Work Text:
He knew it was only a matter of time. The question was ‘when’, not ‘if’. When would Lindsay seek her revenge for the devious trick he had played on her three days ago? It had seemed like such a good idea at the time – win the game and make her pass on the bad news to Mac, instead of him – but now he was nervous. Horribly nervous. Lindsay was far too good, and Adam began to fear that he would never see it coming.
He was right.
“Adam,” she said sweetly as they stood ankle deep in the snow, watching an extra large body bag being wrestled onto a gurney by no less than four young men. Sheldon was giving them directions, waving his arms like a signalman.
“Yup?” he mumbled, hunching his shoulders against the sharp blast of air that funnelled down the alleyway, turning it into the wind tunnel straight from hell. No, wait – hell was toasty. From the North Pole, maybe? Adam’s hat was pulled down over his ears but they were still frozen, along with his bright red cheeks. His jacket – far too thin, as usual – was buttoned up tightly across his chest. No scarf; no gloves. The sun had been shining this morning. Snow. A sneaky foe.
Just like Lindsay.
“Fancy a game?” she asked him.
“Ha ha,” Adam scoffed, exhaling bitter clouds. “Not likely. I may be weird sometimes, okay… but I’m not crazy.”
“Oh.” Her bright eyes filled with disappointment. “Funny. I never took you for a coward, Adam Ross.”
Low blow. And now, of course, he had no choice.
Adam accepted his doom with a sigh. If his face could move right now, he felt sure that it would be wearing a troubled expression.
“What game?” he asked her quietly. The clouds became tendrils. Adam watched them creep away and wished that he could go with them…
“Oh – I don’t know.” Lindsay’s tone was carefree. Adam wasn’t fooled. “How about… Truth or Dare?”
“Truth or Dare? At a crime scene?” Adam’s mouth fell open in surprise.
“Why not? We’ve got a few minutes before we can do our job. These guys…” She indicated the struggling crew. “They’re not going anywhere just yet.”
It was true. Four numb pairs of hands had failed to keep their grasp on the slippery body. It hit the ground and lay there in an awkward heap. Four pairs of eyes looked shifty. Sheldon groaned.
Adam scanned around for Mac or Detective Flack. They were down at the other end of the alleyway, talking to the only man who had witnessed the fatal mugging and actually bothered to call for help.
“Okay,” he said reluctantly. “Who goes first?”
“You, of course,” Lindsay told him. She was far too gleeful, he decided. “Truth or dare?”
Adam considered. Neither was a promising option – but which did she want him to take? That was the one he should try to avoid at all costs.
“Truth,” he mumbled, hoping for the best.
“Oh, really?” Lindsay folded her arms. “Very well, then. Answer me this, or take the forfeit. Did you really have a crush on Stella?”
Suddenly, cold was no longer the problem. Adam flushed to the roots of his hair. “How did you…? No, I mean… Dammit, Lindsay. That’s not fair.”
“Yes or no?” she asked him.
“Yes…” he breathed. If only she knew the rest…
Lindsay looked startled. Clearly, she hadn’t expected him to answer. Adam knew that he was not a subtle man. Emotions played across his face with embarrassing clarity when he was nervous. The whole lab had probably guessed how he felt. Lindsay was hoping for a forfeit. Well, he wouldn’t give it to her. Not that easily. He could be strong.
“My turn,” he said, swiftly moving on with the game. “Truth or dare?”
Now it was Lindsay’s turn to look uncomfortable. “Truth,” she said warily.
Good, Adam thought.
“Has Mac ever told you off for something? Thing is… well, I’ve never seen him do it, that’s all,” he added, by way of a stammering explanation. “And I just wondered… are you the only one?”
Lindsay smiled.
“He did,” she said, without hesitation. “And I deserved it. Danny and I were… having some problems. I walked out in the middle of what I was doing. Left the evidence out on the bench. Quinn – you remember her? – she saw it and reported me to Mac.”
“Oh!” Adam bit his lip. “Sorry, Lindsay. That was rude of me. Was he… did he shout at you?” Ducking his head for a moment, he recalled the worst of Mac’s tirades that had haunted him through the years.
“Not really. He waited for me to explain myself. Actually, he was kind. More concerned about me, and what I was going through. He’s a good boss…” She tilted her head. “Don’t feel guilty, Adam. It’s a fair question, and a good one. Truth or dare?”
This game was far too dangerous. Time to get it over with as quickly as possible, Adam decided.
He stared her straight in the face. “Dare,” he said.
Oh yes. There it was. The look of triumph that he had been waiting for.
“Throw a snowball at Detective Flack,” she told him steadily.
“I… what?” His eyes were saucers.
“Look – he’s coming closer. And there’s plenty of snow. He’s got a good sense of humour – he won’t mind. A snowball – quickly!”
Wondering if he had actually taken leave of his senses, or slipped into some kind of living nightmare, Adam bent down and rolled a messy ball with his shaking fingers. He squashed it in his palms, wincing as the cold sliced through his bare skin. Then he rose to his feet.
Flack stood a little way off, writing notes in his case book. He was lost in thought. I can do this, Adam told himself firmly.
No I can’t…
“What if I don’t…?”
“Then you’re mine. For a whole day. Anything I ask, you’ll have to obey.”
Adam knew how that would go. Lindsay’s revenge was a fearsome one. Just do it, he sighed. Like ripping off a band-aid. A moment of pain, then it’s over – I hope.
And he flung the ball as hard as he could in Detective Flack’s direction.
Lindsay gasped. Adam drew back in absolute horror.
Mac Taylor sauntered past Don – and the snowball sailed directly at his face. He was far too startled to duck. With a muffled thud, it hit him on the cheek and burst into slushy fragments. Rubbing his eyes, Mac wiped the snow away and sought the culprit who had thrown the offending article.
Lindsay chuckled, and turned…
… but Adam was nowhere in sight.
And now Mac was bearing down on her with grim intent. Behind him, Don’s face was a picture – mirth and disbelief, in equal amounts.
“Game over,” Adam whispered to himself from the safety of the Avalanche.
Did I win…?
