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rwryterTitle: Anniversary
Author: Me, myself, and I
Summary: A fight affects everyone in one way or another.
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Author's Note: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sarcasticsra.
“What the hell did you do that for, Doctor?” Cragen bellowed.
“That boy needs help. He wasn’t aware when he pulled the trigger. It’s my job to help people like him, and that’s what I did. Casey wouldn’t listen, but the defense attorney did,” Huang said quietly.
Elliot, leaning against the filing cabinets, arms crossed over his chest, interrupted. “He killed two kids. Who’s gonna pay for that?”
“I don’t know, Detective, but not that boy. It wasn’t his fault.”
“It’s not your job to screw up our cases.” Cragen wasn’t yelling anymore. He sounded almost too controlled.
“No, Captain, my job is to say what you want me to say, isn’t it?” Huang turned and left the office, shaking slightly.
“Don’t start, Elliot,” Cragen warned
“Hey, it’s none of my business if your home life’s going to be hell for awhile.”
Cragen groaned. “Don’t I know it.”
Elliot opened the office door. “I’ve got paperwork to do. Or not. What is it, Olivia?”
“Mount Sinai, couple of kids somebody used as punching bags.”
“Get to it,” Cragen said, sitting down.
“Hey Captain, did you have to pick a fight on your anniversary?” Olivia asked as she was leaving.
Shit, she’s right. That’s it, he’s never speaking to me again.
When Cragen got home that night, the only light on in the apartment was next to the chair Huang was sitting in.
“George—”
“Don’t even try, Don. There’s takeout in the fridge. I was planning something better, but it didn’t seem worth it now.”
“George, don’t be like that.”
He refused to answer, turning the page of his book instead. Don sighed and went to heat the takeout. Why does he have to be such a girl when we fight? He knew that wasn’t fair of him and that Casey—not to mention Olivia—would really chew him out if they knew he had thought it, but he didn’t care.
Don slept on the couch that night.
At the station the next day, they were cordial and reserved toward each other. Olivia wasn’t the only one to notice their attitudes; Munch and Fin hardly talked about anything else.
“If you talked to me like that,” Fin declared, “I’d kick your ass.”
“No you wouldn’t.”
“Yeah, I love your skinny white ass too much.” The next time he got a chance, Fin copped a feel of said ass and was whacked with a file for it.
Elliot knew what was wrong, but didn’t want to get involved. Whenever Olivia brought it up, he shrugged and told her it was between the Cap’n and the doc, then changed the subject.
Cragen left early that night. An exasperated Casey demanded a reason when she stopped in to ask him about a case, but after Elliot explained why, she calmed down. And hit on him.
Casey left, furious and embarrassed, with Olivia trying desperately not to laugh while Casey could still hear her.
“Elliot, what did you say to her?”
“After she asked me to dinner on Friday, I told her that I’d have to check, but I was sure Mike and I could join her,” he replied with a wry grin.
When George got home, the air was filled with the smell of sizzling steak and…chocolate cake? Don was in the kitchen, stirring what could be gravy.
“You’re not bribing me with food.” George’s stomach growled as he said it.
“You’re home earlier than I expected. How can I make it up to you, then?”
“Not like this.”
“George. That doesn’t answer my question.”
“No, it doesn’t, does it?”
“Come on, George.”
“You don’t want to know what’s wrong, just how to fix it?”
“I know what’s wrong.” George looked at him askance. Don sighed. “I acted as though you didn’t know what you were doing and you should make getting a conviction a higher priority than doing your job. I also forgot our anniversary.” When George frowned, he added, “Olivia reminded me.”
“All right, so you know what’s wrong. Dinner will help make up for forgetting yesterday. As for the rest, an apology might be a good place to start.”
“I’m an idiot, aren’t I?” Don turned off the stove and dropped the spoon, then crossed to George. He rested his hands on George’s shoulders. “Baby, I’m sorry. I know you know your job, and I shouldn’t have treated you like that. I know your job is to make sure the perps are culpable, and I’m sorry for acting like it isn’t. Forgive me?”
George smiled up at him. “All you had to do was ask.”
After dinner, they cleared the dishes, slipping back into their easy domestic roles. George was leaning into Don as they washed and dried the dishes, occasionally running soap-slicked fingers down his arm. When the last plate was put away, Don bent and pulled George into a long, tender, passionate kiss.
Instead of sleeping on the couch, Don slept in their bed with George curled on and around him. The precinct was far more relaxed the next day.
Author: Me, myself, and I
Summary: A fight affects everyone in one way or another.
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Author's Note: For
sarcasticsra.“What the hell did you do that for, Doctor?” Cragen bellowed.
“That boy needs help. He wasn’t aware when he pulled the trigger. It’s my job to help people like him, and that’s what I did. Casey wouldn’t listen, but the defense attorney did,” Huang said quietly.
Elliot, leaning against the filing cabinets, arms crossed over his chest, interrupted. “He killed two kids. Who’s gonna pay for that?”
“I don’t know, Detective, but not that boy. It wasn’t his fault.”
“It’s not your job to screw up our cases.” Cragen wasn’t yelling anymore. He sounded almost too controlled.
“No, Captain, my job is to say what you want me to say, isn’t it?” Huang turned and left the office, shaking slightly.
“Don’t start, Elliot,” Cragen warned
“Hey, it’s none of my business if your home life’s going to be hell for awhile.”
Cragen groaned. “Don’t I know it.”
Elliot opened the office door. “I’ve got paperwork to do. Or not. What is it, Olivia?”
“Mount Sinai, couple of kids somebody used as punching bags.”
“Get to it,” Cragen said, sitting down.
“Hey Captain, did you have to pick a fight on your anniversary?” Olivia asked as she was leaving.
Shit, she’s right. That’s it, he’s never speaking to me again.
When Cragen got home that night, the only light on in the apartment was next to the chair Huang was sitting in.
“George—”
“Don’t even try, Don. There’s takeout in the fridge. I was planning something better, but it didn’t seem worth it now.”
“George, don’t be like that.”
He refused to answer, turning the page of his book instead. Don sighed and went to heat the takeout. Why does he have to be such a girl when we fight? He knew that wasn’t fair of him and that Casey—not to mention Olivia—would really chew him out if they knew he had thought it, but he didn’t care.
Don slept on the couch that night.
At the station the next day, they were cordial and reserved toward each other. Olivia wasn’t the only one to notice their attitudes; Munch and Fin hardly talked about anything else.
“If you talked to me like that,” Fin declared, “I’d kick your ass.”
“No you wouldn’t.”
“Yeah, I love your skinny white ass too much.” The next time he got a chance, Fin copped a feel of said ass and was whacked with a file for it.
Elliot knew what was wrong, but didn’t want to get involved. Whenever Olivia brought it up, he shrugged and told her it was between the Cap’n and the doc, then changed the subject.
Cragen left early that night. An exasperated Casey demanded a reason when she stopped in to ask him about a case, but after Elliot explained why, she calmed down. And hit on him.
Casey left, furious and embarrassed, with Olivia trying desperately not to laugh while Casey could still hear her.
“Elliot, what did you say to her?”
“After she asked me to dinner on Friday, I told her that I’d have to check, but I was sure Mike and I could join her,” he replied with a wry grin.
When George got home, the air was filled with the smell of sizzling steak and…chocolate cake? Don was in the kitchen, stirring what could be gravy.
“You’re not bribing me with food.” George’s stomach growled as he said it.
“You’re home earlier than I expected. How can I make it up to you, then?”
“Not like this.”
“George. That doesn’t answer my question.”
“No, it doesn’t, does it?”
“Come on, George.”
“You don’t want to know what’s wrong, just how to fix it?”
“I know what’s wrong.” George looked at him askance. Don sighed. “I acted as though you didn’t know what you were doing and you should make getting a conviction a higher priority than doing your job. I also forgot our anniversary.” When George frowned, he added, “Olivia reminded me.”
“All right, so you know what’s wrong. Dinner will help make up for forgetting yesterday. As for the rest, an apology might be a good place to start.”
“I’m an idiot, aren’t I?” Don turned off the stove and dropped the spoon, then crossed to George. He rested his hands on George’s shoulders. “Baby, I’m sorry. I know you know your job, and I shouldn’t have treated you like that. I know your job is to make sure the perps are culpable, and I’m sorry for acting like it isn’t. Forgive me?”
George smiled up at him. “All you had to do was ask.”
After dinner, they cleared the dishes, slipping back into their easy domestic roles. George was leaning into Don as they washed and dried the dishes, occasionally running soap-slicked fingers down his arm. When the last plate was put away, Don bent and pulled George into a long, tender, passionate kiss.
Instead of sleeping on the couch, Don slept in their bed with George curled on and around him. The precinct was far more relaxed the next day.
