Post by bluebean on Jun 24, 2007 2:31:44 GMT 1
A/N: This is sort of inspired by Breathe (2AM) by Anna Nalick. All mistakes are mine. Lemme know what you think.
Disclaimer: I don't own CSI New York
Summary: When it falls apart, she calls him up. Danny/Lindsay, onesided Flack/Lindsay.
Crumble
He picks up the phone absentmindedly, glancing nonchalantly at the caller ID as he flips it open and lifts it to his ear; he’s forgotten that he’s been screening his calls. It’s her on the other end, her voice hitches as she speaks and her words are choked, his heart breaks just a little as he listens to her sobs, but he’s quick to suppress the response.
“I…I don’t know what I’ve done,” she says, and it’s all she can get out. He tells her he’ll be there in a minute and hangs up the phone, berating himself all the while for giving in. After all of it, he’s still at her beck and call.
As he drives through the New York night, watching the lights as they fly past him on some streets and as they crawl past on others, he thinks back to the night it all ended; or was that when it started? It’s all so muddled in his mind that he can’t separate start from finish anymore.
“He’s going to be all right,” she had said as he gazed through the glass at Danny’s sleeping form in his hospital bed. She had placed a hand on his shoulder, drawing his attention from the other man’s sleeping form, and he had looked down at her expecting…what? Now that he looks back on it, he’s not sure what he thought was going to happen. She had simply smiled at him, and then gone into the hospital room. That had been his cue to leave, but he had stayed and watched as she placed a small kiss on Danny’s forehead. That was when he turned and left, anger stewing inside of him. Why, though, was something he could never puzzle out.
She never promised him anything, and he reminds himself of this as he pulls into a parking spot in front of her apartment building. He turns the car off and gazes at her window, wondering what is behind it. What secret has she called him here to share with her?
He laughs harshly at the thought. It’s not a secret meant only for him, no; it’s between the three of them. Danny, Lindsay, and him; those are the kind of secrets they share. The kind where one of them doesn’t know until it’s too late to solve whatever problems they’ve called; and he’s always that one. He’s on call for her ready to heel at her command.
He climbs out of his car with the reality of their relationship hanging over his head and climbs the steps to her building slowly, watching her window for as long as he can. She knows he’s here, he’s sure of that. He knows she’s been watching his car since he parked, and he smirks at the knowledge that he made her wait.
The ride in the elevator allows for little reflection, as he is surrounded by crying children and a careless babysitter, but once he steps into the silence of her floor the memories flood back into his mind. His knock on her door echoes through the hall, but it barely penetrates his mind. He’s forgotten that he did knock when she swings the door open and beckons him in, wiping tears from her face and forcing a smile.
“Sit,” she says, he does. He settles in on her couch, not bothering to remove his coat. She sits next to him, but he can feel the space she leaves between them. He looks over at her, watching closely as she shifts her legs underneath her and strategically wipes at her face again, but he can see that all that is left of her tears are their stains.
“What is it?” he asks, and his voice is much too soft for his liking. He wants to be crass, he wants to be angry, and he wants her to know what she put him through. But, he reminds himself again, she never promised you anything. He fights the thought, focusing his eyes so that the indifference he wants to feel is what she sees. Her eyes flicker to the floor and he knows he’s succeeded, but he falters for a moment at the thought that he could hurt her; but he has remedied his weakness before her eyes return to him.
“I don’t know,” she says, and he can hear the beginnings of sobs in her voice; but she’s strong and no tears come. “I just, we just,” she takes a deep breath, “it’s over. We’re over. And, Don, I don’t know why.” A hundred lines about office relationships run through his mind, but he pushes them away. As crass as he wants to be, he knows he’ll get nowhere if he mentions the obvious.
“Why did you call me?” he queries. It’s not what he wants to say, but it’s all he’ll allow himself. She stares at him for a minute, then her body begins to shake and the tears once again begin to fall. She leans against him, closing the void she had left between them, and he wraps his arms around her shoulders. He can feel his plan crumbling as her tears run down his neck.
“Lindsay,” he whispers, “I’m so sorry.” She shakes her head and sits up, but she stays next to him. Their legs are touching and it takes all of his self control to keep from laying a hand on her knee.
“You don’t have to say that, Don, it won’t solve anything,” she says, and try as he might he can’t suppress the smile at her realistic view of life; and she smiles, too. It is small, but it is real, and it makes him smile even more. It’s gone quickly, though, and his follows; soon she’s gazing off into space and he feels like he is no longer wanted, until her gaze falls on him again.
“Lindsay,” he says, cupping her cheek in his hand, “what is it?” She shakes her head and his hand falls once again to his side.
“Do you want something to drink?” she asks. She’s avoiding it, he knows, but he doesn’t say anything. He nods and follows her as she rises and goes to the kitchen. He lets his eyes wander around the apartment, taking in what has changed and what has remained the same since the last time he visited.
She had just moved into the building and he and Danny had helped her move in. Danny had had to leave soon after they’d finished, but he had been able to remain. She had offered him a beer, one out of the six-pack Danny had brought as a housewarming gift, and he had accepted. One beer, that was it, and it was enough to spark a conversation unlike any they had ever had.
They had talked about Montana and New York, comparing their respective childhoods; and he recalled setting his empty beer bottle on the kitchen counter and leaning towards her, their bodies pressed together in the small space. He had paused for protest, but she had leaned forwards the rest of the way to press their lips together.
He shakes his head as she hands him a beer, banishing the memories. She raises an eyebrow at him and he shrugs.
“Just water,” he says, though he does want the beer, and his mind returns to reminiscing. The night had escalated quickly, turning into a one night stand. He recalls the conversation they had the next morning, the promise that it would not affect their work or their friendship and the assurances that it was a one time thing.
But he had wanted something more, been hoping for it all the while; holding on to the possibility; until it had died with her relationship with Danny. All hope that that one night stand could turn into something more had been banished, but now here he is, standing in her kitchen with that selfish wish still hanging in the back of his mind.
“I’m sorry I dragged you here,” she says, breaking his reverie and handing him a glass of water. “I didn’t know who else to talk to.” He shakes his head as he takes the glass from her grasp and lifts it to his lips, stalling to think of a response.
“It’s all right,” he says, “I don’t mind.” And he doesn’t. His love for her has won, sending his anger at himself to the back alleys of his mind. He moves to stand beside her and lays an arm on her shoulders. She leans her head against his shoulder and sighs, sipping her beer. He sets his water aside and places a soft, platonic kiss on the top of her head.
“Tell me what happened,” he says, but she shakes her head.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she whispers. She looks up at him, and their faces are inches apart. He watches as she slowly leans towards him, lifting her face to his. The desire in him pushes him forward, but at the last minute he turns his head away and her lips fall on his cheek. She steps away from him and when he looks at her he sees the confusion in her eyes.
“What happened?” he asks again, it’s all he can say.
“Why does it matter?” she counters, echoing the question he had already asked himself.
“Because I don’t want this,” he says. “I don’t want to be back up, Lindsay.”
“What do you want?” she queries. He sighs.
“That doesn’t matter,” he says. “What matters is that I’m your friend and I’m here to listen.” She shakes her head and returns to the couch, he follows. He sits beside her, careful to leave the void between them, and places a hand on her shoulder.
“Just tell me.”
“He just. It’s not even that big a deal, I’m just. I’m over reacting,” she says, looking at him. Her eyes are cloudy, but the tears are done falling. He moves closer to her and once again embraces her.
“What happened?” he asks again, feeling annoyed at his repetitive questions.
“We broke up,” she says, and it’s followed by a curt laugh. “I sound like a teenager.”
“It’s allowed,” he says, and she glances at him.
“We just, had this big fight, you know?” she says, and he nods. “And then he said it would be better if we just went back to being friends.” He nods again.
“What did you say?” he asks.
“I said I didn’t know how well that would work, and he said that if it didn’t one of us would have to switch shifts,” she responds, blinking as a few lone tears trail down her cheeks. “I think that’s what got to me the most.”
“Probably would have done the same to me,” he says, and she smiles.
“Don’t want to leave the family, either, huh?” she asks and he smiles.
“What d’you say we watch a pointless movie?” he suggests. She shakes her head and leans against him, her legs tossed over the arm of the couch and her hands holding his arm across her stomach.
“Let’s just sit for awhile,” she says. She soon falls asleep, and he follows shortly after, a smile on his face.
Disclaimer: I don't own CSI New York
Summary: When it falls apart, she calls him up. Danny/Lindsay, onesided Flack/Lindsay.
Crumble
"There are only two tragedies in life: one is not getting what one wants, and the other is getting it."
- Oscar Wilde-
- Oscar Wilde-
He picks up the phone absentmindedly, glancing nonchalantly at the caller ID as he flips it open and lifts it to his ear; he’s forgotten that he’s been screening his calls. It’s her on the other end, her voice hitches as she speaks and her words are choked, his heart breaks just a little as he listens to her sobs, but he’s quick to suppress the response.
“I…I don’t know what I’ve done,” she says, and it’s all she can get out. He tells her he’ll be there in a minute and hangs up the phone, berating himself all the while for giving in. After all of it, he’s still at her beck and call.
As he drives through the New York night, watching the lights as they fly past him on some streets and as they crawl past on others, he thinks back to the night it all ended; or was that when it started? It’s all so muddled in his mind that he can’t separate start from finish anymore.
“He’s going to be all right,” she had said as he gazed through the glass at Danny’s sleeping form in his hospital bed. She had placed a hand on his shoulder, drawing his attention from the other man’s sleeping form, and he had looked down at her expecting…what? Now that he looks back on it, he’s not sure what he thought was going to happen. She had simply smiled at him, and then gone into the hospital room. That had been his cue to leave, but he had stayed and watched as she placed a small kiss on Danny’s forehead. That was when he turned and left, anger stewing inside of him. Why, though, was something he could never puzzle out.
She never promised him anything, and he reminds himself of this as he pulls into a parking spot in front of her apartment building. He turns the car off and gazes at her window, wondering what is behind it. What secret has she called him here to share with her?
He laughs harshly at the thought. It’s not a secret meant only for him, no; it’s between the three of them. Danny, Lindsay, and him; those are the kind of secrets they share. The kind where one of them doesn’t know until it’s too late to solve whatever problems they’ve called; and he’s always that one. He’s on call for her ready to heel at her command.
He climbs out of his car with the reality of their relationship hanging over his head and climbs the steps to her building slowly, watching her window for as long as he can. She knows he’s here, he’s sure of that. He knows she’s been watching his car since he parked, and he smirks at the knowledge that he made her wait.
The ride in the elevator allows for little reflection, as he is surrounded by crying children and a careless babysitter, but once he steps into the silence of her floor the memories flood back into his mind. His knock on her door echoes through the hall, but it barely penetrates his mind. He’s forgotten that he did knock when she swings the door open and beckons him in, wiping tears from her face and forcing a smile.
“Sit,” she says, he does. He settles in on her couch, not bothering to remove his coat. She sits next to him, but he can feel the space she leaves between them. He looks over at her, watching closely as she shifts her legs underneath her and strategically wipes at her face again, but he can see that all that is left of her tears are their stains.
“What is it?” he asks, and his voice is much too soft for his liking. He wants to be crass, he wants to be angry, and he wants her to know what she put him through. But, he reminds himself again, she never promised you anything. He fights the thought, focusing his eyes so that the indifference he wants to feel is what she sees. Her eyes flicker to the floor and he knows he’s succeeded, but he falters for a moment at the thought that he could hurt her; but he has remedied his weakness before her eyes return to him.
“I don’t know,” she says, and he can hear the beginnings of sobs in her voice; but she’s strong and no tears come. “I just, we just,” she takes a deep breath, “it’s over. We’re over. And, Don, I don’t know why.” A hundred lines about office relationships run through his mind, but he pushes them away. As crass as he wants to be, he knows he’ll get nowhere if he mentions the obvious.
“Why did you call me?” he queries. It’s not what he wants to say, but it’s all he’ll allow himself. She stares at him for a minute, then her body begins to shake and the tears once again begin to fall. She leans against him, closing the void she had left between them, and he wraps his arms around her shoulders. He can feel his plan crumbling as her tears run down his neck.
“Lindsay,” he whispers, “I’m so sorry.” She shakes her head and sits up, but she stays next to him. Their legs are touching and it takes all of his self control to keep from laying a hand on her knee.
“You don’t have to say that, Don, it won’t solve anything,” she says, and try as he might he can’t suppress the smile at her realistic view of life; and she smiles, too. It is small, but it is real, and it makes him smile even more. It’s gone quickly, though, and his follows; soon she’s gazing off into space and he feels like he is no longer wanted, until her gaze falls on him again.
“Lindsay,” he says, cupping her cheek in his hand, “what is it?” She shakes her head and his hand falls once again to his side.
“Do you want something to drink?” she asks. She’s avoiding it, he knows, but he doesn’t say anything. He nods and follows her as she rises and goes to the kitchen. He lets his eyes wander around the apartment, taking in what has changed and what has remained the same since the last time he visited.
She had just moved into the building and he and Danny had helped her move in. Danny had had to leave soon after they’d finished, but he had been able to remain. She had offered him a beer, one out of the six-pack Danny had brought as a housewarming gift, and he had accepted. One beer, that was it, and it was enough to spark a conversation unlike any they had ever had.
They had talked about Montana and New York, comparing their respective childhoods; and he recalled setting his empty beer bottle on the kitchen counter and leaning towards her, their bodies pressed together in the small space. He had paused for protest, but she had leaned forwards the rest of the way to press their lips together.
He shakes his head as she hands him a beer, banishing the memories. She raises an eyebrow at him and he shrugs.
“Just water,” he says, though he does want the beer, and his mind returns to reminiscing. The night had escalated quickly, turning into a one night stand. He recalls the conversation they had the next morning, the promise that it would not affect their work or their friendship and the assurances that it was a one time thing.
But he had wanted something more, been hoping for it all the while; holding on to the possibility; until it had died with her relationship with Danny. All hope that that one night stand could turn into something more had been banished, but now here he is, standing in her kitchen with that selfish wish still hanging in the back of his mind.
“I’m sorry I dragged you here,” she says, breaking his reverie and handing him a glass of water. “I didn’t know who else to talk to.” He shakes his head as he takes the glass from her grasp and lifts it to his lips, stalling to think of a response.
“It’s all right,” he says, “I don’t mind.” And he doesn’t. His love for her has won, sending his anger at himself to the back alleys of his mind. He moves to stand beside her and lays an arm on her shoulders. She leans her head against his shoulder and sighs, sipping her beer. He sets his water aside and places a soft, platonic kiss on the top of her head.
“Tell me what happened,” he says, but she shakes her head.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she whispers. She looks up at him, and their faces are inches apart. He watches as she slowly leans towards him, lifting her face to his. The desire in him pushes him forward, but at the last minute he turns his head away and her lips fall on his cheek. She steps away from him and when he looks at her he sees the confusion in her eyes.
“What happened?” he asks again, it’s all he can say.
“Why does it matter?” she counters, echoing the question he had already asked himself.
“Because I don’t want this,” he says. “I don’t want to be back up, Lindsay.”
“What do you want?” she queries. He sighs.
“That doesn’t matter,” he says. “What matters is that I’m your friend and I’m here to listen.” She shakes her head and returns to the couch, he follows. He sits beside her, careful to leave the void between them, and places a hand on her shoulder.
“Just tell me.”
“He just. It’s not even that big a deal, I’m just. I’m over reacting,” she says, looking at him. Her eyes are cloudy, but the tears are done falling. He moves closer to her and once again embraces her.
“What happened?” he asks again, feeling annoyed at his repetitive questions.
“We broke up,” she says, and it’s followed by a curt laugh. “I sound like a teenager.”
“It’s allowed,” he says, and she glances at him.
“We just, had this big fight, you know?” she says, and he nods. “And then he said it would be better if we just went back to being friends.” He nods again.
“What did you say?” he asks.
“I said I didn’t know how well that would work, and he said that if it didn’t one of us would have to switch shifts,” she responds, blinking as a few lone tears trail down her cheeks. “I think that’s what got to me the most.”
“Probably would have done the same to me,” he says, and she smiles.
“Don’t want to leave the family, either, huh?” she asks and he smiles.
“What d’you say we watch a pointless movie?” he suggests. She shakes her head and leans against him, her legs tossed over the arm of the couch and her hands holding his arm across her stomach.
“Let’s just sit for awhile,” she says. She soon falls asleep, and he follows shortly after, a smile on his face.
