Emily (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2006-11-19 11:46 pm
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2006-11-19 11:46 pm
Mac/Lindsay - A Matter of Respect
these two are frustrating...jeez.
Fandom: CSI:NY
Title: A Matter of Respect
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
iluvroadrunner6
Rating: FRT
Pairing: Mac Taylor/Lindsay Monroe
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
15pairings Prompt: "Show some respect!"
Content Warning: N/A
Summary: The way things stood between them were really a matter of respect.
Author's Note: Fortinga13. Who said she was dying for some Mac/Lindsay fic.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of CSI:NY. They're owned by CBS.
“Show some respect!”
The little voice came roaring up from the back of her head every time she started paying more attention that she should to Mac Taylor. She knew she really shouldn’t. He’s her boss. She’s only been working for him a year, year and a half now? It was disrespectful. It was distasteful. It was unprofessional.
Yet there she was, supposedly processing evidence, but really just taking the opportunity to stare through the glass walls of the rooms to where Mac was standing in front of her. She would will herself to glance down at what he was doing, but she would hear him coming and look up, watch him as he talked with Stella, or Flack, or Danny, depending on the case he was working. There was something about him that just commanded attention, and she found herself, at times, all too willing to give it to him. Then again, there was that little voice in the back of her head:
He’s your boss.
She was well aware of that fact. She was so very aware of that fact. And she hated it. Because she could so easily be stereotyped as the kind of girl who just went after her boss. Or maybe she was sleeping her way through. Wanted to climb the ranks in the lab on her back. Which she wasn’t.
She just really wanted to be the one Mac Taylor went home to every night.
She dropped her eyes as he started to turn her way, felt his eyes watching her through the glass as she processed the evidence. She kept her head bent, listened for the sounds of his shoes walking away, and once they were gone she looked up again. She couldn’t keep doing this. It was bad enough having to deal with this when she had to speak to him, it was worse when she was just alone with her thoughts. When she was talking to him, she had to present the evidence, not worry about her feelings. When she was just watching—it was so much harder to focus.
Especially at times like this one when she needed to.
***
He watched her as she interrogated the suspect with Flack through the two-way mirror, wondering if she knew how solidly she held his attention. She probably did, she was usually more observant than she let on, but he wondered if she knew the reasons why. The reason he usually tried to keep in the back of his mind, in the area he tended to ignore whenever necessary.
She works for you.
It was a matter of respect. He couldn’t act on those feelings. Not that everyone else would know about this relationship at first, but he didn’t want to think about how people would look at her when they found out she was in a relationship with her boss. There were so many negative connotations that came with it in this day and age, and he didn’t want those connotations to fall on her. She didn’t deserve it.
He was just listening at this point, watching, and Lindsay was starting to get into the perp’s face, leaning in so that he was forced to look at her.
“Get out of my face, bitch,” the man growled.
“Watch your mouth,” Flack said from the corner where he was sitting.
“Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you could keep a leash on this bitch,” he emphasized the word just to throw it back in Flack’s face, “And keep her out of my face.”
“Maybe I wouldn’t have to be in your face if you didn’t shoot two people in cold blood,” Lindsay shot back.
“I didn’t shoot nobody,” the suspect growled.
“Evidence says you did,” Lindsay said, “We’ve got your gun, with your prints on in, and gun shot residue all over your clothes.”
“Those ain’t mine,” he continued.
“We’ve also got witnesses who can testify to the fact that you shot these people,” Flack replied, “That pretty much shoots down the idea that you ‘didn’t shoot nobody.’”
What happened next happened so fast that Mac didn’t know what was going on, but he was heading towards the door of the interrogation room without even a second thought. When he entered, the table was on its side. Lindsay and Flack were both on the ground, dazed, and the suspect was running right towards him. He caught the man around the middle, and spun him into the nearest wall.
“Those are two members of the New York Police Department,” Mac growled in the man’s ear as he forced his hands behind his back, “One of whom is a woman. You show them the respect they deserve.” Once he was properly restrained, Mac shoved the man in the direction of the uniform in the room, and turned around to see Flack on his feet, extending his hand to Lindsay.
“You alright?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she sighed, shaking her head as he helped her to her feet, “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Mac watched what followed in the exchange between them, sensing something he hadn’t seen before.
“You sure?” Flack continued, a look of concern on his face, “You looked like you hit your head—”
“I’m fine, Flack,” she said, “You alright?”
“Me? Yeah, I’m fine,” he nodded, giving her a smirk, “Gonna take a little more than that to do some damage.”
She gave him a nod and a smile before her eyes met Mac’s over Flack’s shoulder. There was something there that Mac hadn’t picked up on before, and it was as though he knew what it was, but didn’t want to jinx himself by saying anything.
Flack glanced back and forth between his two coworkers, and suddenly found the air in the room getting very, very awkward. He cleared his throat softly before reaching for the table that was still askew on the floor.
“Could one of you help me with the—”
They snapped out of the trance they had been in at this point, and he and Flack righted the table, while Lindsay collected the scattered evidence. Mac knew that from here on out, things weren’t exactly going to get any easier. In fact, they probably were going to get a lot harder.
But they would have to deal with that when the time comes.
Fandom: CSI:NY
Title: A Matter of Respect
Author:
iluvroadrunner6Rating: FRT
Pairing: Mac Taylor/Lindsay Monroe
15pairings Prompt: "Show some respect!"Content Warning: N/A
Summary: The way things stood between them were really a matter of respect.
Author's Note: For
tinga13. Who said she was dying for some Mac/Lindsay fic.Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of CSI:NY. They're owned by CBS.
“Show some respect!”
The little voice came roaring up from the back of her head every time she started paying more attention that she should to Mac Taylor. She knew she really shouldn’t. He’s her boss. She’s only been working for him a year, year and a half now? It was disrespectful. It was distasteful. It was unprofessional.
Yet there she was, supposedly processing evidence, but really just taking the opportunity to stare through the glass walls of the rooms to where Mac was standing in front of her. She would will herself to glance down at what he was doing, but she would hear him coming and look up, watch him as he talked with Stella, or Flack, or Danny, depending on the case he was working. There was something about him that just commanded attention, and she found herself, at times, all too willing to give it to him. Then again, there was that little voice in the back of her head:
He’s your boss.
She was well aware of that fact. She was so very aware of that fact. And she hated it. Because she could so easily be stereotyped as the kind of girl who just went after her boss. Or maybe she was sleeping her way through. Wanted to climb the ranks in the lab on her back. Which she wasn’t.
She just really wanted to be the one Mac Taylor went home to every night.
She dropped her eyes as he started to turn her way, felt his eyes watching her through the glass as she processed the evidence. She kept her head bent, listened for the sounds of his shoes walking away, and once they were gone she looked up again. She couldn’t keep doing this. It was bad enough having to deal with this when she had to speak to him, it was worse when she was just alone with her thoughts. When she was talking to him, she had to present the evidence, not worry about her feelings. When she was just watching—it was so much harder to focus.
Especially at times like this one when she needed to.
***
He watched her as she interrogated the suspect with Flack through the two-way mirror, wondering if she knew how solidly she held his attention. She probably did, she was usually more observant than she let on, but he wondered if she knew the reasons why. The reason he usually tried to keep in the back of his mind, in the area he tended to ignore whenever necessary.
She works for you.
It was a matter of respect. He couldn’t act on those feelings. Not that everyone else would know about this relationship at first, but he didn’t want to think about how people would look at her when they found out she was in a relationship with her boss. There were so many negative connotations that came with it in this day and age, and he didn’t want those connotations to fall on her. She didn’t deserve it.
He was just listening at this point, watching, and Lindsay was starting to get into the perp’s face, leaning in so that he was forced to look at her.
“Get out of my face, bitch,” the man growled.
“Watch your mouth,” Flack said from the corner where he was sitting.
“Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you could keep a leash on this bitch,” he emphasized the word just to throw it back in Flack’s face, “And keep her out of my face.”
“Maybe I wouldn’t have to be in your face if you didn’t shoot two people in cold blood,” Lindsay shot back.
“I didn’t shoot nobody,” the suspect growled.
“Evidence says you did,” Lindsay said, “We’ve got your gun, with your prints on in, and gun shot residue all over your clothes.”
“Those ain’t mine,” he continued.
“We’ve also got witnesses who can testify to the fact that you shot these people,” Flack replied, “That pretty much shoots down the idea that you ‘didn’t shoot nobody.’”
What happened next happened so fast that Mac didn’t know what was going on, but he was heading towards the door of the interrogation room without even a second thought. When he entered, the table was on its side. Lindsay and Flack were both on the ground, dazed, and the suspect was running right towards him. He caught the man around the middle, and spun him into the nearest wall.
“Those are two members of the New York Police Department,” Mac growled in the man’s ear as he forced his hands behind his back, “One of whom is a woman. You show them the respect they deserve.” Once he was properly restrained, Mac shoved the man in the direction of the uniform in the room, and turned around to see Flack on his feet, extending his hand to Lindsay.
“You alright?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she sighed, shaking her head as he helped her to her feet, “Yeah, I’m fine.”
Mac watched what followed in the exchange between them, sensing something he hadn’t seen before.
“You sure?” Flack continued, a look of concern on his face, “You looked like you hit your head—”
“I’m fine, Flack,” she said, “You alright?”
“Me? Yeah, I’m fine,” he nodded, giving her a smirk, “Gonna take a little more than that to do some damage.”
She gave him a nod and a smile before her eyes met Mac’s over Flack’s shoulder. There was something there that Mac hadn’t picked up on before, and it was as though he knew what it was, but didn’t want to jinx himself by saying anything.
Flack glanced back and forth between his two coworkers, and suddenly found the air in the room getting very, very awkward. He cleared his throat softly before reaching for the table that was still askew on the floor.
“Could one of you help me with the—”
They snapped out of the trance they had been in at this point, and he and Flack righted the table, while Lindsay collected the scattered evidence. Mac knew that from here on out, things weren’t exactly going to get any easier. In fact, they probably were going to get a lot harder.
But they would have to deal with that when the time comes.
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Anyway, loved it. I like that you had it from both of their prospectives. You need to write more. Like now! (lol I'm so demanding)
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the plan is to write the last fic for this claim (stella/hawkes) tomorrow, after i'm done with my classes.
i'm glad you liked it.
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You are a goddess, my dear.
Love the tension....I could literally feel it!!!!!
Great work!
**going to read again**
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i guess that worked out well for me.
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lindsay didn't want to pay attention. i put flack in there so that she would cooperate. and threatened her with sending her back to montana early in my flack/lindsay series.
i'm glad you liked it though.
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and i dunno...i guess i'll have to write that eventually huh?
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