1Let's Think About Me

Chapter 12 (wow, that's crazy) of this fic. Many thanks to LeoDiabla as always. And Killerkeanegirl, for giving me great feedback- of course I'd have a story on It's just the coolest place, other than our little love-nest over on InvisionFree. Not to be taken the wrong way.

Still contains spoilers! Beware if you haven't seen "On the Job." read and review please.

Please don't say I'm crazy. Please don't think it's my fault- I already know it is. Don't just stand there thinking about how stressed you are over this. Let's think about me, for crying out loud.

In her head, Arielle was screaming the words out, hoping they got through to her boss. But in reality, she was quiet. Her head was kept down, her eyes just catching Mac's lower jaw. She couldn't look him in the eye. It was like a smart-aleck kid mouthing off to his father.

"So..." Mac cleared his throat. Was it possible that he was uncomfortable, too? She sighed. Tis felt so damn unrealistic. Here she was, trying to account for what had happened to her nine years ago at the least, and he didn't even know what to say, resorting to small talk and "So"'s.

"Flack and Danny told me what had happened to you," he said quietly, interrupting her waltz with her thoughts. "I don't really know what to say other than... why hadn't you told anyone before?"

Arielle bit her bottom lip. Here was one she hadn't heard. Only, "what happened," "why didn't you yell," "go to counseling please..."

"I didn't want you guys to know that was the reason for my going into the force," she explained carefully. "It sounded so petty and vile to say I had been raped. So much like a self-help book."

"There's no doubt you think that way, Williamson," he answered. "But that didn't mean you had to lie. And what about when we asked you about your criminal record? Those files were hidden from me, and you never thought to bring them up."

"I had nothing to do with that. That was after I left that gang."

"They said you had to do with it."

"I was trying to keep them from going through with it," she replied as calmly as she could. "I stopped them just as they were going in. But then I stepped back. I let them make fools of themselves."

He looked at her. "That's a ways from saying you had nothing to do with it."

"I didn't kill anyone. I didn't hold up a store. They did, and they dragged my name in with them, made it mud... damn, I'm on tenterhooks already thinking I'm going to lose my job-"

"Why do you think that?"

"Well, I have a past, don't I? You'll probably fire and blacklist me, won't you?" Her voice started to shake, something she always did when she was nervous and hated about herself. Along with the 3 million other things wrong with me, she found time to think to herself.

Mac sighed and leaned back. "I'm not sure, Williamson. You're a good detective, one hell of a fact-finder... I'm not sure what to do with you. I'd hate to see you go."

She nodded, not trusting herself to say any more. He got up and started towards the door.

"Mac?"

He stopped. She swallowed and started again.

"What about Danny?"

He looked confused. "What about him?"

"You're not going to fire him, are you? Because he's one of the best you've got..."

"I know." He nodded. "I hired him myself. Picked him out from a long list. But whether he stays or goes depends on what he decides to say or not. Or whether he decides to take my advice."

He left her alone in the room, as full of questions as the reservoir in Central Park was full of water. She was more worried for Danny than for herself, as she felt in inside... she knew he wasn't taking Mac's advice. That was why he had taken off. She knew he'd blown it by making his statement- because she saw him head towards that office off the stairs. People only went in there when they saw or knew something. And Danny had both.

God damn it, Danny, what did you do?