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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: 2005-08-15 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*