Title: Though Lovers Be Parted
Author: Marianne H. Stillie
Categories: Romance, Angst
Rating: T
Pairing: Danny & Lindsay
Season: Seasons 4 and 5
Summary: Love no longer holds any barriers or boundaries for Danny and Lindsay.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and places for CSI: NY are the property of Jerry Bruckheimer Television, Alliance Atlantis and CBS Paramount Television. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment, not monetary purposes and no infringement on copyrights or trademarks are intended. Previously unrecognized characters, places and this story are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Archive: Please do not archive anywhere without the author's permission.
Copyright (c) 2008 Marianne H. Stillie
Author's Note: The first story I write for a new pairing in a new fandom is always special. The idea for this first DL story started as a simple fluff piece then took on a totally different life of its own. I don't know where TPTB of CSI: NY will be taking this wonderful couple in canon in the seasons ahead. Hopefully, it will be in the same direction as this story.
Though Lovers Be Parted
October 2007
The evening show movie theater crowd poured out onto the Manhattan sidewalk. An autumn chill had transformed the warm Indian summer daylight just enough to make the movie-goers walk a little faster to catch subways and buses.
Lindsay knew she didn't have to clutch Danny's arm so tightly as they walked. She was safe in this familiar neighborhood only blocks from the building where he lived. She did it for one simple reason. Since he'd almost been killed in that Brooklyn warehouse where the drug bust had gone down only weeks ago, she needed to feel him close whenever and wherever possible.
The acute spot of fear she'd discovered that day had taken her by surprise. There was always an edge of concern among all the team members. The professionalism they practiced so carefully kept the human emotions in balance most of the time, day to day, and case to case. Since she and Danny had become lovers, the fear of loss had become very personal between them. But it was one of the things they didn't talk about. If either had acknowledged it out loud, they wouldn't be able to do their jobs, separately or together.
Tightening her hands around his arm, she snuggled her body closer against his hip. "Thanks for sitting through "3:10 To Yuma", Danny. I know cowboy movies aren't your favorite."
Laughing, he said, "You just like to see if those Hollywood types get the western stuff right."
"Yup. Next movie is your choice, I promise."
"Good. We can spend a nice cozy evening on the couch watchin the DVD of my favorite chick flick "When Harry Met Sally"."
It was Lindsay's turn to laugh. "Why do you like that movie so much?"
"Since hooking up with you, Montana, I'm really tryin to get more in touch with my feminine side," he said in his best mock-serious voice. "That movie reminds me how high maintenance the old Danny Messer's always been."
"The new Danny Messer is doing pretty well," she said sweetly.
"Does that mean you're gonna spend the night?" he asked eagerly.
"Maybe."
Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, Danny looked down at Lindsay, a hurt expression on his face. "You're really cruel, Linds. Here I am bein charming and considerate, and you're breakin my stones. What do I have to do to get you into my cold, lonely bed for the night?"
She recognized the wounded look her tough city guy was so good at. Letting out a giggle, she answered, "Feed me."
Danny's scowl changed to a big grin. "How about cannoli croissants from Sullivan's Café?"
Reaching up and taking his face between her hands, Lindsay said, "Throw in a bag of freshly ground chocolate raspberry coffee for breakfast, and I'll make this a night to remember for you, Messer."
The passionate kiss came easily, right behind their laugher. Being New York, the people on the street just ignored them.
They covered the blocks quickly then stopped in front of the brightly lit pastry shop.
His hand on the door, Danny turned to Lindsay. "Make sure you don't say anything about baseball. Okay?"
"Mattie's still pissed about the Yankees losing the AL East title to the Red Sox, huh?"
"Last time I was in here, he was arguing with a delivery guy so loud, Maggie had to break it up. I thought he was gonna have a stroke. He may be a tough old South Bronx Irishman, but Mattie's no spring chicken anymore."
"No baseball," Lindsay assured him as she helped him push open the door.
She'd been with the NYPD CSI unit for two years, but Danny still had the edge when it came to reacting to danger. The sight of a man holding a pistol on Mattie as he emptied the cash register was just sinking in for her when Danny's muscular arm forcefully pushed her behind him. This was his turf so she let him do the talking.
"I suggest you put that gun down. You don't wanna hurt anyone, so just take the money and head out."
Lindsay took in the steadiness of Danny's voice and the petrified look in Maggie Sullivan's eyes as she glanced from her husband to the masked gunman. Mattie held out the white bakery bag he'd finished stuffing with the day's receipts. Despite his age and the danger he was in, his big hand was steady.
Standing stiffly behind Danny, Lindsay held her breath, anticipating that the robber would do as Danny had asked. When she saw a cold flicker of defiance in his slitted eyes, she knew what would come next.
The robber grabbed the bag, fired coolly at Mattie then fled out the door.
Maggie's scream echoed in her ears as Lindsay reached for her cell phone and dialed 911. As soon as the connection was made she barked into the mouthpiece, "This is Detective Lindsay Monroe! We need an ambulance at Sullivan's Café on West 76th! Gunshot victim! Armed robbery suspect is fleeing the scene on foot!"
Leaving the line open, she threw the cell on the counter and knelt down beside Danny. She knew every instinct in him wanted to rush out the door after the shooter. Instead he was beside Mattie's quivering body attempting to staunch the steady flow of blood coming from the older man's chest wound with his jacket.
"I need towels, Linds! All you can find! Hurry!"
Before Lindsay could get up, she felt a thick bundle of towels being pushed into her hands. As she gave them to Danny two at a time, she looked into Maggie's face. The fear was still there but the older woman had pulled herself together enough to know that their helpers needed her cooperation in order to save her husband's life.
"Hang in there, Mattie. There's always next year for the Bombers," Danny crooned through gritted teeth. His hands were freshly covered in blood as each layer of white towels became saturated.
Lindsay added another layer of towels to the ones under Danny's hands, hoping that pressure from her hands would make a difference.
A two-man EMS team hurried through the door, quickly taking over from Danny and Lindsay.
"What were you guys, down the street?" Danny asked, watching anxiously as he wiped his hands on the last clean towel.
"Just about. Anyone else hurt?" the senior EMT asked tersely.
"No," Danny answered.
After wiping her hands on the towel Danny gave her, Lindsay went to Maggie who hovered close to her husband. "Mattie's in good hands," she said soothingly. The older woman grabbed her right hand and squeezed hard. Lindsay squeezed back, hoping they'd done enough.
Hospital waiting rooms were all alike. Not in looks. It was the play of human emotions within the solid walls that gave them their commonality.
Lindsay's head rested low on Danny's left shoulder as they sat close together, waiting for news about Mattie Sullivan's surgery. When they'd first settled into the armless chairs, she'd been able to hear her lover's heart still pounding heavily, fueled by the rush of adrenaline from the shooting. As the minutes slipped by, the rhythm settled into the calmer thumping she knew so well from their nights together. She found herself matching her breathing to the welcome sound of his always vibrant life force.
"Lindsay?"
His voice had come from deep in his chest. That low, soft sound always meant he had something on his mind. "Yes, Danny?"
"Do you remember the date on Maggie and Mattie's wedding picture that's hangin in the store?"
"April 16, 1966. Why?"
"They've been married forty-one years," he said wistfully. "Most couples don't make it anywhere near that anymore."
Marriage and the future were also topics they never discussed so she wasn't sure exactly how to respond to his comment. Settling on the most neutral thought she could find at that moment, she simply said, "It's just meant to be sometimes."
A light laugh escaped as he added, "A nice little Italian girl from Gravesend Brooklyn and a tall, lanky Irishman originally from 138th Street hooking up is actually crazier than you and me gettin together. What makes it so amazing is that, three kids and nine grandkids later, they're still in love."
Recalling the personal memorabilia displayed on the walls of the shop, Lindsay smiled. "Maggie tells some great stories about their life. Did you know Mattie proposed while they were stranded in Astoria during the 1966 subway strike?"
"Yeah, Mattie likes to tell that one too. They'd spent New Year's Eve at an Irish bar in the neighborhood where he and his buddies' families had moved. He's also never been ashamed to admit that Maggie is the creative brains behind the café. All those specialty items they're famous for are her recipes. He just keeps the books."
Laughing, Lindsay said, "I wish the parachute jump at Coney Island was still operating. Maggie told me it was one of their favorite things to do during the summer. That would be so much fun, Danny."
"The city's changed a lot since they were young," he lamented and kissed her softly on the top of her head.
"I hope I'm not interrupting," Mac Taylor said as he walked up to their chairs.
Looking at his watch, Danny said, "It's almost 3 a.m., Mac. What're you doin here?"
"When I'm notified that two of my key investigators have been part of a crime scene, I tend to worry. Both of you okay?"
"Yeah. Anything on the perp?" Danny asked.
"The precinct guys are combing the area. Nothing yet."
"I'd like to get into the store, Mac. See what clues I can find to identify this guy."
"You know better, Lindsay. I want you both to go home and get some sleep as soon as you're done here. When your heads are clear, get with the precinct detectives and give your statements."
Lindsay heard Danny's long exhale of breath as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. Mac's order to get some sleep sounded very good after the turbulent night they'd had.
Into the silence, Mac asked, "What exactly happened?"
"The usual – robber, gun, store owner shot," Danny said bitterly.
Taking Danny's hand in hers, she added, "It's ironic that this happened on a weekend. Mattie and Maggie are pretty well retired, and their kids run the store now. They cover on the weekends to give them a break, and to stay in touch with all the friends they've made over their twenty-five years in the neighborhood."
Thoughtfully, Mac suggested, "The robber may be someone from the area who knows how vulnerable they are. If so, he'll be easier to find."
"I hope so," Danny grunted.
"Danny!" Lindsay said urgently.
He followed her eyes down the hall to where a doctor in surgical scrubs had entered the waiting area. Tightening her hold on his hand, they both stood up.
Danny and Lindsay didn't need to hear the words being said to know why Maggie burst into tears. Her children quickly surrounded her, adding their tears to hers.
Into the fresh silence, Mac said comfortingly, "You both did all you could to save him."
His voice choking, Danny said, "Not enough." Without embarrassment, he went into Lindsay's arms.
Holding each other close, they let out their tears for a newly lost friend.
September 2008
The elevator to the thirty-fifth floor of the NYPD Crime Scene Investigation headquarters seemed to be moving in slow motion. Even so late in the afternoon, it was full, stopping at almost every floor.
Waking with a start from his too-brief catnap against the back wall of the elevator, Danny stepped into the bustling corridor. As he walked toward the office he shared with Lindsay, the kit he carried was weighing him down even more than his exhaustion. His third-watch shift had unexpectedly turned into a gruesome double shift when he'd been called to the scene of a domestic dispute that had devolved into a murder-suicide. The double shift would be well into a third by the time he'd finished processing all the evidence he carried.
In sight of their office, he saw Lindsay's sweep of short light brown hair in front of her computer screen. Smiling, he reminded himself to tell her again how much he liked her new hairdo. As he got closer, he could see her fingers flying across the keyboard as they always did when she was churning out her DD5s.
Unbidden, the crime scene flashed into his mind. Even after his seven years with the CSI lab, he wondered how love could turn into such a violent crime of passion between a man and a woman. Despite the bad things that had happened between them, he and Lindsay would never have physically hurt each other.
Pushing open the glass door, he let it close again behind him. Everyone knew they were a co-habiting couple, so they were very careful about open displays of affection at work. The knot in his gut from what he'd seen earlier twisted a little tighter. He very much needed to touch the woman he loved.
Danny glided his hand across Lindsay's shoulders as he murmured, "Hey, Montana."
Her fingers stopped moving on the keyboard and she leaned her head back against his arm. "Hey," she said tenderly.
He let his hand linger just a few seconds on the delicate skin of her neck, enjoying the warmth of her. The smile she gave him was radiant. Each time he was able to make her smile helped to mend another piece of the sadness he'd caused her. Taking a slow, deep breath, he put his case down beside his desk. Collapsing heavily into his chair, his eyes started to droop again from the lack of body motion.
"Thanks for the flowers, Danny," her voice intruded.
"Flowers?" he asked confused.
Pointing excitedly at the potted plant on her desk, Lindsay said, "The plant from the Brooklyn Botanic Garden that was delivered this morning."
Danny's sleepy eyes finally focused on the deep pink flowers covering the low green foliage in the foil-covered pot. "What is it?"
"Bitterroot, the state flower of Montana."
"Very nice. But it's not from me. You have a secret admirer I should be worried about?"
"Not that I know. Would you be jealous if I did?" she teased.
"Yes!" he answered emphatically. "I just got you back, Linds. I have enough dragons to slay out in the field. I don't need more." Realizing how badly his dark mood was spilling over, he said, "Sorry." Turning his attention to the stack of mail and report envelopes piled on his desk, he changed the subject, "Before you head home, would you get me some dinner from the deli downstairs, their pastrami special, patata salad and a cream soda? I'm gonna need it to get through the next few hours." When Lindsay didn't answer, he looked across the desks.
He didn't know what the annoyed look on her face meant until she spoke, "We haven't shared a bed in days, Messer. If processing crime scene evidence is the only way I can be close to you, I'll take what I can get."
Danny was still amazed at how much Lindsay always wanted him. Their reconciliation had been slow and cautious, coming together only after the hostage crisis that had almost cost Mac Taylor his life. What had amazed him the most was, even after he'd betrayed her trust in him, she'd given him another chance. The days and weeks since had brought back what he recognized now as a true unconditional love from her. Not taking anything in his revived life for granted, he reminded himself every day how he'd almost lost her. That reality kept him in line, and always trying to make their relationship better.
They both reached across their desks at the same moment. Their fingers meshed together tightly.
"We need some time off," Lindsay said softly.
"And soon," Danny added smiling. "We'll talk to Mac about some vacation time."
Their hands slipped apart reluctantly. Lindsay retrieved her purse from a desk drawer. "Two pastrami specials, potato salad, cole slaw, one cream and one orange soda. Meet you in the break room before we head for the lab?"
"Yeah," Danny said slowly as he came to the last of the papers on his desk. He picked up the envelope and ripped it open after noticing the odd return address. "Linds?"
Stopping just as she was opening the office door, she turned and looked back at Danny. "Something wrong?"
"Where did this envelope come from?"
"Oh, I forgot. The same messenger who delivered my plant dropped that off for you." Tilting her head, she smiled. "Should I be worried?"
Danny laughed loudly, "Not a chance!" He held up the two ticket-sized pieces of paper from the envelope. Grinning suggestively, he asked, "Care to make a bet on a Giants/Seahawks football game?"
Country girl Lindsay Monroe decided there was nothing that would ever make her like the smell of anisette. It might be a big part of Danny's ethnic food heritage, but even the thought of the cloying licorice scent made her nauseous. The taste, she knew from a stomach-clenching experience soon after her arrival in New York City, was even worse.
Quickly closing the cover of the grounds receptacle that now contained the anisette flavored coffee, she switched on the machine and moved back from the counter in their apartment kitchen. Sighing, she resigned herself to a coffee-less Tuesday morning of their vacation week. The things she did for love! At least she could enjoy a big, cold glass of pineapple juice with her breakfast.
Lindsay settled herself on a barstool at the peninsula counter, a full glass of juice in front of her. She stared out the rain-spattered kitchen window enjoying the quiet early morning time. Knowing Danny was close by increased her happy mood.
Food could wait until her still-slumbering significant other joined her. She wondered what his excuse would be for sleeping late. She laughed joyfully to herself. After the sensual workout she'd put him through last night, she wasn't surprised he was tired. She couldn't begrudge him the extra sleep though. After they'd come home from the football game Sunday, their roles had been reversed. She'd never admit it to Danny, but she was still a little sore from his overly enthusiastic bet collection.
She was glad they'd been able to find a larger vacant apartment in the same building. She liked Danny's neighborhood, feeling more at home than she ever had in her old place. That it was on a different floor than his previous apartment added to the fading memory of the hurt his old place had come to signify.
Combining their different tastes had been a challenge. It was another aspect of blending their very different personalities and backgrounds. This time they both acknowledged the work it would take to share their lives. Surprisingly, each day was bringing out how much they actually had in common compared to the outward differences.
While Danny's beloved barstools were still part of the décor, his motorcycle and the notorious pool table now occupied the small extra room the apartment came with. The new queen-sized bed he had surprised her with the day they moved in had healed the last of her doubts about his past indiscretion. From their very first day, she was truly comfortable sharing this space with him.
She'd been so nervous at their meeting with Mac. Two team members requesting vacation time together was a scheduling nightmare for the always busy lab. She should have trusted their understanding boss more. Falling back on the simple common sense that exhausted CSIs make mistakes, Mac's compassionate heart realized how badly they needed the time, away from the lab, and with each other.
Another swallow of the deliciously sweet juice brought a hungry growl from her stomach. Grinning, she started to slide off the barstool. Danny had slept enough. She wanted to share breakfast with him now.
The toes of one foot touched the floor and got no further as Danny's muscular arms wound around her body from behind. Holding her snugly against him, he buried his mouth deep in the space between her neck and shoulder. She relaxed and leaned into his chest enjoying the nibbling and licking of his teeth and tongue on her bare skin. When his practiced hand pushed the thin strap of her nightgown off her shoulder, the silky material slid down to her waist.
"When were you gonna wake me up?" Danny asked, his breath lightly caressing her ear.
"After last night, you needed the extra rest, Messer," she said dryly.
He reacted with one of his short, clipped laughs. Then his voice deepened as his arms tightened around her. "I don't like waking up without you there, Lindsay."
Twisting around in his arms to face him, she reached up and ran her fingers through his sleep-tousled spiky hair. "You were solo for so many years, Danny. You should be used to it."
"I wasn't in love before."
All she had to do was look into his spectacle-free deep blue eyes to know how much he meant those simple, direct words. Her heart raced at the special four letter word he'd said so honestly, the word that had been so hard for him to use before.
Slipping to the floor, she wound her arms around his neck and kissed him eagerly. The heat of their bare upper bodies quickly ignited a fresh desire, with hands and mouths searching and savoring each other.
Very slowly, Danny disengaged his lips from hers. "Is that anisette I smell?" he asked in a raspy voice.
Swallowing hard, Lindsay answered, "It's the flavored coffee from the gift basket. I thought you might like it on this grey rainy morning."
"Thank you," and he kissed the tip of her nose. His fingers slowly put the nightgown strap back on her shoulder. Smiling down at her, he said, "I'm hungry. How about some pancakes? I'll cook."
Forty-five minutes later they sat comfortably side by side at the counter, finishing up their pancakes and bacon.
The last bite of golden brown pancake went into Lindsay's mouth, the overly-generous coating of honey dripping back down to the plate. As she enjoyed the delicate flavor, a large drop seeped through her lips.
A slight smile played around Danny's mouth as he watched her eat. "You like my pancakes, huh?"
"They go well with my orange blossom honey," she grinned.
His finger gently wiped the drop of honey from her lips. After licking his finger clean, he said, "Not bad, but I'm a maple syrup guy."
Laughing, they exchanged a sweet kiss.
"Our fall foliage motorcycle trip is a bust. What do you want to do instead?" Lindsay asked.
Taking another long sip of his coffee, Danny answered, "Phone calls."
"I thought you'd suggest going back to bed," she giggled.
"Later," he said with a straight face then laughed when she punched his tattooed bicep. "It's really buggin the hell out of me where these gifts are comin from. Your plant was simple. Those choice fifty yard line game tickets weren't cheap."
"Neither was that loaded food basket that was delivered yesterday," she said pointing at the over-sized woven picnic basket on the counter next to the refrigerator. "It's all top-of-the-line gourmet food from the most famous deli in Manhattan."
"Whoever our benefactor is they know us pretty well. Where we work. Where we live. That we'd be home yesterday. If all these goodies weren't so benign, I'd think someone is stalking us. I'm almost afraid to think what's next," and he drained the last of his coffee. Getting up, he crossed to the counter where the coffeemaker's red light glowed.
Before she could answer him, their land-line phone rang. They were so used to getting and making calls on their cells, the apartment phone ringing was unusual. Startled they looked at each other.
Lindsay reached over to the end of the counter near the wall where the wireless phone rested in its base. Picking it up, she said, "Hello." After a few seconds of listening, she said, "Hi, Don. Danny's right here."
Holding his refilled coffee mug, Danny took the phone from her. "I'm on vacation, Flack."
Piling the empty breakfast dishes together, Lindsay took them to the sink. Something about Danny's sudden silence as he listened to Don Flack's voice on the other end of the line gave her goose bumps.
"Jeez," Danny said in a low, harsh voice. More intense listening then he said, "Thanks for lettin me know." He hung up the phone. He placed both hands flat on the counter and leaned forward on his outstretched arms.
Coming up beside him, Lindsay could see his knuckles turning white from pressing on the wood. Without hesitation she touched his arm. "What's wrong, Danny?"
"There was a drug raid over the weekend in Brooklyn North. A precinct sergeant was shot. He died last night."
Danny's long silence told her there was more. She waited, feeling his stiff body begin to shake from his inner emotions.
"His name was Bobby Russo. We were classmates at the academy. He was a good, caring cop who always took our oath very seriously. He had a wife and two little girls."
Lindsay wrapped her hands around Danny's arm and leaned her cheek against his bare skin. "When is the funeral?"
"Thursday, 9 a.m. at St. Brendan's in Brooklyn."
Keeping her voice even, Lindsay said, "I'll go with you."
"It's okay, Montana. You didn't know him. I can handle this myself."
Taking his chin between her fingers, she turned his face toward her. "When you hurt, Messer, I hurt. Okay?"
Letting go of the counter, Danny wrapped his arms around her and held tight.
Danny hadn't been able to remember the last time he'd worn his dress uniform. He would remember this time.
He sat on the edge of their bed, staring at his and Lindsay's uniforms neatly hanging side by side on the open closet door. He wondered if the next time he wore his would be for his own funeral.
His thoughts had been churning chaotically over the last two days. To his surprise, Bobby's funeral that morning was turning into a catalyst for his dark reflections, rather than adding to the mental chaos. Seeing his classmate's widow in black, bravely holding herself together at the church only to break down at the cemetery, forced him to acknowledge his deepest fear. Throughout the ride home in the back seat of Don's car, holding his lover's hand, all he could imagine was Lindsay, alone and grieving someday.
He should have remembered the consequences of being a cop before he let himself fall for her. Other guys, like Bobby, took the risk. In the back of his mind, he'd always known his luck would run out too soon. He'd made a decision long ago not to leave any loose ends behind.
Lindsay Monroe had become his loose end, and he didn't know what to do about it. They both knew the risks that came with their jobs, and neither would ever ask the other to quit. It had been easy to rationalize the anxiety in the early stages of their relationship. It wasn't so easy since they'd moved in together. He saw and felt her tightly controlled apprehension for him each day. It made him realize she'd never really forgiven herself for the pain and danger she'd exposed him to the morning after they'd become lovers. He suspected that was the real reason why she'd decided to forgive his lapse, believing that his physical infidelity balanced out what she owed him.
He admitted the flip side of his dark mood was his always smoldering fear for her safety. He knew she could take care of herself, but that didn't keep his dread from twisting inside him each time she was out in the field. It was a bitch to control but he did it, for her. She'd worked hard to get where she was now. Just because he was no longer on the promotion grid, he couldn't deny her any chances for advancement. He loved her too much.
The specter of danger that followed them was keeping that final commitment conversation at bay. He always found an excuse to put off asking her to marry him. He could see in her eyes that she understood why, and was practicing her own denial. For the first time, he knew what he wanted in his personal life – a wife, kids and a home of his own. He desperately needed to find a way to resolve his conflicting desires.
Danny felt a rare panic attack rising in his throat. He had to get out of the apartment. Scooping up his keys and cell phone from the dresser, he stuffed them into his jeans pockets. When his shaking hand reached for his wallet, it slipped through his fingers. The worn leather opened easily, spilling cash, credit cards and driver's license onto the floor.
As he forced the money and plastic into the bill pocket, a piece of paper he had buried in the old wallet made him stop. Slowly he read the ratty-edged St. Jude prayer card his mother had given him the day after he'd announced his plans to become a cop. It was the only time that highly volatile Italian woman had let someone else do her talking for her. "…the special advocate of those who are in trouble and almost without hope," he read aloud.
He'd always taken those words as a backhanded insult. He'd kept the card all these years anyway. He was a different kind of hopeless from his brother Louie, but hopeless nevertheless. He'd believed it too. Until he met his Montana.
He still hadn't taken Lindsay to meet his parents. He wasn't ready to answer all the questions from his mother about the first woman he'd cared enough about to bring home. He wanted to show her off so much, so they could see how special she was. Most of all, they'd see how much she'd changed him for the better.
Rubbing his thumb across the words on the card loosened a second piece of paper that was stuck behind it. The classy logo on the business card didn't register at first then he remembered. While he was recuperating from the beating last year, he'd gotten a phone call from a head hunter rep. The agency specialized in hiring security personnel for high-profile corporations. His part in the drug case had brought him to their attention and they wanted to meet with him. Danny had declined politely, firmly committed to his work with the NYPD CSI unit. They'd sent him a very persistent letter as a follow-up to the call. He'd tossed the letter. He didn't remember why he'd kept the engraved card and put it in his wallet.
With a shuddering deep breath, Danny grabbed his jacket and helmet from the closet. He found Lindsay in the kitchen making a sandwich.
She looked up smiling and asked, "What would you like for dinner, Danny?" Her raised eyebrow asked a second question when she noticed how he was dressed.
"If ya don't mind, I'm goin for a bike ride," he said calmly. "I need some air. It'll just be for a coupla hours. Okay, Lins?"
Danny immediately saw the flicker of unease from her. The outward signs of her distress had become more subtle since their reconciliation. Her usual clenched jaw and compressed lips were so similar to her work reactions when she was deeply involved in a tough case, he sometimes missed them. The personal sign she couldn't hide from him was her very expressive brown eyes, the warmth mixed with another emotion. This time there was a hurt disquiet there, and he knew what it meant.
Putting down the helmet, he circled her waist with his hands. "We'll talk as soon as I get back. I promise. I love you so much, Lindsay Monroe. Don't ever forget that."
He saw the warmth in her eyes change to a different emotion. She smiled and wound her arms around his neck. "Back at ya, Messer," and she kissed him.
"I hate fish," he mumbled as they came down the elevated train steps.
All during their ride from upper Manhattan to Sheepshead Bay in Brooklyn, Danny had repeated those words at regular intervals. The grumpy, put-upon tone of his voice was classic Danny Messer. It took all Lindsay's self-control to keep from laughing hysterically.
She put her arm through his when they reached the bottom of the staircase. Keeping his eyes straight ahead, he grunted and pressed her arm tighter against his side as they started walking toward the seafood restaurant picturesquely set within sight of the bay. Despite the strong October sunshine, a stiff autumn breeze from the Atlantic whipped around them.
Danny had kept his word about the talk three days ago, so she couldn't be angry with him. The words had come pouring out of him, faster than she'd ever heard him talk before. It was as if he was afraid he'd change his mind about leaving the NYPD if he didn't say it out loud, to her, and right that minute. Her shock changed to happy tears when he told her why he'd made the decision.
The second question he'd asked so shyly, would she be interested in having a couple of kids with him, completed her cherished dream for the future. As if to seal their commitment the best way he knew how, he'd made love to her so intensely that night the memory still took her breath away.
First thing next morning, he'd called the agency. They were still very interested in him, and gave him an interview appointment for Monday morning. They were both scheduled for the four to midnight shift when they returned to work tomorrow, so he could keep the appointment without neglecting his responsibility to the lab.
The rest of Friday had been spent going through his clothes. His extensive collection of jeans and casual shirts had left very little room for the more formal clothes he rarely wore anymore. He found his best pinstriped suit buried in a garment bag at the back of the closet, wrinkled but still looking good. Not satisfied with the meager selection he had, he dragged her to Bloomingdales for some new dress shirts and current style ties. His enthusiasm was so infectious, she found herself giggling like a teenager, especially when he insisted they check out the lingerie department. Their lovebird behavior on the bus ride back home brought a number of stares, shaken heads and smiles from the usually jaded New Yorkers.
In a matter of days she had found herself engaged to the man she adored and anticipating that he would soon be free of the danger he faced every day. She knew how big a sacrifice he was making, for them, and most of all for her. She also realized she had her own professional decisions to make.
Lindsay hadn't been prepared for the abrupt change in Danny's mood. His emotional high suddenly crashed when the phone call came yesterday from the restaurant. The calls he'd made earlier in the week, trying to track down the source of their mysterious gifts, had yielded nothing. All the items had been ordered anonymously and paid for in cash. His suspicious comment about being afraid of what would be next turned out to be groundless. The latest gift was the dinner they were on their way to, fully paid and without strings. She had taken the windfall as an omen to celebrate their new life together. It hadn't been received that way by him. As emotionally volatile as Danny could be, she'd never thought of him as the manic-depressive type. Yet, here he was, sullen, silent and closed off again. No amount of empathy, cajoling or sexual teasing from her had broken through the wall he'd erected around himself over the last twenty-four hours.
Inside the simply decorated restaurant with its rich woods and traditional nautical décor, they were escorted to a private table set apart from the central dining room. Lindsay took note of the large glass window panels that featured a breathtaking view of the coastline with its piers and boardwalk. She imagined the hinged windows were fitted with screens during the summer for an al fresco dining atmosphere.
With a smile, she thanked the waiter for the menu he handed her. Danny's response to his menu was another grunt.
"I hate fish," he slipped in casually as he scanned the menu.
"There are other things on the menu, Danny. They're known for their prime sirloin steaks," she explained sweetly. She chanced looking up from her menu. The reason for Danny's renewed silence made her smile. "They say if you stare out at the water, it calms you."
This time he growled softly in response but continued staring out the window at the rhythmically cresting waves rolling in from the horizon of water.
After another long minute, Danny turned away from his contemplation of the water and smiled at her. Rubbing his hands together, he asked, "So, what looks good for an appetizer, Lins?"
It was a typical Danny Messer conversation opening, and she grabbed at it. Covering his hand with hers she said insistently, "Talk to me, Danny."
A long, heavy sigh escaped from him as he responded, "Would ja believe nerves? It's been a long time since I had to do this interview thing." He turned his hand palm up so that he could caress the back of her hand with his thumb.
"You'll knock 'em dead, Messer. I know it."
Giving her a big smile, he intertwined his fingers with hers. "Just keep tellin me that, Montana. Every five minutes should do it."
The late afternoon shadows were slanting noticeably westward as they finished their dinner. After sharing a jumbo shrimp cocktail with her, Danny went with a rare super-cut steak and a generous side of onion rings. Lindsay's love of seafood was well satisfied with an over-sized casserole of lobster and king crab meat. The Caesar salad that came with it was big enough for two. As much as he hated fish, Danny didn't mind the hint of anchovy in the dressing. A couple of imported beers and a carafe of white wine completed their meal.
Stuffed and happy, Danny asked, "You up for dessert, Lins?"
Looking at the pile of leftover take-out containers on their table, she laughed, "Only if I can take it home for later."
Taking her hand in his, Danny kissed it gently. "Whatever you want, Montana."
A sudden burst of music and voices from the main room singing the words to "Happy Birthday" made them stop and look. A long table seating of more than a dozen people of varying ages became the center of attention as a large candle-covered cake was put in front of a white-haired man at the head of the table. At the end of the song, he blew out the candles. A grey-haired woman and two young children on either side of him helped him until all the candles were out. The table erupted in cheers and applause then gradually quieted.
"Do you think we'll have kids and grandkids treating us to special birthdays someday?" Danny asked thoughtfully.
"Why not? I know you're going to be a terrific father, Danny."
"As long as you're the other part of the pair to keep me on the straight and narrow, I'll have a chance," and he kissed her hand again.
The music that had been provided by a grand piano between the main dining room and the private table area they were in switched over to a bouncy pop music piece. Lindsay recognized it as the song that had become New York City's theme decades ago. Holding hands, she and Danny couldn't help smiling as their personal happiness spilled over.
Through the music, Lindsay heard a steady, on-key humming coming from across the table. She knew Danny had been a musician at one time, but had always assumed it was strictly playing an instrument. "I didn't know you sing."
With a straight face, Danny said, "I don't. I hum." Laughing, he continued, "My granpa Charlie considered Ol' Blue Eyes the greatest singer of the twentieth century. He had every 78, 45, EP and LP Sinatra ever made. He left all of them to me. That's what's in the plastic bin under the pool table. I still remember the lyrics to most of the songs."
"That's a great memory. I'm looking forward to meeting your family."
"That can be arranged, if you're brave enough," he grimaced.
A voice came through the room speakers as the man at the piano stood up. He picked up a large index card then said into the microphone, "It's been a tradition here at Pappas to do special dedications on the weekend. I'd like to start with a very romantic song for a very special couple – Danny and Lindsay."
Lindsay exchanged a shocked look with Danny, not sure what to do.
The silence and lack of movement in the room elicited a laugh from the MC. "Don't be shy. I promise you'll enjoy it if you get up and dance."
Danny stood up and offered Lindsay his hand. "Dance with me, Lindsay Monroe?"
Her lip trembling in joy, Lindsay stood up. Danny's sure hand went to the small of her back and he guided her onto the dance floor. The encouraging applause faded as the notes of a 1966 Top 40's hit floated from the piano keys.
A rich male baritone voice sang, ""Girl I can't let you do this, let you walk away…""
Standing in the center of the small dance floor, Danny smiled and took Lindsay in his arms. As the notes unraveled around the smoldering, emotive lyrics, they became lost in their own world of need for each other.
The vocalist spoke into the microphone, ""Baby, I can't make it without you, and I'm tellin you, honey, you're my reason for laughin, for cryin, for livin and for dyin.""
Their bodies pressed even closer, the words and music physically tangible and vital between them.
With a final repeat of the chorus, ""You're my soul and my inspiration. You're all I've got to get me by. You're my soul and my inspiration. Without you baby, what good am I,"" the baritone voice slid into a final long note.
A light scattering of applause surrounded them, but they ignored it as they kissed.
Very seriously, Danny asked, "Do you think fifty years will be enough, Montana?"
"Not a chance, Messer."
Holding hands, they walked off the dance floor, collected the leftovers from their table and exited the restaurant. They'd be able to make it home just in time for a Manhattan sunset.
After checking his watch, Danny stuffed the last of his interview clothes into the duffel bag. The traffic back to Don's apartment in Queens from Hicksville on the Island had been a bitch, with three accidents along the way. He'd be able to make it into Manhattan for his shift but without much time to spare to meet Lindsay. She was already at the lab, having gone in early to catch up on the inevitable backlog on her desk. He knew the same was waiting for him. Sometimes vacations weren't worth it. In their case, it had been worth every minute they'd have to make up in the days ahead.
He hoped they'd have time to talk before their shift actually started at four. He was so wired from the two plus hours at the agency, he needed her calming balance before he could get back to being a CSI again. There wouldn't be time to go into details until they were in the privacy of their apartment.
His biggest concern was telling her about the question that had come up so unexpectedly late in the interview – would he be open to relocating? If the right offer came, he'd be crazy to turn it down, and his Montana wouldn't hesitate to tell him so. He knew she'd go with him, never looking back. He hated the idea that she might have to sacrifice so much, but there would be no arguing with his stubborn country girl.
The whispered words of encouragement she'd given him in the warmth of their bed after they had made love last night brought into sharpest focus how empty his life had been before he met her. She didn't let him get away with anything anymore when he tried to revert to his old emotional habits. Her sweet but persistent behavior at the restaurant yesterday was just the right kind of ass-kicking he'd needed. Another guy might see it as being whipped. Danny smiled. Lindsay Monroe's kind of whipped was pure love. She knew he was far from perfect, but she believed in him anyway. He was her hero, Bronx accent and all, since that day he'd shown up in the Montana courtroom. If they lived to be a hundred, he could never give back everything she'd given to him. He sure as hell was going to try every day of his life.
Glancing at his watch again, Danny yelped, "Shit!" He hoped the subway was on time. Making his way into the living room, he called, "Hey, Don?"
"In the kitchen," his friend answered.
Danny threw the keys to Don's Sunbird onto the small kitchen table. "Thanks for the loan, Flack. I was real careful, and there's not a mark on her." Laughing, he added, "I even filled the tank."
"You're welcome," Don answered coolly.
Confused at the abrupt response, Danny looked closely at his friend. The tall detective was leaning back against the kitchen counter, a bottle of Guinness in hand. That was a pretty common thing when Flack wasn't on duty. What caught his attention was the neat line of empties next to the sink.
When Don just stared at him with the ice blue eyes he used so aggressively with suspects, Danny asked, "Aren't you gonna ask how it went?"
"How'd it go?" Don Flack said coldly.
"I nailed it," Danny said without enthusiasm. "It was the new tie that did it," he added sarcastically. "Your great taste in neckwear finally rubbed off on me."
The two friends glared at each other steadily. Finally, the younger detective broke the silence. "Why are you doing this?" Don demanded.
"You're kiddin me, right?" When Don continued staring in silence, Danny said, "I'm leavin the NYPD because I want a life, with real days off and regular sleep." Remembering Lindsay's loving words last night when they'd talked about their future plans, he added, "Most of all, I wanna live to see my kids grow up."
"That's not the Danny Messer I've known all these years. The units number one player who never let any woman interfere with his job or his freedom," Don snapped back in his own version of sarcasm.
"That was the old high maintenance Messer."
"High maintenance your ass! You're a cop, Messer, right down to your soul, and nothin'll ever change that!"
Danny felt his anger boiling up then pulled it back before he said things he'd regret. Instead he recalled the increasing closeness he and Lindsay had noticed between Don and Jess Angell. He suspected he and his old friend had more in common than Don was ready to admit. Getting involved with a fellow detective on the front line of danger was even riskier than a CSI pairing.
"Tell me the job isn't why you're still solo, Don?" he asked calmly. When his friend scowled back at him then looked away, he said, "I thought so." He walked up to Don. Folding his arms in front of him, he stood with his feet wide apart. "Look, we've been friends too long to argue like this. I'm gonna be needin a best man soon. And a godfather for our firstborn someday. I want that person to be you, buddy," and Danny held out his hand to Don. He waited patiently, closely watching the play of emotions on his friend's face.
Don's anger suddenly collapsed, and he took Danny's hand tightly in his. "So, when's the wedding?" and he started to smile.
Lindsay finished watering the bitterroot plant that had found a permanent home next to her phone. Being a sagebrush plains perennial, it had endured the nine day dry spell of her vacation quite nicely. In place of the already fading flowers, new stems were showing fresh buds.
After clearing her own desk, she'd sorted through the accumulated mail and paperwork on Danny's, putting things in piles. He was unusually neat for a guy, so she left the rest to him. She wondered sometimes if he had a split personality. His sharp, intuitive scientific mind was often contradicted by his caustic wit or his overly passionate reactions to life and the world.
She looked at her watch then out the glass doors, hoping to see him striding down the hallway with a big post-interview grin on his face. She laughed softly. Her man had the sexiest walk she'd ever seen. She felt a heavy flush rising up her face, remembering what those extraordinary hips of his were capable of doing to her.
As anxious as she was to talk to him, she needed to meet with Stella first. The senior CSI was out in the field at a fresh crime scene so her return to the lab was unpredictable. Lindsay knew her dear friend would want to know the "why" of her request. She'd be able to give one very honest answer. Anything else would have to wait. She loved this place, for so many reasons. But she loved Danny more.
"I thought you and Danny had the four to midnight shift, Lindsay," Stella Bonasera said from the doorway.
"Hi, Stell. I just wanted to get a head start. Do you have a few minutes?"
"For you, of course," Stella smiled.
In her office, Stella flopped into the chair behind her desk. She was obviously tired but quickly put it aside and focused on Lindsay sitting on the other side of her desk. "I got your voicemail message. Is something wrong?"
Lindsay smiled gratefully at the woman who had become so much more than just a boss in her three years there. "I want to put in for a permanent status change to full time in the lab."
Startled, Stella asked, "You don't want to do field work anymore?"
"No," Lindsay answered simply.
"But you're so good at it, Lindsay. Mac has come to depend on your first hand observation skills."
"I know. But I need the change."
Stella was thoughtful then asked, "Why?"
She'd rehearsed the words very carefully over the last few hours but it was still hard to say. "From the beginning of our relationship, I've known that Danny worried about my safety. In our kind of work, it just comes with the territory. It wasn't until we moved in together that I really saw and felt how intense his fear for me is each day."
Leaning forward on her desk, Stella spoke more forcefully, "Does Danny know you're doing this?"
Shaking her head slowly, Lindsay answered honestly, "No. He'd never ask me to change my job responsibilities, anymore than he'd ask me to quit the work I love. This is my compromise."
"You realize this will take you off the promotion track."
"It's the only way I can have the best of both worlds. I hope you'll support my decision when I make the formal request to Mac."
The serious expression faded from Stella's bright blue eyes as she came around her desk. Taking Lindsay's hands in hers, she smiled. "You have my full support."
Lindsay stood up, and the two women embraced.
The phone rang and Stella reached back to answer. "Bonasera." She listened then said, "She's right here. I'll send her over." Hanging up, she turned to Lindsay. "That was Hawkes. He'd like you to meet him in Ballistics ASAP. He said it's important."
"Thanks for being so understanding, Stella."
Stella laughed gently. "It's a trite cliché, but that's what friends are for."
The storage boxes of evidence envelopes had been carefully checked and rechecked over the past hour and a half. Lindsay had kept her personal feelings about the old, unsolved case to herself as one element after another from the new case had fallen into place. The final proof, the two bullets she was looking at, brought both satisfaction and renewed sadness to her heart.
Looking up at Sheldon Hawkes who was smiling patiently at her elbow, she exclaimed, "They match! This guy is the one who killed Mattie Sullivan!"
"Yes, he is. This time he made the mistake of trying to rob a store where the owner was a trained marksman. He's in the hospital for now."
"Next stop is a jail cell," Lindsay breathed hotly.
"I know you and Danny won't miss testifying on this one."
"Right. I just wish I could let Maggie Sullivan know."
"She doesn't have a phone?" he asked puzzled.
"It's not that. A few weeks after Mattie died, the bakery was closed. A card I sent to Maggie at the Marine Park address was returned with no forwarding. She moved out of the city and we don't know where."
"That's tough. At least it won't prevent the city from prosecuting the bastard for her husband's murder."
Squeezing Sheldon's arm, she said, "Thanks for letting me be part of this."
"You're very welcome, Montana," Hawkes smiled warmly.
Noticing that the clock on the lab wall showed the time as a quarter after three, Lindsay rushed to the door. "I have to find Danny, and give him the news."
There wasn't much left of the all-day food spread that Mac Taylor had had catered-in for the lab personnel. His brief announcement over the loudspeakers that morning had explained that it was a long overdue thanks to everyone in the CSI unit for jobs well done.
After finding no one in their joint office, Danny went into the break room looking for Lindsay. Instead he found Adam Ross carefully loading a plastic plate with pastries from a half-empty tiered tray.
"You hungry, Adam?" Danny said laughingly as he stood beside the red-haired lab tech.
Startled, Adam sputtered, "Oh, Danny. Uh, these are for Kendall. A late afternoon snack."
Danny laughed again. Looking at the pastries, he asked, "So, what would you recommend?"
Holding up a piece of layered pastry, Adam said, "Definitely the baklava. Stella has been in here three times since this morning. She said this was just like what you used to bring in from that place near you."
"Stella's our resident expert on baklava. She should know." Danny picked up a miniature croissant and popped it into his mouth. The familiar taste made him look more closely at the pastries. Carefully wedged in the side of the tray, he found a business card. His breath caught at the very familiar name on it.
"Have you seen Lindsay?"
"She's in Ballistics with Hawkes. They're working on some evidence."
"Thanks," Danny said absently, clutching the powdered-sugar smeared card.
"Looks like you and Lindsay didn't spend much time outdoors while you were on vacation," Adam called as Danny hurried out the door. "Glad to have you both back."
Out in the hallway, Lindsay and Danny saw each other at the exact same moment.
She rushed up to him, smiling. "Mattie Sullivan's killer is in custody, from a robbery he just committed!"
"That's great news, Linds." Holding out the business card so she could read it, Danny smiled broadly. "We can tell Maggie tomorrow."
The Village of Rockville Centre in Nassau County was a pleasant motorcycle ride from the Upper West Side of Manhattan. Danny and Lindsay were able to avoid the morning rush hour traffic and still have plenty of time before their shift started.
Lindsay's arms tightened around Danny's waist as the Harley made the transition from I-678 to the Sunrise Highway. Since the night he'd given her a ride home from the hospital where Don had been taken after the bombing a little over two years ago, she'd come to appreciate the fine points of riding a bike with Danny Messer. One in particular was being so physically close to him in public. It titillated her in ways she hadn't admitted to him until they became lovers. Since then his sensually inventive mind regularly incorporated variations into their lovemaking on special occasions.
Last night started out as a duel special occasion. Danny had been severely hyper while he'd been confined to their office and in the lab doing routine case work. He didn't say a word about the interview but she knew he was anxious to know more about her news. An unexpected call to a crime scene on Staten Island gave her a chance to tell him the how and when of Mattie Sullivan's killer being caught while he drove. Once they were at the cordoned off area near the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge, their professional code of behavior kicked in, which put an end to any discussion of personal business.
When they got home from their unusually normal eight hour shift, she'd let him talk first. All through their multi-course Chinese take-out dinner, he'd asked countless questions about the evidence. Only when she had given him positive reassurance that the case would stick did he switch topic and begin filling her in on every aspect of the interview. The agency would be contacting him later in the week to set up direct interviews. He was hesitant when he told her that there might be a prospective employer out of state. After all his structured years on the job, Danny's face was sometimes blank and unreadable, whether behind his glasses or without them. After three years, she knew that his mouth always gave his thoughts away – a smile, a grimace, his anger, his desire. This time it was a frown, and she knew what it meant.
His concern for her feelings was a perfect opening for her news. Instead of adding to the happiness and hope he felt, his unexpected reaction was shock when she told him she was giving up the field work part of being a CSI. Covering quickly, he smiled lovingly and said the supportive words that were appropriate. His emotional silence started at that moment and continued into this morning.
For Danny, being silent had always been either a problem brewing or a struggle to keep his ebullient personality in check. Since their reunion, he'd gradually accepted that his old stoicism didn't work anymore. Like her, he was embracing their physical and emotional vulnerabilities, using them for pleasure and comfort, instead of pain or punishment. Their substantive love was bringing them together in a new way for the future while the highly passionate sex they shared made that love so much sweeter with each passing day.
Her first reaction to his sudden emotional shutdown had been panic that he would withdraw from her again. Instead there was a startling difference. In his silence, Danny drew her closer rather than pushing her away. After they cleared the dishes and showered, he had initiated a luxuriously intimate lovemaking session where he concentrated solely on her pleasure, touching her even more than usual. Her final wanton release from that favorite position was intense. Though he was still silent, she felt him come especially hard inside her.
Despite her happiness that she and Danny were so close, Lindsay wondered if they were making a mistake. What was the name of that story she'd read in high school? The one about the poor young couple who each sold their most prized possession to buy a gift for the other? Would changing their lives so drastically take away that precious closeness they'd come to after so many trials?
At the bottom of the exit ramp, Lindsay lifted her face from where she'd buried it deeply in Danny's jacket. He was used to her tenacious hold on him when they rode. She hoped the noises around them would hide her tight sob that escaped without warning. She had to trust that he would break his silence once he found the right words.
They easily found Sullivan's Café II on a busy main road. After parking the bike and securing their helmets, they surveyed the sprawling building at the center of a large L-shaped parking lot. The impressive bakery portion on the left was inviting with its familiar sweet smells drifting in the air. A restaurant section extended out from the bakery on the right. The parking areas around each were already crowded with customers, their cars creating a steady stream of traffic going in and out.
Laughing heartily, Lindsay said, "The kids have done very well for themselves!"
Putting his hand firmly under the collar of her coat, Danny kissed her forehead. "Mattie would be very proud."
Lindsay eagerly leaned into him when he pulled her close beside him as they walked toward the bakery. She prayed that his open physical affection was a true reflection of the emotions he was still keeping silent about.
Inside the deliciously scented store, they waited patiently while several customers were served by the two pink-clad women employees behind the counter. Being the highly trained CSIs that they were, both took in every detail of the store arrangement, comparing it to the original Sullivan's.
Danny's long fingers clasped Lindsay's hand tightly in his. He'd heard her choked off sob as they waited at the exit ramp light. Her announcement last night wasn't what he'd ever expected her to do. Giving up something she cared about so much wasn't what he wanted for her. It was what he wanted for himself, for her to be safe. It had been her free choice, but the reality of it just didn't feel right. He knew what he needed to say to her, but all he could do for now was touch her. They were here to give Maggie Sullivan the news she'd probably lost hope of ever hearing, that her husband's killer had been caught. His and Lindsay's personal drama had to wait for a different time and place.
A short dark-haired woman came out of the back carrying a tray of cookies. She noticed them standing to the side of the serving line. After putting the tray in a display case, she came up to them and asked, "Can I help you?"
"Is Mrs. Sullivan here?" Danny asked.
"I'm Mrs. Sullivan," she answered puzzled.
"We're looking for Maggie Sullivan?" Lindsay explained.
A sudden smile lit up the woman's face and she said, "She's in the restaurant kitchen. I'll get her."
Lindsay pulled her hand away from Danny and moved to the wall just to the right of the connecting archway that linked the bakery to the restaurant. "Danny, look at this!" She pointed to a framed photograph hanging among a large display of memorabilia that looked very much like the arrangement that had been in the previous store. "That's us at the restaurant, dancing. But how?"
Standing closely beside her, he looked at the photograph. "Don't know." His eyes quickly scanned more of the photos until he came to another one he'd never seen before. They weren't able to go to Mattie's funeral Mass last year because of work so they'd gone to the wake the night before instead. He'd been amazed at how packed the funeral home had been during the calling hours. Now he knew why. Pointing, he said in a soft voice, "I never knew Mattie was one of New York's Bravest."
"A fireman?" Lindsay asked in awe. Her eyes tentatively slipped to his face then quickly shifted away as if she was testing his mood, afraid of what she might see.
From behind them, a woman's strong voice said, "The first time I saw Mattie Sullivan was at his graduation from Delehanty. I was sixteen and fell head over heels for him in that uniform. I begged my brother Dom, who also graduated that day, to invite him to dinner. He did, and four years later Mattie and I were married."
Impulsively, Lindsay reached out and hugged Maggie. "It's so good to see you again, Maggie."
In place of a hug, Danny held out his hand, "We have some news for you."
Maggie's milk chocolate eyes looked at Danny's hand then into his eyes. "Italian friends don't shake hands," she said firmly.
The warmth of Maggie's voice and words were especially soothing to Danny knowing how anxiously Lindsay was scrutinizing his every move. He hugged the older woman who barely reached his shoulder. He couldn't help noticing the fresh smile on Lindsay's face.
Tenderly touching the photo of Mattie in his FDNY uniform, Maggie sighed then turned to Danny and Lindsay. "We have a great lunch menu. A reunion like this should be done over food, and lots of it."
Danny grinned, "I never turn down food, right Lins?" His lover's fresh laughter in response to the old joke between them made him relax more. Facing Maggie he said, "Our good news deserves that kind of celebration."
In the lunch-hour crowded restaurant, a lively discussion of the menu, and all the latest news about Maggie's kids, their spouses and all the grandchildren created a great deal of happy laughter around their secluded table. The lull that followed after Danny and Lindsay gave their food order to the waitress was brief.
"I knew you two would find your way here. I didn't expect you to bring any news - except that you're getting married soon," Maggie said in the motherly voice she had always used toward them when they were in the café.
Danny laughed shortly. "Let's take this one thing at a time, okay? Lins, you tell her."
Lindsay became serious. "The man who shot Mattie is in police custody. He tried another robbery that didn't go well and got caught. The gun from that robbery and other evidence tie him directly to the café crime last year. The creep will get what he deserves. Danny and I will be there to make sure of it."
His hands folded in front of him, Danny leaned forward, "If you give us your address and phone number, we'll pass it on to the DA's office, so they can contact you about testifying."
He was surprised when Maggie rested both her hands on top of his. He could see her deep emotions swing from happy to sad and back to happy again as her hands clutched his tightly.
Maggie's voice started with a noticeable tremble then became steady as she went on. "Thank you both for everything you did last year for Mattie. And for this news. After the first time you brought Lindsay into the store, Danny, Mattie told me if you were smart, you'd marry her. The two of you reminded him of us, the way you looked at each other, the way you laughed together, the way you touched. Even though all he ever talked about was sports and politics, my husband was the biggest romantic. Seeing you still together proves he was right."
The old guilt reared up and Danny sat back in his chair, his hands slipping out from under Maggie Sullivan's. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lindsay blanch. "I almost screwed it all up, Maggie. Mattie would have kicked my ass if he was still here."
Smiling at Lindsay, Maggie said, "But you fixed it, right?"
"Yeah," Danny answered softly, "and I won't make that mistake again."
"Love survives if it's meant to be," Lindsay added tenderly. Slowly she wove her fingers through his hand that was resting on the table.
For the briefest of seconds, he saw a sadness in her eyes that hadn't been there since their time apart. He let her fingers take control of his hand. A smile filled her whole face, telling him she understood what he was saying by his silent acceptance of her intimate touch.
Turning to Maggie, Lindsay laughed excitedly, "You didn't have to go through all that elaborate work to keep your gifts a secret just to get us here. We would have come if you had asked."
"Would you have accepted the gifts if you'd known they were from me?" Maggie asked shrewdly.
"The plant, maybe," Danny quipped. Into the laughter his flip remark brought out in the two women, he asked, "What's the deal with the restaurant and the picture of us dancin? And how did you know our schedules? You got spies everywhere?"
"Just relatives. My nephew owns Pappas. He's from the Greek branch of the family. As for spies, the Sullivan and DeMartino families also have connections in the NYPD so it was easy to find out all your personal information."
"So much for security," Lindsay said derisively.
"I have a favor to ask," Maggie said hesitantly.
In unison, Danny and Lindsay answered, "Anything."
Maggie smiled poignantly then said, "Next Monday is the first anniversary. There's going to be a memorial Mass at the cathedral here. I'd like you both to be there with me."
Danny nodded to Lindsay and she said, "It would be our honor, Maggie."
Breaking the heavily charged moment, their waitress arrived and served the generously filled plates of food.
As he picked up his oversized deluxe Italian cheeseburger with both hands, Danny asked, "If we don't like the food, we don't hafta pay the bill, right?"
"What bill?" Maggie said innocently.
Lindsay became silent as Danny approached the table. She felt Maggie's hand brush hers then retreat.
Smiling, Danny tapped his watch as the two women got up from the table. "We need to get goin, Lins." He helped her into her jacket then hugged Maggie. "We'll see you next week. I promise."
"Thank you," Maggie whispered and kissed him on the cheek.
Despite her nervousness, Lindsay rested her hand on his chest and smiled. "I want to get some pastries to take home. Maggie told me about her latest creation, a chocolate raspberry cheesecake in filo, and I want to try it."
"Montana's Sweet Decadence to go with Maggie's Triple Threat Baklava, huh," he laughed. Looking into Lindsay's face lovingly, he said, "I'll be waiting at the bike." Ignoring the very public place, he kissed her lightly on the lips.
Once Danny was out of sight, the two women sat down again.
Curiously, Maggie asked, "What do you want to know about Mattie?"
"Are you sure you don't mind my questions? I don't want to stir up painful memories."
"No memory about Mattie is painful, except the last one."
Reminiscent of that terrible night in the store, Maggie grasped Lindsay's right hand tightly. Very slowly she let it go.
"Why didn't you want anyone to know Mattie had been with the FDNY?"
"That was his choice. He said it was because he'd moved on. That the past was the past. Truth is, he didn't want to be reminded of what he gave up."
"Tell me more. Please," she begged as she sat forward, waiting for Maggie to collect her thoughts.
"Mattie took retirement after twenty years as a firefighter so he could help me start the business I'd always dreamed about. He knew I couldn't do it alone so he made the decision to give up the next most important part of his life after me and the kids."
"Did he ever regret it?"
"He never said. But I did. Mattie lost a certain part of himself when he gave up the work he loved so much. I loved him even more for it, but I missed that special spark in his eyes and in his soul of who he'd been when we were young."
Lindsay was silent and thoughtful, frightened of how close her fears for Danny and their future fit Maggie's story about Mattie.
"Is something wrong between you and Danny?"
"Not exactly wrong."
"But not right either?"
"Danny's decided to leave the NYPD and go into private security work."
"Because?"
"He's afraid he's going to die young and leave me a widow if he doesn't."
To Lindsay's stunned surprise, Maggie burst out laughing. She was so shocked by the older woman's extreme reaction she didn't know what to say.
As her laughter tapered off, Maggie said, "I know Mattie liked to tell everyone a very romanticized version of his proposal the morning of the subway strike. The real story is we had a huge fight that night. I told him we either got married in the spring or we were through."
"He wouldn't make the marriage commitment because his work was so dangerous." When Maggie nodded, Lindsay said, "They are so alike it's scary."
"I can't tell you what to do, honey. You're the only one who knows what giving up the work he loves will do to Danny."
"I do know, and I've been so stupid to let it go this far. I was too afraid to challenge him after all the bad times we've been through. I've taken the easy way out by going along with this whole 'changing our lives' scenario ever since he brought it up."
"Then tell him how you really feel, Lindsay. It'll give him a chance to tell you what's in his heart."
"I hope so. He can be so damn stubborn sometimes!"
The women's hands came together across the table.
"Let's go get those pastries. And I have one last gift for my two favorite CSIs," Maggie smiled.
His arms crossed tightly in front of him, Danny straddled his Harley, waiting for Lindsay. It was getting late, but he was hoping he'd have a little more time. He was still sorting out everything that had happened over the past week.
He'd been so sure of his decision to give up his shield and his place with the CSI lab. He'd definitely be moving up in the world, catching a much classier type of bad guy in a cushier setting, and for much more money. There wouldn't be the daily threat of being shot, stabbed or beaten to a pulp by scumbag perps or psycho killers.
It had all sounded so great, in his head and at the agency yesterday. Lindsay had supported his decision wholeheartedly from the beginning. The relief he'd seen in her eyes was beautiful. She'd no longer have to be afraid of losing him.
The trouble with this great big movie fantasy he'd dreamed up was that his choice was turning out to be far from easy, simple or smooth. The whole Messer plan for the future started to backfire on him when Lindsay made her announcement last night. His grand scheme to change careers was already taking away something she held dear, and could take more depending on where the new job took him. Yes, she'd be safe no longer doing field work, but the price she would be paying was too high, and reeked of selfishness on his part. He was so pissed at himself right now he wanted to punch someone's lights out, preferably his own.
It was the work that had brought Lindsay to him. It was what they did best and wanted most – catch all the bad guys who hurt innocent people. Seeing Maggie reminded him what being a cop and a CSI really meant. His heart still ached that they hadn't been able to save Mattie. But what if he and Lindsay hadn't been there that night, doing their jobs even off duty? Instead of finding new joys with her family even though her beloved husband was gone, Maggie might have been slaughtered too. The world would have lost two special souls instead of just one.
He saw Lindsay come out of the bakery carrying a small Sullivan's Café shopping bag. In place of the smile she'd given him only minutes ago, her face was grim and determined. He'd seen that look before. It told him his silence had become too painful for her. It had brought back too many bad memories.
The physical closeness he'd shown her last night and over these past hours was his way of asking her to trust him. Her hand in his and the words she'd said that brought back the ones she'd used that night in the hospital waiting room told him she understood. But he couldn't keep her waiting any longer. He'd hurt her enough already. The time and place to end his silence needed to be here and now.
When she stopped a formal distance from him, he said casually, "Hey, Montana. What's in the bag?"
Reaching into the handled bag, she pulled out a large white envelope. "A special souvenir from Maggie," she said taking a photograph out and handing it to him.
Whoever had taken the pictures while he and Lindsay were dancing that day at the restaurant had captured them at the exact moment of their kiss in the eight by ten color photo he held. It was so perfect he had to swallow hard to keep from taking her in his arms the way he'd held her on the dance floor.
"Very nice. We should frame it."
"And hang it where, cowboy?"
Her question was a challenge. His time for silence was over. "I've decided not to consider any job offer outside New York. You won't hafta give up your field work."
"And you don't have to quit what you've worked so hard to become – a good cop and a great CSI."
"We've talked about this, Montana," he said defensively.
"No, you've talked. I made the mistake of listening. You're quitting because you think you're going to die young. Well, I don't accept that."
"You've been here three years, Lindsay Monroe. It's all around us, every day we're out in the field, cleanin up the carnage. That's not gonna change any time soon."
"That's your excuse for not taking risks, with me and with the future? I've had too much bad in my life already, Messer. I won't abandon my real life for an unknown future of safe days and potential regrets."
Angrily he snapped, "And if my Messer luck runs out? My police pension wouldn't keep you warm at night or pay all the bills or take care of our kids!"
"No, but it's the best reason I can think of to make every day of our time together really count Danny," she said moving closer to him.
He was torn between wanting to play it safe and taking the risk she was daring him to. The softness that had evolved as she spoke slipped away in those quick seconds he hesitated. The feisty, tough woman he'd fallen in love with took over again.
"Why am I always the positive, sensible one, Messer? It makes me feel like a controlling bitch. You're so 'all man', but you let me do it. Why?"
Danny breathed a deep sigh of relief. His Montana had given him the perfect way out of the dead-end argument he'd created. "Because the man still does stupid boy things. That's why I need you, Lindsay, now and for as long as we live."
"Is that a proposal from Danny Messer the NYPD cop?" she asked hopefully.
Smiling, he reached out and pulled her close against his body. "If you want it to be."
Lindsay's joy lit up her face and took hold of her voice as she threw her arms around his neck, "I do!"
They pulled apart breathlessly, knowing the deep reconciliation kissing and embracing had to be cut short. They were due in for their shift in an hour.
Clutching the bag tightly against her side, Lindsay wrapped her arms tenaciously around Danny's waist.
After a long, loving glance over his shoulder, Danny headed the bike into the street. With luck, they would be back in their comfortable queen-sized bed in a reasonable time after midnight, to share some pastries and each other.