Emily (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2006-11-03 03:40 pm
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2006-11-03 03:40 pm
Steele/Stella - Dinner with a Friend
guess what guess what guess what? i got my computer back! yay! *dances*
Fandom: CSI:NY/Conviction
Title: Dinner with a Friend
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
iluvroadrunner6
Rating: FRT
Pairing: Jim Steele/Stella Bonasera
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
csi50 Prompt: something humans do
fic_variations Prompt: thanks/thankful (#1)
Content Warning: Spoilers for "Open and Shut"
Summary: Sometimes it's nice just to have dinner with a friend.
Author's Note: This is the Stella/Steele fic i wanted to post a week ago, before my computer was viciously attacked. The attack is over and now I'm posting it, slightly modified to fit my new claim over atfic_variations
For Reference: CSI:NY and Conviction. If you have a question, don't be afraid to ask, I don't mind answering.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of CSI:NY or Conviction. They're owned by CBS and NBC.
“I am impressed, Counselor,” Stella Bonasera said as Jim Steele sat across the table from her, “You actually made it to dinner.”
“Yes, Detective, I am actually capable of being somewhere on time,” Jim replied, pulling the napkin off the table and arranging it over the lap of his suit pants.
“Or showing up at all,” she teased and he looked up at her with a smirk.
“That only happened once, and I paid for it with my life if I remember correctly,” Jim grinned, and she smirked.
“Uh-huh,” Stella nodded, “All it takes is once Steele, and then the next thing you know you’re waiting out in front of a restaurant in the rain, wondering if the person that you’re supposed to be eating dinner with is going to actually show up, or just leave you standing there to get wet.”
“If I remember correctly, Miss Bonasera, I am the one paying for dinner,” he sighed, “So if you are just going to sit here and ride me for forgetting about our last engagement, I could go and leave you here to foot the bill, if that’s what you really want.”
“Alright, alright, I get it,” she grinned before glancing back down at the menu, “No more mentions of last week.”
“I really am sorry about that, Stella,” he said, the joking tone gone from his voice, “I still don’t know how I forgot.”
“I do,” Stella replied, “But that doesn’t matter now, does it?”
“No it doesn’t,” he nodded, “What matters is deciphering this menu—now, when you said Greek, I didn’t realize that the menu would be in Greek as well.”
“You can’t go Greek, unless you go Greek, Jim,” she sighed, “I’m sure you know that.”
“I’ve heard other things about going Greek, but they didn’t involve food,” he teased, and she kicked him lightly under the table, “Could you tell me what’s good here? Since I am incapable of reading the menu.”
She started rambling off some of the foods, still in their original Greek, and he leaned over the table and whispered to her, “I love it when you speak Greek.”
She rolled her eyes, “Yes, this is payback for leaving me out in the rain.”
“That’s what I thought.”
***
“This,” Jim began, gesturing with his fork down to his food, “Is damn good food.”
“Would you expect anything less?” Stella replied, “I did pick the restaurant.”
“That is very true. You do have impeccable taste.”
“Thank you, Counselor.”
He then shifted in his seat, leaning forward on his elbows, and Stella knew it was now time to get down to business. And she wasn’t happy about it. Because it meant the tone of their conversation would go from lighthearted fun to deadly serious.
“The defense has not made an attempt to strike you from the witness list,” he began softly, “Which means that they’re either going to attack your credibility, or try to use your experience with Frankie Mala as a way to prove their point about the defendant, that this was all self-defense. Or do both.”
“So what do you want me to do?” Stella sighed, suddenly feeling very, very tired.
“Be direct when you answer his questions. Don’t give more information than you have to,” Jim replied, “If he takes even a step out of line, I’ll be on my feet faster than you could blink, but you can’t let him rattle you.”
“And what if he does?” Stella asked, “What if he rattles me, and I screw it up?”
“He won’t,” he said with a smile, “You’ll eat him alive, but I have to tell you these things anyway.”
She gave him a small smile before shaking her head, “I hate that she did that to me. That Grace Thomason manipulated me like that.”
“She’s a therapist,” Steele replied, “I couldn’t even begin to count the number of times that Skoda talked me into a corner, and I didn’t even realize it. And I’m supposed to do it for a living.” Stella laughed, her smile growing wider.
“You actually see Skoda?”
“Branch forces us to see him at least once a year, and then I had mandatory grief counseling when Mike was gunned down,” a brief sober look crossed his face before his usual easy-going grin replaced it, “He says it’s the most fun he has all year, because he likes it when I actually try to talk him out of talking about things.” He paused, “That’s the one time I actually lose.”
“Be careful there, Jim,” she said with a wink, “You might not be able to walk out of the door with that ego.”
She was grateful that this was Jim handling the case, someone who she was familiar with, who would make sure she was taken care of. Jim may be not so kind to his lovers, but to his friends, he was practically infallible.
He laughed, and then leaned back in his chair, and studied her for a second, “Why do we do this, Stella?”
“Do what, Jim?”
“Have dinner and bullshit about completely useless things, and then talk about the topic at hand for as little as humanly possible, finding a way out of it as soon as we can?”
She shrugged, “It’s what humans do, Jim. They don’t want to have to talk about the uncomfortable stuff any more than they have to, so as soon as we can we change the subject.”
He sat there in silence for a moment, his eyes trained on her for a second. He was thankful she counted him as friend rather than foe, or worse, inconsequential. Having a woman like Stella dismiss you as though it wouldn’t matter to her if you existed was probably a lot worse than having every woman in New York think you’re a lying dog. “You’re an amazing woman. I hope you realize that.”
She gave him a shy smile before responding, “If you’re trying to sleep with me, it’s not going to work. I know how you operate Jim.”
He gave her a grin, before signaling for the check, “And if it’s just the truth?”
“Thank you,” she said with a smirk, “And I do realize that.” She leaned forward on the table, resting her forearms against the table, “Why do men give compliments, and the claim they’re entirely innocent, when the women really do know that they have an ulterior motive?”
The waiter placed the check in his hand, and he gave her a nonchalant shrug. “Just something humans do.”
Fandom: CSI:NY/Conviction
Title: Dinner with a Friend
Author:
iluvroadrunner6Rating: FRT
Pairing: Jim Steele/Stella Bonasera
csi50 Prompt: something humans dofic_variations Prompt: thanks/thankful (#1)Content Warning: Spoilers for "Open and Shut"
Summary: Sometimes it's nice just to have dinner with a friend.
Author's Note: This is the Stella/Steele fic i wanted to post a week ago, before my computer was viciously attacked. The attack is over and now I'm posting it, slightly modified to fit my new claim over at
fic_variationsFor Reference: CSI:NY and Conviction. If you have a question, don't be afraid to ask, I don't mind answering.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of CSI:NY or Conviction. They're owned by CBS and NBC.
“I am impressed, Counselor,” Stella Bonasera said as Jim Steele sat across the table from her, “You actually made it to dinner.”
“Yes, Detective, I am actually capable of being somewhere on time,” Jim replied, pulling the napkin off the table and arranging it over the lap of his suit pants.
“Or showing up at all,” she teased and he looked up at her with a smirk.
“That only happened once, and I paid for it with my life if I remember correctly,” Jim grinned, and she smirked.
“Uh-huh,” Stella nodded, “All it takes is once Steele, and then the next thing you know you’re waiting out in front of a restaurant in the rain, wondering if the person that you’re supposed to be eating dinner with is going to actually show up, or just leave you standing there to get wet.”
“If I remember correctly, Miss Bonasera, I am the one paying for dinner,” he sighed, “So if you are just going to sit here and ride me for forgetting about our last engagement, I could go and leave you here to foot the bill, if that’s what you really want.”
“Alright, alright, I get it,” she grinned before glancing back down at the menu, “No more mentions of last week.”
“I really am sorry about that, Stella,” he said, the joking tone gone from his voice, “I still don’t know how I forgot.”
“I do,” Stella replied, “But that doesn’t matter now, does it?”
“No it doesn’t,” he nodded, “What matters is deciphering this menu—now, when you said Greek, I didn’t realize that the menu would be in Greek as well.”
“You can’t go Greek, unless you go Greek, Jim,” she sighed, “I’m sure you know that.”
“I’ve heard other things about going Greek, but they didn’t involve food,” he teased, and she kicked him lightly under the table, “Could you tell me what’s good here? Since I am incapable of reading the menu.”
She started rambling off some of the foods, still in their original Greek, and he leaned over the table and whispered to her, “I love it when you speak Greek.”
She rolled her eyes, “Yes, this is payback for leaving me out in the rain.”
“That’s what I thought.”
***
“This,” Jim began, gesturing with his fork down to his food, “Is damn good food.”
“Would you expect anything less?” Stella replied, “I did pick the restaurant.”
“That is very true. You do have impeccable taste.”
“Thank you, Counselor.”
He then shifted in his seat, leaning forward on his elbows, and Stella knew it was now time to get down to business. And she wasn’t happy about it. Because it meant the tone of their conversation would go from lighthearted fun to deadly serious.
“The defense has not made an attempt to strike you from the witness list,” he began softly, “Which means that they’re either going to attack your credibility, or try to use your experience with Frankie Mala as a way to prove their point about the defendant, that this was all self-defense. Or do both.”
“So what do you want me to do?” Stella sighed, suddenly feeling very, very tired.
“Be direct when you answer his questions. Don’t give more information than you have to,” Jim replied, “If he takes even a step out of line, I’ll be on my feet faster than you could blink, but you can’t let him rattle you.”
“And what if he does?” Stella asked, “What if he rattles me, and I screw it up?”
“He won’t,” he said with a smile, “You’ll eat him alive, but I have to tell you these things anyway.”
She gave him a small smile before shaking her head, “I hate that she did that to me. That Grace Thomason manipulated me like that.”
“She’s a therapist,” Steele replied, “I couldn’t even begin to count the number of times that Skoda talked me into a corner, and I didn’t even realize it. And I’m supposed to do it for a living.” Stella laughed, her smile growing wider.
“You actually see Skoda?”
“Branch forces us to see him at least once a year, and then I had mandatory grief counseling when Mike was gunned down,” a brief sober look crossed his face before his usual easy-going grin replaced it, “He says it’s the most fun he has all year, because he likes it when I actually try to talk him out of talking about things.” He paused, “That’s the one time I actually lose.”
“Be careful there, Jim,” she said with a wink, “You might not be able to walk out of the door with that ego.”
She was grateful that this was Jim handling the case, someone who she was familiar with, who would make sure she was taken care of. Jim may be not so kind to his lovers, but to his friends, he was practically infallible.
He laughed, and then leaned back in his chair, and studied her for a second, “Why do we do this, Stella?”
“Do what, Jim?”
“Have dinner and bullshit about completely useless things, and then talk about the topic at hand for as little as humanly possible, finding a way out of it as soon as we can?”
She shrugged, “It’s what humans do, Jim. They don’t want to have to talk about the uncomfortable stuff any more than they have to, so as soon as we can we change the subject.”
He sat there in silence for a moment, his eyes trained on her for a second. He was thankful she counted him as friend rather than foe, or worse, inconsequential. Having a woman like Stella dismiss you as though it wouldn’t matter to her if you existed was probably a lot worse than having every woman in New York think you’re a lying dog. “You’re an amazing woman. I hope you realize that.”
She gave him a shy smile before responding, “If you’re trying to sleep with me, it’s not going to work. I know how you operate Jim.”
He gave her a grin, before signaling for the check, “And if it’s just the truth?”
“Thank you,” she said with a smirk, “And I do realize that.” She leaned forward on the table, resting her forearms against the table, “Why do men give compliments, and the claim they’re entirely innocent, when the women really do know that they have an ulterior motive?”
The waiter placed the check in his hand, and he gave her a nonchalant shrug. “Just something humans do.”