A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed the first story - it looks like this has become a series!

Disclaimer: Characters and setting belong to CBS and the CSI:NY creative team; the plot belongs to me.


I Won't

"Come on, Messer! What's the matter with you? You have 48 hours of freedom left before the chains fall around your ankles, before the door clangs shut on your carefree bachelor ways, before you are shackled to one woman for the rest of your life," Flack shook his head in mocking sorrow. "It's traditional; you gotta have a party."

"Are you out of your mind? Do you know what Lindsay would do to me if I fucked anything up? I would be dead meat, hanging out in a smoke house in the Bridger Mountain range before you even knew I was missing. I like all my essential parts exactly where they are, thank you very much!" Danny Messer turned his back on the man he had called friend for more than five years now.

"She doesn't have to know," Flack ignored Danny's disbelieving snort. "She and Stella have some thing going tonight, don't they? So if we go to the bar tonight, knock around a few balls, watch the game, toss back a few brews, who is going to tell her?"

Danny raised an eyebrow, looking behind Flack, who rolled his eyes as he saw Mac standing in the door, "Come on, Mac, don't tell me you didn't have a bachelor party?"

"Okay. I won't tell you," Mac grinned at Flack's theatrical moan of distaste for the vaudeville-age joke. "Seriously? No party – I was shipping out in four days when we decided to get married before I left. We didn't have time for anything like that."

Or much else, Danny reflected somberly. A marriage lasting just over a decade no longer seemed enough for Danny; he was looking to be one of those old couples on the bus who seemed to have shrunken into mirror images of each other as they aged together. He grinned at the thought.

"I kind of regret it now, though," Mac said thoughtfully, smirking at the two younger men. "Come on, Danny. A few drinks, some time with the guys; it could be the last time for a long time. Besides, I'm pretty sure you owe me a drink."

Danny looked up at his boss, a little startled, "I owe you a drink? I'm pretty sure I don't."

Mac nodded solemnly, though his eyes were laughing, "You remember the bride and doves case? The one where people were dying in the toxic clothes? I told you it could happen to you – falling in love, that is – and you said …?"

"Don't even joke about something like that." Hawkes, who came into the room as if on cue, joined in with Flack on the chorus.

"Hey, Doc, you up for a few beers to celebrate the demise of the NYPD's most eligible bachelor?" Flack stood up from the chair where he had been relaxing in the break room and put a friendly arm around Danny's shoulders, simply leaning on him until the shorter man was forced to move in the direction of the door.

"I think that could be arranged, yes. I'll meet you at Sullivan's – just want to collect a few people," Hawkes grinned at Danny's hurried and agonized whisper, "Not Dr. Hammerback, please, Hawkes! He'll tell me something weird and creepy and it will be stuck in my head forever!"

Flack dragged Danny down the street to the bar, shouting out when they walked through the door, "Hey guys, listen up! It's my buddy's last real night of freedom, and since he refuses to run, I think we owe it to him to at least make sure he can't remember tonight! Danny Messer is getting married on Saturday!"

The bar exploded into raucous jeers, with men shouting out ribald advice, calling out searching questions, and of course, standing rounds for Danny and his faithful companion. Flack looked around in stunned approval as pint after pint of beer was sent to the table.

"I don't know, Danny, this is starting to look up a little. Maybe I should re-think this whole commitment thing."

Danny saluted Flack with the first pint that came to hand. "You need a girl, Flack. I've always said it."

"I have plenty of girls. You took the only one worth keeping for longer than a night," Flack tipped his glass against Danny's and took a sip.

"I'll drink to that!" Danny did so, and then slyly said, "Of course, you will have a chance to spend some time with Stella on Saturday; she's standing up with Lindsay."

Flack choked a little, "What are you talking about?"

Danny raised his eyebrows, "Well, you are going to be my best man, aren't you?"

"What if I have plans Saturday night?" Flack shot back with a smug grin. "Besides, I thought you'd ask Mac; you know, he's like your mentor or something."

"You're my friend, Don. I'd like you to stand with me." Danny was looking down at his beer, serious for a moment.

Flack cleared his throat, "Yeah, man. You know I'm honoured to do it." He took another drink, a little too fast, and coughed as the beer burned through his throat.

"Wow, man, if I'd known you couldn't hold your beer, I wouldn't have asked you!" Danny laughed.

"Just tell me Linds picked the wine for the dinner, okay?" Flack begged. "I don't think I can eat a roast beef dinner with beer."

"Beef? You kidding? Her parents are bringing nothing but the finest Montana buffalo, pardner," Danny laughed again at the horrified look on Flack's face. "Don't worry, you won't notice the difference."

"So, a wedding in the park with a buffalo barbeque to follow, and a sound system provided by Adam? Whose fantasy wedding is this, anyway?"

Danny's whole face softened, "We didn't have much time to plan, and this is how Montana wanted it: simple. I don't care; I'd have waited and given her the biggest wedding in the world if she'd wanted it."

Flack cleared his throat again, "You really have it bad."

"Yeah."

The soft reply choked Flack up again.

"Hey guys, you started without us!" Hawkes, Mac, Adam, and Sid Hammerback all joined them at the table, each grabbing one of the many pint glasses sent over by the crowd.

Danny sat at the head of the table, his head swimming a little, watching his friends laugh and tell stories. Sid had done his worst, telling anyone who would listen about a bachelor party he had attended in the morgue, with a stripper posing as a dead body, coming out of one of the cold chambers. Danny shivered: he'd never think of those spaces in quite the same way after Sid had described how several of the partygoers had decided to warm the girl up again.

"Hey, Danny! Look guys, it's my little bro, Danny!"

Danny froze for a moment as Louie Messer's voice cut through the congenial noise. He looked up cautiously, checking out Louie's companions. Damn. Their cousin Buddy Messer, who was supposed to stick with Louie and keep him out of trouble, was grinning stupidly, obviously flying on something. The other two, Joe Molinaro and Vince Gennaro, were hanging back a little, looking out of the corners of their eyes at the bar full of cops.

"Danny! I knew I'd find you here! Come on, buy me a drink, 'kay?" Louie sat down beside his younger brother and fondly wrapped an arm around his neck, kissing him loudly on each cheek before grinning happily around the table. "Are these your friends? Introduce me to your friends, Danny."

Teeth visibly clenched, Danny introduced his friends, as he did every time Louie ran into them. Louie smiled and nodded around the table, as the members of the team returned his cheerful greeting.

"So, Ma tells me you're getting married?" Louie's face creased in a worried frown. "She did, didn't she? You are getting married?"

Danny nodded and said quietly, "Yes, Louie. Lindsay and I are getting married on Saturday. Remember? You got that nice new suit to wear?"

Louie frowned again, this time searching his limited memory before a smile grew across his face. "It's blue!" he said proudly, nodding his head and taking a sip from Danny's beer.

Danny smiled and nodded, moving the beer out of Louie's sight. The suit was gray.

Louie shook his head, saying in a worried voice, "I don't think you should do it, man. You know you'll mess it up. You always mess things up. Who are you marrying?"

Danny froze again, then turned on Buddy Messer, "You should be watching him. He shouldn't be in here. He should be at home by now."

"Oh come on, Danny. It's just one night. He just wanted to go out. It's boring at the home." Buddy's whine grated across the table.

"Come on, Louie," Flack got up and took Louie's arm, seeing by the look on Danny's face that business was about to be taken care of. "Let's go outside and wait for your boys."

"Okay. Is Danny coming?"

"In a minute."

It was 2 o'clock in the morning, and Lindsay was struggling to finish Stella's dress, propping her eyes open to feed the hem through the machine. Then she could hang the dress in up in the bathroom and get some sleep before going to the airport to pick up her parents and 200 pounds of buffalo roast. Stella had fallen asleep an hour earlier, curling up on the couch, wrapped in the quilt Lindsay's grandmother had made her for her graduation. The phone rang, and Lindsay nearly jumped out of her skin, ramming a pin into her thumb in her haste to grab the phone before it woke Stella.

"Lindsay."

It was Danny's voice, tired and distressed and, she was a little surprised to realize, drunk.

"Danny, what's wrong?" She took the phone into the kitchen, speaking quietly.

"Lindsay, I just phoned to tell you I won't."

"You won't what, Danny?"

"I love you, you know that."

"Yes, I know that. What's the matter, Danny? Are you okay? Is Flack with you?"

"I phoned to tell you I won't."

"Won't what?" Lindsay could feel the edges of her heart start to freeze over. He sounded so despairing, so unhappy.

"I won't screw this up."

She sighed in relief, and nearly laughed, but his voice told her he was deeply serious about this.

"Danny, I know you won't. We won't. We are going to be okay, I promise."