For those who are comfy in reviewing in FF.net: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3469255/1/ A/N: New story! Whee… and this is an experimental piece. Before I end “November”, I’m starting this one. I say experimental because I have no idea where this’ll end up. This is Frankie and Stella POV. But you know me, I’m a true blue SMACker and nothing in the world could change that – even if they go and marry other people, I’mma find a way to have them end back up together haha! Anyway, setting: early-mid season 2 starting with Jamalot. The idea came to me when I was watching reruns and I haven’t seen any fics with Frankie on the helm. So this is a posthumous piece, since he has been killed (there, I said it haha). Enjoy! ************* HIS END OF THE CONVERSATION © CATE “Really?” Stella said over the phone. “Yes, I did. I was planning to take you out but I thought it would be better if we eat in,” I said, holding my phone against my ear with my shoulder as I sketched out a design. “Where to?” “My place,” she said in a heartbeat. “Just as long as you don’t stay over. You know me.” I didn’t like that rule. No men in her place. Come on, I’m his boyfriend, we have been in my bed twice, we’ve been officially going out for eight months or so and it’s pointless not to have me stay over really. I bet that boss of hers had been there more times than I could count. “If that’s the case, then my place would be better. You can stay over if you like.” “No, I think my place would be better,” she persisted. I knew she was joking; that she actually meant the opposite. “8 p.m. okay with you? I’ll be waiting at the stoop,” I said, placing my pencil down and looking at the half-finished sculpture beside me. “I know how you hate my doorman.” My hand reached out to smoothen the nose of the face to make it look perfect… Aresanob. “Okay. I’ll be there,” she started. I could almost see her, seated in her office, twirling the telephone cord on her finger with that wide smile on her face that I can’t seem to mimic on clay. But as soon as her flirty laugh emanated from the earpiece, she ended it with, “Ah ok, bye-b…” she didn’t even have to finish the last part. Dial tone. That abrupt ending to our conversation only meant one thing… her boss. Mac Taylor is her co-worker slash partner for the past 10 years or so, she told me. Actually, for the first months of our relationship, she talked endlessly about that man. I told myself not to be jealous of him since he has been there first and they work together, no funny business – but it’s hard not to once you see how Stella’s wonderful green eyes shine when she talked about him. Even when she’s venting frustration about the man, her eyes would sparkle and real emotions mar her face. I saw him once or twice but we never really got introduced or acquainted in any way. He was busy talking with that blond punk with the glasses and that woman who looked like a little girl when I walked into their crime lab in search for Stella. She had me help her in a case and I was only too happy to oblige. But that also meant seeing her interact with other guys – particularly Mac Taylor. They weren’t even working the same case but she still made it a point to stop and talk to him in the hallway, sharing a laugh over a private joke. I don’t know why it infuriated me so much to see her with him – she would talk to the blond punk, to the Armani model detective and that rookie CSI and it would be fine by me. Yet with that ex-Marine… I can’t even explain it. For me, the more time she spends at work doesn’t only mean less time with me. That also meant that she’s spending more time with him. I know she’d rather share a pizza with him after shift than skip work for a day to be with me. He knows her more than I do; he has the aces and I don’t. I felt stupid competing against a man who’s not even in the game – a man who’s not even dealing his cards. Well, I’m dealing mine. I’m hiding my tells. And my price… is Stella. ************************ I know I should be typing out my report. I should be processing evidence on our case. I should be anywhere but on the phone. I shouldn’t be talking to my boyfriend in the middle of my shift. I know that I shouldn’t have entertained Frankie’s call. “No, I think my place would be better,” I joked when he offered that we order in for dinner. It’s a game we play – how long will he take to break my no men in my house rule. So far, he’s not even warm. “8 p.m. okay with you? I’ll be waiting at the stoop. I know how you hate my doorman,” he said, seeing through my reply. I don’t really hate the doorman at his apartment building; I just don’t like him ogling me. “Okay. I’ll be there,” I said with a smile. I must admit, I haven’t been spending much quality time with Frankie. Both of us are busy people – me more than him – and we rarely have synchronizing schedules. But this day, we made it a point to spend time with each other more. I was admiring New York City from my office at the 35th floor of this building. It’s funny how two different people from two very different work circles meet and somehow find a connection. Frankie and I met in an auction. I was into art and he was an artist. I was a CSI and he (as he said) failed all his Science subjects in high school. Yet, we hit it off right away. He started taking me to these art shows and I asked him a couple of times to help with my cases. It was a healthy relationship for him and for me. Frankie was about to say something but when I turned my swivel chair around, I saw Mac walking towards my office. And he’ll be expecting results. Results… that I don’t have. “Ah ok, bye-bye,” I said breathlessly as I almost slammed the receiver on the base just in time as Mac entered the room. To make up for my disheveled and disoriented state, I stood and up spoke before he could even ask anything. “I’ve talked with the coach. He’s a letch but…” “But he’s not a killer,” he finished for me. I recoiled a bit and collected myself. He had that glint in his eyes as if he knew what I was doing instead of working on our case. He held my gaze for a second before shifting his eyes to the folder in his hands. “What do you got?” I asked him, looking at the same thing. He then proceeded to explain to me about the DNP content of the rest of the Manhattan Minx team except for one person. I offered to drive over to that girl’s workplace so we can ask her questions. For the rest of the day, I couldn’t shake Mac’s expression when he ‘caught’ me. I was like a teenage girl who couldn’t look straight at her father’s eyes because she knew she was in trouble – not that I know how that really feels but it’s close. I couldn’t look at him straight in the eye without blushing. Mac does know about Frankie and that he’s my ‘artist boyfriend’ as he would describe him at first. Both men have not been in the same room ever. I can’t seem to introduce on to the other without a tension overload. Somehow, I needed Mac’s stamp of approval on Frankie. And I needed Frankie to be sure that Mac is just my friend and co-worker – nothing more. So far, I don’t think I’m doing a good job on either. Come to think of it, Mac is the only guy whom I’ve spent most of my time with. Our jobs require long hours in the lab, out in the field and it has crazy hours, being on call 24/7. And being his right hand, we tend to pair up every time. It has been that way ever since I transferred to the crime lab. We had that understanding that nobody else seemed to have. Because of the job, I lost my social life – no friend would listen to gruesome details of a heavy case, no guy would be interested in a woman in a man’s work turf. And also because of the job, I forgot how it is to be intimately attracted to someone. I admired Mac. He’s a man of strength, loyalty and dignity – I don’t think I can speak enough words about him. Romantic love for the man was so far away from my mind. Plus the fact that he was married when I met him; I knew he’s one of those untouchables. Instead, I tend to look for guys who are just like him knowing that there wasn’t anyone out there just like him. Well, at least I have Frankie. Mac? I doubt it worked out between that Rose woman and himself. He did go out for drinks with her about a year ago and then he never talked about it. His mention of a possible ‘date’ at the roller derby – well, I was joking. A roller derby is not really a date place especially if the woman gave the invitation. I’d never take Mac – er… Frankie – watching that. Sometimes, I feel the need to be with Mac as much as I can. I could see the loneliness in his eyes when it’s just the two of us talking. When I talk about Frankie, he keeps this air around him, as if he’s not affected – but I knew him better than that. Me being with Frankie meant that I might not be there to be with him all the time. And that bothers me… at the same time, it makes me sad. I’ve invested a big chunk of myself and my emotions to him that it’s very hard to change that. That night, I arrive at Frankie’s place, still distracted. We watched a horror movie – his hopes that I might bet frightened and hold on/lean onto him. It did a good job keeping my mind away from Mac but when the food came: pesto pasta, Caesar’s salad and… “Cannoli,” Frankie said in the best Italian accent he could fake. That reminded me that I haven’t held my end of the bargain with Mac. “Are you okay, baby?” I managed to nod and take a bite off one end of the cannoli. Frankie plated the food and we switched from watching that horror flick to a proper date movie. I must admit that I was enjoying this night, with Frankie and a plate of cannoli – hey, that rhymed! But… I wonder what he’s doing now? Is he having another TV dinner tonight or some unhealthy fast food take out? What is he watching? Has he gone home already or is he still at work? Frankie started to kiss the back of my neck. It distracted me from what I was thinking for sure. Those butterfly kisses led to his artwork-filled bedroom and me waking up the morning after alone in bed because Frankie was an early riser. I could smell him all around me – on me, beside me. It was a little creepy to wake up with at least ten pairs of 2D and 3D eyes staring at you. He said he wanted to have his best work in his bedroom until he got enough for a ‘very best’ exhibit. It was a bit lonely in there. It was silent apart from the shrill ring of a phone… mine. It rang twice more before I got to it. “Bonasera?” I scratched. “Why won’t you open your door?” the caller said. “I’ve been here for five minutes. We’re running late for work.” Mac. “Uh… sorry,” I scrambled for words. “Mac, I’m… I’m not…” “Stella! You up?” Frankie said from the adjacent art studio. The silence between Mac and I over the phone was deafening. “Mac, I…” “You’re not home,” he finished. Something in the tone of his voice made my stomach drop. “That’s okay, Stell. I’ll see you later at the lab,” then he clicked off without even letting me say anything else. I locked my phone and dressed myself with the same clothes I had last night. I checked Frankie’s studio; he was working on one of his projects commissioned by the public library. “Hey Frankie, I have to go,” I said, trying to sound sweet. “I’ll call you later?” He walked over to me and gave me a kiss. “Catch ‘em, princess,” he said before letting me go. On my way to my apartment, I couldn’t help but feel very guilty. Mac went out of his way to fetch me only to find out that I wasn’t home. He lives at the opposite side of town from my place. I bet it’s probably a surprise – I would be awoken by the doorbell ringing and find him there with a brown paper bag of breakfast that we can have together. Instead, I woke up on another man’s bed – leaving Mac waiting for no one. At work, I couldn’t look at Mac in the eye. He couldn’t either. We pretty much avoided each other the whole day. And I hate to think this but – it’s awkward to walk around my close friend with him knowing what I was doing late last night. *********************** So how was it?
It is something new as you already said but I really like it!! ...The things you say about Mac's and Stella's raltionship and all are really nice!..update soon,and maybe she won't kill him in this fic!
Haha, I'll find a way. But I think I'm going to stick with the program... just writing out the behind-the-scenes according to me lol... the underlying SMACked amidst the Frankie issue.
Not sure how long it'll be but please post soon! Good start. *nudge nudge* What about November Day? I want that epilogue!
ok..whatever the writer says!!..Exams,hehe,I am on vacation for two weeks for Easter!!I wish you good luck!Waiting for those updates!
Haha, hey, I wasn't bluffing, I really have exams -- but right now, I'm sneaking behind my prof hahaha -- free Internet!
:lol:I know,I'm just saying I'm lucky for once because I have two weeks until I go back to school and you have exams! ...anyways,good SMACKed luck again! :lol:
That was great!!..I loved that you made Stella know about the jazz bar!..Really nice..more soon..This is developing[?]very good...stupid Frankie ..
this is great as usual. I love the Armani Suit detective part and the punk with glasses I can't wait for more