Title: Cowards
Rating: Strong T, for some strong language.
Pairing: Flack/Angell, Danny/Lindsay
Summary: "Being scared of caring doesn't make you a coward. But being scared to act on that does!" Everyone is afraid of something, but it's what we do with that fear which defines us. Flack confronts his feelings for Jess, and things don't go according to plan.
Disclaimer: Nada. Don't own a sausage. Literally.
A/N: This begins after 5x10. I might continue this, but bear in mind this is not fluff. It's not sweet and not everything will stick to the actual events of CSI:NY. After all, it is a drama...
Jess sat back in her chair, her stillettos resting on the casefiles heaped on her desk. Though, in her defense, most of them were Flack's that he'd dumped during one of his many clean-outs, and then been called away before he could finish. But her own DD5's were calling, and she really should have been working on them, otherwise as Tash always told her, they'd be there on Monday morning, with an angry Captain stood next to 'em. But at 9 o'clock at night, she just couldn't be bothered. The only reason she was staying was because she intended to corner Flack and force him into explaining just what he meant to do by kissing her then never bringing it up again.
She hadn't told Tash about that. No, the other homicide Detective would tease her mercilessly. She already took great delight in pointing out their flirting to her at every available moment. There was no need to give her extra ammunition.
Just when she had given up hope, he strode in, looking tired. "Hey."
"Hey yourself," Angell replied with a smile, leaning back into the chair.
"What're you doing here so late?" He frowned, glancing around at the near-empty squadroom.
She narrowed her eyes. "Waiting for you."
"Oh."
Something in his tone of voice caught her. "Oh?"
"Jess... I know what you want to talk about."
Of course you do, she thought tiredly. What you don't.
"I promise we can, it's just Danny called, and wants to tell me something. Can this wait?"
"Well, it has for about three weeks." She muttered, half to herself. Before she could do something drastic, Angell stood up and pulled on her jacket, standing up quickly. "Alright. See you whenever then, I guess."
Flack watched her leave guiltily. It was partly that Danny had asked him to meet at Sullivans, and partly because he just didn't want to talk. He'd deliberately stopped himself from getting involved with her for a whole year - allowing himself a casual line here and there, but nothing that meant irreversable change. Nothing that could risk both their careers. Though the repercussions on him for sleeping with a partner would be substantial, it wouldn't be as bad as it would be for Jess. She'd have that as a permanant blot on her record - trying to sleep her way up the food chain, as the supers would see it. Kissing her had been a stupid moment of weakness, and he didn't want to do anything about it.
Not because he didn't like her.
Because he did like her. He needed to protect her.
Danny smacked the pool cue against the ball, sending it spinning into the hole. Flack groaned internally, thinking his fifty bucks was lost for sure. By now he should know better than to bet on the outcome of a pool game where Danny was involved. "So..."
"So."
Hawkes leaned back against the table, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Is there something you gotta say, Messer? You've been jittery all day."
The CSI ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair making it stick up every which way, biting his lip. He was clearly in the middle of an internal battle, and to be frank, Flack couldn't be bothered with all of it. He'd prefer to be sat on his couch watching Letterman and eating a steak than stood in a bar watching Danny whoop his ass at pool and worry over whether or not to tell them of something that was probably of little significance.
"Lindsay's pregnant."
Okay, maybe not so insignificant, then.
Hawkes had unfortunately just taken a sip of his beer, which was promptly spat back out at this surprising bit of news. "She's what?!" He choked, gasping for air as the liquid entered his lungs.
"Pregnant," Danny repeated with a hint of disbelief in his own voice. "She told me a week ago." He rubbed his jaw. "Uh-huh. I'm, ah... I'm gonna be a dad, I guess."
Flack slapped Danny on the back, feeling strange. He was happy for his friend, it was just that there was a strange bubbling emotion in his chest. And it wasn't the ridiculous amounts of beer and potato chips he'd consumed since his entrance to Sullivans an hour and a half ago. He guessed Stella with all her psycho-babble would claim that he was drowning his sorrows in alcohol to forget his screw-up tendencies with women; he either hooked up with them and broke up with them, or he let the one (well, one of a select few) woman that he truly cared for get away to avoid her worming her way into his heart, just for him to let her down.
He doubted he'd ever get the chance to have what Danny was going to have. Not in this lifetime, anyway. And Flack had little faith in the afterlife, either.
"That's brilliant, Dann-o. You'll make a great dad." He congratulated the smaller man, forcing a grin.
Despite the happy daze Danny seemed to be in, he could tell there was something wrong with his friend. "Ok, spill. What's up?"
Don glanced up, looking surprised. "Huh?"
"Well, you've not yelled at me for knockin' up Montana yet. Or made some joke. Something's wrong."
Hawkes turned to the homicide detective. "Look, we might be able to help!"
Rolling his eyes, Flack leaned against the pool table. "Look, Danno's just told us he's having a kid, and you want to dwell on my problems? Get outta here. C'mon! So, a kid? Jeez... Danno, you had better not screw this up."
Danny glared at him. "Bullshit, man. Either tell me what the hell is going on, or I'm gonna pour your guiness over your head."
Don glowered, silently pleading with Hawkes for help, to no avail.
"C'mon, Don. Whatever it is..."
"Girl trouble." He replied shortly, in a tone that suggested he was less than willing to say more. Not that this would deter the investigators he foolishly called friends.
"Flack, you go through girls like Adam goes through test tubes. You keep 'em for what, a few weeks? Devon was your longest relationship, and she lasted what, two or three months? Since when do you have girl trouble? Commitment trouble maybe..." Danny smirked, leaning against his pool cue.
"You were the same before Montana!" Don objected, but shut his eyes briefly. "Fine. I... I like someone. I am not naming names, so don't even bother. But she... is so not my usual type. Really, not at all. But God, it's like... we were friends, then something changed. Not much, but enough to notice. Then... we kissed, and now... I can't. I can't date her, because I always screw it up. Always. And I can't mess her around."
Hawkes studied his friend's face. His expression was genuine, mild pain flickering across his face, but a look of resignation in his eyes. He genuinely cared about her, but he'd also given up any hope of anything coming of it. "Does J- she feel the same?"
"Um... hell knows." Flack shrugged, taking a long drink of his beer.
Danny grinned. "I take it professionalism is an issue?"
"No ides what you're talkin' 'bout."
Hawkes shook his head slightly at Danny, who tried to hide a snigger. Of course they both knew who he was talking about, but in his current frame of mind, telling him that would be like poking a rattlesnake with a large stick. Bad idea. "Look, man, if you want my advice-"
"Never asked for it."
"-You'll go to her place, tell her how you feel, and why you've been behaving like an ass, then let her make her own mind up. She's smart, she'll make the right choice."
With a sigh, Flack nodded and drained the last of his drink. "Okay. She might shoot me, but still. Thanks, guys. And... congrats, Danno. You and Linds. Do me a favour though."
"What?"
"Marry her. You'll get why soon enough."
Keaving a mystified Danny and a chuckling Hawkes behind, Flack grabbed his jacket and set off, in the opposite direction to his own apartment.
Jess was glowering at the Doctor Who re-runs. Stupid doctor. Bet he didn't have the hassle of really, really wanting to get something going with a co-worker, who didn't reciprocate those feelings. Stupid doctor, who didn't have anything to worry about other than keeping Rose happy. He thought juggling a cute assistant and the pressure of having to save the Universe was tough? Live her life for a month and he'd be begging for the damn Daleks.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at her door. She stood up, her navy blue hockey socks (incidently the exact same colour of the NYPD t-shirt she was wearing) sending her skidding across the hardwood floor, cursing all the while. Her grey sweatpant slipped slightly, the only giveaway that she'd lost weight recently, largely due to excessive double shifts, overtime and totally unecessary and unwanted heartache. She'd got home, changed into her current attire, tied her long brown hair into a ponytail and crashed out in front of the TV. Now, someone was rudely interrupting that.
She opened the door to see Flack stood outside, a sad smile on his face. "Lindsay's pregnant."
Jess was mildly surprised, as she folded her arms. "Whoa. Okay... okay. So... why are you here?" she asked, wondering why the hell he needed to come over and tell her. She wanted him here, but she didn't want him here. Besides, Lindsay would tell her friend herself the next day.
"Um... I'm not - I... I've been a complete ass for thye past few weeks. I kissed you, not the other way around. I shouldn't have behaved like this. It's just... I don't want to hurt you, Jess. I care about you more than you can imagine, and I have a tendency to screw up relationships. I don't want to do that to you. Plus, I outrank you, so if anyone found out... He trailed off, searching her face for a reaction.
She stepped back. "Come in. Beer's in the fridge."
He helped himself, before turning back to her. "I... I kissed you without finding out if you wanted me to, if you were okay with me doing that, But... I took advantage of you, of you trying to help me." "
"Don..." she took a few steps closer, so the gap between them was only a few inches. "Ever stopped to think I took advantage of you? Maybe I realised you were hurting, maybe I had a feeling something like that would happen." Jess shrugged, her gaze holding his steadily. "Maybe I wanted it to happen."
Flack half-smiled. "Jess, you know me better than anyone. You know me better than Danny, than Mac, than Stella... You get why I end up in so much shit, you get it. So you should know by now that getting involved with me would be stupid, because I am not a dating kind of guy." He sighed, moving past her to lean against her kitchenette counter. "Jess, you'd risk people finding out, being passed up for promotions, being laughed at, people accusing you of trying to sleep your way up the grades, trying every step of the way to split us up."
She shrugged, a sullen look crossing her face. "Who gives a damn what the likes of Vicaro and Thacker think? We're adults, we can make our own decisions." An angry look replaced the sullen one quickly, her face darkening. "Hey, it was you that started flirting with me! You kissed me. Not the other way round. So maybe, if you didn't want something to happen, you shoulda thought of that!"
"Shoulda, woulda, coulda." He muttered, before taking a step closer and resting his hand against her upper arm. "Jess, don't for a moment think that I don't care about you, okay? I do, more than you realise. You're my best friend, and God you are so beautiful, and smart, and funny... And the reason I'm trying to say no, is because I want to protect you. Don't you realise? If I was doing this for me, I'd have been halway to your bedroom the first time we met."
Jess folded her arms defiantly. "I can take care of myself."
"I wish I could believe that." Don whispered, his eyes filled with sadness. "But you're more breakable than you'd like to think, and I could push you over the edge."
"I can live with that!"
"I can't." He sighed, leaning forwards and pressing a light kiss to her cheek. His lips lingered on the soft skin, drinking in the scent of her shampoo. But the contact was broken as he pulled away and headed for the door.
She watched him go, fury bubbling inside her, like fire coursing through her veins. Nobody got under Jessica Angell's skin. No-one. And Flack was no damn exception. So why the hell did he think that reacting like this, behaving like this was okay? It just plain and simply pissed her off. There was no way he was going to walk out of that door and not mention this little event again.
"Coward."
Flack froze, his hand on the door handle. He noted the harsh tone of her voice, and spun around to face her. There was a cold fury in her eyes as they blazed brilliantly. "What?"
"Coward." She repeated angrily, fists clenched.
He laughed disbelievingly. "Oh, so I'm a coward. How d'you come to that conclusion then?"
Jess glared at him. "Because you're not scared of staring down the barrel of an AK47. You're not scared to be shut in a cell with a murderer. You're not scared to shoot someone. You're not scared to be shot at."
Confusion swept over him. "So... that makes me a coward?"
"But you are scared of feeling something. Not happy when the Rangers win, or amused when Danny says something done, or pissed off at a child molester... You're scared to feel something significant. You were scared for Danny, when he was fucking his life up. You were scared for me, when I went undercover with Suspect X. You were scared when you thought your sister was in trouble. You were scared when you kissed me. Don't think I don't know, Don. Because you said it yourself, I know you better than anyone." There was a flicker of pain and hurt in his friend's eyes as she continued on her rant. "You're scared, because you feel something for me. You're scared because we might mess this up. You're scared because you might lose me. You're a coward, Don Flack."
Flack glared at her. "Oh, so caring makes me a coward? Is that what kind of twisted world you live in?"
"No!" She yelled. "And being scared of caring doesn't make you a coward. But being scared to act on that does!"
His eyes narrowed. "I'll show you cowardly."
She wasn't afraid as he crossed the short space between them, looking like he wanted to hit her. She was just... mad. And the anger didn't disappear when he kissed her. No, the entire kiss was filled with rage. His lips crashed down onto hers, and it was nothng like their previous kiss. There was nothing tender, or thoughtful about it. There was no thanks involved, more like one giant 'screw you'. His hand knotted into her hair, the other arm locked around her waist, holding her against him. Her hands rested on his shoulders, her fingers digging into his flesh. There was a flash of pain, as he sucked her bottom lip furiously, and heat as his toungue caressed hers. He tasted of beer, she noted for some reason. Their mouths moved in synchronisation as they poured their anger out into each other, the feeling slowly fading as he softened his hand, cupping her neck. They leaned into the kiss, desperate to avoid coming up for air. Because if they came up for air, they risked breaking the spell. They risked having to go back to real life.
Eventually, the need for air overcame them. They broke apart, breathing heavily as their foreheads pressed together.
"I'm sorry, Jess. But I'm too much of a coward." Flack whispered, his voice heavy with regret. He brushed away the tear on her cheek and kissed her once, briefly on the lips before turning and leaving as abruptly as he'd arrived.
Jess watched him go, the tears rolling freely down her cheeks. Her entire chest ached, longing for him to just hold her. Just enough to tell her that everything was going to be okay, that she would survive. She'd never been in love before, but she thought she was now.
And she hated every second of it.
Love it? Hate it? Want me to continue? Drop me a review, please! Also, am happy to accept constructive criticism.
Anna.