Fandom: CSI/CSI: NY
Title: The Desert in April (9/?)
Author: radrcks
Category: Crossover, drama, suspense, mystery, slash
Spoilers: Everything up through season 5 of CSI and season 1 of CSI: NY.
Rating: R
Pairings: Don Flack/Greg Sanders
Summary: The news that his sister has been hospitalized sends Don Flack to Las Vegas. And what happens in Vegas, may keep him there forever.
Author’s Notes: Basically this is my first attempt at a CSI fic so please let me know what you think. Also I think this is the first appearance of this particular ship. Special thanks to rivensky for not killing my plot bunnies, and for force feeding certain ones when I wanted them to die. Oh yeah, and the veiled threats. ;) Actually this time I owe rivensky big. There wouldn’t have been a chapter 8 if it wasn’t for her. She helped with one scene in particular, and it really mattered because with out the scene I couldn’t have progressed the story.


Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight




The Desert in April

Chapter Nine



Nick had spent the rest of the afternoon combing through the file on Andrea’s case and the crime scene photographs Sara had taken. His shift had ended four hours ago and he was exhausted. He had only met Don Flack briefly, and his encounters hadn’t been favorable. Greg was one of his closest friends and he would do anything for him, but that didn’t mean Nick had to like Don for Greg’s sake.

Nick tried to remain objective but his personal feelings kept getting in the way. The Reynolds’ case kept bringing up memories of Kristy Hopkins. Even though he knew he wasn’t the one who murdered Kristy it didn’t change the feeling of panic he had at the time. All the evidence pointed to him being guilty. Don’s situation was similar, and Nick knew that he wouldn’t want anyone to have to go through what he had to endure. Even if he didn’t like the man.

The file hadn’t said anything about any type of food that looked as if it could be out of place in the house. The photographs turned out to be a bust also. There were empty plates in the dining room, but no traces of food.

“If you keep pulling double shifts people might start getting us confused.”

Nick smirked. “And why aren’t you going home while you still have the chance?”

Sara stood behind Nick glancing at the photographs over his shoulder. “You should know by now how territorial I am. When someone I work with comes up to me saying they need everything I have on a particular case I’m not going to just sit around and twiddle my thumbs. What’s up?”

“Andrea Reynolds’ husband was found dead in an ally, partly hidden by a dumpster.”

“You think it was her brother?”

“What makes you say that?”

“Greg, Brass and I were there when Flack and Reynolds had an… altercation.”

“Unfortunately after Reynolds left the precinct he wasn’t seen again until his body was discovered.”

“So the last time anyone saw him alive just happens to be when he had the fight with Flack.” Sara began thumbing through a nearby stack of photos.

“I spoke with Andrea and she said that she ordered dinner that night.”

“Well there wasn’t any food set out, or any signs pointing to the two of them having already eaten.”

“Have you gotten anything back on who called it in? Andrea’s insisting she didn’t call 911.”

“We found her cell phone next to her, and it was the phone that called 911. The only prints we could make out were Andrea’s. It’s possible that someone called it in and left the phone on the ground. The pooling of blood on the carpet indicated that she tried to move after her attack. She could have inadvertently destroyed any prints prior to her last contact with the phone.”

“She said the food hadn’t come yet, so it’s possible that whoever delivered the food also called 911. Then the question becomes why didn’t the delivery person stop Reynolds? Why wait until after he left to call 911?”

“There could be a number of reasons. Reynolds could have overpowered the delivery person, or they could have gotten there too late.”

“Wait a second. We’re assuming that the delivery person was an adult. What if we’re wrong? Most college kids take whatever job they can get a hold of.”

“And age aside most people tend to freeze up when they’re witnessing something like that in real life.”

“That’s it. Chances are if he didn’t run in and stop Reynolds he would have hidden himself somewhere outside of the house where he wouldn’t easily be seen when Reynolds left.” Nick practically jumped out of his chair. “Thanks.” He grabbed his jacket and left the lab.

“You’re welcome.” Sara said in a raised voice.

Nick stuck his head back into the room. “Can you clean that up for me?” Sara shot him a dirty look. Nick only smiled and briefly waved a more proper goodbye.


------------------------------------


Nick had tried to explain the situation to Brass on the ride to the Reynolds’ home but he was doubtful that Brass thought it was anything more than grasping at straws. The fact that both Nick and Brass were working the case made things complicated, to say the least. Both of them had been in the same position as Don before, and it was common knowledge that Brass would do anything to protect his daughter. Of course that happened to put them in a very small category. They both were possibly the best choice for working the case, however their life experience also made them the worst choice. Nick was sure of two things: that somehow Greg had orchestrated the entire thing; and that when the Reynolds’ cases were both closed Greg would owe him big.

“Just between us Nicky, I don’t think you spending the day on your hands and knees combing the perimeter of the house is the best way to use your time.”

“Right now all I have to go on is that Det. Flack had a very public encounter with the victim. Add in the fact that Mrs. Reynolds was expecting at least one person besides her husband to come to the house; and a male, whose voice didn’t belong to her husband was the one who called 911.”

“That still doesn’t link the two crimes.”

“No, but it’s more to go on than I had an hour ago.”

Brass pulled on a pair of gloves and began picking through the trashcan, looking for anything that looked like a recent addition. “You think Flack’s innocent don’t you?”

The question caught Nick off guard. He hadn’t really taken the time to consider the answer before. Nick liked to believe that there were more good people out there than bad, but more often than not it seemed like he only got to encounter ‘the good ones’ just before they were loaded into a body bag. “What I think doesn’t count. The only thing that matters is the evidence.”

“You’ve spent too much time around Grissom.”

“I’ll take that as the compliment I know it was intended to be. And for the record I don’t know if I believe he did it or not. I know we’re not supposed to let our personal feelings interfere with the case, and I know just because the man was scum it didn’t mean he deserved to die; but to me it feels like in the end we’ll be putting away the wrong person. No matter who pulled the trigger.”

After coming up empty with the trashcan Brass began casually looking through the bushes in front of the kitchen window. “This will sound strange coming from me, but don’t you think that’s a little harsh?”

“Did you see the pictures from the hospital?”

“No. But I see something better.”

“What?” When Nick turned the corner of the house he found Brass standing there with his gloved hand waving a receipt in the air.

“A receipt from Monday. ‘Two orders of Wonton Soup, Pu Pu platter, Spring Rolls, Rice Sticks.’ Someone was hungry.”

“Andrea wanted to surprise her husband with a special dinner to tell her husband she was pregnant.” Nick took the receipt from Brass and placed it in an evidence bag. “Has Sophia officially released the scene yet?”

“Not yet.”

“So technically everything we find could still somehow pertain to the original case.”

“I’ll get a warrant for the restaurant and find out who worked the day Andrea was attacked.”

“Can you call me when it’s ready?”

“Nicky, you’re working against the clock.”

“There’s just something I have to do first. It won’t take long.”


------------------------------------


“Come in.”

This time it was easier for Nick to visit with Andrea. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. “You look....”

“It’s okay, you can say it. I already looked in the mirror in the bathroom.”

Nick took a seat beside Andrea. “Actually I was going to say ‘better.’”

“Oh.”

“We found evidence that the delivery man was at the very least outside of your home the day you were... attacked.” It was odd talking with Andrea about what happened to her that day. Normally Nick was a people person, but Andrea came from a family of cops so she clearly knew how certain things worked and she would expect him not to sugar coat things for her benefit. “Also Sara got a copy of the 911 call. The call was made from your phone but the person who called was male, and his voice doesn’t match your husband’s.”

“Then what the hell are you doing here? You need to be out there proving Don’s innocent.”

Andrea tried to get out of the hospital bed but she still felt weak and couldn’t convince her legs to stop shaking. Nick was there in an instant offering her support. “Brass is working on rounding up everyone who worked that day. I just thought you’d want to be kept in the loop.”

Nick helped guide Andrea back into the bed and pulled the cafeteria tray within her reach. “You should eat, you need to get your strength up.”

“Some how that sounds so much nicer than my brother’s way. Don would be sitting here practically shoving mashed potatoes down my throat saying something like ‘if you don’t eat I’ll call ma and tell her you’ve been eating take out for 2 weeks.’” Andrea bypassed the salad and went straight for the jell-O.

“Don’t eat that.”

“Me telling you what my brother would have done wasn’t your cue to try to fill the void.”

“I wasn’t. But trust me, you don’t want to eat that.”

“And why not?” Andrea always found a way to get what she wanted, and right now she wanted jell-O.

“Because it’s green.”

“You have a personal bias against certain colors?”

“I had to spend some time here a few months ago. And when I was coherent enough to care about what was going on I discovered that it’s well... nasty.”

Andrea folded her arms over her chest and stared at Nick in disbelief. “It’s scary how much you sound like Don right now. Alright mister, what color should I eat?”

“The red ones. They’re the best.”

“I’ll be sure to remember that next time.”

“I’ll do everything I can to clear your brother.”

“I know.” Andrea turned on the television and began to randomly flip through the stations. Yes she was being rude to Nick now, but it was her polite way of trying to force him to leave. Right now Don was the only one she had and she couldn’t afford to lose him.

Nick’s eyes kept moving between Andrea and the television. He wasn’t sure what he was still doing there. But he felt as if someone should be there with Andrea; she had been through so much in such a short time and it didn’t look like it was going to get easier for her anytime soon.

Their conversation ended up drifting to whatever happened to be on screen at the moment. It wasn’t the most intellectual conversation he had ever had, but it helped to pass the time and it kept Andrea from dwelling on the more unpleasant aspects of the past week. For a while Nick felt almost normal. Over the past month he had kept a lot of his thoughts and feelings private, against his psychologists advice and it was hard for him. But it was different with Andrea; he felt more at ease.

Nick didn’t notice that he had started scratching his arms when a commercial for bug spray had come on the TV. “You do know they’re just on TV and they can’t actually hurt you right?”

“Uh, yeah.” Nick stuffed each hand into one of his pockets in an effort to contain his reaction. “I just don’t do well with ants.”

“Sounds like there’s a story there.”

“It’s part of why I was in the hospital.” Nick wasn’t sure why he was opening up to Andrea. Aside from the psychologist the only person he ever talked to about his feelings on being buried alive was Greg. “I’m not really comfortable talking about it.”

“It’s okay.”

The sound of Nick’s pager going off was a welcomed reprieve. “That’s Brass, I have to go.”

“You’ll come back and tell me what’s going on right?”

“I promise.”


------------------------------------


Greg loved the part of waking up where you weren’t fully awake but you were coherent enough to know that you should go back to sleep. The part where his bed felt like the most comfortable thing in the world and he never wanted to get out of it. Greg rolled over searching for a warm body to press against. It had been far too long since the last time he had shared his bed with anyone, he had almost forgotten how good it felt just having someone there.

Greg lazily reached out for Don, hoping to wrap his arm around the other man. When his hand found nothing but cold sheets Greg frantically began waving his arm around searching for Don. Nothing. “He’s in the bathroom, that’s all.”

The downside to only being half awake was that you had no sense of the passage of time. What felt like only a few seconds could actually be an hour, and what felt like the longest hour of your life could only have been a minute. After what felt like too long Greg sat upright and cautiously opened his eyes. “Don?” It took a minute for Greg’s eyes to adjust to the light he had just turned on.

When no answer came Greg reluctantly got out of bed and pulled on some clothing. Greg fumbled his way to the bathroom searching for Don. Empty. The next logical choice was the living room. “Maybe I snore.” It was possible that Don went back to sleep on the couch. Strike three. The only thing that kept Greg from panicking was the fact that Don’s bag was still next to the coffee table and that the door leading out of the apartment was still locked.

“Okay, where the hell are you?” People couldn’t just turn invisible, and his apartment wasn’t large enough for someone to effectively hide from another person when they were looking for them. He wasn’t sure why but Greg decided to check the porch. It probably would have been a better idea if he checked the kitchen, but that would have to come second. Once Greg got an idea stuck in his head the only way he could allow himself to move on would be to act on it.

He was glad he listened to his instincts because more often than not they turned out to be right, and this time was no exception. “Are you alright?”

Don was sitting on the floor smoking. “I don’t know.”

Even though there were chairs present Greg chose to sit on the ground next to Don. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’m just trying to figure out where I go from here.”

“What do you mean?”

Don didn’t know where to start. Up until recently the only person he really opened up to about things was Andrea, but now he had Greg. It still felt odd that he had come to trust Greg as much as he did. “Captain Brass gave Nick 48 hours to find evidence proving that I wasn’t involved. So one way or another by the day after tomorrow it will be over with.”

“We both know that you didn’t kill your brother-in-law. I think even Nick knows the truth, and you know that the evidence always tells the truth.”

“It’s not just that. Andy’s going to be out here alone. She shouldn’t have to raise the baby by herself. I know I should try to convince her to come back home with me, but I know she won’t.”

Greg grabbed the beer between Don’s legs and took a swig.

“Do-.” Before Don could finish Greg had already taken a drink. In the same instant Greg was spitting the beer out all over the porch.

“What the hell?”

Don smiled and pulled out a hidden can of soda. “This is my drink,” Don said as he pointed to the can. “And that was my ashtray. You know I am capable of drinking something other than alcohol.”

“You know you’re awful cute when you’re trying to act insulted.”

“And you do know that you’re just wasting your time flirting with me, ‘cause I’m not going to let you kiss me again until go rinse your mouth out.”

“You’ll put beer and cigarettes in your mouth, just not at the same time; so is there anything else I should know that doesn’t go near your mouth?”

It was Don’s turn to send his drink flying through the air. Greg’s hand was on his back gently patting him, trying to stop Don’s choking.

“Now we’re even.”

“Fair enough. What are you doing up anyway?”

“I was looking for you. Do you always sleep so little?”

“I think it’s because of the time difference and I can’t seem to shut my mind down. No matter how hard I try to sleep I keep thinking of things.”

Greg knew it was a loaded question but he couldn’t help himself from asking it. “Am I one of those ‘things?’”

Don found himself unconsciously leaning against Greg. “Among other things.”

“Okay just so I’m clear ‘among other things’ as in: ‘yes I think about you, but I think about other things too;’ or ‘among other things’ as in ‘my brain is flooded with images of Greg in various naughty positions and other things just happen to be in the picture as well?’”

“Maybe a little bit of both. I’m not like this back home.”

“You don’t have to keep saying that.” Greg hated that Don always felt like he needed to explain and justify every second of his life.

“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea of me though. I don’t randomly meet strangers, inject myself into their life and then have sex with them the next day.”

“We’re not strangers, we’re friends. And if you’re having second thoughts about what happened between us all you have to do is tell me.”

“It’s not that. I feel bad that I’ll be leaving soon.”

“Well maybe Nick won’t find the real killer and I’ll get to visit you in prison every week.” Don playfully elbowed Greg in the side. “We’ll figure something out, after all it is what we get paid to do. I’ll probably be the one who comes up with the answer. I am a lot smarter than I look.”

“Greg?”

Greg had folded his arms over his knees and was using it as a makeshift pillow. He was very glad that Don was more comfortable opening up around him, but he really wanted to go back to bed. “Hmm?”

“You’ll look out for Andy when I go back home right?”

“Of course.” Greg understood how incredibly hard asking for help must have been for Don, and he wasn’t going to turn him down. Besides Greg genuinely liked Andrea, as long as she wasn’t hitting him. He wouldn’t mind spending time with her.

Don had felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. It took a lot for Don to ask anyone for help. It had always made him feel like he was admitting that he was a failure. Except it was different with Greg, with Greg everything felt... different. There was no real explanation for it. “Thanks. I think I’m ready to try sleeping again.” Don stood and helped Greg off of the concrete.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes, I’ve got a date with the mouthwash.” By the time Greg had finally washed away the taste of old beer and ashes out of his mouth Don was already asleep.







Cross posted to nerdswithbadges, detective_flack and csi_slash