![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kathierif_ficTitle: Somewhere Under The Sea
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kathierif_fic
Fandom: CSINY
Pairing: Mac Taylor/Danny Messer/Don Flack
Disclaimer: Not mine
Rating: FRM
Summary: Only five percent of Earth’s oceans are thoroughly explored and mapped out.
A/N: AU! Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
au_bingo, for the prompt “exploration”. 2377 words.
A/N2: This. This was meant to be the big brainship-lost AU and I had quite a bit of it written, but unfortunately, I had saved it on my phone and then I managed to find the factory reset. So...new attempt, and the chance to experiment a little with the style, and I'm not sad to say that I like this version almost better than the first.
~~~
Only five percent of Earth’s oceans are thoroughly explored and mapped out. The other ninety-five percent are completely unknown. Nobody knows what is or could be down there.
~~
The submarine is an almost cartoonish yellow, bright and happy against the muddy green of the harbor water. The sound of wind and waved is almost completely drowned out by the clang of metal on metal, orders being yelled, people working, and the ever-present sea gulls.
Jo Danville tilts her head back to look at the steel grey sky. She doesn’t even hear the sea gulls anymore, not after all these years working on ships, and the sun is hiding behind the clouds as if it fears the comparison with the submarine’s color.
Figures, she thinks, it’s the last possible week for her to enjoy the sunshine before she’s shipping out on a new boat, and it looks like rain.
A man is waiting for her on the dock. He’s dressed in a pale blue overall, the stripes on his sleeves showing his rank as Captain. He’s frowning and he looks as if he’s deep in thought, or mentally already out on the ocean again.
Jo has heard a lot about this man, about the level of his professionalism and about how much he demands of his crew. Peak condition of his team and his boat are the absolute minimum that is required under his command, but he’s supposed to be fair and willing to give people the chance to prove they’re worth their salt.
Jo’s looking forward to working with him.
The man straightens when she steps closer. There are a number of fine lines around his eyes, making him look older than he is, but his eyes are sharp and clear.
~~
Jo shakes his hand. She doesn’t need to introduce herself. Mac Taylor knew she was coming.
~~
A small grin crosses his face when they enter the boat through the docking bay doors that will get sealed shut as soon as their provisions have been put on board. “Welcome on board,” he tells her, and Jo feels her heart beat excitedly against the inside of her ribcage.
“Thank you, Captain,” she manages to say, despite the bubble of happiness and excitement blocking her throat.
Taylor looks at her. He must’ve seen something he likes in her expression, because his smile softens. “Call me Mac,” he says. “Everyone on board does.”
~~
He gives her the grand tour. Engines, labs, medical, mess, personal quarters, he knows the names of his crew members and introduces her to them. Jo prides herself on having a good memory for names, but she only manages to retain a part of the information.
She remembers Adam, the nervous mechanic who blushed in embarrassment when Mac introduced him as one of the best in the fleet, before he looked at Mac with such devotion and adoration in his expression that Jo felt compelled to look away because she felt as if she was interrupting a private moment. Jo has the impression that Adam doesn’t really feel safe in a lot of places, but here, in the bowels of a state-of-the-art submarine, he’s found his element. She remembers Hawkes, Doctor Hawkes in medical, working with Sid Hammerback, who doesn’t just work med, but is, according to Mac, a fantastic cook as well.
The labs are Mac’s home turf, and Jo knows she will work with him there.
She can’t wait.
The last stop of the tour is the control bridge.
“The boat has an excellent autopiloting function,” Mac explains as they enter the small room, crammed full of equipment. Tucked against a wall of computer screens and consoles in the piloting chair, bare wires hanging loosely around its structures. Sprawled across the chair is a lanky, dark-haired man with bright blue eyes and an amused smile.
“The autopiloting is wired directly into Flack’s brain,” Mac explains. “Under normal, controlled circumstances, he doesn’t even have to be at the controls to be in control.”
It’s cutting edge technology, Jo knows, and she’s curious to see it in action.
“I just prefer to be here because it’s quiet,” the pilot, Flack, says and gives Jo a little wave. “Don Flack.” More cables wind around his body and plug straight into his skin at his forearms and his neck.
“Jo Danville,” Jo introduces herself. She can’t stop grinning. There’s something about Flack’s behavior that makes her like him immediately and convinces her that working with him will be smooth sailing.
“Danny Messer,” another voice chimes up. Seconds later, a tousled blond head appears out of seemingly nowhere, and then a man hauls himself out of the opened hatch in the floor.
“Danny,” Mac says. “How’s things coming along?”
Danny scratches the back of his neck. There is a streak of motor oil along his cheek, Jo notices, and she bites the inside of her cheek in the fruitless attempt to bring her grin back under control. She’s supposed to be a professional, after all.
“Pretty good,” Danny says and gesticulates toward the chair. “Just double-checking the wiring to make sure the issue with our pilot almost electrocuting himself everytime he physically hooks himself into the system are properly taken care off.”
“Did you find the cause of the problem?” Mac asks, Jo forgotten for the moment.
Danny grins, wide and full of satisfaction, “Boom,” he says, and, “We’re good to leave tomorrow morning at eight, sharp.”
~~
The first days of their tour are filled with getting acclimated to the boat, its customs, and its crew’s sense of humor. The first morning on sea, the crew gets woken up by the Beatles’ Yellow Submarine. It’s Danny’s prank, and he carries the air of smug satisfaction all the way through the day.
Jo shares lab space with Lindsay and Sheldon, and she quickly familiarizes herself with her new teammates and the equipment. Once they reached their intended search grid, there are tests to be done, and the equipment needs to be in perfect condition then. Now is the time to find the last errors and eliminate them.
“We don’t know what we might find down there,” Mac says at breakfast the second day. “Let’s stay aware and prepared for anything.”
“You think we’ll find more weird tentacled sea monsters?” Danny teases around a bite of toast. His eyes are glinting with amusement. Next to Jo, Flack makes a choked noise he tries to muffle in his coffee.
“Maybe.” Mac doesn’t move a single facial muscle, and yet, Jo can’t help but wonder about their banter. It’s true, Mac’s boat discovered a new species of tentacled sea creatures of incredible size, but it looks as if there is more of a story behind it than the official records know.
“Let’s try not to accidentally drift off course and find new scary species,” Lindsay requests with a pointed look at Flack.
“I can’t promise,” Flack replies. “It was accidental, after all. New technologies, and all that.”
Jo wonders if she’s the only one who can see the faint blush spreading across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.
~~
A controlled sense of boredom settles over the crew after a week on sea.
“There’s nothing here, Mac,” Danny complains one evening as he flops down across Mac’s perfectly made bunk and sprawls out. “Nothing at all.”
“We don’t know that yet,” Mac answers patiently. “This area of sea hasn’t been explored yet.”
“Because there’s nothing there,” Danny grumbles and kicks off his shoes. Mac wonders for a moment if he needs to remind Danny to wear his boots when working, but he stops himself. Danny is off the clock, the same way Mac technically is, except a captain is never really off-duty, just like the pilot that has taken over his desk chair seems relaxed but is still controlling the autopilot with his mind. Don Flack is a great pilot, calm and reliable and by the book, but he is also able to display enough flexibility that he can react to any output fed to him via the sensors immediately, for example the unexpected discovery of a new species.
Besides, he’s getting along with the crew. Mac is glad to have him.
He’s not the only one.
Danny sits up and reaches for Don’s fingers with his own hand. “So, Mac,” he says. “What do you think about Jo?”
“She’s a good officer,” Mac replies carefully. “And she seems to integrate herself into the crew well.”
“Give her another week, and it’s as if she’s been here forever,” Don points out and lets Danny tug him closer.
Next, they both reach for Mac. Captain or not, a submarine has only a limited amount of space available, and Mac has nowhere to go. He lets Danny pull him close without fighting or protesting and takes the two steps that leave him standing between Danny’s spread legs.
“What are you doing?” he asks amusedly.
Danny grins up at him. “What does it look like?” he asks back and rests his hand on Mac’s hip.
“Hmm.” That is Don, whose attention is focused entirely on the two of them now.
Mac gives him a look. “If we do this, will you be able to keep the autopilot out of hit this time?” he asks.
“I think so,” Don replies and licks his lips. “I want to see Danny blow you, Mac, not fuck him while you fuck me. There’s a difference, you know. I can control this.”
Danny’s fingers brush teasingly against the front of Mac’s overall, and Mac wants to believe Don, wants to let Danny touch him, skin-to-skin. It’s been too long since he’s been touched like this - months during which the boat was overhauled and each of them went their separate ways.
He has no doubts that Don and Danny hooked up during their enforced period of rest and spent at least a part of it together, but mac has been too busy to take them up on their offer of joining them.
~~
Turns out that discovering a new species, even if it happens by accident, is a time-consuming affair. Especially if that particular member of the species damages your submarine.
~~
“Come on, Mac.” Danny looks at him with pleading eyes. “Let’s do this.”
Mac swallows, licks his suddenly dry lips, and finally closes his eyes. “If I find this boat even ten meters off-course,” he threatens half-heartedly, but Danny’s fingers are already at the zipper of his overall, nimbly tugging it down and pulling the fabric off Mac’s shoulders.
“Don’t worry,” he says, “we checked the sensors, the alarms, no matter what happens, there is no risk of us running onto a reef or anything. We’re safe.”
“Relax,” Don adds, suddenly pressed against Mac’s back. “Enjoy this. We all know that there will be no distractions once you actually start working.”
“And all it needs is one tiny little hole in this tin can and we are dead,” Danny says. “So enjoy this while you still can.” And with that, he mouths along the line of Mac’s dick through his underwear.
~~
It’s Don who frees Mac from his now soaked-through underwear, Don who strips off Mac’s t-shirt while Danny licks and sucks as if Mac’s dick is a special treat.
It’s also Don who pushes a finger into Mac, slow and sweet, rubbing against that special spot, adding a second finger and lube, but it’s Mac who moans a broken plea for Don to stop teasing.
~~
In the end, he probably has nobody to blame for what happens but himself.
~~
They fuck slowly, a slick slide of bodies against each other, Don spreading and filling him while Danny’s mouth his wet and hot and tight around him.
~~
He comes with sparks behind his closed eyelids, and then he hauls Danny up against himself and kisses him. Freeing Danny from his clothes takes a moment due to trembling, fumbling fingers, but then, he has his hand around him and Don’s teeth in his shoulder, and Danny’s tongue is in his mouth, and it’s perfect; perfect and great and he tells them that, and just as Don comes, Mac pants, half-drunk with emotion and sensation, “I think I love you two; I missed you so much, you feel good...”
~~
It turns out that Don can handle the distraction of good sex perfectly well without losing control of the autopilot, but Mac admitting to his feelings during the act is too much.
Or, to put it in Danny’s words, boom.
~~
It’s almost an hour until someone realizes they’re not exactly where they’re supposed to be, both Jo and Lindsay noticing the analysis of the water surrounding the submarine spitting out different and unexpected results.
The alarm brings Mac and Don to the control bridge within minutes, Danny sneaking in after them five minutes later. His hair is still tousled and his lips swollen, and he focuses on the sensor readings to avoid having to look into people’s faces - especially Mac’s, because the look he gives him clearly says I told you it was a bad idea.
~~
Of course Mac later denies that he tried to tell Danny that, but Danny doesn’t believe him, even if Mac wanted it as badly as Danny and Don did.
~~
The sensor readings flicker across the screens, holding everybody’s attention.
Finally, Danny licks his lips.
“Don?” he asks, his voice croaking. “Run that visual scan again.”
“I already did. Three times. What, you think there’s an error in our sensors, Mess?” Don replies, busy with the last connections between himself and the ship. A wireless connection apparently is not enough for this situation, which means danger.
Danny swallows audibly. “Either that,” he replies, “or we just discovered fucking Atlantis. By accident,” and the words sink in fast enough that Mac even forgets to frown at Danny for his language.
“By accident. Again.” Mac shakes his head. “Check the sensors again.”
~~
Turns out that discovering a sunken city accidentally while having sex is not as much fun as discovering strange subspecies of vampyromorpha.
After all, you can name the kraken, and the sunken city already has a name.
On the other hand, the treasure hidden in there is pretty awesome, too.
~end.
Author:
kathierif_ficFandom: CSINY
Pairing: Mac Taylor/Danny Messer/Don Flack
Disclaimer: Not mine
Rating: FRM
Summary: Only five percent of Earth’s oceans are thoroughly explored and mapped out.
A/N: AU! Written for
au_bingo, for the prompt “exploration”. 2377 words.A/N2: This. This was meant to be the big brainship-lost AU and I had quite a bit of it written, but unfortunately, I had saved it on my phone and then I managed to find the factory reset. So...new attempt, and the chance to experiment a little with the style, and I'm not sad to say that I like this version almost better than the first.
~~~
Only five percent of Earth’s oceans are thoroughly explored and mapped out. The other ninety-five percent are completely unknown. Nobody knows what is or could be down there.
~~
The submarine is an almost cartoonish yellow, bright and happy against the muddy green of the harbor water. The sound of wind and waved is almost completely drowned out by the clang of metal on metal, orders being yelled, people working, and the ever-present sea gulls.
Jo Danville tilts her head back to look at the steel grey sky. She doesn’t even hear the sea gulls anymore, not after all these years working on ships, and the sun is hiding behind the clouds as if it fears the comparison with the submarine’s color.
Figures, she thinks, it’s the last possible week for her to enjoy the sunshine before she’s shipping out on a new boat, and it looks like rain.
A man is waiting for her on the dock. He’s dressed in a pale blue overall, the stripes on his sleeves showing his rank as Captain. He’s frowning and he looks as if he’s deep in thought, or mentally already out on the ocean again.
Jo has heard a lot about this man, about the level of his professionalism and about how much he demands of his crew. Peak condition of his team and his boat are the absolute minimum that is required under his command, but he’s supposed to be fair and willing to give people the chance to prove they’re worth their salt.
Jo’s looking forward to working with him.
The man straightens when she steps closer. There are a number of fine lines around his eyes, making him look older than he is, but his eyes are sharp and clear.
~~
Jo shakes his hand. She doesn’t need to introduce herself. Mac Taylor knew she was coming.
~~
A small grin crosses his face when they enter the boat through the docking bay doors that will get sealed shut as soon as their provisions have been put on board. “Welcome on board,” he tells her, and Jo feels her heart beat excitedly against the inside of her ribcage.
“Thank you, Captain,” she manages to say, despite the bubble of happiness and excitement blocking her throat.
Taylor looks at her. He must’ve seen something he likes in her expression, because his smile softens. “Call me Mac,” he says. “Everyone on board does.”
~~
He gives her the grand tour. Engines, labs, medical, mess, personal quarters, he knows the names of his crew members and introduces her to them. Jo prides herself on having a good memory for names, but she only manages to retain a part of the information.
She remembers Adam, the nervous mechanic who blushed in embarrassment when Mac introduced him as one of the best in the fleet, before he looked at Mac with such devotion and adoration in his expression that Jo felt compelled to look away because she felt as if she was interrupting a private moment. Jo has the impression that Adam doesn’t really feel safe in a lot of places, but here, in the bowels of a state-of-the-art submarine, he’s found his element. She remembers Hawkes, Doctor Hawkes in medical, working with Sid Hammerback, who doesn’t just work med, but is, according to Mac, a fantastic cook as well.
The labs are Mac’s home turf, and Jo knows she will work with him there.
She can’t wait.
The last stop of the tour is the control bridge.
“The boat has an excellent autopiloting function,” Mac explains as they enter the small room, crammed full of equipment. Tucked against a wall of computer screens and consoles in the piloting chair, bare wires hanging loosely around its structures. Sprawled across the chair is a lanky, dark-haired man with bright blue eyes and an amused smile.
“The autopiloting is wired directly into Flack’s brain,” Mac explains. “Under normal, controlled circumstances, he doesn’t even have to be at the controls to be in control.”
It’s cutting edge technology, Jo knows, and she’s curious to see it in action.
“I just prefer to be here because it’s quiet,” the pilot, Flack, says and gives Jo a little wave. “Don Flack.” More cables wind around his body and plug straight into his skin at his forearms and his neck.
“Jo Danville,” Jo introduces herself. She can’t stop grinning. There’s something about Flack’s behavior that makes her like him immediately and convinces her that working with him will be smooth sailing.
“Danny Messer,” another voice chimes up. Seconds later, a tousled blond head appears out of seemingly nowhere, and then a man hauls himself out of the opened hatch in the floor.
“Danny,” Mac says. “How’s things coming along?”
Danny scratches the back of his neck. There is a streak of motor oil along his cheek, Jo notices, and she bites the inside of her cheek in the fruitless attempt to bring her grin back under control. She’s supposed to be a professional, after all.
“Pretty good,” Danny says and gesticulates toward the chair. “Just double-checking the wiring to make sure the issue with our pilot almost electrocuting himself everytime he physically hooks himself into the system are properly taken care off.”
“Did you find the cause of the problem?” Mac asks, Jo forgotten for the moment.
Danny grins, wide and full of satisfaction, “Boom,” he says, and, “We’re good to leave tomorrow morning at eight, sharp.”
~~
The first days of their tour are filled with getting acclimated to the boat, its customs, and its crew’s sense of humor. The first morning on sea, the crew gets woken up by the Beatles’ Yellow Submarine. It’s Danny’s prank, and he carries the air of smug satisfaction all the way through the day.
Jo shares lab space with Lindsay and Sheldon, and she quickly familiarizes herself with her new teammates and the equipment. Once they reached their intended search grid, there are tests to be done, and the equipment needs to be in perfect condition then. Now is the time to find the last errors and eliminate them.
“We don’t know what we might find down there,” Mac says at breakfast the second day. “Let’s stay aware and prepared for anything.”
“You think we’ll find more weird tentacled sea monsters?” Danny teases around a bite of toast. His eyes are glinting with amusement. Next to Jo, Flack makes a choked noise he tries to muffle in his coffee.
“Maybe.” Mac doesn’t move a single facial muscle, and yet, Jo can’t help but wonder about their banter. It’s true, Mac’s boat discovered a new species of tentacled sea creatures of incredible size, but it looks as if there is more of a story behind it than the official records know.
“Let’s try not to accidentally drift off course and find new scary species,” Lindsay requests with a pointed look at Flack.
“I can’t promise,” Flack replies. “It was accidental, after all. New technologies, and all that.”
Jo wonders if she’s the only one who can see the faint blush spreading across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.
~~
A controlled sense of boredom settles over the crew after a week on sea.
“There’s nothing here, Mac,” Danny complains one evening as he flops down across Mac’s perfectly made bunk and sprawls out. “Nothing at all.”
“We don’t know that yet,” Mac answers patiently. “This area of sea hasn’t been explored yet.”
“Because there’s nothing there,” Danny grumbles and kicks off his shoes. Mac wonders for a moment if he needs to remind Danny to wear his boots when working, but he stops himself. Danny is off the clock, the same way Mac technically is, except a captain is never really off-duty, just like the pilot that has taken over his desk chair seems relaxed but is still controlling the autopilot with his mind. Don Flack is a great pilot, calm and reliable and by the book, but he is also able to display enough flexibility that he can react to any output fed to him via the sensors immediately, for example the unexpected discovery of a new species.
Besides, he’s getting along with the crew. Mac is glad to have him.
He’s not the only one.
Danny sits up and reaches for Don’s fingers with his own hand. “So, Mac,” he says. “What do you think about Jo?”
“She’s a good officer,” Mac replies carefully. “And she seems to integrate herself into the crew well.”
“Give her another week, and it’s as if she’s been here forever,” Don points out and lets Danny tug him closer.
Next, they both reach for Mac. Captain or not, a submarine has only a limited amount of space available, and Mac has nowhere to go. He lets Danny pull him close without fighting or protesting and takes the two steps that leave him standing between Danny’s spread legs.
“What are you doing?” he asks amusedly.
Danny grins up at him. “What does it look like?” he asks back and rests his hand on Mac’s hip.
“Hmm.” That is Don, whose attention is focused entirely on the two of them now.
Mac gives him a look. “If we do this, will you be able to keep the autopilot out of hit this time?” he asks.
“I think so,” Don replies and licks his lips. “I want to see Danny blow you, Mac, not fuck him while you fuck me. There’s a difference, you know. I can control this.”
Danny’s fingers brush teasingly against the front of Mac’s overall, and Mac wants to believe Don, wants to let Danny touch him, skin-to-skin. It’s been too long since he’s been touched like this - months during which the boat was overhauled and each of them went their separate ways.
He has no doubts that Don and Danny hooked up during their enforced period of rest and spent at least a part of it together, but mac has been too busy to take them up on their offer of joining them.
~~
Turns out that discovering a new species, even if it happens by accident, is a time-consuming affair. Especially if that particular member of the species damages your submarine.
~~
“Come on, Mac.” Danny looks at him with pleading eyes. “Let’s do this.”
Mac swallows, licks his suddenly dry lips, and finally closes his eyes. “If I find this boat even ten meters off-course,” he threatens half-heartedly, but Danny’s fingers are already at the zipper of his overall, nimbly tugging it down and pulling the fabric off Mac’s shoulders.
“Don’t worry,” he says, “we checked the sensors, the alarms, no matter what happens, there is no risk of us running onto a reef or anything. We’re safe.”
“Relax,” Don adds, suddenly pressed against Mac’s back. “Enjoy this. We all know that there will be no distractions once you actually start working.”
“And all it needs is one tiny little hole in this tin can and we are dead,” Danny says. “So enjoy this while you still can.” And with that, he mouths along the line of Mac’s dick through his underwear.
~~
It’s Don who frees Mac from his now soaked-through underwear, Don who strips off Mac’s t-shirt while Danny licks and sucks as if Mac’s dick is a special treat.
It’s also Don who pushes a finger into Mac, slow and sweet, rubbing against that special spot, adding a second finger and lube, but it’s Mac who moans a broken plea for Don to stop teasing.
~~
In the end, he probably has nobody to blame for what happens but himself.
~~
They fuck slowly, a slick slide of bodies against each other, Don spreading and filling him while Danny’s mouth his wet and hot and tight around him.
~~
He comes with sparks behind his closed eyelids, and then he hauls Danny up against himself and kisses him. Freeing Danny from his clothes takes a moment due to trembling, fumbling fingers, but then, he has his hand around him and Don’s teeth in his shoulder, and Danny’s tongue is in his mouth, and it’s perfect; perfect and great and he tells them that, and just as Don comes, Mac pants, half-drunk with emotion and sensation, “I think I love you two; I missed you so much, you feel good...”
~~
It turns out that Don can handle the distraction of good sex perfectly well without losing control of the autopilot, but Mac admitting to his feelings during the act is too much.
Or, to put it in Danny’s words, boom.
~~
It’s almost an hour until someone realizes they’re not exactly where they’re supposed to be, both Jo and Lindsay noticing the analysis of the water surrounding the submarine spitting out different and unexpected results.
The alarm brings Mac and Don to the control bridge within minutes, Danny sneaking in after them five minutes later. His hair is still tousled and his lips swollen, and he focuses on the sensor readings to avoid having to look into people’s faces - especially Mac’s, because the look he gives him clearly says I told you it was a bad idea.
~~
Of course Mac later denies that he tried to tell Danny that, but Danny doesn’t believe him, even if Mac wanted it as badly as Danny and Don did.
~~
The sensor readings flicker across the screens, holding everybody’s attention.
Finally, Danny licks his lips.
“Don?” he asks, his voice croaking. “Run that visual scan again.”
“I already did. Three times. What, you think there’s an error in our sensors, Mess?” Don replies, busy with the last connections between himself and the ship. A wireless connection apparently is not enough for this situation, which means danger.
Danny swallows audibly. “Either that,” he replies, “or we just discovered fucking Atlantis. By accident,” and the words sink in fast enough that Mac even forgets to frown at Danny for his language.
“By accident. Again.” Mac shakes his head. “Check the sensors again.”
~~
Turns out that discovering a sunken city accidentally while having sex is not as much fun as discovering strange subspecies of vampyromorpha.
After all, you can name the kraken, and the sunken city already has a name.
On the other hand, the treasure hidden in there is pretty awesome, too.
~end.