The 35th Precinct

Title: The Class Reunion and Full Confession of Rebecca Flack Nee Stanhope(2/2)-COMPLETE

Author: laguera25

Fandom(s): CSI:NY/HP

Rating: FRMAO

Pairings: Don Flack/OFC

Warnings: Graphic violence

Disclaimer(s): All recognizable characters, places, and events in the HPverse are the property of J.K. Rowling, Scholastic and Bloomsbury Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No infringement is intended, and no profit is being made. For entertainment only. Rebecca Stanhope Flack is my own invention.

All recognizable characters, places, and events in the CSI:NYverse are property of Anthony Zuiker, Jerry Bruckheimer, CBS, and Alliance-Atlantis. No infringement is intended, and no profit is being made. For entertaiment only.

"I see a bad moon risin'," is a lyric from Creedence Clearwater Revival's "Bad Moon Risin'.

A/N: This story contains on OFC. If OFCs offend thee, please stay in your lane and exit to the rear. There is no need to pee in my pool. Concrit is appreciated. Flames are not.

This story was the natural result of a "what-if" scenario that popped into my head as I was writing Through a Glass Darkly, Come Ye Home Again and demanded to be written. It has no bearing on the TAGD arc, however. In essence, it's crackfic AU of a crackfic AU.

Part I




( The Class Reunion and Full Confession of Rebecca Flack Nee Stanhope-Part II )

In lieu of my moribund witterings, a fic snippet from an as yet untitled Flack/Stanhope vignette:



( But reality was in black and white, stark and unforgiving... )

You can all get down on you knees and thank teawithvoldy for the fact that I pounded out 787 words of SLS53, because until she engaged me in a bit of silly fun with it, I had every intention of torturing Greg in September When It Comes or working on Through a Looking Glass Darkly, Come Ye Home Again, the HP/CSI: NY crossover crackfic the Roomie inspired. Instead, Moody ruminated on Curses and temptations and the thrill of snapping bones and broken wills.

Not all there, Moody. Any road, SLS53 topped 3,084 last night. If I can pedal out 1,000 words today and tomorrow, it might appear just after the new year. Then I can work on Greg and the crackfic with a clear conscience.

Someone finally reviewed "Whispers and Blood on the Tongue" on FF.net. It had been there with nary a peep for more than a week, and I was beginning to fret that I had written an oatmeal story-one that was written well and kept its pants buttoned, but that never jingled any bells.

I found it interesting that they liked Marriedandhappy!Stanhope, because she isn't all that happy if one looks closely. Oh, she loves Flack to bits, and she doesn't regret the choice she made, but she senses the walls closing in, feels the vibrations of her restless, uneasy past in the soles of her tiny, frozen feet, and she knows that whatever is coming will come swiftly and strike hard at the one thing she treasures most. She knows and can say nothing; she's a rabbit in a snare, and there is no point in screaming.