1 It Makes Me Want To Lose My Mind

Chapter 4 of this fic. Please review people! I thank LeoDiabla for her wonderful reviews and encouragement. This chapter focuses on the triangle of three- Danny, Flack and Arielle.

"Arielle-"

Danny heard him call her name, saw him walk up to her, kiss her gently. A jealous anger rose in him at the thought- a woman he loved, in the arms of the man who worked with them both. He knew that was what it was- he was in love with Arielle, who gave no consideration. She had such a look of longing in her amazing hazel eyes... why couldn't she look at Danny that way?

"Hey, Danny," she called, "did you get that ballistics report back yet, on that homicide?"

He snapped out of his thoughts into her beautiful face, suddenly feeling ashamed. "No," he answered. "It should be coming back in another hour."

"Okay," she smiled. That smile... along with those eyes... he wished he could drown in them both, lose himself and die happy... if that was the only thing Arielle could give him, it was that. She turned and went back to her station, doing her lab work... it was amazing what she could do, both with her hands and her brain.

She wasn't perfect, he knew that. She was messy at heart, and clumsy at times, and she couldn't really hold much liquor. But he overlooked all of that when she smiled. When she laughed. When she walked with that graceful yet wary gait of hers... before she nearly tripped someone with her long dancer's legs. She was something, that girl. That woman.

Flack looked at Arielle, noting that she was so careful when she did her lab work. Her hands moved in a precise, calm manner, lithe, artistic-looking hands... just as beautiful as every other bit of her. But right now she was upset at him, because earlier he had said something he didn't mean... damn, did he always have to blow it? Especially with someone so gorgeous, so precious... so wonderful to him? He turned and walked away.

Later that night, Danny caught Arielle sitting at a bar on the Upper East Side. She had a glass of scotch in her hand, on the rocks. She looked as though she had had a few. Her eyes were clouded, and she was a bit wobbly.

"Hey, Messer," she slurred. "Want to join me? Come on, have some fun with me-"

She nearly fell, and he steadied her, putting her drink on the counter. "No, that's okay," he answered. "Come on, let's go."

"No, I want to stay here, drink myself to sleep," she insisted, sitting back down.

"You're doing great at that. But don't you want to sleep in your own bed?"

"Yeah," she replied, gazing at him with those drunk eyes that still made her beautiful, yet made her lose all of her dignity. "Okay, Messer..."

She clumsily stepped out with him, stumbling and giggling like a little girl. "I'm wasted, aren't I?" she asked him, holding his hand to keep herself up.

"Yeah, you are, very much so," Danny answered, his eyes twinkling. He couldn't help it- as much as it was wrong, she looked so cute when she was tipsy. She fell against him, and they tipped back onto a wall of a building on an empty street, laughing.

"Sorry, Danny," she apologized. Then it happened. She reached up and met his lips with hers. It was short, and tasted like alcohol, but it had happened. Danny had never been more surprised in his life. Then she did it again, unconsciously, unfocused.

Breaking off, she said, "You... you have beautiful eyes, Danny." Then she was out.