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 10
Mac was floating peacefully in a very happy place.
He could tell he was lying down on the floor, on top of some thick rug that made him muse about hot Arabian nights and scantily clad belly dancers with curvy, full bodies. He smiled languorously, eyes closed. Ahh, he could feel one of them lying on top of him right now, her hands wrapped around his face and neck. He thought it was a little odd she was joggling his head like she wanted him to wake up instead of caressing him. Perhaps this was some extraordinary, enigmatic Arabian massage he didn't know about.
"Mac? Can you hear me?"
Huh. He never knew Arabian belly dancers had thick New York accents like that.
Or had a deep voice like a man's.
"Mac." He felt a mild slap on his right cheek. "C'mon, open yer eyes."
Mac eventually obeyed, peering at the low-voiced, comfy form hovering above him from beneath half-closed eyelids. Hmmm, wherever he was, this place sure had unique belly dancers. Those were really pretty sapphire eyes. He didn't mind the short, spiky hair either. But since when the heck did Arabian belly dancers wear tank tops?
"I'm going to go get a cup of water. You guys stay here with him." Gee, the other belly dancers had New York accents too. At least this one sounded much more like a woman.
"C'monc'mon, Mac, gedduuup." The dancer on top of him slapped his face a few more times.
He growled. Ohh, so that's how she liked to play, eh? His open hands lunged upwards and made contact with the closest fleshy mounds he could take hold of. He grinned broadly, all teeth. Whoa, now those were what he called plentiful.
"Ho. Ly. Crap." Wha, there was another dancer? Nevermind that that one had an even deeper masculine voice than the one lying on top of him. Mac Taylor was a lucky, lucky man tonight!
"Don, he's grab- he's grabbin' my -" A high-pitched squeal made him wince. A powerful, brain-boggling slap across his face made him wince even more. He reluctantly let go.
"Owowoww, stop hitting me!" Mac blocked the oncoming blows with his forearms, pushing with his feet to try to get away from the now infuriated belly dancer. "Stop it!"
The other one (and boy, was this one a giant of a woman) enveloped her arms around her upset co-dancer and forcibly pulled her off him. Mac collapsed back onto the floor, arms spread out, eyes still almost closed. He had enough. He was going to tell off Jon big time for dragging him to a place like this.
A door suddenly opened, and Mac heard a piercing, "Incoooomiiiiiiiing!"
SPLOOOSSSH!
As irritating as it felt, Mac had to confess the chilling sensation of having a whole cup of cold water splashed all over his face and chest sobered him up quick. After a minute or two of listening to the water drip off his hair and face, he sat upright and wiped off the rest of the water from his face.
Okay. Clearly, he was drunk. He would never ever have done what he just did if he wasn't. Right, apologies. Then he was getting out of there like a bat out of hell. One last rub across his eyes, and he opened them.
What the? This was no belly dancer bar in Saudi Arabia.
Mac was sitting on the wooden floor of a bedroom, surrounded by three other people who were staring at him with unanimous alarmed expressions. They weren't belly dancers, they were three regular people who were New Yorkers just like himself.
Well, maybe the one with the glorious pair of massive breasts was more than regular.
The tall guy to his left, in a black sleeveless shirt and track pants, leaned over to the beautiful woman holding a cup in front of Mac and said, "Ya think he got some kinda brain damage when he fell over?"
Mac glanced to his right, grimacing in apology at the woman who was glaring with wet eyes at him. If that glare had the power to kill, he'd be vaporized dust by now. He had to literally pinch himself excruciatingly to stop himself from staring at her chest. Those blue eyes seemed so familiar, as well as the distress in them.
You shot wild, Danny.
Mac gasped. The events of the morning rushed back into his mind, and he shivered as if he'd been doused with another cup of water. Oh shit. That was no woman.
"Oh. My. God. I-I thought … I thought I was back in Saudi Arabia, at-at that bar with all those belly dancers and-and …"
All three people simultaneously raised their eyebrows at his blurted admission.
"Danny, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do that …" Mac clasped Danny's forearm, and felt an unexplainable twinge of hurt at the other man's flinch. He was beginning to learn what Danny might have felt like that evening in his office at the former CSI headquarters, after he said all those damning words to the younger detective. Why did he say all those things about being advised against hiring Danny eventhough it wasn't necessary? His pride be damned. The twinge grew stronger when Danny wrapped his arms over his chest and perceptibly slanted away from him.
"It … it's okay. You were knocked out. Didn't know what you were doin' anyway." Danny couldn't look him in the eye, which only served to make him feel worse.
Flack and Stella looked at each other meaningfully. Stella cleared her throat.
"I'll go get a towel for you, Mac. Flack, do you mind brewing up some more coffee?"
"Right on it." Both of them got to their feet and quietly left the room, closing the door with a faint click.
The silence in the bedroom was deafening.
Mac ran a hand through his sodden hair. The last time he'd been in awkward circumstances like these was during his first date with Claire, after he accidentally spilled a glass of red cordial drink onto her ivory dress at a posh restaurant. But that was a different kind of awkward. This was the unsettling kind that caused goosebumps all over his body, the kind that made him want to flee as far away as possible.
Danny had drawn his knees up to his chest, arms on top of them, face hidden from view. Part of Mac's brain noted the younger man's new head of hair. Another scientific impossibility, as Danny'd been nearly bald mere days before due to the explosion at the labs. Mac became conscious of what a vulnerable and terrifying position Danny was in right now. If he woke up one day and discovered he'd grown a pair of DD-cup breasts … demolishing a single coffee table would have been the least of what he would do. Taking an AK-47 and shooting wildly at everything in sight might have been more like it.
Mac spied a thick, blue robe situated on the queen-sized bed amidst the rumpled blanket and sheets. He pulled it over and enfolded Danny with it.
"Did … did I hurt you?"
Danny tugged the robe closer around his body, whispering a rasping thank you and then replied in a small voice, "That's one hell of a loaded question, Mac."
Mac perched himself beside the other man on the floor, leaning back onto the side of the bed. He took some time to think his words carefully.
"I know we never talked about things much after the subway shooting incident. And yes, I was disappointed in you." Mac saw Danny's face screw up at that. "But not for the reasons you think." Mac twisted his body to face the younger CSI.
"I was disappointed … because you chose to distrust me, after all our years of working together." Danny's head snapped sideways at him. Those blue eyes were brimming. "You chose suspicion and resentment above our friendship. You chose to disobey me, knowing that the decisions I made was all for helping you out, not to trap you or simply to protect the integrity of the lab."
When Danny didn't say anything, Mac asked, "You knew that, right?"
It took a long time before Danny answered him with a tiny shake of his head. Mac frowned in dismay.
"You mean, you really thought all I cared about was the lab? You thought I didn't care what happened to you? "
Danny bowed his head, shielding his face from Mac. For the second time that week, Mac was at a loss for words. It was becoming unmistakable why Danny had been acting so uptight and restless around him all these months. Mac couldn't believe he'd been this blind.
"Danny, I … we're part of a team. Together." Mac tentatively rested a hand on Danny's shoulder, exceedingly pleased that Danny didn't shy away this time. "We're … well, family, in a way. We look out for one another. And I, as the supervisor … I look out for everyone. Including you."
Danny rubbed one palm over his eyes, huddling in his robe and avoiding Mac's gaze. Mac waited patiently for a response.
"I'm sorry." Danny looked him straight in the eye as he said it.
Mac was stunned.
It was the first time since they met each other that Danny had ever apologized for anything.
"I'm sorry for being such a pain in the ass. I'm sorry I can never do anythin' right. I'm sorry I'm always causin' problems for you." Danny wiped away the wet tracks on his cheeks. "Look a' me, Mac. If you were disappointed in me then, what would you think of me now? I've become a-a damn freak. I go back to work, the lab'll be the laughin' stock of the city. You might as well fire me now like Aiden and save everyone the trouble."
A spark of anger ignited inside Mac at that.
"Did you hear a word I said?" Mac saw apprehension develop in the other man's eyes. Mac held on to Danny's shoulders. "It doesn't matter whether problems crop up or not. They always do. And it's not always your fault. Danny, if you think I'd simply abandon you to the wolves at the first sign of conflict, you must think so little of me."
Danny immediately shook his head violently in protest. "No, that's not true-"
"No? Then why can't you believe that I care about your wellbeing? Why can't you believe I'm here for you?"
Danny appeared stupefied. "I … I'm not worth it."
Mac sighed. So this was the real underlying issue.
"Okay. You listen to me now. Listen." Mac ascertained Danny was staring him in the eye and attentive before continuing. "When I hired you over five years ago, yes, there were people who advised me against hiring you, but I decided to do so anyway. Because I believe in second chances. I believe in looking beyond a person's past and mistakes and focusing on who the person is today. You understand?"
Danny nodded. Within the watery blue, hope was blossoming.
"I had a selection of over a thousand prospective candidates for the CSI post. One thousand. And I picked you. Not only because you graduated at the top of your class, but because I knew you were capable of being a valuable and accomplished CSI the minute I interviewed you. And guess what?" Mac smiled warmly. "You are."
Danny dipped his head shyly, but not before Mac caught a glimpse of an encouraged smile. "Wow. I dunno what to say."
"You don't have to say anything. Just do your best. Oh, and stop disobeying me so much."
Danny gazed at Mac coyly from beneath his eyelids. "And what if I don't wanna?"
There was a sudden electric charge to the air between them. All Mac could see was Danny, his face mere inches away from his. He never noticed how long Danny's eyelashes were, how the blue of his eyes reminded him of a sunny, cloudless morning sky. Or how lush Danny's pink lips looked when he pouted that way. Mac felt an uncontrollable shiver travel up his back to his neck, making him inhale sharply.
"If you don't … I might just put that cane in my office to good use." Damn, where the hell did that come from?
Danny's mien turned strawberry red, eyes wide and mouth agape. A squeaky noise emitted from Danny's open mouth. For some reason even he didn't know, Mac was hit with the desire to dance around on the bed and sing that La Bamba song.
At last, he'd found a way to keep Danny in line!
The sound of someone coughing at the door broke the mood and jolted them out of their reverie. Still blushing hotly, Danny tied the robe more snugly around his body while Mac sat back and scratched at his neck, unknowingly smiling to himself.
Stella was at the door with a large colorful towel in hand. "Uhm, this was the only towel I found in the bathroom." She looked pointedly at both guys, as if she was searching for some clue about what they were discussing. Apparently, she got it; she grinned especially at Mac, chucking the towel at him. "You look like a drowned rat."
Mac caught the towel and idly dried his hair and dabbed at his damp clothes. He'd completely forgotten he was even soaked. He sensed Danny staring at him while he did so.
"Flack's done with the coffee and tea. You two come out when you're ready." Stella closed the door again.
"Hope you don't mind me using your towel." Mac wiped at his chest under his button-up shirt. Geez, how much water did Stella souse him with?
"Hm? No, it's fine. I got more than one towel anyway."
Mac smiled, folding the towel over his arm. "Okay then. Let's go have ourselves a drink, then we'll see what to do about you."
Danny smiled back. "Okay."
OoooooooooooooooooooooooooO
Flack nonchalantly ruffled Danny's hair as the CSI slept on the couch in the living area, his afghan wrap cozy around his shoulders as he lay on his side. Flack was worried about his friend falling asleep so much. It wasn't normal. Heck, nothing since last night was normal.
"Did he sleep last night?" Stella sat on one of Danny's black-and-steel stools, holding a mug of coffee in hand. She was frowning in concern.
"Yeah. He's been sleepin' like this on and off since Wednesday, accordin' to what he told me." Flack was sitting on the edge of the couch, Danny's head partially on his thigh. "If I didn't come lookin' for him, he probably wouldn't have drunk or eaten a thing since then. Said he was exhausted all the time and felt pain in his chest."
Stella bit on her lower lip, toying with a button on her v-neck, long-sleeved top. "Well, I guess we all know the reason why now."
"Babies, particularly newborns, sleep a great deal in their first months of life." Flack and Stella looked at Mac. Mac was also sitting on a stool like Stella, his coat taken off and doubled over the back of the couch at Danny's feet. He looked handsome in a dark red shirt and black trousers. "They sleep to conserve energy for the rapid development of their bodies. It makes sense why Danny's sleeping so much. His body's been using up huge amounts of energy for the … extreme physical transformation."
"Now that I think about it, this also explains the condition of our DB. The blue substance we found all over the body must have been the catalyst for the similar physical changes. Hammerback may have been right about it being some radical cosmetic treatment we've yet to hear of."
Flack made a revolted face. "What the hell kinda crazy guy would wanna grow giant breasts?"
Stella smirked. "Well, if there was such a procedure where surgery wasn't necessary, I think there would be many transsexuals who'd be interested in it. As well as hundreds of thousands of women all over the world who want bigger breasts."
Flack threw up his hands in the air. "Hey, I'm all for freedom of choice, but me? I'm a lover of au naturelle women, if ya know what I mean. I'd take small real boobs over Godzilla plastic watermelons any day."
Stella grinned. "Good for you."
"So, okay. This blue stuff is the thing that changed the DB and Danny." Flack instinctively retucked the afghan wrap around Danny when the sleeping detective moved onto his back on the couch. "And the Feds have taken all the evidence and research away. Can't go barging into their HQ without exposing Danny. Unless another body pops up with the same MO … we're at a dead end." Flack look beseechingly at the older detectives.
" … Not quite." Mac got off his stool and walked over to his coat, digging around in the inner pockets until he uncovered what he was looking for. He went back to his seat, passing Stella an opaque white container. Stella unscrewed the cap, her smooth face crinkling into a big smile.
"Mac. Have I told you lately I love you?"
"Yes, but I love hearing it anyway."
Stella laughed.
"Hey, c'mon. Share it with everybody here." Flack smiled sideways hesitantly.
Stella stretched out the arm holding the container in his direction. Flack grinned like the Cheshire Cat at the neon-blue gooey matter glowing inside.
"Mac, you bastard." Flack laughed exuberantly. "Hah, the Feds didn't get everything after all!"
Stella rotated the cap back on and handed the container back to Mac, who patted it.
"I've been warned that the lab and all its activities are under heavy scrutiny now, so we'll have to be extra cautious from here on. Stella and I will handle investigation of the substance." Mac watched Danny napping, totally oblivious to the world. "Flack, I'll give you an address of one of my … hide-outs. I want you to pack Danny's things and bring him there as soon as possible. The Feds probably have this place staked out by now. Make sure you're not followed."
"Hey, you're talkin' to Don Flack, Jr. here. I eat dumbass Feds for breakfast." Flack paused. "What about Hawkes and Monroe? You gonna tell them about Danny? I don't think Danny'll want them or anybody else to know about this."
Mac pursed his lips. "The less who know this, the better. But if we need their help, we won't have much of a choice. We're a team. We look out for each other." He rolled the opaque container in his palm.
"And I'll be damned a thousand times over before I let the sonsofbitches who created this stuff get away with it."