Title?
Author: geekslasher
Rating: PG
Pairing: Danny/Flack
Part: 1?
Summary: Most of the time, Flack loves his job. But some day, he really loves his job. Flack POV.
Disclaimer: I do not own Det. Don Flack, nor Danny Messer, nor CSI: NY. If I did, I swear, they'd be so much happier.
Warnings: Uh... nothing.
Author's Notes::snort: I get fic ideas in the weirdest places. Church, school, when I shower. It's nut. This one all started by the sentence "I have a glasses kink, so what". Also, unbeta'd, so excuse bad grammer and such. Commentary is welcome.

Most of the time, I love my job. Sure, there are the low points, the sad, grieving parents, or the confused, little children that don't understand why mommy or daddy isn't coming home. There are those cases so brutal or haunting that the vivid aftermath are dreams that come every night for weeks after. But some days, like today, I really love my job.

I'm standing, after interviewing the kids who found the dead body (who, by the way, aren't very helpful and I kind of think they were doing something they weren't supposed to-- why on earth would you look into a dumpster that smells that bad?), watching as Danny Messer goes through the dumpster were the found said corpse. Or, more accurately, I'm watching his backside. He's bent completely over the side, somehow managing his balance and not diving head first into the garbage, with his butt in the air. Not that I mind, really. It's a nice picture. Very nice.

I know, I should probably be more discreet about staring at the CSI when there are uniforms walking around, but really, I can't help it. Danny's got a nice butt. It really should be appreciated more. I know several ways I could appreciate it...

No, gotta stop that line of thinking right there. Shouldn't be thinking that here. Nuh uh, that's reserved for at home, where I can handle it better. Heh, "hand"le.

I don't know when this feelings for Danny began, but I know that I better knock this off before he catches me. I've always thought he was... attractive, though. Handsome. Striking. Ok, Ok, he's hot as hell. We've played basketball together for a while, and yeah, let me tell ya, it's really hard to keep my thoughts under control then, too. Heh, "hard". I'm just full of puns today.

Anyway, Danny's (finally) pushing away from the dumpster and hops to the ground. As he turns around the first thing I look at is his mouth. I can't help it. He has a nice mouth, too. Soft, pink lips, perfect white teeth, and a tongue that seems to be moving constantly in tandem with his constant chatter. I wonder (not for the first time) what it be like to kiss him. Feel said soft lips and the rough scratch of his blond stubble on my face. Feel his tongue in my mouth as the kiss gets more passionate and then...

"Flack! Are you even listening?" Danny snaps, shocking me out of my daydream.

"Uh..." Yeah, that's a wonderful answer. "No, sorry, what were you saying?"

"I said, Hawkes said that the vic was bludgeoned with a long, hard object. Help me look down the alley for something like that, in case the killer dumped it around here with the body."

I bite back a remark about where he can find a long, hard object. I don't think Danny will appreciate it properly.

As we slowly make our way down the alley, it comes to me how much I like Danny, even without his looks. He's smart, seems to know a little bit about everything. I like the way he gets excited about a case or about evidence. His enthusiasm has always seemed contagious. He funny, too, making jokes and trying to cheer up the people he cares about when they need it.

Plus, he's really hot in those glasses.

Yeah, I have a glasses kink. So what?

Danny's talking again. I'm not really paying attention. My attention's being controlled by his movements, the way his body moves as he moves down the alleyway. I'm glad I'm walking behind him.

"...Anyway, I really need to finish this case or Mac's gonna have my ass." Danny says.

"And what a fine ass it is." I mutter before I can stop myself.

Danny stops suddenly and whips around. "What?" he asks, even though I can tell from his expression that he heard what I said.

"Uh..." Again, I really need to work on that. "What?" I ask, hoping the whole playing-dumb thing will work.

"Did you just say what I think you said?" Danny asks. He doesn't look angry or disgusted, though. He looks... confused, with maybe a little bit of amusement tossed in. Which maybe isn't a bad thing, maybe it is a bad thing, I'm not quite sure.

I'm about to come back with "What do you think I said?" when Danny's cell phone rings. He throws me one more bemused glance before answering it and starting to talk to whoever is one the other line. Good, this gives me time to think of a story. Not that I can think of any good ones. What rhymes with "And what a fine ass it is"?

Danny closes his phone and turns back to me. "That was Mac, he needs me downtown at another scene. He's sending the tech's to search down here more for the murder weapon." Danny pauses, as though he wants to finish our earlier conversation. Please, please, please, no, I still don't have a good story to cover.

Danny takes a breath and shakes his head. "I better go or Mac will have my ass." he says with a small smile. Bastard. He knows.

I gape at him and slowly nod my head. As he walks past me back down the alley, he pats my shoulder. "We're not done with the conversation, Flack." And then, he's gone. Off to the other crime scene.

I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding.

I'm safe... for now.