Title: Fortune favors

Author: Ceindreadh

Fandom: CSI NY

Characters/Pairing: Flack/Mac

Rating: FRT/PG-15

Genre: fun and serious and a little smut thrown in

Summary: A little conversation before bedtime

Warnings: Inspired by Boo, but no specific spoilers, Charge of this post

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the CSI NY characters, I'm only borrowing them, and I promise to return them in minty fresh condition when I'm finished.

------------------

"I'm telling ya Mac, you can't just ignore all that tarot cards and voodoo hoodah," said Flack. He was sitting up in the double bed, watching as Mac undressed.

Mac stripped quickly and efficiently, his soiled clothing ending up in the laundry basket, anything clean being folded and placed neatly on the chair in the corner. He pulled on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt before sliding into the bed beside Flack. "I didn't think you were the superstitious type," he said as he scrunched up the pillows the way he liked them. When the pillow had been punched into submission, Mac lay on his side looking up at Flack. "Don't tell me you believe in all that."

"I didn't say that, but you got to admit, there's some folks with pretty creepy powers out there. I once came across this chick, told me a lot of stuff…even made some pretty accurate predictions…"

"Oh yeah?" asked Mac, one hand idly stroking Flack's leg through the bedclothes. "Like what?"

Flack covered Mac's hand with his. "Couple a little things, then she said that one day…one day I'd find my soul mate…and that they'd heal my body…" He squeezed Mac's hand, "…and that I'd heal their heart…"

There was silence for a few seconds before Flack added, "Course I dunno, maybe it was all a load of crap…" He started to pull his hand away, but Mac didn't let it go.

"Even a stopped clock is right twice a day," said Mac, he interlaced his fingers with Flack's, squeezing softly. "I'm not saying I believe in psychic ability…but I believe in you and that you've helped me and healed me in ways I couldn't ever have imagined before I met you. It doesn't take a psychic to know that you're a good person, Don." His thumb moved in circles against Flack's skin. A simple gesture but one born of long shared intimacy, as evocative of their bond as any kiss would have been.

There was comfortable silence between them for a few minutes before Mac spoke again, "So, what did you do, cross her palm with silver for more revelations?"

"Hell no, I ran her in for trading without a license. Course she wasn't too happy about it. Cursed and swore at me, threatened to make my dick shrivel up…" A worried expression appeared on Flack's face, and he let go of Mac's hand so he could lift the bedclothes and look beneath them. "Oh crap, Mac…I think she's right…that's definitely smaller than it was this morning…I've been cursed! Do something!" He flung back the bedclothes.

"Well," said Mac, a smile on his face, "It just so happens that I have vast experience in breaking curses like this." He rolled over and sat astride Flack. "I don't think I need to be a psychic to promise you that in say ten minutes time I will have you fully functional and back you your 'normal' size…"

He was wrong of course…it only took five minutes…but neither of them were counting.

-----------------

The End

Ceindreadh