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

The Standoff

She couldn't let it go. This was the exact reason Sanders had been on the verge of booting her out of Boston. Mac didn't want to do that. It wasn't what was best. Or what she needed. It wouldn't do anyone any good, least of all Olivia. He wanted to help her, but he knew she had to want it.

"I think you should see someone," he suggested. "Talk to someone."

A hiss of breath escaped her lips and she briefly closed her eyes. Sanders had tried this tactic on her. When she had refused point blank to have her life dissected by some shrink that had been when the decision to suspend her had come about. "Mac, I don't need - "

"I think you do," Mac cut in, watching the many different emotions play over her face. "I'll arrange it. Let you know dates, times."

"And if I refuse?"

"I hope you won't."

"What good does talking do when all you have is a bottle of vodka and bad memories for company?" she said bitingly.

Mac couldn't remember there ever being any mention in Olivia's case file about a drink problem. He made a mental note to look it over again and maybe give Derek Sanders a call. Olivia shook her head, realising she had said too much. It would only give him better cause to insist she see someone.

"I hired you, Olivia, because you're a damn good CSI," Mac told her. "But your personal life is holding you back and your obvious inability to talk about those problems are the exact reason why you haven't been on the promotion grid for two years. I want you on my team and I'd like to see you gain elevation to second grade. The only way to ensure that is by closure, by coming to terms with your past and letting go."

Olivia sighed restlessly, raking a hand through her hair. "I'll never come to terms with it and I don't need to talk to someone - "

"I wasn't done talking," he cut her off. His tone and the rigid look on his face made Olivia clamp her mouth shut. He was, after all, her supervisor. "You have the makings to become an excellent first-grade detective. Now while Sanders and the Boston Crime Lab were quick to write you off as a risk, I have no intention of doing that. I'd like you to prove all the non-believers wrong. I'll arrange for you to meet with someone."

"Because you think it'll help me be a better CSI?" she said with much sarcasm. She couldn't help herself. It was what Sanders had once thought.

"Because I'm hoping it'll help you find yourself," Mac amended. A tiny frown formed in the center of her forehead and he was mildly surprised when she didn't come back with anything. She just stood there looking stunned, almost. Like he had just offered the world on a plate or said the unexpected. Then he realised he had done just that. Nobody had cared before. Nobody had taken the time to try and reach her, because nobody had bothered to make the time to understand her. As a person - not just a CSI.

Olivia lowered her eyes from the intensity of Mac's stare. She hated when someone looked at her that way. As if they could see right inside her, read her mind and know exactly what she was feeling. She could only nod; because when she swallowed her mouth was dry.

"Does that mean you'll consider it?" Mac asked.

This time when she met his eyes she saw understanding and compassion. The understanding she could cope with, the compassion only made her want to fight back. She didn't want pity, damnit.Hell, maybe she did need to see a therapist.

"Let me know when," she said quietly.

"I will." He gestured to the door. "Now you can go get on with your processing," he said and she turned and left his office, passing Stella Bonasera who was on her way in. The veteran detective and the Lab's assistant supervisor smiled at her, and Olivia could only manage a small, shaky smile in return.