Fic: Advent Calendar (December 19): At the Tree Lot
Title: Advent Calendar (December 19): At the Tree Lot
Author: stellaluna_
Fandom: CSI:NY
Rating: PG for language
Summary: It's another one of those conversations. Danny/Mac
Disclaimer: None of these are mine. Characters are the property of Anthony Zuiker, Jerry Bruckheimer Television, CBS, and Alliance Atlantis.
Notes: This is my attempt at a fic version of an Advent calendar. There will be 25 of these.
Mac has never thought that Sixth Avenue in the 20s is anything special, and he doesn't look around as he and Danny are walking back to their car after interviewing a witness at a bodega on Sixth and 22nd. Halfway there, as they're waiting for the light to change, he realizes that Danny has gotten distracted, and he looks over to see what could have caught his attention.
Danny is staring across the street to the other side of the Avenue, his gaze focused on a Christmas tree vendor who's set up in the vacant lot. "You all right?" Mac asks, just in case that's not what Danny is looking at after all, if maybe he's spotted something of interest or alarm.
"Oh, yeah, sure," Danny says. "Just checking out the trees."
"Right," Mac says. He glances back at the intersection. "We've got the light."
"Let's cross here," Danny says, and moves over to the other crosswalk.
Mac follows him, trying to hold back a sigh. "I was thinking we could cross at 28th," he says.
"So we'll cross here." Danny shrugs, smiling. "What difference does it make? I want to look at the trees."
"Looking to buy?" Mac asks.
"No." The light changes, and they go with the crowd across Sixth. "My apartment's too small for a decent tree, and I wouldn't have the time to decorate, anyway. Or the decorations to decorate, for that matter. I just like to look. And breathe in that pine scent."
"Got it."
"Don't you like to do that?" Danny asks as they approach the lot. "Walk past these places and get the pine in your nose?"
"I've never really thought about it," Mac says. He hasn't.
They're at the lot now, and Danny laces his fingers through the loops of the chain-link fence, leaning in close and taking a deep breath. It does smell good: fresh and sharp, like a forest. It doesn't make Mac think about Christmas, though. He's not sure what it makes him think of. Not much, other than trees.
"I do get a wreath most years," Danny says. "I figure that's easy enough to do, and it's no fuss to throw it away after the season's over. What about you, Mac, you get a tree?"
"No," Mac says. He glances at his watch. They've still got a little time, he supposes.
"Yeah, guess your place isn't much bigger than mine. A wreath, then?"
"No."
"Not even a wreath?" Danny looks at him. "Where's your Christmas spirit?"
"Worrying about getting back to the lab so we can see if our lab results are back yet."
Danny waves a hand at him. "Either they are or they aren't. They'll keep." He takes another deep breath. "Don't see why you don't at least get a wreath. We always got a fresh pine wreath when I was a kid, even years when we didn't get a live tree."
"You didn't always have a tree when you were a kid?" Mac says, surprised.
Danny smiles. "Oh, so he does take stock of some holiday traditions. Good to know." Mac opens his mouth to protest, but Danny goes on talking. "No, don't get me wrong; we always had a tree. We just went back and forth between using the artificial one my folks got when they were first married and actually buying a real one. My mom worried about fire and didn't like the mess, and my dad would bitch about spending all that money on something we were just gonna throw out at the end of the month. But they'd usually give in to me and Louie about every other year."
Mac doesn't say anything, and Danny gives him another look, then goes on. "The fake one was nice, too, but getting a real tree was always something special. Pop would let us come to the lot with him and help pick one out, and then we'd haul it home."
"Sounds like fun," Mac says, mostly because he knows that Danny expects him to make a comment.
"It was," Danny says. "How 'bout you?"
"How about me?"
"What did you have when you were a kid, an artificial tree or a real one?"
"We always had a real one," Mac says. "My parents wouldn't have thought of getting an artificial tree. It just...it wasn't how things were done."
"Not proper enough for them?"
"Something like that." He thinks about the way the tree had always looked in the front parlor, every ornament in place and the lights carefully arranged in a regular pattern. "We didn't go to a lot to pick it out, though. We had it delivered."
"Wow, fancy," Danny says.
"I guess." Mac glances at his watch again. "I would have preferred an artificial tree, to be honest."
"Over a real one?"
"Sure. We really do need to go, Danny."
Danny takes one last deep breath, and then they start to walk up Sixth again. "But real ones are great."
"Sure, if you like deforestation."
Danny laughs. "Mac, you do know they grow these things on tree farms, right? They're not ripping down forests to get them."
"I know," Mac says. "It still seems like a waste of a living thing."
"I still think you could get a wreath," Danny says. "I mean, even if you don't like how your parents did things, well, why not take the opportunity to reclaim it for yourself? In fact, if you ask me, that's the perfect reason to get some decorations and do things the way you would like."
"I don't have time, Danny," Mac says, more sharply than he means to. "And I don't need a tree or a wreath or anything else. I'm not trying to prove anything to anyone."
"Okay, okay." Danny holds up his hands. "I got it already. You don't need to prove a goddamn thing. Fine." He turns away, but not before Mac sees a quick flash of hurt cross his face.
-
-
-
Danny doesn't bring up Christmas trees or any other decorations again that day, and neither does Mac. He keeps thinking about their conversation, though, and about the look on Danny's face right before they had dropped the subject. It's not, he realizes at last, how he wants to leave things between them. Not now: not at the holidays, and not when things between are good more often than not. It leaves him feeling unsettled.
And maybe Danny had a point.
He doesn't know what he's going to do about it, though. Neither of them are really big on apologies, and he thinks that it would just seem strange if he brought the subject up again out of the blue.
The next night, Friday, they're walking down the Bowery toward the Lafayette station when Mac spots another tree lot. He glances over at Danny; judging by the sudden tension in his shoulders, Mac is pretty sure he's noticed it, too, but he doesn't say anything. Mac thinks it over, and when they're almost past the lot, he realizes that this is his perfect chance, so he says, "Hold on a minute," and heads back toward the entrance.
"Mac?" Danny says, sounding surprised. Mac walks past the trees and goes to the back of the lot, where wreaths are hung up all along the fence.
"What do you think?" Mac says, when Danny catches up. "Pinecones or holly?"
"On the wreaths?" Danny says.
"Of course on the wreaths. Which would you prefer, if you were buying one?"
Danny pushes his glasses up on his nose. "Well...mine has pinecones on it."
Mac considers this. "I think I'll get the holly," he says. "We can have a little variety that way."
Danny laughs, looking a little nonplussed. "Sure," he says. "Sure, why the hell not? Variety is good." He doesn't say anything about this sudden change of heart, and Mac is grateful for this. He gets the vendor to cut down the wreath he's picked out, and pays for it, and then they go back out to the street. That was easier than he might have expected; the whole thing took less than five minutes. The wreath, though, is awkward in his arms, and finally he settles on putting his arm through it and carrying it over his shoulder.
"Now what?" Danny says.
"Now we take this back to my place and you help me hang it up." He looks down at the wreath. "They're not going to mind if I take this on the subway, are they?"
"Nah," Danny says. "I see people with wreaths all the time. You're fine. A tree, they might've had a problem with. Although I bet someone has tried to pull that off more than once."
"Good," Mac says, and smiles at Danny.
"Yeah," Danny says, returning the smile. "It is good." He puts a hand on Mac's back for just a moment before they start to walk again.
Mac settles the wreath a little more securely on his shoulder. The warm scent of pine fills his nose, and this time he does think of Christmas, and of home.
Feedback is always appreciated.
Author: stellaluna_
Fandom: CSI:NY
Rating: PG for language
Summary: It's another one of those conversations. Danny/Mac
Disclaimer: None of these are mine. Characters are the property of Anthony Zuiker, Jerry Bruckheimer Television, CBS, and Alliance Atlantis.
Notes: This is my attempt at a fic version of an Advent calendar. There will be 25 of these.
Mac has never thought that Sixth Avenue in the 20s is anything special, and he doesn't look around as he and Danny are walking back to their car after interviewing a witness at a bodega on Sixth and 22nd. Halfway there, as they're waiting for the light to change, he realizes that Danny has gotten distracted, and he looks over to see what could have caught his attention.
Danny is staring across the street to the other side of the Avenue, his gaze focused on a Christmas tree vendor who's set up in the vacant lot. "You all right?" Mac asks, just in case that's not what Danny is looking at after all, if maybe he's spotted something of interest or alarm.
"Oh, yeah, sure," Danny says. "Just checking out the trees."
"Right," Mac says. He glances back at the intersection. "We've got the light."
"Let's cross here," Danny says, and moves over to the other crosswalk.
Mac follows him, trying to hold back a sigh. "I was thinking we could cross at 28th," he says.
"So we'll cross here." Danny shrugs, smiling. "What difference does it make? I want to look at the trees."
"Looking to buy?" Mac asks.
"No." The light changes, and they go with the crowd across Sixth. "My apartment's too small for a decent tree, and I wouldn't have the time to decorate, anyway. Or the decorations to decorate, for that matter. I just like to look. And breathe in that pine scent."
"Got it."
"Don't you like to do that?" Danny asks as they approach the lot. "Walk past these places and get the pine in your nose?"
"I've never really thought about it," Mac says. He hasn't.
They're at the lot now, and Danny laces his fingers through the loops of the chain-link fence, leaning in close and taking a deep breath. It does smell good: fresh and sharp, like a forest. It doesn't make Mac think about Christmas, though. He's not sure what it makes him think of. Not much, other than trees.
"I do get a wreath most years," Danny says. "I figure that's easy enough to do, and it's no fuss to throw it away after the season's over. What about you, Mac, you get a tree?"
"No," Mac says. He glances at his watch. They've still got a little time, he supposes.
"Yeah, guess your place isn't much bigger than mine. A wreath, then?"
"No."
"Not even a wreath?" Danny looks at him. "Where's your Christmas spirit?"
"Worrying about getting back to the lab so we can see if our lab results are back yet."
Danny waves a hand at him. "Either they are or they aren't. They'll keep." He takes another deep breath. "Don't see why you don't at least get a wreath. We always got a fresh pine wreath when I was a kid, even years when we didn't get a live tree."
"You didn't always have a tree when you were a kid?" Mac says, surprised.
Danny smiles. "Oh, so he does take stock of some holiday traditions. Good to know." Mac opens his mouth to protest, but Danny goes on talking. "No, don't get me wrong; we always had a tree. We just went back and forth between using the artificial one my folks got when they were first married and actually buying a real one. My mom worried about fire and didn't like the mess, and my dad would bitch about spending all that money on something we were just gonna throw out at the end of the month. But they'd usually give in to me and Louie about every other year."
Mac doesn't say anything, and Danny gives him another look, then goes on. "The fake one was nice, too, but getting a real tree was always something special. Pop would let us come to the lot with him and help pick one out, and then we'd haul it home."
"Sounds like fun," Mac says, mostly because he knows that Danny expects him to make a comment.
"It was," Danny says. "How 'bout you?"
"How about me?"
"What did you have when you were a kid, an artificial tree or a real one?"
"We always had a real one," Mac says. "My parents wouldn't have thought of getting an artificial tree. It just...it wasn't how things were done."
"Not proper enough for them?"
"Something like that." He thinks about the way the tree had always looked in the front parlor, every ornament in place and the lights carefully arranged in a regular pattern. "We didn't go to a lot to pick it out, though. We had it delivered."
"Wow, fancy," Danny says.
"I guess." Mac glances at his watch again. "I would have preferred an artificial tree, to be honest."
"Over a real one?"
"Sure. We really do need to go, Danny."
Danny takes one last deep breath, and then they start to walk up Sixth again. "But real ones are great."
"Sure, if you like deforestation."
Danny laughs. "Mac, you do know they grow these things on tree farms, right? They're not ripping down forests to get them."
"I know," Mac says. "It still seems like a waste of a living thing."
"I still think you could get a wreath," Danny says. "I mean, even if you don't like how your parents did things, well, why not take the opportunity to reclaim it for yourself? In fact, if you ask me, that's the perfect reason to get some decorations and do things the way you would like."
"I don't have time, Danny," Mac says, more sharply than he means to. "And I don't need a tree or a wreath or anything else. I'm not trying to prove anything to anyone."
"Okay, okay." Danny holds up his hands. "I got it already. You don't need to prove a goddamn thing. Fine." He turns away, but not before Mac sees a quick flash of hurt cross his face.
-
-
-
Danny doesn't bring up Christmas trees or any other decorations again that day, and neither does Mac. He keeps thinking about their conversation, though, and about the look on Danny's face right before they had dropped the subject. It's not, he realizes at last, how he wants to leave things between them. Not now: not at the holidays, and not when things between are good more often than not. It leaves him feeling unsettled.
And maybe Danny had a point.
He doesn't know what he's going to do about it, though. Neither of them are really big on apologies, and he thinks that it would just seem strange if he brought the subject up again out of the blue.
The next night, Friday, they're walking down the Bowery toward the Lafayette station when Mac spots another tree lot. He glances over at Danny; judging by the sudden tension in his shoulders, Mac is pretty sure he's noticed it, too, but he doesn't say anything. Mac thinks it over, and when they're almost past the lot, he realizes that this is his perfect chance, so he says, "Hold on a minute," and heads back toward the entrance.
"Mac?" Danny says, sounding surprised. Mac walks past the trees and goes to the back of the lot, where wreaths are hung up all along the fence.
"What do you think?" Mac says, when Danny catches up. "Pinecones or holly?"
"On the wreaths?" Danny says.
"Of course on the wreaths. Which would you prefer, if you were buying one?"
Danny pushes his glasses up on his nose. "Well...mine has pinecones on it."
Mac considers this. "I think I'll get the holly," he says. "We can have a little variety that way."
Danny laughs, looking a little nonplussed. "Sure," he says. "Sure, why the hell not? Variety is good." He doesn't say anything about this sudden change of heart, and Mac is grateful for this. He gets the vendor to cut down the wreath he's picked out, and pays for it, and then they go back out to the street. That was easier than he might have expected; the whole thing took less than five minutes. The wreath, though, is awkward in his arms, and finally he settles on putting his arm through it and carrying it over his shoulder.
"Now what?" Danny says.
"Now we take this back to my place and you help me hang it up." He looks down at the wreath. "They're not going to mind if I take this on the subway, are they?"
"Nah," Danny says. "I see people with wreaths all the time. You're fine. A tree, they might've had a problem with. Although I bet someone has tried to pull that off more than once."
"Good," Mac says, and smiles at Danny.
"Yeah," Danny says, returning the smile. "It is good." He puts a hand on Mac's back for just a moment before they start to walk again.
Mac settles the wreath a little more securely on his shoulder. The warm scent of pine fills his nose, and this time he does think of Christmas, and of home.
Feedback is always appreciated.