CSI: NY Fic: Kiss Me, I'm Irish - Chapter Two [Flack/Stella]
Here's the second chapter of my latest Flack/Stella fic. It's called Kiss Me, I'm Irish.
Disclaimer: You know the drill. I don’t own the characters. Well, Ben is mine. That’s it really.
Rating: FRT
Author’s Note: As promised, here is the second chapter. I know many of you were left hanging at the end of the last chapter but it would have been less exciting if I didn’t end it there. LOL! Anyway, thank you for all your wonderful reviews. I’m glad you guys got a kick out of the first chapter. LOL! So, here’s the second. Read on…
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Chapter Two
Flack was now lying on the floor, unconscious. Stella and Danny were momentarily dumbfounded by what had just happened. It was so surreal. One moment Flack was singing his heart out, declaring his love for Stella and then the next he was out cold.
“Stella,” Danny called out to her, snapping her out of the shock of what had just transpired, killing the buzz she had from the alcohol.
“What the hell just happened, Danny,” Stella asked.
“Shit, Stel! I had a feeling something ugly was coming down and I don’t mean literally,” pointing to Flack on the floor. “Nice way to yank me from the buzz I was enjoying, by the way,” Danny said.
“What? You knew something like this was gonna happen,” she looked at him and then made her way to their side of the room.
“Well, Flack here had the most to drink,” he said, crouching over his friend, checking for a pulse. “I think he’s had about seven or eight pints of Guinness. As for those Irish Car Bombs, I don’t know how many he’s had. That’s why I decided to stay around. I just had a bad feeling, is all! Ah stupid man! Went overboard again,” Danny said, reassured that Flack was still breathing. “Help me get him seated, Stel. I’ll go call for help,” he continued as Stella helped him seat Flack on a chair. She put her hands on his head, checking it out for bumps.
“Go look for Ben, the manager. Tell him you’re a friend of mine…And tell him to bring in an ice pack. Flack here is gonna need it,” she replied. “He’s got a nasty bump on the back of his head…And go call a cab! Oh and please tell Ben to give me a couple of plastic bags or if he’s got none, a pail he could spare,” she said to Danny in an authoritative voice.
“Okay,” Danny hollered on his way out of the room to fetch Ben and do as she asked.
‘Oh poor baby,’ Stella thought. ‘He finally has the courage to tell me he loves me and he promptly passes out. Just my luck! Shit! Was he even serious,’ doubts nagging at her.
“Hey Stella,” Ben said, entering the room. “Here,” he continued, handing her something cold.
“What the hell is this, Benny? A pack of frozen wieners,” she asked, looking at him incredulously, trying so hard not to laugh.
“Well…As you know we close at midnight. Last orders were 15 minutes ago. We’ve run out of ice, it being St. Paddy’s Day, ya know. I thought we had stocked more than enough. Guess I was wrong. It’s the best I could come up with,” he said sheepishly. “Here,” he said, handing her a dish towel. “wrap those dogs with that,” he continued.
“This is sooo surreal,” Stella chuckled, putting the pack of frozen wieners on the bump on Flack’s head. “This is…just…laughable,” she continued.
“What happened,” Ben asked her, as he handed her the plastic bags. Stella knew the bags would come in handy.
“Well, I think Flack here just had too much to drink,” she told him, deliberately leaving out the love declaration part. Flack was now moaning and mumbling incoherently about his mother. “Hey Ben, about the bill,” she went on.
“Nah, don’t worry about it, gorgeous,” he said kindly. “Consider it my treat. After all, I’m the one who’s been insisting that you come here and look what happened,” he said, gesturing towards Flack.
“Thanks Ben. Really. I appreciate it. Tonight was really fun. Well…except for this part,” she said, looking intently at Flack as she hovered over his slumped form.
“Hey Stel,” Danny said, returning to the room. “The cab’s here. How is he,” he asked, while he and Ben helped Flack up.
“I think he was asking for his Mama,” she said, holding on to the makeshift ‘ice pack’.
“What? Flack here was asking for his mother,” Danny questioned with a grunt. Flack was really heavy, having such a tall frame.
“That’s what it sounded to me,” Stella replied humorously, following them out of the room.
“Such a Mama’s boy,” Danny snorted while Ben merely chuckled.
They had finally helped Flack into the cab, placing him in the middle, in between Stella and Danny. After saying their thanks to Ben, the cab finally drove off.
“Where to, lady,” the cabbie asked.
“New York-Presbyterian, please,” she said. “We have to have him checked out,” she looked over at Danny. “That bump looks nasty,” Stella continued.
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Stella was right. A plastic bag did come in handy. Flack vomited several times during the cab ride to the hospital, soiling his suit when he missed the plastic bag once. Stella’s nurturing instinct kicked in and she wiped his face and suit with some Kleenex she kept in her purse. In between sessions of vomiting, Flack kept on harking about how he loved Stella. Danny quite amused with his best friend’s antics, responded by saying, “Yeah Flack. We heard ya loud and clear!”
At the ER, the attending physician examined Flack. He was so amused with the whole ‘wiener ice pack.’ He told them something about how St. Patrick’s Day brings a lot of revelers into his ER. Taking pity on Flack, the doctor asked a nurse to provide him with a real, genuine ice pack. Flack, by this time, was more or less alert, and answered the doctor’s questions quite coherently, if rather groggily.
Stella talked with the doctor while Danny helped Don sit in the waiting room. “He’s fine. He just had too much to drink. Don’t forget to give him lots of fluids. If you’ve got Gatorade, that would be extremely helpful in combating the dehydration. For the pain, just give him some extra-strength Tylenol when needed,” the doctor advised. “As for that bruise, continue to put an ice pack on it,” he said with a smile on his face, the wiener pack still fresh in his memory. “As a precaution, make sure he sleeps on his side to prevent choking if ever he vomits again,” the physician droned on.
“Thanks Doctor, I really appreciate it,” Stella said graciously.
“No problem, Detective,” he replied. “…Oh and don’t forget the wieners,” he said in an amused tone, handing Stella the now-melting wieners.
Stella grinned, “Uuhhh, thanks again, Doc.”
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Before heading to Don’s apartment, they had passed by a convenience store where Danny bought what the doctor recommended while Stella waited in the cab with the now sleeping Flack. After what seemed like forever they soon arrived at Flack’s apartment complex. Stella woke Flack up reluctantly, saying that they had arrived at his place.
Finally inside the apartment after what seemed like ages, Stella and Danny helped Flack into his bedroom. Danny held onto the sleepy Flack while Stella turned down the covers. Danny brought Flack down onto the bed.
“Danny, help me remove his tie and suit. It stinks and I’m sure Flack wouldn’t appreciate waking up to that smell,” Stella said, wrinkling her nose. So they stripped Flack down to his boxers and wifebeater. ‘Shit. Many times have I fantasized seeing Flack in his boxers but never like this. Not under this kind of circumstance. Gee, he’s passed out and oblivious to my presence,’ she thought wryly.
They had positioned Flack on the bed just like what the doctor told her. “Hey Danny,” she piped up. “I think I’ll stay the night here, on the couch,” she continued.
“Stel, are you sure? This is the first time I’ve seen Flack this drunk. I mean I could stay here with the knucklehead if you like,” Danny volunteered.
“Nah, it’s okay Danny. It was my idea to invite you guys out for St. Patrick’s Day, so it’s just fitting that I remain here to nurse Flack through this,” Stella answered. “Anyway, don’t you have an early shift tomorrow,” she asked him.
“Yeah, I do,” Danny said.
“Besides, I think Flack and I need to talk about what happened,” Stella told him.
“Okay Stel. Just call me if you need anything,” he said, making his way to the front door. “Oh and don’t forget to tell me what happens when he wakes up. I want all the juicy details,” Danny said cheekily.
“I’m sure whatever happens here you’ll find out one way or another. Oh and Danny…just keep everything on the down low for now. I don’t think Flack would like it if everyone found out what happened over at The Boombox before we’ve even had the chance to talk properly,” Stella told him. “Okay? If I hear rumors swirling about this," she paused dramatically. "Just so you know, I'll know it was you who started it and I’ll hunt you down, Messer. That's a promise,” she said humorously.
“Don’t worry about it Stel, I won’t tell a soul. Scout’s honor,” he replied, finally closing the door behind him. “Oh Stel, don’t forget to lock up,” he yelled from outside, finally leaving Stella alone.
Stella marched into Flack’s bedroom. Don was now snoring loudly. She picked up the suit and tie Flack was just wearing moments ago. She made her way to the other side of the room and entered the bathroom, placing the clothes into the hamper. Then, she got a washcloth from the shelves that stocked bathroom linen. Looking for a basin, she checked in the cabinet under the sink, finding it there, she took it out. She filled the basin with water and alcohol she got from the medicine cabinet in front of her. She placed the washcloth in the basin.
Carrying the basin into the bedroom, she made her way to Don’s side, sitting on the bed, beside him. She placed the basin on the night table, took out the washcloth and squeezed out the water. She wiped his face first and proceeded with his arms and legs. While she was doing this, Flack kept mumbling, “I love you, Stel!” But clearly he was asleep and unconscious. ‘Ah, Flack…I love you too,’ Stella thought to herself.
Finished with her task, she cleaned up the bathroom. Once inside the bedroom again, she rolled down the blinds. She knew that sunlight would be a bitch for someone with a nasty hangover. Finally making her way out of the bedroom, she shut off the lights in Flack’s room. Murmuring, “Sweet dreams, Donnie,” Stella closed the bedroom door gently.
To Be Continued…
A/N 2: You’ve finally reached the end of this chapter. So how was it? I really would love to know what you think of this one. Again, some events were based on real life. Please push that comment button! Go! Push it! LOL!
Disclaimer: You know the drill. I don’t own the characters. Well, Ben is mine. That’s it really.
Rating: FRT
Author’s Note: As promised, here is the second chapter. I know many of you were left hanging at the end of the last chapter but it would have been less exciting if I didn’t end it there. LOL! Anyway, thank you for all your wonderful reviews. I’m glad you guys got a kick out of the first chapter. LOL! So, here’s the second. Read on…
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Chapter Two
Flack was now lying on the floor, unconscious. Stella and Danny were momentarily dumbfounded by what had just happened. It was so surreal. One moment Flack was singing his heart out, declaring his love for Stella and then the next he was out cold.
“Stella,” Danny called out to her, snapping her out of the shock of what had just transpired, killing the buzz she had from the alcohol.
“What the hell just happened, Danny,” Stella asked.
“Shit, Stel! I had a feeling something ugly was coming down and I don’t mean literally,” pointing to Flack on the floor. “Nice way to yank me from the buzz I was enjoying, by the way,” Danny said.
“What? You knew something like this was gonna happen,” she looked at him and then made her way to their side of the room.
“Well, Flack here had the most to drink,” he said, crouching over his friend, checking for a pulse. “I think he’s had about seven or eight pints of Guinness. As for those Irish Car Bombs, I don’t know how many he’s had. That’s why I decided to stay around. I just had a bad feeling, is all! Ah stupid man! Went overboard again,” Danny said, reassured that Flack was still breathing. “Help me get him seated, Stel. I’ll go call for help,” he continued as Stella helped him seat Flack on a chair. She put her hands on his head, checking it out for bumps.
“Go look for Ben, the manager. Tell him you’re a friend of mine…And tell him to bring in an ice pack. Flack here is gonna need it,” she replied. “He’s got a nasty bump on the back of his head…And go call a cab! Oh and please tell Ben to give me a couple of plastic bags or if he’s got none, a pail he could spare,” she said to Danny in an authoritative voice.
“Okay,” Danny hollered on his way out of the room to fetch Ben and do as she asked.
‘Oh poor baby,’ Stella thought. ‘He finally has the courage to tell me he loves me and he promptly passes out. Just my luck! Shit! Was he even serious,’ doubts nagging at her.
“Hey Stella,” Ben said, entering the room. “Here,” he continued, handing her something cold.
“What the hell is this, Benny? A pack of frozen wieners,” she asked, looking at him incredulously, trying so hard not to laugh.
“Well…As you know we close at midnight. Last orders were 15 minutes ago. We’ve run out of ice, it being St. Paddy’s Day, ya know. I thought we had stocked more than enough. Guess I was wrong. It’s the best I could come up with,” he said sheepishly. “Here,” he said, handing her a dish towel. “wrap those dogs with that,” he continued.
“This is sooo surreal,” Stella chuckled, putting the pack of frozen wieners on the bump on Flack’s head. “This is…just…laughable,” she continued.
“What happened,” Ben asked her, as he handed her the plastic bags. Stella knew the bags would come in handy.
“Well, I think Flack here just had too much to drink,” she told him, deliberately leaving out the love declaration part. Flack was now moaning and mumbling incoherently about his mother. “Hey Ben, about the bill,” she went on.
“Nah, don’t worry about it, gorgeous,” he said kindly. “Consider it my treat. After all, I’m the one who’s been insisting that you come here and look what happened,” he said, gesturing towards Flack.
“Thanks Ben. Really. I appreciate it. Tonight was really fun. Well…except for this part,” she said, looking intently at Flack as she hovered over his slumped form.
“Hey Stel,” Danny said, returning to the room. “The cab’s here. How is he,” he asked, while he and Ben helped Flack up.
“I think he was asking for his Mama,” she said, holding on to the makeshift ‘ice pack’.
“What? Flack here was asking for his mother,” Danny questioned with a grunt. Flack was really heavy, having such a tall frame.
“That’s what it sounded to me,” Stella replied humorously, following them out of the room.
“Such a Mama’s boy,” Danny snorted while Ben merely chuckled.
They had finally helped Flack into the cab, placing him in the middle, in between Stella and Danny. After saying their thanks to Ben, the cab finally drove off.
“Where to, lady,” the cabbie asked.
“New York-Presbyterian, please,” she said. “We have to have him checked out,” she looked over at Danny. “That bump looks nasty,” Stella continued.
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Stella was right. A plastic bag did come in handy. Flack vomited several times during the cab ride to the hospital, soiling his suit when he missed the plastic bag once. Stella’s nurturing instinct kicked in and she wiped his face and suit with some Kleenex she kept in her purse. In between sessions of vomiting, Flack kept on harking about how he loved Stella. Danny quite amused with his best friend’s antics, responded by saying, “Yeah Flack. We heard ya loud and clear!”
At the ER, the attending physician examined Flack. He was so amused with the whole ‘wiener ice pack.’ He told them something about how St. Patrick’s Day brings a lot of revelers into his ER. Taking pity on Flack, the doctor asked a nurse to provide him with a real, genuine ice pack. Flack, by this time, was more or less alert, and answered the doctor’s questions quite coherently, if rather groggily.
Stella talked with the doctor while Danny helped Don sit in the waiting room. “He’s fine. He just had too much to drink. Don’t forget to give him lots of fluids. If you’ve got Gatorade, that would be extremely helpful in combating the dehydration. For the pain, just give him some extra-strength Tylenol when needed,” the doctor advised. “As for that bruise, continue to put an ice pack on it,” he said with a smile on his face, the wiener pack still fresh in his memory. “As a precaution, make sure he sleeps on his side to prevent choking if ever he vomits again,” the physician droned on.
“Thanks Doctor, I really appreciate it,” Stella said graciously.
“No problem, Detective,” he replied. “…Oh and don’t forget the wieners,” he said in an amused tone, handing Stella the now-melting wieners.
Stella grinned, “Uuhhh, thanks again, Doc.”
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Before heading to Don’s apartment, they had passed by a convenience store where Danny bought what the doctor recommended while Stella waited in the cab with the now sleeping Flack. After what seemed like forever they soon arrived at Flack’s apartment complex. Stella woke Flack up reluctantly, saying that they had arrived at his place.
Finally inside the apartment after what seemed like ages, Stella and Danny helped Flack into his bedroom. Danny held onto the sleepy Flack while Stella turned down the covers. Danny brought Flack down onto the bed.
“Danny, help me remove his tie and suit. It stinks and I’m sure Flack wouldn’t appreciate waking up to that smell,” Stella said, wrinkling her nose. So they stripped Flack down to his boxers and wifebeater. ‘Shit. Many times have I fantasized seeing Flack in his boxers but never like this. Not under this kind of circumstance. Gee, he’s passed out and oblivious to my presence,’ she thought wryly.
They had positioned Flack on the bed just like what the doctor told her. “Hey Danny,” she piped up. “I think I’ll stay the night here, on the couch,” she continued.
“Stel, are you sure? This is the first time I’ve seen Flack this drunk. I mean I could stay here with the knucklehead if you like,” Danny volunteered.
“Nah, it’s okay Danny. It was my idea to invite you guys out for St. Patrick’s Day, so it’s just fitting that I remain here to nurse Flack through this,” Stella answered. “Anyway, don’t you have an early shift tomorrow,” she asked him.
“Yeah, I do,” Danny said.
“Besides, I think Flack and I need to talk about what happened,” Stella told him.
“Okay Stel. Just call me if you need anything,” he said, making his way to the front door. “Oh and don’t forget to tell me what happens when he wakes up. I want all the juicy details,” Danny said cheekily.
“I’m sure whatever happens here you’ll find out one way or another. Oh and Danny…just keep everything on the down low for now. I don’t think Flack would like it if everyone found out what happened over at The Boombox before we’ve even had the chance to talk properly,” Stella told him. “Okay? If I hear rumors swirling about this," she paused dramatically. "Just so you know, I'll know it was you who started it and I’ll hunt you down, Messer. That's a promise,” she said humorously.
“Don’t worry about it Stel, I won’t tell a soul. Scout’s honor,” he replied, finally closing the door behind him. “Oh Stel, don’t forget to lock up,” he yelled from outside, finally leaving Stella alone.
Stella marched into Flack’s bedroom. Don was now snoring loudly. She picked up the suit and tie Flack was just wearing moments ago. She made her way to the other side of the room and entered the bathroom, placing the clothes into the hamper. Then, she got a washcloth from the shelves that stocked bathroom linen. Looking for a basin, she checked in the cabinet under the sink, finding it there, she took it out. She filled the basin with water and alcohol she got from the medicine cabinet in front of her. She placed the washcloth in the basin.
Carrying the basin into the bedroom, she made her way to Don’s side, sitting on the bed, beside him. She placed the basin on the night table, took out the washcloth and squeezed out the water. She wiped his face first and proceeded with his arms and legs. While she was doing this, Flack kept mumbling, “I love you, Stel!” But clearly he was asleep and unconscious. ‘Ah, Flack…I love you too,’ Stella thought to herself.
Finished with her task, she cleaned up the bathroom. Once inside the bedroom again, she rolled down the blinds. She knew that sunlight would be a bitch for someone with a nasty hangover. Finally making her way out of the bedroom, she shut off the lights in Flack’s room. Murmuring, “Sweet dreams, Donnie,” Stella closed the bedroom door gently.
To Be Continued…
A/N 2: You’ve finally reached the end of this chapter. So how was it? I really would love to know what you think of this one. Again, some events were based on real life. Please push that comment button! Go! Push it! LOL!