"Don, this gentleman is here to speak with you."
He looked up from his work to see the precinct secretary, Stacy, walking a middle-aged man down the aisle towards him. The man wore a business suit, despite the heat of the day, and he carried a black briefcase in one hand and a file folder in the other. The folder he kept glancing at as he walked up the aisle towards Don. Having absolute strangers come into the precinct looking for him was nothing new, as it came with the territory, but Don had a bad feeling about this. He stood up and extended his hand to the man who was now standing before his desk as Stacy walked back up to hers.
The man hesitated for a fraction of a second before extending his hand in response. The shake was enthusiastic and the man, while beaming, looked surprised as well. Don's guard went up just a bit.
"Donald Flack Jr.?"
"Yes."
"I'm here for our two o'clock appointment."
His guard went up a tiny bit more. "Forgive me, but I don't recall expecting anyone at two o'clock." Don sat down and motioned for the man to do the same. The man placed his briefcase on the floor by his feet and the file folder on the desk in front of him. Don was a little unnerved to see his own name on the folder's tab.
The man looked around the crowded precinct and then turned back to smile at Don. He whispered across the desk, so as not to be overheard by those nearby, "I understand why you might feign ignorance at our meeting. I'm rather surprised you wanted to do it here in the open. From my experience, it might be better if we conduct this meeting in a more quiet place. Is there a room where we could move to?"
Don's guard didn't just increase a little moreāit went through the roof! Starting to get annoyed at this cryptic conversation, he leaned forward and folded his arms stiffly on the desktop. "Sir, we aren't going anywhere 'more quiet.' I suggest you tell me now who you are and what you're doing here." Don's raised voice was earning him concerned looks and more attention than he preferred at the moment. His eyes never wavered from the man sitting across from him. Don didn't gain a reputation around the precinct and the CSI lab as a strong-arm for nothing. His icy stare complete with well-honed patience had served him well and so it continued to do so. The man suddenly looked uncomfortable.
"My name is Ryan Henderson. I'm a consultant with the True Colors clinic from Jersey. You had left a message last night about setting up a consultation this afternoon, here at your place of employment. It was a rather unusual request, but you called this morning to verify the appointment time."
Don's mind swam in confusion. It was true that he had had a little to drink last night, but he hadn't been anywhere near drunk...had he? Whether or not he could verify that, he knew for sure he hadn't made any calls to any clinic in Jersey this morning. Rubbing his hand over his eyes as though to wipe the confusion away, he looked back up at Ryan. "Let's say that I did contact you. What was this consultation for?"
Don realized at once he had said the wrong thing. To Ryan's ears, it sounded like Don finally confessed to both the calls and the appointment. Casting a hasty eye around the room, he looked quizzically back at Don. "Are you sure you want to stay out here?"
Don wasn't sure of anything anymore, but he refused to be alone in a room with the man. Shaking his head vehemently, he motioned for the man to continue. Most of the eyes in the room had gone back to what they were doing, but a few kept sneaking sideways glances at Don and his visitor.
Keeping his voice low, Mr. Henderson continued. "For starters, you must understand I am only a consultant. I can give you an overview on the procedure and answer a few questions, but before we can get you started on the pre-operation medication and therapy, you will need to come in and meet with one of our licensed physicians." He slid the folder across the table to Don. Don stared at it for a second before picking it up. Physicians? Operations?! "The pamphlet on top gives basic information on the different procedures we offer as well as more detail about our facility. The packet underneath gives more detailed information about the specific procedure you had expressed interest in."
Even before he had opened the folder, a sinking feeling in his stomach gave him an idea of what he was going to find, and even who was responsible. Regardless of the fact that he felt he knew what to expect, he was still horrified when he pulled out the pamphlet. In bold letters across the front, it proclaimed, "True Colors: Mankind's Answer to Those Who Don't Feel at Home in Their Bodies." Don dropped the pamphlet and folder as though they had burned him. Messer!
::~*~::
Danny stepped off the elevator in Stella's wake, but veered off towards the break room. He had slept in significantly that morning, but being dragged all over the furniture store had taken its toll and he was ready for a nap. He mentally chastised himself for getting so soft. Naps were a luxury he couldn't really afford. Suppressing a yawn, he shrugged it off. He had two hours until his shift started, and nothing better to do. Yeah, he could have started early, but he really didn't want to. He was on the graveyard shift as it was.
Approaching the break room, he could see Adam sitting at one of the tables with his back to the door. Poor kid, Danny thought. Ever since that embarrassing moment when Adam had caught Danny in the locker room, he had been quite visibly terrified to be in company with Danny since. Danny remembered a time a few nights before when Adam had been working in the trace lab late at night. Danny had come in to run some tests of his own. It had taken Adam five minutes before he had realized he was alone in the room with Danny. Danny suppressed a smile as he remembered how fast Adam had packed up and bolted from the room.
Opening the door, he strolled into the room, getting the desired response from Adam. He jumped off his chair and turned on his heels, preparing to make his escape. Unfortunately, neither he nor Danny had planned on another individual entering the room right after him. Adam bowled right into Mac and, upon realizing who it was, registered a look of horror upon his face. Stammering an apology, he sidestepped Mac and ran out the door.
Mac looked after him, dumbstruck, before turning back to Danny who had collapsed on the couch. "I'm a little worried about Adam. His performance isn't suffering at all, but he looks like he's been on edge lately. Has he talked to you at all?"
On the contrary, he hasn't said a word to me in over a week. "He hasn't said anything to me. Do you want me to find out what's going on?"
Mac seemed to consider the thought for a moment, before shaking his head. "He's got a three day weekend coming up for him. If he's not back to himself when he comes back, I'll talk to him then. I actually came in here for another purpose." He sat down in one of the plastic chairs clustered around the nearest lunch table. "I was rather surprised to see you already here, but I was informed by Stella that some furniture shopping you had been doing with her ran a little long and she didn't have time to take you back to Don's. I know your shift starts in two hours, but I was hoping you would be able to start now. Our team is stretched pretty thin at the moment and two more calls just came in. One more CSI at either scene would make things a bit easier for the team."
Danny looked longingly at the couch he was sitting on, but knew that he was going to say "yes." Mac had overlapped some time off for him with Adam still being off on Sunday, just so Danny could move into his apartment. Additionally, Mac had given Danny the morning off on Saturday so he could get started on the move. Basically, Mac had done everything in his power to make this move as easy as possible for Danny, and Danny knew that Aiden, Stella, and Mac himself were picking up the slack. In all fairness, Danny couldn't consciously say "no."
"Sure, boss. Where do you want me to go?"
Mac was saved from answering by Stella bursting through the door. "Hey, Mac! The DB in the Park? It's Senator Kiley's son. Chief Sinclair is blowing up my cell trying to find you to get some answers. We need to get over there now before Sinclair has a hernia." Without waiting for a response she hurried through the door and sprinted towards her office.
Mac swore before getting to his feet. He called over his shoulder towards Danny as he left the room, "Broadway and 36th. Luigi's Pizza Parlour. I'll have Don meet you there."
Danny had started following Mac but stopped dead in his tracks. About to protest to Don's presence, he started to call after Mac, but Mac was already out the door and hurrying to his own office, already on the phone with Sinclair.
Suck it up, Messer! Don's not going to try anything while on scene.
::~*~::
Don was interviewing a witness outside the parlour when Danny pulled up. It took a great deal of effort to not grin like an idiot, especially while interviewing a distraught witness. Don had learned long ago that there were some cases he could emotionally distance himself from and others that beat against his ribcage, seeking entrance to his heart. This was one of the former times.
Don had left the precinct fuming shortly after getting rid of Mr. Henderson. He had felt that if he were forced to stay inside, amongst the whispers and looks of his colleagues, he'd probably shoot someone. Quickly fleeing the building, the fresh air had immediately done him some good and started clearing his mind. Pacing up and down the walk in front of the precinct, he had soon formulated the beginnings of a plan.
::~*~::
The coroner was carefully loading the body into the back of the van when Don walked up to Danny who was placing the last of his filled evidence bags into his kit.
"I gotta hand it to you, buddy. That was some joke on your part."
Danny slowly lowered and secured the lid of his kit before looking warily up at the tall detective standing over him. Slowly getting to his feet, he decided to play it cool. "You would make a pretty hot woman. I just thought I would give a gentle nudge in the right direction."
Don gave a low whistle. "'Gentle nudge,' eh?"
They started walking over to Danny's vehicle, keeping pretty quiet. Danny didn't know how to respond to Don's last comment. Was Don baiting him for another prank or was he quietly fuming, waiting to attack at the right moment? Something had to be coming, otherwise Don would have taken off in his own car already instead of following Danny to his. It wasn't until Danny had put the kit in the backseat and opened the driver's door that Don spoke again.
"This whole prank war we've had going on, it's been fun. It gave me a taste of what it might have been like going to college and doing the whole frat thing with a bunch of guys."
"Yeah," Danny said, not sure where this was going. He really hoped Don wasn't getting emotional on him. An angry Don he could deal with, as terrifying as he could be, but not an emotional one.
"What do you say we call a truce? Laugh at all the memories we've created. As much as we say it won't, it's only a matter of time before it starts interrupting our work and then we'll really be in trouble. Should we call it?"
Danny was stunned. Everything Don had said was true, but he felt like the guy was giving up too easily, especially after he had just been humiliated in front of many of his colleagues only a couple of hours earlier. On the other hand, the stress of constantly being on the alert had long since taken its toll on him and he was actually tempted by the sound of truce.
"Seriously?"
"Absolutely. From this moment forward, no more pranks."
The two men shook hands firmly, sealing the deal.
