Disclaimer: They are not mine, even though I have watched them more in the last week than I have slept. And that's the truth.
Spoilers: Eh, season 3.
A/N: This story is for all these fanficing friends of mine that I have never met. We all found each other, like the island of misfit toys, and all at a time when we needed it most. Freaky. We need to have a huge reunion, which would be just a regular union by definition, but reunion sounds so much less creepy.
"C'mon, Montana," Danny urged, pulling on her elbow. "You can sleep all day tomorrow."
Lindsay sighed and tugged her coat on, then pulled her hair out of the collar. She'd been back from Montana long enough to stop by the lab and get some files to work on, and Danny had found her and begged her to come out to dinner with the rest of the team. She was jet-lagged and emotionally drained, but one look at his face and she had to say yes. She got the feeling he didn't give puppy eyes to just anyone.
He smiled triumphantly when she nodded, then wrapped his arm around her shoulder and led her out to his car. They drove to the restaurant in relative quiet, both lost in their own thoughts. It was nice to have a comfortable silence.
"I'll take you home in exactly two hours, Montana. I promise."
"Oh, don't worry about it. Sleep is for wimps."
He chuckled and parked the car outside the old family run restaurant. They made their way inside and found everyone else already having taken over a booth in the back. Lindsay slid in next to Stella while Danny opted for the other side, next to Flack.
"Hey kiddo," Stella greeted, giving Lindsay a slightly awkward, sitting down, side hug. "How are you doing?"
"Better. It's good to be home."
"We're glad you're back."
She dropped her voice a little lower so no one else would hear, which really wasn't necessary, since the guys were arguing about the latest sports lineup anyway.
"You didn't know Danny was going to go out there, did you?"
"Not a clue. He just showed up in the courtroom."
"Hmm."
"What hmm?"
"Oh, nothing."
Lindsay smirked and rolled her eyes.
"You know guys, Montana tried to convince me she was a bad girl," Danny said, taking a breadstick out of the basket and tearing a bite off.
"I didn't say I was a bad girl, Danny. I said I did a lot of stupid things."
"She claims she skitched on the back of a police car."
"I did!" Lindsay exclaimed. "It was the dead of winter, we had been out of school on a break for weeks, I was bored out of my mind, and my brother dared me. End of story."
"I hate to ask this," Stella started. "But what's skitching?"
"It's where you grab on to the back bumper of a car and let it pull you down an icy road. It's very, very stupid," Adam explained, shaking his head.
"Sounds it."
"Well it was. I ended up in a ditch. Covered in icy ditch water. I never did it again."
"Still don't make you a bad girl."
"Why don't you believe me?"
"Because you just don't seem the type."
"Watch out, Messer, she's taking great offense," Flack said with a chuckle. Lindsay shot a glare in his direction.
"You guys think I'm just the all-American, 4-H, cheerleading, bible camping, sheltered country girl, don't you?"
"Pretty much," Flack said with a shrug.
"Montana, you gotta make us believe it."
"I have no proof. I mean, I can tell you stories, and you'll have to take my word for it, but that's the best I can do."
"I think we can all agree that we trust you. Go."
"Fine. I stole a car once."
"No."
"It was my uncle's car, and my cousin was the one who actually drove it, but I was the one who thought of it in the first place, and I was the one who lifted the key and apparently, this is enough to get a shiny pair of cuffs."
"You were cuffed, Montana?"
"Yeah. My dad is best friends with the sheriff, so it didn't stick."
"That the worst you got?"
She sighed and shook her head.
"Okay fine. When I was 16, me and my friends snuck into a bar. And I guess that doesn't sound so bad, but we got in a fight with this really huge redneck and by the time we got out of there the bar was completely trashed. Someone found out that I was there and they called my parents, who then locked me out of the house."
"What was this bar fight over?"
"I called his girlfriend a skank."
"Girls got a mouth on her."
"Well, she was a skank. She stole my boyfriend in middle school, plus the guy in the bar was five years older than her, plus she was already pregnant at 16 by some other guy. What else would you call her?"
"I can think of a couple things."
"I may have been going through my wild period, but I was still pretty innocent. Skank was the worst thing that came to mind."
"So you stole a car, got into a bar fight when you weren't even old enough to be in a bar and I am assuming you've been cow tipping."
"I've never been cow tipping. That is a stereotype. Real country kids have cow dung fights."
"That is disgusting," Mac chuckled, shaking his head.
"Only if they're not all the way dry," Lindsay answered with a shrug.
"Surely, you grew up in a very different world."
"And proud of it. You New Yorkers don't do anything fun."
"What's in Montana? Fields and fields?"
"Messer, you have never even played Warp Speed."
"What's Warp Speed?"
"Middle of the night, snowy backroads, driving as fast as you can with your high beams on. Warp Speed."
"That has no point."
"Except to thrill and delight. And totally freak out your parents when they find out what you were doing."
"Oooh, livin' on the wild side," Flack said with a chuckle.
"Cliff diving into the lake, playing chicken, letting your neighbor's bull loose. What did you ever do, Flack, skip ballroom dancing lessons?"
Stella laughed so hard she snorted and had to lay her head down on the table. Flack glared at her and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Don't pout, Don. You can't tangle with a bad girl then get upset when it comes back to bite you."
"Thanks a lot, Mac."
They all laughed at the look on Flack's face, until he broke into a grin.
"Okay, okay, she zinged me. But you know now I gotta get her back."
"I'm shaking in my boots. If this is going to turn into a war, you'd better watch yourself. You have no idea how much damage I can do with lunch meat."
"You'd bologna his car?" Adam asked, half in shock, half in admiration.
"That is the glory I aspire to, Adam."
"I have a feeling this could turn real ugly, real fast," Danny said, shaking his head.
"Science geeks are capable of great pranks," Mac agreed.
Stella sighed.
"Between the five of you, I am starting to feel very tired."
"Old people need more sleep than us youngin's," Danny commented, earning him Lindsay's boot to his shin.
"Ow Montana!"
"Girls gotta stick together."
"Amen."
"Girls are violent."
"Boys are wimps."
"And we're all suddenly seven years old."
They laughed together as the waitress came to take their orders. They all teased Adam for ordering a salad, especially when he said he wanted the dressing on the side.
"You trying to watch your girlish figure?" Mac asked, taking a drink of his Coke.
"He wants to look his best for the Speedo contest," Danny commented. Adam just rolled his eyes.
"Anybody got change? We need new music," Flack said, digging into his pocket for some quarters for the jukebox.
"I've got ten cents."
"I've got five cents."
"And me, I have no cents at all," Stella finished, patting her pockets.
"Well, I wouldn't say that, Stell," Mac said with a grin. "I mean, maybe sometimes, but surely not all the time."
"Shut up, Mac."
"I've got a quarter," Lindsay said, standing up and heading for the jukebox.
"Guys, I need change quick. She's gonna play something country!" Danny exclaimed. They all handed over their change and Danny sprinted to the machine, grabbing Lindsay around the waist and moving her away so he could pick the song.
"Messer!"
"I'm not listening to no Shania Twain."
"That wasn't what I was going to pick."
"Faith Hill? George Strait? Alan Jackson? SheDaisy?"
"I am pleased by your knowledge of country singers."
"Aw crap."
She giggled as he picked a song and they headed back to the table. Flack and Adam were flicking pieces of straw wrapper at each other, while Mac and Stella were arguing the finer points of an old case. Lindsay smiled as she watched them in the dim lights of the old restaurant. She'd kept herself pretty closed off, getting by on jokes and case discussion, never becoming personally transparent. Maybe it was time. Maybe she was ready to have friends again. It wasn't exactly the same, but for the first time in ten years, she felt like a part of something again. And for the first time in ten years, that's what she actually wanted.