CSI: NY Fic: Kiss Me, I'm Irish - Chapter One [Flack/Stella]
I've been wanting to post this fic here since the other day but the site was inaccessible to me for some reason. Anyway, this is just a little fic in honor of St. Patrick's Day.
KISS ME, I’M IRISH
By mandy9578
Rating: FRT
Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters. I wish I did. I’m just borrowing them. Plus, I’m not making any money off of this. They belong to Anthony Zuiker, Jerry Bruckheimer and CBS.
Author’s Note: Kudos to feathergirl926 once again. This was borne out of a discussion about mixing alcohol, karaoke and the scrumptious Det. Don Flack, Jr. The muse was such a slave master with this one. I ended up getting to work late since I was busy tweaking this that I didn’t realize that time had flown by. LOL! I hope you enjoy reading this. I really had fun writing this one. Now, go read. LOL!
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Stella Bonasera was surveying the room around her. Here she was surrounded by her friends and co-workers. Having grown up an orphan, she considers them family. They were sitting in a VIP room of a karaoke joint called The Boombox, eating, drinking, laughing…Basically just enjoying St. Patrick’s Day. She could see that everyone was having a blast. She had invited them all more than a week ago and wouldn’t take no for an answer. So here they were. She suspected that they were quite afraid of what she’d do or say if they had refused her invitation.
Currently, Adam Ross was belting out (if you could call it that, more like screeching his way through the song actually) Danny Boy, rather awkwardly, looking over at Danny Messer, who was laughing so hard at Adam’s efforts. But clearly Adam was enjoying his time at the mic. Flack, Hawkes, Angell, Kendall, Lindsay, Sid and even Mac were cheering him on, laughing along with Danny as well.
“Hey Stel,” Mac Taylor turned to Stella, who was sitting beside him. “I’m glad you planned this whole ‘little outing’,” he continued.
“Well, I’m glad too. This sure is fun,” she replied.
“So karaoke, huh,” Mac asked since he hadn’t had the chance to really talk to her the whole day.
“Yeah…Ben, the manager here, is a friend of mine. We grew up together at the orphanage. He’d been inviting me since last year to check this place out. I kept telling him that I just don’t have the time. You know, with work and all,” she paused, taking a quick bite out of a Buffalo wing.
“So…he called about two weeks ago to say ‘hello’ and told me that I just had to come on over and finally see this place for myself,” she said, wiping her hand with a table napkin. “…To get him off my back, I finally caved in, telling him to reserve this room for us for tonight. So…tada! Here we are,” she said gaily, finally ending her little monologue.
Both Mac and Stella turned their attention to Adam, who had finally finished singing the last notes of Danny Boy, bowing theatrically to much laughter and applause.
Danny hollered from across the table, “Mac, it’s your turn.”
“No backing out now Mac,” Flack piped in, making everyone around the table laugh.
The former Marine stood up, smiled and laughed along as the first strains of Robert Palmer’s Simply Irresistible started playing on the speaker system. He grabbed the mic that Angell handed to him. He was giving them quite the show. Who knew Mac Taylor knows how to wind down and have a good time?
Looking across the table, Stella’s eyes met Flack’s and both had a moment. She was the first to look away, averting her eyes to the huge video screen where the lyrics to the song Mac was singing were on display. ‘Damn, Flack really looks gorgeous. He’s just too cute. Even that tie he’s wearing is adorable,’ Stella thought to herself.
Flack’s funky taste in ties was on full display today. He was wearing a Kelly green tie with shamrocks all over it, in honor of the occasion, to go with the black pinstripe suit he had on. Funny, how through the years of knowing Don, she always looked forward to seeing what tie he was wearing. It was kinda like a sport really, watching out for those fugly ties he so loves. She actually loves watching Flack. Period. It was so hard, keeping herself from ogling him. ‘He’s such a fine specimen of manhood really. Wait…Where did that come from,’ she wondered. Lately, she had been thinking more and more about Flack. She had all these emotions and feeling running riot within her regarding said blue-eyed Detective. They were actually quite confusing, to be honest.
“Hey Stel,” Flack said to her, startling her out of her reverie. She could feel a blush creeping up from her neck to her face, like she had just been caught doing something particularly naughty. “How come you’re not drinking? Don’t you realize what the occasion is,” he asked, a grin on his face. “Besides, you know how karaoke is sooo much more fun when alcohol is involved,” Flack continued, rather cheekily.
“Ah, Flack, the night is still young,” she answered, rather evasively, hoping that she wasn’t blushing.
“So…what’s your poison of choice, Ms. Bonasera,” he inquired, leaning forward to get a little closer to her, as close as the table keeping them apart would permit. “Since it’s St. Paddy’s Day and all, may I recommend the Guinness,” he said, making a show of lifting his glass in salute and taking a large gulp of the dark beverage. “…Or if you don’t want what I’m drinking, how about some Irish Car Bombs? I see it’s also on special tonight,” Flack said with a smile.
“What the heck,” Stella said. “I think I’ll try that Irish Car Bomb. Sounds interesting,” she continued.
Flack called out to the waiter on standby and ordered a round for everybody. Returning his attention to Stella, she quickly asked him, “So what exactly is an Irish Car Bomb?”
“Well, it’s got stout, preferably Guinness, Irish whiskey and some Irish cream. Most bars use Baileys for the Irish cream,” Flack rattled off.
“Why call it an Irish Car Bomb,” Stella asked, trying to keep Flack talking to her.
“The components of the drink are Irish. That’s a dead giveaway,” he said with a smile. “The car bomb part of the name refers to the car bombings the Provisional Irish Republican Army used notoriously during The Troubles. The thing about this drink is that you’ve got to drink it immediately. Otherwise it’ll curdle,” he went on.
“Wow, Flack. I’m impressed. You really know your Irish history. Don’tcha,” Stella said lightheartedly making Flack blush a bit in the process.
Flack was grinning like an idiot at Stella, looking now at the quite revealing green top she was wearing. ‘Damn…Stella really looks lovely in green. Really brings out her eyes. Oh Stella, aren’t you just the most amazing creature I’ve laid my eyes on,’ he thought to himself. He’s just been in love with her for the longest time. She just doesn’t have a clue about his feelings. He has yet to find the courage to even ask her out.
“Hey Flack,” Danny nudged him with an elbow to the rib, bringing him out of his trance-like state.
“Hey! Oww! That hurts, Danno,” Flack cried out.
“Oh don’t be such a baby, Flack! Your turn to sing,” Danny said teasingly, handing Flack the microphone.
“Who are you calling a baby, Messer,” he told Danny as he stood up, trying to sound menacing. “What am I singing,” he asked in an even tone, rubbing his hand over his rib, where Danny’s elbow had connected just moments before.
“Stel, what have you picked for our pretty boy here,” Danny said, addressing the curly-haired CSI.
“Ummm…The Scientist by Coldplay,” Stella replied with a smile.
“The Scientist? I love that song,” Angell, Kendall and Lindsay all chorused.
“Hear that, man,” Danny said to Flack. “The ladies love the song. So do us a favor and don’t butcher it, please,” Danny continued in a mocking tone.
“Haha, Messer. Very funny! Aren't you such the comedian? But since you said the magic word,” Flack retorted sarcastically. “And don’t call me a pretty boy,” he said rather indignantly. The snarky comeback, so typical of Flack, elicited much laughter from everyone.
Surprisingly, everyone in the room was blown away by Flack’s rendition of the song. The women were particularly impressed, saying he really had a good singing voice…That he could give Chris Martin a run for his money…Angell even went to say that he could probably quit his day job and be a rock star. ‘Who knew that Donald Flack, Jr. had such hidden talent,’ Stella thought to herself.
“Hear that Messer? They love my singing voice! I could be a rock star,” Flack said rather smugly. “I’d like to see ya top that,” throwing the gauntlet at his best friend with a smile to his face.
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Three Hours and Countless of Drinks Later…
It was closing in on midnight. The only ones remaining in the room were Flack, Danny and Stella. The others had left about thirty minutes earlier saying that they all had early shifts the next day. Stella remained since she was their hostess, so to speak, having invited everyone out here. On the other hand, Flack was just having too much fun. Plus, he didn’t want to leave without Stella. Danny, being the good friend that he was, remained for the sake of Flack. He could see that Flack was getting wasted and fast. Things could get really ugly.
Flack was hogging the microphone. The first strains of the song Danny had chosen for him starting to pick up.
♫ “Why is that sad look in your eyes? Why are you crying? Tell me now, tell me now. Tell me, why you're feelin' this way. I hate to see you so down, oh baby! Is it your heart? Oh, breakin' all in pieces. Makin' you cry. Makin' you feel blue. Is there anything that I can do?” ♫
Flack was looking intently over at Stella as he was singing the cheesy Kathy Troccoli song Messer had picked out for him. The lyrics to the song reminded him of the beautiful Detective. The song picked up again and Flack sang his heart out…
♫ “Why don't you tell me where it hurts now, baby?And I'll do my best to make it better. Yes, I'll do my best to make the tears all go away. Just tell me where it hurts...Now, tell me. And I’ll love you with a love so tender...And if you let me stay…I'll take all of the hurt away… Where are all those tears coming from? Why are they falling? Did somebody, somebody, somebody leave your heart in the cold? You just need somebody to hold so, baby. (Give me a chance)…To put back all the pieces…Take hold of your heart…Make it just like new…There's so many things that I can do.” ♫
Flack, never felt as vulnerable as he was feeling right now. He was still staring at Stella, wearing his heart on his sleeve. He was wondering what she was thinking, hoping he was somehow getting through to her. Danny really picked the perfect song, even if it was a tad bit cheesy.
‘Why is Flack looking at me like that? Do I have lipstick on my teeth? Nah, lipstick had been wiped off clean hours ago. Do I have Buffalo wings sauce on my face,’ she wondered. She was actually quite dense, chalking it up to Flack being really drunk and wasted. Then it suddenly hit her like a brick wall. ‘Oh shit! Shit! Shit! He’s singing about me,’ her inner voice was screaming at her.
Danny, on the other hand, was watching the scene unfold before him. His two friends were quite oblivious to his presence. He might as well be on the moon for crying out loud. Stella and Flack were now looking at each other intently. Danny felt like a voyeur, spying on an intimate moment between his two good friends.
Finally, the song had ended. Flack bolstered by Dutch courage blurted out at the top of his lungs, slurring his words, “I love you, Stella Bonasera! Kiss me, I’m Irish!” And then he promptly fainted, falling to the floor in a heap.
To Be Continued…
A/N 2: Yes, you may think I am cruel for leaving you hanging. LOL! Don’t worry, I’ve got the second chapter in the works, ready to be posted within a day or two. The title of the last song is Tell Me Where It Hurts which was composed by the very prolific songwriter Diane Warren. I don’t own the song either. Haha, Heather, for the life of me, I couldn’t think of another cheesy love song. So I had to go with this Kathy Troccoli song. Some of the events here were inspired by real life! LOL! Oh and please don’t forget to leave me a review. Go push that comment button. LOL! No really, I would love to read what you think of this fic so far.
KISS ME, I’M IRISH
By mandy9578
Rating: FRT
Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters. I wish I did. I’m just borrowing them. Plus, I’m not making any money off of this. They belong to Anthony Zuiker, Jerry Bruckheimer and CBS.
Author’s Note: Kudos to feathergirl926 once again. This was borne out of a discussion about mixing alcohol, karaoke and the scrumptious Det. Don Flack, Jr. The muse was such a slave master with this one. I ended up getting to work late since I was busy tweaking this that I didn’t realize that time had flown by. LOL! I hope you enjoy reading this. I really had fun writing this one. Now, go read. LOL!
88888888
88888888
Stella Bonasera was surveying the room around her. Here she was surrounded by her friends and co-workers. Having grown up an orphan, she considers them family. They were sitting in a VIP room of a karaoke joint called The Boombox, eating, drinking, laughing…Basically just enjoying St. Patrick’s Day. She could see that everyone was having a blast. She had invited them all more than a week ago and wouldn’t take no for an answer. So here they were. She suspected that they were quite afraid of what she’d do or say if they had refused her invitation.
Currently, Adam Ross was belting out (if you could call it that, more like screeching his way through the song actually) Danny Boy, rather awkwardly, looking over at Danny Messer, who was laughing so hard at Adam’s efforts. But clearly Adam was enjoying his time at the mic. Flack, Hawkes, Angell, Kendall, Lindsay, Sid and even Mac were cheering him on, laughing along with Danny as well.
“Hey Stel,” Mac Taylor turned to Stella, who was sitting beside him. “I’m glad you planned this whole ‘little outing’,” he continued.
“Well, I’m glad too. This sure is fun,” she replied.
“So karaoke, huh,” Mac asked since he hadn’t had the chance to really talk to her the whole day.
“Yeah…Ben, the manager here, is a friend of mine. We grew up together at the orphanage. He’d been inviting me since last year to check this place out. I kept telling him that I just don’t have the time. You know, with work and all,” she paused, taking a quick bite out of a Buffalo wing.
“So…he called about two weeks ago to say ‘hello’ and told me that I just had to come on over and finally see this place for myself,” she said, wiping her hand with a table napkin. “…To get him off my back, I finally caved in, telling him to reserve this room for us for tonight. So…tada! Here we are,” she said gaily, finally ending her little monologue.
Both Mac and Stella turned their attention to Adam, who had finally finished singing the last notes of Danny Boy, bowing theatrically to much laughter and applause.
Danny hollered from across the table, “Mac, it’s your turn.”
“No backing out now Mac,” Flack piped in, making everyone around the table laugh.
The former Marine stood up, smiled and laughed along as the first strains of Robert Palmer’s Simply Irresistible started playing on the speaker system. He grabbed the mic that Angell handed to him. He was giving them quite the show. Who knew Mac Taylor knows how to wind down and have a good time?
Looking across the table, Stella’s eyes met Flack’s and both had a moment. She was the first to look away, averting her eyes to the huge video screen where the lyrics to the song Mac was singing were on display. ‘Damn, Flack really looks gorgeous. He’s just too cute. Even that tie he’s wearing is adorable,’ Stella thought to herself.
Flack’s funky taste in ties was on full display today. He was wearing a Kelly green tie with shamrocks all over it, in honor of the occasion, to go with the black pinstripe suit he had on. Funny, how through the years of knowing Don, she always looked forward to seeing what tie he was wearing. It was kinda like a sport really, watching out for those fugly ties he so loves. She actually loves watching Flack. Period. It was so hard, keeping herself from ogling him. ‘He’s such a fine specimen of manhood really. Wait…Where did that come from,’ she wondered. Lately, she had been thinking more and more about Flack. She had all these emotions and feeling running riot within her regarding said blue-eyed Detective. They were actually quite confusing, to be honest.
“Hey Stel,” Flack said to her, startling her out of her reverie. She could feel a blush creeping up from her neck to her face, like she had just been caught doing something particularly naughty. “How come you’re not drinking? Don’t you realize what the occasion is,” he asked, a grin on his face. “Besides, you know how karaoke is sooo much more fun when alcohol is involved,” Flack continued, rather cheekily.
“Ah, Flack, the night is still young,” she answered, rather evasively, hoping that she wasn’t blushing.
“So…what’s your poison of choice, Ms. Bonasera,” he inquired, leaning forward to get a little closer to her, as close as the table keeping them apart would permit. “Since it’s St. Paddy’s Day and all, may I recommend the Guinness,” he said, making a show of lifting his glass in salute and taking a large gulp of the dark beverage. “…Or if you don’t want what I’m drinking, how about some Irish Car Bombs? I see it’s also on special tonight,” Flack said with a smile.
“What the heck,” Stella said. “I think I’ll try that Irish Car Bomb. Sounds interesting,” she continued.
Flack called out to the waiter on standby and ordered a round for everybody. Returning his attention to Stella, she quickly asked him, “So what exactly is an Irish Car Bomb?”
“Well, it’s got stout, preferably Guinness, Irish whiskey and some Irish cream. Most bars use Baileys for the Irish cream,” Flack rattled off.
“Why call it an Irish Car Bomb,” Stella asked, trying to keep Flack talking to her.
“The components of the drink are Irish. That’s a dead giveaway,” he said with a smile. “The car bomb part of the name refers to the car bombings the Provisional Irish Republican Army used notoriously during The Troubles. The thing about this drink is that you’ve got to drink it immediately. Otherwise it’ll curdle,” he went on.
“Wow, Flack. I’m impressed. You really know your Irish history. Don’tcha,” Stella said lightheartedly making Flack blush a bit in the process.
Flack was grinning like an idiot at Stella, looking now at the quite revealing green top she was wearing. ‘Damn…Stella really looks lovely in green. Really brings out her eyes. Oh Stella, aren’t you just the most amazing creature I’ve laid my eyes on,’ he thought to himself. He’s just been in love with her for the longest time. She just doesn’t have a clue about his feelings. He has yet to find the courage to even ask her out.
“Hey Flack,” Danny nudged him with an elbow to the rib, bringing him out of his trance-like state.
“Hey! Oww! That hurts, Danno,” Flack cried out.
“Oh don’t be such a baby, Flack! Your turn to sing,” Danny said teasingly, handing Flack the microphone.
“Who are you calling a baby, Messer,” he told Danny as he stood up, trying to sound menacing. “What am I singing,” he asked in an even tone, rubbing his hand over his rib, where Danny’s elbow had connected just moments before.
“Stel, what have you picked for our pretty boy here,” Danny said, addressing the curly-haired CSI.
“Ummm…The Scientist by Coldplay,” Stella replied with a smile.
“The Scientist? I love that song,” Angell, Kendall and Lindsay all chorused.
“Hear that, man,” Danny said to Flack. “The ladies love the song. So do us a favor and don’t butcher it, please,” Danny continued in a mocking tone.
“Haha, Messer. Very funny! Aren't you such the comedian? But since you said the magic word,” Flack retorted sarcastically. “And don’t call me a pretty boy,” he said rather indignantly. The snarky comeback, so typical of Flack, elicited much laughter from everyone.
Surprisingly, everyone in the room was blown away by Flack’s rendition of the song. The women were particularly impressed, saying he really had a good singing voice…That he could give Chris Martin a run for his money…Angell even went to say that he could probably quit his day job and be a rock star. ‘Who knew that Donald Flack, Jr. had such hidden talent,’ Stella thought to herself.
“Hear that Messer? They love my singing voice! I could be a rock star,” Flack said rather smugly. “I’d like to see ya top that,” throwing the gauntlet at his best friend with a smile to his face.
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Three Hours and Countless of Drinks Later…
It was closing in on midnight. The only ones remaining in the room were Flack, Danny and Stella. The others had left about thirty minutes earlier saying that they all had early shifts the next day. Stella remained since she was their hostess, so to speak, having invited everyone out here. On the other hand, Flack was just having too much fun. Plus, he didn’t want to leave without Stella. Danny, being the good friend that he was, remained for the sake of Flack. He could see that Flack was getting wasted and fast. Things could get really ugly.
Flack was hogging the microphone. The first strains of the song Danny had chosen for him starting to pick up.
♫ “Why is that sad look in your eyes? Why are you crying? Tell me now, tell me now. Tell me, why you're feelin' this way. I hate to see you so down, oh baby! Is it your heart? Oh, breakin' all in pieces. Makin' you cry. Makin' you feel blue. Is there anything that I can do?” ♫
Flack was looking intently over at Stella as he was singing the cheesy Kathy Troccoli song Messer had picked out for him. The lyrics to the song reminded him of the beautiful Detective. The song picked up again and Flack sang his heart out…
♫ “Why don't you tell me where it hurts now, baby?And I'll do my best to make it better. Yes, I'll do my best to make the tears all go away. Just tell me where it hurts...Now, tell me. And I’ll love you with a love so tender...And if you let me stay…I'll take all of the hurt away… Where are all those tears coming from? Why are they falling? Did somebody, somebody, somebody leave your heart in the cold? You just need somebody to hold so, baby. (Give me a chance)…To put back all the pieces…Take hold of your heart…Make it just like new…There's so many things that I can do.” ♫
Flack, never felt as vulnerable as he was feeling right now. He was still staring at Stella, wearing his heart on his sleeve. He was wondering what she was thinking, hoping he was somehow getting through to her. Danny really picked the perfect song, even if it was a tad bit cheesy.
‘Why is Flack looking at me like that? Do I have lipstick on my teeth? Nah, lipstick had been wiped off clean hours ago. Do I have Buffalo wings sauce on my face,’ she wondered. She was actually quite dense, chalking it up to Flack being really drunk and wasted. Then it suddenly hit her like a brick wall. ‘Oh shit! Shit! Shit! He’s singing about me,’ her inner voice was screaming at her.
Danny, on the other hand, was watching the scene unfold before him. His two friends were quite oblivious to his presence. He might as well be on the moon for crying out loud. Stella and Flack were now looking at each other intently. Danny felt like a voyeur, spying on an intimate moment between his two good friends.
Finally, the song had ended. Flack bolstered by Dutch courage blurted out at the top of his lungs, slurring his words, “I love you, Stella Bonasera! Kiss me, I’m Irish!” And then he promptly fainted, falling to the floor in a heap.
To Be Continued…
A/N 2: Yes, you may think I am cruel for leaving you hanging. LOL! Don’t worry, I’ve got the second chapter in the works, ready to be posted within a day or two. The title of the last song is Tell Me Where It Hurts which was composed by the very prolific songwriter Diane Warren. I don’t own the song either. Haha, Heather, for the life of me, I couldn’t think of another cheesy love song. So I had to go with this Kathy Troccoli song. Some of the events here were inspired by real life! LOL! Oh and please don’t forget to leave me a review. Go push that comment button. LOL! No really, I would love to read what you think of this fic so far.