Disclaimer: I don't own CSI:NY.
Series: None.
Spoilers: Mentions of Summer in the City.
Note: I don't know if NYPD uniforms include skirts or not, but, for the purposes of this fic, they do.
Chapter One
It had been a long, hot day in Jersey City and Officer Jessica Angell was getting increasingly uncomfortable.
There was no air in the bullpen and she'd roast alive before she risked using the showers in the locker-room. Her uniform clung to her like a second skin and she pulled her hair up into a twist to keep it off the back of her neck, leaving behind several strands that remained plastered in place.
To top it off, she'd yet to go out on the beat today, so she hadn't even had a reprieve from the hell she was currently trapped in, strengthening her believe that her captain had it in for her.
A soft beep came from her computer and she opened her inbox to see that the message had been forwarded from the central system; it had been sent to the department as a whole, not her personally.
She opened it anyway, knowing that no one else would bother.
To: Anyone who can be bothered to read this over at NJPD.
From: A very pissed off homicide detective
RE: Am I the only sane person left on this planet?
Message:
Right, kiddies, I'm gonna try this one last time, because if I have to start making phone calls, no one's gonna be happy, least of all me, because it's 103 in this city today and everyone's gone crazy enough without me needing to waste my time and yours repeating a request made TEN DAYS ago.
Pauline Stockburn was shot dead in Central Park two weeks ago and DNA at the crime scene had a case-to-case hit with one of yours, reference #238.
So, in the spirit of inter-state cooperation, would you please send the details as soon as possible?
Detective Don Flack (Jr).
Though her sympathies lay with the detective, Jess couldn't help sniggering before picking up the phone.
Detective Don Flack (Jr) was currently contemplating beating his head against the nearest wall. He was sure it would cause less pain and irritation than the heat did, especially heat combined with a city full of nut-jobs.
A soft noise from his computer made him groan, sure that whatever it was would make more work for him.
But the message he opened made him grin appreciatively.
To: Detective Don Flack (Jr).
From: An overheated Jersey City uniform officer.
RE: I ask myself that every day.
Message:
In the spirit of inter-state cooperation, would you please direct your attention to the attachment and I can assure you that the physical evidence will arrive forthwith.
I would also like to point out, Detective, that it is 104 over here and I am stuck in a uniform while you can wear what you want.
Try and aim some of that frustration at the crazies you're dealing with and you might have better luck.
Officer Jessica Angell
To: Officer Angell.
From: Detective Flack.
RE: Thank me later.
Message:
This is me resisting the urge to give you the 'angels falling from heaven' line.
Listen, our female officers are using this cutting edge technology to keep cool in the summer; they're called skirts.
And I'm sorry you had to deal with my rant earlier; it's been a pretty bad day. Thanks for coming through anyway; I owe you one.
Don Flack
To: Don Flack.
From: Officer Angell.
RE: Brave women.
Message:
Wait, the women you work with actually feel comfortable wearing skirts to work? Any chance of a transfer?
Seriously, I have enough trouble making my colleagues respect me as a cop without wearing a skirt and reminding them that, yes, I am a woman.
And you don't owe me anything. Unless you can somehow convince my father that I can do this job and that I'm not a waste of space just for being born female …
Bitter? Me? No, of course not.
Jessica Angell
There had been no reply to her last email, but Jess hadn't been expecting one; that he had replied at all had surprised her. She didn't need to run his name to know who he was; their fathers had worked together briefly and Cliff Angell had nothing but good to say about Donald Flack Sr., aside from when he was complaining that none of his boys ever followed in his footsteps.
She got home that evening to a dark apartment that was only slightly cooler than the precinct. After taking a cold shower, she changed into a thin cotton nightdress (practicality over sexy, she reasoned; it wasn't like anyone was going to see her in it) and settled down on her couch with a book.
Her phone rang and she groaned, retrieving it from her pocket. "Angell?"
It kept ringing and she shook her head, making a mental note to change her ring-tone as she found her home phone and answered that instead. "Hello?"
"Hi. Officer Angell?"
"Yes …" Jess answered slowly.
He chuckled. "Oh good. I kinda went through some underground channels to get this number and I wasn't sure it was right or not. Figured I'd call in person and tell you that you can do this job."
Jess sat down again. "Detective Flack?"
"Don." He corrected. "It's okay that I called, right?"
Jess felt a smile cross her face. "Yeah, of course. I was just a bit surprised. Although I think I said it was my father who had the problem."
"You did." Don agreed. "But finding his number's like breaking into Fort freakin' Knox, whereas yours was relatively easy to get hold of."
"I see." Jess leaned back, wondering vaguely why it was so easy chatting with someone she'd never met or talked to before. "And you went through all this trouble just to tell me I can do this job … and you'd know this how?"
"Well, if I'm honest, it's also because you seem to be the only other cop I've come across with an ounce of sanity left." Don admitted. "And I may have checked your service file; you wanna tell me why you're still a uni with your record?"
"Captain hates me." Jess frowned in confusion. "And what record? I get stuck with the grunt work round here."
"You must be pretty damn amazing at your job then." Don stated. "Because you're top of the promotion ladder."
Jess's jaw dropped and she was silent for a few minutes.
"Jessica?"
"Jess." She corrected absently. "Exactly how much do you know about me?"
"Aside from that?" Don asked. "Your father was a detective sergeant at Jersey PD; your mother was a stay-at-home mom. You've got four brothers, between eleven and two years older than you. You're 23 years old; graduated the Academy in 2002, top of your class …"
"Alright." Jess interrupted. "What don't you know about me?"
"I don't know whether you're creeped out by this or not." Don admitted. "And I've got no idea what you look like. You're either a vampire or the least camera-friendly person in the world."
Jess sniggered. "Well, I can see my reflection, so I'm obviously not a vampire; you're telling me you haven't even found a service photo? And I'm not creeped out; just at a slight disadvantage."
"Oh, I could find a service photo." Don told her, his grin evident in his voice. "But I like a bit of mystery in my life; that's why I became a cop in the first place. That is, if you don't mind if I keep calling you."
Jess smiled. "I don't mind at all. Just be warned that by your next call, we'll be on even footing."
Don chuckled. "I don't doubt that."
"So, Detective," Jess hooked her legs over the arm rest, lying back on the couch, "is New York as crazy as they say it is."
"You have no idea." Don informed her.
"I know." Jess grinned. "That's why I asked."
"We got on scene today; this guy had fallen from the Empire State Building …" Don began.
Jess listened in interest and amusement as he told her the twists and turns the case had taken. She'd never been one for cyber or phone relationships; she'd seen too many victims who had met their killers online, only to find out that they weren't who they said they were.
But this was different; she knew Don Flack was a cop and, besides, it was just conversation. It wasn't going to become any more than that.
Was it?
AN: I'm going away for a week without internet and not even a ghost of a chance of Wi-Fi, so this won't be updated for a while. Just wanted to get the first chapter up now. Review please!