Hand on You

By: ioanhoratio

A/N I've been rather absent from the world of fan fiction recently thanks to real life getting even crazier than normal, but with the lack of DL on the show I've been desperate for something, especially because I was so upset that there was NO moment in last night's episode where Danny got the sh*t beat out of him! So I wrote this, trying to get my DL fix. This is dedicated to all the authors who have been trying desperately to fill the void left by the show. You guys have been my saving grace. This story is pretty much a fluff piece, but I hope you enjoy. Also, I didn't really edit this at all. So I'm sorry for the typos and errors. I wish I had more time to spend on it, but between work, family, getting the episode reviews done for DLchem, and the holidays, I'm running out of daylight faster than I can deal with! ^_^

Danny Messer wearily pushed the apartment door open, his body screaming in protest. Every muscle ached, and he meant every muscle. He was exhausted, and his lip throbbed. It had been a while since he'd gotten the crap beat out of himself, but he'd managed to do it today. The adrenaline that had been pumping through his body from the moment the first shot had been fired had driven common sense from his mind and his immediate response was to jump on the giant, angry man who was wailing of Flack. Of course, he'd been tossed aside like a used rag, and now he hurt. His head was pounding and he was seriously wondering if he had any pain medication left from his days of tough physical therapy-he didn't care how far past the expiration date the pill probably were.

All he wanted was some dinner, a beer, maybe some pampering from his girls and quiet night nursing his wounds.

"Lucy Messer!" he heard shouted from the bathroom.

Danny dropped his bag by the door, just in time to see a small blur of pink and purple run past him, and dive behind the couch.

Lindsay stormed into the living room, barely sparing him a glance. "Lucy, you get out here right now, little miss," she demanded, her tone tight and frustrated.

"What's goin' on?" Danny asked, fearing the answer.

Lindsay turned to him, her gaze glacial. "What's going on," she grounded out slowly, "is that your daughter went into the bathroom and took off her pull up. Which she knows she's not supposed to do."

"You're mad 'cause she's runnin' around half naked?" Danny asked, incredulously. It was not uncommon for two year old Lucy Messer to strip down to nothing and run or dance around the apartment, laughing. Danny would be more concerned if he didn't find it so hilarious. Sure, they had to keep a close eye on her or else she'd wind up peeing on the floor, but he loved how inhibited she was, how innocent. He knew she'd grow out of it one day so he and Lindsay didn't worry, which is why he was surprised by her reaction.

"Oh, did I forget to mention it was full of poop?" Lindsay asked sarcastically, obviously irritated by his dumb question, "Silly me. And did I forget to mention that she stepped in it before running around the apartment?"

Danny cringed visibly. Lindsay raised a knowing eyebrow at him and waited.

With a sigh, Danny called, "Lucy, get out here right now."

Hearing the authoritative tone her father's voice, Lucy slowly stepped out from behind the couch. Her eyes were large and round, her face set with a sad frown, her bottom lip stuck out. She wore a purple shirt with a large pink and white butterfly decorating the front, and nothing else, though Danny could tell there were streaks of brown on the skin of her legs and toes.

"Oh, baby girl," he groaned, the image of a relaxing evening being flushed down the toilet in his mind. "Why did you do that? You know you aren't supposed ta take off your pull up without tellin' Mommy or Daddy first."

"I sorr-ee," Lucy wailed. "I a big girl now. I go potty by'self."

"Yes, you are a big girl," Lindsay agreed, trying to keep her temper out of her voice, "but we have rules and you broke the rules and now there is a big mess."

"But I a big girl," Lucy again argued, her voice rising.

"Watch it," Danny warned firmly. The one thing he never tolerated was Lucy yelling at Lindsay. "Or you'll be spending the next few minutes in time out. You should probably head over there now, for takin' your pull up off."

Lucy began crying in earnest. "No time out!"

"She can't go to time out Danny," Lindsay said over the noise, "She'll sit down and get poop every where."

Danny felt the pain in his head spread to his eyes, and his lip stung from being used. He could feel his own levels of discontent rise and he snapped, "Fine. Then what do you want to do?"

If looks could kill, then Lindsay would have needed a license for her face. She seemed to go to say something, then changed her mind, instead she asked, "Her or the apartment?"

Confused by her question, Danny furrowed his brow. "'Scuse me?"

"Do you want to clean her up or the apartment?" Lindsay asked, her to voice clipped.

The muscles in his body revolted at the idea of crawling around scrubbing the floor, and who knew what else. Not to mention the strained look on Lindsay's face, clearly communicating her exasperation with their daughter. "Her," he answered simply.

Without another word Lindsay turned and walked away, heading into the kitchen to grab some cleaning supplies. Lucy's tears had tapered off, and she stood before him with a red face.

"Come 'er, baby girl," Danny said gently as he lifted her up using her arm pits. He held her out from him, not at all interested in getting himself dirty. Lucy giggled at the funny way her father was holding her. Despite the situation Danny couldn't help the goofy smile that spread over his face at the sound, though he quickly schooled his features. Lucy didn't need any encouragement in this department.

He lugged her down the hallway towards the big bathroom, making a squished face as they passed the half bath, where an offensive smell was emanating. He could see tiny brown foot prints grounded into the carpet, and knew he was getting the better end of the deal. Lindsay was going to be doing some serious scrubbing.

As Danny stood Lucy in the tub, and peeled off her shirt, he couldn't help but wonder what Don was doing right that moment. He'd probably stumbled home, grabbed an ice cold beer, sat down on the couch, and zonked out. 'The bastard,' Danny thought, as he bent over to turn the water on, causing the muscles in his back to spasm.

With a barely suppressed groan, Danny knelt down next to the tub so he could clean his daughter up. Lucy reached for her bath toys, but Danny shook his head. "No Lucy. This isn't play time. I have to get the poop off you, and then I'm getting you out of the water."

"P'ay toys," Lucy insisted.

"No play toys," Danny asserted, snatching Lucy's baby wash and squirting a little into a wash rag.

"I p'ay toys!" Lucy cried, her face crumpling into renewed tears. Her temper tantrum appearing with fervor.

Understanding began to dawn, and Danny realized the true source of Lindsay's frustrations. Their normally sweet and amiable daughter usually only turned into a holy terror when she skipped her nap, and Danny would wager money that had happened today. If Lucy had been this whiney and disagreeable all night, no wonder Lindsay was at her wits end.

Simply choosing to ignore his child's outburst, Danny set to wiping off her skin as quickly and efficiently as possible. Lucy refused to make it easy on him, squirming around and fussing in his ear at a rather high decibel level. At one point Lucy's flailing arm made contact with Danny's lip and white hot pain shot through him, blinding him momentarily as his eyes filled with water.

"Son of a bi..." Danny breathed out, catching himself at the last moment. He had immediately released Lucy from his grip and pushed away from the bath waiting for his vision to clear.

Lucy, having felt the change in her father's demeanor, simply stared up at him silently.

"Wow, that really hurt Luce," Danny told her.

"I sorr-ee Daddy," Lucy cried, her tears now ones of contrition. She reached for him and little fingers moving back and forth in urgency.

Danny scooped her wet little body into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest. He grabbed a towel and draped it over her body, tucking it in to keep her from getting cold. She dropped her head to his shoulder and continued to cry.

Danny rolled his eyes at his reflection in the bath mirror. His toddler was quite the drama queen when she was tired. "It's ok, Lucy girl," he assured her, rubbing her back.

Lucy lifted her head and gazed at her father, seeing his injured face for the first time that night. Her small hands came up and cupped his cheeks. "Daddy, ow-ee?"

"Yeah, Daddy got an owee," he told her, their faces only inches apart.

"Kiss it?" Lucy asked him, and without waiting for a response leaned in and place a soft baby kiss against his lip.

Danny felt a bit of his tension drain away as Lucy gently patted on hand against his cheek. "I make it all bedder?" she asked seriously, her belief in the healing power of a kiss being very strong.

"Almost," Danny answered with as big a smile as his lip would allow, "but I think I need a hug too."

Lucy didn't hesitate to wrap her arms around his neck and squeeze as tightly as her body would allow. They stood that way for a moment, swaying gently, Danny refusing to be the first one to let go. Finally her hold loosened, but her head never left it's resting place on his shoulder.

Danny angled his body around so he could see Lucy's face in the mirror and saw his daughter's heavy, droopy eyelids. Still holding her tightly, he leaned down to drain the tub-refusing to acknowledge the burning in his limbs- then stepped out into the hallway. He spotted Lindsay's feet poking out from the bathroom. As he expected, he found her on her hands and knees doing her best to clean up the mess left by their daughter.

"Linds," he called softly, trying to get her attention without stirring Lucy's resting.

Lindsay turned her head back to look at him.

"She's eaten dinner, right?" he asked.

Lindsay nodded.

"Then I'm gonna put 'er to bed. She's about to fall asleep on me."

Lindsay dropped her scrub brush into the bucket of soapy water and stood. She wiped her hands on a towel then leaned into her daughter, giving her kiss on the cheek.

"Night, Lucy. I love you," she told her daughter, stroking her hair away from her face.

"Wuv you, Mommy," Lucy answered with a sleepy sigh.

Danny the carried Lucy into her room, made quick work of dressing her and tucking her into bed. He grabbed a book, but barely got two pages into the story before Lucy was fast asleep. He pulled his bruised body up, and made his way back to his wife.

She had moved into the hallway now, still scrubbing.

"I'll grab a rag an' help ya," he offered, but Lindsay shook her head.

"Don't worry about it. I'm on a roll now," She told him, "Go get a shower. I know you've got to be sore."

Danny felt relief flood his body, but he still asked, "Ya sure?"

"Yeah, Go," Lindsay commanded.

This time Danny didn't wait. He headed straight for the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later he was stepping out of the shower, his body feeling better after the constant spray of hot water against his muscles. He grinned at the sweat pants and t-shirt Lindsay had snuck in and left sitting on the sink for him.

He gingerly dressed, pulling the fabric over his beaten body, then made his way out to the living room. There was no sign of his wife, but plenty of dark, wet patches of carpet for him to avoid. He weaved around them and finally collapsed on the couch.

He started when he felt a hand against his face. "Damn, Lindsay," he breathed, "why you sneakin' up on me?"

She gave him a bemused smile as she sat down next to him offering him an ice pack. "I didn't. That's just how tired you are. I'm fairly certain you were a sleep just now."

Danny didn't respond, he just accepted the ice pack, and tentatively pressed it against his swollen lip.

"How you feeling?" Lindsay asked him in concern.

Danny just shrugged.

"That good huh?" Lindsay laughed. That shrug was tantamount to a cry of pain from anyone else.

"The guy deserved it Linds," he defended. "He hit her, he beat that woman to a pulp."

"I know," Lindsay agreed sadly.

"She was someone's daughter, and he beat her up like she was his property. A thing he could control," Danny said.

Lindsay said nothing, just ran her fingers through his hair and looked at him with the same look he'd seen on Lucy's face. The look of complete devotion.

They sat in the quiet for a moment, each lost in thought.

"I think gettin' the crap beat outta me was a lot easier when I was single an' childless," Danny observed wryly.

Lindsay chuckled. "It probably was."

"But," Danny continued slyly, "I didn't have you and Lucy to kiss it better."

"Oh, is that right?" Lindsay joked, "Well, I don't think I've had my turn with the patient."

Danny lowered the ice pack, clearly offering.

Lindsay stretched up and pressed a slow, lingering kiss against the good side of Danny's lips.

"Better?" she asked.

"Yeah," Danny smirked, "But I think I need one here too." He pointed to the bruise that was forming on his cheek bone. Lindsay obediently kiss the spot.

"And here," he said, pulling his shirt up to reveal his aching ribs.

Lindsay laughed, but did as her patient requested. "Any where else need kissing?" she asked, faking exasperation.

"I can think of a few places," he teased, then winced as a muscle in his back cramped.

Lindsay shook her head at him, but smiling, said, "I think the patient needs strick bed rest and some Tylenol." She stood and offered her hand.

Danny allowed her to pull him to his feet, and lead him to their bedroom, knowing he was going to be well cared for by his wife. It might have been easier to play the hero when he was alone, but this way was much better, no matter how much harder it was.

The End

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