A/N: Thanks for the response to the three previous stories in the series: "I Will", "I Won't", and "I Can". Here's the next.
Now, I know chances are good that neither Danny nor Lindsay are Episcopalians, but the vows in this story come from the Anglican Service of Celebration and Blessing a Marriage (cribbed from a wedding site). I have no good excuse for that except that these are the words I spoke 24 years ago, and I am feeling nostalgic.
Disclaimer: Characters and setting belong to CBS and the CSI:NY creative team; the plot belongs to me.
I Can't
Lindsay grinned in private satisfaction as Stella stepped out of the police cruiser. Her dress was a perfect blend of the green of her eyes and the blue of her escort's (Lindsay admitted to not being above a touch of sympathetic magic). She watched Don Flack, dashing in his dark tux, step forward to help Stella, said blue eyes darkening dramatically at the sight of her.
Red and blue lights were still flashing, and every cruiser lined up along the roadway through the park still had its sirens blaring. It was as if New York City itself was celebrating with her.
Ted Monroe turned around, his eyes shining like a little boy's at the thrill of the ride, his eyes shining with the unshed tears of a father about to give away his little girl, and said softly, "Well, Peanut? If there was ever a time to make a quick getaway, this might be it!"
Lindsay laughed, "I think the police escort would just chase us down and force us back, don't you think, Baxter?"
The young officer driving the cruiser said with barely a stammer, but a tinge of pink on his cheeks, "Not to mention the ass-kicking Detective Messer would give me for even putting the car into gear, Ma'am."
At the mention of Danny's name, Lindsay sucked in a quick breath. As she stepped out into the cheering crowds of police officers, lab workers, and passing tourists, she dared a quick look around.
There he was, standing slightly up the hill from her, obviously not yet in place, as he should be, near the gazebo where the minister was waiting for them. As she moved through the aisle formed by her escort of police cars, each driver in turn shut off the lights and sirens, leaving her in anticipatory silence and her own inner light. She looked up into his face, and saw him flush painfully red, then go so white she took a step towards him as if to stop him from falling.
She closed her eyes for a moment. She had known it was too good to be true. Even a month ago, that moment he had flipped her onto her back while they were fooling around in his apartment, pinning her down on his bed while he covered her face with kisses, and whispered, "Marry me," in a hoarse voice, she hadn't believed him, merely shrugging and casually saying, "Sure."
He had sat up, hair tousled, still breathing a little hard, but with a light in his eyes, and she had gasped when he pulled a small box from under the pillow and handed it to her a little sheepishly. She had opened it, still half-expecting some joke, and blinked hard to clear the tears from her eyes when she saw the diamond ring gleaming at her in the dim light.
She had looked at him with shock; he had looked back at her with something akin to defiance. "I love you, Montana. I want us to be a family." He had waited a minute, then had cleared his throat. "Uh, Lindsay? Aren't you going to say something?"
She had leaned into him then, kissing his mouth in promise, letting the ring box fall to the bed, taking him into her arms, sinking him quickly in passion.
Only she knew the promise had been one of non-culpability: a promise to not blame him for retreating, for backing away. She had known from the beginning that this would never happen: that when the moment came, something would pull him away.
Now, on a bright spring day in the middle of Central Park in New York City, surrounded by her friends and family, she opened her eyes in loving forgiveness, and saw that he was gone.
Flack had spoken quietly, urgently, to Stella, pressing her hand, and then had disappeared as well.
Stella turned to her, taking in the dark eyes and pale face, and laughed, "Come on, Lindsay. Don't tell me you're going to chicken out now!"
Lindsay looked at her in confusion, and Stella, somehow understanding the fear, if not the month-long apprehension about this moment, put her hands on her friend's shoulders and turned her to look down the hill, past the rows of people sitting in folding metal chairs, past the baskets of spring flowers spilling out over the edges and onto the ground, past the members of the team: Mac holding Peyton's hand, Sheldon smiling widely, Sid smirking at the fulfillment of his prophecy. She looked past them, her family-by-choice; past the Messer family, her family-by-marriage-to-be; and past her mother and brothers, her family-by-birth. She looked past them all as if they had not existed, and all she could see was a pair of blue eyes bright with love, anxiety, desire, and a hint of the expected panic.
"Danny's waiting, Lindsay. Are you ready?" Stella spoke in her ear.
Adam, watching carefully for his cue, performed his magic. The music swelled: the sound of trumpets filled the air. Lindsay could not hear the music for the beating of her heart; her eyes dimmed as Stella stepped out wearing the impossibly high heels she had chosen, stating confidently that Jimmy Choo was incapable of making her feet hurt. She was carrying a simple bouquet of daisies, and her eyes were on Flack's as she walked.
Lindsay could not see any colour: the world had turned grey. She felt her father squeeze her hand, knew he whispered words of encouragement, but as she followed Stella, she felt more like a person going towards her own execution than a bride to her husband.
The frozen feeling lasted until she reached Danny's side, until she felt his hand take hers, and colour and sound flooded back into her world as she saw the smile light his face, filling his eyes. He mouthed, "I love you," and her lips trembled.
She missed much of what the minister said, hearing only scattered phrases, "We have come together here in the sight of God, and in the presence of this congregation…" then "And it was ordained for the mutual companionship, help, and comfort, that the one ought to have of the other, both in prosperity and adversity." The warmth of Danny's hand, the warmth of the sun, filled her.
The minister delivered the charge to the community and the couple, asking them if there were "any just cause why they may not be joined together." Lindsay stiffened a moment, and Danny reassuringly squeezed her hand in his.
Turning to Danny first, the minister said, "Daniel, will you have Lindsay as your wife, to live together, as God has ordained, in the holy state of matrimony? Will you love her, cherish her, honor and protect her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, be faithful to her, as long as you both shall live?"
Danny's voice was strong and confident as he answered, "I will."
The minister smiled at him, then looked at Lindsay, repeating the question. Her voice shook, but she answered, "I will." Danny squeezed her hand again.
Turning to the congregation, the minister asked, "Who brings this woman to be married to this man?"
Ted kissed his daughter, and with his voice cracking, said, "Her mother and I do." Then he stepped back to sit beside Diane, whose eyes were already full of tears.
The minister said, "Marriages are between two people, but they do not occur in isolation. The hearts of others create a secure and loving place in which a couple can grow into a family. Family and friends of Daniel and Lindsay, do you give your blessing to this marriage?"
Above the crowd, she could hear Mac's strong voice, Peyton's English one, Stella's beside her, Don's beside Danny. She could hear her father and mother, as if renewing their own vows. She could hear Antony Messer's deep voice, echoed by Emilia Messer's softer one. "We do." Then Louie's voice saying plaintively, "We do what?" and his mother's soothing "Hush."
Lindsay could feel the tension flood through and then leave Danny.
"Please face each other." They linked hands. Danny repeated the vows after the minister, his eyes never leaving Lindsay's. She could see the tears welling up, as he said the words, "… until we are parted by death."
Too close. Too close to the heart, those words.
When it was her turn, she took a deep breath, determined to make it through without faltering, without leaving any doubts. She made it through "to be my husband, according to God's holy ordinance: to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer," but choked on the words, "in sickness and in health." They had had so much sickness: sickness of spirit, sickness of soul, sickness of body. A look into Danny's eyes steadied her, and she finished, "to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. And to this I pledge you my word."
Her word she could give him, whole-heartedly. As she had given him her whole heart the moment he had walked in the courthouse in Montana, and had filled her eyes and her life with a healing light.
The minister smiled at them again, as each reached a hand out to the other's face to wipe the tears that had fallen unchecked during the exchange of vows, before looking at Don and Stella. "The rings?"
Lindsay giggled a little as, with an eloquent grimace, Flack handed over the ring he had been carrying with increasing anxiety since that morning when Danny had handed it to him. Stella, with less clowning, handed Lindsay the ring for Danny.
The minister blessed the rings, and then Danny placed the ring on her finger, reciting "With this ring I wed you, with my body I worship you; with all that I am and all that I have I honor you: in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen."
Lindsay's eyes filled with tears again as she gently pushed the ring over knuckles still disfigured by the brutal boot of a mobster, repeating the words.
There were prayers and readings and a solo by one of Danny's cousins who sang like an angel, and the signing of the register in the new and unfamiliar name, but all of Lindsay's senses were concentrated on Danny: his scent, his breathing, the feel of his hand around hers. A perfect fit.
The minister spoke the blessing, turned to the congregation, and said, "May I present Mr. and Mrs. Danny and Lindsay Messer." And they kissed, that union of lips mirroring the union of lives in front of families and friends.
They did not run down the aisle; instead, they were simply swamped by the embraces and tears and congratulations of the people who had stood by them for so long. Chairs were moved back, food was brought out, Adam turned up the music and the party began.
It was hours later, under a moonlit sky, that Danny held Lindsay and the whole world in his arms, still swaying on the impromptu dance floor in the middle of the lawn. His weary little wife – he would never tire of saying that word – leaned against him, her shoes long kicked off, pins pulled out of her hair, lipstick kissed off in slow, drugging kisses that promised more to come. She looked up into his eyes, absolutely secure, at last, in the peace she could see settled there.
"Is there anything we need to do before we leave? Anything you can think of that you wished we had done differently?" he whispered into her ear as his lips wandered along her jaw, making her shiver.
"No, I can't." She smiled at him, the open smile he loved lighting her up like a flame. "I can't think about anything but you."