One Week

Fandom: CSI:NY

Author: Kimmychu

Rating: FRAO (we're talkin' Karma Sutra-rating here)

Pairing: Danny/Flack

Content Warning: Major sexual tension, Flack-snark overload, dirty thoughts. Lotsa dirty thoughts.

Spoilers: Meh, nothing important, but to be safe, post Season 2.

Summary: Danny and Flack love to dance the horizontal tango. Everyday. Three times a day. And night. But one day, Flack says yes, and Danny says no. What will Flack the sex maniac do when his lover gives him the ultimatum of no sex … for one whole week?

Disclaimer: YES, THEY BELONG TO ME - I mean, why, of course not, they're just fictional … hot … characters. Mmm, hot.

OoooooooooooooooooooooooooO

Author's Notes: Yep … the story finally concludes in this last installment! - sniff - It feels like another baby of mine has grown up and flown out the nest. Well, I've still got a few more multi-chaptered stories to do, so it's not so bad. Heh. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this last part of the story. At first, I planned for the previous installment to be the last, but then, I felt that Herman deserved a resolution to his story, as well as the thing going on between Mac and Stella. Thank you all for your reviews! I appreciate them all.

OoooooooooooooooooooooooooO

xiii. Kakila

Danny hated going to hospitals, even more so when they were psychiatric hospitals. There was something about them that made shivers run up and down his spine, or the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end. The not-quite-there smell of disinfectant in the air. The drabness of the walls and floors. The overwrought, laden silence that was as heavy as the earth itself.

Hospitals reminded him of pain. The pain of watching over his only brother, lying in that bed in a deep coma, covered in purplish bruises and cuts. Imagining the pain Louie must have gone through, what he might have been thinking in those few moments. Listening to the ventilator pumping air into Louie's lungs. Wondering if it was already too late to say the things he always wanted to tell his brother, from his heart.

He hated going to hospitals, but it wasn't as bad as it used to be. Not since Louie's brown eyes opened and Louie smiled at him, days after doctors told him there was no hope at all for any recovery.

Doctors weren't God. They weren't always right.

And second chances were, beyond doubt, one of the sweetest gifts in the world.

"Detective Messer?" A blonde, short-haired doctor in a white coat approached him in the hospital lobby where he'd been waiting for the last five minutes. She held out her hand, sending him a polite smile. "I'm Marie Evans, one of Herman's doctors."

"Hey, how ya doin'?" Danny replied almost automatically and shook her hand. He returned her smile with one of his own, displaying his pearly teeth and baby fangs.

"What brings you here to Lockhaven Hospital, detective?"

There was an inconspicuous iciness in her brown eyes. Danny could tell she was gauging him. Suspicious of him. The wariness got him edgy, until comprehension dawned on him as to why the doctor was feeling that way in the first place.

Danny's smile grew wider.

"I know how much Herman's teddy bear means to him …" He lifted up the white plastic bag he clasped in his left hand, and pulled a dirt-free, sewn up teddy bear out of it. "So I thought I'd clean it up some and get it back to him. Another police officer found it."

The coldness vanished on the spot from Dr. Evans' gaze, and the smile that curved up her pink lips transformed her from an average-looking woman to a benevolent beauty.

"That's very kind of you, Detective Messer," Dr. Evans said in a happy tone. "Herman hasn't been himself since he lost his teddy." Her expression became more somber, although her eyes were still crinkled in gratitude. "I'm really surprised to see you here, to be honest. Especially after what happened …" She trailed off into silence.

Danny realized she was gazing at the healing bruises on his neck. "Hey, trust me, it looks way worse than it feels. Really."

The doctor gave him a poised smile.

The CSI put the teddy bear back inside the plastic bag. "I know it seems weird for me to wanna visit the guy who kidnapped me, huh?" He scratched the side of his neck. "Guess I shoulda been more specific 'bout why I wanted to pop up here."

Dr. Evans chuckled. Yep, she was definitely warming up to him.

"I'm not here to do any harm to Herman, or for revenge or anythin' silly like that, if that's what you were thinkin'," Danny said in reassurance. "I just … wanted to see how he's doin'."

He paused for a moment.

"For the record, I know his actions weren't intentional. He had no idea what he was doing." He huffed out a tiny laugh. "Seriously, he was more frightened than I was, by the end of it. He's like a child, isn't he?"

The doctor nodded. "A child living in a grown man's body, yes."

Danny angled his head to one side. "He's … autistic?"

"Semi-catatonic. It's the closest diagnosis we have for his condition. He reacts to his name … once in a while. Sometimes he exhibits echolalia." Dr. Evans gesticulated with her hands. "That's a parrot-like repetition of a word or phrase just spoken by another person. Sometimes it's catalepsy."

"Muscular rigidity. Means his limbs will remain in whatever position they're placed, somethin' like that, right?"

"Yes, that's right," Dr. Evans said. "But most of the time, he goes into a complete stupor where he doesn't respond to any external stimuli. He would simply pet his teddy bear in a repeated fashion, or talk with it. It brings him a lot of comfort."

The detective's brows lowered in a discontented frown. "How long has he been like this?"

"Forty-three years. Ever since he was five years old."

Danny's lower jaw sagged. "He's been like this longer than I've been alive."

"There are many other patients in the hospital who are in similar situations. Herman is one of the lucky ones. His father is one of the wealthiest men in the United States, which means Herman will have the best treatment and care at all times." The blonde doctor's expression turned melancholic, with a tinge of cynicism. It was evident she found the concept of only the rich having the privilege of therapy and healing to be less than acceptable.

"So does his dad visit him?"

Dr. Evans gave him a mirthless smile. "I'm sorry, that's confidential."

Danny pursed his lips. "I'm gonna take that as a no."

Her smile became more of a close-lipped grimace.

All of a sudden, Danny felt restless, rocking on his feet. The thought that Herman's very flesh-and-blood - his own father - didn't give a rat's ass about the guy got to the CSI in a very prickly way. It dredged up pangs of empathy deep within him.

"Does Herman ever talk with you 'bout his mom?"

The question seemed to astound Dr. Evans. " … what?"

"Herman. Does he ever talk 'bout his mom?"

The woman stared at him in silence.

Danny became motionless. He cleared his throat. "You mean to tell me … he's never talked about what happened to him?"

"Detective Messer, Herman hasn't directly spoken to anyone in decades. The most animated reaction we've ever gotten out of him, where he displayed some sign of awareness of his surroundings, was six years ago. He responded to some music by waving his arms and rocking in time to it. And even that was brief."

"He talked to me. That's how I found out 'bout his mom."

Dr. Evans motioned towards the elevators near the reception counter of the hospital lobby. "I'll walk with you to Herman's room. Please, do tell me what Herman said to you."

As they stepped into one of the elevators, Danny said, "He kept sayin' over and over that 'the bad men were gone', and he kept askin' me why his 'mommy was so red' … I don't think he knew he was actually talkin' to somebody, but he did answer me whenever I asked somethin'."

The doctor nodded, listening attentively to him.

"So I asked him who the bad men were, and what happened to his mommy, and eventually, he told me 'bout it." He bit his lower lip. "His mom was killed in a house robbery, wasn't she?"

The elevator released a shrill ding, and the doors opened.

"As I mentioned earlier, Herman's father is a very rich man, a billionaire, in fact. When Herman was five years old, a gang of robbers broke into their mansion home. Only Herman's mother was there with him at the time, along with some housemaids, a couple of security guards and their butler. His father was away on a business trip," Dr. Evans said. "Herman was the only one left alive. The police found him in one of the living rooms, hugging a teddy bear, kneeling next to his mother's corpse. Her head had been blown apart by a shotgun, and it happened right in front of him. He was drenched in his mother's blood." Her brown eyes were shuttered. "He's been trapped in that moment of time inside his mind, ever since."

Danny swallowed visibly. That would make anyone lose it. Much less, a little five-year-old child who probably had no idea whatsoever what death was. An innocent, helpless boy whose heart couldn't bear the horrific enormity of what he had witnessed.

"He spoke to you," Dr. Evans murmured, almost to herself. "That's incredible progress. That's very good news."

The blonde doctor was guiding him towards a room midway down the wide corridor, where a tall, muscular black man in an orderly's plain white uniform stood next to the half-open door.

"Good morning, Dr. Evans." The orderly had an exceedingly deep, booming voice. His brilliant smile tempered the fierceness of his broad facial features.

"Chidubem." She returned an equally warm smile. "How is he?"

"Quiet. He's still drawing at his table. First time I've ever seen him do that, doctor. He's quite good," Chidubem said in an accented voice. He eyed Danny with curious, heavy-lidded eyes. After a moment, he looked back at Dr. Evans and his expression hardened. "Dr. Chominsky ordered that he be chained. Herman didn't like it one bit."

The orderly's disgruntled expression indicated he felt the same way.

Danny glanced sharply at the blonde woman beside him.

Dr. Evans sighed. "Dr. Chominsky is Herman's chief doctor, has been for over thirty years now. He's … very strict when it comes to Herman's psychotherapy."

"Chained up? What, is that what this Dr. Chomi-what'shisname does to Herman a lot?" Danny demanded crossly.

Chidubem snorted.

Dr. Evans grimaced. "I'm afraid to say that Herman is prone to … violent episodes, depending on the situation. Dr. Chominsky restrains Herman only if it's absolutely necessary. And whenever they have a therapy session."

"Yeah, that's because he's the only guy around Herman likes to beat up," Chidubem commented with an expansive smirk.

Danny snickered. They only met minutes ago, but he was beginning to like this guy.

"Well, Detective Messer, would you like to see Herman now?" Dr. Evans asked.

Danny gazed through the partially open door into Herman's room. He could see part of a table and the giant man's lower legs and ankles. And the metal bands around them. He scowled. Violent episodes or not, the guy didn't deserve to fettered like some animal at a circus.

"Sure. If it's okay with Herman."

Dr. Evans smiled at him. "Chidubem and I will go in with you."

Herman's room was more like a cell, small as it was. Its one window with its metal grills amplified the sense of unmerited incarceration that hung in the air. The room was sparse of any personal belongings. As a matter of fact, there was nothing in there that Danny saw that could have been deemed personal. The bed with its brown blanket and white pillow were identical to those he observed in other patients' rooms. So was the square table where a disconsolate, lethargic Herman sat. The hulking man was hunched over, dressed in the same beige hospital garb, doodling without purpose on a piece of paper with a piece of red crayon. There were more papers strewn across the table top. Some were blank, some were covered with childish drawings in black and red. The messy sketches all appeared the same.

"Herman?" The blonde doctor slowly neared the table, staying within Herman's sight the whole time. "It's me, Marie. You have a visitor today! Isn't that great?"

Herman didn't react. He continued to scribble on the papers before him, utterly unaware of his surroundings. The chains between his wrists clinked as he did.

Dr. Evans stroked the back of Herman's head, smiling at her patient even though she knew he would never see it. "Herman, what's that you're drawing there? Would you like to tell me?"

Nothing.

The room was very quiet, except for the scrape of a crayon traveling across smooth paper.

Herman's lips were downturned in an upside down 'U' shape. The puffy redness around the man's squinted eyes told Danny the mental patient had been through a crying jag or three. Yeah, he could really relate to that too.

"Look, Herman, there's someone here to see you." Dr. Evans raised her head and gave him a subtle hand wave to approach.

The CSI took measured steps towards Herman and the doctor. He couldn't help feeling a little apprehensive and nervous, the only outward indication of his emotions the clenching of his hand around the handles of the plastic bag with the teddy bear in it. But, it was just a little. The tangible sadness in Herman's glassy, hazel eyes brought out so much more sympathy in him.

"Hey, Herman. Remember me?" Danny asked with an amiable smile.

The room door creaked, and Danny pivoted around to see Chidubem carrying in a chair. Danny thanked the orderly for it, then sat down on it, opposite Herman at the desk.

At first, the big man didn't respond to Danny's greeting. Herman had a black crayon in hand now, scrawling a simplistic drawing of what appeared to be a female stick figure with long hair, attired in a long dress the shape of a triangle. After a few seconds, Herman blinked, and seemed to realize Danny was there sitting in front of him. He lifted his head at a languid pace, gaze flitting here and there, unable to lock itself onto Danny.

"Herman." Danny risked placing his hand on top of Herman's nearest one, which was the man's left. He wasn't worried about Herman involuntarily hurting him again. The orderly Chidubem, who was standing alert behind him, was there to ascertain that wouldn't happen.

"Remember me, big guy? Ya mistook me for yer teddy."

His latter statement prompted the shackled mental patient to straighten up. Those innocent, guileless eyes widened.

"Teddy."

"Yeah, that's right, ya thought I was yer teddy, remember?" The CSI attempted his best to make eye contact with Herman. "Dr. Evans said you haven't been yerself without yer teddy."

"Teddy." The uninhibited sorrow in the man's hoarse voice struck Danny hard.

"Well, guess what, Herman?" Danny took out the teddy bear from the plastic bag and held it aloft, passing it to the gargantuan man with both hands. "Here he is!" He gently shook it to get Herman to look at it. "Look, it's yer teddy!"

There was something very poignant about the overjoyed, baby-like smile that spread across Herman's blocky features, something incredibly sweet and heart-wrenching at the same time.

"Teddy!"

The black crayon fell from Herman's lax right hand onto the table top.

Two large hands plucked the toy out of Danny's grasp.

"Teddy. Found you again, teddy."

There was something even more moving about the way Herman cuddled the furry, clothed bear to his broad chest. The way he tucked it under his chin and petted it with all the affection in the world.

"It's okay now, teddy. Bad men are gone. Safe now."

Dr. Evans, who had stepped aside to give Danny and Herman some space, was smiling tenderly. Her brown eyes glistened in the morning sunlight streaming in through the window.

Danny glanced behind him at the robust hospital orderly in white. Chidubem was smiling too, a close-lipped one that was no less kind. The CSI turned back to face Herman, feeling a weight leave his shoulders, a weight that had been there since he learnt of Herman being chained up. It heartened him to know that Herman was not as alone and unloved as he assumed in the beginning.

He beckoned Dr. Evans to come closer to him.

"I know this is gonna be a strange request," Danny said to her. "Do ya mind if I talked with Herman in privacy? Just for a little while?"

The doctor gazed intensely at him. "Are you sure? He's restrained, but -"

"Yeah, I'm - I'm sure." The ends of Danny's lips curled up. "Thing is, when he talked to me, it was just the two of us. I was thinkin', he might talk again if …" He shrugged.

Dr. Evans glanced at Chidubem, then looked at him once more. "I see what you mean. Alright, if you feel that will help Herman in any way. However, Chidubem has to remain by the door. That's the furthest an orderly can go whenever a blacklisted patient has a visitor. Is that fine with you?"

Danny nodded. "Blacklisted?"

"I - … Breaking out of the hospital is a grave transgression."

"Yeah, well." Danny watched Herman rocking back and forth in his seat, hugging his teddy. Narrowed his blue eyes at the sunlight reflecting off the steel rings around the mental patient's wrists, and the chain drooping between them. "If I was locked up like an animal in a cell for decades and nobody gave a damn 'bout me, I'd wanna escape too."

Dr. Evans' eyes spoke volumes.

"Please don't hesitate to call for us if you require assistance, Detective Messer."

Danny nodded a second time. "Sure."

The click of the door closing echoed within the room.

Herman was ruffling his teddy bear's head, his eyes almost shut, mumbling under his breath.

Danny had no clue whether the giant man would respond to him now that they were alone. What occurred that night might have just been a fluke.

Nevertheless, he had to give it a shot.

"Remember me, Herman? It's Danny."

Herman was staring blankly at his own doodles. "Danny."

"Yeah, that's right." Danny sent him a benign smile. "My name's Danny Messer. I'm a crime scene investigator. That means I examine crime scenes. Ya know, look for evidence to catch bad guys."

"Bad guys." Herman glanced from side to side, eyes never lingering on a single spot for long.

Danny sighed. This must be the echolalia thing Dr. Evans mentioned. Herman was merely repeating what he was saying.

He tapped his fingers on the cool table surface. Looked down at the drawings scattered around. He squinted while he studied one closest to him. It was a very rudimentary but clear image of a long-haired woman in a dress, scrawled all over in red, particularly around the head. Danny didn't need to guess twice what the red color represented.

Time for a different tactic.

"Who's this, Herman?" Danny said with a mellow timbre, pointing at one of the crayon doodles. "Ya wanna tell me 'bout her?"

Herman seemed to not have heard his query at all. The man continued to stroke his teddy bear, quiet and smiling to himself.

"Herman." Danny tapped the tip of one forefinger on a drawing. "Who is she, Herman? Can you tell me who she is?"

"Mommy."

The blue-eyed detective perked up in his seat. Was that just a random answer, or was Herman actually reacting to him?

"Mommy," Herman said again. "Mommy sleeping?"

The man's eyes were huge and ingenuous, transfixing Danny where he sat.

The CSI pursed his lips into a thin line. His hands tightened into fists on the table surface. There was such an immense part of him that ached to tell Herman a comforting lie, a lie that his mother was alive and well.

Danny gritted his teeth. No. It was wrong.

Only the truth would ever set Herman free.

"No, Herman. She isn't sleepin'." He took a deep breath, tensing up. "She's dead."

An uneasy ten seconds of silence passed by.

Herman had become motionless. Those big, hazel eyes kept gazing at Danny.

"Dead … what is dead?"

Danny's eyelids flickered shut over suddenly hot eyes.

He wasn't in a tiny room in a psychiatric hospital anymore. He was back at that cemetery, blaming the bright morning sun for the stinging wetness in his eyes. Staring at the dark brown coffin that housed the skeletal remains of one of his best friends, who had been a beautiful, sarcastic, witty woman, a woman he might have been in love with once upon a time. Sensing Flack's reassuring arm around his shoulders, the strength that flowed into him from his other best friend.

How could he explain death to a childlike, mentally scarred man … when he didn't even begin to comprehend it himself?

"It's …" Danny coughed in order to clear his congested throat. "When somebody dies … it means they're no longer alive. Alive, like you and me." He leaned forward over the table, looking Herman in the eye. "When somebody's alive, it means they … their souls are still inside their bodies. Do you understand?"

Herman did nothing but blink.

The CSI bit his lower lip.

Then, the perfect idea struck him.

Danny opened his jacket and rummaged through the inner pockets on the left side. Once he found what he was searching for, he tugged it out, leaving it on the table between them.

The colossal mental patient inclined forward to stare at the latex glove, acting as if he was interested in what it was supposed to be.

"This is a glove I use for work, Herman," Danny said. He picked up the glove, and shook it to show the man how flimsy and light it was. "It's made from latex. That's a synthetic, rubber-like substance ya get from rubber trees."

Danny slipped on the glove on his right hand.

"See, this glove is like a person's body … and my hand is like the soul of that person."

He wriggled his fingers for Herman to see.

"When somebody's alive, their soul is inside their body. You can tell because they can move and talk and laugh and all that. But when they die …"

Danny slowly removed the glove and placed it on the table, a puddle of pale yellow latex.

"Their soul leaves the body. And the body becomes nothin' more than an empty shell."

He waited with patience for any response from Herman.

Herman was still staring at the glove, angling his head from side to side, then looking here and there, but not really seeing anything.

A minute went by.

All of a sudden, Herman gazed straight into Danny's eyes.

"Where … does it go?"

A surprised albeit pleased grin gradually split the CSI's lower face. Well, damn. Against all the odds, Herman understood what he'd said.

"The soul?"

"The soul," Herman mimicked. His large right hand was resting on the table top, over his drawings and near the glove.

Danny laid his left hand on Herman's hand and patted it.

"Well … it goes to a place called heaven." Danny smiled compassionately. "See, heaven's a special place, 'cause people can only go there after their souls leave their bodies. And it's a very special place because it's a place where there's no more pain … no more sadness, no more heartache." He sucked in a moist breath. "No more death."

Even as he said all this, anguish-tainted memories flowed to the forefront of his thoughts, flashing images of Aiden, with her long, brunette hair billowing in the spring breeze. Aiden, laughing anyway at one of his awful jokes, playfully punching him in the arm. Aiden, hugging him and Flack as she told them how happy she was they'd finally used their brains and gotten together after so long -

"Is she … there?"

Herman's mellifluous question jolted Danny out of his sorrowful reminiscence.

The bespectacled detective stared at the shackled man, his blue eyes wide and gleaming.

He gave Herman a wavering smile, and he said with a hoarse voice, "Yeah … yeah, she is."

Something began to unravel within Danny's chest.

"No bad men?"

Fire and smoke suddenly flooded Danny's mind, an appalling vision of a car set on fire, a raging funeral pyre. He ground his teeth together. Blinked, and the imagery was replaced with that of Aiden's murderer behind bars, the metal door slamming shut with a clang. And above all else, the fear in Pratt's eyes while he stared out through the gaps between those steel rods.

"No bad men. Ever," Danny said firmly.

Herman nuzzled his nose and mouth into his teddy bear's head, between its ears.

Danny glanced downwards at his left hand on the table. Somehow, the mental patient's hand was now on top of his, warm and dry.

The physical contact triggered yet another recollection of Aiden, one that took place nearly four years ago, when they were still getting to know each other. He and Aiden were at Sullivan's, after a long day shift of tedious lab work and evidence processing. It was just the two of them. For some reason, everyone else had their own plans for the night, including Flack. Danny had been disappointed with the homicide detective's absence at the start, but as the evening progressed, Danny found that he really enjoyed Aiden's company.

He remembered the way the ambient lights of the bar seemed to make Aiden's eyes glow. He remembered how close she was to him, inches apart. He remembered her hand, a feather's touch, on his. Remembered the softness of her lips against his. A butterfly kiss that was all too brief.

"I like you too, Danny, but … we both know the truth. He's the one. And some day, I hope he'll see it too."

The impact of Aiden's words had yet to fade.

Danny's vision was blurry.

And someone was patting his hand.

"She's okay."

Placid, hazel eyes grounded him in the present.

Danny couldn't say a word, his breath hitched. It was unreal. He had come to visit Herman with the original objective to spend some time with the man, to show he had no hard feelings about his inadvertent kidnapping. Maybe even comfort the unfortunate mental patient.

He never expected it to be the other way around.

The CSI ruminated on something insightful Hawkes once said. Not many people knew it, but, scientist that he was, Hawkes believed in God as well. The former medical examiner confessed that his faith sometimes wavered in the onslaught of death and injustice they faced in their daily work. Yet, there was one thing he was forever sure of, that when it felt like it was the end of the line, when it seemed like nobody at all cared, God had a way of passing on a message of hope via the most unlikely ways and people.

"She's … okay."

Herman left his hand resting on Danny's. He was glancing here and there in an erratic fashion again, clutching his teddy bear tightly, face devoid of expression.

Danny placed his right hand on top of Herman's, sandwiching it between both of his to return the gesture of consolation. Was Herman really aware of what he was saying, or was he just uttering random words? Danny concluded that it was, perhaps, one of those things that wasn't meant to be known.

He sat there in a calm, peaceful silence with the shackled man for a long while, asking Herman questions whenever the man said anything coherent, optimistic that Herman would talk a little more. He didn't even realize how long he'd been in the room till Dr. Evans appeared out of the blue beside him.

"I'm sorry, Detective Messer. It's time for Herman's therapy session this morning."

Danny acknowledged the doctor's remark with a nod. He got to his feet, pulling away his hand with some reluctance from beneath Herman's, who didn't notice the action.

"You take care a' yerself, a'right?" The blue-eyed detective rubbed Herman's smooth head. "I promise I'll visit ya as often as I can."

Herman was doodling on the papers on his desk once more, oblivious to the world around him.

Outside in the hallway, Danny noticed that Chidubem was gone. He must have been called to another room or something. After Dr. Evans stepped out of the room, she turned to Danny and started to speak. Danny cut in with, "There's somethin' I wanna ask ya."

The doctor stilled. "What is it?"

"I noticed all the doors of the patients' rooms have pretty hi-tech locks."

"Yes, they're activated using passwords punched into the number keypad. We want to make sure the patients don't leave their rooms unsupervised."

"Hmmm." Danny raised his head to gaze at the security cameras attached to the ceiling, evenly spaced out down the corridor. "And those cameras, are they on all the time?"

"Of course. Security is a top priority."

Danny gave her a meaningful look. "I was thinkin' 'bout how it was possible for a guy like Herman to be able to escape the hospital, what with all these hi-tech security, ya know? I mean, a five-year-old kid in a man's body … he wouldn't even know where to begin with the lock on his door, much less avoid bein' detected by the cameras and hightailin' it outta here."

Dr. Evans wasn't making eye contact with him, which made him more certain than ever that his suspicion was accurate after all.

"You sprung him, didn't ya?"

The blonde woman was quiet for a second, then said, "Yes. I did. And I've done it more than once. Herman, he's … he was always well-behaved whenever we went outside, and he was under my constant supervision. But that night, Herman dropped his teddy bear and -" An anxious, penitent expression materialized on her visage. "I'm so sorry, detective. I know if I hadn't sneaked Herman out that night, you wouldn't have had to experience what you did. I just - I just couldn't bear to see him imprisoned in there, day and night … and Dr. Chominsky's treatments, I … I won't blame you if you decide to report me, Detective Messer -"

"Whoa, whoa, hold on a minute there, Doc." Danny chuckled, his eyes crinkled. "I'm not gonna report you."

"You … you won't?"

"Nah." Danny grinned. "On the contrary, I think it's great of ya to do that for Herman. I was half thinkin' a' doin' it myself, and maybe give Dr. Chomiminiskee a taste of his own medicine."

Dr. Evans laughed. Her expression was back to its early jovial mode.

"Thank you."

One of the CSI's eyebrows shot up. "What for?"

"For caring about Herman," Dr. Evans said with an indebted beam in her brown eyes. "And bringing some peace to his heart."

Danny gazed through the open door at the giant man, sitting under the vivid, cascading sunshine, snuggling his broad face against his teddy bear. The detective smiled.

"Believe me … he wasn't the only one who found some peace today."

OoooooooooooooooooooooooooO

"That's the way! Uh huh, uh huh, I like it!"

Flack's shoes made piercing, squeaky noises as he danced across the floor of the glass-walled laboratory.

"That's the way! Uh huh, uh huh, I LIKE it!"

Danny sniggered. Okay, his blue-suited lover wasn't quite dancing. It was more like … some weird aberration of the robot dance and the tango combined.

"Don, what are ya doin'?!" Danny had to bite his lower lip to stop himself from going into a full blown laughing fit.

Flack pirouetted to a halt in front of Danny, who sat on a stool near a color printer, still humming that song under his breath. "Doin'? What's it look like I'm doin'? I'm dancin'!"

Danny made a funny noise between his pursed lips. "No, you're not."

"Yes, I am, Mr. Smartypants," Flack retorted, making a funny face. "Just like I did at the party at yer apartment the night before!"

"Thank God everybody was too drunk to notice you havin' seizures, ya freak." Danny's sarcastic words were toned down by the undeniable grin on his face.

"Admit it, babe, you're just jealous of my booty." Flack pirouetted a second time and wiggled his bottom from side to side.

Danny lost whatever self-control he had left, laughing until his eyes were scrunched shut at Flack's taunt. What! Booty?! Everybody knew he was the one who had the best booty in the labs! And since when did Flack know how to whirl around and around like a ballerina like that?

It took a while for the CSI to regain his composure. Flack wasn't making it any easier by doing a parody of the Moonwalk, and then tripping and falling on his ass. The clumsy klutz.

"Geez, you're in a jolly mood today," Danny said with an immense amount of affection.

Flack, whose lanky limbs were all akimbo, grinned like a naughty boy at him from the floor.

A low droning noise emanated from the printer, and Danny glanced at it. Ahh, the DNA results were out. He sauntered over to the machine.

In an instant, two strong arms wrapped around his midriff from behind.

"Guess I'm still in the party mood," Flack murmured into his ear. The homicide detective nuzzled his face into Danny's exposed neck above the collar of his blue, V-necked sweater.

"Don … I dunno if you've noticed, but the lab has glass walls." Danny elbowed Flack in the tummy.

"Doesn't matter. I'll just tell 'em I'm doin' some karate move on ya or somethin'."

Danny snorted.

Flack's arms tautened around his torso.

He felt Flack's lips moving against his ear.

"You looked so damn good in that cheerleader's costume."

Blunt teeth nibbled on his ear lobe.

"Specially that … g-string … and those socks."

Danny gasped.

"You're wearin' them now … aren't ya?"

The CSI's eyelids fluttered.

Without warning, somebody in a white lab coat walked past the lab.

"Don!" Danny elbowed Flack in the belly once more, harder than the last time.

Flack let out a grunt. The pressure around Danny's midriff disappeared.

The hallway outside the laboratory was empty again.

The paper with the DNA results printed on it drifted from Danny's hand down onto the table surface. He twisted around and smacked the taller man hard on his chest, eyes wide in mortification.

"Ya nut! Somebody might have seen us!"

The homicide detective couldn't answer, because he was snickering too much. His shoulders shook with mirth. Danny whacked him a second time in the same spot.

"Owww, will ya quit that?" Flack rubbed at the left side of his chest, pouting at the shorter detective. Suddenly, his blue eyes narrowed wickedly. "Dooooooon't make me dance some more."

Danny's lips twitched in amusement. "Oohh no, you don't -"

"I'm gonna daaaaaaance -"

"Don't you dare -"

Oh crap, Flack was doing those awful, awful dance moves that were mercifully obsolete since the eighties. Danny might love the man with his entire heart, but there were some things about his lover that caused even him to scream.

And not in the good way.

With a yell of terror, Danny slapped his hands over his eyes, cupping the lenses of his spectacles with his palms.

"Your butt is miiine, gonna take you right -"

Danny's shout grew exponentially in volume.

Oh shiiiit, of all the songs the dork had to pick, he had to pick one by Michael Jackson!

"Because I'm baaaaad, I'm baaad, you know it! Because I'm baaaaad, I'm baad -"

A recognizable, female voice rang clear in the air, overwhelming Flack's brain-exploding singing.

"Oh. My. GOD."

Danny gambled the safety of his sanity by opening his eyes and taking a look at the lab's doorway.

It was Stella, dressed in a khaki-colored, scoop-neck top with black pants, gaping in complete horror at Flack.

"Flack. For the sake of the fragile future of the universe, please don't EVER do that again."

Danny burst out laughing.

Flack's mien flushed.

"I do NOT dance that bad!"

"Yeah. Says the man who's singing he's baaaad," Stella said with a humorous face while she ambled into the lab to stand with them. She was holding what appeared to be a big, brown envelope that was sealed and contained some papers inside it.

The handsome homicide detective wrinkled his nose at her in a snooty manner.

Danny snickered under his breath.

Up close, Danny noted the wicked gleam in Stella's green eyes. Uh oh, his Greek peer was up to something -

Stella waved a finger at the both of them, smirking.

"You two are sooooo doing it."

Danny jerked where he stood. He stared at Stella, his mouth in the shape of an 'O'. What the? How did -

His mental reflexes kicked in.

"What! What are ya talkin' 'bout, Stell?" Danny exclaimed with a laugh. He crossed his arms over his chest. Sniffled once. He sent Flack an intense, pointed look, his visage deceptively blank. "Don, did ya hear what she said?"

Flack was unusually quiet. The man glanced at Stella with wide eyes, then back at Danny, then back at Stella.

Danny decided to aim his gaze at Stella instead.

Oh man, if Stella ever considered becoming an actress, she'd be ideal for the role of a sexy, nefarious bad girl. Her red lips were curved up in a very naughty smile.

"Sooooo." Stella looked at Flack from beneath lowered eyelids. "Cindy, have you tried out those new positions I recommended?"

The world stopped.

Danny felt the ground drop out from below him.

His jaw had to be somewhere around his feet.

"You -" Danny turned his head so fast, his neck made a cracking sound. "Don! She knows!"

Flack was grimacing. "Yeah. I know." The grimace became wider.

"You know?!" One of the shorter detective's hands flew to his hair, yanking on the brown tufts. "YOU KNOW?!"

The homicide detective winced, rearing back from Danny's bellow. "I had to, Danny, alright? I was missin' ya like crazy, and I didn't know what to do!"

Before Danny could reply, Stella spoke up.

"Danny, don't blame him." She smiled kindly at him. "The only reason he told me was because I, well." It was her turn to grimace. "I kind of … threatened to tell Mac about it, if he didn't."

The bespectacled detective's other hand joined its counterpart on his head. "Whaaaaaaat?!"

Stella lifted the envelope in front of herself, a feeble shield against Danny's wrath. "I had to get Flack to talk, Danny. You didn't see him in the locker room that day … he was … he was really torn up over you."

Flack was staring at something on the floor, his face somewhat red.

"And when he did tell me about your relationship, you know what he said to me? He was willing to sacrifice his whole career and future, his life, if it meant that it would protect you and keep you from being hurt." Stella gazed at the tall homicide detective, her brilliant green eyes tender and filled with something akin to admiration. "This is a man who really loves you, Danny."

Danny lowered his arms to his sides. He stared at Flack, who still had his head bowed.

" … ya really said that?"

Flack's expression was bashful. "Yeah."

It literally pained Danny to be unable to hug and kiss the taller man silly like he yearned to, right there and then. His heart felt like it was about to explode into a billion pieces. He thought it was impossible that he could love Flack any more than he already did.

Wow, was he wrong or what.

The blue-eyed CSI blinked numerous times, promising himself to make the coming night one heck of a night to remember for Flack. And after many minutes of staring into Flack's gorgeous baby blues, he eventually tore his gaze away from his other half to Stella.

"So, uhm." Danny cleared his throat. "I'm guessin' you're okay with us then, huh?"

Stella grinned from ear to ear. "Okay? I've known about you two from the start."

Danny's eyebrows shot up. "The start?"

"Yeah. You guys can get quite noisy." Stella tilted her head. "The door of the locker room isn't as thick as you think." She winked.

Danny's face went beet red. It took him a few moments to reply with, "If you've known 'bout Don and I all this time … why haven't ya told anyone 'bout us?" He suddenly grimaced. "Not that I want ya to do that."

The Greek CSI puckered her lips. Uhh oh, she had that glint in her eyes again -

"Actually … I have."

"Please, tell me it's not Mac," Danny implored in a gruff voice.

The grimace was back on Stella's face. "Uhm. Yeah."

"WHAT?!" Flack's mien was red for a very different reason now. "You promised you wouldn't tell him!"

The two men advanced on a worried Stella, who started taking steps backwards. "Don, Danny, listen to me, I had to tell him -"

Flack and Danny backed her into one of the tables, towering over her, arms folded across their broad chests.

"I had to tell him because -" - Stella squeezed her eyes shut - "IfIdidn'ttellhim, Iwouldn'thavewonthebetaboutyoutwoinarelationship, andwewouldn'tbeinoneourselves."

Both men gaped at her.

After some time spent deciphering Stella's rushed sentence, Flack asked, "Did you say … what I think ya did?"

Stella peeled open one eye. "If I didn't tell him … I wouldn't have won the bet about you two in a relationship … and we wouldn't be in one ourselves."

Flack made a waving motion in the air with his forefinger. "You … and Mac?"

Stella licked at her lips, watching them with wary eyes. "Uh hmm."

The two guys stared at her some more, and then at each other. Then, they glanced back at her in unison, and said together, "Well, it's about time."

It was hilarious seeing Stella lose it for a change.

"What!" Her lower jaw dropped. After a second, she laughed out loud, her eyes crinkled in amusement. "Well! You guys are ones to talk!"

Danny laughed as well.

"Hey! What's that s'pposed to mean?!" Flack yelled.

"Five years ring a bell to you?"

Flack made a face in answer to Stella's question. "'Least I came to my senses a year ago. You and Mac have been workin' together even longer than Danny and I have!"

The Greek CSI and the homicide detective had a staring showdown that lasted an approximate seven seconds. It abruptly ended with Stella opening her arm, grinning and saying, "Come here, you."

Flack was more than happy to embrace her. "See, I told ya I always get my man."

Stella chuckled at that.

Watching his two friends from a short distance, Danny smiled to himself. Huh. Things went much better than he anticipated. Ever since he and Flack got involved in a serious relationship, one of his biggest fears was that his colleagues would discover what was going on. That, and their negative reactions to it. He'd been so sure Stella would be one of those who reacted badly. It was nice to be proven wrong.

"Hey, you," Stella said to Danny. "Come here."

Danny loved receiving hugs from Stella. Now, knowing that Stella acknowledged and was totally fine with his relationship with Flack, they felt even sweeter. He rested his chin on her shoulder, closing his eyes when he felt her hand affectionately ruffling his shorn hair.

"I guess Mac's cool with it too, then," Danny said, after Stella broke the hug. He smirked. "He hasn't fired me." The smirk changed into a slight grimace. "Yet."

"Don't worry, he won't. Not if he wants to stay with me." Stella's eyes turned sultry. "And believe me, he does."

Flack whistled.

"Anyway …" Stella sent Flack a mock reprimanding look, then handed Danny the envelope that had been in her clasp all this time. "This is for you."

Curiosity roused, the blue-eyed CSI took it from her and examined it. The address to CSI headquarters had been handwritten. There was no written return address, but he didn't need it. The chunky logo of Lockhaven Hospital at the top left corner of the envelope informed him well enough where the mail originated from.

"Met somebody at the hospital, Danny?" Stella said in a teasing manner. She smirked at him.

Danny cackled softly. He twirled the large envelope in his hands, wondering why Dr. Evans would send him mail. It had to be her, since she was the only one who knew who he was, and that he'd been there to visit Herman. And there was no way Herman, his mind the way it was, could post anything to him.

"Wait a sec." Flack's thick brows were low in a contemplative frown. "Mac's not the kinda guy to just take somebody at their word. Not without proof."

Stella raised one refined eyebrow.

The homicide detective glanced at her, frown transforming into a semi-suspicious one. "Okay, Stella. What'd ya show 'im?"

The Greek woman appeared utterly prepared for that precise query.

"Weeell … you remember the party at Danny's apartment."

Flack's eyes narrowed. "Yeeaaah."

"Well …" Stella shuffled her feet. "Sometimes, when you go to a party, and your friends are all enjoying themselves and they're too drunk to notice anything …"

Flack's eyes narrowed even more. "Yeeeaaaah?"

Stella suddenly grinned like a cat at Danny. "Cucumbers and carrots, I get. But … aubergines?"

Danny's jaw was somewhere on the floor once more.

Holy crap.

Stella found their contract of one week's celibacy! And showed it to Mac. With his and Flack's signatures on it.

"Oh, shit. You didn't," Danny said with vehemence.

Flack was still trying to work out what Stella was insinuating. The man let out something between a confounded grunt and a growl, scratching at the side of his neck.

"Annnnnd with that, I'm going to go." Stella winked at Danny. "See you boys later!"

Stella dashed to the laboratory door.

As if in slow motion, Flack's blue eyes widened to comical proportions as comprehension dawned on him.

The homicide detective's mouth fell open.

"STEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

Outside the lab, Stella screamed at the sight of Flack sprinting to the door and broke into a run, vanishing out of sight down the corridor. Flack was swift on her heels, all gangly, flailing limbs, roaring at the top of his voice.

"STEEEEEEEELLA, GET BACK HERE!"

Stella's almost inaudible laughter that floated to his ears was ultimately what cracked Danny up. He returned to the stool he vacated earlier, sitting down hard and clutching his side at the hilarity of it all. Oh, damn, how was he ever going to look at Mac's face again, without wondering if the guy knew he wasn't adverse to shoving veggies up his ass?

By the time he was coughing himself out of his laughing fit, he had tears in his eyes. He put the envelope on the table beside him, removed his spectacles and put them on top of the envelope, then wiped his face dry with his hand. Geez, he hadn't laughed like that in a long time.

He soon realized he was alone in the room. No idea when Flack was going to return from his Stella-hunting expedition. He could always phone the guy anyway.

"Let's see what ya got for me, Dr. Evans," Danny murmured to himself, putting his glasses back on.

He peeled open the glued flap, and tugged out two pieces of paper, one bigger than the other. The smaller one was a handwritten letter. Danny decided to read that first. He brought it closer to his face, squinting a bit at the black, cursive words.

Detective Messer,

I thought that you might appreciate the attached drawing to this letter. It was drawn by Herman a few days after your visit. He's doing much better than he has in years, and is actually responding more and more to people and his surroundings. I foresee even more improvement in his condition in the months to come. I don't know exactly what the two of you discussed during your visit, but, whatever it was, it has made all the difference in the world to him.

For that, I will always be grateful.

Herman sends his regards.

Best wishes,

Dr. Marie Evans.

Danny folded up the letter, a soft smile on his face. Way to go, Herman. Dr. Evans' progress report was wonderful news on an already wonderful day. He placed the letter aside, then plucked up the rectangular paper that displayed Herman's sketch.

The longer he gazed at it, the more blurry his sight became. He wasn't a guy who was easily moved to tears, not unless it was something that struck him deep in the heart. And the colorful drawing in his hands was one such something.

It was a straightforward image of a sunny day outside, as depicted by the yellow sun with its wavy rays, and the green grass and the little iridescent flowers scattered all over it. There were two people in the middle of it all, a woman with long hair and a small boy holding her hand and huggling a teddy bear.

They were smiling.

Fin.