Sweet The Summer Day
AN: -shrug- 'cause I wanted to write a closure scene for Aiden and Danny without going over the top. These guys were close coworkers, not lovers (something people seem to forget when writing along similar lines). Doesn't mean it can't be a little angsty, a little sweet. Just means that they shouldn't be professing undieing love for each other quite yet. Oh, and I would seriously suggest drinking vanilla coke and listening to Regina Spektor's 'Somedays' whilst reading this, if at all possible.
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They come in all quiet,
Sweep up and then they leave,
And you don't hear a single floor board creak,
They're so much stronger,
Than the friends you try to keep,
By your side,
Downtown, Downtown,
I'm not here, not anymore,
I've gone away,
Don't call me, don't write.
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Hair lank in the summer heat, bitten-apart sneakers propped on the sea-front wall, sipping vanilla coke from a bottle with a straw. The sunshine on her nose turning it red, bringing freckles to the surface. Her old, green linen shirt (unironed) open to reveal that she's wearing dungarees and a tank top beneath it.
"What made you do it, Aiden?"
"I didn't." Sip, sip, sip.
"What made you almost do it?"
"Whaddaya think?" Sip, sip, sip – pause – smirk – the blue shifting horizon, bringing a cool breeze in off the ocean. The sound of a ferry horn a little further out. "You wanna tell me how stupid I was, too? Cause, you know, I haven't heard it from about a million other people already."
"You were stupid, Aiden."
"Yup." Sip, sip – smirk – sip.
"You coulda talked to me."
"It was personal, Danny boy. I didn't wanna drag you in."
"You wouldna dragged me anywhere. I woulda helped you catch the bastard."
"I thought we already covered that I was stupid?"
Silence. She's good at killing conversation off, these days. Quiet, reflective cynicism has become something of a refuge for her. Danny eyes her warily. He's wondering if he ever really knew Aiden Burn before today. Glasses slipping with the perspiration, he thrusts them back up with a well-practised thumb and shrugs off his jacket, begins rolling up his sleeves.
"Isn't the same without you."
Smirk. Sip, sip, sip. "Do ya miss me, Danny Messer?"
"Days come when I wish you were still around, yeah." Hand through his hair, feeling the sweat there, he grimaces.
A glance, for the first time, his way, she chews her straw, nose wrinkles. "Cute, Messer, real cute."
He laughs, but can't stop it sounding bitter. He misses the flirting. Lindsay tends not to want to play. Aiden loved to banter.
Sip, "Is she nice?" sip, sip.
"Huh?"
"The new girl. She nice?" sip.
He pauses, thinks, shrugs, "she's hot."
She throws her head back and laughs, coughing up sickly brown liquid as she does so, covering her mouth, tossing dark curls so that they spring in surprise, suddenly alive in the moist summer air. It makes him smile too. He knows he's being exactly as she'll remember him.
"You tell her to treat my Danny boy good, 'kay?" She recovers, still shuddering with unshed laughter.
"I'll try to remember," he smirks.
Sip, sip, sip. The fumes from a New York summer afternoon still hanging in the air, with the smell of sweat and a polluted ocean. It makes her smile, lifting sneakered feet off the wall to swing them idly, kicking heals into the concrete sidewalk. He's gonna miss his Burnie baby girl.
"What's her name?" Sip, sip, sip, shielding eyes against the glare of the sun on shimmering blue.
"Uh… Monroe. Lindsay Monroe."
"Nice. Never heard of her."
"Ah – she's okay." Thumb to the glasses slipping again.
"And hot. I hear that's important." Sip – smirk – sip.
"Shut up."
Smirk. Sip, sip, sip. Pursing her lips to draw a little more liquid from the bottle. He's thirsty.
"Can I have some of that?"
"Not too much. I gotta make it last. No money coming in now, remember?"
He tries not to take her too seriously.
Vanilla's too sweet for his liking, makes the whole thing unbearably sticky in the swimming summer sunshine, but it's cool, too, and if he tries he can hardly taste it – takes just enough to sooth the insistent burning in the back of his throat, hands the bottle back.
"I dunno why you like that stuff."
She fits the straw back into her mouth, smiles around it, sips again, "I like the stuff that's worst for me."
He tries not to take that seriously either.
"What're you gonna do, Aiden?"
She shrugs, "my brother owns a bar. Said I could serve drinks for him."
"You gotta be kidding me."
"Just for a while – till I work some stuff out. I dunno what I want anymore, Danny." Sip, sip, sip – her brows knit together as she contemplates the endless horizon.
He considers for her, "you could teach."
She laughs, "you wanna see me handling teenagers?"
"At a college then. Lecture."
"There's no way I'd ever be organised enough."
"When was the last time you met an organised college lecturer?"
She laughs again, "gimme a break, Messer."
He considers that, as well. She could go abroad – but he doesn't want to say it out loud. He wants to stay friends with Aiden Burn. Wants to keep her close. That's gonna be hard, now she's gone and gotten herself fired. There aren't enough excuses left to spend time with her without people starting to assume things he doesn't want them assuming. He knows there were enough rumours flying around the department about them, particularly her (and still are) without him pushing them any further by insisting on maintaining the relationship out of work. God, what basis do they havebeyond that framework? He only likes the rumours he's in control of.
"Friendship's a scary thing, huh Messer?" Sip, sip – knowing grin – she's drawn one leg up under her, turning to face him a little.
"Huh?"
"People never know what to do with it. You gotta be sleeping with the girl, or they don't get it." She knows everything, does his Burnie baby girl. Always has.
"No, they don't." Thumb to glasses.
"You're not the sort to let talk like that get to you, are you Danny?" Sip, smirk, sip. "Not that you wouldn't want to sleep with the girl."
His turn to laugh, squirm out from the awkwardness of that statement, to relax, because it's Aiden, and he likes her. "You're a piece of work, Burn."
"Wouldn't be in this mess if I wasn't." Sip, sip, sip, blunt edged smile.
His beeper goes off, "damn it," he grabs his coat, digs through the pockets a little frantically, makes her smile because this isn't her job anymore.
"Guess you gotta go back to saving the world, Messer."
"Something like that-" he glasses slip and he curses, hearing them crack on the sidewalk. Aiden grabs them and wipes dust off with her sleeve as he finally finds the paging device. She keeps hold of the bottle with her free hand.
"They're not broken."
"Good – that's good – " he's distracted, squinting at the name on the pager. His phone starts to ring. He moans.
Aiden deftly tips his glasses back onto his nose for him, as he answers the phone, "yeah?" Too caught in the moment to be surprised at her sudden lack of personal boundaries. He adjusts them carefully. She managed not to poke his eyes out, which is nice.
"Messer, where are you?" Lindsay sounding flustered, her voice tinny and tiny in his ear.
"I had a lunch date – " Aiden snorts " – what's going on?"
"I just paged you –"
"Yeah, I got it –"
"Well, you gotta get down here right now. We got a three car pile up, there's gas leaking everywhere, the whole thing could go up any time, means we have to start processing now or we'll lose the whole crime scene."
"Okay, okay, I'm on my way," he stands, tugs his jacket on, doesn't bother to role his sleeves down first, feels the material bunch up uncomfortably inside. Sweat clings, cold and clammy, to his back. "I gotta go," he states, unnecessarily.
Aiden roles her eyes, still sipping, "I figured."
"Who're you talking to?" Lindsay, sounding amused, because he's forgotten to hang up.
"I coming over," he hangs up, knowing he's just laid himself open to all number of teasing accusations from his co-worker. He likes Lindsay. She's kinda hot.
Sip, sip, sip, "see ya around then, huh?" gentle smile under her thoughtful gaze. It occurs to him that this may be the last time he sees her in a long while. It would be easy to let it go down like that.
"I'll see you soon, Aiden," breathed like a promise.
"Sure." Sip, sip, sip.
"You take care of yourself, okay? Be careful."
"I'm a big girl, Messer. Look at me all grown up in the real world now." Smirk around the straw, "now get. Sounds like somebody needs you."
Thumb to his glasses, hand through his hair, he yanks his jacket straight, "call me."
"Promise."
He's already walking away, backwards, to watch her still grinning over the back of the bench, "you be nice to Lindsay Munroe, Danny. You be nice to her for me, you hear? Treat her right. And you tell her to take care of you."
He holds out his forefingers, thumbs-up, like a little kid pretending to be a cowboy, winks, "will do."
"Go on!" She dismisses him with one hand, watches as he turns and runs for his car.
Alone, she settles back into her original position, gazing out at the harbour, sips slowly, cool, sweet liquid trickling down her throat, the summer heat still thick about her.
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Downtown, Downtown,
I'm not here, not anymore,
I've gone away,
Don't call me, don't write,
I've gone away,
Don't call me, don't write,
Somedays aren't yours at all,
They come and go,
As if they're someone else's days,
They come and leave you behind someone else's face,
And it's harsher than yours,
And it's colder than yours...
-Regina Spektor 'Somedays'
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Disclaimer: Don't own characters or song. Not making any money.