drabblish things round one
they're all under three hundred words this time
"Flack/Danny, wherein one of them is smoking and the other reacts appropriately" for lblikesbagels
craving
From thirty feet away Danny’s smile catches at Flack’s peripheral vision.
Flack’s focused on Mrs. Deyton and what she maybe didn’t hear three nights ago, but a corner of his brain watches Danny charm a cigarette off a sullen blonde girl.
Then Mrs. Deyton is done and gone, and Flack weaves down the sidewalk to where Danny’s pacing, lips moving, cursing to himself motherfucker as he exhales, grey words evaporating into the thin daylight.
Toss up whether Danny’s cursing Flack, the case, or Houston Street in general.
“Find anything down there?”
Danny shakes his head and takes another drag. “Fuck no.” He purses his lips, and Flack’s fingers itch.
Then Danny shrugs and tilts his head to the SUV. “Maybe. A rag with a couple hairs and some green paint, but it’s an alley.” He waves the cigarette around before bringing it to this lips again.
“Yeah.” The tension has crept and spread from Flack’s fingertips to the inside of his wrists, and he finds his own pack of cigarettes because right now it’s the lesser of two evils.
...
Stella/Flack for gin200168
that'll show 'em
“God damn Bonasera, look at you.”
Stella can see the grin on his face before she turns around. “Detective Flack, what brings you to this fine subway platform?”
“Once a year I humor my mother-who’s been talking about grandkids for a decade mind you-and let her set me up with-” He pauses to pull an innocent frown onto his face. “A wholesome girl.”
“So she wasn’t cute?”
“In a shrinking kind of way.” Flack shrugs. “What’re you doing… here?”
“He was cute.” She gives him a tight-lipped smile. “In a boring kind of way.”
“Well then, that’s a waste of a perfectly good dress.”
“Flack, you’re not even looking at the dress.”
“No.” He frowns and tilts his head. “But it’s doing good things for what I am looking at.”
Stella laughs and smacks his arm. She steps closer to fix his collar-one side is caught beneath his coat and the other is sticking up at an angle-and his eyes move up to her face.
“We are so much hotter than all those boring wholesome people,” he murmurs
“Damn straight,” she says. “And yet here we both are on a Friday night.”
“Fuckin’a. Y’know, we should show them exactly how hot we can be.” Flack leans down, a puff of breath on her ear. He nips the back of her jaw then trails his lips down her neck.
“You could even say we owe it to the universe to go back to your place and live up to the full potential of our combined hotness.” She snakes an arm around his neck and feels his teeth in the smile against her shoulder.
...
"Mac/person of your choice, Sgt. Rock-related" for stellaluna_
beneath the table
Stella would find a way to bring it up that night at Sullivans.
Danny grins and looks back and forth between her and Mac. “Someone care to fill me in here?”
Stella leans forward, waving for Danny and Hawkes to do the same. “Mac’s favorite superhero is one Sergeant Rock.”
Hawkes nods. “I remember him-from Easy Company, right?” His fingers play along the lip of his glass. “Did this come up during the course of our investigation? And if so, where was I?”
Mac shifts under their combined scrutiny. “I don’t know that there’s much to tell. Our Army at War was probably my favorite comic, and I always dressed as Sergeant Rock for Halloween.”
Stella grins at him. “And Tuesdays.”
“Actually it was Wednesdays,” Mac deadpans.
This sends Danny into a fit of giggles-although four or five gin and tonics have certainly contributed. Stella and Hawkes watch Danny for a moment, meet each other’s eyes and dissolve into laughter as well.
Mac manages to remain quiet, though he’s grinning so hard his cheeks hurt and his face warms.
Beneath the table an ankle slides up his shin, rumpling his pant leg. A whole other kind of heat rises through his body, and Mac adds his laughter to theirs.
…
feedback always appreciated
"Flack/Danny, wherein one of them is smoking and the other reacts appropriately" for lblikesbagels
craving
From thirty feet away Danny’s smile catches at Flack’s peripheral vision.
Flack’s focused on Mrs. Deyton and what she maybe didn’t hear three nights ago, but a corner of his brain watches Danny charm a cigarette off a sullen blonde girl.
Then Mrs. Deyton is done and gone, and Flack weaves down the sidewalk to where Danny’s pacing, lips moving, cursing to himself motherfucker as he exhales, grey words evaporating into the thin daylight.
Toss up whether Danny’s cursing Flack, the case, or Houston Street in general.
“Find anything down there?”
Danny shakes his head and takes another drag. “Fuck no.” He purses his lips, and Flack’s fingers itch.
Then Danny shrugs and tilts his head to the SUV. “Maybe. A rag with a couple hairs and some green paint, but it’s an alley.” He waves the cigarette around before bringing it to this lips again.
“Yeah.” The tension has crept and spread from Flack’s fingertips to the inside of his wrists, and he finds his own pack of cigarettes because right now it’s the lesser of two evils.
...
Stella/Flack for gin200168
that'll show 'em
“God damn Bonasera, look at you.”
Stella can see the grin on his face before she turns around. “Detective Flack, what brings you to this fine subway platform?”
“Once a year I humor my mother-who’s been talking about grandkids for a decade mind you-and let her set me up with-” He pauses to pull an innocent frown onto his face. “A wholesome girl.”
“So she wasn’t cute?”
“In a shrinking kind of way.” Flack shrugs. “What’re you doing… here?”
“He was cute.” She gives him a tight-lipped smile. “In a boring kind of way.”
“Well then, that’s a waste of a perfectly good dress.”
“Flack, you’re not even looking at the dress.”
“No.” He frowns and tilts his head. “But it’s doing good things for what I am looking at.”
Stella laughs and smacks his arm. She steps closer to fix his collar-one side is caught beneath his coat and the other is sticking up at an angle-and his eyes move up to her face.
“We are so much hotter than all those boring wholesome people,” he murmurs
“Damn straight,” she says. “And yet here we both are on a Friday night.”
“Fuckin’a. Y’know, we should show them exactly how hot we can be.” Flack leans down, a puff of breath on her ear. He nips the back of her jaw then trails his lips down her neck.
“You could even say we owe it to the universe to go back to your place and live up to the full potential of our combined hotness.” She snakes an arm around his neck and feels his teeth in the smile against her shoulder.
...
"Mac/person of your choice, Sgt. Rock-related" for stellaluna_
beneath the table
Stella would find a way to bring it up that night at Sullivans.
Danny grins and looks back and forth between her and Mac. “Someone care to fill me in here?”
Stella leans forward, waving for Danny and Hawkes to do the same. “Mac’s favorite superhero is one Sergeant Rock.”
Hawkes nods. “I remember him-from Easy Company, right?” His fingers play along the lip of his glass. “Did this come up during the course of our investigation? And if so, where was I?”
Mac shifts under their combined scrutiny. “I don’t know that there’s much to tell. Our Army at War was probably my favorite comic, and I always dressed as Sergeant Rock for Halloween.”
Stella grins at him. “And Tuesdays.”
“Actually it was Wednesdays,” Mac deadpans.
This sends Danny into a fit of giggles-although four or five gin and tonics have certainly contributed. Stella and Hawkes watch Danny for a moment, meet each other’s eyes and dissolve into laughter as well.
Mac manages to remain quiet, though he’s grinning so hard his cheeks hurt and his face warms.
Beneath the table an ankle slides up his shin, rumpling his pant leg. A whole other kind of heat rises through his body, and Mac adds his laughter to theirs.
…
feedback always appreciated