Disclaimer: I don't own CSI: NY.
Series: 'Kindred Spirits'.
Spoilers: Minor for Dead Inside, although only a small part from the actual episode and if you haven't seen it, you probably aren't reading this right now.
This idea popped into my head when I got a review for 'The Lying Game' saying 'I always wondered when Don actually realised that he had fallen for Jess.' I thought briefly about rewriting some of my oneshots from Don's POV, but I've got an X-Men multi-chapter on the go, this series, plus two NCIS multi-chapters and I thought to myself 'Do I really want to do that to myself?' And the answer was no, so I created this little gem – of course, I think it's a little gem; you might think it's an iceberg …
Sorry, that was a badly misplaced lettuce joke and I do apologise; it's late, I'm tired and I'm rambling.
My point is: this is dedicated to jessicaflack, who gave sent me the plot-bunny. Now, if only I could stop it from ruining the garden …
Falling for Her
Despite his later convictions, no one would ever believe Don hadn't acted in exactly the way he'd intended to when he called Jess back.
But as he walked back towards her, the light from a lone street-lamp illuminating her, he couldn't help remembering the rush of jealousy when he'd heard her say 'I love you' on the phone earlier.
Just the thought of her with another man made him feel sick and he had acted before he realised, cupping her face in his hand and kissing her, feeling his legs begin to shake when she responded.
He pulled away first, pressing another, more desperate kiss to her lips, trying to convey everything he was thinking, needing her to understand.
When he opened his eyes, she was staring at him in shock, her hair slightly tousled, her lips swollen, but with a hint of desire in her eyes that told him he had a chance, and he swore she'd never looked more beautiful.
But he needed to approach this carefully.
He needed to think this through, because he could not lose her.
"Thanks." He whispered simply, before walking away.
He knew she knew him well enough to know that he needed space and he knew she needed hers as well, but he wasn't surprised when he ended up outside her apartment, knocking on the door with some apprehension.
She let him in with the same concerned expression she'd had outside the motel. "You okay?"
"You kissed me." Don stated.
"Er, I think your memory's failing you." Jess teased, a beautiful smile on her face. "I think you'll find that you kissed me."
"Yeah, but you responded." Don smirked. "That's gotta mean something."
"It does." Jess confirmed in a calm voice. "It means you're a good kisser, Detective. You want some coffee." She was giving him the option to walk away, but he wasn't going to take it.
Don reached out and caught her waist, feeling her still under his touch. "You're changing the subject, Jessica." He murmured, his mouth millimetres away from her neck.
He'd probably never tell her, but he loved her name. And he'd probably never tell her, because she'd expect a reason and he didn't have one.
It suited her perfectly and part of her wished that he hadn't gotten into the habit of only using her full name when the matter was very serious, because he loved saying it, as well as the shiver that ran down her spine when he did, the shiver she thought he didn't see.
He could still remember her telling him that, as clear as though it was yesterday; the day he finally admitted that it was hopeless pretending he didn't feel anything.
She'd called him back to the car after dropping him off and then hesitated, tugging her lower lip between her teeth in a movement that was a cross between adorable and sexy.
"Jessica. That's my name. Everyone calls me Jess. And if this gets out, you're a dead man."
Although he pretended to understand, he still didn't quite understand why she made such a big deal about her first name, but the fact that she trusted him with it was huge, he knew, and he'd wondered briefly how she'd react if he pulled her out of her car and kissed her.
Since the day she'd walked into that hospital room, nothing had changed – she was still the most beautiful woman he knew.
But he'd been hoping he wouldn't get along with her that well; that his attraction to her would stay purely physical, so he had more of a reason to pretend it wasn't there.
Denial must have been the first of the 12 steps, because he was starting to believe he was addicted to her; he was starting to make excuses to spend time with her every day.
And now they were partners, he didn't have to make any excuses, because he now had a solid reason not to date her.
Of course, there was no one he'd rather be partnered with; he trusted her implicitly.
She was doing it again, biting her lip, and he wondered if she knew what she did to him.
He wanted to lower his head, to close the distance between them; her neck had always fascinated him, though he wasn't sure why, whether it was the impossibly smooth skin, or the way her hair danced over it whether she wore it up or down, or the number of times he had imagined which spots made her sigh and which made her moan.
Hopefully, he'd get the chance to find out.
But right now, he owed her an explanation. "You know, I hadn't been planning on kissing you when I called you back. I was just going to thank you. But then I remembered yesterday, when you were on the phone; for a second, I thought you were talking to a boyfriend. And I know I had no right to be upset if it was, but you … dammit, Jess, I've only got so much self-restraint and it's been crumbling ever since I met you. And I'm sorry if I crossed the line; you know you're important to me and I could never lose you. So you say the word and this conversation never happened. We'll pretend the last hour never happened."
Don held his breath, waiting for her response. They had been playing this game for too long and he could only pray that he hadn't misread her signals; that she'd been flirting with him for the same reasons; that her response earlier hadn't just been due to shock.
"I know." Jess whispered, her voice shaky. "But I don't want to."
Don released her just enough to let her turn in his arms, but she didn't try to pull away from him, leaning back just enough to meet his eyes.
"Your self-restraint is only a little bit better than mine." She murmured. "I want more than this."
Not trusting his voice, Don kissed her again, feeling her respond more quickly this time. He couldn't resist slipping his hands beneath her shirt, caressing the silky skin of her waist. He thought he'd beaten his addiction, but there was no way he could go back to 'just friends' now; not now he knew how she tasted and how she felt against him as she backed up into her kitchen counter.
It took every ounce of self-control he had to pull away, though he refused to release her, resting his forehead against hers, needing to keep the contact between them for as long as possible. "We've both got tomorrow evening off. You up for dinner?"
"Are you asking me on a date, Detective?" Jess asked, with a teasing smile, her answer clear in her eyes. "Nice place, food neither of us can afford and an awkward moment at the end?"
Don just grinned; he couldn't remember asking a woman out being this easy before … or this right. "No, I was thinking my place, I'll cook and you can pick the movie. How does that sound?"
"Sounds good." Jess kissed him again, but pulled away quickly, her expression suddenly very serious. "I'm not messing around here."
Don almost laughed at the notion that he might be. Like I'd risk losing her. He knew her well enough to know that wasn't her only reservation, however, and cupped her face, needing her to hear him. "I'm not either. I want a relationship with you. I'm sensing a 'but' coming up here."
Jess sighed. "We need to keep this out of the precinct. As soon as we're through that door, we're partners, nothing more. See if we can outwit the rumour-mill for once."
Don wasn't about to disagree. Though he'd love to walk into the precinct and announce that she was with him (hell, he'd love to walk in anywhere and announce that, just for the hell of it), his boys knew she was off-limits. Had been since the moment he set eyes on her.
It was so easy to dismiss their concerns.
Yes, he'd been caught in a bomb and nearly died, but he hadn't. And he wasn't about to fall apart.
He had actually started feigning sleep when people visited, because at least then they said what they were thinking instead of hiding behind false smiles.
So when female footsteps interrupted his dozing, he didn't bother opening his eyes, knowing that it was one of the nurses, who would check his stats and leave again, or Stella or Lindsay, both of whom would quietly scold him for scaring them, their voices shaky with tears.
The footsteps came to a halt in the doorway and he mentally crossed the nurses and Stella off his list. "You can come in, Monroe; I don't bite."
"Sorry." A soft female voice responded. "Good guess; wrong detective."
Now he opened his eyes, curiosity peaked, only to see …
Damn, she's gorgeous.
His gaze swept up her legs – who knew simple black pants could look that good? – to the badge and gun attached to her belt, to the gentle swell of her chest, almost obscured by the flowers she was carrying, and finally to her face, meeting dark eyes, filled with gentle concern unlike the fear present in everyone else's, a single curl of brown hair hanging down one cheek while the rest was pulled back to tumble over her shoulders.
He wondered if his injuries had finally killed him, because no real woman was this beautiful, but the hustle and bustle of the hospital continued behind her, so he gave her a smile, explaining the thought process that had led him to assume she was Lindsay.
"I'm Detective Angell." She told him.
"Angell, huh?" He asked, recalling his earlier thoughts, but she cut him off before he could say anything else.
How he managed to hold a normal conversation with her, he didn't know, but he didn't crack until she went to leave.
"Hey, Angell!"
Don could have kicked himself when she turned around. You can't ask her to come back, you idiot; she doesn't even know you. "Good luck with Benson. Tell him I said to let you into the field once in a while."
She didn't tell him that she knew what he'd been trying to say and he didn't say anything when she came back later.
He just smiled as she walked away, because he was right: her ass looked just as good as the rest of her.
"Fair enough." Don agreed, forcing his mind back onto her deal-breaker. "It's late. Can I borrow your couch?" Unable to resist, he kissed her again, then, simply because he could, trailed his lips over her cheek and down to her neck.
She reacted in the way he'd always imagined, sighing softly and letting her head fall back.
"My bed's more comfortable." Jess whispered, in a voice that sent a shiver through him. "To sleep, I mean."
Don nipped lightly at her skin, eliciting a gasp. "Remember what I said earlier, Jess. My self-restraint has just about snapped. Don't tempt me."
Jess laughed. "I don't do things like that on the first date, Don. Or before it. I just finished a double, remember?"
She had just finished a double.
"And you still came out to give me a lift." Don kissed her forehead. "You're amazing, you know that?"
"I try." Jess leaned back in his arms, giving him that look that made him unable to lie to her about anything, even his own wellbeing (and he'd long since been the master of that). "Speaking of, you wanna talk about that?"
She's really bringing this up now? The last thing Don wanted to do was talk about Samantha right now. "Not right now. I need to sort it through in my head first."
"Sure." Jess agreed.
Don never got a chance to feel relieved, because her next words knocked him sideways.
"I know it's not the hardest thing to accept." Jess smiled weakly. "My brother … they're not signs you forget easy."
Shit. I'm supposed to be her best friend and I hadn't picked up on that? She knows me better than I know myself and I don't know her brother's a … Don shook himself from his thoughts. "I just … She's my baby sister; I can't get my head round the fact that I can't fix this for her."
"Maybe you don't need to. It took me and the boys six months to convince Rob he had a problem. It sounds like Sam's done that all by herself."
Don bit back a moan of disappointment as Jess left his arms, but she took his hand almost immediately, intertwining her fingers with his.
"Come on." She said softly. "We both had a long day and we'll never get any sleep at this rate."
"Good point. All joking aside, you sure you don't mind me staying the night?" Don asked reluctantly.
It wouldn't be the first time they'd slept in the same bed and it certainly wasn't the first time they'd slept together (in the most platonic sense of the term), but now was different and he was relieved when she squeezed his hand and tugged him into her bedroom, releasing him only to search through her drawers. "I trust you. Do you need anything?"
"No, I'm fine." Don assured her, unable to keep the grin off his face. "I'm a guy; we can improvise."
Jess straightened up. "In that case, can I borrow your shirt? I have yet to do laundry."
"Sure." Don wasn't about to argue, pulling his shirt off and tossing to her.
Predictably, she disappeared into her bathroom to change, but he didn't argue, stripping down to his boxers and climbing into bed, watching the door.
He had to admit to himself that the few times he'd lent her his shirt hadn't just been so she could sleep comfortably.
There was something undeniably sexy about a woman in a man's shirt, Jess wearing his rose above any of his expectations every time. Maybe he was possessive, but the first time he'd seen her in it, he'd felt like punching every man who looked at her twice the next day.
This time, when she reappeared and asked him what he was looking at, he didn't think twice about admitting, "You look good in my shirt?"
Jess crawled into bed beside him, nestling against him. "Better than a Kevlar?"
Girl doesn't flinch. Don couldn't help the grin that spread over his face at the memory of that raid as he pulled her closer. "Oh, I dunno. You did look pretty damn sexy before that warehouse raid. Kevlar vest and a pump-action shotgun; image wouldn't leave my head all day."
Jess's face reddened. "You're doing this on purpose."
Don dropped a kiss on her forehead. "You started it."
"True." Jess's fingers began tracing patterns on his upper arm, before running across his chest and down towards his abdomen. He was expecting her to reach his scar and then retreat as every woman had before. "Does it hurt?"
Don tensed involuntarily as her hand rested against it. "Not anymore."
"Sorry." Jess pulled her hand away hastily. "Forgot you don't like people touching it."
"Only when they're fresh." Don corrected, although he couldn't for the life of him figure out why anyone would want to touch it. "I'm just not used to people touching it. Most women tended to ignore it or avoid it."
Jess's hand slid back down again, her fingers tracing the outline. "I'm not most women. For one thing, I saw it while it was fresh, remember, so why should I avoid it? And it's part of what makes you who you are, so why would I ignore it?"
That affected him more than it should have done and he guided her face up to kiss her softly. "That's good work, Detective."
Jess smiled and rested her head back on his chest. It didn't take her long to fall asleep, but Don lay awake, running his fingers through her hair, contemplating what he'd ever done to get this lucky and wondering when it was that he started falling for her.
He knew it was after their first meeting, because he didn't know her well enough and he'd never really believed in love at first sight. And he knew it was before they became partners, because he was already making up excuses.
Maybe it was his first day back at work, when something had possessed him to send her flowers after she closed her first case.
Maybe it was after she stood between him and the captain, digging him out of a hole.
Maybe it was the way she'd stuck around and helped him navigate his best friend's slump after Lindsay turned him down.
Maybe it was the way she'd stayed and talked him through the panic attack the bombing had ultimately caused.
If he were a betting man, he'd take the latter; he could still remember the urge he'd had to kiss her in the locker room and he knew that wasn't just a physical reaction to her presence.
As he watched her sleep, she shifted closer to him, his heart skipped a beat and Don realised that it didn't matter when it happened, because he wasn't done yet.
He was still falling for her.
And he never wanted to land.
AN: I should mention now that I'm a woman, therefore I don't do male thinking. So I may have overcompensated on some points and undercompenstated on others. If there are any guys reading this, I'd especially like your feedback, see where I am with this :)