by Nix
(crimsonquills AT gmail DOT com)

Author's Notes: This is a wishlist-gift!fic for Webbgirl and Aurelia Priscus. *grins* It is also further proof that Mike always wins.

"Oh, shit," Danny muttered under his breath.

Lindsay looked up from the footprints she was numbering and photographing, her brow wrinkling in concern. "What's wrong?"

Danny tilted his head towards the entrance to the boathouse. "Major Case sent Logan over."

Frowning now, Lindsay turned and followed Danny's head tilt to find an unfamiliar man standing in the boathouse doorway. Reasonably tall, but not towering, broad shoulders, dark hair with...Lindsay squinted...a little grey at the temples. He was smiling, chatting with one of the uniforms, his body language saying talk to me.

"So?" she said, turning back to Danny. "We've worked with Major Case before."

"You've worked here for more than a year and somehow in all that time you've avoided being in the same place as Flack when Logan shows up?" Danny groused. "I don't know what your secret is, but if you figure it out, you better share."

Lindsay looked back toward Logan curiously. He'd left the uniform behind now and was picking his way through the crime scene, avoiding carefully marked evidence with unconscious ease. "I take it they don't get along?"

"Don't get along is an understatement," Danny said, lowering his voice as Logan drew closer. "They're like cats and dogs. You get those two within speaking distance of each other and they--"

"Detective Flack," Logan said brightly. "So nice of you to keep an eye on my crime scene for me, but you can go now."

"Logan," Flack said flatly. Lindsay watched, footprints forgotten, as Flack took a deliberate look around. "I don't see your partner. I take it she's had her fill of your sparkling personality. That's what, six now? Seven?"

"Wheeler's home with the flu, along with half the squad." Logan smirked a little. "You've got me all to yourself this time."

"As thrilling as that thought is," Flack said dryly, "I'm a little involved with a young lady."

Logan stepped around Flack and looked down at the victim. She was soaking wet, her skin so pale and cold it was grey, her lips blue. Dark hair--maybe black, maybe brown, it was hard to tell when it was wet--was plastered to her head, the long ends of it tucked under her shoulders where she lay. "I think your girl's more my type," Logan said, looking up at Flack again.

"Got a lot of experience with the cold fish type?" Flack asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Got a lot of experience with the rich industrialist's daughter type," Logan shot back. "This belongs to Major Case Squad and you know it."

"This is my case," Flack snapped.

"Not according to my captain it isn't," Logan said smugly.

"I don't take orders from your captain," Flack bit out, "and I haven't heard from mine."

"So call him."

Flack smiled. "I seem to have forgotten to charge my cell this morning."

Logan pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and offered it to Flack. "Use mine."

To Lindsay's surprise, Flack accepted the cell phone with good grace...and promptly dropped it into the water filling the boat slip. "Sorry," Flack smiled insincerely. "Butterfingers."

Apparently unperturbed, Logan took a step closer to the boat slip and peered through the water at his drowned cell phone. "Detective Flack," he said, and even though this was the first time she'd encountered the man, Lindsay could tell the earnestness was greatly exaggerated, "I can't believe you just contaminated a crime scene."

Flack didn't take his eyes off Logan. "Lindsay, you see where that cell phone landed?"

"Yup," she said quickly, not wanting to get drawn in.

"You going to have any trouble excluding it?"


Flack half shrugged at Logan. "No problem."

Unfortunately, despite her carefully restricted answers, Lindsay seemed to have drawn Logan's attention. He gave her a brief look over and smiled. "Lindsay, right? You want to give me an overview, since Flack here doesn't seem interested?" Lindsay hesitated, glancing at Flack. She kept it brief, but Logan caught the look anyway. He snorted. "You don't need his permission. He's not your boss."

"I work with him more than I work with you," Lindsay said wryly. "So I've kind of got a stake in not pissing him off."

Logan chuckled and looked back at Flack. "Your techs have a lot more personality than the idiots they saddle me with," he said. "Why is that?"

"Because everyone but the idiots have figured out how to stay out of your way," Flack replied, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a smirk.

"And yet I keep running into you," Logan said, as if musing. Feigned enlightenment dawned. "Wait, actually..."

"You want a rundown on this scene or not?" Flack interrupted impatiently. Lindsay was a little surprised he'd given in so quickly. Maybe he just hadn't been able to come up with anything more creative to interrupt the impending insult.

Logan's eyebrows rose. "You going to give me one?"

"Sure," Flack said carelessly. "I mean, drowned girl, head abrasion, deck slick with frost. She probably slipped, hit her head, went in and drowned. Accidental death. Investigation's strictly routine. No reason for Major Case to be interested."

Logan snorted. "Bullshit."

"You're so sure?" Flack asked, deadpan.

"Aside from having a very well honed bullshit detector," Logan said dryly, "there are just two problems with the load you're shoveling. First, I've already spoken to the uniforms securing the scene, so I know that you've got two sets of footprints coming in here, none going out, and a missing boat. Second, the girl's hair is tucked very neatly under her shoulders. In my experience, CSIs aren't so carefully cosmetic," Logan flashed Lindsay a grin, "when they pull a body out of the drink, which means someone else laid her out here with some care."

"I guess after ten years on Staten Island I should have expected you to know drownings inside and out," Flack drawled.

Logan scowled and Lindsay blinked in puzzlement, wondering why that particular barb should have struck home when none of the others had. "At least I learn from my mistakes," Logan said. "You'd think you'd have figured it out by now: I'm never going to lose a case to you."

"Never?" Flack quirked an eyebrow. "You sure--"

"Would you two take the pissing contest outside?" Danny burst out suddenly. "Some of us are actually trying to work here."

Lindsay couldn't help a guilty twitch. She hadn't processed a single piece of evidence since Logan had walked in.

Logan turned an amused glance on Danny. "Sure." He looked back at Flack and smirked. "I could use a little more range, at least."

"It'd be just like you to whip it out and demonstrate," Flack said with a snort. He gave Logan a shove towards the door and followed him out.

"Hey, I've got nothing to be ashamed of..." Logan's voice faded as he and Flack passed out of hearing range.

"You know what the worst part is?" Danny said, catching Lindsay's eye.

"What?" she asked with trepidation.

Danny looked out the doorway after the two detectives and sighed. "They're so determined not to lose out to the other that they always end up sharing jurisdiction."

"You mean--"

"Yup," Danny confirmed. "We're stuck with them until we solve this thing."

Lindsay looked down at the footprint she was supposed to be processing and then back up at Danny. "Work faster," she said emphatically.


"Logan!" Flack called. Logan had stepped up his pace to a brisk walk as soon as he cleared the boathouse doorway. "Logan! Where the hell are you going?"

Logan didn't reply, but the answer quickly became apparent. There was only one place to go, other than the boathouse: a public washroom. Logan ducked into the men's side and Flack cursed under his breath as he hurried after the man. He'd no sooner cleared the door than he was seized by the suit jacket and shoved up against the wall.

"Logan!" Flack gasped, glancing involuntarily at the door.

Logan kicked a wedge of wood under the door and grinned wickedly at Flack before leaning in and kissing him, hard. Flack was frozen with shock for a moment. Then his hands came up, cupping Logan's face and kissing him back just as fiercely. They were both gasping by the time Logan broke the kiss. "Jesus Christ, Mike," Flack managed. "I know you're a reckless son of a bitch, but this is a crime scene."

"No," Logan said, letting go of Flack's suit, his hands trailing down his body. "The crime scene is a couple dozen yards away. Thanks to your devoted criminalists, we even know the perp didn't come or go this way."


"You've been working with techs too long," Logan said. His hands were busy at Flack's waist. With a shock, Flack realized Logan had undone his belt and was now working on the fly of his pants.

"Mike! What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, reaching to stop the nimble fingers. Logan was faster, though, and Flack just brushed his wrist as he slipped his hand into Flack's pants. Groaning, Flack's head fell back, striking the wall with a dull thud.

"What does it feel like I'm doing?" Logan chuckled. His fingers were strong and relentless and he knew exactly how to touch Flack to bring him to aching hardness in no time at all.

"Feels like you're about to give me a hand job in a public restroom. Bastard." Flack moaned, his hips pushing into Logan's hand involuntarily. Cool air caressed his cock as Logan bared him and Flack caught his breath.

"Close, but not quite on the mark," Logan said smugly.

Flack barely had time to process the remark before Logan slid to his knees and hot, damp breath drove the coolness of the air away. "Oh fuck--" Flack broke off, the hot, wet touch of Logan's mouth on his cock driving out the capacity for language.

Struggling to hold still, Flack panted for breath, his eyes clenched shut as the slide of Logan's tongue over his aching flesh sent heat pulsing through him. Logan was an expert with his tongue and the firm seal of his lips around Flack was damn near as good. Flack couldn't resist burying his hands in Logan's hair and urging him forward.

Logan chuckled a little, the vibration making Flack shudder, and then that amazing mouth was taking him in deeper, sliding down Flack's length until Logan had swallowed him down completely. Hands slid up Flack's thighs and cupped his ass, giving him an encouraging little push.

Moaning, Flack thrust a little with his hips. Logan took it, ripping a gasp out of him, and then Logan's mouth was sliding up and down and his hands were encouraging Flack to move with him.

"Oh, God," Flack moaned as he fucked Logan's mouth. He pried his eyes open and looked down. Logan's full lips were stretched around Flack, his eyes closed as he worked the hot shaft, and the look on his face was of complete and total satisfaction, as if he'd already come, for all that Flack could see he hadn't.

Watching, absorbed, Flack pushed himself towards Logan and moaned softly at seeing Logan swallow him down. "Mike," Flack said hoarsely. "I'm not gonna last much longer."

In response, Logan pulled on his ass, taking Flack all the way in again, his throat convulsing around Flack's cock. Groaning, Flack let his head fall back against the wall and thrust one more time into Logan's mouth before coming, long and intense. Logan's throat worked around him, drawing out the last tremors of Flack's climax before he pulled away. The air was twice as cold after Logan's hot mouth, but Logan quickly tucked him away again.

Opening his eyes, Flack was just in time to see Logan, sitting back on his heels, wipe his mouth with the back of one hand. Flack shivered, but he was too well spent for any other reaction. "I can't believe you just did that."

Logan climbed to his feet and crowded Flack against the wall. "We're not done yet," he murmured, kissing Flack and sharing the taste of himself. The hard heat of him pressing into Flack's hip made his meaning clear.

"You mean this?" Flack teased, his fingers drifting over the rigid shape.

"Bright, aren't you?" Logan said roughly, pushing into Flack's touch.

"I ought to leave you like this. Serve you right for jumping me," Flack said, rubbing a little harder, his fingers tracing Logan's shape and finding the head, teasing him with touches lighter than he knew Logan liked.

Logan pulled him into a deep, rough kiss. Flack let his hand still for a moment as he concentrated on returning the caresses, his tongue tangling with Logan's, drawing it into his mouth for a moment before Logan wrested control of the kiss back. Finally, they broke apart. "You like it when I jump you," Logan said, stroking the back of Flack's neck.

"Yeah," Flack agreed, "but it's going to get us into trouble one day." Despite what he was saying, Flack opened Logan's pants as he spoke and slid his hands inside, stroking Logan with rough, urgent hands.

"Maybe," Logan replied. "But not today. Fuck, do that again."

Flack grinned and repeated the touch, absorbing Logan's appreciative moan with pleasure. He stepped up the pace, for all that he loved the way Logan gnawed on his lower lip when he was enjoying himself. Someone would be missing them soon.

Logan held onto Flack's shoulder and thrust into the tight grip of his hand. His breath was coming faster. Flack slid his fingers firmly over the head of Logan's cock and Logan gasped. "Hang on," he managed breathlessly. "Hang on just a second. Use this." He pulled a condom out of his pocket and handed it to Flack. "Don't want to make a mess of this suit."

"Someone's going to catch you carrying these one day," Flack muttered as he tore open the packet and rolled it onto Logan.

Logan just chuckled. "Like they'd be surprised."

Wrapping his hand tightly around Logan, Flack watched his eyes fall shut and his mouth drop open, gasping, with satisfaction. "You're fucking gorgeous," Flack muttered.

The twitch at the corner of Logan's mouth told Flack he'd heard the comment, but he didn't reply, just moaned and shuddered as Flack drove him over the edge. Logan hung his head and took long, deep breaths for a moment before he looked up and pulled Flack in for a slower, easier kiss.

Flack obliged him, then stepped back and waited while Logan tidied himself up and flushed the condom. Finally Logan slid his hands into his pockets and grinned at Flack, waggling his eyebrows. "Fucking gorgeous, huh?"

"Especially when you come," Flack said, not the slightest bit embarrassed.

Logan chuckled, still a little flushed and smug as hell. "C'mon," he said, pulling the wedge out from under the door with his foot. "Let's go convince 'em we've talked each other into sharing the case."

Flack grinned one last time as he followed Logan out of the washroom before composing his expression into vaguely irritated lines.