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 'Necrophilia Americana', 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.
OooooooooooooooooooooooooO
Chapter 18
Stella's blazing eyes were ultra green in the brilliance of the sunlight that sifted through the slits in the blinds.
"Hmm, what do you think, Flack? Think our illustrious member of society here is innocent?"
Flack half-sat on the sole table in the room, glaring down with murderous eyes at the tanned, blonde woman clothed in an expensive, red Chanel suit.
"I dunno, Stella." Flack's voice was remarkably cool in contrast to the ferocity in his blue eyes. "Kinda hard to believe that, ya know? What 'bout the five kilos of heroin we found at her apartment, ah?"
The wife of the late Professor Adam Kovacs was seated with her back facing the screened windows, but her runny nose and watery eyes were plain for both detectives to see. Even though her makeup was scrupulously done, it wasn't good enough to cover up the dark bags beneath her eyes.
"Would you like some tissue paper, Mrs. Kovacs? Perhaps I can get a fellow officer to buy ya some herbal chicken soup from one of your posh restaurants." Flack towered over her, one hand on the back of her chair and the other flat on the table. He shoved his face next to hers, the sunlight casting one side of his face into the shadows. "I mean, I'm sure all ya have is the flu. A respectable, qualified professional like yourself couldn't possibly be a heroin addict."
The trio were in one of the interrogation rooms at Flack's precinct. It happened to be his favorite one too; he'd busted many perps in this very room. The last one, a retired local wrestler, ended up sniveling like a baby. After all the crap he had to go through to get this woman onto his home turf for grilling, he was gonna wring her for everything she had.
"You can't do a thing to me." Delilah Kovacs was the mainstream pretty, blonde and filthy rich woman in the big city, enclosed with a nasty fake tan that caused her to look more like an orange than anything else. She looked liked a Barbie doll come alive. Gideon had been thoroughly accurate in her description of the nanotechnologist. She was an utterly snobbish bitch who was unmoved by Flack's bullying tactics and peered down her noses at them both as if they were lower than dirt.
Flack noted that there wasn't a ring on the fourth finger of her left hand, nor was there a paler circle around that finger that indicated she'd recently worn one.
"Do you know who I am? I'm the government's most prized scientist." The blonde woman ignored Flack and glowered blatantly at Stella, who sat opposite her with her fingers steepled on the table. "Without me, they'd be on their knees. The FBI will be here any minute now to deal with this stupidity and release me." Correction. She wasn't just snobbish. She was egotistical beyond belief.
"Oh, yeah, most prized scientist." Stella smirked mirthlessly. "Bet you only got that title after you killed your husband."
Flack sneered at the tremor in the woman's hands.
"Adam? I haven't seen him in weeks. I don't know what you're talking about."
Stella merely gazed at Delilah with a calm expression. "Gee, Flack. She sure is upset at his demise, isn't she?"
"Yeah. She's cryin' rivers of tears." Flack remained in her personal space, eyes wide with impatience. "Loves him so much she couldn't give a damn where her beloved hubby was for the last few weeks."
"Mrs. Kovacs, allow me to enlighten you on your husband's situation. We discovered his naked corpse lying in an alley. In fact, we weren't even sure if it was your husband, because his genitals were missing and he'd grown G-cup breasts. Oh, and here's the most interesting part of it all." Stella leaned forward slowly. "His body was covered in a neon-blue substance we've identified as the oh-so-secret nanotechnology only you and your late husband had the skills to work on. Hmmm, extreme body transformations and advanced nanotechnology and one dead man turned woman. How do they connect to each other?"
Delilah's pastel blue eyes were filled with disbelief and consternation. "How … h-how do you know all this! No one outside the project is supposed to know! No one!"
"You have your sources. We have ours." Flack smiled like a cobra snake.
Stella went in for the kill. "You murdered Adam, Delilah. Chucked his body like rubbish so everyone could see what a freak he was."
The blood drained from Delilah's visage, leaving her pale and drawn. Her teeth bared in antipathy. "You don't know what it's like to live with a - a sick thing like him." Her voice began to escalate in volume. "Do you know how shameful it is to have a husband who - who dresses in women's clothes! Who wants to be a woman! HE HUMILIATED ME!"
Delilah's frenzied admission resonated in the room.
"Whassamatter, Mrs. Kovacs? Jealous 'cos he got prettier than you? 'Cos he got bigger boobs than you? Killed him off 'cos ya didn't want him ta get the limelight for being the hottest scientist 'round too?" Flack was in total asshole mode now.
"Yes, I killed him. I killed him, and I'm glad he's dead." The nanotechnologist resembled a rabid Chihuahua when she was mad. "He thought he could just escape and use our creation for his perverted kinks. Well, I showed him who the real expert was, didn't I? Wanted a woman's body, did he? I gave him what he wanted."
"You sabotaged his experiment."
"Oh, yes. Fucking perfectionist. Calculated everything to a tee. All I had to do was reprogram one phase to put him down for good. He was too weak from the new computations to move, so I watched him thirst and starve to death. And since he desired it so much for the world to see him as woman … I gave him that too, didn't I?" Delilah smiled primly. Flack wanted to whack it off her face. Many, many times.
Stella could merely shake her head. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe all he wanted was someone to love him? But of course, you wouldn't know anything about that, would you? You're too busy loving yourself."
"You can't do anything to me." Delilah tucked her long hair behind her ears, snubbing Stella's last statement. "I'm too precious to the FBI to be imprisoned. Look at the lengths they went to keep Adam in their service. Letting him go to that disgusting club. Letting him parade around in women's underwear. Look at the lengths they've gone to keep me in their employment. They know about my taste for heroin, and they've turned a blind eye to it all this time. You've got nothing on me."
"Ohh, I don't know." Stella took a brown folder from her lap and chucked it on to the table in front of the nanotechnologist. "I'm thinking we do."
Flack grinned pitilessly. Delilah froze.
"You seem the kind of woman who … values her reputation a lot. You did murder Adam to keep it. You admitted it yourself." Stella flipped open the folder, revealing two color photographs. "The way I'm seeing the whole scenario, the only reason you married Adam in the first place was because he was just a means to get to the top, wasn't he? Bet you thought he was just some boring, old scientist, but he wasn't. Oh, instead he was everything that was capable of destroying your status for a long, long time."
Stella held up the first picture. It was a head shot of Adam in his transformed state, on the autopsy table. "Yeah, the FBI may be covering your ass and letting you suck up drugs and all kinds of crap for your expertise. But they're only human too. They can make mistakes. You're a smart girl, Delilah. Tell me, how are your peers going to feel about finding out what Adam was like? How are they going to feel knowing his dear, wonderful wife killed him and watched him suffer before he died? I bet they don't even know about your heroin addiction, do they?"
Stella glanced at Flack, who looked back at her with an identical smirk on his face. "Them being such … esteemed, indispensable members of society. Please, do tell us."
"Y- … you're blackmailing me."
"We prefer ta call it persuasive co-operation," Flack said gleefully.
Delilah choked in her horror, grasping her throat with one hand.
"However." Stella slammed the photograph down onto the folder. "We're in a good mood today. We'll consider letting you off the hook if …" She tapped her fingers on the table.
"You tell us how to reverse the transformation process your nanotechnology caused."
Delilah was stock still in her seat for a few minutes, then angled her head. "Why do you need to know that?" She narrowed her eyes in distrust. "Adam's already dead."
Flack grinded his teeth as understanding dawned on the woman.
"Someone else was changed by it. Someone you know." The nanotechnologist laughed cruelly. "And you actually think I'm going to help you? I hope this person dies too."
Flack lost control of his body.
"Flack! NO!"
Flack felt frantic hands over his, trying their damnest to pry them off the thin neck of the woman he was strangulating to death. His whole vision was pure white. All he saw in his mind was an ashen Danny laid on the unbending, angular steel of the CSI labs' autopsy table, dead blue eyes staring at the ceiling. From a distance, he heard the guttural voice of a frenzied man roaring wordlessly.
"Flack! Let her GO!"
One of Stella's arm wrapped itself around his neck, stifling him. Flack started to cough. His hands constricted even more. Delilah's face was turning as blue as her eyes, her jaw sagging as she attempted to breathe in vain. A scratchy noise emitted from her throat. A forceful punch into his kidney triggered his eyes into tearing up, but his hands were indefatigable in their mission to crush the flesh in them to a bleeding pulp. He couldn't let go. Wouldn't let go.
ShehadtohelpDannyshehadtohelphim … nononono -
"What the hell is going on here!"
The pressure on his neck vanished. Two gigantic hands clamped over his wrists.
The overwhelming agony when the bones in his wrists crackled caused him to cry out.
In a flash, Flack was smashed on his back onto the table, bent over at an awkward angle by the hands still binding his wrists. Through moist eyes, he stared into the lidded, silver eyes of a gargantuan man. He hadn't felt this feeble in a long time.
"Detective Bonasera! I demand to know what is going on!"
Flack closed his eyes at Chief Hillborne's enraged words. Deep inside him, he felt something wither away. His body fell limp. His hurting wrists were freed.
"Chief Hillborne, we were just interrogating a potential suspect -"
"He tried to kill me! The bastard tried to KILL ME!" Mrs. Kovacs' voice rang shrill with rage. "I want him FIRED! NOW!"
Flack opened his eyes again to see the same colossal man gazing down at him. The man's hard, lined face was void of expression, but within the silver eyes was something very close to sympathy. Flack reclined where he was, brushing one hand over his forehead and eyes. His mother used to warn him about keeping his temper in rein, that someday, he was going to regret not doing so.
He wished with all his heart he had the ability to turn back the clock.
But life was a bitch like Delilah Kovacs. It never gave you what you wanted.
"Detective Flack."
Time to face the firing squad. Flack rolled onto his side and pushed himself upright. He straightened out his jacket and tie before he stood and faced Chief Hillborne and the others.
Hillborne's scowl contorted his face into a furious mask.
"Give me your gun and badge."
Behind Chief Hillborne, Stella gasped aloud.
"In just this past year alone, I've had over eleven complaints about Detective Taylor's misbehaving subordinates. Three of them were for Detective Bonasera here. Six of them were in regards Detective Messer … and two were about you." He pointed crudely with his forefinger at Flack's chest. "I don't care who your father is, and I don't care whether he's a damn New York legend or not. You're not going to use your name to get off easy anymore."
One hand thrust forward with the palm upwards.
"For what the hell you've just done here, I'm putting you under internal investigation to review your suitability to be a police officer. Until it's over, you're suspended. Now give me your gun and badge."
There was no sound in the room except for Delilah's harsh breathing. The nanotechnologist had a vindictive smile on her thin lips. Stella looked extremely pale in the sunlight. The giant who held him down stood quietly in the corner of the room, coolly observing the scene.
Gradually, Flack's features twisted into a scowl more severe than Hillborne's. He wrenched out his gun from its holster and hurled it, along with his NYPD badge, onto the table top before him.
"For your information, Chief Hillborne, I've never abused my name to achieve anythin' in life. I reached where I am today on my own power, not my father's. I abhor the fact you assumed I took advantage of my name to earn my status as a detective. And yeah," Flack glared at Delilah Kovacs with icy, blue eyes. "That broad there should be the one who's investigated. She stashed heroin in her apartment and murdered her husband and confessed it to both Detective Bonasera and me. If I were you, Chief Hillborne, I'd set my priorities straight."
Hillborne took Flack's gun and badge, sweeping away Flack's authority with one broad stroke of a hand on the table.
"Go home now."
Flack shifted his glare onto the colossal guy in the custom-made suit and macintosh. His guts told him the guy was a Fed. His wrists were still aching.
"How much they payin' ya, Chief?"
Hillborne was livid. "Go home now. Before you get fired."
Flack ignored him, directing his lethal gaze at Delilah.
"You can try and run as far and fast as ya can, but I'll find you. I found you once. I'll do it again."
Delilah shriveled visibly at his declaration.
Flack roughly shouldered his way past Hillborne, hearing Stella's concerned, "Flack …" but not responding to it. He thumped the semi-open door with his foot so hard he cracked it. He stormed down the hallway to the entrance of the precinct building, his curious work colleagues wisely clearing a way for him to leave.
He stood on the steps of the precinct entrance for some time. The chilly air outside served to only make him feel colder, inside and out.
He needed to feel warm again. He needed to be with the one thing in the world that grounded him like nothing else could.
He stomped to his car, already reflecting on how he was going to break the news to Danny.
OooooooooooooooooooooooooO
AD Jon Turgis watched the tall homicide detective stamp to the interrogation room door, ramming shoulders with Chief Hillborne along the way. Heh, so this was Don Flack's boy. He was every bit the hot-tempered, proud man his old man was. Even had the pretty looks down pat.
His partner, the gorgeous Detective Bonasera, tried to reach out to him by calling his name but it was a futile effort. Jon inwardly tsked. He couldn't blame the guy for being so pissed off. After all, he was just stripped of his badge and gun and was literally told to his face he was a pansy who was respected only because of his dad.
The blonde broad was now sinking her fangs into her next victim, figuratively speaking.
"She should be suspended too! They were working together!"
Geez, just five minutes in the room with her and Jon felt like choking her himself. How the hell did that poor bastard Adam ever stand being her husband?
"Now, now, everything's settled. No need to stir up more trouble." He placed a single hand on her shoulder, effectively shutting her up. Oh sure, she put on a bravado act with everyone else, but he knew she was scared shitless of him. Heck, even the torture masters back in the Middle East were scared shitless of him. He made sure it stayed that way.
And the ditzy bitch already caused enough crap for Maclaren and his people. He definitely wasn't going to let her ruin this hot Greek babe's life too.
"Agent Turgis, I apologize for what happened." Hillborne was such a suck up. "Detective Bonasera, I suggest you return to your labs immediately. Don't think you've gotten away easy. I'll be questioning you later."
The female detective shot daggers at the chief with her fiery eyes. If she shoved her third fingers at Hillborne's face and told him to fuck off, he was gonna have to kneel and propose to her right then and there. And this was coming from a guy who went batshit crazy at the mere mention of the word marriage.
Her glare was extra strong on him, but he could care less. Jon grinned back at her. She really was a beautiful creature. Maclaren was a friggin' idiot for not being with her yet.
"I remember you." She looked very pretty when she was infuriated.
"Heh. I sure hope ya do. I remember you. The Shrieking Greek Goddess." His grin widened at her expression of indignation. His heart, or what he thought was left of it, skipped a beat at her rude gesture with her middle finger at him. Hot damn, was this woman trying to kill him or what?
"Detective Bonasera!"
The Greek detective stormed out of the room without another word.
Hillborne was spluttering like a dolt.
"Ah, forget it. She's pissed off. Who wouldn't be?"
"Yes. Yes, as I said, I apologized for everything. Please, allow me to accommodate Mrs. Kovacs at another location until the investigation is over. For her safety."
Jon mulled over this for a second. "One a' them witness protection houses, eh?"
"Yes, and I'll make sure it's stocked with whatever Mrs. Kovacs wants. Your agents will have plenty of space too."
'On your dime, huh? Fine. Gimme the address later and you can talk to Mrs. Kovacs here about her requests."
He headed for the door, intent on searching for the young homicide detective. He snickered under his breath when he heard the blonde broad begin her rant about her specialized food and drinks. Dumbass didn't have a clue what he'd just gotten himself into.
He felt alarmed eyes on him as he plodded evenly for the police station's lobby and entry. Heh, it felt good to know he terrified even New York's finest. He wasn't so certain about terrifying Don Flack, Jr., however. That kid might appear like a pretty boy on the outside, but if he was anything worse than his old man, he wasn't somebody to be underestimated.
He caught sight of the young cop already at the driver's door of his car. In a mere dozen steps, he stood side by side with the guy. Flack was apparently daydreaming about something because it took him a whole minute to realize he was there. Flack jumped at his sudden presence, then made a acquiescent face. The detective sighed.
"Whaddayawant? Come 'ere to finish the job on my wrists?"
"Nah, I'm not into pretty boys. But ya mighta hit a close mark with the wrist thing."
Flack jumped again at his reply. Huh, was that lust he saw in those big blue eyes? Looks like Maclaren wasn't the only kinky guy in his team, in any case.
"So, whaddayawant?"
"Just to tell ya, don't give up."
The young man stared uncomprehendingly at him. Okay, he couldn't fault the guy for not understanding either. Jon decided to take a wild swing at things.
"C'mon, kid, do I hafta go nuclear on ya 'fore ya get it?"
Flack's jaw dropped. The guy had nice teeth. " … You're Nuclear Jon," he murmured.
"Well, hell." Jon's voice dwindled to a dramatic whisper. "It's anything better than the Screaming Mac Attack."
It seemed out the young detective had one heck of a laugh too. It rang clear on the streets.
"I don't get it." Flack appeared confused, the animosity gone from his eyes. "Y-you're the one who took away all our evidence and stuff. Even if you're Mac's pal, why are you helpin' us?'
"'Cos I've seen enough fucked up crap to last a lifetime. Sometimes a man just hasta do somethin' when he sees bad things goin' down." Jon glanced surreptitiously from side to side, studying the people and environment around them. It was already late in the afternoon, and the day was overcast. There was barely anyone on the streets, nor was there anyone in suspicious cars he could see. "I've been studyin' you and your friends too. You guys've got what it takes ta get yer friend back to his normal self. And maybe even expose this insanity 'fore it's used ta hurt people. But like I told Maclaren, it won't be easy."
"I know I'm under surveillance now too, but I'm gonna try and help out best I can anyway. So, don't quit just yet, pretty boy. It ain't over till the big-breasted man loses his fat. Tell Maclaren I'll be seein' him sometime." Jon winked at Flack, and walked off back into the police station.
He felt the young detective's eyes on him all the way until he closed the precinct entrance doors behind him.