![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kathierif_ficTitle: A Bad Taste In Your Mouth (One Blood, One Life)
Author: Kathie (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kathierif_fic)
Fandom: CSI:NY
Pairing: none. This is gen.
Rating: FRM
Warnings: blood, violence,
Word count: 22,590 words
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Simple street cop Danny Messer is forced to give up what he loves when he is matched as a blood Donor to the vampire Mac Taylor and is supposed to center his life around the vampire's needs now. He struggles with what is happening to him, even despite the support from Mac's other Donor, Don Flack, when suddenly someone from his past comes back and kidnaps both him and Flack. It's up to Danny and Don now to survive this abduction and find their way back to where they belong.
A/Ns: A lot of thanks goes toginny305, of course, who read this and encouraged me pretty much every step of the way, and of course mer5, ebi_chan, and a2h, who keep me sane – or as close as possible to it – all the time. Written for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
csi_bigbang.
1.
The moon was just a thin sickle in the sky, hidden behind dark clouds and almost invisible from the streets of New York City. Less vibrant than the many lights of the city, the man rushing through traffic without looking left or right didn’t pay any attention to it, or anything else beyond his intent to get away from the man hot on his heels.
Pushing a pedestrian out of his way, he made a sharp turn around a newsstand, and, trying to shake off his follower, ducked into an alley that was dark and grimy.
He didn’t slow down. He wasn’t bothered by the sudden change of illumination, and his speed remained almost inhumanly fast. The trash scattered on the ground didn’t manage to slow him down in the slightest. Only when he reached the end of the alley and realized that there was nowhere else for him to go, he came to an almost abrupt stop and cursed under his breath.
He started to turn, but he didn’t get far. A heavy mass of muscles crashed into him, pulling him off his feet and sending him tumbling to the ground. Harsh breathing filled the air as he was roughly pulled around, to his front.
The man hissed in anger and annoyance and used his momentum to push the weight off his back, sending him flying into the rough sandstone of the building they were next to. He nimbly jumped to his feet and crouched low, ready to attack.
For a brief moment, only harsh breathing filled the alley, but it didn’t last.
The second man slowly climbed back to his feet and shook his head, to get rid of the dizziness that had resulted from getting slammed into a wall, before he dropped into a defensive stance opposite the man he’d chased here, strategically placing his body between the exit of the alley and this man.
“Put your hands over your head,” he said, his voice sharp and loud. “NYPD!”
A deep, animalistic growl escaped the man’s throat, and he bared sharp, pointy fangs just as the smell of warm, fresh blood filled his nostrils.
The cop, in his pursuit of him, had injured himself.
The smell drove him almost insane, sudden need and hunger overwhelming his every thought and clouding over his mind with a thick haze of red. Instead of thinking, he just allowed the oldest instincts in his body to take over.
The oldest instincts in his body, which made him rush toward the source of the blood, trying to get to it.
Trying to drink it.
The cop easily sidestepped his furious approach and managed to overwhelm him without much trouble, and before long, the man found himself with his wrists cuffed tightly behind his back.
“Derek Andersen, you’re under arrest,” the cop panted into his ear. “You have the right to remain silent…”
A loud howl interrupted him, and the cop grabbed Andersen’s arm and bodily dragged him from the alley. He blinked and grunted in displeasure when he dragged the man he’d arrested out of the dark alley and back onto the brightly lit street, where a group of uniformed officers were already waiting for them.
“You okay, Messer?” one of them, a slender woman with brown hair, called out. She was frowning slightly, but her weapon didn’t waver away from them.
“Yeah, yeah,” the cop replied and gave Derek Andersen a rough push that sent him tumbling toward the other cops. “Bloodthirsty vamp tried to run.”
The female cop lowered her weapon. “Danny, you’re bleeding,” she said, concern visible in her body language. “You need to go to the hospital.”
“I’m fine, Lindsay.” Danny Messer shook his head and glanced at his arm. The injury wasn’t bad and would, most likely, heal within a few days. He didn’t need to see a doctor because of it, that much was obvious to him.
“Did he hurt you?” Lindsay asked, and Danny shook his head.
“You know vamps, they get stupid when they smell blood, especially guys like Andersen here,” he said nonchalantly. “He doesn’t look like he had a lot of blood lately.”
Lindsay still didn’t look as if she was convinced he was okay, and Danny sighed and tugged on the sleeve of his shirt.
“That damn vamp,” he said, to distract Lindsay’s attention from the minor injury. “He tried to steal that little lady’s wallet, did you see that?”
“No,” Lindsay murmured and slipped her hand under Danny’s elbow. “I didn’t, but the little lady told me.”
“Good,” Danny replied fiercely. “Bloodsucker, shouldn’t get away with it, not this time.”
He didn’t wait for a reply as he walked back toward the squad car Lindsay had parked a few feet away, Lindsay giving him a short, confused look before hurrying after him.
None of them was paying attention to the blood that had dripped off of Danny’s arm and onto Derek Andersen’s coat, where it continued to confuse the vampire’s senses until his clothes were collected as evidence and sent to get processed.
They all had other things to think about.
TBC
Author: Kathie (
kathierif_fic)Fandom: CSI:NY
Pairing: none. This is gen.
Rating: FRM
Warnings: blood, violence,
Word count: 22,590 words
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Simple street cop Danny Messer is forced to give up what he loves when he is matched as a blood Donor to the vampire Mac Taylor and is supposed to center his life around the vampire's needs now. He struggles with what is happening to him, even despite the support from Mac's other Donor, Don Flack, when suddenly someone from his past comes back and kidnaps both him and Flack. It's up to Danny and Don now to survive this abduction and find their way back to where they belong.
A/Ns: A lot of thanks goes to
ginny305, of course, who read this and encouraged me pretty much every step of the way, and of course mer5, ebi_chan, and a2h, who keep me sane – or as close as possible to it – all the time. Written for csi_bigbang.1.
The moon was just a thin sickle in the sky, hidden behind dark clouds and almost invisible from the streets of New York City. Less vibrant than the many lights of the city, the man rushing through traffic without looking left or right didn’t pay any attention to it, or anything else beyond his intent to get away from the man hot on his heels.
Pushing a pedestrian out of his way, he made a sharp turn around a newsstand, and, trying to shake off his follower, ducked into an alley that was dark and grimy.
He didn’t slow down. He wasn’t bothered by the sudden change of illumination, and his speed remained almost inhumanly fast. The trash scattered on the ground didn’t manage to slow him down in the slightest. Only when he reached the end of the alley and realized that there was nowhere else for him to go, he came to an almost abrupt stop and cursed under his breath.
He started to turn, but he didn’t get far. A heavy mass of muscles crashed into him, pulling him off his feet and sending him tumbling to the ground. Harsh breathing filled the air as he was roughly pulled around, to his front.
The man hissed in anger and annoyance and used his momentum to push the weight off his back, sending him flying into the rough sandstone of the building they were next to. He nimbly jumped to his feet and crouched low, ready to attack.
For a brief moment, only harsh breathing filled the alley, but it didn’t last.
The second man slowly climbed back to his feet and shook his head, to get rid of the dizziness that had resulted from getting slammed into a wall, before he dropped into a defensive stance opposite the man he’d chased here, strategically placing his body between the exit of the alley and this man.
“Put your hands over your head,” he said, his voice sharp and loud. “NYPD!”
A deep, animalistic growl escaped the man’s throat, and he bared sharp, pointy fangs just as the smell of warm, fresh blood filled his nostrils.
The cop, in his pursuit of him, had injured himself.
The smell drove him almost insane, sudden need and hunger overwhelming his every thought and clouding over his mind with a thick haze of red. Instead of thinking, he just allowed the oldest instincts in his body to take over.
The oldest instincts in his body, which made him rush toward the source of the blood, trying to get to it.
Trying to drink it.
The cop easily sidestepped his furious approach and managed to overwhelm him without much trouble, and before long, the man found himself with his wrists cuffed tightly behind his back.
“Derek Andersen, you’re under arrest,” the cop panted into his ear. “You have the right to remain silent…”
A loud howl interrupted him, and the cop grabbed Andersen’s arm and bodily dragged him from the alley. He blinked and grunted in displeasure when he dragged the man he’d arrested out of the dark alley and back onto the brightly lit street, where a group of uniformed officers were already waiting for them.
“You okay, Messer?” one of them, a slender woman with brown hair, called out. She was frowning slightly, but her weapon didn’t waver away from them.
“Yeah, yeah,” the cop replied and gave Derek Andersen a rough push that sent him tumbling toward the other cops. “Bloodthirsty vamp tried to run.”
The female cop lowered her weapon. “Danny, you’re bleeding,” she said, concern visible in her body language. “You need to go to the hospital.”
“I’m fine, Lindsay.” Danny Messer shook his head and glanced at his arm. The injury wasn’t bad and would, most likely, heal within a few days. He didn’t need to see a doctor because of it, that much was obvious to him.
“Did he hurt you?” Lindsay asked, and Danny shook his head.
“You know vamps, they get stupid when they smell blood, especially guys like Andersen here,” he said nonchalantly. “He doesn’t look like he had a lot of blood lately.”
Lindsay still didn’t look as if she was convinced he was okay, and Danny sighed and tugged on the sleeve of his shirt.
“That damn vamp,” he said, to distract Lindsay’s attention from the minor injury. “He tried to steal that little lady’s wallet, did you see that?”
“No,” Lindsay murmured and slipped her hand under Danny’s elbow. “I didn’t, but the little lady told me.”
“Good,” Danny replied fiercely. “Bloodsucker, shouldn’t get away with it, not this time.”
He didn’t wait for a reply as he walked back toward the squad car Lindsay had parked a few feet away, Lindsay giving him a short, confused look before hurrying after him.
None of them was paying attention to the blood that had dripped off of Danny’s arm and onto Derek Andersen’s coat, where it continued to confuse the vampire’s senses until his clothes were collected as evidence and sent to get processed.
They all had other things to think about.
TBC