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bedlamsbardAnd now, back to your regularly scheduled plot.
Stella woke up with a raging headache and a hangover. Granted, the headache probably came from the hangover, so they were one and the same, but at this hour of the morning she didn’t want to have to make distinctions like that. The second thing she realized was that she wasn’t in her own bed, and the third was that she was still dressed, which seemed to bode well in the not-going-home-with-some-stranger department. The fourth was that she could hear someone outside the room, and the soft clatter of dishes in the kitchen.
Stella rolled over to glance at the clock, then realized it was on her other side. Seven in the morning – shit, she had to be at work at eight. She glanced around the room. Everything was in its place, and it very obviously had its place. There was something very familiar about it, even though she was pretty certain she’d never been here before. She sat up, rubbing at the back of her head, and spotted her jacket folded neatly beside her shoes at the foot of the bed. Where the hell was she?
Badge and gun on the night table beside her. Stella swung her legs out of bed and went to the door, wondering if she should take the gun just in case.
Mac turned around from the coffee maker as she wandered into the kitchen. “Good morning, Stella,” he said, looking indecently fresh. “How are you feeling?”
She squinted at him. “Did we have sex last night?”
Mac froze, his hands clenching and unclenching around the coffee mug he was holding. “…yeees…?” he offered tentatively after a moment, fidgeting like she’d never seen him do before.
Stella rubbed at the hickey on her neck, not awake enough to bother denying the first thing to come to mind. “Was it good?”
He stared at her for a long moment. “Would you like some coffee?” he said finally.
Stella stared back at him. “If you’re going to try denying this whole thing, I’d advise you to wear a shirt with a higher collar. That one shows off the hickey on your neck.”
Mac clapped his free hand to the side of his neck.
“No, the other side.”
“Stella…” he sighed, then shook his head. “There’s some Tylenol in the bathroom cabinet if you need some.”
Stella sniffed. “Tylenol.”
“Don’t you want anything? You had a lot to drink last night.”
“I just – never mind.” She worked a hand through her thick hair. “Tylenol’ll work, I guess.” She blinked at him. “So what exactly did we do last night?”
Mac offered her a mug of coffee, turning back to her with hands that were only shaking slightly. Stella took it gratefully, biting back a swear at the strength. She’d thought the stuff Mac made in the breakroom was strong, but it paled in comparison to this.
“Jeez, Mac, what did you put in this stuff, acid?”
He sniffed at his cup. “It’s not that bad.”
“That’s because you have a cast iron stomach.” Stella sipped again, steeling her features not to flinch. On impulse, she leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the mouth, lingering only a moment before pulling away.
Mac blinked at her, wide-eyed.
Stella smiled at him. “So,” she said, “you mentioned something about Tylenol?”
*
“I don’t friggin’ believe it!” Aiden was saying to Chad, who was holding a file folder and looking extremely forbearant. “Am I the only one in the Crime Scene Unit who didn’t get laid last night? I mean, even Ma-aahaaaa-ary – hi, Mac, how you doin’?”
Mac glowered at her while Stella hid a smile behind her hand. “I’m fine, thank you, Aiden. How’s your case going? We haven’t had much chance to touch base over the past few days.”
She snatched the folder from Chad’s hand. “It’s goin’,” she said. “Me and Danny went back to the Empire State Building last night, to check out our vic’s workplace – got ourselves a couple suspects and an interesting coincidence or two.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear your case is going well,” Mac said. “You know what they say – once is chance, twice is coincidence, but three times is conspiracy. Has it reached the conspiracy stage yet?”
“Not quite,” she scowled. “We still gotta talk to one’a her co-workers – she was secretary for a law firm, and one of the lawyers was in court when we went in yesterday. Turns out her vic was banging another lawyer, the fiancé of the one in court – that and Anna Dove – our vic – was trying to get pregnant. Plus, she got in a fight with the third lawyer the day she died – there’s three of ‘em.”
“Interesting,” Mac nodded. “Are Danny and Flack in yet?”
Aiden shook her head, black hair twirling in a swirl around her face. “Don’t think they’ll be in for a while. I’ll tell ‘em you came by though, huh?”
“You do that. Let Danny know I want to see him when he comes in, will you?””
“You got it.” She fidgeted for a moment, visibly waiting for them to leave. Chad glanced from Mac to Stella and back again.
“You know, Aiden,” Mac said, “gossip is the fruit of an idle mind.”
She went bright red.
*
“That was mean,” Stella said.
“What?”
“What you said to Aiden.”
Mac gave her an innocent look. “Was it?”
“It was and you know it. Knew it then, too.”
“I’ve never been a fan of gossip,” Mac said. “The stories that get spread, most of which are false –”
“And some of which are true.”
“But those tend to be the exception rather than the rule.” He leafed through a file folder, then handed it over to Stella. “Here. Tell me if this makes any sense to you.”
“What is it?”
“It’s the files the FBI’s Organized Crime Division sent over about the Five Families.”
Stella weighed it throughtfully. “I’ve seen smaller assault weapons,” she said. “Are the Feds stepping in on this?”
“I hope not,” Mac replied. “It’s just a murder case, but it does have to do with the upper echelon of the criminal underworld that does tend to be exclusively their territory – all I’m hoping is that they don’t try to block our investigation at all.”
“I’m surprised they haven’t come banging down the door,” Stella said. “You know how the Feds are – they hate sharing territory. Not even one poking around; that’s pretty impressive. You scare ‘em all off or something?”
“They sent those files over very reluctantly,” Mac said. “They’re the edited versions, and I had to pull strings to get them at all.”
Stella raised her eyebrows. “You have connections in the FBI?” Hurriedly, she added, “Not that I’m surprised or anything, I just thought –”
“A few of the men from my battalions have gone into the Bureau,” Mac said calmly, raising his eyebrows in return. “We still keep in touch, now and then, although it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other.”
“Well, you should get them together for a drink sometime,” Stella said, wondering a little at this. It wasn’t as though Mac didn’t have acquaintances in most branches of law enforcement – the military was a common enough recruiting ground – it was just that most of his acquaintances seemed to be hostile, or at least uninterested. Then again, he tended to go out of his way to deter her from asking questions about any part of his past, although he was freer about the Marine Corps than he was about Chicago. Of course, she’d seen why he’d left Chicago now, but that didn’t mean she pressed it whenever the subject came up. “Maybe the NYPD can buy the FBI a round.”
“Maybe,” Mac said, but he looked unconvinced.
“You know Aiden plays on the NYPD’s basketball team, don’t you?”
He blinked. “Does she?”
“Yep. Last year, they beat the FBI girls to go play against the sheriff’s department for the inter-agency championship. Come on, Mac, it was a big deal. You’re telling me you never even heard her mention this?”
“I must have missed it,” he said, looking faintly amused.
“That’s because you think a good way to get along with other divisions of the NYPD is to give them their results when they ask for them.”
“I hardly think most divisions of the NYPD have time for organized sports, not when we have –”
“I guess that’s why the Crime Lab’s barely been in the running for the past five years,” Stella grinned. “Of course, everybody loses when they go up against ESU, but that’s because they’re a bunch of SWAT jocks whose idea of a day off is to go beat up on each other instead of the perps. Narco, though, we were pretty good, we used to be able to give ESU a run for their money on good days –” She shook her head in memory. “Homicide, though, those guys were friggin’ lunatics, you’d want to stay away from them no matter what sport you were playing. They’d take you out as soon as look at you, and not think twice about it. Lunatics.”
“Does Flack play for them?” Mac asked after a moment.
“Flack always plays for the Crime Lab, don’t you know that?” she said. “Said something about a bunch of scientist nerds not knowing the difference between a blue line and a clothesline, and that we’d need all the help we could get. You really are behind on all this, aren’t you? He was going to play for the NYPD against the Secret Service, but he got a little hung up on that double homicide in Ozone Park the weekend of the championship game. He was really pissed. Don’t you remember that?”
“Vaguely,” Mac admitted. “But while we’re on the subject of homicides –”
“We’re not talking about homicides, we’re talking about inter-agency sports.”
“Well, then going back to our actual purpose of existence, we’ve been holding Joey Sforza for almost forty-eight hours.”
“Yes.”
“We haven’t charged him with anything yet, and now that the evidence has changed, we can’t actually charge him for the murder of someone who isn’t actually dead.”
“That we know of.”
“That we know of, yes. We can’t hold him for more than forty-eight hours, and it seems less likely now that he killed our John Doe, which gives a more than reasonable doubt, so –”
Stella sighed. “You want to let him go,” she said.
“We have to let him go; no DA’s going to indict with only twenty-three minutes to do so. We don’t even have time to get to the DA’s office.” He looked faintly dismayed about this fact; she remembered he hadn’t been in the best of moods when they’d arrested Joey Sforza either. Of course, neither had she; the Mafioso had been an annoying little bastard, snarky all through questioning and booking.
Stella sighed ago. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll go pry him out of one of the holding cells, see if he needs to make a phone call or just catch a cab or, I don’t know, go out and shoot someone else.” She brightened suddenly. “We get to keep his gun, right?”
“For further testing, yes,” Mac nodded. “I think I’d like to have a few more words with him, though.”
“Well, as long as they don’t give him a reason to sue us.”
*
“Hi,” Joey Sforza said, glancing up at Mac and Stella through bruised black eyes. “Come to take me down to the DA’s office?”
“I wish,” Stella snorted. She swung the door open. “Actually, we’re letting you go. But if you’d rather go to the DA’s –”
He hopped up gleefully. “No, I’m good. You’re just kicking me loose, then? Don’t want to hang around and see if you can come up with anything else to charge me with?”
“I’m sure we could come up with plenty to charge you with, Mr. Sforza,” Mac said. “As it is, though, some new evidence has come up in the Pagliuca case, leaving us with a reasonable doubt about your guilt.”
“Well, that’s sure good to hear, because I didn’t do it. Do I fucking look suicidal? Because that’s what it’d be to tangle with Pagliuca, so –”
“We can let you make a phone call if you’d like,” Mac continued. “Although, if you’ve got a minute, we would like to ask you a few more questions.”
“No.”
Stella crossed her arms. “Not about the case,” she said. “About the Patriso Family.”
Joey blinked a little at that. “They hate Constantine’s guts,” he said flatly. “All you need to know. They’re probably behind this whole mess, just trying to make Constantine look bad, so –”
“We’ve heard,” Stella interrupted. “I think the question of the moment is why?”
He considered this a moment. “Because Fat Freddy’s fucking insane, he is. Because he’s damn sure your Danny Messer’s behind the death of his grandson, and because he knows Danny was involved with the deaths of Curly Sassone and Johnnie Boy Petrucelli and the arrests of Sonny Sassone, Phil DiCarlo, and the Lark. The Lark and Johnnie Boy were actually mine and Carmine’s, but hell, we’re both Constantine boys, so it’s not like there’s any love lost there. Not to mention Patriso’s got an eternal hard on for Constantine. We don’t get on with any of the damn Families, but Patriso hates our guts, plain and simple, and they’d do anything to screw us and ours over. Danny’s Val’s, and that makes him Constantine, and he was this close to being Patriso because of Tanglewood, but he never got that far. And he’s yours,” he added, “which makes you part of Constantine, and that paints pretty little targets right on the backs of your pretty NYPD windbreakers. Now,” he winked, “you said something about a phone? I think I’ll call Carmine up, see if he can drag himself away from Val long enough to get up to Manhattan.”
Stella woke up with a raging headache and a hangover. Granted, the headache probably came from the hangover, so they were one and the same, but at this hour of the morning she didn’t want to have to make distinctions like that. The second thing she realized was that she wasn’t in her own bed, and the third was that she was still dressed, which seemed to bode well in the not-going-home-with-some-stranger department. The fourth was that she could hear someone outside the room, and the soft clatter of dishes in the kitchen.
Stella rolled over to glance at the clock, then realized it was on her other side. Seven in the morning – shit, she had to be at work at eight. She glanced around the room. Everything was in its place, and it very obviously had its place. There was something very familiar about it, even though she was pretty certain she’d never been here before. She sat up, rubbing at the back of her head, and spotted her jacket folded neatly beside her shoes at the foot of the bed. Where the hell was she?
Badge and gun on the night table beside her. Stella swung her legs out of bed and went to the door, wondering if she should take the gun just in case.
Mac turned around from the coffee maker as she wandered into the kitchen. “Good morning, Stella,” he said, looking indecently fresh. “How are you feeling?”
She squinted at him. “Did we have sex last night?”
Mac froze, his hands clenching and unclenching around the coffee mug he was holding. “…yeees…?” he offered tentatively after a moment, fidgeting like she’d never seen him do before.
Stella rubbed at the hickey on her neck, not awake enough to bother denying the first thing to come to mind. “Was it good?”
He stared at her for a long moment. “Would you like some coffee?” he said finally.
Stella stared back at him. “If you’re going to try denying this whole thing, I’d advise you to wear a shirt with a higher collar. That one shows off the hickey on your neck.”
Mac clapped his free hand to the side of his neck.
“No, the other side.”
“Stella…” he sighed, then shook his head. “There’s some Tylenol in the bathroom cabinet if you need some.”
Stella sniffed. “Tylenol.”
“Don’t you want anything? You had a lot to drink last night.”
“I just – never mind.” She worked a hand through her thick hair. “Tylenol’ll work, I guess.” She blinked at him. “So what exactly did we do last night?”
Mac offered her a mug of coffee, turning back to her with hands that were only shaking slightly. Stella took it gratefully, biting back a swear at the strength. She’d thought the stuff Mac made in the breakroom was strong, but it paled in comparison to this.
“Jeez, Mac, what did you put in this stuff, acid?”
He sniffed at his cup. “It’s not that bad.”
“That’s because you have a cast iron stomach.” Stella sipped again, steeling her features not to flinch. On impulse, she leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the mouth, lingering only a moment before pulling away.
Mac blinked at her, wide-eyed.
Stella smiled at him. “So,” she said, “you mentioned something about Tylenol?”
*
“I don’t friggin’ believe it!” Aiden was saying to Chad, who was holding a file folder and looking extremely forbearant. “Am I the only one in the Crime Scene Unit who didn’t get laid last night? I mean, even Ma-aahaaaa-ary – hi, Mac, how you doin’?”
Mac glowered at her while Stella hid a smile behind her hand. “I’m fine, thank you, Aiden. How’s your case going? We haven’t had much chance to touch base over the past few days.”
She snatched the folder from Chad’s hand. “It’s goin’,” she said. “Me and Danny went back to the Empire State Building last night, to check out our vic’s workplace – got ourselves a couple suspects and an interesting coincidence or two.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear your case is going well,” Mac said. “You know what they say – once is chance, twice is coincidence, but three times is conspiracy. Has it reached the conspiracy stage yet?”
“Not quite,” she scowled. “We still gotta talk to one’a her co-workers – she was secretary for a law firm, and one of the lawyers was in court when we went in yesterday. Turns out her vic was banging another lawyer, the fiancé of the one in court – that and Anna Dove – our vic – was trying to get pregnant. Plus, she got in a fight with the third lawyer the day she died – there’s three of ‘em.”
“Interesting,” Mac nodded. “Are Danny and Flack in yet?”
Aiden shook her head, black hair twirling in a swirl around her face. “Don’t think they’ll be in for a while. I’ll tell ‘em you came by though, huh?”
“You do that. Let Danny know I want to see him when he comes in, will you?””
“You got it.” She fidgeted for a moment, visibly waiting for them to leave. Chad glanced from Mac to Stella and back again.
“You know, Aiden,” Mac said, “gossip is the fruit of an idle mind.”
She went bright red.
*
“That was mean,” Stella said.
“What?”
“What you said to Aiden.”
Mac gave her an innocent look. “Was it?”
“It was and you know it. Knew it then, too.”
“I’ve never been a fan of gossip,” Mac said. “The stories that get spread, most of which are false –”
“And some of which are true.”
“But those tend to be the exception rather than the rule.” He leafed through a file folder, then handed it over to Stella. “Here. Tell me if this makes any sense to you.”
“What is it?”
“It’s the files the FBI’s Organized Crime Division sent over about the Five Families.”
Stella weighed it throughtfully. “I’ve seen smaller assault weapons,” she said. “Are the Feds stepping in on this?”
“I hope not,” Mac replied. “It’s just a murder case, but it does have to do with the upper echelon of the criminal underworld that does tend to be exclusively their territory – all I’m hoping is that they don’t try to block our investigation at all.”
“I’m surprised they haven’t come banging down the door,” Stella said. “You know how the Feds are – they hate sharing territory. Not even one poking around; that’s pretty impressive. You scare ‘em all off or something?”
“They sent those files over very reluctantly,” Mac said. “They’re the edited versions, and I had to pull strings to get them at all.”
Stella raised her eyebrows. “You have connections in the FBI?” Hurriedly, she added, “Not that I’m surprised or anything, I just thought –”
“A few of the men from my battalions have gone into the Bureau,” Mac said calmly, raising his eyebrows in return. “We still keep in touch, now and then, although it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other.”
“Well, you should get them together for a drink sometime,” Stella said, wondering a little at this. It wasn’t as though Mac didn’t have acquaintances in most branches of law enforcement – the military was a common enough recruiting ground – it was just that most of his acquaintances seemed to be hostile, or at least uninterested. Then again, he tended to go out of his way to deter her from asking questions about any part of his past, although he was freer about the Marine Corps than he was about Chicago. Of course, she’d seen why he’d left Chicago now, but that didn’t mean she pressed it whenever the subject came up. “Maybe the NYPD can buy the FBI a round.”
“Maybe,” Mac said, but he looked unconvinced.
“You know Aiden plays on the NYPD’s basketball team, don’t you?”
He blinked. “Does she?”
“Yep. Last year, they beat the FBI girls to go play against the sheriff’s department for the inter-agency championship. Come on, Mac, it was a big deal. You’re telling me you never even heard her mention this?”
“I must have missed it,” he said, looking faintly amused.
“That’s because you think a good way to get along with other divisions of the NYPD is to give them their results when they ask for them.”
“I hardly think most divisions of the NYPD have time for organized sports, not when we have –”
“I guess that’s why the Crime Lab’s barely been in the running for the past five years,” Stella grinned. “Of course, everybody loses when they go up against ESU, but that’s because they’re a bunch of SWAT jocks whose idea of a day off is to go beat up on each other instead of the perps. Narco, though, we were pretty good, we used to be able to give ESU a run for their money on good days –” She shook her head in memory. “Homicide, though, those guys were friggin’ lunatics, you’d want to stay away from them no matter what sport you were playing. They’d take you out as soon as look at you, and not think twice about it. Lunatics.”
“Does Flack play for them?” Mac asked after a moment.
“Flack always plays for the Crime Lab, don’t you know that?” she said. “Said something about a bunch of scientist nerds not knowing the difference between a blue line and a clothesline, and that we’d need all the help we could get. You really are behind on all this, aren’t you? He was going to play for the NYPD against the Secret Service, but he got a little hung up on that double homicide in Ozone Park the weekend of the championship game. He was really pissed. Don’t you remember that?”
“Vaguely,” Mac admitted. “But while we’re on the subject of homicides –”
“We’re not talking about homicides, we’re talking about inter-agency sports.”
“Well, then going back to our actual purpose of existence, we’ve been holding Joey Sforza for almost forty-eight hours.”
“Yes.”
“We haven’t charged him with anything yet, and now that the evidence has changed, we can’t actually charge him for the murder of someone who isn’t actually dead.”
“That we know of.”
“That we know of, yes. We can’t hold him for more than forty-eight hours, and it seems less likely now that he killed our John Doe, which gives a more than reasonable doubt, so –”
Stella sighed. “You want to let him go,” she said.
“We have to let him go; no DA’s going to indict with only twenty-three minutes to do so. We don’t even have time to get to the DA’s office.” He looked faintly dismayed about this fact; she remembered he hadn’t been in the best of moods when they’d arrested Joey Sforza either. Of course, neither had she; the Mafioso had been an annoying little bastard, snarky all through questioning and booking.
Stella sighed ago. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll go pry him out of one of the holding cells, see if he needs to make a phone call or just catch a cab or, I don’t know, go out and shoot someone else.” She brightened suddenly. “We get to keep his gun, right?”
“For further testing, yes,” Mac nodded. “I think I’d like to have a few more words with him, though.”
“Well, as long as they don’t give him a reason to sue us.”
*
“Hi,” Joey Sforza said, glancing up at Mac and Stella through bruised black eyes. “Come to take me down to the DA’s office?”
“I wish,” Stella snorted. She swung the door open. “Actually, we’re letting you go. But if you’d rather go to the DA’s –”
He hopped up gleefully. “No, I’m good. You’re just kicking me loose, then? Don’t want to hang around and see if you can come up with anything else to charge me with?”
“I’m sure we could come up with plenty to charge you with, Mr. Sforza,” Mac said. “As it is, though, some new evidence has come up in the Pagliuca case, leaving us with a reasonable doubt about your guilt.”
“Well, that’s sure good to hear, because I didn’t do it. Do I fucking look suicidal? Because that’s what it’d be to tangle with Pagliuca, so –”
“We can let you make a phone call if you’d like,” Mac continued. “Although, if you’ve got a minute, we would like to ask you a few more questions.”
“No.”
Stella crossed her arms. “Not about the case,” she said. “About the Patriso Family.”
Joey blinked a little at that. “They hate Constantine’s guts,” he said flatly. “All you need to know. They’re probably behind this whole mess, just trying to make Constantine look bad, so –”
“We’ve heard,” Stella interrupted. “I think the question of the moment is why?”
He considered this a moment. “Because Fat Freddy’s fucking insane, he is. Because he’s damn sure your Danny Messer’s behind the death of his grandson, and because he knows Danny was involved with the deaths of Curly Sassone and Johnnie Boy Petrucelli and the arrests of Sonny Sassone, Phil DiCarlo, and the Lark. The Lark and Johnnie Boy were actually mine and Carmine’s, but hell, we’re both Constantine boys, so it’s not like there’s any love lost there. Not to mention Patriso’s got an eternal hard on for Constantine. We don’t get on with any of the damn Families, but Patriso hates our guts, plain and simple, and they’d do anything to screw us and ours over. Danny’s Val’s, and that makes him Constantine, and he was this close to being Patriso because of Tanglewood, but he never got that far. And he’s yours,” he added, “which makes you part of Constantine, and that paints pretty little targets right on the backs of your pretty NYPD windbreakers. Now,” he winked, “you said something about a phone? I think I’ll call Carmine up, see if he can drag himself away from Val long enough to get up to Manhattan.”
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(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-16 12:52 am (UTC)I mean, even Ma-aahaaaa-ary – hi, Mac, how you doin’?
Ow. I think I just pulled something.
The entire opening scene with Mac and Stella, actually, is really funny (and in-character funny, at that, not that I'm surprised), as is Mac's reaction to Aiden's little foot-in-mouth moment. And Stella is just so...Stella, with the bluntness and getting right to the point. Of course, she asks the important question, and of course, Mac evades.
I also *really* liked the conversation about Mac's various connections and the basketball team. I now desperately want to see a fic, or at least a scene, set during one of these basketball games.
And...yay! Great chapter all around.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-16 01:25 am (UTC)Well, of course Mac evades. He's not going to lie, but he has no idea how to answer, either. Stella just wants to make things clear.
And just imagine how Aiden feels, knowing Danny went home to Flack and seeing Mac and Stella leave together. She goes home to get some sleep, because, hey, they're in the middle of a case, but everyone else? Nooooo, they have to go get some, even Mac, who she should have been able to count on to join her in the yaysleep! sweepstakes. But noooo, he has to leave with Stella, and they probably aren't going to go talk DNA results (except they actually were, sort of, so.). Then she gets in to work, and surprise, Mac isn't there, neither's Stella or Flack and Danny, and the first person she sees is Chad...
I also *really* liked the conversation about Mac's various connections and the basketball team. I now desperately want to see a fic, or at least a scene, set during one of these basketball games.
Heh. That sprang out of a memory of a Numb3rs ep - I don't know which one - where Don and some other agents were talking about the FBI's baseball team, and the inter-agency competition, as well as a scene in Dennis Lehane's Gone, Baby, Gone where Patrick plays in an BPD football game. I don't know if the NYPD does the same thing, but it was a weird little idea that worked itself in.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-16 05:02 pm (UTC)Hee. Of course she does. I could just see the look on both of their faces so clearly during this whole scene. And there is no way on god's green earth that Mac could bring himself to say, "Yes, it was good." Even
especiallyif it's true.And...poor Aiden. Everybody is having fun but her, and she went home to sleep like a good girl, and now it's like *Mac* had sex? And she didn't? Wait wait wait, hold the phone. That ain't right. Something's wrong with the universe. Plus, in general, it just really sucks to go home and *know* that everyone but you is out having a good time.
I don't know if the NYPD does the same thing, but it was a weird little idea that worked itself in.
I would kinda think they do. Or, at the very least, it's believable to me that they *would*. And it just fits really nicely here.
I also need to read more Lehane. So far I've only read Mystic River and the "what are you *smoking*?" crackdance of Shutter Island.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-17 12:36 am (UTC)You know, I feel bad for Aiden, because everybody else - the major canon characters - are getting into relationships, only I don't know what to do with her. I mean - I don't want to do the whole "everyone has to be paired off" thing, because that has always annoyed me. I just don't want her to be...left out, I guess, anymore than she already is. And I'm nervous about putting her with an OC (Zeke the paramedic, for example), because that pretty much goes against the grain of "What To Do In Fanfic." I just...*twitches* I'd like to write her with Chad, I think, but again, the everyone has to be paired off thing.
I also need to read more Lehane. So far I've only read Mystic River and the "what are you *smoking*?" crackdance of Shutter Island.
Lehane is the best writer ever, and the Kenzie-Gennaro series - his other stuff - is great. It's funny, and it's serious, and it's dark, and it's light, and it's - it, more than anything else, is what I base my characters and my situations off of. Some of the dialogue has been borrowed from his books, because it's just that great. *is rereading Gone, Baby, Gone for about the fiftieth time*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-16 09:17 am (UTC)Loved this chapter. You can just see Mac thinking of all the things he could say to Stella when the asks him if they had sex and was it good. And the whole scene with Aiden is just priceless. Mac can be evil when he wants to.
This whole chapter made me laugh and considering I spent the whole weekend in and out of hospital with a scallded leg I needed a smile.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-16 11:53 pm (UTC)Oh, absolutely. And he very seldom does so, but when he does... *grin*
This whole chapter made me laugh and considering I spent the whole weekend in and out of hospital with a scallded leg I needed a smile.
Oh, ow. *winces* My extreme, extreme sympathies. I hope you feel better soon!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-08-17 12:04 am (UTC)Yep it hurts like a son of a b**ch trust me! And it was my first Saturday off in weeks. I had no big plans but thats not the point!
Going to read Omerta 22 now.