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fan_flashworks2014-02-03 09:50 pm
monkiainen.livejournal.com) wrote in fan_flashworks2014-02-03 09:50 pm
Entry tags:
CSI: NY: Fanfic: And I May Break Your Heart
Title: And I May Break Your Heart
Fandom: CSI: NY
Rating: Gen
Length: ~ 500 words
Content notes: -
Author notes: Written for the telephone challenge @![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fan_flashworks. Also fills the slot simple for my 10iloveyou table (Danny Messer/Don Flack)
Summary: A simple phonecall, and what happens after it.
Danny Messer had somewhat reputation as a ladies man. The dirty blonde hair, the blue eyes, the cocky attitude – no wonder ladies were swooning when Danny was around. So when the friendship between Danny and a certain NYPD homicide detective turned into something deeper, people were wondering.
There were multiple texts going back and forth between the two men. Sometimes they were just funny pics or quotes that the other knew would cheer the other up. Sometimes it was just a little remainder to buy more milk when they got the chance. And sometimes it was something as simple as “I love you. Please come home safely.”
Both men were aware of the dangers in their respective jobs. Still, it didn’t stop them from worrying.
BEEP…. BEEP…. BEEP….
”Are going to try and ruin my concentration, again?”
“Now why would I do that, Danny? That would be an obstruction of justice, and it wouldn’t look good on my professional resume.”
”Professional resume my ass.”
“Now now, swearing does not suit you Danny-boy.”
”Don’t call me that.”
“It’s your name, isn’t it? What should I call you then? Lover-boy? Sweetheart? Bunnykins?”
”Bunnykins? Where did that come from? Seriously speaking, you know that I love you, right?”
“Of course I do. Is breá liom tú, freisin. Now go and do some justice. See you later.”
*CLICK*
Don stared at the phone in his hand, deep in thoughts. For all he knew, Danny was at the NYPD crime lab, safe and sound. Don just couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen, and soon. Call it premonition or witchcraft; it wouldn’t be the first time Don had somehow predicted the future. With a heavy sigh, Don prepared for the worst and hoped for the best.
When the news came in that the crime lab had been attacked, Don made his way to the crime lab as fast as he could. He tried to call Danny several times, in vain. Mac’s phone wasn’t answering either, nor was Lindsay’s. With a heavy heart, Don did what he usually did in times of great distress: he put on his mask of hardened street-cop, demanding answers and chasing suspects.
It wasn’t till much later when his phone rang Don realized he had been running in circles for god knows how long. The moment he heard Danny’s voice, alive, battered and bruised, was the best moment of his life. (apart from the day when Danny had told him he had not-so-friendish feelings for him). Don pocketed his phone, making his way to Danny’s location with a lighter step. Telephones might have been a good way to communicate with his life partner while they were both working, but nothing could beat the real face-to-face-communication. Simple, oh so simple.
The next morning neither men took notice of their phones, forgotten in the living room table. They rang for a while, before directing the calls to the voicemail. Whoever was calling should have realized they had something else in their minds than answering the phone.
Fandom: CSI: NY
Rating: Gen
Length: ~ 500 words
Content notes: -
Author notes: Written for the telephone challenge @
fan_flashworks. Also fills the slot simple for my 10iloveyou table (Danny Messer/Don Flack) Summary: A simple phonecall, and what happens after it.
Danny Messer had somewhat reputation as a ladies man. The dirty blonde hair, the blue eyes, the cocky attitude – no wonder ladies were swooning when Danny was around. So when the friendship between Danny and a certain NYPD homicide detective turned into something deeper, people were wondering.
There were multiple texts going back and forth between the two men. Sometimes they were just funny pics or quotes that the other knew would cheer the other up. Sometimes it was just a little remainder to buy more milk when they got the chance. And sometimes it was something as simple as “I love you. Please come home safely.”
Both men were aware of the dangers in their respective jobs. Still, it didn’t stop them from worrying.
BEEP…. BEEP…. BEEP….
”Are going to try and ruin my concentration, again?”
“Now why would I do that, Danny? That would be an obstruction of justice, and it wouldn’t look good on my professional resume.”
”Professional resume my ass.”
“Now now, swearing does not suit you Danny-boy.”
”Don’t call me that.”
“It’s your name, isn’t it? What should I call you then? Lover-boy? Sweetheart? Bunnykins?”
”Bunnykins? Where did that come from? Seriously speaking, you know that I love you, right?”
“Of course I do. Is breá liom tú, freisin. Now go and do some justice. See you later.”
*CLICK*
Don stared at the phone in his hand, deep in thoughts. For all he knew, Danny was at the NYPD crime lab, safe and sound. Don just couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen, and soon. Call it premonition or witchcraft; it wouldn’t be the first time Don had somehow predicted the future. With a heavy sigh, Don prepared for the worst and hoped for the best.
When the news came in that the crime lab had been attacked, Don made his way to the crime lab as fast as he could. He tried to call Danny several times, in vain. Mac’s phone wasn’t answering either, nor was Lindsay’s. With a heavy heart, Don did what he usually did in times of great distress: he put on his mask of hardened street-cop, demanding answers and chasing suspects.
It wasn’t till much later when his phone rang Don realized he had been running in circles for god knows how long. The moment he heard Danny’s voice, alive, battered and bruised, was the best moment of his life. (apart from the day when Danny had told him he had not-so-friendish feelings for him). Don pocketed his phone, making his way to Danny’s location with a lighter step. Telephones might have been a good way to communicate with his life partner while they were both working, but nothing could beat the real face-to-face-communication. Simple, oh so simple.
The next morning neither men took notice of their phones, forgotten in the living room table. They rang for a while, before directing the calls to the voicemail. Whoever was calling should have realized they had something else in their minds than answering the phone.
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