To DD or Not to DD
Fandom: CSI:NY
Author: Kimmychu
Rating: FRM (it may go up later)
Pairing: Danny/Flack, Danny/Mac
Content Warning: Cracktasticness, odd body changes, language. Did I mention cracktasticness?
Spoilers: Set after 'Fair Game', so spoilers for any episode previous to that
Summary: After a freak laboratory accident at CSI headquarters, Danny is cursed (or blessed, depending on how you see things) with very unusual … add-ons. Inspired by a forum comment: "Danny is the show's DD breasts."
Disclaimer: Nope, none of the characters belong to me. What a shame. I would treat them oh so well. They have no idea what they're missing.
Chapter 3
Danny was touched by all the 'Get Well Soon' cards and gifts he received from his co-workers at CSI headquarters. He got a surprise card from Mac, with a written message telling him he had a week off once he got out of the hospital. It also said Mac looked forward to him getting back on his feet and seeing him at work, which made his chest feel warm in a sunny way. Hawkes, who cut his vacation short after hearing what happened, personally came to visit him at the hospital and played chess with him. Danny didn't quite know how to react to Lindsay's gift of a box of liqueur chocolate. It creeped him out she somehow discovered this secret fondness of his despite him never telling a soul about it. (Except for the six-foot-tall guy who was currently looking very uncomfortable in the hard chair he was sitting on and watching television with him.)
He was also confused by a bright blue teddy bear one of the receptionists sent him, someone he didn't know at all. He threw it straight at Flack's head after the taller detective mumbled under his breath, with a sarcastic leer, that Danny was a closet girl just bursting to show off his femininity. Flack was a dolt like that. Danny would rather be strangled than confess he didn't care what Flack said about him, as long as they could hang out together this way as long as possible.
Flack visited him everyday, regardless of how much work he had to do at the precinct since Danny was first admitted four days ago. Not even the minor fever he abruptly contracted on the second day stopped Flack from getting into his room, much to the chagrin of the nurses. Stella tried to see him as often too, but with Danny out of the field and the extra investigation into the explosion, they were required to be very brief visits. They made Danny happy all the same. Stella was his ears and eyes back at headquarters while he was away. After listening to her tirade about IAB giving everyone a hard time and slowing matters down, he felt very compelled to punch Chief Hillborne in the face if they ever crossed paths again. He had a bad feeling he was fated to.
Danny ran a hand across the top of his head for the hundredth time that day. It was true he took pride in maintaining a professional and stylish appearance, though not to the point of vanity. His hair, he supposed, was one of his positive physical attributes, if it was styled right. When he was fresh out of high school, he made the mistake of growing it out into an awful mullet. Well, he sure wasn't going there again. He'd kept his hair short and spiked ever since then. It looked good on him anyway.
"Will ya stop worrying 'bout your hair? It's fine."
Flack flung the teddy bear back at him, and he caught it with his right hand. The bandages on his body came off in the morning. He'd spent a half hour simply gawking at his arms and hands. Or rather, their newly hairless appearance. He didn't even dare to pull away the hospital gown to look at his chest and abdomen. Or his legs. He had to fight back the urge to laugh at the dim recollection of one of his girlfriends dumping him just because he thought waxing his chest was disgusting.
"Yeah, suuure it's fine. I look like - like Cousin It's cousin."
Flack made a face.
"Cousin It had hair all the way down to his toes. You, my friend, have none." Flack swung around awkwardly in the chair and got up to dramatically inspect Danny's head from ear to ear. "No, waaaait. Make that, clumps of hair here and there that'll make even a poodle cry."
Danny elbowed Flack hard enough in the stomach to make him go, "Oof!" boisterously. Danny smiled innocently at Flack, who pressed a hand to the bruised area and was glaring at him.
"Whoops. It slipped." Danny lifted his hands up in the typical surrender pose.
"Ha ha, very funny." Flack still glowered, but the quivering of his lips betrayed his amusement. He flopped back into the chair, involuntarily flinching at the ache in his back muscles. Danny's keen eyes spotted it.
"Look, get your ass over here." Danny nimbly moved to one side of the bed. "Don't hafta be all Superman and act like you got muscles of steel or whatever."
"'Cuse me? Act like I got muscles of steel?" Flack took off his shoes and clambered onto the bed beside Danny. He'd already taken off his pink jacket the moment he came over. "I got muscles of steel. Don't need to act." Flack snatched the box of chocolates on a table next to the bed and shoved it at Danny's chest. "Now you, on the other hand, need all the help you can get."
"Fuck off," Danny said with a snicker. He opened it up and popped a piece of liqueur chocolate into his mouth. He had to acknowledge it; Lindsay did have fine taste in confectionary.
It was a tight squeeze, having two grown men sitting shoulder to shoulder on the single bed, but Danny wasn't going to complain. Big-ass explosion and hospitalization aside, he hadn't felt this good in a long time. They lounged in silence, watching some television series about a fictional FBI department dedicated to searching for missing persons. Half-way through the episode, he began daydreaming about what it would be like to be an FBI agent instead of a CSI. Would he still be the same guy he was today? The more he thought about it, the more persuaded he was that he'd be very different. If he'd been an FBI agent … he would never have met Flack.
"You scared the fuck outta everyone."
The vehemence in Flack's voice prompted Danny to stare at him with wide eyes. Flack kept his eyes on the television screen, chewing on a piece of chocolate, but still, Danny felt like Flack was staring right back at him. Flack didn't have to say it aloud. Danny knew what he was really trying to declare.
You scared the fuck outta me.
They stayed that way for a few minutes, Danny staring at Flack while Flack avoided looking at Danny like he'd raze down to ashes if he did so. On the television, the Cuban FBI agent was chasing a perp down some sandy hill on a racing bike, the soundtrack of gunshots and fast-paced music adding a surreal mood to the moment.
" … Don -"
Some emotion flickered in Flack's big, blue eyes. He blinked, and at length, turned his head to return Danny's gaze.
And then Danny wished he hadn't.
OooooooooooooooooooooooooO
Head Nurse Patricia Fleer, a thirty year veteran, was notorious for her sternness when it came to adhering to hospital rules. It didn't count whether they were major rules regarding the surgeons themselves or minor rules dictating how patients should conduct themselves. Rules were rules, and Head Nurse Fleer made sure all the nurses in her staff obeyed them, including herself.
That is, until the most gorgeous man she'd ever set eyes on came running up to her one morning, asking for the status on a Detective Danny Messer. One glance into those stunning cerulean eyes, and she was a goner. She wasn't the only one who became captivated with the tall police officer, and it gave her great satisfaction to be able to scold her junior nurses for gossiping about him.
And oh, there was without doubt plenty to gossip about.
Detective Flack (or Don, as she liked to call him in her fantasies) was a very regular visitor to his wounded fellow detective in room 107. On every visit, he had something for his friend, usually snack food that she turned a blind eye on the moment Detective Flack gave her a blinding smile. On the second day when Detective Messer suffered a slight fever from his superficial burns, she endeavored to stand her ground and tell Detective Flack he was not to stay in the room for more than ten minutes. Again, she fell victim to his gleaming pearly whites, and she threw her hands up in defeat. It was a lost cause to fight against a force like that. And no, she did not give up because it meant she'd get to see him more often. No way.
By the third day, all her nurses were whispering among each other that there was more to the attractive Detective Flack than meets the eye. One of them had caught him staring at the other detective dozing in bed, and it wasn't the way a regular guy would at a regular guy friend either. Another nurse caught them food fighting with some jello Detective Flack had sneaked in. Detective Messer was practically mashing dark red jello all over Detective Flack's face, cackling like a little boy. Detective Messer had yellow jello splattered on his scalp, which, Detective Flack later claimed was because the other detective 'missed his hair'.
Today was the fourth and final day of Detective Messer's stay, which meant it was also probably the last time Head Nurse Fleer would ever see Detective Flack. No, she was not tearing up at the thought. She had more important issues to attend to than lamenting over a handsome cop nearly half her age.
She picked up a dinner tray of food and headed for room 107. Detective Flack had most likely fed the room's occupant full with whatever food he brought in on his visit, but she wanted to make sure Detective Messer received his full three meals anyway. And if Detective Flack was there, that was simply a wonderful bonus.
Nearing the room, she could hear the sound of the television turned on. She knocked on the door, frowning faintly when there was no answer. She knocked again. No reply, save for the music coming from the television. Troubled now, she swiftly entered the room.
"Excuse me, Detective Mes-"
For a split-second, she saw both Detectives Flack and Messer sitting side by side on the bed, facing each other and so close their noses were almost touching. She gasped loudly. The next instant, Detective Flack was falling head over heels backwards onto the floor so his gangly legs were sticking upwards at the ceiling, while Detective Messer's whole face and neck was crimson red as he quickly jumped back under the blanket and tried to act like nothing was going on. The next instant after that, Detective Flack was back on his feet, fretfully rearranging his clothes though they were okay and also trying to act like nothing was going on.
"Uhm … dinner?" She smiled at them both, winking at Detective Flack.
"Heeey, Patricia! Nice to see ya again." If Detective Flack's voice was six octaves higher than usual, she didn't say a word about it. "I - uh - I gotta go already."
Detective Flack grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair and shrugged it on in a manner bordering on comical. When his arm missed the sleeve opening for the third time, Detective Messer unexpectedly erupted into laughter, bending over on the bed, his face more red than ever. Detective Flack slapped one hand down his face, but it hardly hid the embarrassed smile curving up his lips.
"If you'd like me to leave you boys alone …" Head Nurse Fleer took a step backwards.
"No! No, it's alright, I really do hafta go." Detective Flack cleared his throat, smoothed down his tie and then scrupulously put on his jacket, looking like his typical, professional self again. His face was as red as Detective Messer's. She was of the opinion it was truly endearing.
"Hey, uh, Danny, I'll, uhm, be here to pick you up tomorrow morning, 'kay?" It was even more endearing how Detective Flack was behaving like a boy who just had his first kiss.
"Sure. See you tomorrow, Don." Detective Messer evidently felt the same way, judging from the gleam in his eyes and the tiny smile.
Detective Flack couldn't quite look her in the eye as he smiled politely at her, striding past, the door closing behind him with a soft click. It didn't matter. What she witnessed a few minutes before was more than enough to last her a lifetime.
"I'm sorry if I was disturbing anything." Head Nurse Fleer set the tray down next to the bed. Even with most of his hair missing and having gone through a traumatic experience just a few days ago, Detective Messer was still a very good-looking man. She wasn't sure if he even heard her; he seemed to be in deep contemplation, the smile lingering.
"Hmm? No, no. It was time for dinner anyway." She gazed intently at him, catching a glimpse of what appeared to be disappointment in his blue eyes. Ah, she'd unquestionably interrupted something, alright. She sighed inwardly.
Why were all the hot men always gay?