Emily (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2006-10-05 05:36 pm
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2006-10-05 05:36 pm
Flack/Lindsay - Hard Goodbyes
how does emily cope with the angsting of one of her lindsay ships? writing more angst about the one she prefers. and she hadn't written flacklindsay angst in a longlonglonglong time, and she missed it. *nods*
these fics for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fivebyfiction are gonna be a little mini-FM series. but since emily can't write anything in order, she decides to start at the end. just cuz she can.
Fandom: CSI:NY
Title: Hard Goodbyes
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
iluvroadrunner6
Rating: FRT
Pairing: Don Flack/Lindsay Monroe
fivebyfiction Prompt: Trumps
Content Warning: N/A
Summary: Just came to say goodbye, love/goodbye love/just came to say goodbye love/goodbye - "Goodbye Love" from RENT
Author's Note: Beginning of the series "The Sigh of a Faraway Song." But yet, it is the end, because Emily doesn't like starting things in the beginning. Or is it? *wiggles eyebrows suggestively*
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of CSI:NY. They're owned by CBS.
I did not live until today
How can I live when we are parted?
Tomorrow you’ll be worlds away
And yet with you my world has started.
- “One Day More” from Les Misérables
“You’re really going back, huh?”
Don was leaning in the doorway, watching her as she packed, loading the little pieces of herself scattered around her apartment into boxes and suitcases, making sure she left nothing behind. He had thought she was kidding at first. She hadn’t seriously been considering going back to Montana. He knew things were bad, but he didn’t think she needed to do that.
“Yeah,” she said, stiffly, “I’m really going back.” Don’t do this, she begged silently in her head, Please, God, don’t do this.
She had loved New York. She loved the city, and the people she worked with were like second family to her. But that didn’t mean her first family didn’t come first. Things were starting to get bad back home and they needed her there. Sometimes, you needed to make sacrifices for family.
He moved from the doorframe, and moved to the pile sitting on the bed. She looked up at him in confusion, and he shrugged, “Figured you could use the help.”
She gave him a silent look of thanks before continuing to pack. Don knew that there was nothing he could say to get her to stay. Family trumps job. Family trumps friends. Family trumps boyfriend. He just wished that there was something he could do, something he could say to keep her from hurting as much as she was. She wasn’t talking to him and cutting him out like this wasn’t helping make this any easier.
They loaded up a few boxes before either of them actually spoke again.
“Linds,” he began, trying to figure out the right way to word this so not to upset her, “What’s goin on? With you, I mean.” The look in his eyes clearly told her that he was worried, and he wasn’t about to talk her out of anything, he just wanted to make sure she was OK. And she appreciated that. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to get more into things than she already had with him. It was already breaking her heart to have to leave him, she didn’t need it to heal somewhat, only to have it broken again.
“I’d rather not go into—” her voice trailed off, tongue searching for the words to try and not offend him, but get across the fact that she really didn’t want to drag him into her family’s mess.
“That’s fine,” he murmured, slightly hurt that she wouldn’t talk to him, but knowing she probably had her reasons, glancing at her quickly before continuing to pack.
She felt like she was being suffocated. It wasn’t just him, it was everything that was going on, and it was like there was this giant weight sitting on her chest, trying to crush her under it, and she just couldn’t breathe.
“Don, I really appreciate you doing this, but—” she began, her voice suddenly working of its own accord.
“You want me to go,” he finished for her, putting down whatever it was he had been packing and heading for the door. “That’s fine. I’ll give you some space.” He turned and started to walk when she lashed out and grabbed his wrist, suddenly not wanting him to leave so soon. He turned to her and frowned, the look on his face clearly telling her ‘what do you want?’
Damnit, Monroe, make up your mind, she scolded herself. But she couldn’t. She wanted him to stay, but she knew it was only going to make things harder on her end, but she didn’t want to do this alone either.
“What do you need, Lindsay?” he asked quietly, as the hand on his wrist loosened and all she could do was look at him. He could see the torment in her eyes, and how she knew what she wanted to do, and what she felt she had to do, but really didn’t know which one to chose, and she was tearing herself up about it. Her mouth started opening and closing, working, trying to find the words, but really couldn’t. She then gave up, the tears welling into her eyes, moving towards him and burying her face in his chest.
“Don’t leave,” she whispered, the murmur of her words barely audible, but he knew what she meant.
“I won’t,” he replied, placing a kiss to the top of her forehead, “I won’t.”
***
“Call me when you get on the ground, alright?” he said, as they stood outside the airport. They’d weighed all her luggage in, and all she had left was her carry on and herself.
“I will,” she nodded, before stepping forward and pulling him into one last kiss, “Thank you.”
“It’s what I’m here for,” he replied, and she gave his hand one last squeeze.
“Bye—”
“FLACK!” was followed by something smacking him the back of the head, shocking him out of his reverie. He turned and saw Angell standing there, file in her hand.
“What the hell, Angell?” he frowned.
“I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past ten minutes,” she sighed, “You got a call. DB over in the theater district. Mac wants you to drive the new CSI over.”
“Can’t she find her own way around town?” he sighed, rubbing his eyes slowly as he took the address from her.
“Nope,” Angell grinned, “Guess where she’s from?”
“Really not in the mood, Angell.”
“Just guess.”
“No.” There was such a firm and irritated tone to his voice that Angell wasn’t about to ask him to guess again.
Something was mumbled about taking away her fun, before she surrendered the information, “Beverly Hills.”
“You shouldn’t have told me this,” Don replied as he got up, “Now I already know I’m not gonna like her.”
“Oh, you mean like the way you told me you couldn’t stand country girls,” Danny replied, approaching them and giving the man a look. Flack shot Danny an angry one in return, before pushing past them and heading out to his car.
“Be nice, alright,” Danny shouted after him, and Flack dismissed him with a wave of his hand. Angell smacked him in the head with her folder, and he gave her a look, “What?”
“You’re not helping,” she stated, before turning back to the retreating Flack. “Is he gonna be OK?”
“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” Danny replied, “Just needs a little time, that’s all.” She was silent, until Danny snatched the folder out of her hands. “For the case?”
“Yeah,” she said, her head snapping back into detective mode, “It turns out—”
these fics for
fivebyfiction are gonna be a little mini-FM series. but since emily can't write anything in order, she decides to start at the end. just cuz she can.Fandom: CSI:NY
Title: Hard Goodbyes
Author:
iluvroadrunner6Rating: FRT
Pairing: Don Flack/Lindsay Monroe
fivebyfiction Prompt: TrumpsContent Warning: N/A
Summary: Just came to say goodbye, love/goodbye love/just came to say goodbye love/goodbye - "Goodbye Love" from RENT
Author's Note: Beginning of the series "The Sigh of a Faraway Song." But yet, it is the end, because Emily doesn't like starting things in the beginning. Or is it? *wiggles eyebrows suggestively*
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of CSI:NY. They're owned by CBS.
I did not live until today
How can I live when we are parted?
Tomorrow you’ll be worlds away
And yet with you my world has started.
- “One Day More” from Les Misérables
“You’re really going back, huh?”
Don was leaning in the doorway, watching her as she packed, loading the little pieces of herself scattered around her apartment into boxes and suitcases, making sure she left nothing behind. He had thought she was kidding at first. She hadn’t seriously been considering going back to Montana. He knew things were bad, but he didn’t think she needed to do that.
“Yeah,” she said, stiffly, “I’m really going back.” Don’t do this, she begged silently in her head, Please, God, don’t do this.
She had loved New York. She loved the city, and the people she worked with were like second family to her. But that didn’t mean her first family didn’t come first. Things were starting to get bad back home and they needed her there. Sometimes, you needed to make sacrifices for family.
He moved from the doorframe, and moved to the pile sitting on the bed. She looked up at him in confusion, and he shrugged, “Figured you could use the help.”
She gave him a silent look of thanks before continuing to pack. Don knew that there was nothing he could say to get her to stay. Family trumps job. Family trumps friends. Family trumps boyfriend. He just wished that there was something he could do, something he could say to keep her from hurting as much as she was. She wasn’t talking to him and cutting him out like this wasn’t helping make this any easier.
They loaded up a few boxes before either of them actually spoke again.
“Linds,” he began, trying to figure out the right way to word this so not to upset her, “What’s goin on? With you, I mean.” The look in his eyes clearly told her that he was worried, and he wasn’t about to talk her out of anything, he just wanted to make sure she was OK. And she appreciated that. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to get more into things than she already had with him. It was already breaking her heart to have to leave him, she didn’t need it to heal somewhat, only to have it broken again.
“I’d rather not go into—” her voice trailed off, tongue searching for the words to try and not offend him, but get across the fact that she really didn’t want to drag him into her family’s mess.
“That’s fine,” he murmured, slightly hurt that she wouldn’t talk to him, but knowing she probably had her reasons, glancing at her quickly before continuing to pack.
She felt like she was being suffocated. It wasn’t just him, it was everything that was going on, and it was like there was this giant weight sitting on her chest, trying to crush her under it, and she just couldn’t breathe.
“Don, I really appreciate you doing this, but—” she began, her voice suddenly working of its own accord.
“You want me to go,” he finished for her, putting down whatever it was he had been packing and heading for the door. “That’s fine. I’ll give you some space.” He turned and started to walk when she lashed out and grabbed his wrist, suddenly not wanting him to leave so soon. He turned to her and frowned, the look on his face clearly telling her ‘what do you want?’
Damnit, Monroe, make up your mind, she scolded herself. But she couldn’t. She wanted him to stay, but she knew it was only going to make things harder on her end, but she didn’t want to do this alone either.
“What do you need, Lindsay?” he asked quietly, as the hand on his wrist loosened and all she could do was look at him. He could see the torment in her eyes, and how she knew what she wanted to do, and what she felt she had to do, but really didn’t know which one to chose, and she was tearing herself up about it. Her mouth started opening and closing, working, trying to find the words, but really couldn’t. She then gave up, the tears welling into her eyes, moving towards him and burying her face in his chest.
“Don’t leave,” she whispered, the murmur of her words barely audible, but he knew what she meant.
“I won’t,” he replied, placing a kiss to the top of her forehead, “I won’t.”
***
“Call me when you get on the ground, alright?” he said, as they stood outside the airport. They’d weighed all her luggage in, and all she had left was her carry on and herself.
“I will,” she nodded, before stepping forward and pulling him into one last kiss, “Thank you.”
“It’s what I’m here for,” he replied, and she gave his hand one last squeeze.
“Bye—”
“FLACK!” was followed by something smacking him the back of the head, shocking him out of his reverie. He turned and saw Angell standing there, file in her hand.
“What the hell, Angell?” he frowned.
“I’ve been trying to get your attention for the past ten minutes,” she sighed, “You got a call. DB over in the theater district. Mac wants you to drive the new CSI over.”
“Can’t she find her own way around town?” he sighed, rubbing his eyes slowly as he took the address from her.
“Nope,” Angell grinned, “Guess where she’s from?”
“Really not in the mood, Angell.”
“Just guess.”
“No.” There was such a firm and irritated tone to his voice that Angell wasn’t about to ask him to guess again.
Something was mumbled about taking away her fun, before she surrendered the information, “Beverly Hills.”
“You shouldn’t have told me this,” Don replied as he got up, “Now I already know I’m not gonna like her.”
“Oh, you mean like the way you told me you couldn’t stand country girls,” Danny replied, approaching them and giving the man a look. Flack shot Danny an angry one in return, before pushing past them and heading out to his car.
“Be nice, alright,” Danny shouted after him, and Flack dismissed him with a wave of his hand. Angell smacked him in the head with her folder, and he gave her a look, “What?”
“You’re not helping,” she stated, before turning back to the retreating Flack. “Is he gonna be OK?”
“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” Danny replied, “Just needs a little time, that’s all.” She was silent, until Danny snatched the folder out of her hands. “For the case?”
“Yeah,” she said, her head snapping back into detective mode, “It turns out—”
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You're so evil. Now I'm getting into this.
lol So don't stop now!!
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which i'm writing sometime soon.
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nice
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but i might give some other ending when after i write the beginning.
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BTW, your icon is awesome.
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icon credit goes to
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