Title: Over
Author: Kuroi Neko-kun
Pairings: Mac/Don
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: CBS owns CSI: NY as well as the whole CSI cake. I'd like a slice of it but they killed off my favorite slice. :D
A/N: After reading Lament's 'Comfort', this played in my head for awhile. I was thinking of the possibility of Mac/Flack but I didn't how to put it. Lament, you have inspired me!
Summary: "It's over. I'm not doing this anymore."


***

"It's over. I'm not doing this anymore." Those words tumbled out of my mouth as I stared at the man whom those words were for. He cocked his head to one side, as if trying to decipher my words.

"So you really want to give this up?" he asked," Really?" I wouldn't have to if the chain of events that led to this predicament hadn't occurred. In the end, I realized that this was my entire fault. I couldn't help it since I was attracted to him and he needed me.

This would never have happened if I wasn't driving about one night, trying to clear my head from a child murder case. The kid, Joanna Silver, four years old, was beaten to death because of her mother's uncontrollable temper. The kid's body was dumped in a dumpster. For the obvious reason, I couldn't stop thinking about it. What kind of mother beats her own flesh and blood to death then dumps the kid into a dumpster like she's garbage? I just don't get people sometimes. I could see the CSI I was working with was affected. Mac did his sleepless drone routine and worked nonstop. Being the detective on the case, I had to do the same. Not just for the case but for Mac. I always stay up for Mac, even if I'm at home, in the station or in CSI. Call it crazy but I just wanted to be there for the guy. I did it often though I didn't know why I did it… yet. Recently, I was having my intimate time with one of my lady friends when I found I wasn't thinking of her when we were together. I was thinking of Mac. That kept me awake for a whole new reason. My attraction to Mac could be just a schoolboy crush but it left an impact. The restraint was unbearable when I was around him. Back to my driving, I had turned at an intersection and headed to one of the seedier bars of Brooklyn. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a DUI nutcase. But I could use a beer, a seat at the far end of the bar and time to collect my thoughts. As I stepped into the bar, I saw the last person I would have thought I'd see in a bar, surrounded by at least five bottles and downing his sixth.

"Mac?" I blurted out, shocked to see him here. The Mac Taylor I knew doesn't drown himself in alcohol. Then again, the Mac Taylor I knew is also a part of my fantasies. Mac looked at me before turning back to his bottle, now empty. He motioned for one more. I gave the bartender a steely eye and said no. I walked up to Mac and grabbed his shoulder.

"Mac? What are you doing?"

"Drowning, Flack," he answered, a slight slur in his words. I let out a sigh.

"I'm going to stop you from drowning any further," I said, pulling him out from his chair. He barely put up a fight and followed me to my car. I asked him where was his and he answered, "cab." Once I got him in, strapped the seatbelts on and closed the door, I stood there and contemplated the situation for a few minutes. Mac gets drunk and I pop by and he doesn't fight when I pull him out of the bar. It's like he wanted to be pulled out. Maybe all he wanted was attention. I sighed and walked over to driver's side of my car. Once I was in and ready, I couldn't help glancing at Mac. He was staring out the passenger side window, not wanting to look at me.

"Mac, is there something I need to know?" I asked, concerned about him.

"It's nothing Flack." Nothing would mean you'd be at home trying to sleep. Drunk in a bar doesn't define 'nothing'.

"Is it the case?"

"No."

"I'm not letting up until I get an answer," I said. Mac finally turned to me and gave a humorless smile.

"That's why you're a great detective, Flack," he muttered.

"No, it doesn't," I said," Now tell me why." Mac fell silent and looked at me, his piercing green eyes boring into my blue ones.

"I can't go home," he finally said. I knew that was an encrypted message. This had nothing to do with the case. It had a lot to do with Claire. But even with Claire, Mac doesn't drink himself to the pits. When it came to Claire, Mac works himself to the ground. I didn't want to bring this part up at all.

"Fine, you're coming home with me," I said before I gave those words some thought. And that marked the greatest mistake in my life.

I remembered that it happened as soon as I led him into my apartment. I couldn't remember details but I remembered that I offered to take his jacket and he pushed me to a wall and kissed me hungrily. Mine you he was the drunken one, not me. I could just feed on his loneliness. It clicked to me why he was drunk and he doesn't want to go home. He was lonely. Alcohol numbs loneliness but it doesn't really go away. I just gave in because I wanted this. I wanted him. Too much, I guess as we started making this weekly. Just to let him off the loneliness at first but I started feeling something that was off this tangent. I was starting to fall for him. I knew I was going too far. I mean I can't fall in love with Mac Taylor but I did. I fucking did. I guess I rang alarm bells when I asked him out to dinner. He refused before telling that what we have was strictly it. I pushed it though, pushed it to an extent that made me desperate. That's why I told him that it was over. I don't want to do this anymore because I can't handle it. Because I wanted more than a fuck…

"I'm willing to give this up, Mac," I sad, answering his question," Because I need to be away from you. I need to get over you."

"What the hell are you talking about, Flack?" That's cute. Even after all this I'm still Flack to him.

"I'm in love with you, Mac!" I finally announced in anger," And I can't have you screwing with my heart because what we have is just a fuck a week!" Mac is still looking at me like I grew three heads. I sighed, calming down. I really don't need this.

"I'm going," I said but I made no notion of moving. I'm glued there for some reason. He never responded. Figures. My body was giving him one last chance and he isn't taking it. I turned and walked away. That's the last time I'm listening to my heart than my head. Last time.

End