No excuses. I just suck. Forgive me. Enjoy:
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CLINK CLINK CLINK. Stella tapped her fork against her champagne glass to get everyone's attention. "Toast time, people!"
"This'll be short, because otherwise I'll tear up and I don't want to ruin my make-up. And besides, I think Donnie is chomping at the bit to give HIS toast. I'd be worried, Dan," she winked.
"Oh, I am," Danny called out as he scowled at Flack.
"We all love Danny and Lindsay, that's why we're here. And instead of telling them how much we love them, I have something to give the bride and groom on behalf of the NYPD and the crime lab. Now we know we were supposed to donate money to the canine unit to buy vests and fund their little doggy retirements… but as most of us already give to that anyway, we decided to all chip in for your 'nest egg.'" She nodded to Hawkes, who proudly produced a giant check from under the table and handed it to a stunned Lindsay. "This way you can bump the baby timetable up a bit. You two have to start on that brood of little ones so we can all spoil the hell out of them." She grinned broadly. "To quote a certain detective, 'start with the spawning already!'" Everybody laughed, especially after Flack raised his hand to take credit for the quip.
"Let me tell you, it wasn't hard to collect money, even from people outside the lab," Stella continued. "Not because everybody loves you both because frankly Danny, you're hardly the most popular person in the NYPD… especially among certain departments who shall not be named on such a happy day." She winked again at the young cop who had made waves with IA so many times. "Once we let people know what you two could potentially bring into the world, people who don't even know you felt inspired to chip in." Quick as lightning, Hawkes withdrew an easel from beneath the table and unfolded it, then pulled out a giant picture. It featured two computer-generated faces: a young man and a young woman. "Gorgeous, aren't they? This is what your kids might look like."
They were gorgeous- the male had his mother's face but with his father's eyes while the girl had Danny's smile and light hair with Lindsay's beautiful dark eyes. "Isn't technology wonderful? And these are viable possibilities, genetically speaking. Linds, obviously your eyes and hair are dominant but I checked out your family and you have recessive traits for blue eyes and blonde hair from your mother. Anyway, it wasn't hard to convince people that their contributions would help the greater good and all of humanity- you two are going to have works of art! Anyway, we just can't wait three years for you to have such good-looking children. So hopefully this check will speed things along. Congratulations you two." She lifted her glass. "To Danny and Lindsay and their beautiful offspring!"
Stella smiled at her newly-wed friends as everybody toasted the shocked couple. She'd collected more money than she'd ever imagined. Of course, anytime an envelope works its way around the NYPD, collecting money for retirements or whatever, a lot of people stuff a few bucks in without even knowing what they're contributing to. Still, many people had willingly given generously for this specific cause. Mac alone had contributed quite a big chunk of change all by himself. "No sense in me just saving all my money, Stella," he'd told her as he'd handed her a check and sworn her to secrecy. "I'll never have children. Hell, I'll probably never retire." As much as Stella wanted to argue with him, she knew he was right- despite Peyton's influence Mac was still too devoted to/obsessed with his job to have a family. As were many of her coworkers, for that matter. Which is why so many people were willing to chip in to the Messer Baby Fund, even those who didn't know the couple very well. The hours that the Crime Lab demanded made personal lives tricky- for starters, it was difficult to meet people (well, people who weren't criminals) and if somehow you did meet somebody, it was usually hard to hold onto them. So a lot of the CSIs and techs had just accepted their single status (though a few dared to hope that they too would find true love with a coworker) and were hoping to vicariously parent through Danny and Lindsay.
Stella's grin widened as visions of little NYPD onesies filled her head.
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Danny eyed his big friend nervously. He'd been happily surprised by Stella's speech, but he doubted that any 'surprises' Flack had up his sleeve would make him happy…Flack caught Danny's wary look and grinned evilly at the groom before standing.
"First of all, let me say I'm happy for Danny and Lindsay and I wish them the best of luck. But I gotta tell you something…part of me is seriously thinking that the NYPD oughta rethink its policy about fraternization within the ranks, 'cuz I think it's gonna bring down the whole force….Let me explain!" he added as he looked out onto a room of rolled eyes. "I mean, these two are still great investigators but this whole mushy love/getting married thing has made them soft, in my not-so-humble opinion. They used to be a pair of real bad-asses, pardon my language. Now they're nothing more than fluffy shells of their former tough selves. Which is a DAMN shame."
"I mean, take Lindsay here. She used to be one tough little cookie- tackling guys on her very first day, eating fried bugs, sweatin' perps in the interrogation room…and she carries a knife. She taught me that country girls are not to be messed with. And hey, moving to NYC from cowpoke land is a sign of strength in my book. Plus, back when she first moved here I heard this girl- who's what, 5 foot nothing and weighs 50 lbs?- heckle the ENTIRE New York sports franchise-we're talking every single team- …in a sports bar…in New York. If that's not badass, I dunno what is."
"And Danny Messer…Danny the cocky, so-called 'street smart' city guy. Danny who was this close to being a hooligan as a kid- don't worry, Monroe family- the only thing he ever got in trouble for was graffiti. By the way, man, 'Danny-gerous' is the worst tag name I have EVER heard… But Messer of the loud mouth and quick temper, Mr. 'Hell YEAH I'll leap across alleyways and tackle guys on moving motorcycles to make an arrest' has gone soft on me! I'm not just saying this- I've done some investigating," he added as he pulled out his detectives' notebook from the inside pocket of his tux and held it up in the air, causing people to chuckle. "And I swear it's the truth. Allow me to build my case."
He flipped the notebook open. "Here are just a few of the nicknames they've been overheard calling each other- oh this goes way beyond Montana, people. Ahem: baby, babe, cowboy, sweetie, honey, darling, mi amor, tiger, princess, cupcake, muffin, honey bunny…" As the list went on it got cheesier and more outrageous and people starting laughing harder and harder and the newlyweds turned redder and redder "…angel, sweet baboo, cutie patootie, pookie, schmoopy, ladybug, snickerdoodle, Dannybear, and last but not least snugglewumpkins." Flack shook his head in amazement. "Dannybear and snugglewumpkins from what used to be two hardboiled CSIs! It's a damn shame. But, unfortunately, the problem goes much deeper." He strode over to where Danny and Lindsay were sitting and paced back and forth behind them for a while, then suddenly slammed the table in front of Lindsay with his fist, causing her to jump.
"Mrs. Messer! Isn't it true that you, a born and raised Broncos fan, now root for the Giants because that's Danny's team?"
"No!" cried Joe sadly as Lindsay nodded her head. She at least had the presence of mind to look a little ashamed.
"And Mr. Messer- isn't it also true that you, of your own free will, have attended the ballet and the opera? And that you skipped seeing a St. John's basketball game- if you remember, that's your alma mater-to take Lindsay to see 'Phantom of the Opera'? A playoff game, in fact?" Danny just crossed his arms and shrugged as his college buddies hissed at the memory of him committing such an egregious taboo.
"Lindsay, reliable sources tell me that you've confessed to staying off the expert trails when going skiing these days because they 'make Danny worry so much about you getting hurt.' What do you have to say for yourself?" Lindsay just laughed, her face a little red with embarrassment. "Oh you think that's funny? I think it's sad- just one more sign that you're not nearly as tough as you used to be and it's all Danny's fault.
"And Danny here doesn't do nearly as many stupid stunts at work because he knows that you worry- just last week he balked at jumping across a gap between rooftops when he was pursuing a suspect. It wasonly a 10 foot gap over a measly 8 stories. The old Messer would have done it." Danny muttered something. "Hey, I didn't jump because I've always left that crazy stuff to you! You're just lucky that we had some rookies with us who were eager to prove themselves. Love has made you weak, bud. You actually consider the possibility that you might get hurt or die before you do stuff these days. Daniel Messer, using his head? No longer operating solely on impulse? A damn shame."
Flack went back to his seat and started to sit, then got back up and headed back over to the couple. "There was just one more thing…" Danny looked up at him suspiciously- the Columbo reference was not lost on him. "Swing dance classes?!?! Are you freakin' KIDDING me?!? What the HELL happened to you, Messer?!?" Everybody started laughing loudly as Danny paled and turned to Lindsay with a pained expression. "Hey, don't blame her, man. She didn't tell a soul. You two try to leave early on Tuesdays and you always get this look of sheer dread whenever anybody asks where you're headed. And I know a bullshit excuse when I hear one. So I tailed you one night. They're pretty good, actually," he informed the flabbergasted crowd. Hawkes looked like you could knock him over with a feather and even the unflappable Mac Taylor seemed surprised: Danny, who had challenged an outranking officer to a fight, who had been written up for mouthing off his superiors more than once, who was notorious for bending rules that shouldn't be bent, took dance classes?
People were laughing harder now, especially after Danny turned even redder and had slowly slid under the table to hide. Flack just spread his arms wide and made a face that read 'Am I good or what?' Messer'll will probably try to kill me now, but it was worth it! He proudly took his seat and buffed his fingernails against his shirt.
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When Danny didn't reemerge after a minute, Lindsay joined him.
"It's not THAT bad, honey," she said reassuringly.
"In what universe is this 'not that bad'? My reputation is ruined! Flack is right- I have gone soft! And now everybody knows!" He groaned and buried his face in his hands. He was murmuring to himself and hard to understand, but Lindsay did catch the words "twinkletoes" and "sissy."
"Danny Messer, stop being such a drama queen. You're an investigator: what's one of the facts of life that we run into time and time again? People will do crazy, out-of-character things when they're in love. Everybody out there knows that. You haven't gone soft and neither have I. We've… evolved. Improved., even. I don't think that you being a little more cautious is going to make you bad at your job- it's usually a good thing when a CSI uses his head. I couldn't always do the thinking for both of us, babe." Danny's head jerked up to scowl at his smart-ass wife. Lindsay stuck her tongue out at him and gave him a brief peck on the lips.
"Anyway, don't worry about it," she continued. "Odds are they'll only be laughing about this for another two weeks and fortunately, we're headed to Europe tomorrow so we won't even be around for it! So buck up, cowboy. You'll live. And remember, after your bachelor party people know a lot of other things about our relationship-things that could hardly be considered threats to your masculinity." She cocked an eyebrow at him and was rewarded with a small smile from her new husband. Which quickly turned into a glower.
"I'm still gonna KILL Flack!" Danny growled.
"If you kill him, you can't get revenge," she pointed out.
"Oh, I dunno, choppin' him into itty bitty pieces and then throwin' the pieces in the Hudson would be revenge enough for me."
"But it probably wouldn't feel as good as mortifying him. First of all, for all his bragging about being a Casanova, one day Don'll probably get married and you get to give HIS toast. Second, you're Danny Messer: you're great at planning pranks. And I'll help- between the two of us we should be able to come up with an appropriately awful punishment for Donny. Two CSIs against one detective- he doesn't stand a chance. How's that sound?"
The wicked grin she knew and loved was back. They both climbed back into their seats…well, after a few more minutes anyway.
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Ok, some excuses. The main one being writer's block, the second one being I stopped watching CSI:NY for a while. I got fed up with the stunts. I still think Carmine is sex on legs but I just couldn't take the mediocrity anymore (as well as an appalling lack of Flack). So I'll confess I was just going to abandon this story. But then I started reading FF again and I was getting REALLY annoyed with people who weren't updating. And I knew it would be hypocritical as HELL to ask them to finish their stories when I left so many people hanging. You should all be happy I have a highly attuned sense of guilt, because it's why I'm updating finally!
There's not much more to come- just the rest of the wedding and the wedding night (woot!). I also have ideas for frolicking through Europe. I still won't update as prompt as I'd like but I swear on all that I hold dear I won't leave this story as a stray…
Basically, what I'm saying is you all need to have (wait for it, wait for it) PATIENCE.
I crack myself up.