Pairing - Danny / Flack
Rating - R-15
Summary- The team is divided in a men versus women bet. The men lose.
You can leave your hat on
The lights were dimmed over the cheering audience, all of the spotlights directed at the low stage at the front of the room. On the stage, four men in NYPD uniforms and black masks over their eyes danced and gyrated to the beat of the music. Suddenly, as one, they ripped open their shirts and pulled them off, tossing them into the crowd.
There was a chorus of whistles and cheers and a chant began, punctuated by clapping.
“Off! Off! Off!”
(Five days earlier.)
The bar was full, mainly of off-duty cops, all unwinding after a long day. At their favourite table at the back of the room, just far enough away from the music to be able to hold a conversation, five CSI’s, a lab tech and a detective argued.
Well, the CSI’s and the lab tech argued; the detective sat back and enjoyed his drink. It was all in good nature, of course, the competitive nature of the CSI turning them into squabbling children.
“I’m tellin’ ya, Stella, we’re gonna get there first,” Danny announced, leaning over the table and almost spilling his beer.
Stella shook her head emphatically. “Not. We’re this close,” she said, demonstrating the minute distance between her thumb and forefinger.
Don Flack laughed softly. This stupid competition had been going on for the past month after a semi-innocent comment a while back that the men of the lab solved more cases than the women. It had begun a battle and at present the tally chart on the wall of the break room was even; whoever solved their next case first would win the war as tomorrow was the final day.
“Yeah, Danny,” Lyndsay chipped in, looking decidedly too happy after the third large glass of wine. “Prepare to lose.”
Adam frowned at her. “You’ll be eating those words, Munroe.”
“So how about we make this interesting?” Stella suggested. “Put your money where your mouths are, boys.”
Flack should have known that trouble was coming when he saw the mischievous twinkle in Danny’s eyes.
“Now come on, ladies,” Danny said, “I’m sure we can find somethin’ more interestin’ than money.”
As Mac joined them with Jess, lab-tech and Lyndsay and Stella’s partner in crime, he was volunteered to keep the bets since he refused to take part.
“One sealed bet per team, handed to Mac to hold, OK?”
“Nothing illegal and nothing that will interfere with the lab,” Mac warned them. “In fact, the forfeit has to be held at the Christmas party.”
Danny nodded then he and Stella shook hands on it, the women scurrying off to discuss their forfeit in private. He was a little worried about what they’d come up with; Jess, the lab tech who had joined their team, wouldn’t be too hard on them but when Stella and Lyndsay got together…
“We gotta decide on somethin’ good,” he said.
When Flack stayed sitting with Mac, not putting any ideas on the table, Danny glanced over at him.
“Since when was I a part of this bet?” Flack asked.
Danny shuffled closer and his hand began trailing slowly up his boyfriend’s thigh. Licking his lips seductively, Danny smiled.
Flack uttered a loud, martyred sigh as Mac laughed.
“I think in your case it’s participation by association,” Mac told him.
“You have been helping us,” Hawkes added.
“Fine,” Flack agreed, knowing that he wouldn’t have been able to say no to Danny for long anyway. He never could.
Danny beamed at him happily. “If we weren’t here, I could kiss you right now.”
Flack had been thinking the very same thing. It wasn’t a secret by any means that he and Danny were together but they didn’t exactly flaunt it. No one really cared so long as they weren’t in-your-face with their relationship.
The next morning, Mac put the two sealed, white envelopes in his desk drawer and locked it.
He was dreading and anticipating the contents in equal measures. The one thing he did know was that he was glad that he was only holding the bets and not participating.
Danny decided to wait until he reached Flack’s house that night and had plied him with enough wine to soften the blow of the news before he broke it.
“Donny, I got somethin’ to tell you,” he began. “Lynds closed her case this afternoon. We lost.”
Flack groaned. “So what’ve we got to do?”
Since their forfeit had involved the women, dressed in bunny-girl outfits, being their personal servants for the entire party he was dreading what the women had come up with as a counter strike. He saw the look on Danny’s face and started to worry.
“Danny? Out with it.”
Reluctantly Danny took the slip of paper from his pocket and handed it over, watching as Flack read it.
“No way. I am not doing it!”
Danny took the paper from him and dropped it onto the floor beside the couch before crawling into Flack’s lap. He brushed a kiss over Flack’s lips.
“Have I ever told you,” kiss, “how sexy you’d look,” kiss, “in one of those uniforms?”
His fingers began unfastening the buttons on Flack’s shirt as his mouth moved lower, sucking at the pulse-point on Flack’s neck.
“That’s not playin’ fair, Messer,” Flack complained, rather half-heartedly.
“Nope,” Danny agreed, having got his shirt undone and moved onto his belt. “But it’s the truth.”
Flack sucked in a breath as Danny’s fingers wormed their way inside his pants and thought, screw it. He could argue this tomorrow, he decided. Right now, he had better things to do.
It was the night of the Christmas party. The shifts had been rearranged to make sure that half of the lab could be there, the other half having their party the following weekend. They had hired out a function room in a nearby club, caterers providing the spread and their own private bar. At one end of the room, a stage was set up. Usually it was used for the open mike nights that the club held but tonight, it had a different purpose.
Stella climbed up on the stage and called for attention. When she didn’t get it, she stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled. The room fell silent.
“OK, folks, it’s time for the reason half of you are here. Give ‘em a big cheer!”
The lights dimmed as the cheers grew louder. There were roughly double the amount of cops who usually came to these work celebrations here tonight, Mac thought as he watched the lights suddenly illuminate the stage. Beside him, Stella clapped wildly, whistling. On his other side, Lyndsay was bouncing around like a kid on a sugar rush.
He really pitied the guys.
The spotlights on the stage showed the four men as they strutted forward, dressed in beat-cop uniforms. They all wore a black mask that covered their eyes and nose but it did little to hide their identities, especially since he knew that Stella had told everyone who they were when she was inviting most of the NYPD to attend.
The music began- Tom Jones, You can leave your hat on- and the four began to sway to the beat in a slow dance. Their movements were choreographed, perfectly timed, as they slowly slid their jackets off, dropping them casually to the stage. As they ripped open their shirts, trailing hands teasingly down now-bare torsos, the women started to whistle again.
Stella almost jumped out of her seat trying to catch the shirt that came her way, thrown into the crowd from the stage as it was removed.
Mac had to laugh at the look on Stella’s face as she caught the garment and sat back down, glancing back as he heard the chant from the back of the room.
“Off! Off! Off!”
Up on the stage, the four gyrated around, toned torsos rippling as they moved. They teased their audience as they unfastened their belts oh so slowly until they finally gripped the waistbands of their uniform and whipped them off in one move, the snaps down the sides coming apart easily. They continued to dance dressed in nothing more than boots, g-strings and their hats, moving to the music.
The music began to wind down and they turned as one to walk away, toward the back of the stage, but then stopped as the calls for ‘encore!’ got louder. Each man looked back over his shoulder, smiling at the crowd, and then took his hat off, flinging it into the audience.
The stage went dark.
In the room they had set aside to get changed in, Flack pulled off his mask and began to laugh.
“I cannot believe I just did that.”
Danny pounced, pressing him to the wall as he kissed him. “Told you you’d look sexy in that uniform,” he said, eventually pulling back far enough to speak.
“’Didn’t look too bad yourself, Messer.”
“Ya know, maybe we should keep that outfit…” Danny purred, looking thoughtful.
“I really didn’t need to hear that, Danny,” Hawkes grumbled good naturedly, as he and Adam came over to join them, pulling on shirts and jeans.
“We are never going to live this down, you know,” Adam pointed out, even though he was laughing too.
Sure enough, the following day, everyone in the department’s ring-tone was set to the same song- Tom Jones, You can leave your hat on. Danny’s cheeks pinked when he heard it and Stella grinned as she watched from Mac’s office.
“You are one evil woman, you know that?” Mac told her, biting his lip to stop himself laughing.
Note- Where this came from, I have no idea, but once it was stuck in my imagination, I just had to write it. Mainly, I just wanted to see the guys strip. Ah, the wonders of a good imagination…