Think, Don, think! I internally scream at myself. But honestly, how do you answer that kind of question? There seems to be no logical response and my brain has decided to cut out on me when I must need it.
"Uh..." That is not an answer. It isn't even a word! Danny's looking at me expectantly and I know he wants some type of reply.I consider lying to him. Y'know, laugh it off, say it was a joke. I know it's wrong, but it might save both of us some trouble. Maybe. But Danny's smart (he's a CSI, for chrissake), and then there's this morning to consider. God, a blind man could see that this is no joke. Danny'd just probably call me on the lie and then he would probably get angry with me and I really don't want that. Nope, only thing I'm left with is the truth. Which is most likely a good thing. At least I can get it out there. No more hiding.
I take a long sip of my drink, contemplating my words. I can't be too rash or blunt, can I? But if I'm too careful with my words, it might seem like I'm unsure of how I feel, and I know exactly I feel. Known for a long time. Plus, I think I might have to save up all my discretion for the poor lady whose world we're gonna turn upside down. For the second time, no less.
"Danny, look, I--"
Danny interrupts me. "Or, y'know what? I know you think my ass is fine-- you wouldn't have blurted it out if you didn't. Maybe I should ask for how long you thought so instead."
"Danny, look, for a while, ok?" I take a deep breath and hold it for a second before letting it out slowly. "I think you're hot, alright? Have for a while now. Just... didn't know how to tell ya."
Danny's quiet for a minute. "Ok," is all he says when he does speak. And then there's silence. Is that it? I got all worked up over that? Was all he wanted to hear that I was hot for him? Because that... that's kind of weird for Danny to just drop something like that. Shit. What if he thinks I just want him for a lay? 'Cause that's not it.
"Danny," I glance at him, making sure I have his attention before I start again. "I mean, look. It's, it's more than that. I mean, yeah, you're hot. But you're smart, too. And a good friend. A great friend. And I don't... I don't want it to be just a one time thing." Yeah, the cool and collected Detective Flack, babbling like a teenage boy with his first crush. Great. "I mean, I like you. Y'know, really--"
"Flack." I glance at Danny, and I can just tell that he knows that I'm all keyed up over this. "I know." Quietly spoken, but it's enough to calm me down. And the soft, small smile that he gives me after he says it makes me tingle inside. I can't help but smile, too, eyes now back on the rode, as I turnoff onto the exit for Albany.
I don't think we're finished yet, but it's a start.
By the time we get to the outer limits of Albany, it's already 6:15. I'm not too thrilled with the idea of going to break the bad news to the widow just yet, so when Danny suggests that we wait until tomorrow, I'm totally on board with it. He calls Mac and tells him that we're going to wait until then (I can just imagine Mac trying to rationalize with himself about how it is kind of late and that we've just driven over 5 hours and need food and rest. I can also imagine it not working and Mac being in a surly mood come morning). Danny hangs up and rolls his eyes. Apparently, my imagination was right.
We manage to find a decent hotel (nothing expensive or anything-- I don't want to make Mac any angrier) and check in. Our room is one the third floor, so we ride the elevator up, our bags slung over our backs. I reach the door first and whip out a keycard. God, I hate those things. I can never get them to work. After two failed attempts, I fling my bag onto the floor next to the door. One hand on the door handle, one hand slipping the keycard into the slot and... push open the door.
Or not. "Goddammit."
I hear Danny snicker behind me. I turn around and raise an eyebrow. He extends his hand and I give him the keycard and step aside. He goes up the door and...
It opens. Bastard.
He turns to me with the smug smile. I throw him a glare as I pick up my bag and enter the room behind him. It just makes him laugh.
"I just don't want to explain to Mac he has to pay for a hotel door that you shot."
"I wouldn't have shot it!" I retort. We both know that's probably a lie.
No expensive hotel means no room service. So Danny and I go out for dinner (Danny makes sure he has the keycard to get back in. Smartass).
Dinner's unnaturally quiet and it kind of freaks me out. I don't exactly know what to say (I've never been in a situation like this before) and instead of butterflies in my stomach, it feels like I have fuckin' pelicans. But it's comforting to know that I'm not the only one who's nervous. Under the table, Danny's leg is bouncing like crazy with all the pent up energy from nervousness or anxiousness, or whatever it is, I'm not quite sure.
One thing I am sure of, though, is the effect being around Danny now. Everytime his leg or foot brushes mine, anytime his fingers accidentally skim over my hand when he reaches for something, it's hard to suppress the shudder that runs through me. Each time, he looks up and smiles, that soft one from earlier when we were in the car and I know I answer with one of my own and Goddammit, am I blushing? Oh hell no, Don Flack does not blush. Except apparently I do and it makes Danny smile even more. He's looking at me like I'm one of the cutest, hottest, and most puzzling thing he's ever seen mixed together and I swear, I must look like a lobster now.
Thanks, asshole.
Danny opens the door with the keycard and steps into the room first, not bothering with the lights. I turn to shut the door and when I turn around, he's right there. Standing directly in front of me and even in the dark, I can see his blue eyes sparkling. We just... hover for a moment, staring into each others eyes and if this were a bad romance film, the music would start to swell and declarations of love would be made.
The moment's ended and suddenly I'm up against the door, Danny's lips covering mine in a scorching kiss.
