it's hard to argue when/ you won't stop making sense/ but my tongue still misbehaves/ and it keeps digging my own grave
-Snow Patrol, Hands Open
They were 43 minutes into the New Year and already it sucked.
It was also damn cold here outside the bar where various members of the local precinct and the crime lab were celebrating at their annual party. From inside came the scream of The Who as they broke into an old song that was strangely popular again.
Who are you, who, who, who, who?
But here Danny was, out in the artificially lit street with her, surrounded by drunken revellers, singing and laughing as they made their way home, or to another party. He had never felt more alone.
Her dress had been badly stained when Adam, arguing loudly about deoxyribonucleic acid, spilt his drink into her lap. He had blubbered his apology with tears in his eyes and she had forgiven him instantly.
It was only Danny she was angry with tonight, though for what he wasn't quite sure.
She pulled her coat tighter around herself. "Danny, don't start," she said, her voice full of irritation.
"Start what, Montana? How can I start anythin' with you always cuttin' me off at the knees?"
They were both legally sober, but bitting words were intoxicating.
"Fuck off," she said, pushing past him to stalk down the street.
His longer stride ate up the momentary distance between them. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" he yelled, grabbing her arm.
"Let go of me!" She pulled away, a little unsteady in her two inch heals.
Shocked and ashamed, he let her go and backed up a step. He would take that look in her eyes with him to his grave. He had scared her- she was scared of him.
After a moment she turned and walked away. The drunken bystanders decided nothing interesting was going to happen and moved onto other things.
He drew in a couple of deep breaths. That ache in his chest, like a hole in his heart, the one he thought he had buried with Louie, was back. He tried to force it out with each breath, but it remained, festering somewhere in his ribcage.
He caught up to her on the subway and followed her home, to keep her safe. He never forgot that things lurked in the night of his city. But he could ensure no harm came to her tonight.
He waited outside her building until lights came on in the third window from the right on the fourth floor. As he turned to go he nearly ran into a glassy eyed young man clutching a potted cactus in his arms. He gave Danny a startled look and ran off past him down the street.
Danny had to laugh at that. It helped with the burning behind his eyes.
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Well, how did I do? Did I deserve second or what?