CSI:NY fic: "There Will Be Time"
Jan. 29th, 2008 07:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bedlamsbardTitle: There Will Be Time
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bedlamsbard
Fandom: CSI:NY
Rating: PG
Summary: He finds her later in The World’s End, sitting at the bar with her hands wrapped around a beer that’s long since gone warm and flat. Flack/Messer, AU, post-"All in the Family."
Warnings: Genderfuck.
Author's Notes: Forlimmenel. Not exactly Mafia princess Dani, but Dani nonetheless. Happy belated birthday!
Disclaimer: CSI:NY belongs to Jerry Bruckheimer and CBS, of which I am neither.
“How?” Dani says, sounding utterly broken. “How can I do that?”
Flack knows the words, but he can’t think of them just now, not with Dani looking at him with tears welling up behind her glasses, and she leaves before he can say anything else, like stay or wait or Dani, I tried, because he doesn’t even know how to end that.
He finds her later in The World’s End, sitting at the bar with her hands wrapped around a beer that’s long since gone warm and flat. “Go away,” Dani says when he slides onto the stool next to her and motions for the bartender.
“No,” Flack says, ordering a pair of beers. He takes Dani’s away from her, ignoring the way she bats at his hand. “You just do,” he tells her.
She looks confused. “What?”
“You just do,” he repeats. “Get over it. There’s no magic cure, no – scientific formula. You just wait, and it happens.” He doesn’t say sometimes, because Dani doesn’t need to hear that and he needs her to come back to him. Them. They don’t need another Aiden.
Dani takes the (fresh, cold) beer the bartender hands her and sips at it. “I don’t know if I can do that,” she admits finally. “I could have done something –”
And it’s the same old song, but Flack’s grateful for that anyway, because at least she’s saying something. “No, you couldn’t have,” he says gently. “You did the best you could at the time.”
She stares off behind the bar. “People keep telling me that,” she says. “I just – Ricky lost her kid. And I keep thinking – I keep thinking.”
“About what?” Flack asks. He’s watching her, trying to read her face, because Dani’s damn good at hiding her feelings but she’s been known to let things slip.
Dani looks down. “If that would have been my kid,” she mumbles.
Flack’s startled enough that he barks out, “What?” with no regard for Dani’s feelings at the moment.
He sees her take a deep breath before she turns toward him. “Sonny got me pregnant,” she says. “I was sixteen. Louie helped me take care of it.” When she looks at him, her face is open and scared, and Flack can tell how much this is costing her to say. She swallows, and then continues when he doesn’t say anything, “I just – it could have been my kid, and I lost my kid, and Ricky – I could have been her, and I can’t – I can’t stop thinking about that, Don.”
“Jesus, Dani,” he says, because it’s the only thing he can think to say. “I didn’t –”
“No, you didn’t,” Dani says. “Louie’s the only one who knows.” Her face closes off suddenly and just like that it’s not about Ricky and Ruben anymore; it’s about Dani fucking Messer. “Sonny doesn’t know. I think if he knew, he’d kill me.”
Flack reaches across to her and takes her small, scarred hands in his big ones. “I’ll shoot him for you, if you want,” he says, because it’s the only thing he can think of.
Dani snorts. “I’ll shoot him myself if he comes near me again,” she says, and Flack remembers her punching Sonny Sassone in the jaw, eyes wide and hair wild around her face, screaming at him as Flack dragged her off her feet and away.
Carefully, Flack raises her hands to his mouth and kisses them one after the other, lips brushing lightly over the knuckles. He expects Dani to pull away, but she doesn’t, just smiles, mysterious and a little sad.
“Thanks, Don,” she says. “Let me buy you another drink.”
“It’s on the house,” Flack points out.
“Benefit of owning the joint,” Dani says, tilting her head to get the bartender over. She orders, and it’s only then that Flack realizes he’s still holding her hands. He knows – both of them know – that getting involved would be stupid, not when being a female cop’s still a chancy thing, not when they work together, not with Dani’s shaky reputation among the NYPD. There’s a reason they haven’t gone any further than this. They’re friends, nothing more.
Maybe one day, though. If he ever gets transferred away from CSU, if Dani leaves the NYPD like she occasionally threatens to when she’s really pissed at Mac – maybe one day. Or maybe not. Friendship’s enough for him, and always has been.
Dani takes her hands out of his, thumbs brushing lightly over his palms. “Thanks again, Don,” she says. “I know I was kind of a bitch about the whole thing.”
“You’re my friend,” Flack says, and the words sound like a promise. “I’ll always be there.”
end
Author:
bedlamsbardFandom: CSI:NY
Rating: PG
Summary: He finds her later in The World’s End, sitting at the bar with her hands wrapped around a beer that’s long since gone warm and flat. Flack/Messer, AU, post-"All in the Family."
Warnings: Genderfuck.
Author's Notes: For
limmenel. Not exactly Mafia princess Dani, but Dani nonetheless. Happy belated birthday!Disclaimer: CSI:NY belongs to Jerry Bruckheimer and CBS, of which I am neither.
“How?” Dani says, sounding utterly broken. “How can I do that?”
Flack knows the words, but he can’t think of them just now, not with Dani looking at him with tears welling up behind her glasses, and she leaves before he can say anything else, like stay or wait or Dani, I tried, because he doesn’t even know how to end that.
He finds her later in The World’s End, sitting at the bar with her hands wrapped around a beer that’s long since gone warm and flat. “Go away,” Dani says when he slides onto the stool next to her and motions for the bartender.
“No,” Flack says, ordering a pair of beers. He takes Dani’s away from her, ignoring the way she bats at his hand. “You just do,” he tells her.
She looks confused. “What?”
“You just do,” he repeats. “Get over it. There’s no magic cure, no – scientific formula. You just wait, and it happens.” He doesn’t say sometimes, because Dani doesn’t need to hear that and he needs her to come back to him. Them. They don’t need another Aiden.
Dani takes the (fresh, cold) beer the bartender hands her and sips at it. “I don’t know if I can do that,” she admits finally. “I could have done something –”
And it’s the same old song, but Flack’s grateful for that anyway, because at least she’s saying something. “No, you couldn’t have,” he says gently. “You did the best you could at the time.”
She stares off behind the bar. “People keep telling me that,” she says. “I just – Ricky lost her kid. And I keep thinking – I keep thinking.”
“About what?” Flack asks. He’s watching her, trying to read her face, because Dani’s damn good at hiding her feelings but she’s been known to let things slip.
Dani looks down. “If that would have been my kid,” she mumbles.
Flack’s startled enough that he barks out, “What?” with no regard for Dani’s feelings at the moment.
He sees her take a deep breath before she turns toward him. “Sonny got me pregnant,” she says. “I was sixteen. Louie helped me take care of it.” When she looks at him, her face is open and scared, and Flack can tell how much this is costing her to say. She swallows, and then continues when he doesn’t say anything, “I just – it could have been my kid, and I lost my kid, and Ricky – I could have been her, and I can’t – I can’t stop thinking about that, Don.”
“Jesus, Dani,” he says, because it’s the only thing he can think to say. “I didn’t –”
“No, you didn’t,” Dani says. “Louie’s the only one who knows.” Her face closes off suddenly and just like that it’s not about Ricky and Ruben anymore; it’s about Dani fucking Messer. “Sonny doesn’t know. I think if he knew, he’d kill me.”
Flack reaches across to her and takes her small, scarred hands in his big ones. “I’ll shoot him for you, if you want,” he says, because it’s the only thing he can think of.
Dani snorts. “I’ll shoot him myself if he comes near me again,” she says, and Flack remembers her punching Sonny Sassone in the jaw, eyes wide and hair wild around her face, screaming at him as Flack dragged her off her feet and away.
Carefully, Flack raises her hands to his mouth and kisses them one after the other, lips brushing lightly over the knuckles. He expects Dani to pull away, but she doesn’t, just smiles, mysterious and a little sad.
“Thanks, Don,” she says. “Let me buy you another drink.”
“It’s on the house,” Flack points out.
“Benefit of owning the joint,” Dani says, tilting her head to get the bartender over. She orders, and it’s only then that Flack realizes he’s still holding her hands. He knows – both of them know – that getting involved would be stupid, not when being a female cop’s still a chancy thing, not when they work together, not with Dani’s shaky reputation among the NYPD. There’s a reason they haven’t gone any further than this. They’re friends, nothing more.
Maybe one day, though. If he ever gets transferred away from CSU, if Dani leaves the NYPD like she occasionally threatens to when she’s really pissed at Mac – maybe one day. Or maybe not. Friendship’s enough for him, and always has been.
Dani takes her hands out of his, thumbs brushing lightly over his palms. “Thanks again, Don,” she says. “I know I was kind of a bitch about the whole thing.”
“You’re my friend,” Flack says, and the words sound like a promise. “I’ll always be there.”
end
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-02-01 04:23 pm (UTC)My only problem is that I'm having trouble picturing Dani. (I don't, oddly enough, have the same difficulty with Donna.) Visual prompt?
(no subject)
Date: 2008-02-02 11:58 pm (UTC)My only problem is that I'm having trouble picturing Dani. (I don't, oddly enough, have the same difficulty with Donna.) Visual prompt?
Oh, God, I don't know. I'm the least visual writer ever. Maybe Diane Farr (http://tv.yahoo.com/diane-farr/contributor/384497/photos/1)? (Her eyes look really weird in this picture, by the way.) She doesn't have the New York accent, but the look's not that far off of Carmine Giovinazzo.