A/N: So, this took me a little longer than I thought to finish, and it ended up being slightly longer than expected. It's fluff based on the throwaway line Danny said in LA when Mindy was sleeptalking. I wanted to see him reacting to it on those "other" times. :D
The first time it happened, he didn't really know her that well. It was in that time before their boundaries had gotten all fuzzy and seemingly permeable.
She was still an intern, run ragged by the endless hours of rounds and studying. Back then the only thing he really knew about her was that she wasn't shy about offering up answers to their attending, a broad smile beaming across her face when she was right, which was pretty often. Before she'd come along, he'd usually been the first to pipe up when faced with a conundrum. It kind of irked him that she was just as quick on her toes, and a social butterfly on top of that. It hardly seemed fair.
He avoided her. It wasn't hard to sit at a different table in the hospital cafeteria, or to take a seat on the opposite side of whatever lecture hall they happened to be stuck in. But that damn on-call room was unavoidable. The cramped space packed with bunk beds like some weird adult version of summer camp.
The on-call room was how he knew she slept with a bright pink sleep mask, sprawled across the tiny twin bed, drooling all over the place, feet dangling off one end, not bothering to slip off her tennis shoes, because really, who had time to take their shoes off?
And, on top of everything else, she always managed to get there before him, securing the coveted bottom bunk for herself, making it necessary for him to climb up on top of the creaky thing, putting him uncomfortably close to the yellowed ceiling tiles. And yeah, that irked him a little too.
But, the first time it happened, all those little transgressions he'd put in her 'cons' column weren't able to erase the concern he instinctively felt when he felt her thrashing around below him. He peeked over the edge of his mattress, gazing down at her as she jerkily fought off some imagined attacker in her sleep, grunting out inarticulate words.
At first, it amused him, this weird little interruption of her sleep cycle, but his amusement quickly faded as her breaths quickened, the noises issuing from her becoming panicked. A part of him softened toward her, and he swooped down from his perch, gently nudging her shoulder. "Hey."
She was a heavy sleeper, and his light touch and half whispered word had little effect, so he shoved a little harder, and said, "Hey, wake up."
That elicited a gasp and a couple of sleep sedated swings from her arms. He jumped back. "Watch it!"
Sitting upright, she slowly pulled her sleep mask off, a look of abject terror still on her face. Blinking a couple of times, she slowly realized where she was. "Did you wake me up?"
He nodded, unsure of whether or not she deemed this a good thing.
Still half asleep, she drew her legs up beneath her. She looked so much like a child to him, surprisingly petite. He'd never realized it before. Her huge personality filled up whatever room she was in, but right now he felt like he was seeing a part of herself she kept hidden. She wasn't awake enough to put on the confidence she wore like an invincibility cloak.
Her sleep thickened voice tore him away from his thoughts. "Do you have any juice?"
"Juice? Uh, not at the moment, no..." He drew out the last syllable, masking his amusement over her random request.
She rubbed her face, yawning hugely as she looked back over at him, not saying a word. He jumped in again. "You were having a bad dream or something, thrashing around like a maniac."
She nodded, her eyes still heavily lidded. "Yeah, that happens sometimes... when I'm stressed."
"Stressed?" It surprised him. She marched around the hospital like she ran the place, waving her perfect marks and evaluations in everyone's faces, flirting with the other interns. He'd always assumed everything was easy for her.
"Yeah. I'm trying to pick a specialty, and I know what I want to do, but there's all this pressure from different people. I mean, I want to do obstetrics and gynecology but, it seems so expected, and my parents kind of have this idea that I'm gonna go into neurology, which I mean, can you think of anything more boring?" She swept the mess of tangled hair falling from her ponytail out of her face.
He felt one corner of his mouth pull up, as his eyes crinkled. "I don't know about boring, but yeah I kind of get what you're saying. You want to do something a little more hands on, you're a people person." He swallowed, realizing this was the most he'd ever said to her, or any of the other interns really. "If it helps, I've already chosen my specialty, and coincidentally it's obstetrics and gynecology. It seems like something you'd be great at. I'm sure your patients would love you."
He was grateful for the dark. The heat of embarrassment was creeping up his neck. He didn't know what had come over him. He wasn't a sharer. Giving people encouragement wasn't his wheelhouse. He attempted to slip his nervous hands in his pockets, belatedly realizing he was still wearing scrubs. He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling the need to put some space between them again. "Anyway, uh, I guess I'll go crash on the couch in the lounge, since you're such a restless sleeper."
Without waiting for her reply he swiftly exited the dark little room. His abrupt shift in tone, seeping with irritation, had Mindy frowning. She slipped her mask back on, curling back up on the mattress, sleep quickly overtaking her once again as she put her surly colleague out of her mind. The restless anxiety inexplicably disappearing, she slept soundly, dreaming of things to come.
The second time it happened, she was in his bed, of all places, curled up next to him, snoring softly, one hand still sitting in the bowl of popcorn on her lap, the credits to some horror flick rolling across the screen.
The moment she fell asleep, he began to look for ways to quietly extricate himself from his bed. He'd teased her about sleeping on the couch, had her convinced that he wouldn't give up his own comfortable mattress for her. In reality, he knew from the moment he'd agreed to let her spend the night, that she'd be the one sprawled out in the queen sized bed, probably drooling all over his pillows.
There was a part of him, one that had only recently made itself known, that wanted nothing more than to turn off the television, flick off his bedside lamp, and pull her into his arms. Only hours before he'd felt that particular sensation for the first time, and now he craved it.
But, pulling her into his arms was not an option. It had only happened earlier under the pretense of some farcical game they'd been playing to spare Amy's feelings. Still, he felt a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, because now, for the first time in all the years they'd known each other, it seemed like they were on the same page. Her nervous little confession about having a crush on someone she worked with played over and over again in his head.
The possibility of Mindy setting sights on him had been terrifying at first. He'd seen her go after the things she wanted with singleminded tenacity. She almost always got what she wanted in the end. The smile he'd been wearing before broadened a bit. It felt strangely pleasant being the recipient of that ardor.
He quietly slipped out of the bed, reclaiming the precariously perched bowl of popcorn, dusting off the errant kernels littering the bed spread. He'd have to clean tomorrow.
Flicking off the tv, he walked around to her side of the bed. He reached up to turn off the lamp and paused, looking down at her. There was a little catch his chest, and he swallowed hard, brushing away the surprising feeling before he put out the lamp.
Turning to leave, he was drawn back by the sound of a petulant whine, almost like a child upset over something trivial. He didn't think much of it, but then he heard the restless jerking and unintelligible words. She was having a bad dream. For a moment, he thought maybe he should just let her ride it out. It's not like she actually was a child, surely she could deal with her own bad dreams.
But then he remembered what she'd said, all that time ago, that she only had these sleep-talk inducing bad dreams when she was stressed. Her breathing increased it's pace, and he found himself biting his bottom lip as debated whether or not to intervene. She made the decision for him, the inarticulate little noises changing into a soft little cry. Nope, that was it.
He rushed back to her side, sitting along the edge of the mattress. His hand found it's way to her shoulder, shaking her awake. "Mindy. Wake up."
She gasped, lunging forward she clung to his arms, eyes wide. "Danny?" She looked so relieved to see him there.
He nodded at her, as if seeing him weren't enough confirmation. "Bad dream?"
She squinted, as if trying to remember. "Um, I don't actually know." Suddenly realizing she was clutching at him, she let go and leaned back against his pillows. "Must have been."
He was about to get up and leave, but something stopped him. "Are you... worried about something?" He winced, hoping she didn't realize he still remembered their brief interaction from so long ago.
She cocked her head, looking at him strangely. "Uh, yeah... something, actually, that thing I told you about earlier. I'm still a little... unsure about it all."
He felt his heart in his throat, the opportunity to be bold with her flashing before him. The brief wave of determination that coursed through him quickly abated. Instead he took a more circuitous route. He smiled. "You're Mindy Lahiri, 'unsure' is not a word I would use to describe you in any circumstance. I'm sure, that... 'thing' will come out just the way you want it to."
She yawned, her eyes drifting shut, a pleasant expression on her face. "Yeah, you're probably right." The words came out softly as she drifted back over the edge of sleep.
In the dark he could barely see her face, the only illumination coming from the street lamp outside his bedroom window, but he thought maybe she looked relaxed again. He took a deep breath and collected one of his pillows, making his way to sleep on the couch. He felt like doors were being opened all around him, and walking through them might be the best thing he'd ever done.
The third time it happened, they were sitting close together, legs cramped in the economy seats of an airplane headed to California, her head dropped down on his shoulder as she snored inelegantly, the sleep mask firmly in place.
It was unfortunate, really, the bad luck that had him seated right next to her. He felt the acid churning in his stomach, surely the makings of an ulcer. Great.
She was dating Cliff, and for all he knew things were going swimmingly. Three whole months the pair had been grabbing lunch together, going out on all of these impossibly cute little dates. She regaled him with all the details, even though he tried his hardest to escape being that kind of confidante.
He sighed, looking down at her. He had been so close to taking a leap, to confessing things to her that he'd barely admitted to himself.
He felt a scowl on his face, one that had been there so often since Christmas that complete strangers had taken to stopping him in the street and asking him if everything was alright.
He sighed, supposing it was a good thing that she'd so happily uttered Cliff's name when she did, saving him from the embarrassment of misunderstanding. Still, he felt the hot flush of embarrassment in his face anytime he thought about it.
She moved against his shoulder, and he glanced down at her, noting that it only mildly grossed him out when she drooled in her sleep. He felt the expression on his face soften, in spite of his determination to keep his feelings for her at bay.
He saw her brightly painted lips twitch down in a frown, pursing as she mumbled something to herself. As with the other times, nothing she said in her sleep was ever articulate enough to understand, yet Danny felt himself leaning a little closer, just to hear more clearly.
Catching himself, he retreated, pretending to concentrate on his newspaper. He was done inserting himself into these situations.
She jumped a little, swinging her hands up to her face, batting at some invisible irritant, her mumbling getting louder. This time one phrase did jump out at him, a sad little 'Why not?' issuing from her lips, sounding suspiciously on the verge of tears. His resolve crumbled.
Swallowing the lump in his throat he reached down and grabbed her by the elbow, shaking her gently. "Mindy, wake up. You're doing that thing again."
She fought him for a second before regaining consciousness, one hand slipping the mask up and over her head, the other wiping at the drool at the corner of her mouth. She stared at him, the fog of sleep still in her eyes. "Do you have any animal crackers?"
"What? No, why would.." He rolled his eyes, turning away from her, fully expecting her to continue to harass him about snacks. When she remained strangely subdued, he sneaked a sidelong glance.
She was slumped in her seat, staring vacantly ahead, an odd expression settled across her groggy features. He felt himself being drawn in once again. "Hey, you okay?"
Her neck jerked around, as if suddenly realizing where she was. "Uh, yeah, I'm fine. Everything's fine. No problems here." Her voice trailed off, a little frown on her face. "Go back to reading your newspaper."
He could tell that something was bothering her. From the moment she'd stirred in her sleep he'd known. "Mindy." His tone was chiding, letting her know that he knew her better than she gave him credit for. "Obviously something is wrong."
She narrowed her eyes at him, sighing as she gave into the urge to confide in him. "It's Cliff."
Danny felt a little surge of selfish happiness before he squelched it, reminding himself that her unhappiness should never please him. "Uh, what did he do? I always kind of thought he was a jerk."
She frowned, cocking her head to the side as she studied his face. "He didn't DO anything, and he's not really being a jerk... In fact, he's NOT a jerk at all. I just... I'm doing things all wrong, like always." She sighed on the last words, closing her eyes. "I told him I wanted to move in together."
"Move in together?" The question came out a little more loudly than he'd intending. Checking his volume, he proceeded. "Uh, don't you think that's a little... fast?"
"Danny, it's not fast. Casey and I were living in a tent together, ready to get married after three months."
He snorted. "And look how well that worked out." He regretted the bitter words as soon as they left his mouth, wincing inwardly.
"Oh, wow. Real nice, Danny. I don't even know why I bothered." She crossed her arms, turning away from him since ignoring him was the most she could do under the circumstances.
She felt a light touch on the back of her hand as he drew her back toward him. There was a contrite expression on his face that served to soften her, if only a little. "Hey. I'm sorry." He bit his bottom lip, trying to think of the right thing to say. "I just meant, you can't measure one relationship by the milestones of another. Cliff isn't Casey. He's settled into his life, set in his ways a little. The prospect of changing so fast might... well, it might scare him a little."
He wasn't exactly talking about Cliff. He barely knew the man, but he knew from experience how overwhelming Mindy could be. "Just give him some time." He swallowed the lump in his throat. The idea of Mindy and Cliff living together bothered him, but he couldn't stand to see her so hopeless.
She looked down at her hand, the one he was still absentmindedly touching. She nodded silently, a little smile on her face as she turned her palm up, capturing his fingers with her own, squeezing briefly before letting go. "Thanks, Danny."
She yawned, her fatigue settling over her once more. She settled her mask back over her eyes, her lips curving upward ever so slightly as she drifted off again, taking only a few moments for her head to find Danny's shoulder.
The fourth time it happened was the worst time. Only a week had passed since Danny made the cowardly decision to put a stop to what was blossoming between them. It was all getting out of control, spiraling so far from his grasp that he had to back away, but that didn't mean he wasn't hurting, that he didn't second guess his decision on a daily basis.
That self doubt was at it's worst when she was near, when she'd quietly shut herself in her office to do paperwork, pointedly ignoring anyone else's invitations for lunch. When she stood in the elevator beside him, silently watching the lights over the door indicating the floors they were passing.
He could take a hint. He knew she wasn't ready to let him back in her life. He knew she needed some time. It's just that he wasn't a mind reader, a psychoanalyst. He didn't know how much time she needed. He found himself approaching her every so often, a tentative olive branch extended in the form of a pastry from her favorite bakery, or a hesitant request for a patient consult.
She rebuffed him at every turn, each refusal stabbing at him a little. Every attempt to avoid looking at him, weighing on his chest making it impossible to breathe.
She didn't talk to him about anything other than work, and soon he began to realize that he was losing her. It should have made him angry, made him want to fight for her friendship, but there was a part of him that thought she might have been right to shut him out. She didn't have a place in her life for someone like him, someone who couldn't let go of past failures, someone so frozen by fear. So, he withdrew.
He avoided the places he knew she'd be, behaving as professionally as possible at the office. It began to look a lot like it had when she'd first come to Shulman & Associates.
The hospital was different though. It was a place where personal boundaries were blurred. Many nights were spent sprawled out in the lounge, watching bad tv and waiting for patients. The hospital was like a home away from home. He ate there, slept there, changed in the locker room. It's a part of every doctor's life, and Danny had never disliked it, until now.
It was like he took her home with him, every time he stopped by the cafeteria and saw her sitting at one of the dingy little tables, patient files spread out, a bowl of soup half eaten in front of her. A reminder of an intimate moment he'd been privy to in his own home.
The lounge itself was the worst. She didn't even have to be there for him to be reminded of her. She'd left her mark in the drool stains on the couch, the finger worn buttons of the remote. Even the ominously flickering light of the vending machine hit him like a punch in the gut. He avoided the place like the plague.
But, tonight he was exhausted, having just went through a difficult delivery, waiting on the nurses to get the files back to him. He didn't have any other option, he needed rest.
He made his way to lounge, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw her lying there, asleep. He was paralyzed. This was the first time he'd seen her sleeping since he'd broken things off. Longing tore at him. There wasn't anything he wanted more than to go and sit by her, pull her into his arms, to feel her again, but he couldn't do it.
Sighing, he turned away, his hand lingering briefly on the doorframe. Just as he broke contact with the cool surface, prepared to step away, he heard it. A soft keening noise, accompanied by the rustle of fabric swishing along the coarse material of the sofa.
His gaze was drawn back to her thrashing form. She kicked her feet out, pushing away at the couch, swinging her arms up in front of her face. He could hear panicked gasps in between little cries. He'd never seen her so distraught in sleep before.
He forgot about the constriction in his chest, the pain in his throat when he looked at her. He rushed to her side, kneeling in the floor beside the sofa. Before he could move to wake her, she swung an arm out, catching him right in the face with her open hand.
He grabbed her wrist in mid air. "I guess I deserved that." She didn't wake up, instead her face crumpled, the keening noise starting again. "Mindy, wake up, you're having a bad dream."
She stilled, slowly opening her eyes, blinking as she tried to focus her vision. "Danny?" Her eyes moved from his face to the hand loosely encircling her wrist. Unlike times in the past, her anxiety wasn't alleviated when woken up. Her face crumpled again, and she bit her bottom lip to keep from moaning again. She gasped, "What are you doing?"
Her tone was accusatory, and it cut right through Danny. He dropped her wrist and rocked back on his heels. "N-nothing. You just.. I was just... walking by, and you... well, you must have been having a bad dream..." His heart was in his throat, he couldn't handle the sheen of tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Mindy. I just wanted to wake you up, to make sure you were ok."
She blinked, and the moisture pooled in her eyes cascaded down her cheeks. "It was a bad dream, but waking up didn't help." She swallowed, suddenly looking embarrassed. She tried to focus her attention on anything other than Danny. She swallowed. "I'm fine, you can leave." Her voice sounded accusatory.
Her abrupt manner crushed him a little, leaving a sore spot in the middle of his chest. "Don't be like that."
"Like what, Danny?" She sighed, closing her eyes.
"Like you wish I would disappear. I'm trying here, Mindy. I want so badly for things to be like they were before."
"Yeah? Well, they're not. You can't offer me something that I've thought about for a really long time, and then snatch it back because you suddenly decide that I'm not the kind of girl you see yourself with."
He frowned. "That isn't what happened. You know that isn't what happened."
"Oh, really? Because I distinctly remember you kissing me until I couldn't see straight while in the privacy of your home, but not even being able to admit you were seeing me to anyone we know." She pressed her lips together tightly, quelling the urge to cry. "And, the worst part is, I found myself thinking 'I get it. I'm not his type. He's embarrassed. I'm not willowy enough, not delicate enough.' And screw you for making me feel that way. That's not how I am."
He was angry now. "I never said any of that. I don't feel that way, couldn't in a million years."
She rolled her eyes, looking away from him. She tried to hide the hurt in her nonchalant behavior, but he could see her chin still quivering, her eyes still glistening. "Then you go and feed me some line about not wanting to lose me as a friend. I saw right through it." She swallowed. "But, it's fine, you got your way, and you don't even have to pretend I'm your best friend. I'll save you that trouble."
His nostrils flared. "It wasn't a line! I swear to God, Mindy. These past few weeks have been the worst of my entire life because my friend, my BEST friend, my ONLY friend won't talk to me, and I don't know what to do with myself."
"Sure."
"It wasn't!" He growled in his frustration, clenching his teeth. "And as for being ashamed of you, I feel sick that you think that's the reason I wouldn't tell people. I'm amazed that you're into me. It all felt so fragile, like some interfering asshole could upset the whole thing and send it crashing down. I just wanted to have you all to myself for a little longer. Things spun out of control, and people kept saying things, reminding me what a disaster I am with women. I thought it would just be better this way, that I wouldn't end up hurting you. You're too important to me for that."
She didn't respond, merely staring at him eyes wide, her lips pursed, determined not to give in.
Danny looked down, studying the mottled pattern of the tiles, the shiny antiseptic looking surface threw back his reflection. The words began to come out slowly. "I'm sorry. I was wrong. About us, about you." He felt tears prick behind his eyes and stopped to take a deep breath, blinking them away. "I know you have those bad dreams when you're upset or worried. When I saw you in here, thrashing around, I had this twisted hope that I was the cause of it all, that you still felt something, that there was still hope for me and you."
She looked at him sadly, releasing a long tired sigh.
"I've never told anyone this, but I have them too, Mindy. After my dad left I had them all the time, but I grew out of it, and thought I'd never have to deal with them again... until recently." He looked up at her, afraid he'd revealed too much. He rushed on. "I know how scary they can be, how real. I just wanted to wake you up."
He ventured to look at her again, his eyes widening when he saw the fire in her eyes. "Damn it, Danny. Yes, your were wrong, about us, about me, but most of all you were wrong about yourself. You deserve so much more than you think you can have." Her hands found there way to his face, brushing her thumb against his face, swiping at the moisture trailing down his cheeks. "I'm not the only one who needs to wake up."
Danny shook his head, trying his hardest to find a way to breathe. He pulled back, choking out his words. "Mindy, I don't... It's not..." He gave up trying to be composed, breaking finally. "I'll hurt you. It's the way I'm made. Everyone gets hurt. I'm bitter and incapable of change. It's not worth hurting you."
She clenched her jaw, grabbing at his scrubs, bunching them up at his neck as she pulled him closer. She was done being sad, she was angry. "How can you be so thick? The only thing that's hurting me is this cowardice. Not having you hurts worse than any argument that we'd get into." She was breathing heavily. "And what are you talking about? You think you can't change? First of all, I don't want you to change, Danny, not at all. I want to see more of the person that I know is in here." She poked forcefully at his chest. "Because I get glimpses of him sometimes, and he melts my heart, and makes me see visions of the future." Her tears had dried. "It hurts me that you think so little of the person I love."
He stared at her, his mouth parted in disbelief. "Love?" The word settled on him like a revelation, a pinprick of light in a pitch dark room. "Do you really..." He couldn't finish the sentence.
She nodded. "I do love you, and it may seem like I give out my affection easily. I know I've tossed the word around pretty freely in the past, but this is different. This isn't some giddy feeling making me lightheaded, it isn't swelling violins or melodramatic declarations. This is a deep abiding feeling. It makes me think of endless nights spent together curled up on the couch watching 'House Hunters' and 'America's Next Top Model.' It makes me think of decades spent lying my head on your chest at night, of the endless arguments we'll get into and the endless makeups sessions. It makes me think that there's no one else who could ever take your place in my life, because I was lucky enough to find this feeling with my best friend."
He opened his mouth to reply, but she rushed on. "I don't know if you feel the same, if you can let yourself feel the same, but -"
He cut her off, encircling her with his arms, pulling her too him tightly. "Of course I love you, if I didn't, I wouldn't have ran. I was scared. I didn't think it was possible that you already felt the same. I thought I was sparing you future heartache."
He kissed her, desperately, breathing her in, seeking to fill the bottomless hollowness he'd been feeling since he'd left her. Slipping his arms beneath her, he scooped her up, whirling around so he was sitting on the couch with her in his lap. For a moment, he just held her, simply relishing the feel of her in his arms. "Mindy?"
She nodded, murmuring against his neck. "Yeah?"
"Are we going to try this again?"
She nodded again, but didn't say anything, merely looking up at him with wide eyes, asking him the same question back. He echoed the motion, feeling a grin spread across his face, one of the broad ones that took over every muscle in his face.
The stress from the past few weeks fell away from him, the exhaustion creeping back, a welcome weariness now that their fraught conversation had come to such a pleasant resolution. The warmth of her in his arms contributed to the drowsiness enveloping him. He failed to stifle the yawn that broke the surface.
She laughed. "Am I boring you?" Before the last word left her mouth she felt her throat open, that inescapable urge overcoming her too as she stretched out against him.
He leaned back on the sofa, pulling her with him. "I haven't been sleeping well, since..."
She sighed against him, already floating away from consciousness. "Me neither."
He squeezed her gently, letting his breathing sync with hers, closing his eyes. "I think I have a really important announcement to make to the whole office tomorrow." He fell asleep with a satisfied yet crooked little smile on his face.
The fifth time it happened Danny was asleep too. The fluffy down comforter draped over them, their sock clad feet tangled together. It was unusually cold, the heat in their new place was giving them fits.
Mindy scooted up closer to Danny. He radiated heat like a furnace and she tucked her feet between his knees, sighing deeply in her sleep as she snuggled into his neck.
Her cold nose against his skin woke Danny up, sending a shiver down his spine. Smiling to himself, he slid his hands around her, settling them at her lower back, slipping them under the loose fabric of her flannel top.
The skin to skin contact sent a pleasurable warmth through his limbs, beginning to lull him back to sleep. She shifted again beneath his touch. He felt her fingers curl into his shirt, pulling him closer to her, mumbling something into his chest.
He frowned, holding his breath for a second, hoping she would settle back into sleep. She twisted in his arms, craning her neck away from him, grunting in frustration as she pulled an arm free from the confines of their blankets. She reached out, waving off some invisible foe, more incoherent words pouring from her mouth, the last of which sounded much like his name.
He shook her gently, raising one hand to her face, brushing away the locks of hair. "Min, wake up."
He felt the tension drain from her muscles, and watched as she slowly opened her eyes. "Bad dream?"
She nodded. "I guess. I mean, I don't even remember what it was."
She snuggled back into him, patiently waiting while he rearranged the blankets around them. She smiled. "I'm so glad you are a million degrees. I'll never need an electric blanket ever again."
He laughed. "Those things are a fire hazard anyway." He looked down at her face. She had laid her head on his chest, tucking her hand underneath her chin to look up at him. He could see an almost imperceptible line of worry across her features. "Mindy? Is something bothering you?"
She closed her eyes for a second before peeking back up at him. "It's silly, really."
He hugged her to him. "Come on."
She grasped his hand in hers, dragging it down her body, resting it on her swollen abdomen. She'd never been this big in her life, and she loved every second of it. "She'll be here soon."
Danny's throat closed, tears of joy threatening to fill his eyes. "Yeah." He could already picture their daughter. She would be a cuddly little baby with dusky skin and soft black hair, who would grow into a beautiful and exuberant child. He was already thinking about taking her to ballet classes and baseball games. He was already in love.
Mindy looked away from him, the worry appearing once more. "Danny.. what if... " She stopped, unable to finish the thought. "I don't have any experience with these things. What if..." Her voice broke, suddenly thick with emotion. "What if I'm not good at it? What if she cries and I don't know why? What if I'm a bad mom?"
His eyes grew impossibly soft, looking at her with a wealth of emotion. "Min, I've seen the way you are with people you love. You'll do anything for them. That's all you need. The rest of it will either come naturally or you'll figure it out. We'll figure it out."
She let out a long sigh. Being reminded that he was in this with her made her worries seem a lot less rational. Surely the two of them combined would have all the knowledge and love needed to raise a child.
Scooting up, she placed a few kisses along the column of his neck, resting briefly in the hollow beneath his ear. She whispered to him. "I love you."
He smiled, closing his eyes he concentrated on the feeling of her breath against his skin. He began to drift, saying one last thing before succumbing to slumber. "I love you too."