Disclaimer: I do not own CSI: New York.
Series: None.
Spoilers: Heroes; Pay Up.

Chapter One

Jersey PD Officer Killed in Car Blaze

Any headline involving the killing of a police officer was a bad one in Detective Don Flack's opinion, but this was painfully tragic in the simple fact that it was an accident.

Officer Jessica Angell had, by all accounts, been a promising cop and didn't deserve the fiery demise that had left her family with nothing but ashes to bury.

He folded the paper up and tossed it on to the small table in the hospital waiting room with a sigh, checking his watch as he did.

The woman he was visiting had been found unconscious outside of Angel of Mercy that morning by one of the nurses on her way in. Police had been called, but upon waking up, she had asked to speak to him personally, something which baffled everyone, since she had yet to give them her own name.

Finally the doctor left the room and gave him a nod and he stood up, entering the room with only a quiet knock to announce his arrival.

The woman lying there greeted him with a soft smile and there was something in her eyes that suggested they knew each other, but, although there was something familiar about her, he was sure they'd never met.

She was beautiful though; dark sparkling eyes, perfect features, soft brown hair that cascaded over her pillow like a waves on a beach …

He shook himself mentally and held up his shield. "Ma'am, I'm Detective Flack; you wanted to talk to me?"

She nodded. "What date is it?"

"August 12th." He answered. "2005."

She sighed. "Okay, now I'm hopelessly confused."

"You and me both." Don muttered. "Why did you ask for me? Do we know each other?"

She smiled sadly. "Apparently not."

Now it was Don's turn to sigh, rubbing his temple in an attempt to offset the migraine he felt coming. "Okay, let's start from the beginning. What's your name?"

"Jessica." She answered. "Jessica Angell."

Don frowned, the familiarity making sense. "Excuse me." He ducked out of the room again, returning with the paper, glancing at the photo accompanying the article. "The Jersey cop who was just killed in an accident? That Jessica Angell?"

"What?" She took the paper from him, scanning the article, paling as she did. "What the hell?"

"Alright, I'm going to get the doctor." Don decided, realising that she wasn't lying; she honestly thought she was this woman. But there was no way she'd been in a car accident that severe; the injuries just didn't match up.

"No!" She caught his hand. "Please, just hear me out. I swear I don't know what's going on here." Her voice softened. "Don, please."

Something in her voice convinced him to sit down. "Alright. Go on."

"I did work as a uni for Jersey PD." 'Jessica' told him. "But I was never in any accident. In 2006, I became a third grade homicide detective at NYPD; we were partners. November 10th 2009, I was accompanying a witness to court … there was a kidnapping. I was shot." She pulled the collar of her gown aside to reveal a wound on her left shoulder and then pulled the blankets down to reveal an even worse one on her stomach.

Don touched the one on her shoulder carefully. "That's a fresh wound. I haven't heard any reports of gunfire …"

"It hasn't happened yet." She sighed. "I came to in the hospital; I couldn't move, or speak, or see, but I could hear you and one of the CSIs … you thought I was dead … I was so scared I'd be buried alive or something …"

Her voice caught and he couldn't help taking her hand and squeezing it gently. "Take your time."

She took a shaky breath. "I blacked out again and then I woke up here. I could tell something wasn't right; they didn't know who I was and you'd been there before, so it didn't make sense, so …"

"So you asked for me." Don finished, unable to help the note of speculation that entered his voice.

She nodded. "You don't believe me, do you?"

Don thought about his response carefully. "It's not that I don't believe you. It's just … this is impossible; you're saying you've gone back in time. That can't be done."

She nodded resignedly. "Get someone to take my DNA if you like. It'll match, I swear."

"Okay, I'll get one of the CSIs to come in." Don assured her. The door opened and he glanced up to see the doctor beckoning to him. "Hang on."

The doctor waited until the door closed before speaking. "She's suffering from four gunshot wounds."

"Four?" Don repeated.

"Yes." The doctor nodded. "We thought it was two. Two are through-and-through, in her shoulder and stomach. But she was shot twice more in the stomach; the bullets were removed surgically."

"But not here?" Don guessed. "Was it a professional job?"

"I'd say so." He confirmed. "The stitches were definitely what I would expect from a hospital. The wounds are clean; no sign of infection."

Don sighed. "Doctor, she's claiming to have fallen back in time; is there anything …?"

"No sign of brain damage or head trauma." The doctor held up an envelope. "We did find this clutched in her hand though, when she was found."

Don took the envelope and opened it to find a photograph. He stared at it for a few seconds, hardly able to believe what he was seeing, before walking back into the room. "Where did you get this?"

"I think you gave it to me." 'Jessica' told him. "Before I passed out again in the hospital. It was taken about three months ago … well, at that time, anyway."

Don didn't dispute it this time. In the photo, his own face grinned up at him, his arms around the woman he was talking to, the woman he was sure he'd never met. He flipped the photo over and found a message on the back, written in his own handwriting:

I'm sorry, Detective; I tried. I love you, Jess.

"What does it say?" She asked curiously.

For a second, Don considered lying, but then he remembered the heartbroken look in her eyes when she realised he had no idea who she was and handed her the photo.

She gazed at the words for a few seconds, a soft smile crossing her face, a solitary tear making its way down her cheek, and he felt an ache form in his chest at the sight.

"Jessica …" Don sighed. "I'm gonna call Jersey PD; tell them that you got thrown clear from the car and woke up with amnesia." He smiled at her. "And then see if we can't get you transferred to NYPD early."

"You can just call me Jess, you know; everyone does. Well, you called me Jessica sometimes, but only when …" Jess looked up, trailing off. "You believe me?"

"I know my own handwriting." Don told her quietly. "I can't remember telling any woman that before." He took in her expression. "I never told you either, did I?"

Jess shook her head, dropping her gaze again. "I never said it either."

"My point is," Don continued, not dwelling on the awkwardness that revelation could cause, "I never thought I'd say that … or write it. So I must have changed quite a bit when I met you and …" He trailed off, not sure how to vocalise the thoughts flying around her head. "I guess I'd like the chance to find out why."

Jess smiled at him. "What makes you think it's anything I did?"

Don laughed. "Trust me; it was something you did."

Jess sniggered. "Yeah, it probably was." The smile faded from her face and she looked serious once more. "Seriously; how is this gonna work? I've got insider information here. You name a victim; I can tell you who did it."

"As long as you can tell us where the evidence is." Don's mind was racing. "We'll have to tell the CSIs you know what's going on."

"Right." Jess nodded in agreement. "It's gonna be weird not seeing Lindsay as a mom." She added almost as an afterthought.

Don frowned. "Lindsay? Who's Lindsay?"

"CSI." Jess raised an eyebrow. "Lindsay Monroe?"

"There are only two female CSIs, Jess." Don told her. "Stella Bonasera and Aiden Burn."

Jess gasped suddenly, horror filling her eyes. "Aiden! Don, you've got to stop her!"

"Stop her from what?" Don asked, perplexed.

"She'll start working this case right around now – that Pratt guy – and there won't be enough evidence and she won't let it go and she'll get herself fired …"

Automatically, he reached out to comfort her, but her next words caused him to freeze, ice seeming to flood through his veins.

"I mean, I never met her, but no one deserves that; Don, he's gonna kill her!"