"Mare Clausum" // Dimgwrthien714
Title: Mare Clausum
Author: Dimgwrthien714
Fandom: CSI: NY
Pairing: Mac/OC, hints of Mac/Stella
Word Count: ~1100
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Five moments.
One: Ab initio
There's something appealing in chemistry, even as early as high school. Mac studies the chapters in the book, ignoring anything the teacher says to them. There's a picture of a motorcycle, and he looks past the chrome, the appeal of the danger and speed and sex that's always associated with it. His mind wraps around the image, recognizing only the electrochemistry that came from the item.
He listens for only a moment, trying to understand where they were in the book. The teacher mentions eels, and Mac turns to the correct page, keeping one finger in the page where he had been. It'd be something to look at later, maybe after he had gotten home and finished the football game he promised his friends. Science could be his secret pleasure, and his image could be something else by itself.
Two: Neutiquam erro
There are smells around the room, some that Mac can't quite recognize. Smoke, alcohol, a slight twinge of vomit in there, the everlasting smell of love and sex predominating. He doesn't even pay attention to the girl he's with. This late in the night, his brain foggy from beer, he can barely remember her name or if he'll go home with her in the morning.
Her hair is black and short, mussed up. Her only notices the half-lidded grey eyes and the wet lips. She kisses him hard and fast, keeping him pinned against the wall tight. Her movements are rapid, slowly peeling off his shirt and unbuttoning hers amid the crowd. No one there is sober enough to realize what anyone else is doing, much less the two darkened figures in a smoky haze who don't have enough coordination to even keep their lips straight on each others.
She slips slightly, smiling as she regains her composure and continued to kiss him. Mac can feel something inside of him, though he can't place the emotion for a few minutes. He only kisses her back, knowing that his lips will be bruised and bleeding before she lets up.
He hears a cheer from the fraternity, though he can't see why they are. It's a drunken cheer, followed by the crashing of furniture. Mac takes in a breath, tasting and smelling the cigarette smoke on the girl. Shutting his eyes, he pushes her away and stumbles along the wall until he finds the door.
The cold night air is sweet on his sweaty skin, though the sounds of the cheers don't quite leave him.
Three: Ubi Concordia
Before the wedding, Mac fixes his bow and suit, making sure everything is straight and crisp and clean. Uncleanliness and vulnerability go hand in hand, he's learned over the years, and it's drilled into his head. He doesn't look away from the mirror until he hears a voice and turns. Claire stands in the doorway, her slip on but the wedding dress missing. The image doesn't seem right to Mac. Her makeup in on and her hair is curled into a bun, but it all seems out of place.
She asks him a simple question, one that he had asked himself over and over again the previous night. It had been their one night apart in months, and Mac wasn't sure if he had enjoyed it. There were too many questions that night, and more so when Claire wasn't around.
Mac's answer is short, to the point, but it takes him an eternity to say it to her. She gives him her crooked smile, the one he had fallen in love with, then kisses him. Mac relishes the moment, then asks her where the dress is.
Claire smiles again and points out the door. There are people walking around, talking, preparing for the wedding. She answers it's bad luck and she couldn't deal with a bad answer from him.
Mac smiles, grabs the dress, and helps her into it. At her face, he tells her Fuck Bad Luck.
Four: Qvalis pater talis filivs
Mac watches death for a living, but the knowledge of family dying isn't quite the same as finding a maggot-covered corpse of someone who may have been a criminal themselves. He listens on the phone, his eyes concentrated on the thermostat. It's winter, and it's cold. There always seemed to be something appealing about dying in the winter. Decomposition changes, and it's one of the most interesting things he's ever witnessed.
And then there's the knowledge that your funeral arrangements are planned on Christmas morning.
He sits down in a chair that's low enough that he doesn't have to look at Claire or her sister or his niece and nephew. Mac closes his eyes, ignoring the rest of the words that the doctor said, and found himself already planning his father's funeral. It would be January, late enough that the snow had melted away, but not quite late enough to see the first flowers of the new year.
Five: In absentia
When the army is divided, the missing must be replaced. Another thing drilled into Mac's head after years in the Marines swims back into his mind as he turns on his computer and prepares to type up another report. He wonders how many he had written in his life, whether they would all create a book as long as the dictionary if he dug all of the files out and put them together. They had become routine after repetitions in his years at the crime lab.
He doesn't even finish writing an entire page when Stella enters the office with Flack behind her. He putt on a heavy jacket as she smiles at Mac.
"We're going out for drinks. Interested?"
Mac finishes typing a sentence and watches them for a second. He's ready to reject, saying how many cases he has to finish, but he can't remember the last time he went out with the team.
Stella puts a hand over the files and moves them further away from him. Mac watches her hand now. "If you come with us, I'll write up half of these reports for you."
He bites his cheek, looking at the blinking cursor. The reports together had to make at least three dictionaries by now.
Flack finishes buttoning his jacket. He looks like he's suffocating in it, and Mac realizes that he can't remember the temperature outside. Was it that cold again?
"I'll do the other half," Flack offers. "As long as we hurry up. I'm starving."
Mac smiles and tidies the cases, making the edges of each folder even before he grabs his coat. Stella puts an arm around him as they leave.
Author: Dimgwrthien714
Fandom: CSI: NY
Pairing: Mac/OC, hints of Mac/Stella
Word Count: ~1100
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Five moments.
One: Ab initio
There's something appealing in chemistry, even as early as high school. Mac studies the chapters in the book, ignoring anything the teacher says to them. There's a picture of a motorcycle, and he looks past the chrome, the appeal of the danger and speed and sex that's always associated with it. His mind wraps around the image, recognizing only the electrochemistry that came from the item.
He listens for only a moment, trying to understand where they were in the book. The teacher mentions eels, and Mac turns to the correct page, keeping one finger in the page where he had been. It'd be something to look at later, maybe after he had gotten home and finished the football game he promised his friends. Science could be his secret pleasure, and his image could be something else by itself.
Two: Neutiquam erro
There are smells around the room, some that Mac can't quite recognize. Smoke, alcohol, a slight twinge of vomit in there, the everlasting smell of love and sex predominating. He doesn't even pay attention to the girl he's with. This late in the night, his brain foggy from beer, he can barely remember her name or if he'll go home with her in the morning.
Her hair is black and short, mussed up. Her only notices the half-lidded grey eyes and the wet lips. She kisses him hard and fast, keeping him pinned against the wall tight. Her movements are rapid, slowly peeling off his shirt and unbuttoning hers amid the crowd. No one there is sober enough to realize what anyone else is doing, much less the two darkened figures in a smoky haze who don't have enough coordination to even keep their lips straight on each others.
She slips slightly, smiling as she regains her composure and continued to kiss him. Mac can feel something inside of him, though he can't place the emotion for a few minutes. He only kisses her back, knowing that his lips will be bruised and bleeding before she lets up.
He hears a cheer from the fraternity, though he can't see why they are. It's a drunken cheer, followed by the crashing of furniture. Mac takes in a breath, tasting and smelling the cigarette smoke on the girl. Shutting his eyes, he pushes her away and stumbles along the wall until he finds the door.
The cold night air is sweet on his sweaty skin, though the sounds of the cheers don't quite leave him.
Three: Ubi Concordia
Before the wedding, Mac fixes his bow and suit, making sure everything is straight and crisp and clean. Uncleanliness and vulnerability go hand in hand, he's learned over the years, and it's drilled into his head. He doesn't look away from the mirror until he hears a voice and turns. Claire stands in the doorway, her slip on but the wedding dress missing. The image doesn't seem right to Mac. Her makeup in on and her hair is curled into a bun, but it all seems out of place.
She asks him a simple question, one that he had asked himself over and over again the previous night. It had been their one night apart in months, and Mac wasn't sure if he had enjoyed it. There were too many questions that night, and more so when Claire wasn't around.
Mac's answer is short, to the point, but it takes him an eternity to say it to her. She gives him her crooked smile, the one he had fallen in love with, then kisses him. Mac relishes the moment, then asks her where the dress is.
Claire smiles again and points out the door. There are people walking around, talking, preparing for the wedding. She answers it's bad luck and she couldn't deal with a bad answer from him.
Mac smiles, grabs the dress, and helps her into it. At her face, he tells her Fuck Bad Luck.
Four: Qvalis pater talis filivs
Mac watches death for a living, but the knowledge of family dying isn't quite the same as finding a maggot-covered corpse of someone who may have been a criminal themselves. He listens on the phone, his eyes concentrated on the thermostat. It's winter, and it's cold. There always seemed to be something appealing about dying in the winter. Decomposition changes, and it's one of the most interesting things he's ever witnessed.
And then there's the knowledge that your funeral arrangements are planned on Christmas morning.
He sits down in a chair that's low enough that he doesn't have to look at Claire or her sister or his niece and nephew. Mac closes his eyes, ignoring the rest of the words that the doctor said, and found himself already planning his father's funeral. It would be January, late enough that the snow had melted away, but not quite late enough to see the first flowers of the new year.
Five: In absentia
When the army is divided, the missing must be replaced. Another thing drilled into Mac's head after years in the Marines swims back into his mind as he turns on his computer and prepares to type up another report. He wonders how many he had written in his life, whether they would all create a book as long as the dictionary if he dug all of the files out and put them together. They had become routine after repetitions in his years at the crime lab.
He doesn't even finish writing an entire page when Stella enters the office with Flack behind her. He putt on a heavy jacket as she smiles at Mac.
"We're going out for drinks. Interested?"
Mac finishes typing a sentence and watches them for a second. He's ready to reject, saying how many cases he has to finish, but he can't remember the last time he went out with the team.
Stella puts a hand over the files and moves them further away from him. Mac watches her hand now. "If you come with us, I'll write up half of these reports for you."
He bites his cheek, looking at the blinking cursor. The reports together had to make at least three dictionaries by now.
Flack finishes buttoning his jacket. He looks like he's suffocating in it, and Mac realizes that he can't remember the temperature outside. Was it that cold again?
"I'll do the other half," Flack offers. "As long as we hurry up. I'm starving."
Mac smiles and tidies the cases, making the edges of each folder even before he grabs his coat. Stella puts an arm around him as they leave.