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Fic #10

Mon, 31 Mar 2008 01:04:05 GMT

The End by Harry Gregson-Williams

He had died a hero. That fact didn’t surprise her – she had always thought he was a hero. He would run into a burning building to save someone, even if he didn’t know them. He was always the first into a room, his gun drawn, ready and willing to take the bullet if that was what was needed.

But he had always come back to her. As Stella stood in the rain, listening as the priest said the final words over his body, she remembered the relief that always flooded through her when she saw his smiling face again. Hell, even a bomb hadn’t been able to take Don Flack down, and she had been sure that she was going to lose him that time. In time, though, he had healed, and he had come back to her.

The priest’s words faded into the background as Stella remembered. The way he had shyly asked her out on their first date, standing awkwardly in her office. Her first instinct had been to say no, because they worked together, because he was younger than her, for a thousand different reasons. But her mouth betrayed her and she had said yes before her mind had had a chance to step in.

And it had been the most fun she’d had in a long time. The conversation flowed between them easily as they talked about their lives, completely avoiding the topic of work. She remembered the way he had hesitantly taken her hand after dinner, as he walked her home. A slow blush ran up his neck, and Stella’s heart had been warmed by that.

When they finally got to her apartment, they stood there for a long time, neither knowing what to say. Eventually she announced that she should get to bed, and Flack had nodded, murmuring his agreement. And then he had leaned in, kissing her shyly. Stella felt it through her entire body, all the way to her toes, and she had responded immediately. It was slow, and sweet and deep, and she hadn’t wanted to let him go.

They dated for a year before he asked her to marry him. She had been cooking breakfast for them, and when she turned around with two plates of eggs in her hands, she had found him down on one knee, clad only in his boxers and a white t-shirt. The plates had clattered to the floor as he opened a little black velvet box, exposing a perfect diamond set into a white gold band. Tears had streamed down her face as she sank to her knees as well, and she had barely been able to whisper a heartfelt “Yes” before kissing him.

It had only been five months ago that she had revealed to him that she was pregnant with their first child. She remembered the joy on his face, the way his blue eyes had lit up as soon as the words were out of her mouth. He had held her and kissed her and cried happily as he realized that they were going to have a family of their own. He threw himself into getting ready for the baby, building a nursery and buying the baby assorted teddy bears and Yankees gear. Most days Stella found herself laughing at him, overjoyed at his joy.

And it had been only yesterday that she discovered she was having a boy. As the priest ended his prayer and the casket was lowered into the ground, she rested one hand on her swollen stomach and let the tears wash over her. He would have been thrilled to know that he was going to have a son.

Fic #9

Mon, 31 Mar 2008 01:03:23 GMT

I Have Nothing by Whitney Houston

Stella wasn’t used to feeling vulnerable. It was a feeling she tried to avoid at all costs. So when she first realized that she had feelings for Donald Flack Jr., she pushed them to the side, telling herself that she didn’t have any room in her life for that kind of thing.

But she just got tired of it all – going out on dates with men she couldn’t care less about, coming home to an empty apartment every night. She was sick of being haunted by mistakes like Frankie and Drew. And she was tired of feeling like every relationship she would ever have was doomed from the start.

After a week of sleepless nights, something inside of her finally snapped. Don was one of her best friends. Whenever he looked at her, she was sure that he saw straight through to her heart, knowing instinctively what was wrong with her. His embrace was the most comforting thing she had ever known, and she looked forward to seeing him everyday. Why should she fight it anymore?

And that was how she found herself standing by his desk, trying desperately not to fidget. When he glanced up from his paperwork, he gave her that smile – the one that she was starting to think he saved just for her.

“Hey, Stell,” he said warmly. “What can I do for you?”

A million things ran through her mind, and she almost walked away. But she couldn’t hide anymore.

“Have dinner with me,” she said softly.

And she knew from the look on his face that he knew this wasn’t just a friendly dinner, that there was something much deeper prompting her words. He reached over and brushed his hand against hers. “I’d love to.”

Fic #8

Mon, 31 Mar 2008 01:02:44 GMT

Wanna Be by Nine Days

The super had to finally let him into the apartment. She hadn’t answered her cell phone the entire day, and nobody had heard from her. Mac would have checked up on her himself, but another case had come in, demanding his attention. Don had offered immediately, his own worry gnawing at him to the point where he was afraid he was going to be sick.

The apartment was dark as he walked in, the shades open so that he could see the rain slashing against the windows. He closed the door behind him softly and then moved through the rooms, looking for her.

“Stell?” he called quietly.

That was when he heard it – a quiet sob from the back of the apartment. He moved toward the last door and found it ajar. Pushing it open, he stopped, his heart breaking. Stella was curled up in a ball on the floor, rocking back and forth as she cried desperately.

He moved towards her, suddenly needing to protect her, even if it was just from her own dark thoughts. She didn’t pull back as he reached down, pulling her into his arms and picking her up from the hardwood. Cradling her against his chest, he moved them to the bed, laying down and holding her tightly.

“Shhh, Stell. Baby, it’s okay.”

She shook her head almost violently. “It’s not okay. I hurt you.”

He closed his eyes, fighting back his own tears. “You can’t help how you feel, Stell –“

“No.” She pulled her head up so that her eyes met his. “You don’t get it, Donnie. I lied to you. I told you I didn’t feel anything, but I lied. I lied.”

He tried to remember to breathe. “Why?”

“You scare me,” she whispered. “But I’d rather be scared with you, Donnie, than deal with this hurt. I can’t breathe. I miss you so much.”

He gave her a smile then, brushing his lips against her forehead. “You have me, Stell. I’m not goin’ anywhere. I promise you that.”

Fic #7

Mon, 31 Mar 2008 01:01:45 GMT

Lifesize by A Fine Frenzy

Stella had never felt more alive, though she wouldn’t tell Flack that. She loved the walks they took through the park, his hand gripping hers, their shoulders brushing against each other. She loved their dinners at fancy restaurants, and she loved the dinners he made just for her even more.

She loved his eyes, especially when he smiled, and she found herself doing whatever she could to make that happen. And when he did, she found herself smiling as well, her cheeks almost hurting from how wide her grin was.

Sometimes she could swear that there was a sad look in his eyes. But whenever she asked him about it, it would disappear and he would say that everything was fine. She started to worry, wondering if maybe she was doing something that made him unhappy. Finally, she asked Danny about it. Messer shrugged.

“He’s worried that you’re eventually gonna leave him. He’s so happy with you, Stell. But he just can’t tell if you feel the same way about him.”

So the next time she saw him, she swallowed her fears. He made her the happiest she ever had been, and she owed it to him to tell him that. So that night, as they lay together in bed, she kissed him softly.

“I love you, Donnie.”

She had never seen his smile so bright.

Fic #6

Mon, 31 Mar 2008 01:00:50 GMT

Close Your Eyes by Christophe Beck (the Buffy/Angel love theme)

She couldn’t stop crying. She told herself that she needed to get it together, that when he woke up, the last thing he was going to want to see was her red and splotchy face as she cried over his bed. But she couldn’t help it.

The bullet had been meant for her. And yet, somehow, Don had showed up, throwing her to the side, covering her body with his. She had turned to thank him, to ask him what the hell he was doing there. But as her eyes met his, she realized that he was unconscious. And then she felt the blood, his blood, sliding out of him and all over her.

The sobs came again, and she couldn’t quiet them. But just as they began to wrack her body, something squeezed her fingers, and she looked up in surprise. Don’s bright blue eyes stared at her, a sad look on his face. He lifted his hand and brushed his fingers against her face.

“Don’t cry,” he whispered.

Fic #5

Mon, 31 Mar 2008 00:59:59 GMT

Who Am I To Say by Hope

He was her best friend, even though she didn’t want to admit it. Mac used to hold that place of honor, but lately, Don had inched by him. They talked about anything and everything. They saw movies when they had the same day off. They cooked for each other after a hard case. She fell asleep on his couch more than once or twice.

She told herself that that was why it was so hard to watch him flirt with Angell. A part of her mind had convinced her that he might actually feel the same way about her. She had actually started to think that she had a chance. But as she watched the two detectives laugh and joke, she suddenly felt bereft. It was almost as though a part of her had been ripped from her body.

Don noticed the change almost immediately. Stella started to pull away; movie nights were cancelled, and she no longer invited him over for dinner. Her manner with him had changed as well – she was distant, and her smile never quite met her eyes. He wondered if he had done something wrong, but nothing came to mind.

Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore. He showed up at her door unannounced, his clothes dripping from the rainstorm outside. He banged on her door until she opened up, anger and surprise warring on her face.

“I don’t wanna lose you, Stell.”

“Flack, what the hell are you –“

“Just give me a chance.”

“Don –“

He reached out and pulled her to him then, covering her mouth with his. And suddenly Stella knew that Angell had never been a threat.

Fic #4

Mon, 31 Mar 2008 00:58:59 GMT

Shelter by Sara McLachlin

Flack wasn’t a man who was used to showing his emotions. None of the women he was with had seen him open up. To them, he was always debonaire, always charming, always light-hearted. They never saw the job get to him, never saw him stumble, never saw him break.

But as he stood in front of Stella, his walls broke. She could see right through him; she knew that his heart was breaking, that he felt lost and alone. She had watched him carefully through the whole case, worrying about what a toll it was taking on him.

And suddenly Don realized that he was safe with her. For every horror he had seen, for every ounce of depravity, he knew that she had seen it too. He wasn’t alone – she felt the same things he felt.

And that was the comforting thought that enveloped him even as he fell into her embrace. Flack was fairly certain that the last woman he had cried in front of was his mother, but he no longer cared. Stella was the safest person in his life, and he was going to take every bit of comfort she was willing to give.

Fic #3

Mon, 31 Mar 2008 00:58:12 GMT

It’s Not Over by Daughtry

“It was nothing, Flack.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Stell. It was more than nothin’, and you know that.”

“You need to let this go.”

“So, what? You’re gonna tell me this was just a fuck between friends? That’s it?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

He almost turned and went for the door. But something stopped him. He wasn’t ready to let her go. He wasn’t ready to walk away from one of the things he wanted most in life. Striding over to her desk, he took her by the arm, turning her around.

“Tell me you don’t feel anything for me.” Her eyes drifted to her desk, and Don tilted her head back up so that her gaze was locked on his. “Look me in the eye and tell me that you really want me to walk out that door.”

She tried to say it – he could see that plain as day. But even as her mouth worked to get the words out, tears built in her eyes and her face began to crumble.

“Damn you, Don Flack,” she whispered.

Slowly, he leaned in and kissed her gently. Stella responded, knowing that it was a useless battle. She could try and close her heart off all she wanted, but it wouldn’t do any good. Flack was already inside – and if she was completely honest with herself, that was right where she wanted him.

Fic #2

Mon, 31 Mar 2008 00:57:02 GMT

Did You Ever Love Somebody by Jessica Simpson

Flack couldn’t admit that it was love – they were friends, nothing more. But deep down, he knew that that wasn’t true. Something had changed inside of him. He thought that maybe it had been during the ordeal with Frankie. Sitting by her side, helping through the trauma, she had burrowed her way into his heart, and for the life of him, he couldn’t get her out.

But he knew that it wasn’t the right time to admit his feelings – feelings that he himself was entirely sure of. So he just stood by her side, watching her as she slowly recovered.

By the time Drew came around, Flack knew for sure how he felt, and what he wanted. Now, though, he was afraid that someone had beat him to the punch. When they found out that Drew was only using Stella to get to Mac, Don cursed himself. Maybe if he had said something, made his move…but again, it wasn’t the time, and he consoled himself by being her friend.

Until this night, and this dance. As the song reached the bridge, he couldn’t help but bring her closer. Their eyes locked, and Flack knew that he was lost. He was completely exposed, and he knew that Stella could see everything that he had been feeling for the past two years. But instead of the sad rejection he expected, she smiled at him – a small shy smile he hadn’t ever seen before. And as the song came to a close, she reached up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his.

Fic for the Shuffle Challenge

Mon, 31 Mar 2008 00:56:02 GMT

Okay, so I took a challenge upon myself that turned out to be pretty fun. I put my iTunes on shuffle (okay, My Top Rated playlist, at least), and wrote a fic for the first ten songs that played (minus one, oops). I could only write for the duration of the song, so that was a little difficult. I'm going to post these in separate posts, because I don't have the energy to put in so many fake cuts in one post. I hope you enjoy them. Here's the first one.

ALL ARE FOR FLACK/STELLA, CSI: NY.

Not Ready To Make Nice by the Dixie Chicks

The one thing she had never admitted to anyone – not even to Mac – was how angry she was at being an orphan. No one knew, for instance, that her father had tried to get in touch with her two years ago. He had sent her a letter, explaining to her all the reasons he had for giving her up. There was a desperate tone to his words, and by the end of it, he was practically begging her to let him back into her life.

She never responded. She knew she should have. She knew that she should have at least sent him a letter back telling him that she wasn’t ready. But instead she just threw the letter in the back of a drawer and walked away from it. She never said a word about it.

Until the day she found out that he was dead. A tiny obituary in the middle of the paper, and her entire world crumbled. Flack saw her hands shake, the way her face turned ashen, and he was there in an instant. He didn’t need to know what had happened – he just knew that she needed someone to catch her.

And then she finally told him – how she had had the chance to make nice, but how she couldn’t bring herself to do it. In between sobs and desperate cries, the whole story came out. And Flack just held her, silently absolving her of all her guilt.

Don't ask and I won't tell

Sat, 29 Mar 2008 16:55:35 GMT

01. Themed Table	02. Themed Table	03. Un-Themed Table	04. Un-Themed Table
05. 'Inspired By' Table	06. 'Inspired By' Table	07. Genre Table	08. Genre Table
09. Pick Your Own Table	10. Pick Your Own Table	11. Pick Your Own Table	12. Pick Your Own Table
13. Pick Your Own Table	14. Pick Your Own Table	15. Pick Your Own Table	16. Pick Your Own Table
17. Pick Your Own Table	18. Pick Your Own Table	19. Pick Your Own Table	20. Pick Your Own Table

Forgiven (2/7)

Thu, 13 Mar 2008 21:30:20 GMT

Title: Forgiven (2/7)
Rating: FRT
Pairing: Mac Taylor/Michelle Desser (CSI NY/24 crossover).
Summary: This will be a story told in seven parts. The prompt for this part was "Eloquent." Prompts taken from

7_crossovers.
A/N: I don't own them.

"Hey."

Mac looked up to see Don standing in the doorway to his office.

"Flack," he greeted. "What can I do for you?"

"We're headin' out to get some food and a drink – celebrate gettin' that scumbag off the streets. You wanna come?"

Mac smiled. "You know what? I'd like that."

"Good. I’m gonna go invite Dessler, too. She really helped out on this one."

"I'll go get her," the older man offered. "I have some paperwork to give her anyway."

Flack shrugged. "Okay. Meet you outside in ten?"

"Yeah."

When Don left his office, Mac looked down at his desk. He didn't really have a file that he needed to take down to Michelle…but something about Flack asking her to go with them bothered him. He debated picking up a file anyway, to make it look like he had to go see her, but on further thought, he decided against it – she'd see through the ruse in a heartbeat, and Mac would just be left more embarrassed and nervous than he already was.

As he walked down to her desk, Mac wondered at that. He was definitely a little nervous about asking her to go to dinner with them, but he knew that he shouldn't be. She was just another member of the team, another friend.

She was putting on her coat when he reached her desk. One of her sleeves was almost inside out, and she was having trouble getting her arm in. Mac came up behind her quietly, taking the coat and guiding her arm in gently. Michelle turned in surprise at the contact, smiling when she saw who it was.

"Hey, Mac," she said warmly.

"Hi. Are you leaving?"

She nodded. "Finally. It's been a long day."

"A good one though."

Her smile broadened. "A very good one." She paused, waiting for him to speak. "Was there something you needed?"

His stomach tightened, and he stuck his hands in his pockets, trying to look nonchalant. "The others…we're all going out for some dinner…to celebrate closing the case. I thought maybe you'd like to come."

Michelle stopped, completely caught off-guard by the invitation. The others had been nothing but kind to her, but it was still a pleasant surprise to have them reach out to her.

"I don't want to intrude…"

"You're not," Mac interrupted. "The invitation came straight from them."

Her smile appeared again. "Then I would love to come."

Mac couldn't help but smile in return. "Great."

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The atmosphere at the table was light, as they sat around, joking and telling stories. Michelle couldn't remember the last time she had laughed so hard – or at all, really. But these people had accepted her quickly, and she was starting to feel…at home with them.

"The thief rappelled down the side of the building?" she asked, listening to Danny tell stories about old cases.

The C.S.I. nodded. "And the best part? Donnie was there. The thieves had managed to hit his girlfriend's apartment." He turned to his friend. "That was Devon, wasn't it?"

Flack rolled his eyes. "Yeah."

Michelle looked around. "Do we not like Devon?"

"That was when Don was…slumming it with the rich crowd," she laughed.

"Yeah, until she realized she could do a hell of a lot better than a cop," Danny added.

"Hey, hey, hey…" Don interrupted. "I'll have you know that I broke up with her, thank you very much."

"And why was that?" Lindsay asked.

He shrugged uncomfortably. "I realized how…vapid…she could be."

The table erupted into laughter, Michelle included. She watched as Stella laid a hand on Don's arm as she leaned into him, still laughing. Danny and Lindsay were sitting close as well, and their level of comfort with each other began to confirm some of the detective's suspicions.

"So Michelle…" Flack asked, interrupting her thoughts. "Let's talk about you."

She quickly swallowed the drink she had in her mouth. "Me?"

"Yeah, you. You've been here three months and I feel like we don't really know anything about you."

Lindsay chuckled. "Don't worry, they did this to me when I joined the team, too."

"As long as I'm not the only one." She looked around warily. "What do you want to know?"

Stella posed the first question. "Where are you from?"

"L.A. Born and raised."

"Do you miss the weather?"

Michelle shrugged. "Not really. I like that you guys have actual seasons."

"Were you a cop out there?" Flack asked.

"Not exactly."

He frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She glanced over at Mac. She could see the curiosity in his eyes, as he wondered how much she was going to share. Usually she sidestepped any of his questions when it came to her past in L.A.

"I was a federal agent," she finally answered. They opened their mouths to ask more questions, but she held up a hand, stalling them with a smile. "But that's all I can tell you. At least for now."

Danny grumbled – he had never expected the federal agent route. But with that door closed, he came up with another question.

"You married?"

Michelle could feel Mac tense beside her. He had studiously avoided the subject since the first case they worked together. He remembered the pain in her voice, and in her eyes; whatever had happened, it had obviously been hard, and he hadn't wanted to push her into telling him. But now the question was out there, and the table was waiting for an answer.

She gave them all a sad smile, her gaze dropping down to her nearly-finished plate. "I used to be."

"Divorced?" Danny asked, not catching her body language.

Michelle shook her head. "No. He died."

The table went silent. Danny closed his eyes, cursing his big mouth – if he had just paid attention, he would have been able to see that he was walking on dangerous ground. Swallowing hard, he opened his eyes again and looked right at Michelle.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean –"

She waved is apology off. "I know you didn't. It's okay, Danny. It would have come out eventually." She could feel Mac looking at her, but she couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes. "It's just still a sore subject."

The C.S.I. nodded, biting back any other questions that they had. The team sat without talking for a few minutes, the air tense.

"Well congratulations, Messer – you managed to officially kill dinner," Flack finally said.

That broke the tension, and they all chuckled.

"I think we were all done anyway," Stella pointed out.

"What about dessert?" Danny asked.

Lindsay shrugged. "There's an ice cream place a couple blocks over."

They all agreed, and stood up. Mac and Don took care of the bill before heading outside with the rest of them. Seeing Michelle hanging behind slightly, Mac joined her.

"Are you okay?"

She gave him a small smile. "I'm fine. Nothing a little ice cream won't fix."

He laughed at that, and without thinking about it, placed his hand on the small of her back as he led her out of the restaurant.

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Michelle quietly enjoyed her chocolate ice cream cone as the six of them wandered down the sidewalk. She and Mac had fallen to the back, while the others walked closely together, chatting and laughing.

"So…" she finally said, pointing forward with her ice cream cone, "tell me about Danny and Lindsay."

"What about them?" Mac asked, enjoying his own cone.

"They're together, aren't they?"

He nodded. "For almost a year now. They've had a few rough patches, but…I think they're good together."

"They seem happy." Mac heard the catch in her voice, but she was already moving on before he could ask. "What about Flack and Stella?"

He smiled at that. "That hasn't happened…yet."

"Yet?" she asked, looking at him with a sly smile.

"It's been building for a while now…I think they'll get together soon."

"And that doesn't bother you?" she asked. "That your team is pairing off?"

Mac shrugged. "I know it's against department rules, but…they're all really good at keeping it off the job. And who am I to deny anyone the little happiness they can find?"

She watched him for a minute, weighing her options. It seemed that Mac Taylor was just as protective about his past and feelings as she was, but she was dying to know more about him.

"What about you?" she finally asked. "Are you married?"

His eyes grew distant. "I was." Looking over at her, he answered her unspoken question. "She died."

Without thinking, Michelle reached out for his hand, squeezing it. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

Mac smiled at her sadly, surprised at how cold his hand felt when she let go again. "It's okay. It was a few years ago."

They walked in silence then, both wrapped in their own thoughts. Michelle now understood one of the reasons she felt so drawn to the man beside her – he shared her pain.

"What was her name?" she asked, needing to talk to push away her own dark thoughts.

Mac smiled as he pictured his wife. "Claire. She was…amazing. She put up with me like no one else could. She used to tease me...that as take-charge as I was in the military, and on the job…I was never good with making speeches; I was never eloquent. I even stumbled through my wedding vows."

"You still miss her."

Mac looked over at her again, feeling the unspoken question. The pain was in her eyes again, and he knew that she needed some kind of answer.

"I don't think that ever goes away," he said quietly. "But…you can miss someone and still live your life."

"Are you sure?" she asked, and she sounded so small right then that Mac had to fight off the temptation to embrace her. Instead, he walked just a little bit closer, letting his knuckles brush against hers.

"I'm sure," he whispered.