Prompt: argument

Don couldn't remember not being friends with Danny Messer. Usually that only happened with lifelong, childhood friends, but somehow Danny had become one of those in the few short years they knew each other.

Danny was the person he went to when things went wrong. He came and played hours of Go Fish and War and freaking Travel Scrabble when he'd had his gut blown open. He smacked him when he got down on himself, and didn't let him wallow in the cases that went bad. He was his drinking buddy, his confidant, as girly as it might sound.

And it was the same way in reverse, which was why Don was the one and probably only person that knew the real reason Lindsay wasn't talking to Danny.

"How could you do that?" Don said, feeling his face heat in anger. He knew he should listen, that he should hear his friend out. He knew he should be on his side that he should help him, but all he could do was get fucking pissed. Danny had the real thing, capital R capital T and he'd fucked it up.

"I don't know. I was completely fucked and now…she won't even talk to me, Don. What do I do? How do I get her back?"

"Who else knows about this?" Don said, not sure how to answer Danny's question.

Danny shook his head, "No one. Lindsay hasn't told anyone I don't think."

Don shook his head, "She's protecting you, wants to make sure the people you work with don't know you're a cheater."

"I'm not a cheater," Danny yelled, "It was a mistake; I fucked up once, just once."

Don sighed, "Have you stopped to think about Lindsay at all? You want her back, you fucked up, she has no one to talk to, no one to confide in and all you're worried about it you." Don stood, throwing money on the bar, "I can't talk about this with you right now, Danny, I just…" he shook his head, "I never thought you'd sink this low."

&&&&&&

He doesn't realize where he's going until he's almost in front of Lindsay's apartment. When he gets there, he stands and wonders if he should buzz her. He and Lindsay, well they're friends, of course, but he knows she'd probably much rather have Stella to talk to in this situation.

Still, she doesn't have Stella to talk to, she doesn't have anyone, and all he can think of is her face that day that Danny was missing. She looked so afraid for him, so clearly in love with him and the rage he felt wells up again and he buzzes her.

She's in a giant sweatshirt and pajama pants when the door opens and he suddenly has no idea what to say to her. Finally, he just goes for the truth.

"Danny told me."

She blinks at him, "told you what?"

He looks at her, waits a beat before he says, "What he did."

Lindsay sighs, and then steps back to let him inside. She looks so tiny in those giant clothes, like a doll that's one hard squeeze away from breaking.

"So, Danny told you," she repeated as they sat on her couch, "Why are you here?"

He shrugged, "I don't really know. He said, he told me you hadn't told anyone else."

She looks away, "We all work together and…"

"I think that's really amazing of you," he interrupts, "that even after he…that you still want to be professional, not change people's opinion of him.

She nods, "That's me…amazing."

He looks away, then back at her, "I guess I just wanted to see if there way anything I could do. If you wanted to talk, or I could go buy ice cream. We could get drunk together."

Lindsay is silent for a moment then looks up at him, eyes sad and lost, "Want to have revenge sex with me?"

Don's eyes widen and he rears back a little, "Uh, Linds, you're hot and all, but Danny's my best friend and…" he stops when she breaks out laughing, "That's mean."

"I'm sorry," she said, "I wasn't trying to be mean. I actually meant if for a second there. I've been thinking about it, you know, going out and sleeping with some random guy and, I don't know, taking pictures to show Danny or something. God, that makes me sound so pathetic."

"No," Don said, coming closer again, "No, its okay to be upset Lindsay. It's okay to be hurt or angry or whatever you need to be. Whatever you need to get through it."

She looked up at him, her eyes are filled with tears to the point he doesn't know how she's holding them in, "I could really use something Don."

"Name it."

"A hug," she says, but the word comes out as a squeak.

He sighs and reaches for her, pulling her against him, "Well, a hug I can do. That's easy."

She smiles a little against his chest and then lets the tears out as he rocks her ever so slightly.

"Thanks, Don," she warbles out between sobs.

"Hey, what are friends for, right?" he kisses her head and pulls her closer, giving her the only thing he can, his shoulder to lean on.