over his demanding erection. He pressed the foil packet into his wife's hand as he yanked off his jeans and underwear leaving himself naked under her smouldering gaze.

Grace took it from his hands, tearing it impatiently between her fingertips before removing the condom from it's packaging and tossing the wrapper onto the floor. Don held himself at the base ready for the application before his wife began to roll it down his glistening member. He arched into the latex sheath at the feel of her skilled hands on his sensitive, wanting skin.

Grace smiled adoringly as Don reached out with his fingertips and smoothed the hair away from her eyes as she released his captive member from her playful hands. She knew what she was doing to him when she touched him like that and she enjoyed having that brief, fleeting moment of power over him.

She was still wearing his peach coloured shirt when she slid into his lap yet again, his hands were roaming underneath the sweeping material, touching and stroking every inch of her stunning porcelain flesh as their lips met once more. Her tongue parted his lips, exploring the inside of his mouth as Grace sank down slowly along the length of his needy cock.

He bit her lip lightly as she took him inch by antagonizing inch. Her tightness hugged his dick from all sides drowning him in the sensation as she withdrew from him again before thrusting down with the same tedious pace. Don's hands were on her, clasping her to him and groaning into her skin as her hands came to rest upon his strong shoulders for leverage. She moved just a little bit faster, picking up the pace just enough to keep him wavering on the edge as she made love to him.

Already his lower back was tingling, the base of his cock was beginning to pulse and hum with pleasure at his impending orgasm. She knew already that he was close and that excited her even more. Her inner walls were already contracting around him as he kissed her harder almost bruising her lips with the force of the ecstasy that was exploding like fire works thorough every single nerve in his body. His arms were wrapped around her waist and back, holding her so close he could feel every breath she took as she smothered the cries erupting from his mouth with her own.

The orgasm was intense, he could feel his whole body giving itself over to her as she came so suddenly it surprised him. Her muscles clenched around his dick like a tight, velvet fist draining him of everything that he was worth as he exploded inside of her lithe body. His hips jerked as chanted her name against her soft pink lips. Her heart was beating against his as they began to come down from the dizzying heights of their climax. He felt so whole when they were like this, the two of them were both meant to be here in this moment, two half of the same soul or two thirds if he counted Jenny.

They didn't move, he could sense her reluctance to part and it was mirrored in his own actions as he kissed her pale skin once more. They were connected right now, the bond resided there in the physical space between them. There was nothing to worry about in the shelter of her arms, no fear, no pain no darkness. There was just her, and in turn, them.

She kissed him sweetly, her mouth exploratory and lazy as her hands chased up the scars of his chest touching him with revered fingertips. She was in awe of him at the moment, he didn't know how he knew that but he was aware that it was true from her light, praising touches. This was a dance where no words were needed because they were communicating on a much deeper level.

Loving Grace was easy, she fitted Don in ways that he could never have imagined possible. She had given him everything he could ever dreamed of and more and she knew it. She knew how he felt and he marvelled in that, just like he knew how she was feeling right now.

Love you, he told her wordlessly as his forehead head came to rest against hers so he could see into that beautiful grey gaze.

His hand cupped her face, his thumb tracing along her cheek bone as a smile curved across her pert mouth before she pressed her lips to his once more.

Love you too.

Chapter 75

Summary:

Don tells Mac about his plans going forward.

Chapter Text

It was eight thirty in the morning and Don was sitting in the Wakefield Diner across from the courthouse in one of the corner booths sipping from a mug of coffee as he awaited his order of pancakes and bacon. Wakefield Diner had replaced the Tilbrey Diner after the whole ordeal with Connor Dunbrook, the place had had an overhaul on the insurance money from the event. He knew that people still questioned why he came here, this was the place his wife had been shot and he had cradled her in his arms as they tried to stabilise her.

The reason Don came here was the challenge. Being here, in this place without a shred of anxiety was cathartic to him, it was another step on his road to recovery. He was stripping away each layer of fear and oppression. Ever since Jenny had arrived in his life, he had found himself living to his full potential. He couldn't afford to be gripped by the terror that had once plagued his footsteps, his baby, he was sure would pick up on that agitation. He had read somewhere that babies were sensitive to their parents emotions and Don found himself wanting to counteract any negativeness he may be sending Jenny's way. Her view on the world shouldn't be tainted by his own, he was determined that she would grow up happy and content forging her own path.

The familiar bell jingled as the door to the diner opened once more. He found himself looking up as Mac Taylor entered. Don waved his hand in greeting as the other man held up a finger to indicate that he had seen his friend before speaking to the waitress.

Friend, it was how Don had come to see the other man over the years. There were other words he associated with Mac Taylor, mentor, strong, hard ass, all of them were traits that Don admired. He was glad that the other man was there watching over them all.

"You know some people would find the fact we're meeting here somewhat morbid." Mac said as he lowered himself down into the seat across from Don.

"Other people would assume it's an act of defiance on my part. It's a building right?" Don stated with a shrug of his shoulders. "I ain't scared of no building."

Mac chuckled at the courage that the other man was exhibiting, Don had been taking baby steps over the past year. He was nowhere near the same person he used to be but that was to be expected. People changed all of the time and Mac liked this version of Don Flack, there was more depth to him. During the depression Mac had wondered if he would ever see the other man smile again, now he was witnessing that child like grin once more as the waitress set down his stack of pancakes and Mac's coffee.

"How's Grace and Jenny? I heard from Jo that she's just started sleeping through the night, that must be a weight off your shoulders." Mac said as taking in to account the lack of exhaustion in the other man's features.

"She wakes up a few times for a feed but it's nothing like it used to be." Don confided withdrawing his wallet and holding it open before Mac took it from his hands.

The picture in there made Mac break into a smile as he studied it. It was a picture of Jenny and Grace together on the sofa, the baby's face was like looking at a ball of sunshine as she grinned at the camera, waving her tiny fists. Her back was nestled against Grace's chest as her mother pointed at the camera, her lips brushing the side of Jenny's dark head of fine hair.

"It's my favourite." Don informed the other man, taking a bite out of his pancakes.

"They look happy." Mac said as he closed the wallet and slid it back towards Don. "You look happy."

"They are." Don responded, taking a sip from his coffee cup before correcting himself. "We are."

"So why'd you call me down here? Don't tell me it's because they make amazing pancakes." Mac stated gesturing towards Don's plate.

"That's one way to put it." Don said, picking up his napkin and wiping at his mouth before fixing Mac with his vibrant blue gaze. "Is your friend's house still on the market?"

Mac's eyebrows creased as he reviewed the other man over his coffee cup.

"Yes it is." Mac told him curiously. "Are the two of you thinking about moving?"

Don pushed his plate away, his gaze straying to the courthouse on the opposite side of the glass. He had spent his life in New York City, running up and down those steps on the side of the prosecution and a few times on the defence. He was wondering whether this was worth it. It had been said for every year a person was a cop their lives were cut short by two. Don had been on the force fifteen years. He could never imagine doing anything else but maybe doing it somewhere else was the key to his conundrum. Too many times lately he had found himself contemplating the ordeals he had endured over the years due to his job. He wanted to be around for his daughter's birthdays and Christmas's, he wanted to grow old with his wife, maybe have a couple more kids.

"Nassau County has a position available in their Homicide Squad." Don found himself telling Mac as he toyed with the silver wedding band on his finger. "It's just outside of the city, it has an excellent property market, good schools..."

"That sounds like it's already a done deal." Mac said leaning back in his seat as he studied the younger man.

Don wrapped his hands around his coffee cup as a small smile crossed his lips.

"I haven't spoken to Grace yet, she's had a lot on her mind going back to work and this job offer she's had from the university." Don mentioned, rubbing the back of his head.

"We've had a discussion or two about that. It's a good job, a safe one." Mac said knowingly. "The hours will be good for Jenny, she'll be home more regularly."

"It's hard for her, she's been in the field for so long taking a back seat makes her feel out of her depth." Don explained. "Our lives are constantly changing and I think she feels like she's not sure if she'd doing this for her or of she'd doing this for Jenny."

"If there's one thing I've learned over the years." Mac said leaning forward on his elbows as he met the younger man's gaze. "It's you've got to do what's right for you at the time. The two of you are parents now, your priorities have changed."

Don rubbed his hand across his stubble before speaking honestly.

"What really changed the game for me was last week." he confided. "I kissed my wife and daughter goodbye in the morning and then got shot at by El Puno. I swear Mac, the moments after that I gotta wonder if it's time to step into something or somewhere a lot less dangerous. I was lucky that time, so God damned lucky."

"There's no shame in wanting to be there to watch your daughter grow up and I think you of all people deserve to have some peace." Mac murmured as he tapped his coffee cup indicating for a refill to the waitress.

"Peace?" Don chuckled into the recesses of his own coffee cup. "I'm not sure I know the meaning of the word any more."

Mac let his lips twitch with the beginning of a budding smile as he spoke.

"Maybe it's time to learn."

Chapter 76

Summary:

Three years later

Chapter Text

It was seven o'clock in the evening and Don was enjoying a little one on one father, son time with the four month old infant kicking his tiny feet in the luke warm bath water. Don used his hand to splash the water lightly over his son's nude body as he garbled and waved his tiny fists contently in the small baby bath. His son's shocking flock of fine black hair seemed to run in the family, Don thought as Grace's intense grey eyes stared back at him. He had never thought they'd have another baby. They had decided after having Jenny that one was a handful enough. So much came with having a child, they were wonderful bundles of time and energy consuming joy.

And then his wife had discovered she was pregnant again with their baby boy due to the antibiotics she'd been taking to ward off a chest infection. They hadn't thought at the time, although Don thought they probably should have learned their lesson about their own fertility since their previous happy mistake the first time around. It had never crossed their minds.

Now he was bathing Patrick Nicholas Flack while Grace read a story book to their three year old daughter in the other room. He was surprised by how fast the time had gone by, it seemed like only yesterday he was bathing Jenny as a newborn in a similar bathtub. Things had changed so much in that time it was unbelievable. The two of them were owners of a lovely, spacious, three bedroomed house in Nassau county, with a garden that boasted a swing set for their daughter and eventually their son to play in.

Grace had taken the job as a Lecturer at the university, her classes were popular for the 'live' cases she required each student to undertake in a bid to put their skill sets to work. Not to mention the interesting guest speakers she had in order to aid the student learning and development within the field of Forensics.

In the past three years his own skills had been utilised and he had received a promotion to Lieutenant after solving several cold cases and apprehending a felon who had been at large in the community for over a decade. He missed the hustle and bustle of the NYPD, there was something to be said about working so tirelessly on a case that you put your heart and soul into it. Yet here he felt like he could see the difference he was making and that gave him a sense of achievement that rivalled no other. He would always be a cop, it was in his blood.

"Come on buddy, I know you love being a water baby but it's time to get you into a dry towel so you can get some sleep." Don told his son as he lifted the baby boy out of the baby bath and placed him on the warm, soft towel he had placed upon the floor.

With practised hands he wrapped the infant up in the towel and began to pat him dry with gentle motions. Patrick wriggled within the confines of the towel staring at the swinging silver sovereign of St Michael that had escaped the neckline of Don's wife beater.

Grace had returned it when she'd switched jobs. She'd silenced his protest with a soft lingering kiss upon his mouth after draping it around his neck, reminding him he was the one that needed it more now.

Patrick's small fists opened and closed as he groped for his father's necklace as it dangled just out of reach. They had played this game over the past few nights as Don dried his son and the baby never seemed to tire of it. He opened the towel briefly, fitting on the snug white diaper with care whilst Patrick remained distracted. It was so much easier to cloth the baby when he wasn't trying to constantly fight against it.

In the way that Jenny had been a happy, bouncing baby who loved the feel of various textures on her skin. Patrick was more the type that preferred to be naked, or Don assumed that considering he seemed to pee with excitement every time he felt the fresh air upon his skin. Don had taken to stripping off his button up shirt and simply attending to Patrick in his wife beater instead. The baby seemed to enjoy the contact more and burrowed closer whenever he was held close to his father's chest.

Thankfully Patrick was a heavier sleeper than Jenny had been. Don didn't know whether it was the lack of colic or just the fact their jobs were more routine now but there wasn't as much stress with the infant. However with the two kids together, that was a different story.

Grace had worked some wonders smoothing things over with Jenny. The entire way through her pregnancy their daughter had been mesmerized by her mother's growing stomach. Grace had engaged her in the pregnancy as much as she could. The two of them would spent their evenings reading from Jenny's favourite storybooks to the baby before bedtime. When the baby had started kicking Grace had placed their little girl's hand upon her swollen tummy and told her that this was the baby's way of trying to say 'hi' to its sister.

After the baby had been born, it had seemingly become a contest between the two to see who could get their attention first. During the first month they had divide and conquered, switching roles constantly in order to please both of their children until he'd done some reading up on the subject and relayed the information to Grace.

They had been working on getting the pair to bond over the past month by having Jenny kissing her brother good night and conducting one or two of the formula feeds under Grace's watchful eye. It seemed to be working, Jenny had taken to trying to give her brother several of her cuddly toys recently and once some of her crayons. Don had explained to his daughter that the baby was too young for crayons but he was sure Patrick appreciated the gesture.

It took him a few minutes to manoeuvre Patrick's tiny limbs in to the pastel green baby grow before he fastened the popper buttons. He picked up the baby boy and clasped him in a sitting position so Patrick's chest was pressing against his. He felt infant's minuscule hand patting against his heart before scrunching up the materiel of his wife beater in his small fist. Don's thumb smoothed over the back of his son's head as he planted a feather light kiss on the infant's temple, inhaling that baby sweet scent.

Everything Don Flack could have wanted was in this house and he thanked God everyday for these precious gifts.


Grace was barely awake when Don crawled into bed along side her. The baby monitor was already switched on and placed on her night stand so she could hear the even breathing of the baby. Listening to the soothing sounds of Don's voice as he talked to their baby had almost lulled her to sleep like it had on so many other nights. Grace propped her head up on the pillow as Don settled onto his back with a contented sigh.

Her delicate hand came to rest upon his firm stomach as she smoothed up and down the ridges of his muscular structure through his white wife beater. Don's large palm rubbed up and down her forearm, his thumb tracing up and down the soft skin of her underarm as he stared into her intense grey eyes.

He loved the way she looked at him, he could see the adoration and love shining in her gaze as he watched a slow smile curve across her lips. For Grace these past few years had been a blessing not only upon the two of them but on their friends and family as well.

Tomorrow was their day off and they were hosting a barbecue for their friends and family. Over the past few months there had been barely been any time for them to visit any of their friends in the City. Juggling Patrick and Jenny on top of their jobs was keeping the two of them very busy.

Adam had been over a few nights ago to play with his god daughter and to visit the new baby. He was a dab hand with children these days, Grace wondered whether him and Beth would be having their own babies any time soon. The two of them had been married over a year now and Grace had never seen Adam as happy as he was with Beth.

"What are you thinking about?" Don asked his wife, his fingers interlacing with hers.

Grace shifted closer so that her lithe, tired body snuggled in against his side. Her legs entwined with his as her head came to rest upon his shoulder. Her silky dark hair tickled his skin as he pressed a butterfly kiss to her forehead.

"You, me, the babies and how I wouldn't change this for the world." Grace murmured, guiding their interlocked hands upwards until their hands came to rest above his heart.

She could feel his steady heart beating underneath her fingertips as she closed her eyes seeking the strength and comfort of their connection underneath the surface. Don chuckled out loud as her head tilted upwards, her lips brushing across the curve of his jaw before she settled in the crook of his neck.

"No regrets?" Don murmured as his fingers combed through his wife's silky hair before Grace answered with an honesty that Don felt resounded deep within his soul.

"No regrets."