Title: Late Night
Author: Kenuck
Fandom: CSI: New York
Characters: Sheldon Hawkes, Jennifer Angell.
Spoilers: General season two and three; "People with Money".
Rating: K+
Warning: None.
Disclaimer: "Late Night" is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Author's Notes: Thank you to the wonderful and talented Maijajo for the beta.
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On a busy Saturday night, Sullivan's was the most happening place for off-duty law enforcement to mingle and share stories of the week's work while nursing a large frothy draft beer or a simple cocktail.
Sheldon Hawkes was not much of a party guy. He would be much happier alone in his apartment, indulging in a rich, palpable archaeological textbook with Shostakovich on the stereo, than be a wallflower at a cavernous bar, surrounded by familiar, but unrecognizable faces. It wasn't the fact that he had been persuaded to show up that troubled him, but the fact that he had yet to convince himself that it was the right idea to.
At nine o'clock, the bar was already packed tight like a can of sardines; the dining area full of clamouring patrons, clinking glasses and bottles. The bar was in much worse condition: bodies were close as the night din continued, the overlapping voices blending together to create a melody of conversation.
He searched the bar area, and proceeded past the tables to the booths tucked away in the back corner, where he found Jennifer Angell sitting all by her lonesome, a margarita sitting on the table before her. She appeared drained of energy, her cheek rested in her palm and her eyes centralized on the crowd watching the football game at the bar.
Approaching slowly, almost cautiously, like a tiger stealthily creeps up on its prey, Hawkes approached the booth.
"Sheldon," Angell greeted warmly. "I'm glad you came."
He exposed a smile and said, "Me, too." She gestured for him to sit down, he slid into the booth and sat opposite the newly minted Homicide detective. He felt himself staring at her, his gaze captured by her glowing beauty
"What will you have?" she asked, fondling the strap of her emerald, halter top. The shirt glimmered in the dim lighting of the bar, reflecting the bright twinkle of pearl sequins.
"A beer would be good."
Angell waved for a nearby waitress and Hawkes watched as she talked with the blond server, so focused on her that she had to repeat his name to ask what kind of draft he wanted.
"Uh, Budweiser will do," he stuttered, silently berating himself for beckoning the spotlight onto his lapse. Angell just laughed and glanced down at her drink nervously. He knew that she, too, felt the restive air between them.
"So," he began, "how was your first week?"
"Definitely interesting," she said. "To be honest with you, it wasn't exactly what I had expected."
"What did you expect?"
"I don't know." She sunk back and squared her shoulders. "A bit more...action, maybe?"
Hawkes laughed. "You know, it's not exactly the same job as what's portrayed on Law and Order, Jennifer."
They laughed together, and Hawkes thanked the waitress when she brought him his beer. The awkward silence settled in again, but they soon found another topic to talk about. The time flew by, minutes turning to hours, and soon it was midnight.
Filing out onto the sidewalk, he hailed her a cab and said goodbye. Just before she ducked into the darkness of the back seat, Hawkes grabbed her arm, stopping her. He stared at her for a moment, observing the bright street lamp shining on her smouldering green eyes, the wave of the chocolate tendrils hanging around her face, and the curve of her painted lips.
He leaned in close and captured her in a sweet, innocent kiss. And as they pulled back, breathless, they said their farewells again, and he watched the cab drive off, disappearing into the darkness.