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.
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Author's Notes: Okay, the story is about … uhm, five-eighths of the way through. It's getting kinda angsty, huh? I've never been able to write angst for long without adding humor to it. But then again, this is the first fan fiction story I've ever written anyway, heh. Thanks for the kind reviews, everyone!
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Chapter 19
"You. Got. Suspended."
Flack had his head bowed low, fingers intertwined in his cropped hair.
"You. Got Suspended."
Flack winced. "I'm sorry, Danny. I fucked up bad."
They sat next to each other on the black sofa, looking towards a glass display of Chinese antiques that included miniature kettles and cups, small porcelain vases and what looked like a row of mini terracotta soldiers standing at attention on the bottom shelf. Danny made a mental note to ask Mac about those sometime. Who'd have figured Mac had a fascination with Chinese culture too?
"Don." He squeezed the back of Flack's rigid neck affectionately. Whoa, the guy was tense. "What happened?"
Flack kept his eyes glued to the carpeted floor. "Stella and I, we had her in our hands. Told her straight what we were capable of doin' to her unless she helped us. Thought it was enough to get her on our side." Flack's hands scrunched into fists in his hair. "We were wrong. She was the most foul bitch I ever met. She figured out what was goin' on. Said she hoped you -"
Flack kicked aggressively at the floor. "I tried ta kill her. Hillborne saw the whole thing and suspended me. Took my gun and badge. Fucker."
Danny moved his hand onto Flack's lowered head, stroking what was left uncovered by the other man's own hands. Flack was hurting himself by grabbing his hair like that.
"C'mon, leggo. You're hurtin' yerself." Danny gently pried open Flack's stiff fingers one by one until Flack finally stopped trying to pull out all his hair by the roots. Danny stayed hushed when Flack took his hand in both of his and repeatedly rubbed his thumbs over the knuckles. It felt kinda nice.
"My old man called me up a half hour after the whole fuck up and screwed me up on the phone all the way here. So now I don't hafta go back to work. Hillborne and the Feds probably have that scientist bitch locked up somewhere I'll never know, and we're at a dead end. Again." Flack's voice was raspy. "I fucked up bad."
Danny had no idea what to say. His best friend had gotten a black mark in his formerly impeccable records thanks to him. He felt crappier than he did on that subway shooting day. At least at that time, he was the only one who was in near deep shit. Danny bit his lip.
Flack continued to massage his hand, as if it was the only thing keeping him sane. "I met Mac's informant. You wouldn't believe who the hell it is. But there's only so much he can do for us too."
Flack's face crumpled. "I'm sorry, Danny," he apologized once more. "It's my fault."
Danny felt a prickly wetness behind his eyes. "What are ya talkin' 'bout? It's my fault you ended up doin' what ya did. You got suspended 'cos of me."
"I don't give a flying fuck 'bout my job! Only reason I ever went into the academy was because my old man forced me to. Wants his only boy to be a great cop like him. I hate it."
Danny was taken aback at Flack's vicious confession. He sealed his fingers over Flack's, turning the clasp into a close-fitting handhold. His mouth opened to reply.
The doorbell of the apartment chimed.
Flack wouldn't release his hand. Part of Danny didn't want him to either, but he had to go see who it was at the door. He looked at his friend's disheveled and exhausted appearance. Flack was in no condition to do so.
"Don. I gotta go see who's at the door. Maybe it's Mac." He tugged softly at his held hand. Flack only let go when the doorbell rang a second time, fingers touching until Danny walked too far away for contact.
Danny peeked through the peephole. Lindsay, Stella and Hawkes stood on the opposite side of the door, waiting to be let in. Danny glanced back with a relieved smile. "It's the guys."
Flack didn't answer. His mauve jacket was haphazardly thrown on the back of the sofa. He'd yanked off his tie the moment Danny let him into the apartment; it lay on top of the jacket. His white dress shirt was open wide at the collar, revealing the top of muscular pectorals. If it weren't for the dark circles around Flack's big cerulean eyes or the downturn of his pink lips, Danny would have earnestly commented on how nice the guy looked without a jacket on and his shirt opened like that.
Danny unlatched the door and stepped back as his three co-workers entered. The two women smiled warmly at him, but Hawkes couldn't stop an audible gasp from escaping. Danny's face heated, and he folded his arms over his chest on impulse, eluding Hawkes' brown eyes. He felt naked eventhough he was wearing a long-sleeved, black v-neck sweater that was much more loose than his usual tops. It'd only hit him as he swung the door open that this was the first time since the hospital visit that Hawkes had seen him in person.
Stella greeted him and gave him a hug. The woman would probably beat the crap out of him if she knew, but Danny always thought of her as a marvelous mother figure. His own mother had never been there for him much. Stella appeared more fatigued and wan than usual.
"Flack?" she asked in muted tones.
Danny nodded. "He's … not holdin' up too good."
Stella peered past his shoulder and caught sight of Flack on the sofa. Her lips thinned into a worried line. "I'll go talk to him."
Lindsay was next in line to hug him. He presumed it was going to be really unnerving seeing her again after their illuminating conversation at her apartment. He was glad to be proven wrong.
"Hey, Danny." Her affable, genuine smile brought a smile out of him too. She lifted up a full, white plastic bag with a red dragon logo on the side. "Got enough Chinese takeout for everyone." She shook the bag mischievously at him. Ah, well, even the new girl knew about his weakness for Chinese food now.
Danny was suddenly struck with the necessity to make an apology to her. "Lindsay." She gazed attentively at him. "I'm sorry 'bout the way I acted that morning. It was just … shocking, ya know? I needed some time to process all that."
"It's okay, I know." Lindsay squeezed his arm with a grin. "You still have the armadillo plushie? You can keep it. She insists."
Danny's face warmed again. He was beginning to sense Hawkes' stare on him too. He was pretty certain he knew where those kind, brown eyes were settled on. Lindsay headed for the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone.
"Hey, Doc."
Hawkes glanced up with a start. Danny grinned broadly.
"I'm up here." Hawkes turned bright red.
"I-I'm sorry, Danny," Hawkes stammered. "I'm, uhm … well, I -" Man, the Doc was lovable when he was flustered.
"It's okay, Doc. A real bombshell, I know."
Hawkes' eyes inescapably wandered downwards again. "Bombshell for sure," he muttered in a preoccupied manner.
Oh hoh. Danny was getting the drift why so many women in the world craved big boobs. He had to admit it. It gave him a kick sorta like inhaling on a cigarette, back when he used to smoke. It was bad for you, but it was a feeling you just couldn't stop hungering for.
"Yeah, well, it ain't as fun as it looks, 'kay? They're freakin' awful on my back and neck."
Hawkes coughed. "Yes, uh … yes, big … breasts will do that." The blushing ME scratched at his head for a few moments, then looked up once more and smiled. "I'm happy to see you're alright though."
Okay, that went better than Danny expected. He'd taken for granted the Doc was going to totally flip out on him and scream his head off or faint or something. He had to give Hawkes credit for reacting much better than Flack or Mac or even Stella did.
"I'm okay. Bored like fuck, but I'm okay." Danny's expression became crestfallen. "I can't say the same for Flack. You know?"
Hawkes grimaced. The Doc was one of those guys who could wear a red turtleneck top and pull it off with class. "Yeah, Stella told me and Lindsay about it. IAB's going to give us a hard time for a while. Not that they haven't before."
The two men ambled into the living area. Stella sat close beside Flack, one arm around the homicide detective's shoulders and speaking mellifluously to him. Whatever she was saying was helping the guy to relax little by little, and Danny was grateful for it.
Lindsay turned up at Danny's side, gaining Hawkes' and his attention. "If you guys are hungry, the food's ready."
Right on time, Danny's tummy decided to make itself heard. Danny grimaced sideways at the wild growl emitting from his stomach. Hawkes chuckled while Stella lifted both eyebrows and spectacularly slanted away from Danny.
"Whoa, Danny, what do you grow in that belly of yours? Tigers?"
Danny rolled his eyes. "Ha. Ha. I didn't eat anythin' since this morning, 'kay?"
"Well, let's chow then." Stella stood up and patted Flack on one shoulder. "C'mon, Flack, some hot food'll do you good."
Lindsay smiled at Danny. She flicked at the hair partially veiling his eye and spectacles. "Like the new haircut. Anyone ever told you you could have been a hairdresser?"
Danny laughed. "That's funny, Lindsay, 'cos my Pop used to tell me that all the time. He thought it was a job I could go for if I didn't make it as a baseball player." He shrugged.
With his back turned towards Flack, Danny failed to notice the deepening scowl on Flack's face, or his clenched fists, as he watched Danny and Lindsay conversing together.
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"So. Where do we go from here, ladies and gentlemen?"
Hawkes' inquiry was met with a bout of silence at the round kitchen table. Danny still had his mouth full from the last piece of siew mai, and he gulped it down with some tea. Lindsay had a timid smile on her lips, tapping her fingers randomly on the table top. Stella wiped her mouth with a piece of tissue paper. Flack slouched in his seat, playing with his fried noodles with a fork, glowering at nothing in particular.
"I don't know." Stella's answer was mirrored on everyone's faces, especially Danny's.
Danny played idly with the chopsticks in his hands. "Where's Mac?"
" … He's with Hillborne." Stella glanced furtively at Flack who sat opposite her. "He was adamant on seeing Mac as soon as possible for the … internal investigation."
Flack made an aggravated face. The silence lengthened.
"I went back to Flack's precinct again later this afternoon." Flack raised his head at Stella's remark. "Guess who I met there? Detective Vicaro."
Danny cackled. "Oh, I remember him. He had the hots for Aiden. She was waaay outta his league."
Lindsay lifted an eyebrow, smirking minutely.
Stella also smirked, although hers was of a much more sardonic sort. "I suppose I should be grateful he's not covert about showing how he feels towards female police officers." She huffed. "He heard through the grapevine that Hillborne and the Feds are working together on housing and shielding a potential witness. Three guesses as to who the witness is."
"So IAB's in on the whole mess too?" Lindsay asked.
"Hillborne is, as far as the gossip goes. He is the chief."
"In other word, the only way we'll find out where they're keeping Delilah Kovacs is either through the FBI … or Hillborne." Hawkes looked like he wanted to punch someone.
Stella finished her tea. "Looks like it."
"Wonderful," Hawkes said derisively, pinching at the flesh between his eyes.
Flack started to stab brutally at the mangled remnants of his noodles.
Danny was restless, squirming in his seat. An idea was forming in his brain … a really, really fucked up one. But right now, it was all they had.
"I have an plan."
Everyone shifted their gazes on him.
"Just - just hear me out first, okay? No interrupting." Danny cleared his throat. Ohh, he had a gut feeling some people were gonna be pissed off with him when he was through. He took care not to look directly at Flack.
"I, uh … yesterday, I went out for a walk." Danny held up his hands defensively at the cross expressions on their faces. "It was just a walk! I didn't go drinkin' myself drunk again or anythin', really! Lemme finish." He rambled on before anyone could say a word.
"Okay, I went out for a walk, to get some fresh air … and I dunno, I guess I wasn't lookin' 'round properly and this car … kinda … ran me over."
"What?" Flack was quite scary when he was mad.
"Luckily, I wasn't hurt 'cept for a bruised left leg. And … some bruises here and there." Danny avoided Flack's irate stare. "The thing is … the guy drivin' the car was - was Hillborne."
Both women gasped noisily. Hawkes could catch a hundred flies with his gaping mouth.
"WHAT?" Oh yeah, Flack was fuming mad.
"And - and … he felt so guilty … h - he asked me out. To dinner." Danny grimaced, pressing his eyes shut. "At Nobu," he concluded with a very small voice.
The terrible silence in wake of his explanation was so thick it could be carved with a sword.
"That. Sonofabitch. Ran you over. And asked you. Out on a. Fuckin'. DATE."
Danny kept his eyes squeezed close. He didn't dare to open them and see the accusation in Flack's clear blue eyes. "Yeah."
"Oh my GOD, what did you say!" Stella's voice was so shrill she sounded like a chipmunk.
Danny winced. "I - I told him … I was gonna meet him there." Danny opened his eyes into slits.
Stella was going to give Hawkes a run for his money with her gaping mouth. Lindsay, on the other hand, had both hands clamped across her mouth, eyes wide with astonishment. Flack was so angry, all the blood was gone from his face. Danny felt like evaporating into thin air at the sharp anguish in those blue eyes.
"Oh, that's just greaaaaaaat." Flack shoved his seat backwards, toppling it onto its side. "First Mac, then Monroe. And now, fuckin' Hillborne." Flack's face warped into a visage of torment. "Everybody gets a piece a' ya, don't they, Messer?"
Danny felt something fracture within him. "What the fuck does that mean?"
"I give everythin', and ya just take! And these people don't even give ya anythin', and yet you just throw yerself on them like it doesn't matter!"
Danny lunged to his feet, poking a finger into Flack's chest. "Shit, that is NOT true!"
"Yeah. Whatever. Just you livin' up to yer last name, hahn?" Flack kicked at the fallen chair and stormed out of the kitchen to the living room to get his jacket and tie. Danny followed him, trying to grab Flack's arm to make him stay.
"Don, wait -"
Flack violently wrenched his arm away.
"Whatever, man. You just go on your fuckin' date with fuckin' Hillborne. Hope you have a good time. I'm sure he'll buy ya a nice, diamond ring."
The apartment door slammed in Danny's face.
Lindsay tentatively slinked out of the kitchen to see Danny sitting on the couch with his knees drawn to his chest, face obscured in his arms. His shoulders trembled.
"I'm doin' it for you, you stupid bastard," Danny uttered in a subdued, quavering voice to the man who was no longer there.
Stella and Hawkes stood at the kitchen doorway, feeling powerless and unhappy at the same time over the entire situation. As Lindsay embraced Danny in a comforting hug, Hawkes sighed heavily.
"It's going to be a long night."
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"What's your name, sweetie?"
Flack felt a hand touching him on the back of his head. It took him back to Mac's hideout apartment where Danny was stroking him on the head the same way. He burrowed his face deeper into his folded arms.
"It's okay, you can talk to me."
Flack thought the bartender of this particular bar was nice.
"You ain't sheh first lady ta say that ta me. Every lady wants ta talk to me, but nobody wants ta go further than that. Figures." Flack struggled to an upright pose, blearily looking at the blonde woman in her black and white uniform. What was her name again?
"You've already had eight shots of whisky. I'm not letting you drink anymore until you can prove to me someone's going to drive you home." She was a lot like his mother, except she was cool in a … bartender, badass way.
Flack smirked lopsidedly. "Heeey, I'ma big boy. I can handle it." Flack hiccupped on cue.
"C'mon. Talk. You look like you have a lot to say." Gertrude. Yeah, her name was Gertrude.
"Itsh complicated." Flack thrashed his arms around like a feral octopus. He almost fell off his stool and would have if Gertrude hadn't grabbed one of his arms. "You wouldn't believe any a' it anyway."
"Try me." The bartender jiggled his forearm encouragingly.
"Itsh like this. I got this buddy, see. We've known each other for a couple a' years." Flack slumped back on the counter, disconsolate. "I'm confushed 'bout 'im. One second, he's showin' all the signs there could be somethin' goin' on 'tween us. Next second, he's goin' 'round flirtin' with everybody else. And none a' 'em care 'bout him like I do." Flack let his forehead fall onto the cool surface of the bar counter. "Sucks."
"Oh, sweetheart, have you talked with him about it?"
"Can't. He's not sheh type ta siddown and listen. 'Less I force 'im. He gets mad when people do that ta 'im."
Gertrude resumed stroking his hair. It made Flack feel lots better.
"You know, sometimes, people put up walls around themselves especially around people they care about. They're afraid of getting hurt by those people, see?"
Flack spoke into the counter, eyes half-closed. "I wouldn't hurt 'im."
"Uh hmm." Gertrude's melodious, rich voice was all-knowing. "So … what are you doing here then?"
Flack spent some time contemplating the question.
"I dunno. I just wanna drink. Got no job, no friendsh. No nothin'."
"I don't think that's the truth."
Flack was too washed-out to respond.
"There was this cute guy who came in here the other night. Drunk himself silly just like you too." Gertrude tsked. "Now he was one with an unusual story. If he didn't tell me he was a guy, I would have thought he was a woman with one heck of a pair of num-nums."
Flack's eyes opened wide.
"He told me he was involved in a nasty explosion that put him in the hospital for a while. And ended up growing a pair of giant breasts. He didn't even want them. Honey, there're people out there who've got it way worse than you do. I'm sure you're just exaggerating about having no friends, gorgeous man like you."
Flack slowly raised his head. "He had dark hair? Blue eyes? … Glasses?"
Gertrude stopped pouring some golden beer into a mug part way to consider it. "Hmmmm, you got the dark hair and blue eyes right, but I don't remember him wearing any glasses."
The tap recommenced its dispensing of alcohol. "Anyway, he was sitting where you are now, drunk on tequila and this disgusting jerk comes around and literally molests the poor guy. Can't say I blame him though. Those were some mind-blowing looking boobs."
Flack shot upright at all that, his buzz gone in a jiffy.
"The jerk-off wouldn't back away until one of new patrons came and saved the night, so to speak." Gertrude grinned. "Man, if she wasn't taken already, I would have been hers on the spot. Whoever her ladylove is, she's one lucky woman."
Her ladylove? Huh?
Gertrude took note of Flack's perplexed expression with a grin. "Oh, honey. You don't know, do you?" She leaned forward and whispered, "This is a dyke bar."
Flack scrutinized his surroundings with narrowed eyes, scanning the entire bar that was filled with women, then looked back at Gertrude. He was the only man in the whole place.
"Well, shit. And here I thought I got lucky."
Gertrude laughed merrily at his comment.
"Don't worry, handsome, I'm sure there're lots of them who'll be happy to overlook your gender."
Flack was interested to know more about the new patron who'd saved Danny's ass. Mac had told him about Danny getting drunk at a bar and staying over at Lindsay's, but he sure never incorporated any details about the bar catering to lesbians. Huh, maybe Mac didn't know either.
"So who was this chick who saved …" Flack waited for Gertrude to supply him with a name for the hot-boobed guy who'd sat on his stool that other night.
"Danny." Gertrude chewed on her lip in happy reminiscence. "She was incredible. The fat ass was nearly two heads taller than she was, and she just puuuuuushed him around like he was a marshmellow. A really stinky one, anyway. I was really impressed, seeing that she's new to the city too."
"What's her … name?"
Gertrude grinned. "Cute name. Lindsay."
Flack's head creaked to a forty-five degree angle to the left.
Lindsay was … a lesbian? A LESBIAN?
"Got to chitchat with her when she came back to pay for Danny's tab before she drove him home or something. I think I'll pay a visit to Montana some time. If all their women are like her."
But … if she was a lesbian, and she was already spoken for, then … she and Danny …
Oh. Crap.
"Are you okay? You look pale."
Oh, crap. Flack grimaced at the spiteful things he'd said to Danny before he stomped off in a huff that evening. He was a Goddamn asshole.
"I … I gotta go." Flack pulled out some bills from his wallet and handed them to Gertrude. "Keep the change, ah?"
"Thanks, sweetie." The blonde bartender had benevolent, knowledgeable eyes. "Good luck with your guy."
"Thanks." Flack made a remorseful face. "I'm gonna need it."
He thought of blue eyes overflowing with hurt. Don Flack, Jr. had a hell lot of apologizing to do.