CSI:New York : Who Are You? (Don Flack/OFC fanfic)

Reaching Out

Olivia handed the mug of steaming hot coffee to Mac. Black, strong, two sugars. She remembered the day they'd ate at the Empire diner how he preferred it. He was surprised to learn that she had taken the time to notice such a small thing as how he took his coffee. But then being observant was what he paid her to be.

'You're not joining me?' he asked accepting the mug.

'I have trouble sleeping,' she reminded and held aloft the glass she had refilled in the kitchen. 'My narcotic.' As she took a drink of the vodka she was very much aware that he was watching her and knew he was going to comment. She didn't have long to wait.

'Surely that only makes it worse.'

Her shrug was non-committal. 'Depends which way you look at it. I'm not an alcoholic, Mac. I just enjoy a drink.'

'Using alcohol to elicit comfort may benefit you at the time but in hindsight it only intensifies the problem that you're drinking to forget.' He dropped his eyes from the coolness of the gaze she was giving him and chewed down on his bottom lip, realizing how judgmental he had sound. 'Olivia, I - '

'Didn't take you long, did it?' A restless feeling washed over her and she shuffled to the edge of the seat, wrapping both hands around the glass.

'I'm just voicing my concerns.'

'Everybody's so concerned.' Flack had been concerned too. She took another drink, a longer one this time, just because she could and then licked her lips. Her head still hurt, her eyes still felt heavy, but the numbness was finally beginning to kick in. 'Don't tell me you've never drank too much, a little more than you should, just to forget.'

'I haven't.'

She turned her head and met his watchful gaze. 'Not even after you lost your wife?' He dropped his eyes only briefly and Olivia saw the wave of emotion flicker over his face. She sighed and wished she could take it back. It had been cruel and somewhat cold.

'I've never been a drinking man,' said Mac. 'The occasional scotch, maybe a sociable beer. I know my limitations and the dangers of becoming attached to something.'

'I can stop anytime I want.'

'So stop.'

'Maybe I'm not ready.'

'Maybe you're allowing it to control you.'

Olivia felt her teeth set. 'You know, Mac, when I let you in I made it clear that I didn't have to listen to anything you might have to say. I choose to not listen to this.' She got to her feet; the gesture was one of irritation. 'I didn't ask you to come here and dish out the advice. I don't need it. And I don't need you to sit there judging me - '

'I'm not judging you, Olivia,' he interrupted. 'And if I come over that way, then I apologize.'

For some unknown reason tears sprang to her eyes and she bit on the inside of her cheek to stop them from spilling over. She wondered how a few words could sound so stern and yet offer so much comfort. She didn't need this. She didn't need him to be here, offering his advice and support, she didn't need it...not today. Least of all today.

'You've been through a lot in your life,' he went on gently.

'I don't need your pity.'

'Empathy is not pity.'

'Same difference.'

'Won't you let anyone be sensitive to what you've been through?'

She didn't need to think about it. 'I don't need anyone.'