CSI:NY fic: "Mercury in Ascendant", PG
May. 20th, 2006 05:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bedlamsbardTitle: Mercury in Ascendant
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bedlamsbard
Fandom: CSI:NY
Characters: Danny Messer, Lindsay Monroe
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 1154
Summary: Ever since she’d met him Danny had been mercurial, but not like this, not so quickly.
Warnings: Spoilers for "Charge of this Post"
Disclaimer: None of these are mine. Characters are the property of Anthony Zuiker, Jerry Bruckheimer Television, CBS, and Alliance Atlantis.
Danny drove with the kind of single-minded intensity that left Lindsay wondering if it wouldn’t be better for both of them and the city of New York as a whole if she kicked him out and took his place. When he finally pulled up in front of her apartment complex, Lindsay was certain she’d lost twenty years off her life. Danny was staring at the steering wheel as if he’d never seen one before.
Lindsay leaned over towards him. “Hey, Danny,” she said, before her mind caught up with her mouth and dragged it away screaming, no no no he’s a fucking mental case, Monroe! “You wanna come up with me? I can make some coffee.”
Danny gave her a look of startled astonishment, but unbuckled his seatbelt and pushed open his door anyway. “Sure,” he said. “Coffee’d be nice.”
Lindsay was acutely and uncomfortably aware of his eyes on the back of her head as they climbed the stairs to her second-floor corner apartment. “It’s not much,” she said over her shoulder as she unlocked the door, “but it’s mine and it’s in Manhattan and that’s what matters.”
“You know, Manhattan’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” Danny said, prowling around like he was looking for evidence or something while Lindsay draped her jacket over the back of a second- or third-hand chair and bustled around the tiny kitchen.
“Maybe not, but it’s Manhattan,” Lindsay said, carrying the coffeepot over to the sink to rinse it out. Struck by sudden curiosity, she asked, “Where did you grow up?”
“Born and raised in the Bronx,” Danny said absently. He picked up a framed picture that sat on the fold-up table currently serving as Lindsay’s nightstand and frowned at it. “What’s this?”
Lindsay stepped over to glance around his arm. “That’s from my senior year of high school,” she said. “I was a rodeo princess.”
“Nice.” He didn’t put the picture down, though, just kept staring at 17-year-old Lindsay in her cowboy hat and fancy green and white Western shirt, worn chaps and Princess Lindsay ribbon. “Nice horse,” he added.
Lindsay smiled. “That’s Manny. It was short for –”
“Manhattan?” Danny finished, picture still nestled in his palms.
“How did you know?”
“Lucky guess,” he said, and offered her a faint, distracted smile.
Lindsay smiled back and returned to the kitchen to slide the coffee pot into the machine and look for filters. “So, do you have any siblings?” she asked, opening and shutting drawers. “I mean, besides your brother.”
Danny’s hands slipped on the frame, but he caught it just in time and set it down carefully. “Just Louie,” he said. “I fucked my mom up bad when I was born; she had to go and get her tubes tied after. How ‘bout you?”
“I’ve got four older brothers,” Lindsay said, finally, finally, finding the coffee filters next to the refrigerator. She began to unpeel them from each other, frowning at her fingers.
“So you were the baby of the family.” Danny’s voice was odd. Lindsay kept frowning as she went for the coffee beans she’d ground up last week.
“Spoiled rotten, that was me,” she told the coffee maker. When she looked up again, Danny had locked his fingers behind his back, which was very Mac-like pose, and was shifting absently from foot to foot, which wasn’t.
“Are you all right?” Lindsay asked, coming up beside him.
He didn’t answer. “You know Mac’s gonna have to call all the families of those folks that got killed or hurt in Lessing’s sick game?” he said. “DHS already did it, but Mac’ll call again and tell them how sorry he is and how they caught the guy that planted that C-4.”
“That’s very responsible of him,” Lindsay said, since Danny was looking at her like he expected a reply.
Danny snorted. “Responsible,” he said. “Shit. Sure, he thinks he’s responsible. So fucking responsible he – fuck. Fuck.” He stepped away toward the window. It had started raining; drops rat-tatted against the window like bullets. Lindsay shuddered.
“Danny, are you all right?” she asked again, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jeans.
He raised his head to look at her. “Me, Montana? I’m aces.”
“You seem a little…preoccupied.”
“Me? Preoccupied? Gee, I wonder why.”
Lindsay looked up at him. “But Mac got the perp,” she said, confused at his sudden change in mood. Ever since she’d met him Danny had been mercurial, but not like this, not so quickly.
Danny turned on her so quickly she swore she heard his neck crack. “My partner’s in the fucking hospital,” he snapped. “Tell me why I might be a little…how did you put it? Preoccupied.”
“I thought Stella was your partner,” Lindsay said, for lack of anything else to say.
He gave her a look like she was crazy. “Stella’s Mac’s partner,” he said. “Has been for the better part of a decade at least.”
“Oh,” Lindsay said. She reached over to put her fingers on Danny’s sleeve; he looked at it the same way he’d looked at Flack’s blood all over his hands after he’d come out with the rescue crew. “Maybe you should sit down,” she added. “I’ll get you that coffee.”
Danny blinked at her from behind the lenses of his glasses, realization dawning over his face like he’d just woken up. “What’m I doin’ here?” he said, turning slowly around.
Lindsay stared at him. “Danny?” she said.
He shook his head at her. “I need to get back to the hospital, talk to Flack,” he said. “Thanks for the coffee.” He leaned in to kiss her lightly on the cheek, just a faint butterfly flutter of his lips, and then turned for the door.
“But you didn’t…” Lindsay began.
Danny raised a hand over his shoulder. “See you on shift tomorrow,” he said, and left, door banging shut behind him.
Lindsay listened to his footsteps retreat, staring at the door, still feeling the spot where he’d kissed her. “Danny?” she whispered, hopelessly confused. He’d been weird all evening – but this? It was like he’d woken up from a trance or something.
Slowly, dreamlike, Lindsay changed into MSU sweats and an overlarge I ♥ NY t-shirt she’d picked up for five bucks in Little Italy her first week in the city. She picked through the unpacked boxes still in her closet until she found a book she’d started reading in college and never quite finished in the mess between Katie’s murder and changing majors, but had liked the language enough to keep. It had found its way into her packing; she suspected her brother Luke had snuck it in there. He’d always liked the book.
Lindsay lay back on her bed and flipped pages slowly, reading passages picked out at random. She kept one eye on her cell phone, half-hoping for another case, half-hoping for Danny to call and apologize.
Neither one happened.
Author:
bedlamsbardFandom: CSI:NY
Characters: Danny Messer, Lindsay Monroe
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 1154
Summary: Ever since she’d met him Danny had been mercurial, but not like this, not so quickly.
Warnings: Spoilers for "Charge of this Post"
Disclaimer: None of these are mine. Characters are the property of Anthony Zuiker, Jerry Bruckheimer Television, CBS, and Alliance Atlantis.
Danny drove with the kind of single-minded intensity that left Lindsay wondering if it wouldn’t be better for both of them and the city of New York as a whole if she kicked him out and took his place. When he finally pulled up in front of her apartment complex, Lindsay was certain she’d lost twenty years off her life. Danny was staring at the steering wheel as if he’d never seen one before.
Lindsay leaned over towards him. “Hey, Danny,” she said, before her mind caught up with her mouth and dragged it away screaming, no no no he’s a fucking mental case, Monroe! “You wanna come up with me? I can make some coffee.”
Danny gave her a look of startled astonishment, but unbuckled his seatbelt and pushed open his door anyway. “Sure,” he said. “Coffee’d be nice.”
Lindsay was acutely and uncomfortably aware of his eyes on the back of her head as they climbed the stairs to her second-floor corner apartment. “It’s not much,” she said over her shoulder as she unlocked the door, “but it’s mine and it’s in Manhattan and that’s what matters.”
“You know, Manhattan’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” Danny said, prowling around like he was looking for evidence or something while Lindsay draped her jacket over the back of a second- or third-hand chair and bustled around the tiny kitchen.
“Maybe not, but it’s Manhattan,” Lindsay said, carrying the coffeepot over to the sink to rinse it out. Struck by sudden curiosity, she asked, “Where did you grow up?”
“Born and raised in the Bronx,” Danny said absently. He picked up a framed picture that sat on the fold-up table currently serving as Lindsay’s nightstand and frowned at it. “What’s this?”
Lindsay stepped over to glance around his arm. “That’s from my senior year of high school,” she said. “I was a rodeo princess.”
“Nice.” He didn’t put the picture down, though, just kept staring at 17-year-old Lindsay in her cowboy hat and fancy green and white Western shirt, worn chaps and Princess Lindsay ribbon. “Nice horse,” he added.
Lindsay smiled. “That’s Manny. It was short for –”
“Manhattan?” Danny finished, picture still nestled in his palms.
“How did you know?”
“Lucky guess,” he said, and offered her a faint, distracted smile.
Lindsay smiled back and returned to the kitchen to slide the coffee pot into the machine and look for filters. “So, do you have any siblings?” she asked, opening and shutting drawers. “I mean, besides your brother.”
Danny’s hands slipped on the frame, but he caught it just in time and set it down carefully. “Just Louie,” he said. “I fucked my mom up bad when I was born; she had to go and get her tubes tied after. How ‘bout you?”
“I’ve got four older brothers,” Lindsay said, finally, finally, finding the coffee filters next to the refrigerator. She began to unpeel them from each other, frowning at her fingers.
“So you were the baby of the family.” Danny’s voice was odd. Lindsay kept frowning as she went for the coffee beans she’d ground up last week.
“Spoiled rotten, that was me,” she told the coffee maker. When she looked up again, Danny had locked his fingers behind his back, which was very Mac-like pose, and was shifting absently from foot to foot, which wasn’t.
“Are you all right?” Lindsay asked, coming up beside him.
He didn’t answer. “You know Mac’s gonna have to call all the families of those folks that got killed or hurt in Lessing’s sick game?” he said. “DHS already did it, but Mac’ll call again and tell them how sorry he is and how they caught the guy that planted that C-4.”
“That’s very responsible of him,” Lindsay said, since Danny was looking at her like he expected a reply.
Danny snorted. “Responsible,” he said. “Shit. Sure, he thinks he’s responsible. So fucking responsible he – fuck. Fuck.” He stepped away toward the window. It had started raining; drops rat-tatted against the window like bullets. Lindsay shuddered.
“Danny, are you all right?” she asked again, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jeans.
He raised his head to look at her. “Me, Montana? I’m aces.”
“You seem a little…preoccupied.”
“Me? Preoccupied? Gee, I wonder why.”
Lindsay looked up at him. “But Mac got the perp,” she said, confused at his sudden change in mood. Ever since she’d met him Danny had been mercurial, but not like this, not so quickly.
Danny turned on her so quickly she swore she heard his neck crack. “My partner’s in the fucking hospital,” he snapped. “Tell me why I might be a little…how did you put it? Preoccupied.”
“I thought Stella was your partner,” Lindsay said, for lack of anything else to say.
He gave her a look like she was crazy. “Stella’s Mac’s partner,” he said. “Has been for the better part of a decade at least.”
“Oh,” Lindsay said. She reached over to put her fingers on Danny’s sleeve; he looked at it the same way he’d looked at Flack’s blood all over his hands after he’d come out with the rescue crew. “Maybe you should sit down,” she added. “I’ll get you that coffee.”
Danny blinked at her from behind the lenses of his glasses, realization dawning over his face like he’d just woken up. “What’m I doin’ here?” he said, turning slowly around.
Lindsay stared at him. “Danny?” she said.
He shook his head at her. “I need to get back to the hospital, talk to Flack,” he said. “Thanks for the coffee.” He leaned in to kiss her lightly on the cheek, just a faint butterfly flutter of his lips, and then turned for the door.
“But you didn’t…” Lindsay began.
Danny raised a hand over his shoulder. “See you on shift tomorrow,” he said, and left, door banging shut behind him.
Lindsay listened to his footsteps retreat, staring at the door, still feeling the spot where he’d kissed her. “Danny?” she whispered, hopelessly confused. He’d been weird all evening – but this? It was like he’d woken up from a trance or something.
Slowly, dreamlike, Lindsay changed into MSU sweats and an overlarge I ♥ NY t-shirt she’d picked up for five bucks in Little Italy her first week in the city. She picked through the unpacked boxes still in her closet until she found a book she’d started reading in college and never quite finished in the mess between Katie’s murder and changing majors, but had liked the language enough to keep. It had found its way into her packing; she suspected her brother Luke had snuck it in there. He’d always liked the book.
Lindsay lay back on her bed and flipped pages slowly, reading passages picked out at random. She kept one eye on her cell phone, half-hoping for another case, half-hoping for Danny to call and apologize.
Neither one happened.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-21 02:12 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-21 03:56 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-21 08:23 am (UTC)I like Danny's reaction when Lindsay asks him if he has any siblings other than Louie.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-21 11:15 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-22 03:36 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-23 12:34 am (UTC)compared to most of my complicated backstories. And come on, she so totally did rodeo. She reminds me a bit of some of the 4-H/FFA/rodeo girls I know at school. And it works for her character, too!