Raining On Sunday
Summary: Baby whatever comes Monday, can take care of itself, cause we got better things that we can do, when it's rainin' on Sunday... -Keith Urban
A/N: It's been raining off and on all day, it's Sunday, and I really love Keith Urban. I wanted to write a peaceful fic, cause that damn finale is haunting me. So, this whole storyline just kind of evolved from that.
Dedication: Rachel. Cause half of my work wouldn't make it to publishing if it weren't for her.
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don't own it.
Spring had been hard on all of them, so they welcomed the July heat and booming storms with open arms. He'd gotten off work at three am; he wearily pulled on his jacket and slung his bag over his shoulder before leaving the lab. The July night was dark and clouds covered the moon. Heat lightening filled the sky and the static electricity made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
His shoulder ached as he waited on the subway; his wounds from the shoot out had healed, but the storms brought the tiniest of aches, the piercing pain of reality. The weary traveler just wanted to get home. He boarded the subway and took a seat away from the few other people who were still out and about. His head rested against the plexi-glass and he waited for it to reach his stop.
He emerged from the steps of the station as the thunder clapped and the clouds broke open. The water poured and soaked him to the bone. He increased his speed -almost jogging, he just wanted to get home. Finally, he reached his apartment building, letting himself in and sprinting up the four flights of stairs. He let himself in quietly, hoping he wouldn't wake them. He toed off his shoes and jacket by the door and moved quietly through the dark hallway.
Slowly, he swung open the bedroom door and smiled at the sight before him. She was propped up on her side, her chin in the palm of her hand and the other rubbing their baby girl's stomach, "Ssh. It's okay. Mama's got you."
"Montana." He cleared his throat and grinned at her.
"Danny." She breathed and smiled back.
"What's wrong with Luce?" Danny asked, pulling his shirt over his head and digging through his drawer for a pair of sweats.
"The thunder woke her up and the lightening enduced a screaming fit." Lindsay explained and tucked a curly brown lock behind her ear. In the hecticness of everything that had went down and the life that now revovled around their newborn, there was little time for Lindsay to get her hair done.
Danny, now clad in a pair of grey sweatpants, lay down on top the covers on the other side of Lucy. Her tiny hand enclosed one of his fingers and he pressed a kiss to her nose, "Nothin' to be scared of Lucy Girl, Daddy's here." He whispered.
Lindsay smiled, "That proves it. Didn't have nothin' to do with the storm, she just wanted her daddy."
"Damn straight." Danny chuckled and smoothed Lucy's light blond hair.
"How's your shoulder?" Lindsay's brown eyes filled with sorrow as she glanced at his shoulder.
"It's fine." Danny shrugged. He'd caught a bullet in his right shoulder when he'd thrown Lindsay to the ground and Lindsay somehow felt guilty about it all.
"Okay." Lindsay whispered, "We missed you today."
"I missed you both." Danny leaned across the baby and kissed her lightly.
"How was work?"
"I'm glad to be home." Danny told her honestly.
"You should sleep." Lindsay whispered.
"You should sleep too. She's tough work." Danny chuckled.
"But totally worth it." Lindsay smiled down at her daughter.
"Totally." Danny agreed.
The thunderboomed outside and Lucy whimpered. Danny picked her up and laid her on his chest. The little girl settled instantly and Danny grinned, "That's my girl."
Lindsay chuckled and curled up against her husband, "I love you. Both of you."
"I love you both too."
We pray
that it's rainin' on Sunday
Stormin' like crazy...
A/N: There. Now I feel better about those stupid spoilers and less like I'll have to lynch the TPTB -don't they know, no one messes with the Messers? geesh. Leave some love, please?
