"Hey Danny?"

Her voice was a lot softer than she intended, and for a moment she wondered if he heard it over the noise of the car.

"Yeah?"

"Can you take me back to the lab?"

"You sure, Montana?"

"Yeah. I have some stuff I need to finish up."

"You can do it tomorrow. You need sleep."

"I really need to go back to the lab."

He didn't argue, just turned the car in that direction. He wasn't sure what she was thinking, but he knew it wasn't something she was likely to tell him.

He dropped her off outside the building and offered to wait for her even though he sensed she wanted to be either alone or just away from him. She shooed him off, saying she was going to be a while.

She headed upstairs into the quiet lab and sun down in her desk chair with a sigh. Danny was right, she needed sleep, but she was too stubborn to be escorted home. She didn't have anything she needed to get done here, but she didn't want him holding her hand either. He had a way of being charming but also making her feel almost weak, and she didn't need that in her life. She wanted to be taken care of, of course, but Danny Messer was a man who smoothed things over rather than get at the heart of the issue. Their partnership worked well for that reason, he could smooth over arguments or frustrations and move on with the case. But she knew the flirting they did sometimes couldn't turn into anything real. It just wouldn't work out.

And she was finding that she wanted it a lot less than she had originally thought.

"Lindsay?"

She turned around and found Adam, worry etched into his face. He'd been in Arizona for the last few days and just seeing him settled her nerves a lot.

"I just heard. Is everyone okay? How's Flack?"

"Everyone's okay. Flack is… it's going to be a long road for him."

"Are you alright?"

She nodded and he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him and looking at her more carefully.

"You're hurt."

"It's only a flesh wound."

"How John Cleese of you. Gonna do a silly walk?"

"Are you suggesting coconuts migrate?"

He gave a half smile and pulled her into his arms.

"I'm glad you're okay. You are okay, right?"

"I'm fine, Adam."

"Want me to take you home?"

"Aren't you on shift?"

"No, I heard what happened and I came in to check on everyone and to… see you."

She gave the barest of smiles at that and he extended his hand to her, letting his fingers brush over the inside of her wrist.

"Come on. I bet you haven't slept."

She shook her head a little and he reached over to tuck a curl behind her ear. Their eyes met and she stood up, her heart heavy with how much she'd missed him, just in four days. They hadn't really called each other; she'd been busy with work and he'd been busy with family, so an occasional text message was all they'd been afforded.

He dropped her hand as they left the office and got on the elevator, not wanting to draw attention to themselves. Everyone knew they were friends, everyone saw how they looked at each other, but they weren't dating and no one needed to assume that they were.

"How was your flight?" she asked absently, once they'd reached the parking garage and his car.

"How was my flight? You just watched a building blow up with your friends inside and you're asking how my flight was?"

"Yes, I am."

He sighed, knowing she'd reached the point where she didn't want to talk about it.

"It was alright. Pretty empty actually. We stopped in Ohio somewhere. It was kind of depressing."

She grinned and reached over to squeeze the hand that he had resting on the gear shift.

"I missed you, Adam."

"I missed you too. I um… I wished you were there with me."

"You did?"

"Yeah. We coulda painted that town red."

She snickered and shook her head, putting her feet up on the dashboard as he drove.

"Did you even go home yet?"

"Yeah, I dropped my stuff off and I was going to call you, but then I heard the message on my machine and I figured you were at the lab."

"Who left you a message?"

"Jenkins."

"That dude is such a girl."

"Yeah. He likes the gossip. Did you see the vanity plate on his Hummer?"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. It says "Jenkins." Like we don't know whose obnoxious orange oversized automobile that is."

"I applaud the alliteration. How does he even drive that thing around here? It doesn't fit on the streets."

"I think he just mows over little old ladies on his way to work."

"Adam!"

"Next hit and run, prime suspect."

She groaned and shook her head, realizing that her hand was still on his, but not caring. She'd missed him, and that was a good enough excuse for anything.

They got to her apartment and she didn't even have to invite him up. He followed her into the elevator and they leaned against opposite walls, staring at their shoes. She was exhausted, he was jet-lagged, and she had a feeling one or both of them would be falling asleep on the couch to reruns of "Whose Line is it Anyway?"

"Are you hungry?" she asked, unlocking her door. "I think I've got like… some crackers in here or something."

"Nah, I'm fine."

They went into the kitchen and she grabbed two glasses out of the cupboard, filling them with water. She turned and handed his to him, and he let out a slight gasp.

"What?"

"Linds," he said, putting the glass on the counter and stepping closer. "It's worse than I thought it was."

She winced as he examined the gash on her head. It was a lot worse than it looked, it went up past her hairline and she was actually surprised it hadn't spewed blood everywhere.

"Letting it breathe?"

"Mm-hmm."

He looked at it for another moment before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the slightly swollen skin.

"If it scars, I'm calling you Potter."

"Would that make you Ron or Hermione?"

"I'm not even sure, actually."

"Well then I suppose I'll call you Neville."

"Longbottom!" he said, using a terrible British accent.

"Oh Adam."

She shook her head and was about to walk into the other room when he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his arms. She settled in against him with a sigh, smiling at how warm he was and how good it felt to be held. She was getting used to it, his little acts of affection, and she'd missed it while he was gone.

"I love you, Linds."

"I love you too."

"Don't die on me, alright? I'd go insane."

"Ditto."

Both of them wanted to say a little more, but they knew they needed some levity in the discussion, so they pulled apart and headed for the couch. They kicked their shoes off and sat down in tandem, sharing the middle cushion and propping their feet up on the coffee table.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"How come we always end up here? How come we never go to your place?"

"Linds. Do you really want to chance sitting on my couch and eating the food in my fridge?"

"Good point."

He reached across her lap and rested his hand on her hip, and she tipped her head against his shoulder, yawning and absentmindedly running her hand up and down his arm. After a few minutes her legs curled up and were half in his lap, and he turned to press a kiss to her hair.

"How far are you from conking out?"

"About ten minutes. You?"

"Same."

She nodded and yawned, not wanting to let him go just yet. Normally when they got this tired, he would leave, standing in the hallway until he heard the deadbolt click behind him. Occasionally she fell asleep sooner and he would carry her to bed, using his own key to lock her door. Once or twice he'd stayed over, and they'd spent the early mornings giggling over messy hair and what cartoon was best.

"Lindsay?"

"Mmm?"

"Can you have a conversation or are you out?"

"Wha' kinna conv'sation?"

"Yeah, you're too far gone."

"Tell me'n the mornin'?"

"Yeah, eventually. Crash out, Sleepy Jean."

She gave him a small smile and he ran his finger over the cut on her forehead. He could feel his eyelids drooping and he wished they were both more coherent. He needed to talk to her about something, tell her what he'd been thinking the entire time he was gone. It wasn't just missing her as his friend. He'd wanted her by his side, as much more than that. He didn't know where she stood on the issue, but he could guess. They'd been spending a lot of time together lately, and he was sure that more time would only be better. He wanted to be with her, to be more than just her friend, to be able to tell her that he loved her without having to blanket it in friendship. He wanted to kiss her goodnight and promise to always be there and freely imagine a future. He knew she cared about him too, but he didn't know if she saw them together or if she was even ready for that. Maybe he wasn't either. Maybe it would ruin the friendship. But he wanted so much to tell her all of this, just because he couldn't keep it in any longer.

He picked her hand up and looked at it, noticing the red scuff mark where she'd probably tried to break her fall against the hard asphalt of the street. He traced over her knuckles and noted how dry her skin was from too many days of latex gloves and not enough time to think about lotion. He smiled at the bent pinkie finger, wondering when and how it had been broken, and betting she'd set it with popsicle sticks and kept on doing whatever it was that she'd been doing before. He wondered if it was her stint in the rodeo, or playing too rough with her brothers. The scars on her palms he knew were from the rawhide braiding and he wanted to ask her about it, hear her telling him about those moments in her childhood.

He wanted to know everything. All her thoughts, her dreams, her memories. He wanted to know everything that made up his best friend, the good and the bad. He wanted to be a part of whatever was to come.

She moved closer to him and he reached up, pulling the blanket off the back of the couch and draping it over her. He figured he could wait five more minutes before he absolutely had to leave, so he moved his arm so it was around her instead of in front of her. Just five more minutes he would sit here and then he would need to leave. Just five minutes.

He woke up with the birds, his arms aching from being in the same position all night and his legs asleep from the way they'd been propped up on the coffee table. He could feel her stirring next to him and he gave her a little squeeze and pressed a kiss to the part in her hair.

"Mornin'."

"Mornin'."

They sat there for a moment, blinking and trying to reorient themselves to the world.

"You're cute when you're all sleepy and out of it."

"Am I cute other times too?"

"Yeah, pretty cute."

She smiled and moved a little to look at him, leaning up and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"You are the most comfortable pillow in the world. I think that's the first time I've slept through the night in about ten years."

"Really?"

She nodded but didn't give him an explanation.

"I didn't mean to stay," he said after a moment. "I just closed my eyes for five minutes."

"That's okay. You're allowed."

"Do you have to go to work?"

"This afternoon. You?"

"Nah, I'm still off until tomorrow."

"Can I make you breakfast?"

"No, but I can help you make breakfast."

"Okay, deal."

They stood up from the couch and both immediately felt cold and wanted to hold each other again. They refrained and moved into the kitchen, finding eggs and bread and orange juice.

"Scrambled and toast okay?"

"Sure."

They worked together silently until the food was done, then sat down at the table to eat. She rubbed at her eyes and yawned and he gave her a grin.

"It's still early. You should go back to sleep."

"You should too. You look totally wiped."

"I am."

"You'll stay for a while, right?"

"You'll let me?"

She grinned and nodded.

"I haven't seen you in four days. I'm not ready to leave you alone yet."

"What do they call that when two people are of the same mind?"

"Creepy?"

"We're creepy."

"I can live with that."

He smiled at her and wanted to tell her all he had been thinking about, but it suddenly felt like the wrong time. He needed to give her time to decompress from the last few days, get some rest and get her mind into a better groove.

They finished eating and went back to the couch, curling up as they had been before. She rested heavily against him and he tried to get them into a more comfortable position, but it wasn't working.

"Okay, we've got to figure something else out."

"We could go lay in the bed but I think my sheets are still in the washer."

"And I know how you feel about bare mattresses."

She smiled and sat up, giving him an evil grin before pushing him down onto the couch and curling into his side.

"There. You good?"

"I'm good."

"M'kay, don't let me fall off the couch."

"Never. Does your head hurt? It looks swollen."

"It itches. I'll look at it later."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm not worried. Now be quiet, I wanna go to sleep."

"Can we talk later? I have things I want to tell you."

"Ominous?"

"Not at all."

She would have asked more but she was exhausted and couldn't stop her eyes from closing.

"Don't let me sleep too late," she muttered.

"I won't. Go to sleep."

He gave her one last forehead kiss before closing his eyes. They'd talk later. This was more than enough for now.