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Shocking, I know. I wrote again. After quitting a long time ago. In a different fandom. And not with one of my absolute favorite characters. Blame it on stellaluna_ that I ended up with this image that would JUST NOT LEAVE ME for some reason. So, I finally caved and told her about it. Which then earned me a lot of poking to actually share it with the world, to which I eventually caved. Curious yet? ;-)
Title: A Not So Merry Morning
Author: gin200168
Fandom: CSI:NY
Rating: PG - a few swear words and some implied sex, but you kinda have to squint to see it.
Summary: A post-festivities awakening. If I said more, I’d spoil it. A post-ep, persay, for the great stellaluna_'s "Merry Gentlemen". If you haven't read it, then this more than likely will make absolutely no sense to you, so read it first, if you haven't already. Or revisit it because she's just that good. Not kidding.
Disclaimer: Not mine. If they were, Danny and Mac would be wearing a LOT less clothing at all times while on screen and spend a lot more time kissing. And they wouldn't be so broken like they are now either.
Notes: This definitely wouldn't be in existence if it wasn't for stellaluna_. This idea just wouldn't leave me after reading one of her as always, AWESOME fics. And it probably wouldn't have ever seen the light of day without her encouragement or her permission to borrow her idea either. *hugs*
Feedback: PLEASE. I would love it, good or bad. I'm not a consistent writer, but it might make me more interested in posting other things if they ever come to me.
A quiet rustle of movement in the bed next to him, a shift and a sigh, grating against the pounding in his head. The disturbance pokes at the edges of his consciousness, barely registering with him that there's something not quite right.
He fuzzily remembers Stella saying something about kisses and mistletoe, and of course, he just couldn't let that go-he *had* to inform her that he'd do much more than that for her. He remembers Hawkes tugging on them for some reason while Mac made some bullshit speech like bosses are supposed to, which Stella ended up being right about not being so bad, although he'd never admit it to her.
He remembers sitting down and Hawkes trying to be a boyscout and trying to get them to eat, while he and Stella kept talking for… well a while, he can't remember how long or what about exactly. Except for somewhere in there were the usual boisterous dares stemming from a conversation late that night where Stella was still complaining about nobody there giving her a *proper* kiss under the mistletoe….
Oh shit.
Suddenly, the sleep-muddled haze clears and his headache ramps up significantly. He forces his eyes open and slowly turns his head enough to look at who's sharing his bed when it suddenly dawns on him that this *isn't* his bed. Obviously it’s somewhere where he possesses sort of degree of comfort in being, or else he would have been much more on edge when first waking. Instinct should have told him he wasn’t in a normal place, since he is trained to be observant to his surroundings and any perceived dangers. Which means…
Oh SHIT.
A splash of curly hair falls into his line of sight, and he cringes. Stella.
He doesn't really regret it-he could have, and has, done much worse when it comes to waking up next to someone. She's gorgeous, smart, witty, sharp and no-nonsense, and he’s pretty sure the only one alive and still standing that has ever gone toe to toe with Mac Taylor and voluntarily (and happily, he’s pretty sure) goes back for more. Except maybe Danny, crazy as fuck as he is, but even then the clashes between him and Mac are rarely are as spectacular as with Stella because the dynamic is just not the same.
But who the fuck cares about Danny right now, he thinks. Because he is not the one who is quite possibly at risk of losing a few vital limbs when the aforementioned woman wakes up and he's still here. Although, if he ducks out now, it could go a couple ways-1.) he manages to keep all his parts, and they both ignore that it ever happened. Denial to the nth degree. Or 2.) he might quite possibly lose them in a worse way a few hours later after she tracks him down and gives him a piece of her mind. Frankly, he's not quite sure whether or not either will occur, because as much as he can understand her, he can't.
Regardless, the outlook isn't looking all that pleasant for him, between nursing a hangover and facing the consequences of a drunken night. Even sleep rumpled and despite the headache that's gonna drag him down most of the day, she still looks good enough to… No. You're already in deep enough, he thinks to himself. No need to make it any worse, even with the temptation laying right there in front of you. Besides, that’d probably be the quickest way to lose parts he'd rather keep, thank you very much.
Stella starts to stir again, not quite aware of the disturbance in her surroundings just yet. Flack holds his breath and swallows a bit nervously, instinctually curling inward to protect himself.
Time to face the music, Don, he thinks. You're fucked, and not in the good way.
Fin
12/05
Title: A Not So Merry Morning
Author: gin200168
Fandom: CSI:NY
Rating: PG - a few swear words and some implied sex, but you kinda have to squint to see it.
Summary: A post-festivities awakening. If I said more, I’d spoil it. A post-ep, persay, for the great stellaluna_'s "Merry Gentlemen". If you haven't read it, then this more than likely will make absolutely no sense to you, so read it first, if you haven't already. Or revisit it because she's just that good. Not kidding.
Disclaimer: Not mine. If they were, Danny and Mac would be wearing a LOT less clothing at all times while on screen and spend a lot more time kissing. And they wouldn't be so broken like they are now either.
Notes: This definitely wouldn't be in existence if it wasn't for stellaluna_. This idea just wouldn't leave me after reading one of her as always, AWESOME fics. And it probably wouldn't have ever seen the light of day without her encouragement or her permission to borrow her idea either. *hugs*
Feedback: PLEASE. I would love it, good or bad. I'm not a consistent writer, but it might make me more interested in posting other things if they ever come to me.
A quiet rustle of movement in the bed next to him, a shift and a sigh, grating against the pounding in his head. The disturbance pokes at the edges of his consciousness, barely registering with him that there's something not quite right.
He fuzzily remembers Stella saying something about kisses and mistletoe, and of course, he just couldn't let that go-he *had* to inform her that he'd do much more than that for her. He remembers Hawkes tugging on them for some reason while Mac made some bullshit speech like bosses are supposed to, which Stella ended up being right about not being so bad, although he'd never admit it to her.
He remembers sitting down and Hawkes trying to be a boyscout and trying to get them to eat, while he and Stella kept talking for… well a while, he can't remember how long or what about exactly. Except for somewhere in there were the usual boisterous dares stemming from a conversation late that night where Stella was still complaining about nobody there giving her a *proper* kiss under the mistletoe….
Oh shit.
Suddenly, the sleep-muddled haze clears and his headache ramps up significantly. He forces his eyes open and slowly turns his head enough to look at who's sharing his bed when it suddenly dawns on him that this *isn't* his bed. Obviously it’s somewhere where he possesses sort of degree of comfort in being, or else he would have been much more on edge when first waking. Instinct should have told him he wasn’t in a normal place, since he is trained to be observant to his surroundings and any perceived dangers. Which means…
Oh SHIT.
A splash of curly hair falls into his line of sight, and he cringes. Stella.
He doesn't really regret it-he could have, and has, done much worse when it comes to waking up next to someone. She's gorgeous, smart, witty, sharp and no-nonsense, and he’s pretty sure the only one alive and still standing that has ever gone toe to toe with Mac Taylor and voluntarily (and happily, he’s pretty sure) goes back for more. Except maybe Danny, crazy as fuck as he is, but even then the clashes between him and Mac are rarely are as spectacular as with Stella because the dynamic is just not the same.
But who the fuck cares about Danny right now, he thinks. Because he is not the one who is quite possibly at risk of losing a few vital limbs when the aforementioned woman wakes up and he's still here. Although, if he ducks out now, it could go a couple ways-1.) he manages to keep all his parts, and they both ignore that it ever happened. Denial to the nth degree. Or 2.) he might quite possibly lose them in a worse way a few hours later after she tracks him down and gives him a piece of her mind. Frankly, he's not quite sure whether or not either will occur, because as much as he can understand her, he can't.
Regardless, the outlook isn't looking all that pleasant for him, between nursing a hangover and facing the consequences of a drunken night. Even sleep rumpled and despite the headache that's gonna drag him down most of the day, she still looks good enough to… No. You're already in deep enough, he thinks to himself. No need to make it any worse, even with the temptation laying right there in front of you. Besides, that’d probably be the quickest way to lose parts he'd rather keep, thank you very much.
Stella starts to stir again, not quite aware of the disturbance in her surroundings just yet. Flack holds his breath and swallows a bit nervously, instinctually curling inward to protect himself.
Time to face the music, Don, he thinks. You're fucked, and not in the good way.
Fin
12/05