[fic] - Breaking the ice - 3/4 - CSI NY - Flack/Stella
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Title: Breaking the Ice 03/04
Author: Ceindreadh
Characters/Pairing: Flack, Stella. Eventual Flack/Stella
Rating: T/PG-15
Summary: Flack is in trouble, Stella looks 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.
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.
Previously on CSI NY - Don got hit on the head while on the job, Stella went with him to the hospital. When his doctor refused to let him leave unaccompanied, Stella offered to let him spend the night at her place.
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"Let me..." Don almost jumped at the sound of Stella's voice, but he didn't resist as she gently pulled the jacket into place and smoothed down the lapels. "That's better," she said, "You look a bit more human with your clothes on."
----------------------
[3]
Clothes or no clothes, Don was feeling slightly less than human as their cab pulled up outside the lab.
"I'll have Danny meet us outside," Stella had told him. "I can sign the evidence over to him and then take you home and put you to bed."
"Sounds great," Don had mumbled. "Mac okay with you skipping out early on your shift?"
"My shift ended two hours ago," Stella had said. "I can type up my report at home and have it ready for morning."
"Cool," and that had been the extent of the conversation from Don's side of the cab until they got as far as the lab.
The cool rush of air as Stella rolled down the window revived Don a little and he sat a bit more upright in his seat, blinking his eyes wearily as he focused on the figure who was approaching the car.
Danny Messer ambled over to the cab and bent down to see in through the window. "Hey Stella, Flack. Man, you look like crap!" There was a concerned edge to his voice as he looked at his friend.
"You wanna come in here and say that, Messer?" grumbled Flack.
Stella signed her name on the chain of custody docket and handed a packet to Danny. "See that Mac gets this."
"Sure thing Stella," said Danny, adding his name to the docket. "Oh, almost forgot." He grabbed a sports bag from the ground. "Figured youze might need a change of clothes, Flack, so I got this from your locker." He handed it to Stella.
"Thanks Danny," said Stella.
"Yeah, thanks," mumbled Don, leaning his head back against the seat and closing his eyes.
"You look after him, ya hear?" said Danny. In a lower tone he asked, "You sure he's okay to be outta hospital? He don't look so good."
"I can still hear you," said Don. "I'm okay!"
Stella glanced over at him and then turned back to Danny, "I'll keep an eye on him. Any change and he's going back to the ER...and no arguments," the last part being addressed directly to Don who gave a shaky thumbs up.
"Yeah, well he gives you any arguments, you just give me a call and we'll haul his ass back in to Trinity," said Danny. This earned him a snort of disbelief from Don. "You take care now."
"Bye Danny," said Stella, rolling up the window as she gave the cabbie her home address.
--------------------
Stella glanced over at Don as the taxi weaved its way through the busy streets. "Hey," she said softly. "How're you holding up?"
"Mmm?" Don forced his eyes open and looked at Stella, "I'm fine," he lied, trying to ignore the throbbing in his head. He closed his eyes, only to open them again when he felt a hand on his arm.
"Don, don't lie to me," said Stella, frowning slightly. "I know how bad a concussion can hurt, and I'm not going to drag you back to the hospital just for having a headache. But I need you to be honest with me about how bad a headache it is, otherwise I'll have no idea if your condition is getting worse."
Don sighed heavily, "It's like there's two rats inside my skull trying to claw their way out, and one of them has a sledgehammer. Course earlier it was like they both were using sledges." He smiled wearily.
Stella patted him on the arm. "We'll be home soon," she said reassuringly. "You're due another dose of painkillers in a bit. And you'll feel much better once you've had something to eat."
"Ah Stel, I dunno if I'm all that hungry."
"Did I make it sound like a suggestion?" Stella smiled at the look on Don's face. "The painkillers are best taken on a full stomach. And I have some moussaka in the fridge that just needs reheating. Trust me Don."
"I always do," mumbled Don, letting his eyes close again as he leaned back against the seat.
------------------
True to her word, Stella made sure that Don had something to eat before taking his meds. Not that he had much of an appetite. Even if the dressing on his head and the pallor of his face hadn't been sufficient evidence, the lack of interest he showed in the food would have been proof enough of his debilitated state.
After watching him push the same piece of moussaka around the plate for a good five minutes, Stella finally spoke up, "Is my cooking really that bad?" she asked teasingly.
Don looked up quickly, a faint flush of color brightening his cheeks. "What? Shit, no Stel, it's great, really." He quickly shoveled another forkful into his mouth.
Stella touched him lightly on the hand, "Relax, Don," she said, gently. "I know your appetite's going to be a bit off. And you don't have to finish it all."
"Ma always said that if we were eating at somebody's house, we'd got to finish everything on our plates. Otherwise it was being rude to the cook."
"Well I won't tell Christo at the corner deli if you don't!" said Stella, with a smile. "Eat what you can, that's all I ask."
Don did his best, but after a few more mouthfuls, he pushed the plate away from him. "Sorry Stella, it's great, really, but I just can't."
"I told you, it's all right," said Stella, taking the plate away from him. She carried the dishes over to the sink, before filling a glass with water and bringing it back to the table. "Time for your meds."
Don grimaced as the pill containers were lined up in front of him. Painkillers, anti-imflamatorys, antibiotics, yet another bunch to rattle around his insides, as if he hadn't swallowed a whole drug store already. Reaching for the first container, he fumbled with the lid, swearing under his breath as he tried to open it. "Fucking childproof lids," he muttered under his breath before cursing out loud as the lid suddenly came free, spilling the pills over the table.
"This really hasn't been your day," said Stella, trying to keep the smile off her face at the grouchy expression on Don's face.
"You could say that," said Don, trying to hang on to the remains of his dignity. Fuck it, wasn't like he had much left to lose. He nodded to the remaining containers. "Little help, please?"
------------------------
Chapter 4
Chapter 2
Title: Breaking the Ice 03/04
Author: Ceindreadh
Characters/Pairing: Flack, Stella. Eventual Flack/Stella
Rating: T/PG-15
Summary: Flack is in trouble, Stella looks 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.
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.
Previously on CSI NY - Don got hit on the head while on the job, Stella went with him to the hospital. When his doctor refused to let him leave unaccompanied, Stella offered to let him spend the night at her place.
--------------------------
"Let me..." Don almost jumped at the sound of Stella's voice, but he didn't resist as she gently pulled the jacket into place and smoothed down the lapels. "That's better," she said, "You look a bit more human with your clothes on."
----------------------
[3]
Clothes or no clothes, Don was feeling slightly less than human as their cab pulled up outside the lab.
"I'll have Danny meet us outside," Stella had told him. "I can sign the evidence over to him and then take you home and put you to bed."
"Sounds great," Don had mumbled. "Mac okay with you skipping out early on your shift?"
"My shift ended two hours ago," Stella had said. "I can type up my report at home and have it ready for morning."
"Cool," and that had been the extent of the conversation from Don's side of the cab until they got as far as the lab.
The cool rush of air as Stella rolled down the window revived Don a little and he sat a bit more upright in his seat, blinking his eyes wearily as he focused on the figure who was approaching the car.
Danny Messer ambled over to the cab and bent down to see in through the window. "Hey Stella, Flack. Man, you look like crap!" There was a concerned edge to his voice as he looked at his friend.
"You wanna come in here and say that, Messer?" grumbled Flack.
Stella signed her name on the chain of custody docket and handed a packet to Danny. "See that Mac gets this."
"Sure thing Stella," said Danny, adding his name to the docket. "Oh, almost forgot." He grabbed a sports bag from the ground. "Figured youze might need a change of clothes, Flack, so I got this from your locker." He handed it to Stella.
"Thanks Danny," said Stella.
"Yeah, thanks," mumbled Don, leaning his head back against the seat and closing his eyes.
"You look after him, ya hear?" said Danny. In a lower tone he asked, "You sure he's okay to be outta hospital? He don't look so good."
"I can still hear you," said Don. "I'm okay!"
Stella glanced over at him and then turned back to Danny, "I'll keep an eye on him. Any change and he's going back to the ER...and no arguments," the last part being addressed directly to Don who gave a shaky thumbs up.
"Yeah, well he gives you any arguments, you just give me a call and we'll haul his ass back in to Trinity," said Danny. This earned him a snort of disbelief from Don. "You take care now."
"Bye Danny," said Stella, rolling up the window as she gave the cabbie her home address.
--------------------
Stella glanced over at Don as the taxi weaved its way through the busy streets. "Hey," she said softly. "How're you holding up?"
"Mmm?" Don forced his eyes open and looked at Stella, "I'm fine," he lied, trying to ignore the throbbing in his head. He closed his eyes, only to open them again when he felt a hand on his arm.
"Don, don't lie to me," said Stella, frowning slightly. "I know how bad a concussion can hurt, and I'm not going to drag you back to the hospital just for having a headache. But I need you to be honest with me about how bad a headache it is, otherwise I'll have no idea if your condition is getting worse."
Don sighed heavily, "It's like there's two rats inside my skull trying to claw their way out, and one of them has a sledgehammer. Course earlier it was like they both were using sledges." He smiled wearily.
Stella patted him on the arm. "We'll be home soon," she said reassuringly. "You're due another dose of painkillers in a bit. And you'll feel much better once you've had something to eat."
"Ah Stel, I dunno if I'm all that hungry."
"Did I make it sound like a suggestion?" Stella smiled at the look on Don's face. "The painkillers are best taken on a full stomach. And I have some moussaka in the fridge that just needs reheating. Trust me Don."
"I always do," mumbled Don, letting his eyes close again as he leaned back against the seat.
------------------
True to her word, Stella made sure that Don had something to eat before taking his meds. Not that he had much of an appetite. Even if the dressing on his head and the pallor of his face hadn't been sufficient evidence, the lack of interest he showed in the food would have been proof enough of his debilitated state.
After watching him push the same piece of moussaka around the plate for a good five minutes, Stella finally spoke up, "Is my cooking really that bad?" she asked teasingly.
Don looked up quickly, a faint flush of color brightening his cheeks. "What? Shit, no Stel, it's great, really." He quickly shoveled another forkful into his mouth.
Stella touched him lightly on the hand, "Relax, Don," she said, gently. "I know your appetite's going to be a bit off. And you don't have to finish it all."
"Ma always said that if we were eating at somebody's house, we'd got to finish everything on our plates. Otherwise it was being rude to the cook."
"Well I won't tell Christo at the corner deli if you don't!" said Stella, with a smile. "Eat what you can, that's all I ask."
Don did his best, but after a few more mouthfuls, he pushed the plate away from him. "Sorry Stella, it's great, really, but I just can't."
"I told you, it's all right," said Stella, taking the plate away from him. She carried the dishes over to the sink, before filling a glass with water and bringing it back to the table. "Time for your meds."
Don grimaced as the pill containers were lined up in front of him. Painkillers, anti-imflamatorys, antibiotics, yet another bunch to rattle around his insides, as if he hadn't swallowed a whole drug store already. Reaching for the first container, he fumbled with the lid, swearing under his breath as he tried to open it. "Fucking childproof lids," he muttered under his breath before cursing out loud as the lid suddenly came free, spilling the pills over the table.
"This really hasn't been your day," said Stella, trying to keep the smile off her face at the grouchy expression on Don's face.
"You could say that," said Don, trying to hang on to the remains of his dignity. Fuck it, wasn't like he had much left to lose. He nodded to the remaining containers. "Little help, please?"
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Chapter 4