"Michael Cafferty?" Flack called. A man in a shabby hoodie sprinted toward an alley. Flack cursed, briefly exchanged looks with his companion, and took off after the man. This wasn't his first chase of the week and it was only Monday afternoon.
Cafferty briefly turned his head to see how close his pursuer was, so he never saw the tackle coming. He collapsed to the ground with 120 pounds of detective muscle sitting on top of him.
"Nice collar," Flack remarked. "Where you'd learn how to tackle like that?"
"Powderpuff football," Lindsay replied with a grin as she cuffed the groaning man beneath her. With assistance from Flack, Cafferty was hauled to his feet. The detectives took positions on each side of the man and headed back to Flack's car. As they passed a sidewalk cafe, a brawl erupted between two patrons. Tables were overturned and beverages were sent flying. Flack, on the far side of Cafferty, merely caught a few drops on his precisely slicked hair, while Lindsay was drenched with a mixture of coffee, water, iced tea, and soda.
The trio paused. Flack chuckled at her as Lindsay groaned, determining the extent of the damage. "I just got this shirt," Lindsay muttered.
"Hey, what about me?" Cafferty whined.
"Oh, grow up, big man," Flack retorted. He pulled out his radio and requested officers to be sent to the location. Several minutes later, the brawlers were restrained and placed into separate cars for questioning. Flack summoned a late-arriving officer and handed over Cafferty with instructions to take him to the precinct to await interrogation.
"I'm not letting you in my car like that," Don remarked as he and Lindsay started walking.
"You gonna try to make me walk back to the lab, Flack?" Lindsay challenged.
Don chuckled. "No way. I'm not stupid. My apartment's just a few blocks away. I'm sure we can find something for you to borrow."
Lindsay studied her reflection in the full-length mirror in Don's bedroom. She was certainly a sight.
The dress shirt she'd borrowed reached mid-thigh and the sleeves extended inches beyond her fingertips. She quickly rolled the sleeves and retrieved the belt from her own outfit. Wrapping it around her waist, she deemed herself decent enough to return to work. Throwing her stained, but hopefully not ruined, belongings into a plastic bag, she left the bedroom.
In between chemical analysis and database searches and paperwork, Lindsay took a few moments to appreciate the scent that clung to Don's shirt. She had always loved cologne and Don's was excellent.
"Montana, what are you doing?" Danny demanded, entering and seeing her sniffing her collar.
Lindsay jumped.
"More importantly, what are you wearing?" Danny narrowed his eyes. "Is that Flack's shirt?"
"Yeah," Lindsay admitted. "We went to his place for a quickie after we chased down Cafferty. What, you jealous, Messer?"
Danny's expression was priceless—a mix of jealousy, disbelief, and shock.
Lindsay laughed. "You are so easy, Messer. I was the unfortunate victim of a spill as we were taking Cafferty to the car. Don let me borrow his shirt so I didn't ruin his car and have to spend the day in sopping wet clothes."
"Right," Danny replied with a measure of incredulity.
Lindsay smiled to herself as Danny exited. Maybe he'd finally ask her out now that he thought he had some competition...
A/N: Just a brief little drabble. This is in no way intended to be a Don/Lindsay ship, I support Danny/Lindsay wholeheartedly and have since 2005. This would be set before Danny asked Lindsay out to dinner and was stood up. Lindsay doesn't realize she's not ready yet. Do they play powderpuff football in New York? It's definitely a thing in small-town Minnesota.