Yeah, I know, I should be working on my other fics, but Penni nudged my NY muse back to life and it won't go away.
I own nothing but Taylor. Everyone else belongs to CBS.
Just in case people don't read Taylor Made For Miami, this is an alternate use of the OC I created on there. This takes place about four years before the start of TMFM.
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Well I met this girl, just the other day
I hope I don't regret, the things that I said
And when we're laughing and joking with each other now
I'm glad I met this girl
She didn't walk away
Met This Girl, Mcfly
The sun blazed down upon New York City in the summer. Trees bloomed and the streets were full of children playing lazily in the heat. Times Square was full of tourists, taking photos and consulting maps, adjusting their ball caps. An open topped tour bus was making its way slowly around the city, showing off the sights and sounds of the City That Never Sleeps.
Detective Don Flack shouldered the door to the NYPD Homicide Precinct open, hauling a handcuffed youth in, gripping his firmly by the scruff of his neck. He wasn't impressed in having to bring him in on a supposed day off, but if the kid had set off one more fire hydrant while he was trying to sleep, he would have throttled the kid with his bare hands. As it was, he would have to content himself with throwing the kid in the un-air-conditioned cell for a couple hours. He was on his way out of the door when he passed someone he knew all too well.
She walked past him, engrossed in her iPod, but he reached a hand out, touching her shoulder. She flinched away from him, whirling round to face him, her hands going up in a defensive position. Her green eyes blinked at him in recognition, before she wrapped him in a hug, squeezing his torso tightly. 'Don! It's so good to see you!' She realised him and stood back, pushing her coppery hair out of her face. 'I didn't realise you worked here, I thought you would have gone into Homicide?'
He laughed. 'I did. Just dropping off a troublemaker, then I'm going back to bed. It's my 'day off',' he said, with air quotations.
'I'm surprised something managed to wake you up, quite frankly,' she teased. 'I swear, when we were younger me and Derek did everything short of dropping a bomb to wake you up, and still you snored on.'
He chuckled, clapping a hand on her shoulder. 'What brings you here then?'
'Meeting with the Crime Lab boss,' she said, twirling to show off her conservative outfit. She'd replaced her usual jeans and shirt for dress trousers and a blouse, but kept her boots, just polishing them until they shone. 'What do ya think? Smart enough?'
'Wait, you're asking my opinion? I was under the impression nothing I said mattered?' he asked, faking shock.
She pushed him gently, although his huge frame meant he outweighed her by at least eighty pounds and over six inches. She frowned at him, taking a step back. 'Damn, Don. What the hell have you been eating? You were a skinny kid before you went into the academy. How'd you go from beanpole to brick shit house?'
'Eatin' way too much,' said a heavily accented voice behind her. She looked behind her and saw another cop, much smaller than Don, with sandy hair, frosted blonde at the tips and bright blue eyes framed by rectangular glasses. He was wearing a white dress shirt with the top button undone and dark dress pants. Apparently he had forgone a jacket because of the heat. 'Hey, red?'
Taylor raised her eyebrow to Don. 'That would be you,' he explained guiltily. She turned properly to face him, arching one eyebrow cooly.
'Why you wasting your time with that schmuck? You're pretty, but no offence, you're not his type.'
'His type?' she asked, the tone of her voice dangerous. Flack knew from experience that when the quieter she got, the further away people should get.
'Yeah, you know, you being classy and all?' he said, grinning, clearly thinking this was a joke.
'Classy?' she asked. She could feel Don getting angry behind her.
'Yeah, most of the girls he dates, well, they don't dress like you, to put it lightly.'
Taylor paused, before replying. 'Well, it's a good thing I'm not his date, isn't it?'
Danny faltered a bit, his smile falling. 'Then you are…?'
'Your new boss,' she said without thinking, throwing it out there.
He blanched, the obnoxious smile sliding from his face. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Don's booming laugh came from behind her, and Danny glanced up sharply. 'She got you good Messer,' he chuckled, and Taylor grinned as well, sticking her hand out for him to shake.
'Taylor Mason, new CSI. Does Messer have a first name?'
Danny looked insulted, his brow wrinkled, before it smoothed out and he laughed as well. 'Danny. Danny Messer,' he told her, shaking her hand.
'Nice to meet you Danny, Danny Messer,' she said, before turning to Flack.
'I'll see you later?' she asked.
'Sure. Here's my card,' he smiled, handing her a small white cardboard rectangle. She took it and stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.
'It's good to see you again Don,' she said simply, heading over to the elevator, Danny following her.
'You too,' he said softly, escaping out of the door before he was tempted to his desk, overflowing with case files. This was his first proper day off in almost five weeks, and he was damned if paperwork was gonna stop him enjoying it.
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Taylor wasn't surprised when Danny waited for the elevator with her, but she was surprised when he hit the thirty fifth floor button before she could.
'You're a CSI?' she asked, trying and failing to keep the surprise out of her voice.
'You're very sarcastic for someone so young,' he commented.
'Excuse me?' She folded her arms, looking up at him.
'You can't be more than what, twenty two, twenty three?' He looked her up and down, appraising her. It made her feel like she was a side of beef waiting to be purchased.
'Twenty four,' she retorted through clenched teeth.
'Exactly, you're practically jailbait,' he teased, his mood very different from before. His remarks seemed much lighter now, less barbed than before. Taylor got the sense he had been showboating, deliberately pushing Flack's buttons, not taking her into consideration. A mistake he had paid for, she thought wryly, flinching as her phone buzzed. She pulled it out of her bag, checking the call ID before dropping it in again, sighing in exasperation.
'You having jock trouble there, Red?' Danny questioned, glancing over.
She glared at him.
'Cheerleader? Cos you know, I'm alright with that,' he leered.
She rolled her eyes, choosing to ignore him. The phone buzzed again, interrupting the silence. The screen read DEAN again, and she turned off the ringer, shoving it down to the bottom of her bag. She couldn't deal with him, not today.
--
Danny jogged along the sidewalk, already later than he should be. Mac was going to have his ass if he didn't get there in record time.
He turned the corner, heading into the building, spotting Flack talking to some girl. She wasn't his usual pick-up, she had brilliant auburn hair cascading down her back in waves, and she was wearing conventional clothes, smart black pants and a wine red blouse, fitted tightly. Flack was focused completely on her, only watching her, not what was going on around him. Danny grinned, sensing a chance to have a little fun. He approached her, listening to the conversation. '…you go from beanpole to brick shit house?'
'Eatin' way too much,' Danny cut in, watching Flack's eyes dart up to meet his. He ignored the warning in them. 'Hey, red?' he said, and she turned, showing Danny sparkling emerald eyes, her glare boring into him. 'Why you wasting your time with that schmuck?' he asked, sniggering as Flacks eyes turned hard and angry. 'You're pretty, but no offence, you're not his type.'
'His type?'
'Yeah, you know, you being classy and all?' he grinned wider, knowing he was pushing all the right buttons with his friend. He missed the subtle weight shift on her part, shuffling her feet.
She arched one thin eyebrow. 'Classy?' she asked, but Danny was just watching Flack turning red with anger or embarrassment, he couldn't tell.
'Yeah,' most of the girls he dates, well, they don't dress like you, to put it lightly.'
She paused, thinking. 'Well, it's a good thing I'm not his date, isn't it?'
Danny frowned slightly, confused but not shutting up. 'Then you are…?'
Then she said something he would never have expected, not if he lived to be a hundred. 'Your new boss,' she retorted, a smile playing around her lips.
He froze, panicking. He was dead. No way would his boos put up with that. He'd be lucky to escape with his life, never mind his job. Flack smirked from behind her. Glad someone finds it amusing, he thought bitterly, glaring at him. 'She got you good Messer,' he laughed, and she smiled as well, holding a small hand out.
'Taylor Mason, new CSI. Does Messer have a first name?' she asked, and Danny frowned, not sure whether to laugh or be insulted. He chose laughter, only just.
'Danny. Danny Messer,' he said, taking the offered hand.
'Nice to meet you Danny, Danny Messer,' she said, before turning to Flack.
'I'll see you later?' she asked.
'Sure. Here's my card,' he smiled, handing her a small white cardboard rectangle. She took it and stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.
'It's good to see you again Don,' she said simply, heading over to the elevator, Danny following her, shaking his head slightly at Flack.
Having someone like Taylor around would certainly make his day more fun, if her sense of humour was to be judged by her Aston Kutcher brand of pranks. Only time would tell, he guessed, catching up to her as she stepped inside the elevator.
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