Title: Sweet Talk and Apple Pie
Author: Kimmychu
Fandom: CSI:NY
Rating: AO
Pairing: Danny/Flack
Content Warning: Fluffiness, pro-apple pie-ness.
Spoilers: Nothing consequential, but to be safe, post Season 2.
Summary: As Mac Taylor puts it, "Everything's connected." So, just what is it that connects Danny, Flack and... apple pie?
Disclaimer: Uhm, the story belongs to me. And apple pie. Both of them.
Author's Notes: A fluffy and sweet PWP to make people feel all fuzzy. Well, not fuzzy like Danny or Flack, but you get the idea. The titles for each section of the story come from Hall & Oates songs. The song sung by a certain character is Walking on Sunshine, by Katrina and the Waves. My happy song!

***

i. "I hear the secrets that you keep …"

It happened one night while Danny was nestled under the soft blanket and on Flack's chest, face buried in Flack's long neck.

" … hockey schticks …"

Danny's eyes fluttered open.

"Hnn?"

The sleepy CSI lifted his head. For a second there, he thought he heard somebody say something. He turned his head to look with bleary eyes at the clock on the bedside table. Danny growled low in his throat. If there was something he hated more than being awakened at seven in the morning … it was being awakened at four in the morning.

"Don?" Danny got to his elbows and glanced down at Flack's slack and serene face. The guy was fast asleep on his back, mouth partially open and just a tiny trace of saliva at one corner of his lips.

Danny hesitantly poked the homicide detective on the chest.

And literally jumped where he lay when Flack suddenly jerked and exclaimed loudly, "TRIP YA!"

Startled, Danny scrambled to one side of the bed, staring at his lover with wide eyes. Flack squirmed around under the blanket, limbs akimbo, mumbling under his breath. Then, he was still.

Danny made a mystified face. What the hell?

" … not gonna let ya score … besh damn goalie …"

Flack let out a rumbling snore.

Huh. Flack's eyes were still closed. Danny poked the other man on the chest a second time. All Flack did in response was to snore some more, snuffling noisily.

Danny bit his lower lip, but the amused cackle escaped anyway.

Oh, man. Flack was talking in his sleep.

The now wide awake CSI slinked back to his lover's side, grinning widely like a cat. He pulled the blanket back up over his shoulders and lay on his side, gazing at the sleeping man with a fond smile.

" … stupid mullet …" Flack murmured something incoherent, then added, " … mine's sh'better."

Danny smothered his guffaw. Oh, man, this was too good.

When he was pretty sure Flack wasn't going to throw another dream-induced fit, Danny inched his way back onto Flack's chest, leaning his head on Flack's shoulder and the pillow so he could nuzzle Flack's cheek. He smiled softly at Flack's non-sequitur, " … taffy cakes."

Flack. Sleeptalking. Geez, as if he needed another reason to be in love with the guy.

"If only ya could hear me … ask ya all kindsa stuff," Danny whispered into Flack's ear. A cheeky and drowsy smile curved up his lips. "Like what ya think a' Mac."

It was quiet in Flack's bedroom, apart from Flack's faint and intermittent snores, and the distant city noises beyond the room's closed windows. It was also nice and warm under the blanket, and Flack was the perfect personal heater to drive away the rest of the winter cold. Soon enough, the CSI's eyelids began to droop heavily. His breathing evened out.

" … schtick up ass Marine … nice hands … "

Danny's eyes shot wide open.

Okay. The guy had to be playing a prank on him.

Danny twisted his neck and head upwards to gape at Flack. Either Flack was getting real good at faking at being asleep, or …

"Don … what do ya think of Mac?"

Flack's eyes stayed closed. The slumbering homicide detective wriggled a little. Then he repeated, " … schtick up ass Marine …"

Danny waited.

Flack released a weird snore that sounded a lot like an elephant whining. " … nice hands …"

Danny had to clap a hand over his mouth hard. It was such a struggle to not burst out laughing he ended up with tears brimming in his blue eyes.

Ho. Ly. Cow. Flack wasn't just talking. He was actually answering whatever Danny asked him. Without any reservations!

The shorter man gave up on sleeping entirely and rolled onto his flat stomach and forearms to get into a more comfortable position for … interrogation.

Danny made a mental note about Flack's compliment on Mac's hands, then whispered, "Don … what do ya think 'bout Stella?"

For a minute, Flack stayed quiescent and unmoving.

" … boobies."

Danny hurriedly hid his face in his pillow to stifle his uncontrollable laughter. He knew it. He knew he wasn't just imagining Flack ogling Stella's very appealing bosoms. Not that he was mad at the guy for it, since he was quite guilty of it himself.

" … curls a' doom …"

Danny's giggles were loud even with the pillow in face. It took a while for him to get himself under control. Ohh, he had find out as much as he could while he still had this fantastic opportunity.

"How 'bout Hawkes? Whaddaya think of the Doc?"

Silence. A snort. Some squirming.

" … smart Alec …" Flack sniffled. " … nice pecs …"

The shorter detective pouted. No, he was not going to get jealous about Flack thinking that. Nuh uh.

" … nice abs …." The homicide detective wriggled his shoulders and legs. Snuffled.

Danny's pout intensified. Was Flack smiling?

Flack settled down once more. Okay. The guy was smiling.

Suddenly, Danny didn't feel so amused anymore.

"Don … do ya … have a crush on Hawkes?"

In his deep slumber, Flack frowned. He made a snarling noise, then the muscles in his handsome visage visibly relaxed. He shifted his head on the pillow, a small, tender smile appearing on his lips. " … kinka-poodle."

Danny huffed out a hushed chuckle. He should never have told Flack about that stupid kinkajou animal, damnit. His current nickname always made him picture himself dressed in a white poodle suit, supplemented with an automatic wagging ball of white puff for a tail. Oh, wait. That was Flack's fantasy in the first place.

" … sweet bubblebutt …" Flack was burbling happily in his sleep now, the smile still there. Whatever he was seeing in his head, it was a good dream. " … get ya chocolate … Belgium ones ya like …"

Danny smiled, eyes crinkled. He just had to fall in love with a gorgeous, romantic dork of a cop, didn't he?

He continued with his unusual inquiry.

"Montana."

No reaction, apart from a muted snore.

The CSI waited for half a minute, then said firmly, "Lindsay."

The sleeping man mumbled something under his breath.

"Lindsay, what 'bout Lindsay?"

Flack snored for a few minutes, then kicked his legs like he was running, then went motionless.

" … wheat girl."

Danny snorted in amusement. Wheat girl. That figures. Obviously, Flack remembered his anecdote about Lindsay comparing the beauty of the wheat fields of her home state, Montana, to New York city's skyline.

After Danny realized Flack had nothing more to remark about the team's newest member, he scratched at the trimmed goatee on his chin, and asked the one million dollar question.

"How 'bout me, Don? How do ya feel 'bout me?"

Nothing.

Danny's brow puckered.

"How do ya feel 'bout Danny?"

Flack snored peacefully for a few minutes. Danny's frown deepened more the longer Flack said nothing. Hey, why did everyone else get a commentary and he didn't? He was the guy's best friend and lover, for crying out loud!

Danny fought the urge to kick Flack in the shins. Or higher up.

"How do ya feel 'bout Danny!"

The taller man let out a low, droning sound. His tongue flitted out between his parted lips.

" … apple pie …"

Danny's sleep-deprived brain labored to work out the logic of that for a minute or two. Then it occurred to him that it didn't make sense anyhow.

"Danny! Not food, Danny!" He jabbed the homicide detective in the chest with a forefinger.

Flack wriggled his feet, tossed his head once. Licked his lips. Those big, blue eyes remained closed all the way.

" … apple pie."

The CSI figuratively threw up his hands and rolled back onto his side, facing away from the other man. He knew he was being irrational, but it seriously exasperated him that, even in slumber, he couldn't find out what Flack really felt about him.

And … apple pie? What the heck did apple pie have to do with him?

Danny yanked a whole lot more of the blanket and swathed himself in it, knowing well that Flack was going to get cold real soon. He sulked, lower lip stuck out. Flack's apple pie could warm him up just fine.

There was a rustling noise.

"Hnnn …"

Two strong arms squirmed past the folds of cloth and wrapped themselves around his torso. The sleeping homicide detective had plastered himself against his back.

" … apple pie …"

Flack began snoring stridently into his ear.

Danny closed his eyes and groaned inwardly.

Nope, no more sleeping for Detective 'Apple Pie' Messer, that was for sure.

ii. "When something is wrong with my babe …"

Something was up with Danny. Flack wasn't sure what it was, but he was sure something was going on that he ought to know about.

The tall, blue-eyed man sipped the last of his coffee while he leaned back against the kitchen counter, watching Danny washing their dishes and used utensils in the sink.

"Everythin' okay?"

Danny stopped in mid-action of rinsing a plate, looking at Flack with imperturbable eyes. "Yeah … why do ya ask?"

Flack paused for a second, studying Danny's attractive face. That was strange. Both of them crashed early for the night, but Danny looked like he didn't sleep at all, if the CSI's heavy-lidded eyes and giant yawn out of the blue was any sign of that.

"Dunno. You're kinda quiet this mornin'." The homicide detective went to the sink and left his empty mug in there. He ran a hand down the back of Danny's head and neck. "Didn't sleep good?"

Danny blinked away the moisture in his eyes caused by his yawn. "Nah. Just woke up way too early."

Flack made a concurring face. He didn't find fault with the guy's reason, as Danny was really not a morning person. He had to learn it the hard way months ago, after their first night together. Danny's legs might look like chicken legs, but boy, did they kick good or what. Flack was damn sure he had an imprint of the guy's foot on his left ass cheek for a month.

"Did you sleep good?" Danny dried the wet and clean plate with a cloth.

"Yeah." Flack grinned broadly. "Always sleep good when I'm with ya." He was jubilant to see his lover smile at that.

"So … no dreams?" Danny asked nonchalantly.

"Well, if I had any … I don't remember them." Flack angled his head, gazing at Danny with sharp eyes. "What, did I have a weird dream or somethin' that made ya wake up?"

The CSI, dressed in a red, long-sleeved shirt and khakis, sniffed once and flicked the tip of his nose with a thumb. Scratched at his neck. "Huh? No, nothin' like that. Just wonderin', that's all."

Flack's eyes narrowed, a tiny smirk on face. Oh hoooh. Danny didn't look at him when he said that. There was something that definitely happened last night. His smirk transformed into a roguish grin.

"What … were ya all hot and bothered 'cos I was reenacting a wet dream on ya?" Flack stepped behind Danny and unashamedly rubbed his lower body against the other man's ample bottom.

The homicide detective sniggered to himself at the flush that reddened Danny's visage. He loved how he was the only person who could make the bespectacled man blush with a single look or action.

Danny elbowed him in the tummy and sent a sideways mock glare his way. "Think real highly of yerself, don'tcha?" A moment later, the shorter man lost the battle with his facial muscles and grinned at Flack, whose return grin was equally huge.

Danny turned around so they faced each other. "Go on, geddoutta here," he said, giving Flack an affectionate peck on the lips. "You're already late."

Flack wrapped his hands around Danny's lower jaw and neck and kept his lover's face in place, pushing his tongue into Danny's mouth. The CSI's lips were dry but pliant. He tasted jasmine tea, mint and hints of the scrambled eggs and toast they had for breakfast.

It was Danny's soft moan that made him break the kiss. Flack glanced at his watch and realized that he really was going to be late if he didn't head out now.

The taller man huffed. "I hate paperwork."

Danny smirked. "You're not the only one."

Flack pinched the other man's prominent nose, and said, "You got the late shift today?"

"Yeah." The disappointment in Danny's voice was apparent.

Flack chuckled, then gave Danny one last kiss on the lips. "Hey, I'll be seein' ya at the labs later, 'kay? Maybe we can meet up and grab lunch together or somethin'. How 'bout that?"

"Yeah, okay."

The mauve-suited homicide detective picked up his car keys from the coffee table and headed for the apartment front door. He opened it, twisted his head back to look at Danny with a smug expression.

"And don't think you've gotten off, Messer. I'm gonna find out what really happened last night, 'cos sooner or later, you're gonna tell me." Flack wagged a finger. He laughed at Danny sticking his tongue out at him, and walked out the apartment, closing the door behind him.

He wondered what Danny would say, if he told the CSI one day that he fantasized about that nubile organ more than any other part of Danny's body.

iii. "Because I'm lost inside of you …"

Flack was talking in his sleep again.

" … hold the club …"

Danny was instantly awake, lying on his side and up on one elbow. He checked to see if Flack was actually asleep or not, staring hard at the man's closed eyes and open mouth. Yep. The guy was totally out for the count.

Well, as out as a guy who was sleeptalking anyway.

" … aim fer the hole …"

Danny made a face. First, hockey, and now … golf?

" … grass is growin' … and the grass is growin' …"

The CSI's eyebrows went up. He tried very hard to imagine Flack being a commentator for a golf game, and all he could see in his head was Flack yelling, "GOOOOOAAAAAAAL!" when the golf ball dropped into the hole. And scaring the daylights out of Tiger Woods.

Flack mumbled something unintelligible under his breath. Snored for a few minutes.

Danny figured it was a good time as any to see whether his lover was going to reply to his questions like he did the last time.

"Don?"

Flack snuffled once.

"Whaddaya think a' Mac?"

No sounds came out from Flack's mouth apart from low snores. Danny waited patiently for about two minutes.

" … good cop … good man …"

Danny blinked. Hey. Flack's answer was different tonight.

" … still schtick up ass …"

Danny bit his lower lip. Well, at least the guy was still being honest.

He went straight for the kill.

"Don, what 'bout me? How do ya feel 'bout Danny?"

Flack, flat on his back with his face turned towards Danny, simply snored, eyes closed. There was a short trail of dribble going down the side of his mouth that was drying up in the cold air.

Danny pouted.

One minute passed.

And another.

And another.

The fourth minute, Danny let out an annoyed sound and glared at a completely oblivious Flack.

"C'mon. What 'bout Danny?"

Flack made an odd, high-pitched noise through his nose. Then he murmured, " … apple pie …"

Danny let his head drop heavily into the pillow beneath it, face obscured in the red plumpness.

This was not fair.

He raised his head, lips pursed in determination. He was going to get a different answer out of Flack, even if he had to do it with … dirty means.

Danny slithered up close to Flack's lanky body, rubbing himself sinuously against it. He glided his hands all over Flack's chest and abdomen, relishing the smoothness and velvety body hair. Nuzzling his face against the slumbering man's, he whispered in a husky, seductive tone, "How do ya feel 'bout me, Don? Tell me, babe."

Danny nibbled on one of Flack's earlobes, and waited with bated breath. His hand traveled down to the homicide detective's groin.

Flack squirmed, his long-limbed body undulating under the CSI's administrations. He released a subdued moan, then relaxed, becoming motionless.

Another minute passed.

Flack's lips moved. Danny leaned closer in anticipation.

" … apple pie."

Something snapped with a crackle of glass in Danny's mind. He spun away from the sleeping man, shoving his face into his pillow and howling his frustration.

That did it. He officially hated apple pie.

iv. "I've been waiting, waiting, waiting …"

"You're not going to believe who's here!"

Danny didn't bother looking up from his paper pad, carrying on with his note jotting. Why, yes, people went to work to work, his brain said. Nope, no time to gossip or make small talk or chat about who was, as Stella put it, unbelievably here at CSI headquarters.

And anyhow, he was supposed to be all upset and moody thanks to Flack and his apple pie obsession.

The bespectacled detective kept his eyes on the paper and words. However, his ears were wholly attuned to the ensuing conversation between Stella, who just entered the lab, and Hawkes, who sat nearby at another table in front of a computer. Hey, he could multitask. Didn't hurt to be up to date with current local events.

"They look so alike!"

"Hey, Stella." Hawkes stopped typing on the keyboard. "Who are you referring to?"

"Her!"

"Her?"

"Yeah." Danny didn't even have to look at Stella to know she was beaming. "Flack got his blue eyes from her, without a doubt."

Danny's pen screeched to a halt on the white, lined paper.

"You mean … Flack's mother is here?"

Stella chuckled. "Yeah!"

Danny finally raised his head and looked in the direction of the other two CSIs.

"Flack's mom is here?"

Both Stella and Hawkes glanced at him. Hawkes was dressed in a cream-colored turtleneck sweater and jeans, while Stella had on a low-cut, light purple top and fitting black trousers. Danny's eyes almost instinctively strayed downwards to Stella's exposed cleavage. Danny immediately thought of Flack's very observant comment in regards to a certain part of the Greek woman's anatomy. Boobies was right.

Stella motioned with her thumb towards the open lab door.

"Mac's chatting with her right now in the hallway." Her green eyes were crinkled by her smile. "She's really beautiful."

Hawkes got up and walked with Stella to the door, a curious expression on his friendly mien. "I wonder why she's here."

His note writing promptly forgotten, Danny stood up as well and joined his friends at the lab doorway. Hawkes sure wasn't the only one who was interested to know. He stood between Stella and the former ME, gawking in unison at the captivating brunette woman who was Mrs. Flack. It was quite evident even Mac was enthralled with Mrs. Flack's beauty, from the way he was staring at her with childlike eyes and a minute smile playing at his lips. And Stella hadn't been kidding about her being beautiful either.

Mrs. Flack was attired in a simple but elegant short-sleeved, ivory-colored dress and high heels of the same shade. Her dark, wavy hair was tied into a high ponytail that cascaded down to her upper back. Danny couldn't tell what her face looked like because she was standing with her back partially facing them. However, he could see that she had figure most women half her age or less would die for. Danny was having a hard time estimating her age. In her hands, she was holding a square plastic container.

Some unknown force compelled Danny to saunter forward, heading for Mrs. Flack and his boss.

" … I was just on my way down to see his father, so I thought I could hand it over to Donny. He said he was probably going to be here if he wasn't at his precinct." Mrs. Flack tittered faintly and gracefully shrugged. "I should have known better than to expect him to be behind a desk or in one place for long. So much like his father."

Danny was pleasantly stunned at Mac's lively chuckle. Who would have thought all it took to make Mac smile and laugh was a supremely fine-looking, mature lady? Too bad for his boss, Mrs. Flack was well and truly spoken for, if Detective Flack, Sr. had anything to say about it.

Mac detected him drawing near, and shifted his body to notify Mrs. Flack of Danny's approach.

"I believe this is the Danny your son talks to you so often about," Mac said, hazel eyes twinkling. He gesticulated with his hand at Danny, adding, "Donna, this is Detective Danny Messer, one of my top CSIs. Danny, this is Donna Flack, Don's mother."

Danny was rendered speechless, both by Mac's unexpected compliment and Mrs. Flack's face. She wasn't beautiful. She was stunning. Thin, sculpted eyebrows framed large, luminous blue eyes that had long, dark eyelashes. She had a nose that was conspicuous for a woman, although, combined with the full, heart-shaped lips below, was perfect. Danny now knew for sure from whom Flack had inherited his eyes, as well as his coloring. Mrs. Flack's face was lined with age, and there were crow's feet at the corner of her eyes. However, they merely served to bring a distinct maturity to her natural loveliness that no young woman could possibly have.

"Hello, Danny, it's a pleasure to meet you," Mrs. Flack said in a mellow and melodious voice, a delighted smile brightening her entire face.

Somehow, Danny's brain still functioned enough to spur him into lifting up his hand to grasp Mrs. Flack's.

"Hi," he murmured slightly, holding her hand in his. When he realized he was just standing there like a dumbass and perhaps smiling like one too, he jerked slightly and hastily pumped their hands up and down, clearing his throat.

"Hey, how ya doin'?" Gosh, his face was so warm there was probably steam coming off him.

Mac was covering his mouth with a hand, attempting to mask his laugh with coughing. Danny's eyes narrowed at his boss, who moved his hand away from his lips and put on a neutral expression. Ohh, Danny was going to remember that.

"I'm doing well, thank you," Mrs. Flack said, scrutinizing him with benevolent eyes. "And you?"

Danny shrugged his shoulders. "I'm doin' good, a vacation would be nice …" - he peered at Mac from the corner of his eyes - "But I'm doin' good."

Donna chortled. "Donny told me so much about you." Huh, guess the only other two people who got to call Flack that name were his parents. Aside from him. "He speaks very highly of you … you were the detective who solved that restaurant multiple homicide case nearly two years ago, weren't you?"

The bespectacled CSI was surprised yet again. He never imagined Flack would discuss his cases with his mom, much less discuss about Danny and his achievements. It made him feel all sunny inside.

"Yes, ma'am. I had lots of help from a fellow detective, Detective Burn." Uttering Aiden's name created a pang in his heart. It'd been nearly a year since she left. Nevertheless, he still missed her. "Wouldn't have been able to do it without her."

Mrs. Flack gazed at him silently with those humongous, blue eyes, then said sagely, "I can see why my son considers you such an important person in his life."

Danny smiled and ducked his head. He hoped his face wasn't as red as he thought it was.

"Donny is a single child," Mrs. Flack said, a seemingly melancholic smile on her lips. "He didn't have any siblings to play with during his childhood, so it always made me happy that he had so many friends then." She sighed. "I know his work keeps him occupied most of the time these days, but that's a detective's life, I suppose. His father is already so close to retirement, and he still works as if he was only beginning his career." She rolled her eyes, then chuckled. This time, her smile was happier. "I'm glad to see Donny still has friends around whom he can be himself and trust."

Now, Danny understood why Flack, though he rarely discussed his family, always spoke of his mother with immense love when he did. Heck, he'd only met her minutes ago, and he already loved her.

There was a sudden beeping sound coming from the vicinity of Mac's coat pocket. It was his mobile phone.

Mac smiled apologetically at Donna, who quickly said, "It's alright, I'll give it to Danny here instead. It was a pleasure meeting you, Detective Taylor."

"The pleasure was all mine. Please excuse me." Mac flipped open his phone, answered it and walked away to his office, leaving Danny alone with Mrs. Flack.

Danny looked at the plastic container she clutched with one hand. "Is that what you wanna pass to Fla- Don?"

"Oh, this! Yes, that's right." She handed it to him with both hands. "I baked it this morning for him and his father. They absolutely love apple pie."

Danny took the heavy container from her, staring at her with eyes wide as saucers. Did she just say what he thought she did?

"Donny called me up a few days ago. He had a sudden craving for it." Mrs. Flack chuckled, then stepped closer to speak in a lowered voice. She didn't have any perfume on, and she still smelled nice. "I hope Donny doesn't mind me telling you this, but since you're his close friend, I don't think he would."

Danny perked up.

"You see, when Donny was a little child, he used to have bad dreams. Nightmares, monsters under the bed, you know." She waved her hands. "No matter what his father or I did, it took ages to calm him down. Storybook reading didn't work, leaving the light on didn't work, ice cream didn't work."

The corner of Danny's lips twitched. He was literally being given a goldmine here. And it was kinda sweet learning about Flack's childhood from the woman who gave birth to him.

"But! One night, after Donny had a nightmare, I discovered the one thing that instantly made him happy all over again."

Mrs. Flack flashed a brilliant smile. "Apple pie."

A grin began to grow across Danny's face. Was the floor still under his feet?

"Apple pie was the one thing that soothed him and kept the boogie monsters away." She laughed, a soothing sound in itself. "Whenever he had it … all was right with his world."

Danny swore he was floating in the air on Cloud Nine somewhere.

Donna mistook his gigantic grin for one of amusement, and patted him on the arm. "I know it's very amusing." She winked. "I'm sure you have something that keeps your boogie men away too."

The image of identical blue eyes filled with passion and staring lovingly at him popped up in his mind. Danny smiled warmly, showing pearly teeth. "That I do."

Mrs. Flack smiled back, then glanced at her watch. "Oh dear, I should get going. The traffic on the way to Donald's precinct is always abysmal at this time of the day."

"Don't worry, I'll make sure Don gets his apple pie."

"Thank you so much." She patted one of his hands. "It was wonderful to finally meet you, Danny."

"It was great to meet ya too, ma'am."

Danny stood there in the middle of the hallway with the apple pie in his hands long after Flack's mother had left. If he didn't have an idiotic grin on his face before, he was pretty damn sure he had one now.

He got it, at last.

"Whenever he had it, all was right with his world."

Apple pie.

He was Flack's apple pie.

Which meant … whenever he was there with Flack and for Flack, all was right with the guy's world. And he was the one thing that made it so. That was how much Danny meant to Flack.

Danny started to sing under his breath as he turned around and headed for the break room where the fridge was. He didn't even really know what the name of the song was, except that it was exceptionally fitting for how he felt at this point in time.

"Walkin' on sunshine … walkin' on sunshine …"

His body began to unconsciously sway to the song, a skip putting a spring in his step.

"I feel alive, I feelthe love, I feel the love that's really real …"

His voice was getting louder, and he didn't even care that people were staring at him now.

"I feel alive, I feelthe love, I feel the love that's really reaaal …"

He thought of how Flack was going to react when he got his apple pie. He grinned wide as the Cheshire cat, laughing aloud when it dawned on him that apple pie now had a double entendre to it.

Ohhh yeah, Flack was so going to get his fill of apple pie.

"C'mon, sunshine, babe, wooohhh!" He whirled around once, beaming at a gaping Stella and Hawkes at the lab doorway as he passed them.

"Wow, somebody's had a dose of happy!" Stella said with a laugh.

Danny grinned back at her. "Yeah, apple pie makes the world happy!"

He heard Stella and Hawkes laugh gleefully at his reply, and he resumed his merry way, singing once more.

"Ohhh yeah, I'm on sunshine, babe, woooOHHH!"

He leapt into the air, knocking his heels together. Danny unintentionally did it right in front of Mac's office, in full view of the man himself. He grinned at Mac, who had an astonished but buoyant smile on his face. He didn't care at all that he was acting like an utter loon.

He was happy.

"I'm walkin' on suuunshiiiine, woooOOHH! I'm walkin' on suuunshiiiiiiine, woooOOHH! I'm walkin' on suuuunshiiiine, woooohhhohhhOOHHH!"

He bumped into Lindsay on the way, and he made her laugh gaily as he linked arms with her and twirled them around once.

"And don't it feel GOOD!"

That did it. Danny Messer officially loved apple pie.

v. "Yeah, there's something about you …"

Flack sucked the last of the apple sauce off his fingers, eyes shut in delight. Mmmm, mom's homemade apple pie was the greatest in the universe. There was nothing that could equal to the deliciousness of it.

Well. Maybe the guy who sat next to him at the kitchen table could.

He heard Danny cackle with amusement, and he opened his eyes and pouted.

"Whaaaaaaat?"

Danny merely laughed some more.

"Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?"

"Look at yer face! Ya look like you're high on drugs or somethin'." Danny sat on a matching wooden, armless chair, attired in black track pants and a long-sleeved sweater. During any other season than winter, the bespectacled hardly wore anything other than tank tops. Yet another reason Flack didn't like winter. He didn't get to eyeball his lover's muscular body unless they were naked in bed under the heated covers.

"I like apple pie." Flack stuck an apple filling-covered tongue at the shorter man, who simply did the same back.

Danny leaned his chin on the upturned palm of his hand, slouching forward on the table. Nibbling on his lower lip and watching Flack licking his own lips, he asked, "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why apple pie?"

Flack scooped out another slice of the pastry from its plastic container, taking an enormous bite out of it. "Well," he replied with a full, chewing mouth, "I've liked it since I was a kid." He swallowed and lick his lips again. "I -" He suddenly paused, looking pensive. "Nah. You're gonna think it's stupid."

Danny nudged him in the shoulder, an inquisitive and impish smile on his mien. "C'mooon, just tell me."

The homicide detective munched on more apple pie, then said with a shrug, "Ah, what the hell." He placed what was left of the slice on the plate in front of him. "When I was a kid, I used ta have bad dreams. Nightmares, monsters under the bed, ya know." He rolled his eyes and flailed his hands about.

Danny had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from grinning. Geez, the guy even waved his hands around like his mom. It was cute.

"So, one night, I remember …" Flack licked at a drop of apple sauce on his upper lip. "I got a bad nightmare, and I remember there was a thunderstorm too, which didn't make things better. And there wasn't any ice cream in the fridge, but that never helped anyway." Flack glanced away, scratching at his chest. "So, it's the middle of the night, and Ma and I are in the kitchen, and she looks 'round for somethin' else for me … and all she finds is leftover apple pie from some party she and Pop went to."

Flack peered at Danny from the corner of his eyes. Huh, he totally assumed the guy was going to laugh his head off about it. Instead, he just looked like he was the happiest guy in the freaking galaxy. Well, Flack wasn't going to complain about that. Danny didn't smile much, and he was gorgeous when he did.

"So, yeah, she takes it out and heats it up, and she gives me a slice, and I'm thinkin, 'Nah, there's no way this was gonna beat ice cream or chocolate.'" Flack sits up and literally acts out the motion of cutting at the apple pie slice before him with an imaginary knife and fork. "I'm there pickin' at the apple pie like I was scared a' it too, and Ma's sittin' there with a smile on her face watchin' me, so I just dug in and chucked a whole lot of it into my mouth."

The taller detective smiled and ran his tongue all over his lower lip. "Mmmm, it was the yummiest thing I ever tasted."

Danny finally laughed aloud, blue eyes crinkled by his open grin.

Flack gesticulated with his hands once more. "So … I guess, ever since then, apple pie was pretty much the best thing that made me feel better whenever I had bad dreams or just felt plain bad." He shrugged. "Then I grew up, but I never stopped lovin' apple pie anyway. And Ma sure makes the best damn apple pie."

He waited for Danny to say something in response.

And sucked in a harsh breath at Danny reaching for his hand and sucking vicariously on the fingers he'd only sucked on minutes ago. He stopped breathing, staring at the pink tongue flitting between Danny's lips and his damp fingers. Damn, he should have talked about apple pie ages ago if it made his lover horny like this.

The shorter man swiped his tongue up Flack's palm, suckled on his thumb then let the appendage pop out of his mouth.

"Don."

"Huuhn?" Flack tried to utter more articulate words. That was somewhat of a problem when both his brain and body had virtually turned to blissful goo under Danny's … expertise.

Danny snickered. "I gotta confession ta make."

Flack's thick eyebrows shot up. Uh oh. Danny and confession never went well together.

"What? Did ya shrink all my underwear?"

The CSI still clasped his hand, and Flack got a nip to his fingers for his naughty comment.

The taller man smirked. "You're finally gonna tell me, aren't ya?"

Danny rolled his eyes, and then smirked back. "Yeeaaah, I'm gonna tell ya, okay?"

Flack leaned back in his seat, letting Danny hold onto his hand. He waited patiently with a self-satisfied expression on his handsome visage. "Good. Least I'll know why you've been extra moody lately."

A few minutes of comfortable silence and Danny fiddling with his fingers before the shorter detective spoke up.

"Ya talk in yer sleep."

Flack made an odd face. "Huh?"

"Ya know, sleeptalkin'!" Danny closed his eyes and went, "Blahblahblah." Those cerulean eyes opened. "Ya know, talkin' in yer sleep."

Flack stared at Danny blankly. Sleeptalking? He talked in his sleep?

"Cooool." The homicide detective grinned widely. "What did I say?"

Danny shrugged his shoulders. "Ya talked 'bout hockey. And golf."

"Hockey … huh, I used to play hockey when I was younger." Flack displayed a nostalgic smile. "Man, I loved the game, and Jim Craig was one a' my teenage heroes." He made another funny face. "But golf? What the hell?"

Danny cackled. "Yeah. And ya had a mullet haircut you were real proud of."

"What the … how did ya kno- ah, crap."

The smaller man laughed louder at Flack's resigned expression. "And - and …" - he inhaled deeply in mid-laugh - "I think you've got some hidden yearnin' to be a golf commentator, man."

Flack made a disgusted face. "I hate golf. Can't stand it 'cos it's so boring. Gimme ice hockey and baseball anytime!" The homicide detective then gazed at Danny with shrewd eyes. "There's gotta be more than that ta make yer mood swings more extreme than usual. C'mon, tell me the rest."

Danny squirmed in his seat.

"Ohhh." Flack smirked. "I know what ya did. Ya asked me stuff, didn't ya? Hopin' I'd give ya answers."

The shorter man appeared shamefaced. Nevertheless, he was grinning too.

Flack sniggered. He rubbed his thumb along Danny's lower jaw. "Lemme guess. Ya figured you'd find out what I thought of the others, hmmm?"

"Yeah, well …"

"So." Flack puckered his lips. "What did I say then?"

Danny cleared his throat. "Ya said … Mac was a Marine with a stick up his ass."

Flack laughed boisterously at that. "Yeah, that sounds 'bout right."

"Ya said he had nice hands too. And that he was good man and a good cop."

"Yeah. That sounds 'bout right too. What with him wearin' all those suits and coats all the time, they're 'bout the only parts a' him ya can see. Anyway … I got eye candy to stare at all I want. Why bother 'bout the rest, when I got the best?" Flack winked.

Danny coughed a second time, face turning red. He'd never verbally admit it, but it always gave him a thrill whenever Flack complimented him, directly or indirectly.

"When I asked ya 'bout Stella, ya said … boobies. And …" - he tried hard not to smile - "Curls of doom. You even called Lindsay a, what was it … wheat girl."

Flack cackled.

"And ya called Hawkes a smart Alec." Danny pouted. "And ya think he's got nice pecs and abs."

"Ooo, somebody sounds jealous." The homicide detective, wearing a black t-shirt and long, dark orange flannel trousers, tapped his fingers on the kitchen table, studying his friend's face. The CSI really was affected by the notion he might find the Doc attractive.

"Well, my ass wins anytime." Danny hmphed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Danny, ya don't think I actually have the hots for Hawkes now, do ya?"

Flack sighed heavily at Danny's silence. Yeah, now this was familiar country. Didn't think they had to pay it a visit again so soon. They'd been together for over a year, ever since that case where that former pageant queen's friend was murdered in her apartment. How long was it going to take before he got it through Danny's thick skull that he wasn't going to up and leave the guy just like that?

Flack could barely contemplate leaving Danny at all.

"Answer me this one question, 'kay?" He gazed straight into Danny's similarly blue eyes. "Tell me, why am I here with ya, Danny? Why am I with ya, hahn?"

The smaller man said nothing, merely staring at him with large, poignant eyes.

"What, ya think - ya think I just come over 'cos I got nothin' better to do? 'Cos I'm - I'm usin' ya or somethin'? Ya think …" Flack threw up his hands. "Ya think I just want ya for sex and that's it? Huh, do ya?"

Danny stared at him for a few more seconds, then shook his head slowly, never breaking eye contact.

"Well, if that's what you were thinkin', you're wrong." The taller detective was beginning to get mad. And here he thought Danny trusted him.

"I know." Danny smiled, eyes glistening under the kitchen ceiling light. "Apple pie."

Flack blinked twice. Okay, what was that supposed to mean? He rewound their current conversation a minute or two back in time.

His blue eyes widened in understanding. Oh.

"I called ya apple pie in my sleep?"

The CSI had bowed his head. "That's what ya said. When I asked ya while you were sleeptalkin', how ya felt 'bout me," Danny said in a small voice. "Apple pie." He let out a faltering chuckle. "Drove me nuts for a while wonderin' what the heck it was 'bout … then yer mom came to the labs, and she told me …"

Danny lifted his head back up and glanced almost shyly at Flack. "Ya know, 'bout yer love for apple pie. And how it never failed to make ya happy."

Ouch. Flack's face was hurting from the massive grin splitting it.

"So that's why you were all Sound of Music this evenin'." The taller man received a punch to his arm. It was totally worth it to see Danny blush deep red though.

"Hey! I sing pretty good, ya know!" Danny stuck his lower lip out. "Ya can forget me ever writin' a song 'bout ya."

"Considerin' the stuff I've heard ya sing, maybe that's a good thin-"

Whatever Flack was going to say next was drowned out by his lover's mouth devouring his in an open-mouthed kiss. He was thankful he got tough, high-quality chairs, because he hoped the one he sat on wasn't going to break under the additional weight of a full-grown, writhing CSI on his lap.

"I oughta -" - Danny sucked on his lower lip - "Beat yer ass -" - their tongues wrestled - "For that." They kissed fervently for a couple more minutes, then Danny tilted back slightly, corkscrewing his hips.

A low groan leaked through Flack's gritted teeth. He began to harden. Oh yeah, Danny's ass really did win everytime.

They gazed into each other's eyes as Danny moved his hands down to the hem of his sweater. He yanked it over his head, exposing his supple torso.

His evidently hairless torso.

Flack's blue eyes grew impossibly wide. He ran his hands all over the smooth skin.

"What the f- where's all that wonderful fuzz!"

Danny burst out laughing at Flack's dramatic reaction. He never realized Flack liked his natural body hair that much. He nipped Flack on the tip of his nose.

"Figured you'd wanna eat off a more smoother dish, if ya know what I mean."

Flack made a high-pitched, happy sound. He was undeniably rock hard now.

Danny gracefully got off Flack's lap and tossed his sweater onto his vacated chair. He promenaded towards the bedroom door, stripping off his track pants on the way. He didn't have any underwear on.

Nearly at the door, Danny glanced back with a smoldering, come-hither look, teeth showing through a wicked grin. He wriggled his finest asset from side to side.

"Come and get yer apple pie."

Flack most likely broke the world record for short distance sprinting that night.

As well as weight lifting.

vi. "For I can't help falling in love with you …"

Danny cried out at a particularly fierce thrust, his head thrown back, sitting right on top of Flack's lap, straddling the man's thighs and hips. This position made him feel the burn of the penetration acutely and deep inside.

And he loved every inch of it.

He felt Flack slather what was left of the apple filling and sauce across his chest with one hand, the other gripping his hip hard. Flack immediately licked and sucked the apple sauce away from his skin, swirling his tongue over and around his nipples. Danny whimpered audibly.

"This …" Flack ran his tongue all the way up from Danny's chest to his chin in one go, both hands holding the CSI's hips once more. "This is what I call tasty apple pie."

Danny started to laugh, and ended up moaning non stop when Flack resumed lifting him up and down in a steady rhythm, going up until only the tip was still inside him, then slamming him back down to the hilt. Intense pleasure wracked his whole body every time his prostate gland was stroked. And fuck, Flack was strong.

He whimpered again and buried his face in Flack's sweaty neck. His panting was becoming synchronized with Flack's. He could feel the onrushing wave looming over him. So close …

"Don … I'm gonna come …"

Flack wrapped a hand around Danny's stiff erection, pumping his hand in swift motions. "Yeah … come on …" The flushed homicide detective let out a shaky snicker. "Ya know - ya know what goes great with apple pie?"

Danny couldn't form a reply. It was taking all his energy simply to hang onto Flack's broad shoulders and keep his mind from blowing apart from all the overwhelming sensations inside and out.

Flack's hand moved quicker. "Cream."

At the word, Danny's orgasm hit him intensely. His entire body convulsed violently, back arched, a loud yell ripping from his throat. White stars burst behind his eyelids, and vaguely, he heard Flack crying out and sinking his teeth into his neck. Flack was coming at the same time, and knowing that made his spurting cock twitch hard in Flack's grip.

In the aftermath, Danny could no longer hold himself upright. The only thing keeping him in that position was Flack's one of trembling arms, tight around his upper body. Danny stared with heavy-lidded, glazed eyes as Flack languidly licked at his fingers, covered in the CSI's ejaculation.

The taller man moaned his appreciation, sucking on his forefinger and looking back at Danny with similarly dozy eyes. "Mmmmm, now that's top-quality cream."

Danny laughed softly, inclining forward to kiss Flack. He tasted himself on those pink lips. He tentatively shifted his hips and realized Flack was still inside him, softening. After Flack broke their kiss, he carefully raised Danny off. Danny whimpered anyway. He hated parting from Flack this way. It always felt as if there was an emptiness within him that was no longer filled every time.

Flack gently laid him on his back on the bed, tugging the blanket over him, moving away and out of view. The shorter man's eyes were already nearly closed, and he mumbled something about Flack staying in the bed with him. He heard the water running from the sink in the bathroom. Then silence for some time. His eyelids flickered, then shut completely.

Danny didn't know how much time had passed when Flack returned to the bed. He felt a damp cloth being wiped over his neck, chest and abdomen, and he murmured his thanks. He opened his eyes to see Flack leave the cloth on the bedside table.

"C'mon, lazybones, move over," Flack said affectionately.

Danny wriggled backwards, letting Flack crawl under the blanket and settle down. Instantly, he was snuggled on top of the homicide detective, one leg and one arm tight around the taller man. He rubbed his face against Flack's neck and breathed in the man's natural scent. He sleepily wondered how it was possible for a guy to smell so good.

"Good thing we're both off tomorrow." Flack yawned widely. "My arms are killin' me."

Danny's shoulders shook under Flack's arm. The taller detective speedily spanked him on the bottom with his other hand.

"S'your fault."

Danny smiled into Flack's neck. "S'not like ya didn't enjoy it."

Flack's chest shook in silent laughter. "Best apple pie … I ever had," Flack whispered drowsily, ending his statement with another yawn.

Eventually, the homicide detective's breaths evened out. Danny waited for some time, in case the guy was still partially awake.

" … dumb cat …"

Danny lifted up his head to look at Flack's face. Yep. The man was sleeping soundly. And talking in his sleep again.

" … shooo …"

Danny wasn't sure what he was going to do if Flack kept this up for years to come. He bit his lip. Man, he actually considered the idea of them being together for years.

And he wasn't in the least bit freaked out.

He smiled to himself.

"Don … how do ya feel 'bout me?"

Flack began to snore. He sniffled once. Twitched his nose.

" … apple pie …"

The man resumed snoring.

Danny laughed noiselessly, then lay back down on his lover, nestling his body close to the warmth emanating from Flack. He shifted diminutively until he was close to Flack's ear.

"I have another confession, Don," Danny whispered huskily.

He nuzzled Flack's cheek, closing his eyes. A tiny but content smile curved up his lips.

"You're my apple pie too."

Fin.