[fic] - Breaking the ice - 1/4 - CSI NY
It's been a while since I started this fic, so I figured I should start posting it.
CSI NY and a Flack/Stella (eventual) pairing.
Enjoy!
Title: Breaking the Ice 1/4
Author: Ceindreadh
Characters/Pairing: Flack, Stella, Mac. Eventual Flack/Stella
Rating: T/PG-15
Summary: Flack is in trouble; Stella and Mac look out for him
Genre: Het, hurt/comfort, a little romance (hopefully!) on the side.
Notes: Started writing this mid-way through S3, so that's roughly where it's set.
I've had it kicking around my hard drive for ages, so I figured I should post it.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the CSI NY characters, I'm only borrowing them, and I promise to return them in minty fresh condition when I'm finished.
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"So tell me again why Flack wanted us to meet him here?" asked Stella as she heaved her CSI kit out of the trunk. She shivered slightly in the cool winter air, thankful that she'd worn her heavier coat that day.
Mac shrugged, "He said he might have a lead on some evidence in the Foster case. Wanted us to come and check it out."
"Risa Foster was murdered five blocks from here," said Stella. "What makes him think something in this alley is connected?"
"Guess we'll just have to ask him," said Mac. "He should be just down through here."
But Detective Don Flack was not in a position to be asked anything. As Mac and Stella rounded the corner to the alley, they saw him slumped against a wall, one hand clutching the side of his head. Blood streamed down from between his fingers, and his face was pale.
"Don!" called Mac as he and Stella ran to his side. "What happened?"
"Some...some guy...white guy, black jacket...hit me...came outta nowhere..." Don groaned.
"How long ago?" asked Stella..
"Ugh...a few minutes...not...not long..." Don took his hand away from his head, looking at it almost in surprise as it came away covered in blood. "Oh man!"
"Stay here," ordered Mac, drawing his gun as he hurried down the far end of the alley.
"You should sit down," said Stella, "You look terrible."
"I'm fine," said Don, pushing away from the wall. "Just got taken by surprise. I'll be okay...I..."
His face turned even paler as he slumped against Stella. It took all of her strength to lower him down to a seated position. "Easy there Don, you might have a concussion." Hearing footsteps, she looked up to see Mac returning. "Any sign?"
Mac shook his head as he crouched down beside the pair. "He could have gone anywhere. How's Don?"
"I think we should call an ambulance," said Stella.
"No, no, no," said Don. "I'm fine...just got a little dizzy...I don't need an ambulance." He shook his head for emphasis, but the movement proved to be a mistake. A wave of nausea hit him and he barely managed to lean forward enough to avoid vomiting on himself. He could feel Mac and Stella supporting him as he threw up, and then everything just faded out.
----------------------
"Don, can you hear me?" It was a woman's voice sounding to Don like it was coming from a long way away.
"Go 'way," he mumbled. "Not time to get up..." He rubbed his cheek against the soft surface beneath it. "Few more minutes, 'kay?"
"Don." This was a man's voice now. "If you can hear me, I want you to open your eyes."
Don groaned, wondering why these people wouldn't let him be. He was tired and he was sore and his pillow was just about in the perfect position for comfort. Without opening his eyes, he reached out and tried to adjust it just a fraction. This time, Don felt as well as heard somebody clearing their throat.
"Don Flack, you had damn well better be concussed!"
The voice sounded only half annoyed, but the tone was enough to make Don force his eyes open. He blinked a few times before he finally managed to focus on the face of Stella Bonasera, which was looming over him. "Stella?" he said, confused. "I...what?"
"You might want to think about moving your hand," said Stella, her tone even.
Still confused, Don looked around to see that his head was pillowed against Stella's chest, and his hand...shit! He pulled it away as if it had been burned, and would have moved his whole body away if he could have.
"Easy there Don," said Stella, reassuringly. "Last time you tried to move so fast, you passed out. Just stay where you are." It wasn't like he had much choice, thought Stella as she tightened her arms around Don's upper body. After he'd thrown up, Don had passed out and it had been an instinctive reaction to grab him before he ended up flat on the ground in his own vomit. She hadn't wanted to risk moving him further until the ambulance arrived. Fortunately, less than a minute had passed before Don had started to come round.
Now Mac crouched in front of Don, and gently pulled up his eyelid before shining his torch into each eye. "There's an ambulance on the way, Don," he said. "You'll need to get checked out by a doctor. Probably need some stitches in that head lac."
"...'kay," mumbled Don.
"What did he hit you with?" asked Mac, partly in his CSI Detective mode, but mainly he was interested in keeping Don alert and oriented as much as possible.
Don waved his hand clumsily. "Board...piece...piece of wood...one second I was checking...checking dumpster...turned around...boom, there he was...didn't...didn't hear him coming..." He groaned again, more at his own supposed carelessness than any sense of pain.
Mac glanced around the alleyway. There was a length of wood only a few feet away. Even from that distance he could see what looked like bloodstains on it.
"Why were you checking the dumpster?" asked Stella.
Don frowned as he tried to collect his thoughts. "Checked...checked with the company...rented the dumpsters outside the Foster scene."
"We searched all the dumpsters for the weapon," said Mac. "Came up empty." Even as he spoke, Mac was retrieving his camera from his bag and setting up an evidence marker beside the wood.
"Yeah...but Foster'd been dead for hours before we'z got to the scene. I figured maybe some of them might a been moved. So...so I checked with the owners. They'z said one of them got shifted over here..." He waved at the dumpster next to them. "Figured it was worth a shot."
The sound of a siren interrupted them as an ambulance pulled up at the end of the alley.
"I'll process this scene," said Mac. "You go with Don to the ER."
"Suppose you'll be wanting the shirt off my back for evidence again," mumbled Don, tiredly.
"Don't think we'll need to go that far," said Stella, rubbing Don's arm gently, "But I will need to get shots of your injury. You know the drill."
"Yeah," said Don, sighing heavily as the paramedics approached.
--------------------
To be continued
Ceindreadh
Chapter 02
Chapter 03
Chapter 04
CSI NY and a Flack/Stella (eventual) pairing.
Enjoy!
Title: Breaking the Ice 1/4
Author: Ceindreadh
Characters/Pairing: Flack, Stella, Mac. Eventual Flack/Stella
Rating: T/PG-15
Summary: Flack is in trouble; Stella and Mac look out for him
Genre: Het, hurt/comfort, a little romance (hopefully!) on the side.
Notes: Started writing this mid-way through S3, so that's roughly where it's set.
I've had it kicking around my hard drive for ages, so I figured I should post it.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the CSI NY characters, I'm only borrowing them, and I promise to return them in minty fresh condition when I'm finished.
--------------------------
"So tell me again why Flack wanted us to meet him here?" asked Stella as she heaved her CSI kit out of the trunk. She shivered slightly in the cool winter air, thankful that she'd worn her heavier coat that day.
Mac shrugged, "He said he might have a lead on some evidence in the Foster case. Wanted us to come and check it out."
"Risa Foster was murdered five blocks from here," said Stella. "What makes him think something in this alley is connected?"
"Guess we'll just have to ask him," said Mac. "He should be just down through here."
But Detective Don Flack was not in a position to be asked anything. As Mac and Stella rounded the corner to the alley, they saw him slumped against a wall, one hand clutching the side of his head. Blood streamed down from between his fingers, and his face was pale.
"Don!" called Mac as he and Stella ran to his side. "What happened?"
"Some...some guy...white guy, black jacket...hit me...came outta nowhere..." Don groaned.
"How long ago?" asked Stella..
"Ugh...a few minutes...not...not long..." Don took his hand away from his head, looking at it almost in surprise as it came away covered in blood. "Oh man!"
"Stay here," ordered Mac, drawing his gun as he hurried down the far end of the alley.
"You should sit down," said Stella, "You look terrible."
"I'm fine," said Don, pushing away from the wall. "Just got taken by surprise. I'll be okay...I..."
His face turned even paler as he slumped against Stella. It took all of her strength to lower him down to a seated position. "Easy there Don, you might have a concussion." Hearing footsteps, she looked up to see Mac returning. "Any sign?"
Mac shook his head as he crouched down beside the pair. "He could have gone anywhere. How's Don?"
"I think we should call an ambulance," said Stella.
"No, no, no," said Don. "I'm fine...just got a little dizzy...I don't need an ambulance." He shook his head for emphasis, but the movement proved to be a mistake. A wave of nausea hit him and he barely managed to lean forward enough to avoid vomiting on himself. He could feel Mac and Stella supporting him as he threw up, and then everything just faded out.
----------------------
"Don, can you hear me?" It was a woman's voice sounding to Don like it was coming from a long way away.
"Go 'way," he mumbled. "Not time to get up..." He rubbed his cheek against the soft surface beneath it. "Few more minutes, 'kay?"
"Don." This was a man's voice now. "If you can hear me, I want you to open your eyes."
Don groaned, wondering why these people wouldn't let him be. He was tired and he was sore and his pillow was just about in the perfect position for comfort. Without opening his eyes, he reached out and tried to adjust it just a fraction. This time, Don felt as well as heard somebody clearing their throat.
"Don Flack, you had damn well better be concussed!"
The voice sounded only half annoyed, but the tone was enough to make Don force his eyes open. He blinked a few times before he finally managed to focus on the face of Stella Bonasera, which was looming over him. "Stella?" he said, confused. "I...what?"
"You might want to think about moving your hand," said Stella, her tone even.
Still confused, Don looked around to see that his head was pillowed against Stella's chest, and his hand...shit! He pulled it away as if it had been burned, and would have moved his whole body away if he could have.
"Easy there Don," said Stella, reassuringly. "Last time you tried to move so fast, you passed out. Just stay where you are." It wasn't like he had much choice, thought Stella as she tightened her arms around Don's upper body. After he'd thrown up, Don had passed out and it had been an instinctive reaction to grab him before he ended up flat on the ground in his own vomit. She hadn't wanted to risk moving him further until the ambulance arrived. Fortunately, less than a minute had passed before Don had started to come round.
Now Mac crouched in front of Don, and gently pulled up his eyelid before shining his torch into each eye. "There's an ambulance on the way, Don," he said. "You'll need to get checked out by a doctor. Probably need some stitches in that head lac."
"...'kay," mumbled Don.
"What did he hit you with?" asked Mac, partly in his CSI Detective mode, but mainly he was interested in keeping Don alert and oriented as much as possible.
Don waved his hand clumsily. "Board...piece...piece of wood...one second I was checking...checking dumpster...turned around...boom, there he was...didn't...didn't hear him coming..." He groaned again, more at his own supposed carelessness than any sense of pain.
Mac glanced around the alleyway. There was a length of wood only a few feet away. Even from that distance he could see what looked like bloodstains on it.
"Why were you checking the dumpster?" asked Stella.
Don frowned as he tried to collect his thoughts. "Checked...checked with the company...rented the dumpsters outside the Foster scene."
"We searched all the dumpsters for the weapon," said Mac. "Came up empty." Even as he spoke, Mac was retrieving his camera from his bag and setting up an evidence marker beside the wood.
"Yeah...but Foster'd been dead for hours before we'z got to the scene. I figured maybe some of them might a been moved. So...so I checked with the owners. They'z said one of them got shifted over here..." He waved at the dumpster next to them. "Figured it was worth a shot."
The sound of a siren interrupted them as an ambulance pulled up at the end of the alley.
"I'll process this scene," said Mac. "You go with Don to the ER."
"Suppose you'll be wanting the shirt off my back for evidence again," mumbled Don, tiredly.
"Don't think we'll need to go that far," said Stella, rubbing Don's arm gently, "But I will need to get shots of your injury. You know the drill."
"Yeah," said Don, sighing heavily as the paramedics approached.
--------------------
To be continued
Ceindreadh
Chapter 02
Chapter 03
Chapter 04