So, Mac Taylor walks into a bar and...

[clocketpatch]

My contribution to the walk-into-a-bar ficathon. I apologize for my bad accents, my bad characterization, and, well, this in general. It very clearly sucks on multiple levels.

Title: Conflict Resolution
Your prompt: Mac Taylor walks into a bar and meets Annie Cartwright
Fandoms: CSI NY and Life on Mars (UK)
Characters/pairings: Mac Taylor meets Annie Cartwright
Rating/warnings: Well, it hasn't been beta'd or britpicked, but other that it's safe for the kiddies to read.
Word count: 1243






Mac Taylor sat at the serving counter sipping black coffee and nursing his jet leg. It was a nice enough establishment, the kind of pub families went to during the day and not-too-rowdy drinkers attended at night. There were some good quiet booths near the back which probably would have been kinder on his headache but would have obstructed his view.

It wasn't just the years as a Marine or his time on the force – Mac had a near instinctual need to watch people, to monitor them and keep the peace if need be, even if he didn't have any real authority this side of the pond.

His eye was on a group of early drinkers. It was fifteen to six and the alcohol was flowing in moderation, but that group at the end didn't look like the usual crowd for this sort of place. Not that Mac would know, really, it was his first time here. But they had a bit of a rough look and were younger than most of the evening patrons. They hadn't greeted the barkeep either. Not regulars.

Mac ideally swirled his coffee before taking another sip. It wasn't particularly good, but it would do. The  nine to five conference had been brutal after the eight hour flight – twelve hours after customs and registrations and the inevitable traffic delaying the cab ride from the airport, then the crush on the tube. Tomorrow would be more of the same lectures and pictures and endless discussions on procedures.

It wasn't like he didn't enjoy it. It was a meeting of the best minds in the field. A transatlantic CSI training session. The new techniques he brought back to New York would indubitably solve cases and keep murders off the streets, but –

He missed his team. He missed his office. And he couldn't shake the feeling that something bad would happen while he was away from the nest.

"Well, you look a bit like shite," said a rough female voice.

Mac had registered someone sitting down in the stool next to him. Now he looked up to see an older woman with skunk-streaked hair and a knowing smile.

"Officer Cartwright," Mac said, tipping his mug towards her. "I was at your lecture on the development of procedure over the past thirty years. It was very informative."

"Annie," the woman said. "We're not working either of us, so call me Annie."

"Annie," said Mac. He took a sip, examining her over the rim, then he set the mug down on the scuffed but clean bar. "You can call me Mac."

"From New York?" asked Annie.

"One and the same."

"It's a bit of a trip," she said. She hesitated. "My husband and I were planning on it back in the late seventies, a bit of fun to get away from it all, but, well, life. We never could get away. Not that it was all bad. It's good work, being a copper."

"You married in the force?" asked Mac.

"Aye, I know. It's the cardinal rule – don't have sex with your coworkers and never, never have sex with your boss. Unless you're looking for a promotion is, but then, I got that as well. It was a different time."

"Indeed," said Mac, looking over her shoulder to the group at the end of the bar. They were getting increasingly rowdy, but they seemed to be mostly minding their own business. "As I said, your lecture, the things they were doing in your department back in the 70s – no one was doing real forensics back then, or using psychological criminal profiling bases in real science. The advances in the field we have thanks to your work."

"None of my work," said Anne. "That was all Sam, my husband, he was a bit, well. I suppose I should have listened to him a bit closer." She stopped talking suddenly and laughed. "All this nattering. I haven't bought a drink yet. I'll be tossed out on the street if I don't."

She ordered and received a pint of dark beer. She drank it in a long swig that belayed her age and rank. Mac put her at late fifties, early sixties based on her appearance and the dates she'd given in lecture.

"You never forget the old ways," Annie said, wiping off foam politely with a napkin. "The nights we'd just spend drinking. Departments don't bond like that now. It's strictly a day job – then, at night, we all go back to our lives. Back in the day it was your life. Completely."

"Still is in New York," said Mac.

"You're worried about them?" said Annie.

"Of course I am. Any time I leave they get into trouble. I'd trust them with my life, but I don't trust them not to get themselves killed, or too ruin the evidence."

"It's what you do with family," said Annie. Again she paused. "I hope you don't think it's terribly foreword, but I'm an old widow and I like to hear about other people's home lives. It's probably my way of compensating."

"I'm a disappointment then, all around," said Mac.

"Never married?"

"No. It was 911."

"Oh," Annie said, pulling up startled. Mac sensed the apology before it came, the sudden wall.

"What's passed is passed," he said, sighing deeply. "Some days it hurts just like yesterday, but it's been nearly five years. You have to move on, to hold their memory fresh and live every day as a tribute." He fiddled with his mug. Annie was still looking at him funny, all intense. Then she turned away real quick.

"I should've listened better," she murmured.

"You didn't miss any cues," said Mac, pulling the ring out of his pocket.

"No," said Annie. "It's not… My Sam, he used to say. We always wanted to go to New York, but he'd say, not that day, never that day. I should have listened better. He could have changed the world and instead –" She cut off. "A bit too much to drink. I keep forgetting I'm not as young as I used to be."

Before she could continue, or Mac could analyse her strange behaviour, the group at the end of the bar erupted into a fist fight. He didn't have jurisdiction this side of the pond, but instinct wouldn't let him stay in his chair when blows were flying. Annie seemed to be similarly inclined. Mac saw the flash of a knife and dived, wrestling the punk to the floor.

A few minutes later the on-duty officers came and the brawlers were led away.

"What a life eh?" said Annie, taking a sip off a fresh, on-the-house pint.

Mac paid the bar tender for his coffee.

"Leaving already?" Annie asked, her hand reaching for his.

"It's been a long day."

"Stay…?"

Her hand slipped out of his as Mac pulled away. "It's not…" he said, never a man for emotion.

"I understand," said Annie.

"He looks like he could use a bit of company," said Mac, nodding at another conference member who'd just come into the pub, blinking in the dim, electric light. He was an average looking man in hi early thirties. The tag he still wore on his lapel identified him as D.I. Tyler.

"I'm sure he could," said Annie, turning back to her drink. "But that's not for me."

"Too young?" said Mac.

"Aye." She swallowed.

"Well, see you tomorrow then," said Mac.

He didn't.

Comments

[thisbluespirit]

Very interesting! I liked it, although I can see why you were a bit uncertain about colloquialisms and so on. But interesting. Of ocurse, I don't know the cross properly, either, which doesn't help. But, yes, interesting...

[clocketpatch]

Truth to tell, I don't know the cross properly either. This is my first time really writing for it, but I figured I'd seen enough of the source material to give it a go. No idea what happens in Ashes to Ashes though, so probably this is all terribly AU.

[thisbluespirit]

Well, that was very brave all round. It read to me as if you did, but that was my ignorance or your expertise re blagging, then. ;-)

Well, the next series (Friday!!! Sorry, don't be too healous, :lol:) they're promising to give us some answers, but this is pretty much in line with what we know about Sam in Ashes, that he married Annie and died a few years after. If, of course, this whole thing isn't somebody's collective fantasy. :-D

When you get to see Ashes, whatever you think of ep 1, whether you think it's awesome, or rubbish, or you're missing Sam, you have to watch the whole thing, because when it comes full circle in the last ep, it's one of the most stunning conclusions of anything I've seen. I'm not sure quite why I find it so impressive, and obviously won't spoiler you, but I think you'll like it, too.