New York Minute 17

So, we went to the cabin yesterday overnight; the cabin being just barely on this side of a shack and up by Snoqualmie Pass, where I managed to write just about everything under the sun except NYM. Fortunately, NYM 17 was already written, so...here you go.

( silence hanging heavy as Justice's sword )

*facepalm* There are a couple things I wanted to mention about "What You See Is What You See", but I can only remember one of them, dammit.

The one I do remember is Mac's reaction to seeing Whatshisface, the guy he was talking to about the shooter from the coffee shop, kiss his wife. The other one has fled my mind. It's not how hot Flack looked with the motorcycles, not at all. I'm pretty sure it was something about either Danny or Flack, though.

CSI: NY fic

I think I may have inadvertantly written the first chapter of Omerta. When I say inadvertantly, I mean to say that I started out writing a couple of ficlets about Stella's father and they just sort of spawned plot and continuity. So, er, this is either Omerta, or Danny and Val have done what they've been threatening to do and dropped the beginning of another Danny trilogy on my head. In which case I will be forced to kill them off, horribly.

So, er, bits and pieces of this, which is told from the POV of Nick Bonasera, fresh out of prison. Only bits and pieces because dinner is approaching, and I can't type eight handwritten pages in a very short amount of time. CBS did mention that Stella wanted to find her sister, right?



"Bonasera, Nicholas," the ma said, and Nick smiled at him, feeling the thrill run through his body to settle in the pit of his stomach. I'm getting out. I'll be a free man. I'll see my daughters.

"That's me." He went through his possessions curiously, not really remembering what they were, since it had been so many years from the day they locked him up. There was a wallet with a flurry of faded pictures there and he went through them curiously, spreading them out across the table. He, and Odelia, and Christ but they'd been young then. Pictures of Stella, from the day she'd been born till a blurred snapshot taken at the Central Park zoo, where she'd stood on tiptoe to stretch her hand out toward the baby elephant that had snuffled curiously at them. She'd giggled as she'd run her fingers over its rough, pebbled skin and Odelia had smiled at them, laying her hands protectively over her pregnant belly. There was one picture of Astra tucked amid the stacks of Nick and Odelia and Stella, a tiny sleepy baby with ehr thumb in her mouth and her eyes screwed tightly shut, lying in a rec blanket patterned with stars like a milky banner of victory. My moon and stars, Nick had joked to his wife, and they'd talked about naming their next child after the sun.

*

Thirty years behind bars for robbery he'll admit to and a murder he didn't commit. Used to. Used to be a con man, used to be a thief, used to be a husband and a father and Kevin Price's partner. Now he's not. Now he's just Nick Bonasera, ex-con, ex-husband, but still a man. Still a father, maybe. Maybe. If he can find his daughters, if Odelia wasn't lying when she called him up from a fucking payphone in fucking Nebraska, Omaha fucking Nebraska, and told him she'd left his daughters at an orphanage in New York.

His daughters. In a fucking orphanage.

Jesus Christ, and she'd just left them there, like you would a dog you did like at the pound. His kids, and Nick had thought of abusive foster homes with sick horror in his stomach and signed the divorce papers Odelia had sent him a month later without regret.

*

And then, having met Don Luciano Constantine in prison, Val sends a car and Carmine d'Alessandro to pick him up, and things pretty much go downhill from there. We learn the Patriso tried to toss Danny off a bridge.