Emily (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2006-08-09 12:56 pm
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2006-08-09 12:56 pm
Flack/Stella - Comfort in Silence
Fandom: CSI:NY
Title: Comfort in Silence
Author: Me!
Rating: FRT
Pairing: Don Flack/Stella Bonasera
Prompt: N/A
Content Warning: Spoilers for "Charge of This Post"
Summary: Stella took the silence for what it was. A good sign. A sign that he was going to be with her a few more minutes—hours—days—months. She wasn’t ready to let him give up yet. Stella's POV.
Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.
Stella sat on the edge of his bed, staring back at the sleeping face in front of her. She had been waiting so long, just to be alone with him. First, it was all five of them, sitting in the waiting room, wondering if he was going to be OK. Then, his family and parents, and Stella wasn’t going to step in their way. Finally Mac went in to see him, wanting some closure from a past Stella wasn’t even sure about.
Mac was still there, passed out in a chair in the corner. But there was silence. And at this point in time, when it concerned him, silence was golden. Silence was blessed. Silence meant there wasn’t anything going wrong.
Blip—Blip—Blip—Blip—
But then again, silence also meant that there wasn’t anything going right either.
However, Stella took the silence for what it was. A good sign. A sign that he was going to be with her a few more minutes—hours—days—months. She wasn’t ready to let him give up yet. Not when she was just starting to find him again.
He had been a kid when they had first met. Well, not a kid, but he was younger than she was. She had seen more of the world, knew more of what not to trust. But what woman could resist the youthful charm, energy, passion, whatever the hell it was—it sucked you in like a vacuum, and rarely ever let you go. It had been fun, it had been what it was, and when they actually started to work cases together, she didn’t want the dynamic they had to change. So she told him that it was the best for the team. She didn’t want things to be uncomfortable. And he said he understood.
And he had kept his distance. They were friends and co-workers. He didn’t cross lines; he didn’t push her into corners. He respected her space and her wishes. Not that he hadn’t to begin with, but she had never met a man her own age who had taken being dumped with such grace or poise. It blew her away.
And then she met Frankie. And for a while, whatever emotions she still had where pushed aside as she was wrapped up in this eccentric, artsy, soulful man. Who wound up almost killing her and pushing her to kill him. In the most confusing, out of control, frightening moments of her life, this other, younger, more compassionate man, was there.
Don was there.
And then Don was there again that night at her apartment. Again, he didn’t come to invade her space, he didn’t come to push her into a corner, he just came to be there. And that was all she asked. But he wound up inadvertently doing the other things anyway.
She smiled softly as she remembered the way he had tried to be a gentleman, tried to respect her space and the condition she was in. But he couldn’t. She knew him too well. She knew what buttons to push to get him where she wanted him. And she took every opportunity to push them.
Sure, she had taken advantage of him. Sure, she had been in a screwed up frame of mind, and she was just looking for comfort of any kind, and if it had been any other male figure she was comfortable with—Danny, Hawkes, maybe even Mac—she might have still done the same thing.
But doing it to Don was so much easier because she already knew how.
And the next morning, they parted again as friends. There was still that same grace, the same poise. He knew that this had been what she needed, and he was there to make sure she got it, no questions asked. He didn’t give her any impression that he felt like he’d been used, that he’d been hurt, that he hated her for what she had done. He didn’t add to her guilt, and for that she was eternally grateful.
Slowly, she reached forward, placing her hand in his warm one, and squeezing the weak grip. He didn’t respond to her, but his hand was warm. Reminding her he wasn’t dead. Reminding her he was still breathing. Reminding her she still had a chance to fix this.
***
Stella let Don lean somewhat on her arm as they made their way down the streets of the city. They hadn’t wandered too far from his building, because he was still awkward with his movements, but she could see a lot of his old stride returning to his step, he smile was back on his face, and the scars were fading.
Stopping to rest on a bench nearby, she was telling him stories of how the lab was going without him. They all missed him like they had to breath, but not much had changed. Danny was still calling Lindsey ‘Montana’ and Lindsey was still flirting back. Mac was still Mac, Hawkes said hello and hoped he would be back soon. He took every story with a smile, each laugh seemed to build from a soft chuckle, to the point where it hurt, and he would try not to show it, but she could read him like a book. She knew the discomfort he was feeling.
“Hey, Stella,” he sighed staring off into the distance in front of him, “How are you doing?”
“Huh?” she said, caught off guard by the base question he asked her.
“You’ve told me about everyone else, but next to nothing about you,” he glanced down at her, the bright blue eyes shining with curiosity.
“I’ve been OK,” she replied, “Nothing to tell.”
He glanced away from her, down to his hands, and she knew he knew her better than that. She knew his next question before it even left his lips. And the smile that crossed his face wasn’t cocky. It wasn’t that typical, self-possessed, proud smile that one would expect from this kind of situation. It was just the normal shy smile that was very much Don.
“How bad did I scare you?”
Even though she had anticipated the question, a short, curt laugh rippled up through her throat, and she gave him a smile.
“Pretty bad, Don,” she admitted softly, “Pretty bad.”
“Didn’t mean to,” he answered innocently, as though he was a child.
“I know,” she grinned, “Who means to get themselves blown up?”
“True,” he replied with a laugh.
She looked up at him for a second, before dropping a soft kiss on his cheek. “I’m just glad you’re OK.”
He looked at her softly for a second, and knew. He didn’t have to ask, he didn’t have to guess. He just knew. He turned back off to stare at the point he had found earlier, and she rested her head against his shoulder, just content to be sharing the moment with him, not asking for much more or less.
Title: Comfort in Silence
Author: Me!
Rating: FRT
Pairing: Don Flack/Stella Bonasera
Prompt: N/A
Content Warning: Spoilers for "Charge of This Post"
Summary: Stella took the silence for what it was. A good sign. A sign that he was going to be with her a few more minutes—hours—days—months. She wasn’t ready to let him give up yet. Stella's POV.
Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.
Stella sat on the edge of his bed, staring back at the sleeping face in front of her. She had been waiting so long, just to be alone with him. First, it was all five of them, sitting in the waiting room, wondering if he was going to be OK. Then, his family and parents, and Stella wasn’t going to step in their way. Finally Mac went in to see him, wanting some closure from a past Stella wasn’t even sure about.
Mac was still there, passed out in a chair in the corner. But there was silence. And at this point in time, when it concerned him, silence was golden. Silence was blessed. Silence meant there wasn’t anything going wrong.
Blip—Blip—Blip—Blip—
But then again, silence also meant that there wasn’t anything going right either.
However, Stella took the silence for what it was. A good sign. A sign that he was going to be with her a few more minutes—hours—days—months. She wasn’t ready to let him give up yet. Not when she was just starting to find him again.
He had been a kid when they had first met. Well, not a kid, but he was younger than she was. She had seen more of the world, knew more of what not to trust. But what woman could resist the youthful charm, energy, passion, whatever the hell it was—it sucked you in like a vacuum, and rarely ever let you go. It had been fun, it had been what it was, and when they actually started to work cases together, she didn’t want the dynamic they had to change. So she told him that it was the best for the team. She didn’t want things to be uncomfortable. And he said he understood.
And he had kept his distance. They were friends and co-workers. He didn’t cross lines; he didn’t push her into corners. He respected her space and her wishes. Not that he hadn’t to begin with, but she had never met a man her own age who had taken being dumped with such grace or poise. It blew her away.
And then she met Frankie. And for a while, whatever emotions she still had where pushed aside as she was wrapped up in this eccentric, artsy, soulful man. Who wound up almost killing her and pushing her to kill him. In the most confusing, out of control, frightening moments of her life, this other, younger, more compassionate man, was there.
Don was there.
And then Don was there again that night at her apartment. Again, he didn’t come to invade her space, he didn’t come to push her into a corner, he just came to be there. And that was all she asked. But he wound up inadvertently doing the other things anyway.
She smiled softly as she remembered the way he had tried to be a gentleman, tried to respect her space and the condition she was in. But he couldn’t. She knew him too well. She knew what buttons to push to get him where she wanted him. And she took every opportunity to push them.
Sure, she had taken advantage of him. Sure, she had been in a screwed up frame of mind, and she was just looking for comfort of any kind, and if it had been any other male figure she was comfortable with—Danny, Hawkes, maybe even Mac—she might have still done the same thing.
But doing it to Don was so much easier because she already knew how.
And the next morning, they parted again as friends. There was still that same grace, the same poise. He knew that this had been what she needed, and he was there to make sure she got it, no questions asked. He didn’t give her any impression that he felt like he’d been used, that he’d been hurt, that he hated her for what she had done. He didn’t add to her guilt, and for that she was eternally grateful.
Slowly, she reached forward, placing her hand in his warm one, and squeezing the weak grip. He didn’t respond to her, but his hand was warm. Reminding her he wasn’t dead. Reminding her he was still breathing. Reminding her she still had a chance to fix this.
***
Stella let Don lean somewhat on her arm as they made their way down the streets of the city. They hadn’t wandered too far from his building, because he was still awkward with his movements, but she could see a lot of his old stride returning to his step, he smile was back on his face, and the scars were fading.
Stopping to rest on a bench nearby, she was telling him stories of how the lab was going without him. They all missed him like they had to breath, but not much had changed. Danny was still calling Lindsey ‘Montana’ and Lindsey was still flirting back. Mac was still Mac, Hawkes said hello and hoped he would be back soon. He took every story with a smile, each laugh seemed to build from a soft chuckle, to the point where it hurt, and he would try not to show it, but she could read him like a book. She knew the discomfort he was feeling.
“Hey, Stella,” he sighed staring off into the distance in front of him, “How are you doing?”
“Huh?” she said, caught off guard by the base question he asked her.
“You’ve told me about everyone else, but next to nothing about you,” he glanced down at her, the bright blue eyes shining with curiosity.
“I’ve been OK,” she replied, “Nothing to tell.”
He glanced away from her, down to his hands, and she knew he knew her better than that. She knew his next question before it even left his lips. And the smile that crossed his face wasn’t cocky. It wasn’t that typical, self-possessed, proud smile that one would expect from this kind of situation. It was just the normal shy smile that was very much Don.
“How bad did I scare you?”
Even though she had anticipated the question, a short, curt laugh rippled up through her throat, and she gave him a smile.
“Pretty bad, Don,” she admitted softly, “Pretty bad.”
“Didn’t mean to,” he answered innocently, as though he was a child.
“I know,” she grinned, “Who means to get themselves blown up?”
“True,” he replied with a laugh.
She looked up at him for a second, before dropping a soft kiss on his cheek. “I’m just glad you’re OK.”
He looked at her softly for a second, and knew. He didn’t have to ask, he didn’t have to guess. He just knew. He turned back off to stare at the point he had found earlier, and she rested her head against his shoulder, just content to be sharing the moment with him, not asking for much more or less.
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Very much enjoying. :)
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and All Access is where i really fell in love with this two. their my babies. just don't tell any of my 20 million other ships. ;)
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