Note From The Author—Okay, so I guess all of my stories lately just go to show how much music inspires me and how intertwined it is with my life. This story was inspired by the Jordin Sparks and Chris Brown song No Air, which showed up when I was watching So You Think You Can Dance. It's short and ridiculously, ridiculously fluffy and deviates a bit from the gist of the song, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.
Disclaimer—I don't own the characters of CSI: NY, the song No Air, or So You Think You Can Dance.
Flack wondered when he had become a coward. As far as he could remember he never had been before. He was the type to throw himself into harms way to save another and stand up to the most ruthless of criminals. He was strong, mentally and physically. He did what needed to be done when it needed to be done. He had been blown up, for God's sake; and had he given up the fight? No! He had pulled through, gone through the rehab and they psych evals and gotten back on the streets to do what he did best as soon as he could. So if all of this was the truth then why the hell did one woman make him want to bury his head in the sand?
The thought of telling Stella Bonasera how he felt about her absolutely terrified him and that absolutely made him a coward. Flack had tried more times than he cared to count to bring up the fact that he had fallen for her ass over tea kettle, but he could never seem to actually force the words past his lips. Every time he tried it was as if every molecule in his body rebelled against his brain, and he completely froze up. The first few times he had stammered rather unattractively, forcing him to write it off as exhaustion. The next few he couldn't seem to remember to breathe long enough to say anything at all.
Eventually he gave up trying, yet that hadn't been any more satisfying. After that he just felt like a complete idiot and was reminded uncomfortably of being back in high school. So he was very often left sitting at his desk, laying in bed, or standing in the shower berating himself for his cowardice and wishing he could muster up the courage to just spit it out.
As he stood in interrogation watching her go to work on some psycho who had taken out his mommy issues on a mother of four who just happened to look like his own mother, he was struck yet again with the same feeling of annoyance with himself. Here was this magnificent woman with the brain of a Nobel Prize winner and the face of a Grecian goddess and he couldn't even find it in him to say a few words. He was so sick of it, and if he never let her know then he would never even have the smallest chance with her.
Don stewed for the rest of the interrogation, letting Stella take the lead. Their guy sang like a canary and as the perp was led away, he tried to bolster the confidence he so desperately needed. He knew he wasn't a coward, and he swore he was going to do it, then and there.
Her voice startled him and he looked up from where he was still sitting at the interrogation table as she spoke. "Are you feeling okay Don?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," he told her, all the while trying to convince himself of it.
Stella sat next to him. "Are you sure? You were quieter than usual during the interrogation. I kept expecting you to jump in."
He shook his head. "Just tired I guess."
"What's going on Don? The past couple of months you've been exhausted all the time, you're distracted; is there something wrong?"
Flack saw the worry in her eyes and cursed himself for putting it there. She cared about every member of their team so much; he should have known she would notice something was off with him. "I'm okay Stell."
"You know you can talk to me right?" she asked.
There it was; the opening. He'd had them before and hadn't been able to take them, but today he would. Bracing himself he turned his chair, smiling a bit when she automatically did the same so they were sitting face to face. "I want to tell you something, and it's going to seem like it's coming out of nowhere, but hear me out okay?"
She was as attentive as usual. "I'm listening."
"I have completely fallen for you Stell, there's no other way to say it." He saw the way those big green eyes of hers widened and pushed on. "It's been heading that way for a while, probably since I met you; I'm honestly not sure. Point is I've been trying to tell you for months. The problem is that every time I'm around you seem to take my breath away, and it's difficult to say anything with no air. I've felt like a coward for so long because I haven't been able to just spit it out, but I'm telling you now." It went completely silent for a moment and he shook his head. "Don't leave me hanging here Stell, say something."
Stella shook her head. "I never thought you were this clueless."
"I've said it before and I'm sure I'll say it again; you're going to have to talk to me like I'm a toddler because I'm not sure what you mean."
"What I mean is that you've always been so perceptive, but there are a few things that have managed to completely escape you." She scooted her chair closer, resting her hands on his knees. "If you had been paying closer attention you would have realized that I've been going through the same thing as you." With a smile she leaned forward, bringing her lips a bare whisper from his. "You're not the only one who's been falling Don."
Their mouths barely brushed as she spoke and they both found that the small first contact wasn't nearly enough. It wasn't a matter of one of them closing the short distance between them, they came together in tandem. It felt a bit like coming home, and he found the taste of her just as heady and intoxicating as he had always imagined. Yet as much as they both would have loved to stay there forever, they were in the heart of the station. As Stella slid her hands up from his knees and realized that she was on the verge of crawling into his lap, they both knew it was time to pull away.
"To be continued," he sighed.
She nodded, squeezing his knee gently. "To be continued."
They stood together, and Flack smiled as Stella wiped a smear of lip gloss off his mouth. As they walked towards the door he caught her hand and pulled her to a stop. "One for the road." Their mouths met again, and as they did he couldn't help but think back. He knew she would always take his breath away, but really it didn't matter if he could have her in his life. Breathing was overrated anyway.