A/N: It's been a long while since I've written any CSI:NY, but as Bon Jovi likes to sing, "who says you can't go home?" :D

This one's set any time in about the second half of season 5, and is a challenge piece written for the Fanfiction Critique Group with these required elements:

1. The lyrics "May this confession be the start" and "who'd have thought that love could be so good".

2. A fight

3. A secret

4. The phrase "I just don't know"

Don exited the double doors and slowly made his way to his waiting SUV. Seating himself behind the wheel, he sat for several long moments staring at the building he had just exited. What am I doing? What if Jess finds out?

He sighed heavily, his conscience prickling at what he'd done. It wasn't right, he knew, but he couldn't seem to help himself. Sliding his notepad out from the inner pocket of his jacket, he decided the right thing—though perhaps not the smart thing—was to tell her what had happened, who he'd been with.

Jess,

I don't exactly know how to say this, so I'm just going to say it. And in the illustrious words of Heather Headley "may this confession be the start", hopefully of something good for all of us.

I'm in love with another woman, Jessica. I'm sitting outside her building right now and I can't stop thinking about her. I remember very clearly the promises we made to each other, but I couldn't help myself—I needed to see her. The way she cuddles with me, the way she kisses me, those big brown eyes looking up at me like I'm her hero…who'd have thought that love could be so good?

I'm bringing her home tonight after my tour, and I'd really like for the two of you to be friends. So if you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I'll be waiting at my place with pizza and a movie for the three of us. You're going to love her, Jess, if you just give her a chance.

Don

Frowning at the page, he tore it from his pad and folded it up, tucking it safely into his wallet for the drive over to the precinct. Glancing at the clock on the dashboard he cursed under his breath. Great, now I'm gonna be late for work, too!

———

Jessica's eyes met Don's as he strode toward her desk and her smile lit up the room. "Hey, I thought you were on at eight this morning."

"I was," he admitted, checking his watch as though he hadn't kept one eye on the clock the whole drive over. "I, uh, had to make a stop before I came in this morning."

She saw the unease in his face, heard it in his voice. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," he answered quickly. Too quickly, he chastised himself. She's gonna figure it out. "Everything's fine. I just, uh…need to get on my horse here and get some things done before the Lieutenant realizes I came in half an hour late."

"Okay," she replied, reaching up to rub his shoulder, disguising the move by plucking a blond hair from his jacket.

He turned to go, but stopped halfway around and fished out his wallet. Handing over his confession letter, he could barely look her in the eye. "Here," he practically grunted, trying to keep his voice even, his expression neutral. "Read it when you get a minute to yourself."

Jessica took the note from him with a perplexed expression, wondering what it was that Don couldn't tell her at work. A subtle smile formed on her lips as her eyes followed him out the door while her mind ran though the list of inappropriate on-duty conversations. If it's a booty call, he's sure got some nerve handing me a little piece of paper. And this isn't junior high; if he has something to say to me, he should be able to tell me in person. If it's a love letter, he's going to have to work on expressing himself—this is awfully short.

She sprinted through the next several hours of her day, on the hunt for two of New York City's less-than-upstanding citizens in a race to find a missing child. It wasn't until the little boy was found—safe and sound, asleep in the basement of his own building—that she had a chance to grab a bite to eat. Extracting a five from her back pocket, she rediscovered Don's note and took it, along with her hot dog, to a park bench for a brief respite. She took a decidedly unladylike bite of her lunch and unfolded the lined paper, making a concerted effort not to drip mustard all over it.

As her eyes scanned the page, and she tried to comprehend the words he'd penned that morning, her rest in the park became increasingly restless. That's why he was late! But why would he do that? And now he wants me to just accept her?

———

She confronted him that evening, waiting until long after he'd arrived home to climb the stairs to his apartment and knock on the door. She heard rustling noises inside, heard them pause while Don presumably looked out the peephole, and met his gaze confidently when he slipped into the hallway, shutting the door carefully behind him.

"Hey," he greeted her, forcing a smile.

She cut right to the chase. "I can't believe you did this, Don."

"Jess—"

"You promised me," she interrupted, folding her arms across her chest.

"I know," he responded, chagrined. "I just—"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "—couldn't help yourself. Yeah, I read the note." Shifting her hands to her hips, she asked, "How long has this been going on?"

"Just this one time, I swear," he answered speedily. "And I feel really bad about keeping it from you…I was trying to do the right thing by telling you…"

She frowned, pooching out her lips a little in an almost-pout. "You couldn't wait for me to go with you?"

"I wanted to," he explained. "I just went over there for a quick look, but things…got a little carried away. She's just so beautiful, and really sweet. It took her a minute to warm up to me, but when she did she was all over me."

"That explains the hair I found on your jacket his morning. Is that why you quoted Aida in your note?" Jessica pressed. "Because of her?"

Don's eyebrows drew together in momentary confusion. "We watched it together, last week…you 'n me, I mean."

She shook her head. "You didn't watch that with me—I'm not into musicals. If it weren't for my neighbor singing that damn song in the shower every morning I wouldn't have even recognized it." He opened his mouth to respond but no words came, so they stood in awkward silence until Jessica spoke again, gesturing with one hand. "She in there?"

"Yeah," he answered slowly. "Sleeping."

"In your bed, I suppose," she countered disdainfully.

He sighed. "Where else is she gonna sleep, Jess?"

"How 'bout on the floor, where she belongs?"

He shook his head adamantly. "You didn't see her face. She just wants to be loved, and if sleeping in my bed gives her that feeling, then she sleeps in my bed."

She recognized the stubborn set of his features and knew it was pointless to argue. "Alright, then. Let's see her."

Putting a finger to his lips, Don quietly opened the door and led Jessica to his bedroom, affection overtaking the anxiety on his face as his eyes fell on the snoring form tangled in his sheets. "Her name's Anouk," he whispered, "but she likes to be called Annie. She's about five years old and part Alaskan Malamute, part German Shepherd, and probably part something else—they weren't exactly sure at the animal shelter."

"She's gonna be a shedder," Jessica warned gently. "What about your allergies?"

"Only cats, remember?" he smiled. "I'm okay around dogs."

"Yeah, but still, she shouldn't be in your bed, Don," she protested mildly. "You'll have fur everywhere."

He slid an arm around his girlfriend and pulled her against him. "You're probably right, but who can say no to such a gorgeous girl? She's had a hard life, and I want her to feel spoiled from now on. She deserves that."

Jessica leaned against Don, her eyes traveling over the parts of Annie that weren't covered by the sheets, taking in the chunks missing from the dog's left ear, the scar on her snout, the thinness of her body, the way she lay curled up tightly as if to protect herself. Sighing softly, Jessica relinquished her irritation with her boyfriend. I have to admit, he did a good thing today. "Yeah, she does."

"And you're not mad at me?" he queried optimistically.

His blue eyes twinkled down at her and she found it impossible not to grin in response. "We should have picked out our dog together," she reminded him reproachfully, "but I think I'll get over it. What worries me is this fetish you seem to have for show tunes. How long have you kept that from me?"

"I just…don't know how to answer that," he told her honestly. Then, changing the subject, "Look—she's wakin' up!"

Jessica chuckled, watching the big dog stand and stretch, loose fur falling off her as she regarded the pair curiously. "Can I pet her?"

"Yeah," Don nodded. "Just, y'know, go slow with her 'til she gets to know you."

The dog cowered a bit as Jessica approached her, so the detective opted to take a seat at the end of the bed and allow Annie to come to her. Tentatively, her black nose quivering as she tried to sniff from a distance, the newest member of the Flack household crept forward to inspect her visitor. Jessica remained still so as not to spook the pooch until Annie had concluded her examination, then slowly offered a hand. Annie investigated the extremity carefully before allowing it to touch her, but relaxed visibly when Jessica began to scratch one of her ears.

From the doorway, Don smiled broadly. "I knew you two'd get along."

"We'd be even better if you brought in some of that pizza you promised," Jessica quipped, working her fingers down Annie's neck.

His smile grew in direct proportion to his affection for the girls on his bed. "Comin' right up."