Take Me or Leave Me
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"That is one goofy grin on your face there, Flack."
Don couldn't help but roll his eyes at the amused tone in Danny Messer's voice as he walked into the break room of the Crime Lab. Hell, he couldn't deny it. That "goofy" grin had been a permanent fixture on his face since he'd left Brooke Davis' apartment building last night. Just the memory of his lips touching hers could spring it back to life.
"What? You're not gonna share?" Danny pressed, his grizzled face smirking at him from his place against the counter, a coffee mug in his hand.
Next to him, Stella Bonasera peered over her shoulder, a frown marring her lovely face. "Share what?"
Before he could even open his mouth to reply, Danny grinned. "Flack had a hot date with an equally hot fashion designer last night."
Stella smiled, her eyes going wide with acknowledgement. "Ahhh…Brooke Davis? I'm only guessing here, of course, but I did notice the way you were gawking at her magazine the other day." She turned around, lifting her steaming coffee mug to her lips as she raised her eyebrows. "So come on, Flack. I'm a little interested to hear the details as well."
"Yeah, well, sorry to disappoint, but I don't kiss and tell," Flack said, shrugging his shoulders.
"Hear that, Stell, there was a kiss," Danny said, nudging the woman next to him with his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, but is this not a professional environment anymore? Geez, you'd think we didn't have a road-raging psycho on the loose, huh?"
Stella and Danny both grinned as they shoved away from the counter, Danny reaching out and patting his shoulder as he passed. "So you'll tell me later over a beer?"
Flack rolled his eyes and gave his friend a shove out the door, turning to meet Stella's gaze as she stopped before him.
"It's good to see you smile again, Don," she said, smiling as she nodded, her brown curls bouncing lightly with the movement. "This Brooke…she must be something special."
Flack grinned. "I'm starting to think so."
"Well, that's good. You'll have to bring her around when you find out for sure." Her lips puckered for a moment as her head of curls tilted to the side in thought, nodding. "Maybe you can swing me a great deal on shoes while you're at it."
Don laughed, shaking his head. "Glad I can be of service, Stell," he said, turning on his heel and striding into the hallway, aware of the self-assuring pat the older woman gave his back as she passed him.
He'd put his team through the wringer those first few months after Angell died. Between flaking his shifts, his drinking, and the various womanizing he did on the side, he was amazed he even had a team to come back to after Mac whipped him back into shape that afternoon at Terrance's apartment. It was an understatement when he said he was relieved there was no judgment from his friends. They didn't confront him about it or scold him. They didn't remind him everyday that he'd pretty much failed as a cop there for awhile. Instead, they just welcomed him back. They'd told him again and again how great it was to have the old Don making an appearance, and how, sooner or later, things were going to start looking up for him.
He smiled.
Maybe now he could tell them that things finally were.
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Brooke's heels clicked on the tile floor as she made her way down the hallway towards her office in Clothes Over Bros., balancing a large sketchpad and a cup of coffee in her hands as she smiled kindly at the receptionist behind the front desk.
She'd forgotten all about Jamie's play date after day school today until her young godson had reminded her on the way out the door. She'd silently cursed in her head as she took a different route than their usual, speeding into a little bakery bistro she'd come to love during her years living in New York. Holding onto Jamie's hand, they'd rushed inside and quickly picked out a batch of chocolate brownies for him to take with him, while also grabbing a large powdered donut because she was completely unable to deny the little boy's bright eyes as he pressed his face against the glass case.
So now she was hurrying down the hallway, her eyes glancing at the clock on the wall as she whirled the corner and pushed open the door to her office. She plopped her belongings onto her slightly cluttered desk, a smile of triumph on her face as she raised the cup to her lips.
Three minutes to spare.
She really was becoming a pro at this.
Sighing, she slid down into her leather chair, swiping a flyaway bang from her eyes as she powered up her computer and reached for the stack of memos that sat on the corner of her desk, Calliope's calligraphy handwriting nearly glaring up at her from the bright purple paper.
Calliope certainly wasn't near as great an assistant as Millicent had been, but she had her finer points.
She sighed, leaning back in her chair as she skimmed the small pile in her hands. Reminder of Macy's meeting, fabric conference with the distributers from Chicago, reminder of Jamie's 6 month check up…
"All work, no play," Brooke muttered softly, tossing the memos onto her desk as she leaned back, running a hand down her face. Her fingers came to rest on her lips, and she couldn't help the smile that spread across her face.
Well…maybe not ALL no play.
The memory of Don's lips pressed against hers was still fresh in her mind; the feeling of his hands around her waist, the smell of his cologne as he'd pulled her closer. The butterflies in her stomach were still a very strong presence, and she couldn't help the giddiness she felt as she thought back over last night.
A quick knock on the door to her office shook her out of her daze, and she snapped her eyes open to see Calliope hovering in the doorway, her young face holding a rather anxious expression as she looked at her.
Frowning, Brooke sat up. "What is it?"
Calliope stepped into the office, her purple pencil skirt devoid of a single wrinkle, shirt perfectly aligned, shoes nearly shining, and Brooke wondered again why she tried so hard to appear professional. She didn't consider herself a hard-ass boss. On the contrary, she thought she was pretty fair. She divided the work up evenly among her staff, taking their ideas and criticism with grace, even going so far as to feature some of their designs in her lines.
She liked Calliope, but at times she wished the young girl would just relax a little and enjoy herself more.
"Um, Brooke…there's a police officer on line one for you," she said softly, her brown eyes darting to the phone on the desk, where a small red light was blinking, indicating a held call. "He didn't mention what it was in regards to, but he said it was rather urgent. Something about not giving up easy until you spoke to him."
A smile crept its way across Brooke's face as her assistant rambled on, Don's voice repeating in her head that he didn't give up easy.
Well, he did say he would call her today….
Clearing her throat, she wiped the smile from her face, raising her eyes to meet Calliope's. "Thank you, Calliope," she said softly, scooting her chair closer towards the desk as she let her hand rest on the phone. She arched an eyebrow. "I think I can handle it. I'm sure it's just about an unpaid parking ticket or something silly like that."
She watched as the young girl nodded quickly and turned out of the office, shutting the door behind her. By the way she looked over her shoulder as she headed down the hallway, Brooke was sure the phone call from the NYPD was going to be the gossip at the water cooler.
Rolling her eyes, she picked up the phone, hitting the annoying red button as she settled back into her seat. "Brooke Davis," she said in her best Working Woman tone she could muster, her lips turning up into a smile when she heard Don's deep chuckle on the other end.
"Do I have a way of cutting red tape or what?"
She laughed, shaking her head. "Well, you certainly have my assistant quaking in her designer shoes," she said, her eyes peering down the hallway to see Calliope engaged in a feverish conversation with one of the computer analysts. "Before too long, the whole office will be talking about my infamous talk with the NYPD and wonder just what I did to warrant such a call in the first place. Best gossip they'll have had all month."
He winced playfully. "Yikes, that's the best gossip they've got? You must be one pretty lame celebrity, if that's the case."
Brooke chuckled, cradling the phone in the crook of her shoulder as she moved to straighten the small disaster area that was her desk. "So to what do I owe the pleasure, Detective Flack?"
"Missed the sound of your voice," he said, and she could see him shrugging in that adorable way she noticed he did when he was flirting. She grinned, unable to stop the sudden blush she could feel overtaking her face. "I was hoping maybe we could do date number two tonight."
"What did you have in mind?"
"You, me, and Jamie," he said. "I've got a feeling that I need to prove I'm way cooler than some cartoon fish on the TV." She could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, his obvious fondness for her godson already evident in his tone. "So, I'm thinking the three of us, a couple slices of the city's best, a good bottle of wine, apple juice for the kid. Maybe a little touchy-feely when he's not lookin'."
"Oooh," she laughed, shaking her head. "You say the sweetest things to me, Don Flack."
"You ain't heard nothing yet, doll. So what do you say?"
Brooke bit her bottom lip as she raised her eyes to the ceiling, twirling a piece of dark hair in her fingers. "Hmmm. Pizza, wine, with a possibility of touchy-feely? What girl can say no to that?"
Don laughed. "None that I'd care to meet." He was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. "By the way, you look beautiful today."
"Oh, yeah? And how would you know that? You got an officer tailing me?"
"Nope," he said, his lips popping the 'p' as she heard the grin in his voice. "But you've never looked anything less than dazzling since the day I met you, so I'm taking a wild guess." He heard her quiet, embarrassed laugh, and he grinned. "Told ya you hadn't heard anything yet."
"Comments like that could definitely guarantee you some touchy-feely moments tonight, Detective," Brooke said, smiling when she heard his deep chuckle, and she couldn't help the warmth that was slowly spreading across her cheeks.
"Are you completely degenerate? I said a 3 inch belt. The models are going to look like Howdy Doody!"
Brooke's gaze jerked up at the sound of the angry outburst, and she bit back a groan when she spotted the middle aged brunette woman heading towards her office, a look of furious determination on her face. She watched as Victoria spun on her heel, snarling some degrading comment towards the poor assistant flanking her heels, and she sighed, settling back in her chair with resignation.
"Everything alright?" Don asked, apparently noticing her sudden change in mood.
"Yeah," Brooke said, swiping at a stray hair on her forehead. "You think your job is dangerous, try living in the fashion world for a day. I've got a catfight to break up. Believe me, I'd much rather continue talking to you and hearing more of those nice things you've been saying to me."
"Trust me, Brooke Davis, you'll be hearing plenty of them tonight," Don said, causing the smile on her face to burst to life once more. "Go take care of your fashion catfight. I'll grab some Luigi's and be over at your place around 7."
"Sounds like a plan," Brooke replied. "Though I will warn you, Jamie is a pizza Casanova. It takes one hell of a pizza to impress him, and even then it barely compares to the pizza heaven that resides back in Tree Hill."
"I accept your challenge. The kid's going down. No one can deny that Luigi's is the best damn pizza in the city. Just you wait."
Brooke laughed, shaking her head. "Okay, Mr. Bad Cop. We'll see you and the 'best damn pizza' tonight."
They said their goodbyes, silly, nonsense goodbyes that left her smiling, and she replaced the phone back into its cradle, her heart seeming to flutter in her chest at just the thought of the handsome detective that had been on the other line.
Her good mood dissipated, however, when the door to her office slammed open.
Sighing she raised her eyes to meet the furious gaze of her mother, nodding over Victoria's shoulder that Calliope could leave. The young woman nodded once, casting one more terrified glance at the older woman's back, before she turned on her heel and nearly raced down the hallway.
"Yes, Victoria?"
"Please tell me this is some kind of joke," Victoria said, her arms crossed over her chest as she moved further into the room.
They looked alike, Brooke realized once again. The same dark hair, the same pale skin. Their eyes were nearly identical, but while hers were warm and welcoming, Victoria's was cold and malicious. After all, cold and malicious was what Victoria Davis did best.
Growing up, all Brooke had ever wanted was her mother's approval. Each of her actions throughout the years at Tree Hill High School were vain attempts at gaining it, and with each attempt she was met with bitter disappointment. It wasn't until she had started Clothes Over Bros. that Victoria had even shown any interest in her life.
At the time, Brooke had been so desperate for any kind of attention from her mother, she let her talk her into becoming partners in the company.
She didn't realize just how much Victoria had overtaken until she'd driven away Rachel, her friend from high school who had been battling detox at the time. It was then that she realized Victoria didn't care about her at all. She just wanted the company, and she would do anything to keep anyone she deemed a 'threat' away.
So Brooke fired her.
Somewhere along the way, after Nathan and Haley's accident and she'd moved back to New York with Jamie, she and Victoria had come to a kind of truce. Brooke knew she needed the help with the company now that she had Jamie to take care of. She also knew that, as resentful as she may be of her, Victoria was good at her job.
She'd been hired back on as a CEO, though her power in the company was greatly reduced. The fact that she now reported to Millicent was a fact Victoria loathed with a vengeance.
"Clarify for me, Victoria," Brooke said, leaning back in her chair.
"Please tell me that the frumpy little friend of yours that you mistakenly promoted to VP—I pray, at least—is in charge of the Milan deal. You remember? The multi-thousand dollar Milan deal."
Brooke smirked, shaking her head. "MILLICENT—who is not frumpy—is in charge of the Milan deal. She knows the briefs backwards, she knows the ropes, and she can do the job. There is a reason she is VP, despite what you might think. So no, it is not a joke, and before you ask, yes, I fully intend to let her go to Milan to ink the deal. Because, once again, she is the VP. FYI."
Victoria sighed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "I think we can do without the attitude, Brooke," she said, rolling her eyes as she sat down in the chair before Brooke's desk. "It truly doesn't matter what I think, because you are the boss, after all. I just wanted to double check and see if perhaps you'd come to a different conclusion. Which you haven't, obviously. So it's dropped." She leaned against the armrest, her hand tangling itself in her hand, and she frowned when she spotted the surprised look on Brooke's face. "What?"
"Nothing," Brooke said, shrugging. "Just a little surprised that you gave up so easily. Usually there's a ten minute screaming match before you storm out of my office and terrorize the interns."
"Oh, please, Brooke," Victoria said, rolling her eyes. "It's hardly something to have a screaming match over. You obviously trust what's-her-name with Milan, so there's really nothing I can do. And besides, there isn't a single intern that doesn't dive out of the way when they see me coming. Terrorizing is no fun if you can't catch them by surprise."
"Of course," Brooke mumbled, rolling her eyes, her lips tugging up into a smile. Every now and then, her mother surprised her.
"And how is your young ward? Jamie, that's his name, isn't it?"
"Yes…he's fine. It's a slow process, but he's getting better everyday, I think. You could come and meet him sometime, you know. He's a pretty permanent fixture in my life nowadays, after all."
Instead of answering, Victoria cleared her throat as she rose to her feet, her hands tugging down the jacket of her suit as she turned her back and headed towards the door. "Keep me posted about Milan," she said over her shoulder. "I'd like to be informed if the biggest deal of the month crashes and burns because of Muffy's incompetence."
And with that last comment, Victoria Davis shut the door behind her, her tall form strutting down the hallway.
Brooke shook her head as she watched her go.
And then there were moments where Brooke realized exactly why she was such a basketcase most of the time.
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"You realize that's the fourth time you've fluffed your hair?"
Brooke glared at Deb's reflection in the mirror, the older woman's grinning face seeming to grin even more with the action.
It was 6:15, and Brooke was standing in front of the floor length mirror in her bedroom, debating on the fourth outfit change of the night. Dinner at home wasn't nearly as fancy an occasion as dinner out, but date number 2 certainly wasn't a sweatpants and t-shirt ordeal, either. She'd finally decided on an off-the-shoulder blue top paired with a pair of dark denim jeans. Her feet were currently bare, the bright purple nail polish on her toes poking out from beneath the hem of her jeans. Now begged the question of how to wear her hair, a question that Deb Scott was finding quite amusing at the moment.
"I think you should wear it down," Jamie chimed in, his small frame sprawled across Brooke's bed as he watched her in the mirror, his tiny feet swaying in the air. "It's pretty when it's like that."
Brooke smiled at him from over her shoulder. "You do, huh?"
Jamie nodded. "It makes you look like you did in the picture of you and Aunt Peyton when you guys were in high school."
She laughed, gathering her hair up in her hands as she snagged a hair clip from the corner of the mirror. "Perfect, jailbait for the jailer," she muttered under her breath, looking up at Deb when she laughed.
"Oh, believe me, Brooke," she said, stepping into the room and taking a seat next to Jamie on the bed. "The last thing Don Flack thinks of when he looks at you is 'jailbait.' Wear it down. And for God's sake, would you please relax? You're making ME nervous with all your jittering. Everything is going to be fine."
"I know," Brooke said, shaking her hair out and letting it fall over her shoulders as she turned to face her. "It's just…" Her eyes drifted to Jamie, who's eyes were transfixed on the TV across the room, an old Looney Tunes rerun playing across the screen, before they settled again on Deb. "Don is the first real guy I've liked in…I don't know how long. I mean, he's sweet and charming and handsome and oh-so-sexy and…he's crazy about Jamie. I just…I don't know. I don't think I've ever wanted something to work so badly as I do this."
Deb smiled softly as she rose from the bed, crossing the small distance so she could wrap an arm around the younger girl's waist. "And it will. Detective Flack would be a complete idiot to not see what a catch you are. Obviously he's intrigued enough to suggest date number 2. And I can guarantee that there will be a date number 3, a date number 4, and so on and so on. Trust me on this, sweetie. The way Don looks at you…" She sighed, her face taking on a wistful smile. "Well…let's just say that it reminds me of the way a certain young man looked at the young woman that would be his wife until the day they died."
Brooke stared at her, torn between the anxiety she felt at Deb's comparison and sorrow at the mention of her two best friends.
She'd been inspired by the love Nathan and Haley shared, fantasizing about the day that she would find a bond like that. She thought, once upon a time, that she had with Lucas. Of course, now he was marrying Peyton.
It was crazy to think that Don Flack and she could possibly have what Naley did. They'd just met, after all. But still…that feeling she got in the pit of her stomach every time she even thought of him could overwhelm her.
Deb smiled, reaching out and stroking Brooke's hair gently. "Wear your hair down. Relax. Have fun." Her smile turned into a grin as she leaned forward, her eyes darting to ensure that Jamie's little ears weren't listening. "And, remember…no sex without safe sex."
Brooke snorted, reaching out and wrapping her hands around the woman she'd come to think of as somewhat of a mother—certainly a friend—and shook her head. "Way to ruin the moment, Deb."
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Don had arrived on time, a grin on his handsome face and a large, delicious smelling pizza box balanced in his hand.
Brooke couldn't help the way her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. He was dressed in a pair of blue jeans, a long sleeved white button up shirt that clung to his shoulders, his dark hair tousled from the wind blowing outside.
Don Flack was gorgeous.
Deb had excused herself shortly after Jamie had launched his small body at Don's legs. She'd slipped around them as she eyed Don crouching to talk to the boy, her eyes unabashedly taking in his backside and broad shoulders. She met Brooke's gaze, her eyes nearly rolling with unspoken lust, and Brooke sent her a warning glare as the older woman shimmied out the door with a grin.
Jamie had approved of the pizza, his young face scrunching up as he chewed slowly. Don had leaned against the table on his elbows, a smug expression on his rugged face as he'd glanced over at Brooke, who simply rolled her eyes and sipped her wine.
Now the two of them sat on the sofa, the half empty bottle of red wine sitting on the small coffee table next to them.
Brooke had gotten Jamie into bed without much of a hassle, mostly because he'd convinced Don to regale him with his tales of hockey as a kid. He'd settled under the covers after forcing Brooke to promise that he could get a hockey stick that weekend.
"If he knocks his teeth out, I'm completely blaming you," she'd said to Don softly as they'd made their way back to the living room. Don had chuckled, placing his hand on the small of her back as he followed her down the hallway.
She could still feel his touch burning even ten minutes later.
"Thank you for being so good to Jamie," Brooke said softly, her fingers fiddling with the wedding bands that hung from the delicate chain around her neck. Deb had given them to her after the funeral; a keepsake that she could save for Jamie when he grew up and got married. Until that time came, she was content keeping them around her neck, sliding them on and off her fingers whenever she got lost in thought. It made her feel as if Nathan and Haley were still with her.
She raised her eyes, smiling softly and shrugging when she met Don's gentle gaze. "A lot of people see Jamie and talk down to him just because he's a kid. He doesn't really get taken seriously very often. It means a lot to him that you don't talk to him like he's just a silly little boy."
Don grinned, shrugging. "It's my pleasure. Hell, I'm just a big kid when I think about it. Just because Jamie's little doesn't mean he shouldn't be treated the way everyone else is. He's a smart cookie."
"Well, he gets that from Haley," Brooke replied, nodding knowingly. "Tutor Girl is the smartest person I know." She faltered when she heard herself. "Well…knew." She chuckled softly, shrugging. "I catch myself doing that a lot still…referring to them like they're still here."
Don nodded, silent. He understood. He didn't know how many times since Angell died he referred to her in the present tense, or when, after a hard day, he went to pick up the phone and vent to her, only to hang up after the first ring when he remembered she wasn't there to answer. After twelve months, those instances were few and far between. But when they did happen, the sadness would cut through him like a knife.
"They'd be glad to see you doing such a good job with Jamie," he said, taking a sip of his wine before setting the glass on the table.
"Well, you weren't here for the first few weeks," Brooke laughed. "It seemed like everything that could go wrong did go wrong. I felt like Jamie hated me, and started thinking that Nathan and Haley made such a huge mistake, entrusting him to me…." She shrugged. "But then we got into the swing of things and I got a hang of the whole parenting thing…and now I can't imagine life without him around. He kind of just…makes sense, you know?" She raised her head, already feeling his steady gaze fixed on her, and she smiled self-consciously. "And once again, you're staring at me like I have two heads."
Don's lips twitched up into a half-smile, his blue eyes trailing over her face in near wonder. "Naw, nothing like that," he said softly, shaking his head. "You just…you amaze me, you know?"
Brooke tilted her head to the side, her face mixed with an expression of confusion and curiosity.
"I've seen a lot of orphaned kids in my time on the force. Way too many than I'd care to. And I can barely think of one time when a friend of the parents stepped up in the way that you have with Jamie. I mean, you altered your whole life for that kid…and you're not resentful of it at all. Most people would be." He smiled, reaching out a tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're pretty amazing, Brooke Davis."
Brooke felt her heart leap into her throat when his fingers grazed her cheek, and she smiled, kicking her eyebrow slightly. "Is this part of that whole sweet talk thing you promised earlier?" she teased. "If so, then stroking my ego is definitely the way to score points with me."
Don grinned, leaning forward and capturing her lips with his in a gentle, teasing kiss. He felt her sigh against his mouth, her hands reaching around his neck to tangle themselves in his hair. He cupped her cheek in his hand, his thumb tracing a light pattern on her soft skin as his other arm wrapped itself around her waist, pulling her closer.
He was amazed once again at just how well she fit against his chest.
His lips trailed down the side of her neck, feeling her laugh softly against his shoulder.
"And now we're to the touchy feely part," she whispered as she pressed her lips against his ear, sending shivers down his spine. "I like the way you think, Detective."
He smiled against her neck. "What can I say? It's the blue eyed, Irish charm."
Brooke laughed, shaking her head as she pulled back, pressing her lips against him in a quick kiss before she rose to her feet. She saw his eyebrows shoot up in curiosity, and she grinned, reaching out and taking his hand. She tugged, watching him rise to his full, towering height, and stood on the tips of her toes to kiss him deeply again. His arms wrapped around her waist as she walked them backwards towards the hallway, feeling his lips curve into a smile against her lips.
As they made their way to the bedroom at the end of the hall, their hands and lips exploring every inch of each other that they could, they both knew that everything was about to change.
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I love Don and Brooke. Like…really love them. They are becoming one of my favorite couples.
Hopefully you guys enjoyed this chapter! It's one of the longer ones I've written, and I'm thinking that I like it. Hope you guys did too!
Let me know what you all thought! Until next time, my friends!