CSI:NY (Flack/Lindsay); Prompt #10: Approach-Avoidance

Title: Beautiful Wreck
goficyourself: (challenge #7)
psych_30: #10. approach-avoidance
Word Count: 1,551
Disclaimer: The names of all characters contained herein are the property of Anthony Zuiker, Jerry Bruckheimer Television, CBS and Alliance Atlantis. No infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission.
A/N: Written as a Christmas fic request for iluvroadrunner6. Prompt Don Flack, Jr. / Lindsay Monroe / a long time ago. Crossposted to flack_monroe, csi_ny_fic, psych_30, and goficyourself.



Well all the plans that you had
From seven years ago
Like all the promises you made
I watched them come and go
-Shawn Mullins

Lindsay looked around the precinct, and realized that she never thought that it would feel this different. Everything was the same since she had been here last, but it still felt like so much had changed. Sure, some cops had probably transferred out of the unit, and some had probably transferred in or been made detective. There were some minor changes in décor and the general layout, but even though she knew this place, it was like she was a separate entity. It had been years.

She never should’ve come back, not in a million years, it was a mistake. A horrible mistake, she should’ve stayed in Montana because if she stayed here much longer she’d surely run into --

“Lindsay?” He approached her cautiously, as if not really sure that it was her. “That you?”

She shoved her hands in her pockets and furrowed her brow. She knew this was going to happen, inside she had just known it would, even when she had first gotten on the airplane. The thing was, even though Lindsay felt that seeing Flack for the first time in five years wasn’t going to be the best thing, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad either.

“Yeah.” At length her eyes met his, and Christ, it felt so good to Lindsay to look into those blue eyes again. “Yeah, it’s me.”

He tapped the folder he held against his palm, and Lindsay could sense his unease just as keenly as she sensed her own. It couldn’t be easy, could it, to come face-to-face with the person you spent a year of your life with? The reason why they weren’t still together didn’t really matter now. The only thing that mattered about that was that it had nearly destroyed both of them.

“Been forever.”

She could tell that he wanted to say more, and all she had to do was let him. That had always been Flack. He would never do anything in their relationship that wasn’t okay with her first, except where police work was concerned. But that…that didn’t have anything to do with why she was here. Why was she here?

“Feels longer than that.” Lindsay could see that Flack still wanted to say so much to her, things he had never said because she had been the one to leave and he never stopped her. “Maybe we could talk, if you have the time. I realize that you’re on the clock--”

A great deal of weight seemed to rise off of Flack’s shoulders and he shook his head, gesturing over his shoulder. “Nah. I got time. This case is going nowhere fast, at least not without proper evidence, and that’s coming up on the empty side. C’mon, Linds.”

How long had it been, she wondered, since someone had called her ‘Linds’? She shook her head of that thought, trying to impersonalize her thoughts about Flack and what was going to take place as she followed him through the maze of people in the bullpen. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Whatever anything else was, with Flack it had always been personal. She didn’t know what to make of that, and she didn’t even try because God knows what that would mean for her current situation.

“How you been?” Flack asked, as Lindsay sat down in a chair next to his desk. This was one of the most uncomfortable situations of his life, and making small talk in the precinct wasn’t exactly his first choice of ways to sort things out.

“I’m working in the crime lab back in Bozeman. It was strange at first, having been away for so long, but I got back into the swing of things pretty quick. It helps to have five older brothers on the force threatening to beat anyone who gives you a hard time.” She laughed softly, then looked up at Flack with a strange sort of pride in her eyes. “I made CSI third grade back in June.”

Flack leaned back in his chair and flashed a quick grin at Lindsay. “I know.”

Her gaze sharpened on him when he spoke of prior knowledge. She didn’t really understand. “How could you know, Don? It wasn’t as if someone else could’ve told you, because I haven’t been talking to anyone here in the city after I left--”

“Lindsay,” Flack said gently. “Lindsay. Just because we ended and just because you left doesn’t mean I stopped caring. You wouldn’t talk to me, and you weren’t talking to anyone else here either, so I had to find out how you were doing somehow.”

She nibbled on her lower lip. She really hadn’t taken that into account. Lindsay had, for all intents and purposes, thought that Flack would do just what she had done; try to forget it had ever happened, and do a miserable job of it. No matter how hard she had tried to forget him dancing with her, buying her flowers, kissing her desperate and slow and fierce and tender and lovely, she just couldn’t.

“Who?” she asked at length. Part of her wanted to know who had cared enough about her to give Flack the details of her life because she wouldn’t.

“Your older brother Jack,” Flack said, having the sense to sound just a little bit sheepish. It was no secret how close Lindsay and Jack were. It was Jack’s idea that she go to the city in the first place, and she had blamed him for a while when she came back to Montana with a broken heart. She didn’t even want to know how Flack had convinced Jack to give him information on her. Knowing Jack as she did, Lindsay could only think that he must be fully convinced that Flack loved her.

“Listen, Lindsay, I’m sorry that I never went after you. It was a mistake and I’m sorry. As soon as I knew you were going back to Montana I should’ve followed you and tried to convince you to stay, because--”

Lindsay held up her hand. “No! Don’t do this, Flack. I don’t want to hear it. It was a long time ago. I don’t want to know why you should’ve come after me.”

Flack leaned in closer to her, his eyes darkening with what could be anger or frustration, Lindsay wasn’t sure. While she had always prided herself on being able to read him better than other people, sometimes he just escaped her.

“Don’t you play that game, Lindsay. It wasn’t that long ago. I know you remember, and so do I. I remember like it was yesterday, the way everyone looked at me when they realized I hadn’t gone after you. Do you realize that I’ve been dying a little bit each day since you’ve been gone? Lindsay, don’t look away from me--”

She couldn’t stand this. This was not why she had come here, if she had come for any reason at all. Lindsay hated the way Flack looked at her, because desperate was not something he did well. And oh God, why was he touching her? His hand grasped hers, firm and resolute, and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. It was almost as if everything in the world had been reduced to that one point of contact.

“Don, don’t do this,” Lindsay said. She couldn’t (wouldn’t) have him disrupting the routine she had developed. The routine of get up, eat, work, eat, sleep, and try to forget. It had all been working so well until she came here, until she had a moment of weakness and let him talk to her. She shouldn’t have let him do that, that was a mistake. This was all a horrible mistake.

“Lindsay, I love you. Still do. And…what are you doing? Please. Just sit down, and maybe we can talk some more, Linds. C’mon, don’t go--”

She wouldn’t cry. Lindsay pushed her way through the throngs of officers and the occasional suspect, ignoring Flack as he called after her. She wouldn’t cry. This whole visit to the city had been a mistake. Everything had been ruined, and as soon as she got back to her hotel she was going to go online and order a ticket back to Bozeman. She wouldn’t cry. The sidewalk offered fresh air and she breathed deeply as she began walking quickly along the pavement, ignoring the people on either side of her. She wouldn’t--

“Dammit,” Lindsay mumbled as she wiped the tears away from her eyes with the palm of her hand. She hated crying, she really did. What she hated more was crying over someone she had promised herself she would never cry over again.

Sometimes, she told herself, you just have to walk away.