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bedlamsbard*facepalm* I don't deserve you people, swear to God. You guys rock like things that rock mightily.
And for which, I offer up porn. Lotta people in the crime lab getting laid this night. Poor Aiden, all alone.
Danny woke up from a very nice dream involving Flack, handcuffs, and whipped cream in strategic places to find the real Flack sitting at the foot of the couch with his legs stretched out beneath the coffee table, mechanically excavating the last of the Chinese takeout he’d ordered when he’d come home.
“Hey,” he said, and leaned down to kiss Flack on the mouth.
Flack tilted his head to get a better angle, and what had been a friendly welcome home kiss turned into something else entirely. “Mmm,” Danny said, pulling away reluctantly. “If this is the reward I get everytime I wake up, I’m going to start catnapping more often.” He pressed another kiss against Flack’s lips. “You were drinking,” he added. “Bring anything home for me?”
“Went out with an old friend,” Flack said. “The Black Emerald in the Bronx. Ya know it?”
“Don’t think so. The Bronx?”
“Yeah.” He leaned back against Danny’s legs, and Danny dragged his fingers through his thick hair. “Met a relative of yours,” he added, eyes half-closed.
Danny blinked in surprise. “One of my brothers?” he hazarded, as the only members of his family that were likely to acknowledge his existence. He hadn’t thought any of them were working the Bronx, though. Last he’d heard, Chris was working a precinct in Staten Island, Eddie had been working Narco in Brooklyn South, and Nate had a detective gig somewhere in Manhattan that wasn’t the twelfth.
“Eddie, yeah. Sergeant, works Narco?”
“Didn’t know he’d been promoted, but yeah, that’s him. He’s the oldest.” Danny closed his eyes, tried to remember his brother as he’d last seen him, and had only a vague memory of Eddie at twenty-five, when he’d come to visit Danny on his birthday barely a week after he’d left Tanglewood for good. Eddie was the one who’d always gotten along best with Danny, maybe because of the difference in their ages. He and his closest brother Nate had never gotten along, which hadn’t worked out too well when they’d had to share a room for most of their lives. “He workin’ the Bronx now?”
“So I heard from Gavin.” He leaned into Danny’s touch, dropping the empty Chinese container with the rest of the others on the coffee table. “God, that feels good. When’d you get back?”
“Aid and I dropped off the stuff we collected from Anna Dove’s office, then called it a day. You musta left before we got there, though, I didn’t see you anywhere.”
“Yeah, I guess. You guys get anything good?”
“A few things, yeah.”
“Suspects?”
“A couple of ‘em. Seems our lawyer was cheating on his fiancé with our vic.”
“That’s textbook motive roight there.”
“And our vic was trying to get pregnant.”
“Huh.”
Danny leaned down to kiss him again, and Flack twisted around to get one hand on his neck and half-pull him off the couch. “So you missed me, huh?” he said finally, when he’d gotten his breath back.
“Oh, yeah,” Flack replied, and reached up to try and kiss him again.
Danny tumbled off the couch, fortunately missed hitting the coffee table, and crawled into Flack’s lap. “Still miss me?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said again, and then, “Oh, God,” as Danny ran a hand down Flack’s abdomen to rub lightly against his dick.
“Looks like you got quite an ache there, Detective,” Danny grinned, nipping lightly at Flack’s neck.
“Fuck you, Messer, you fucking tease, you –”
Danny ran his tongue over his Adam’s apple, and Flack jumped and swore against his cheek. “You know,” he said, “I have a perfectly good bed.”
“You got a perfectly good floor too, so I don’t see why – oh, motherfucking Christ, Danny.”
He pulled away, grinning at Flack’s wail of frustration. “Yeah, but see, I got bored waiting for you to get home, so I went and made some special preparations..”
Flack opened one glazed eye. “There better be chocolate sauce involved.”
Danny reached down and hauled him to his feet. “Nope, but there’s me. That make up for it?”
“Depends,” Flack said, and stumbled forward to kiss Danny again.
They lost most of their clothes on the way down the hall, so by the time he shoved Flack against the wall next to the door to kiss him fiercely they were both down to their boxers and not much else. Handy, that.
Flack’s hands were tangled in his hair and he was whimpering as Danny kissed his way down his chest, following the trail of dark hair lower and lower until he finally tugged Flack’s boxers down over his hips. Flack yelped and bucked furiously at his mouth when Danny slid his lips over his cock.
“Fuck, Danny, you sweet bastard, you – oh fucking Christ, motherfuck, Danny –”
He braced one hand on the wall and the other on Flack’s hip, slid his mouth up and down, licking and sucking, and now and then scraping his teeth, varying the rhythm, trying not to flinch when Flack nearly pulled his hair out of his scalp, his hands, his whole fucking body, shaking, twitching. He was so hard it hurt, but he had his plans, and he kept his hands on the wall and on Flack and every time they slipped even an inch he thought of autopsies, crime scenes – Tanglewood, and Christ, that didn’t help a fucking bit, because now he remembered Sonny, and that’s the last thing he wanted to think about when he was with Flack.
Flack came with a strangled shout, fingers dug so deep into Danny’s scalp they bypassed the hair altogether and punched through to his scalp. He was shaking, sliding limply down the wall to crash forward against Danny and press cool lips against his neck, his jawline, his cheekbone, mouth dancing over one eye then the other, his nose, nibbling briefly on one ear, everywhere but his mouth. Softly – “You still got too many fucking clothes on, partner,” he said breathlessly against the scar on Danny’s forehead.
Danny slid his hand along Flack’s hand and swallowed before he spoke, licking the last drops off his neck. “You wanna help with that?” he asked when he’d gotten his breath back.
Flack kissed him, but only lightly, pulling back when Danny tried to deepen the kiss. “Oh, hell yeah.”
“You fucking tease,” Danny said, and let Flack’s hands find their way down his boxers, sliding them over his hips. They got tangled up around his ankles and he kicked furiously at them, glaring at Flack when the other detective leaned back against the wall and chuckled. “Bastard.”
“Come on, ya can’t deny ya don’t like it.”
“I’ll show you what I can deny,” Danny said, finally getting them off. He got to his feet, enjoying the play off Flack’s eyes on his cock, and then walked backward toward the bed, beckoning with one hand. “Ya wanna see what it is? Trust me, I brought a little somethin’ home from work again.”
Flack leaned against the wall, closed his eyes halfway. “What, ya try and sneak the body drawers out again? Find Hawkes in one of ‘em with – I dunno, Stella or somethin’?”
Danny snorted. “You’re behind on the gossip, pal. Current word on the grapevine is Stella’s in love with Mac.” He reached behind him, dug in his desk drawer.
“What’s new about that?”
“Besides the fact that, oh, Aid an’ I saw ‘em getting in a car together when we got back to the lab a couple hours ago?”
Flack opened one eye. “Come on, Danny, talking about Mac ain’t helping the mood here. I got no burning desire to picture Mac naked. Stella, on the other hand –”
“Flack, you’re a pig.”
“I’m a guy, ‘s’what I am. Got eyes. C’mon, don’t tell me you’ve never looked, or thought about it –”
Danny shook his head. “Professional courtesy. You heard of it?”
“Think it mighta come up in that sensitivity seminar they made me take. I wouldn’t know; I slept through mosta it.”
“Well, I coulda told you that one.” He held up the handcuffs. “Look, I brought ya a present. Maybe that’ll help clear your mind.”
Flack’s eyes lit up, and he managed to make it over to the bed without falling over. “Why the hell’d you not mention that in the first place, Messer? Coulda forgotten the all’a the banter, gotten straight down to business.”
“You’re just trying to get outta paying your share of rent for the month,” Danny teased.
“Damn right I am.”
Danny laughed, leaned forward and kissed him, digging his free hand into his hip and tipping him back onto the unmade bed. He couldn’t think of the last time either of them had made it; no real reason when they messed it up most nights anyway. Easier to just throw fresh sheets whenever one of them felt like it. God, he hoped no one ever had reason to run an ALS over the apartment; the whole place would light up like a fucking Christmas tree.
Flack kissed him back, ran one foot up his calf and made to loop his arms around his neck, but Danny caught them at the wrists and nudged Flack back until he could comfortably reach the bedpost. He felt Flack shudder beneath him as he clicked first one handcuff shut, then the other, the chain looped around the bedpost. His eyes, already glazed over, were starting to take on the milky look of a corpse’s and – wow, that was a turn-off.
Danny sat back, pleased, and was careful to rest over a few key parts of Flack’s anatomy. “Think I’ll go out for coffee,” he said. “You want something?”
“You’re a sick, twisted bastard, Messer,” Flack said, squirming experimentally beneath him.
Danny leaned forward again, stretched the length of his body so that he covered Flack’s lanky frame as well as he could. He kicked the sheets aside to the corner of the bed. “So I’ve heard,” he murmured, and ran his tongue over Flack’s Adam’s apple.
“Danny –” Almost a plea, a shaky, whimpering note in Flack’s voice he never heard except when he had him like this, stretched out beneath him with cool metal on his wrists. That low caramel timbre was enough to get an NC-17 label slapped on it in and of itself.
Danny cupped his face with his palms. “See,” he said conversationally. “I haven’t slept in over forty-eight hours, and I guess we both know that you ain’t really the soundest of sleepers. I figure you need sleep almost as bad as I do, maybe more, ‘cause I just had a nap and you had nightmares the last time you slept. So, I guess that, you know, we wear ourselves out enough that we can’t think, let alone dream, and then nothing’ll wake us up till it’s time to rise and shine in sunny New York City, finest city in the world. Whatta you think?”
“I think that if you don’t fuck me right now, Danny Messer, I’m gonna break your fine, walnut-cracking ass,” Flack managed.
“With your hands cuffed?”
“I’m talented like that.”
Danny grinned and leaned down and kissed him. Kissed him long, letting Flack’s tongue stab and explore and push up against his, then break away long enough for them both to get their breath back and go back in for a second round. “Knockout,” he said when he finally managed to pull away.
“Huh?”
“Never mind. I got lube somewhere –”
Flack arched his hips up against Danny’s, grinding their dicks together. Danny yelped. “Forget it, Messer. You couldn’t find a body in a morgue, so get your –”
Danny cut him off with another kiss. He ran a hand down between their bodies to fondle Flack’s cock. “Well, I found this,” he said. “Think it’ll work?”
“Soon as I get free, I’m gonna fucking kill you – oh, Christ, Danny – hide the body, you goddamn CSIs – motherfuck – taught me that much.” He wrapped his legs around Danny’s waist, lifted his hips off the bed so he could get better leverage. Danny fit one hand around Flack’s waist to brace himself, then thrust, slowly, watching the strain on Flack’s face. His partner’s eyes were closed and there was sweat beading across his brow, and there were red marks on his wrists where the cuffs had shifted position.
Danny pressed another kiss to his throat. It took a minute for him to establish a rhythm, then he found his spot and let Flack strain against him, cock hard and hot against his hand, and bite out curses that even he wouldn’t say in public.
He came with sun flaring over his eyes, with every nerve in his body twang!ing and releasing at once, and Flack arched against him too, muffling a scream with his teeth set in Danny’s shoulder.
“Fuck,” Danny said when he’d gotten his breath and most of his brains back.
“Umph,” Flack said in reply, and didn’t move. Danny knew from experience he wouldn’t be good for anything for at least a half-hour, and after that he’d need a detailed diagram just to dial a phone for another hour. “Erm.”
Danny leaned over and kissed him, reached absently for the tangle of sheets at the foot of the bed to try and make an attempt at cleaning them both off. “Uh,” he said. “I – uh – better try to find the key. Where’s the last place I used these cuffs?”
Flack opened one eye. “Don’ make me kill you,” he said.
“No, I’m serious. You think I maybe left it back at the lab?”
“Danny.”
He crawled over Flack to dig through the mess of debris in the drawer of night table. “Will just any key work in these cuffs? I got two here.”
Flack closed his eye. “Screw you, Messer.”
“God, you can’t take a joke anymore.” Danny twisted up him, dropping a couple kisses in the general vicinity of his mouth, then fit one key into the lock. The cuffs sprang away, and he let them fall to the floor as Flack fit an arm around his waist and pulled him down.
“And you never hold still,” he said, which was probably the most words he’d ever fit together in a coherent sentence after sex. As an afterthought, he added, “Or shut up.”
Danny pressed a kiss to his jawbone. “What’s your point?”
*pokes at vague SCU: Boston ideas*
And for which, I offer up porn. Lotta people in the crime lab getting laid this night. Poor Aiden, all alone.
Danny woke up from a very nice dream involving Flack, handcuffs, and whipped cream in strategic places to find the real Flack sitting at the foot of the couch with his legs stretched out beneath the coffee table, mechanically excavating the last of the Chinese takeout he’d ordered when he’d come home.
“Hey,” he said, and leaned down to kiss Flack on the mouth.
Flack tilted his head to get a better angle, and what had been a friendly welcome home kiss turned into something else entirely. “Mmm,” Danny said, pulling away reluctantly. “If this is the reward I get everytime I wake up, I’m going to start catnapping more often.” He pressed another kiss against Flack’s lips. “You were drinking,” he added. “Bring anything home for me?”
“Went out with an old friend,” Flack said. “The Black Emerald in the Bronx. Ya know it?”
“Don’t think so. The Bronx?”
“Yeah.” He leaned back against Danny’s legs, and Danny dragged his fingers through his thick hair. “Met a relative of yours,” he added, eyes half-closed.
Danny blinked in surprise. “One of my brothers?” he hazarded, as the only members of his family that were likely to acknowledge his existence. He hadn’t thought any of them were working the Bronx, though. Last he’d heard, Chris was working a precinct in Staten Island, Eddie had been working Narco in Brooklyn South, and Nate had a detective gig somewhere in Manhattan that wasn’t the twelfth.
“Eddie, yeah. Sergeant, works Narco?”
“Didn’t know he’d been promoted, but yeah, that’s him. He’s the oldest.” Danny closed his eyes, tried to remember his brother as he’d last seen him, and had only a vague memory of Eddie at twenty-five, when he’d come to visit Danny on his birthday barely a week after he’d left Tanglewood for good. Eddie was the one who’d always gotten along best with Danny, maybe because of the difference in their ages. He and his closest brother Nate had never gotten along, which hadn’t worked out too well when they’d had to share a room for most of their lives. “He workin’ the Bronx now?”
“So I heard from Gavin.” He leaned into Danny’s touch, dropping the empty Chinese container with the rest of the others on the coffee table. “God, that feels good. When’d you get back?”
“Aid and I dropped off the stuff we collected from Anna Dove’s office, then called it a day. You musta left before we got there, though, I didn’t see you anywhere.”
“Yeah, I guess. You guys get anything good?”
“A few things, yeah.”
“Suspects?”
“A couple of ‘em. Seems our lawyer was cheating on his fiancé with our vic.”
“That’s textbook motive roight there.”
“And our vic was trying to get pregnant.”
“Huh.”
Danny leaned down to kiss him again, and Flack twisted around to get one hand on his neck and half-pull him off the couch. “So you missed me, huh?” he said finally, when he’d gotten his breath back.
“Oh, yeah,” Flack replied, and reached up to try and kiss him again.
Danny tumbled off the couch, fortunately missed hitting the coffee table, and crawled into Flack’s lap. “Still miss me?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said again, and then, “Oh, God,” as Danny ran a hand down Flack’s abdomen to rub lightly against his dick.
“Looks like you got quite an ache there, Detective,” Danny grinned, nipping lightly at Flack’s neck.
“Fuck you, Messer, you fucking tease, you –”
Danny ran his tongue over his Adam’s apple, and Flack jumped and swore against his cheek. “You know,” he said, “I have a perfectly good bed.”
“You got a perfectly good floor too, so I don’t see why – oh, motherfucking Christ, Danny.”
He pulled away, grinning at Flack’s wail of frustration. “Yeah, but see, I got bored waiting for you to get home, so I went and made some special preparations..”
Flack opened one glazed eye. “There better be chocolate sauce involved.”
Danny reached down and hauled him to his feet. “Nope, but there’s me. That make up for it?”
“Depends,” Flack said, and stumbled forward to kiss Danny again.
They lost most of their clothes on the way down the hall, so by the time he shoved Flack against the wall next to the door to kiss him fiercely they were both down to their boxers and not much else. Handy, that.
Flack’s hands were tangled in his hair and he was whimpering as Danny kissed his way down his chest, following the trail of dark hair lower and lower until he finally tugged Flack’s boxers down over his hips. Flack yelped and bucked furiously at his mouth when Danny slid his lips over his cock.
“Fuck, Danny, you sweet bastard, you – oh fucking Christ, motherfuck, Danny –”
He braced one hand on the wall and the other on Flack’s hip, slid his mouth up and down, licking and sucking, and now and then scraping his teeth, varying the rhythm, trying not to flinch when Flack nearly pulled his hair out of his scalp, his hands, his whole fucking body, shaking, twitching. He was so hard it hurt, but he had his plans, and he kept his hands on the wall and on Flack and every time they slipped even an inch he thought of autopsies, crime scenes – Tanglewood, and Christ, that didn’t help a fucking bit, because now he remembered Sonny, and that’s the last thing he wanted to think about when he was with Flack.
Flack came with a strangled shout, fingers dug so deep into Danny’s scalp they bypassed the hair altogether and punched through to his scalp. He was shaking, sliding limply down the wall to crash forward against Danny and press cool lips against his neck, his jawline, his cheekbone, mouth dancing over one eye then the other, his nose, nibbling briefly on one ear, everywhere but his mouth. Softly – “You still got too many fucking clothes on, partner,” he said breathlessly against the scar on Danny’s forehead.
Danny slid his hand along Flack’s hand and swallowed before he spoke, licking the last drops off his neck. “You wanna help with that?” he asked when he’d gotten his breath back.
Flack kissed him, but only lightly, pulling back when Danny tried to deepen the kiss. “Oh, hell yeah.”
“You fucking tease,” Danny said, and let Flack’s hands find their way down his boxers, sliding them over his hips. They got tangled up around his ankles and he kicked furiously at them, glaring at Flack when the other detective leaned back against the wall and chuckled. “Bastard.”
“Come on, ya can’t deny ya don’t like it.”
“I’ll show you what I can deny,” Danny said, finally getting them off. He got to his feet, enjoying the play off Flack’s eyes on his cock, and then walked backward toward the bed, beckoning with one hand. “Ya wanna see what it is? Trust me, I brought a little somethin’ home from work again.”
Flack leaned against the wall, closed his eyes halfway. “What, ya try and sneak the body drawers out again? Find Hawkes in one of ‘em with – I dunno, Stella or somethin’?”
Danny snorted. “You’re behind on the gossip, pal. Current word on the grapevine is Stella’s in love with Mac.” He reached behind him, dug in his desk drawer.
“What’s new about that?”
“Besides the fact that, oh, Aid an’ I saw ‘em getting in a car together when we got back to the lab a couple hours ago?”
Flack opened one eye. “Come on, Danny, talking about Mac ain’t helping the mood here. I got no burning desire to picture Mac naked. Stella, on the other hand –”
“Flack, you’re a pig.”
“I’m a guy, ‘s’what I am. Got eyes. C’mon, don’t tell me you’ve never looked, or thought about it –”
Danny shook his head. “Professional courtesy. You heard of it?”
“Think it mighta come up in that sensitivity seminar they made me take. I wouldn’t know; I slept through mosta it.”
“Well, I coulda told you that one.” He held up the handcuffs. “Look, I brought ya a present. Maybe that’ll help clear your mind.”
Flack’s eyes lit up, and he managed to make it over to the bed without falling over. “Why the hell’d you not mention that in the first place, Messer? Coulda forgotten the all’a the banter, gotten straight down to business.”
“You’re just trying to get outta paying your share of rent for the month,” Danny teased.
“Damn right I am.”
Danny laughed, leaned forward and kissed him, digging his free hand into his hip and tipping him back onto the unmade bed. He couldn’t think of the last time either of them had made it; no real reason when they messed it up most nights anyway. Easier to just throw fresh sheets whenever one of them felt like it. God, he hoped no one ever had reason to run an ALS over the apartment; the whole place would light up like a fucking Christmas tree.
Flack kissed him back, ran one foot up his calf and made to loop his arms around his neck, but Danny caught them at the wrists and nudged Flack back until he could comfortably reach the bedpost. He felt Flack shudder beneath him as he clicked first one handcuff shut, then the other, the chain looped around the bedpost. His eyes, already glazed over, were starting to take on the milky look of a corpse’s and – wow, that was a turn-off.
Danny sat back, pleased, and was careful to rest over a few key parts of Flack’s anatomy. “Think I’ll go out for coffee,” he said. “You want something?”
“You’re a sick, twisted bastard, Messer,” Flack said, squirming experimentally beneath him.
Danny leaned forward again, stretched the length of his body so that he covered Flack’s lanky frame as well as he could. He kicked the sheets aside to the corner of the bed. “So I’ve heard,” he murmured, and ran his tongue over Flack’s Adam’s apple.
“Danny –” Almost a plea, a shaky, whimpering note in Flack’s voice he never heard except when he had him like this, stretched out beneath him with cool metal on his wrists. That low caramel timbre was enough to get an NC-17 label slapped on it in and of itself.
Danny cupped his face with his palms. “See,” he said conversationally. “I haven’t slept in over forty-eight hours, and I guess we both know that you ain’t really the soundest of sleepers. I figure you need sleep almost as bad as I do, maybe more, ‘cause I just had a nap and you had nightmares the last time you slept. So, I guess that, you know, we wear ourselves out enough that we can’t think, let alone dream, and then nothing’ll wake us up till it’s time to rise and shine in sunny New York City, finest city in the world. Whatta you think?”
“I think that if you don’t fuck me right now, Danny Messer, I’m gonna break your fine, walnut-cracking ass,” Flack managed.
“With your hands cuffed?”
“I’m talented like that.”
Danny grinned and leaned down and kissed him. Kissed him long, letting Flack’s tongue stab and explore and push up against his, then break away long enough for them both to get their breath back and go back in for a second round. “Knockout,” he said when he finally managed to pull away.
“Huh?”
“Never mind. I got lube somewhere –”
Flack arched his hips up against Danny’s, grinding their dicks together. Danny yelped. “Forget it, Messer. You couldn’t find a body in a morgue, so get your –”
Danny cut him off with another kiss. He ran a hand down between their bodies to fondle Flack’s cock. “Well, I found this,” he said. “Think it’ll work?”
“Soon as I get free, I’m gonna fucking kill you – oh, Christ, Danny – hide the body, you goddamn CSIs – motherfuck – taught me that much.” He wrapped his legs around Danny’s waist, lifted his hips off the bed so he could get better leverage. Danny fit one hand around Flack’s waist to brace himself, then thrust, slowly, watching the strain on Flack’s face. His partner’s eyes were closed and there was sweat beading across his brow, and there were red marks on his wrists where the cuffs had shifted position.
Danny pressed another kiss to his throat. It took a minute for him to establish a rhythm, then he found his spot and let Flack strain against him, cock hard and hot against his hand, and bite out curses that even he wouldn’t say in public.
He came with sun flaring over his eyes, with every nerve in his body twang!ing and releasing at once, and Flack arched against him too, muffling a scream with his teeth set in Danny’s shoulder.
“Fuck,” Danny said when he’d gotten his breath and most of his brains back.
“Umph,” Flack said in reply, and didn’t move. Danny knew from experience he wouldn’t be good for anything for at least a half-hour, and after that he’d need a detailed diagram just to dial a phone for another hour. “Erm.”
Danny leaned over and kissed him, reached absently for the tangle of sheets at the foot of the bed to try and make an attempt at cleaning them both off. “Uh,” he said. “I – uh – better try to find the key. Where’s the last place I used these cuffs?”
Flack opened one eye. “Don’ make me kill you,” he said.
“No, I’m serious. You think I maybe left it back at the lab?”
“Danny.”
He crawled over Flack to dig through the mess of debris in the drawer of night table. “Will just any key work in these cuffs? I got two here.”
Flack closed his eye. “Screw you, Messer.”
“God, you can’t take a joke anymore.” Danny twisted up him, dropping a couple kisses in the general vicinity of his mouth, then fit one key into the lock. The cuffs sprang away, and he let them fall to the floor as Flack fit an arm around his waist and pulled him down.
“And you never hold still,” he said, which was probably the most words he’d ever fit together in a coherent sentence after sex. As an afterthought, he added, “Or shut up.”
Danny pressed a kiss to his jawbone. “What’s your point?”
*pokes at vague SCU: Boston ideas*
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-12 12:06 am (UTC)...
...*porn*
pornpornporn! <3
hot. So hot! So *them*. Cocky horny teeth-clicking *boys*, the both of them. Yaaaaaagh. <3 Hot.
*pokes at vague SCU: Boston ideas*
shiny!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-12 12:45 am (UTC)shiny!
Chris seems pretty sure someone died in his apartment, so he wants to come stay with Jimmy. And get drunk.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-12 12:51 am (UTC)If they did, it wouldn't be nearly them. :)
And finally, someone in this story got laid and isn't freaking out about it. (Mac. Hi.)
Mac freaks about everything, though. And damn, did I mention that this was hot porn?
Chris seems pretty sure someone died in his apartment, so he wants to come stay with Jimmy.
*snicker* You know, that sounds a *lot* like the plot of a severely demented children's book? I can just see the illustrations...
More seriously, I don't blame the poor guy.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-12 01:13 am (UTC)Plus, it adds to the wordcount.Mac freaks about everything, though.
This is a fact. Hmm. How is he going to react to Stella's opening comment of, "Did we have sex last night?"
...not well.
And damn, did I mention that this was hot porn?
Once or twice.
You know, that sounds a *lot* like the plot of a severely demented children's book? I can just see the illustrations...
*facepalm* Oh, God.
More seriously, I don't blame the poor guy.
Neither do I. And oh, but Jimmy is the best partner ever. "Are you drunk?" "...we're at work." "Point. You wanna get drunk?" "Oh, God, can we?"
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-12 01:20 am (UTC)...not well.
"...yeees..."
"Was it good?"
*flail!*
Once or twice.
This was really hot porn.
"Are you drunk?" "...we're at work." "Point. You wanna get drunk?" "Oh, God, can we?"
Hands-down. A-fucking-men to that. Jimmy's definitely god his head on straight. (of course, I'm sure Chris does too, it's just like having your head on straight but wrapped in a towel. Made of dead people.)
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-12 01:43 am (UTC)"Was it good?"
*flail!*
*snicker* Yes, indeed. Which is quickly followed by, "You know, if you really want to pretend it didn't happen, you should get a shirt with a higher collar. Because otherwise the lab techs are going to be wondering about the hickey on your neck."
Of course, Aiden's rant upon coming into work the next morning is, "Why did everyone get laid last night except me? I mean, even Ma-aahah-ary - hi, Mac, how's your case goin'?"
Hands-down. A-fucking-men to that. Jimmy's definitely god his head on straight. (of course, I'm sure Chris does too, it's just like having your head on straight but wrapped in a towel. Made of dead people.)
Oh, all the SCU people are a little crazy. Some of them are a lot crazy *glares at Lieutenant Fitzgerald* It's why they got shuffled off to SCU, after all. Of course, Jimmy's
Luke Skywalker obsessed with finding out who killed his father, but otherwise he's one of the sanest people there, aside from the women.(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-12 02:14 am (UTC)I can just picture him trying to shave while thinking about/staring at the hickey. *stare. stare. drag-SLICE!-stare...*
Of course, Aiden's rant upon coming into work the next morning is, "Why did everyone get laid last night except me? I mean, even Ma-aahah-ary - hi, Mac, how's your case goin'?"
*snort*
You know Aiden, I'm sure Danny and Flack would be amenable if you just asked...She should go seduce Jane Parsons just *because*. /vindictive.
Oh, all the SCU people are a little crazy. Some of them are a lot crazy *glares at Lieutenant Fitzgerald* It's why they got shuffled off to SCU, after all.
Makes sense. After all, Boston's got a whole density of crazy stuffed into every crack in the pavement. As I said, I'm sure the psychiatric ER at MGH just *loves* them:
"We got this guy says he's seein' dead people--"
"Well, call the cops."
"He ain't violent."
"No, no, the cops."
"Ohhhhhh."
Of course, Jimmy's Luke Skywalker obsessed with finding out who killed his father, but otherwise he's one of the sanest people there, aside from the women.
They've got one of those sanity charts too, don't they... right next to the "Have You Had Your Emotional Breakdown Today?" motivational poster.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-12 09:07 pm (UTC)*snicker*
You know Aiden, I'm sure Danny and Flack would be amenable if you just asked...
Oh, absolutely. *sudden realization* So many ships are going to crash and burn when she dies...YES! ...not a Danny/Aiden or Flack/Aiden fan.
She should go seduce Jane Parsons just *because*. /vindictive.
Okay, now that I'd like to see.
...I'm probably the only one in the fandom who actually wouldn't mind seeing her with Chad, aren't I? I don't mind the guy, even if he is weird.
Makes sense. After all, Boston's got a whole density of crazy stuffed into every crack in the pavement. As I said, I'm sure the psychiatric ER at MGH just *loves* them:
"We got this guy says he's seein' dead people--"
"Well, call the cops."
"He ain't violent."
"No, no, the cops."
"Ohhhhhh."
*snicker* Oh, yeah, absolutely. Although technically it'd be PARIAH dealing with most problems, but they're a whole 'nother bucket of crazy. Man, would PARIAH Research ever love to get their hands on a guy that sees ghosts...
They've got one of those sanity charts too, don't they... right next to the "Have You Had Your Emotional Breakdown Today?" motivational poster.
*snort* Oh, yeah, absolutely.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-12 09:17 pm (UTC)*splorfle* Oooh, yes. Well, see, then we get into the wonderful *rolls eyes* world of denial. Much like with Mr. Speedle on Miami. (And really, it's not that I can't understand "woe! he is *ded*!" it's just-- oh, *people* please, get *over* it, stop whining, and if you've got to deal with it, deal with it honestly in fic. Please.)
Okay, now that I'd like to see.
Or Det. Maka...
(honestly, you know, Aiden dying is prompting me to think about angsty Stellafic. Go figs, right?)
Man, would PARIAH Research ever love to get their hands on a guy that sees ghosts...
...that really doesn't seem to bode too well for Chris.
Ah, well, Jimmy'll toast 'em if they make a grab for him. Right?
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-12 09:28 pm (UTC)Exactly. At least we're not a fantasy or comic book fandom where the PTB can randomly bring people back from the dead, and do so. I mean...go out and deal with it. Seriously. AU it, or...well, I seem to be writing an AU season two, so we'll see where that goes, but...oh God, the fandom is going to be inundated by Mourning!Danny fic.
Shoot me now.
honestly, you know, Aiden dying is prompting me to think about angsty Stellafic. Go figs, right?
Mac is going to implode when this happens. He already has a guilt complex.
...that really doesn't seem to bode too well for Chris.
Ah, well, Jimmy'll toast 'em if they make a grab for him. Right?
Oh, but of course. Him and the rest of the lab. We all know how well most police departments get along with the feds, right?
...LA PARIAH actually gets along really well with LAPD SCU. The East Coast, though? Not so hot.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-12 09:37 pm (UTC)I really don't think it's appropriate for people to be in denial over a fictive entity after a full year (nearly) has gone by. And other people in the fandom encouraging it *pah*. As for your AU? Well, it's different when you started a fic before anyone knew "Oh, [main character]'s gonna get it".
oh God, the fandom is going to be inundated by Mourning!Danny fic.
Shoot me now.
You know how Danny and Flack are gonna mourn?
They're going to go out and beat the shit out of things. And there may or may not be alcohol involved.
Mac, on the other hand...
Mac is going to implode when this happens. He already has a guilt complex.
Exactly. Since we've seen that Mac's typical response to traumatic loss is to introvert and poke out his spikes... well, he probably could introvert himself out of existence if he tried hard enough. Poor fucker, he's making a concerted effort (via the disaster of Rose) to pull himself out of his grief over Rose, and what happens? Oh, hey, look, one of *your* people, one of your *kids* that you're *responsible* for, the least experienced member of your team, is *dead*. Bye.
Jesus god, he's lucky he's got a badge or he'd probably end up committed.
Oh, but of course. Him and the rest of the lab.
"...Jimmy."
"Yep."
"Did you booby-trap the lab entrance?"
"Not me personally."
...LA PARIAH actually gets along really well with LAPD SCU. The East Coast, though? Not so hot.
But the LAPD is just plain weird, even in our universe...(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-12 09:46 pm (UTC)*in disbelief* Are you serious? I mean, I don't read Miami fic because I don't know anyone who writes good stuff, but...wow. Insanity!
As for your AU? Well, it's different when you started a fic before anyone knew "Oh, [main character]'s gonna get it".
Also, I come from fandoms where people take one look at how a season ended/began/is going and go, "Okay, starting a really long WIP right now." They're frequently better than the canon, too. ...I have a very relative view of these things.
Since we've seen that Mac's typical response to traumatic loss is to introvert and poke out his spikes... well, he probably could introvert himself out of existence if he tried hard enough. Poor fucker, he's making a concerted effort (via the disaster of Rose) to pull himself out of his grief over Rose, and what happens? Oh, hey, look, one of *your* people, one of your *kids* that you're *responsible* for, the least experienced member of your team, is *dead*. Bye.
He's gonna have a friggin' breakdown, he is. Not talk to anyone, go crazy on suspects, lab techs, CSIs - I feel sorry for our Miss Lindsay Monroe (or whatever they're calling her), everyone gonna think she's a poor replacement for Aiden, even if she's coming in before Aiden dies.
"...Jimmy."
"Yep."
"Did you booby-trap the lab entrance?"
"Not me personally."
*snicker* This is, of course, if PARIAH's witness protection program isn't trying to drag Noah out through the windows.
...huh, this isn't going to end well at all.
But the LAPD is just plain weird, even in our universe...
But of course.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-12 10:15 pm (UTC)Heh. I *used* to write Miamific (there's some still up at my ff.net account), and in fact am the creator/moderator of the csimslash group on yahoo, but I pretty much just kind of ignore the fandom at this point. It's gone a little *too* batshit for my tastes.
He's gonna have a friggin' breakdown, he is. Not talk to anyone, go crazy on suspects, lab techs, CSIs -
You almost hope he *does* have Stella listed as having power of attorney, because she'd have the good sense and connections to save his ass if he did something *truly* monumentally
stupidunforgiveable in the eyes of IAB."Mac?"
"Yep."
"This isn't really good PR for the unit."
"Yep."
"Mac? Let Chad out of the trashcan."
"Nope."
I feel sorry for our Miss Lindsay Monroe (or whatever they're calling her), everyone gonna think she's a poor replacement for Aiden, even if she's coming in before Aiden dies.
Oh, dude. Yeah. Coming in before Aiden dies, everyone's going to look at her and think she's totally cursed. (amusing me in all this is that the actress's last name-- Belknap-- is the name of one of the wards at a nearby psychiatric hospital.)
This is, of course, if PARIAH's witness protection program isn't trying to drag Noah out through the windows.
"The windows, though, those *were* me."
"Yeah, I figured the gorilla glue and rusty nails were more your style."
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-12 10:22 pm (UTC)You should see the HP fandom, they've been batshit for years now. Especially a group of the Harry/Hermione shippers. (Not my ship, thanks, when I was still in the fandom I was Draco/Hermione all the way).
"Mac?"
"Yep."
"This isn't really good PR for the unit."
"Yep."
"Mac? Let Chad out of the trashcan."
"Nope."
Oh dear.
"The windows, though, those *were* me."
"Yeah, I figured the gorilla glue and rusty nails were more your style."
*snicker*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-12 10:28 pm (UTC)"Mac? Come on. I just want you to take a deep breath, calm down..."
"I am breathing. I am calm. I'm perfectly calm. What makes you think I'm not calm?"
"You're asphyxiating Danny."
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-15 12:47 am (UTC)"I am breathing. I am calm. I'm perfectly calm. What makes you think I'm not calm?"
"You're asphyxiating Danny."
*sporfle* Uh-oh. You know, people are going to stop coming to work if you keep doing things like that, Mac. And Miss Lindsay might just go right on home to Idaho.
not that we'd miss her(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-15 12:58 am (UTC)But...but...
But I wanted Flack to have stricken-drunk vengeful sex with her over Aiden being dead.
!_!
*halo*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-15 01:17 am (UTC)Oh, in that case we can keep her for a bit. Then send her home.
...I'm a little bitter about this, can anyone tell?
And that I want to see. Gonna hold you to that, y'know. *grin*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-15 01:34 am (UTC)After Flack, she'll want to. Desperately.And that I want to see. Gonna hold you to that, y'know. *grin*
... ...
Oh, well, at least I've got a good month or so of lead-in time, right?
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-15 01:57 am (UTC)*rubs hands together* Excellent.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-15 02:05 am (UTC)Well, you know Flack. Detective Tact-is-for-Pussies. It's just not been his year. His much-loved training officer gets forcibly resigned, his best pal Danny doesn't trust anyone on two legs, and now Aiden got toasted? Yeah. He's not happy. He's...
It's just-thisclose to noncon, I tell you.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-15 03:16 am (UTC)It hasn't been anybody's year. No matter what universe you're looking at. I reallyreallyreally want to see this. Like, really.
And Miss Lindsay better have a personality and not be a walking cliche, that's all I'm saying.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-15 03:29 am (UTC)Slash goggles or strictly canon, no, there's no way anyone's having a good year. (Oh, you know, it just occured to me: they'd probably go and make the entire lab go see the department shrink. Heh, wouldn't that be fun? Just an episode of *brief* bits of their mandated therapy interspersed with the case-as-back-ground-noise. Multiple cases, even. Broad scope.)
And Miss Lindsay better have a personality and not be a walking cliche, that's all I'm saying.
They don't tend to have much luck with the younger female characters, in terms of writing. *shrug* I don't know. I don't think they do, anyway.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-16 12:14 am (UTC)That's not humor, that's horror. *grin* Poor little NYPD shrink. This I wanna see. I mean, Mac alone would be bad enough, but all of them? *shiver* I mean, that's just scary. Because. Teh Krazee.
They don't tend to have much luck with the younger female characters, in terms of writing. *shrug* I don't know. I don't think they do, anyway.
*crosses fingers*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-12 10:41 pm (UTC)And, ah yes. Flack and his kink for cuffs. Something that always delights me. I also like Danny's joke about not having the key, and Flack's perfectly-Flack "not gonna play" reaction.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-15 12:56 am (UTC)Porn solves everythingI mean...Flack and his kink for cuffs. Something that always delights me. I also like Danny's joke about not having the key, and Flack's perfectly-Flack "not gonna play" reaction.
They're just great, aren't they? Friggin' insane, but...okay, just insane.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-20 07:46 am (UTC)*dies from the goodness*
Man, you just made my day. *g*
And Bottom!Flack stories are pretty rare, come to think of it.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-21 12:05 am (UTC)*resurrects you*
Man, you just made my day.
I do what I can. *grin*
And Bottom!Flack stories are pretty rare, come to think of it.
Are they? I don't hang out in the general CSI: NY fandom much, so I don't know...hmm, I just have trouble seeing Flack as a top.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-21 02:50 am (UTC)I just finished reading Snafu, New York Minute and the current parts of Omerta. All I have to say is ... they've got to be the best CSI: NY stories I've ever read yet. No, seriously! It's been a loooooong time since I was so hooked to a fanfic where all the main characters get equal 'spotlight' time, and where I love all the original characters as well.
And after I finished reading the stories, I just kept telling myself the CSI: NY writers should get a few tips from you because this is the kinda stuff that'll make the show go BOOM.
What with the intense Flack/Danny snogging and indecent exposures and smex.Loveitloveitloveit. I'm really looking forward to future parts of Omerta (or heck, anything you write, really). :) Keep up the great work!