This is a one-shot that has been in the works for months, perhaps as a way of working through any shipper insecurities I had. It was in a state of neglect and I finally pulled it together to finish it. Just a comfy one-shot. Thanks to el spunko for a quasi-beta proofread.

Disclaimer: Not my characters, just my imagination.

Nothing in Between

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this."

They walked through the door of the tiny cabin, setting down their bags and examining what would be their weekend retreat. While Danny was apprehensive about a few days away from civilization, Lindsay was already in heaven. Being alone with him - a break from their busy lifestyle - was what she craved more than anything. The skin from her head to her toes was tingling with excitement and nervousness. While her feelings had grown and expanded, deepening their hold like roots of a tree merging into the earth, it had become difficult to find time for just the two of them to bond. This was their first time alone together in such a secluded location, with nothing to distract them.

The cabin's interior was decorated with a North Woods theme, in shades of maroon and spruce green, fabrics of flannel and wool. Just inside the door was a mudroom, which led to a kitchen on the left, and a combined bedroom/sitting room on the right. Beyond the kitchen lay a bathroom. It was a cozy atmosphere, and an air of desire filled the room already.

"Thank God," Danny remarked, inspecting the bathroom and discovering a shower. "I wasn't looking forward to bathing in the creek." Lindsay laughed as he continued to voice his urbanite complaints. "What do we do about food? Catch it and skin it ourselves?" he asked skeptically. "I didn't bring my sidearm."

Lindsay pointed to the old refrigerator churning in the corner of the kitchen. "It's catered. This place is only rustic as far as the marketing ploy, but we've still got running water and electricity. We'll cook on the woodstove, though, and we have to depend on candles and lanterns for lights. The fireplace is how we'll keep warm… well, oneway we'll keep warm." She grinned excitedly, until the muscles in her cheeks felt like they would pop. "It will be so romantic."

Danny opened the refrigerator door, exposing wrapped packages of meats and vegetables, eggs and bread. A bottle of wine was tucked behind other beverages. "Luxury camping," he said. "Now that's my kind of getaway."

Lindsay rolled her eyes, stepping in front of him and pushing the door closed. "It's not supposed to be about food," she reminded him, touching her finger to his lips to his briefly. "It's supposed to be about us. Now we can focus on each other."

"Each other," he echoed. His eyes lit up when he spotted the king-sized bed in the other room. "I see there's no sofa, no television, no computer. I'm new at this wilderness thing, Montana, so why don't you fill me in -- what on earth are we going to do all weekend?"

Lindsay took two steps back, her eyes not leaving his. "Oh, I don't know… maybe, take lots of naps. Play games. Exercise." She continued walking backwards, her smoldering stare daring him to follow her.

He rubbed his hands together greedily. "I bet I know a way to combine all those in one."

"How convenient. Would you care to show me?"

--

Two weeks earlier:

Lindsay cornered him in the dark locker room. Though technically the rooms were marked to separate men and women, the labels were essentially ignored by the staff. They were alone, and she pressed her body up against Danny's, smiling a secret smile she reserved solely for him, for moments like these. She waited until she had his complete attention before beginning. She was about to make a proposal that meant a lot to her, because lately things between them seemed to have cooled. The feelings were still there, certainly, but working opposite shifts and the stress of investigating left little time for romance. Candlelit dinners and sexy surprises had given way to napping on the sofa together and cold pizza for breakfast. She knew all those headlines from magazines, such as "Relationships take work!" and "Bring the spice back to your love life!". But Lindsay was not quite willing to try chocolate-honey flavored body paint, or the pop-up version of the Kama Sutra. With all the distractions in their life, there was only one solution to have Danny to herself - get him away from the city. She knew it would be easier said than done, and thus it was all in the presentation.

"So, I've been thinking…", she said, tapping her fingers nervously on the metal locker door. "Do you remember the Rooney case I worked last month? The 25-year-old man who was shot behind a Quick Stop?" She purposefully pressed her face close to his, allowing her breath to burn his neck.

"We don't say 'Quick Stop' around here, remember, country girl?" he teased. "Bodega. Convenience store."

Her expression made it clear she wasn't amused. "You know what I mean."

"Sure, sure," he murmured. "The vic's father was a rich guy, he was so thankful to you for breaking the case."

Lindsay nodded, feeling a pang of sadness as she remembered the pained, haunted face of the man caught between excruciating grief and intense thankfulness. "Well, he just so happens to own Hever Cabins, a resort about an hour north of here."

Danny cocked an eyebrow, just a hint of a knowing smile lighting up his face. "Okay. Where is this going?"

"He told me any time I wanted to stay there, it was on him. All the amenities included, for life. So I was thinking… you, me...". Her voice drifted off, a faraway, dreamy look in her eyes.

Danny was less than enthused. "In the wilderness. No electricity. No water. Not sexy."

She rolled her eyes, both frustrated and amused in a way only he could provoke in her. "That's not what's important here. I want to be alone with you. Just you and me." She reached over to touch a button hole on his shirt, lightly rubbing the fabric between her thumb and forefinger. She could see he was about to give in; she almost had him. Time to seal the deal. She leaned in to him and whispered before walking away:

"Nothing in between."

--

Danny was panting by the time they stumbled the six feet into the bedroom. He was tugging desperately at Lindsay's clothes, removing his glasses and shoes in the frenzied process.

"Where's the fire?" she asked, slightly bewildered as she pulled back from his passionate onslaught.

"In my pants."

She laughed. "Easy, casanova, slow down. I want to enjoy this." She moved to draw the shades, hoping to bring an early darkness to the room. She still felt a bit nervous and shy in these moments.

Danny stopped her. "No. I want to see you." His voice was tender. Arguing was impossible, as words were again lost to luxuriously slow kisses. Danny took her head in his hands, leaving her unable to part for a breath. But the burning in her lungs was nothing compared to the burning that was raging elsewhere inside her. Her hands found the hem of his shirt, she untucked it with a few sharp jerks. She undid each button slowly, pausing between to allow her fingers brief contact with his warm, firm stomach. After the top button was released, she pressed both palms to his heaving chest, savoring the power, the effect she was having on him. He released her reluctantly, long enough to shrug off his shirt. She saw then that he was not wearing his signature tank top underneath. "Smart man," she murmured. It was obvious what he had in mind.

As they moved toward the bed, Lindsay was glad the windows were left uncovered after all. The sun brought in not only warmth, but a guiding light. They were hardly new lovers, but his body left so much unexplored territory.

"Lay down," she commanded, authoritative but soft. "Don't move. Keep your hands where I can see them." She had to swallow a laugh at using those words, the ones often shouted at suspects in the darkest alleys. She lowered herself over him, using both her lips and hands to conduct a detailed study of his chest, arms, and neck, branding everything to her memory. She stopped once to look at him, his eyes closed, he looked so peaceful. The spot where his neck met his shoulder, when lightly nipped, made him shudder. His biceps were made to be worshipped with soft kisses. She decided it was only fair to remove his pants, he had to be getting uncomfortable. But as she sat up to do so, he reached out quick as lightening and grabbed her.

"Gotcha," he breathed. "My turn." He flipped her onto her back beneath him, and she submitted without argument. The surprise of his action made her giggle, as did the sensation of his moustache when he began kissing her neck. She was completely powerless, the positions totally reversed. He undressed her, with little help from her. She felt paralyzed by his searing touch, his intense gaze. Though it wasn't their first time together, it was the most intimate they had been. They were using their bodies to make their emotions physical: teasing, urgent, overpowering, burning; both inside and out. Here she was, completely exposed. All logical thought cut off. She couldn't remember her own name, all that remained in her mind and on her lips was one word: "Danny."

"Now who's trying to rush things?" he snickered.

"To hell with that," she replied, wrapping her hands behind his neck and crashing her lips against his.

In a flurry of movement, Danny lost the remainder of his clothing, before bringing his hands back to her skin. Now, the touches were more intense. For the first time, she felt downright exposed, as though they were the only two people left on the planet. They could concentrate on each other, and she felt shy and vulnerable. This was the way things should be, if life didn't always get in the way. Here they were, surrounded by acres and acres of woodland and no ringing phones to interrupt them.

"I didn't want to rush this," she moaned. But she knew it was too late to slow the pace – he couldn't wait, she couldn't wait. She'd allowed herself to get caught by the tidal wave of desire.

"We can have more tries later," he pleaded. "This is just the rehearsal." Danny pulled the blanket over them, creating a dark, warm cavern of intimacy. He was right, she knew – they had a whole weekend to try again. And wasn't the point of this trip to fully yield to their feelings? So she let go completely, engulfed by a primal need, caught up in an emotional rush.

--

Afterwards, she knew he was sleeping lightly. He always did that; nothing put him to sleep faster. But her mind would not release her to slumber, she needed to discuss something.

She poked his chest. "Hey."

"Hmm." He barely stirred.

"Danny?"

"That's me." His eyes did not open.

She bit her lip, nervous to embark on this conversation. If the answer was not good, she would almost rather not know. Despite the passionate exchange they had just shared, she still felt insecure. "Are you happy?"

A grunt emerged from between his lips. "I'd be happier if I was asleep."

She groaned. He was always a complete and utter failure at pillow talk. "I mean, are you happy with me?"

That caught his attention, and his eyes popped open. "Of course I'm happy, what do you mean?"

"You know how they say wanting something can be better than having it? Do you ever feel that way?"

"No!" He looked shocked, the worried. "Wait, do you?"

She took his hand, threading her fingers with is. "No! Never. But lately, things just seem… I don't know. It's like we've lost touch a little, forgotten just what it is we have."

Pulling her a little closer, Danny sighed. "We've just been busy, Lindsay, that's all. Maybe we haven't been able to spend as much time together, but it doesn't mean I don't feel the same way about you as I always have. It's just that life gets in the way sometimes."

With his hand stroking her hair, and the warm, sweet comfort of being so close to him, she was growing dangerously drowsy. Forcing herself to stay alert, she continued trying to settle what was on her mind. "All we do is talk business. We never have much time to spend alone together. And I just worry. I worry you're getting tired of me, and that everything we had will sort of slip away."

She felt him bristle. "Don't even talk like that." His voice was not anywhere near as chastising as the words themselves. "Look, I'm not good at doing the serious thing. I'm not going to be writing you sonnets and all that crap."

In spite of the serious nature of the discussion, she had to chuckle. "Well, I know that," she said, poking his side. There was nothing more hilarious than the image of Danny in a feather cap and waistcoat, on one knee, reciting poetry.

Playfully, he rolled his eyes and continued. "But, like I was saying, it doesn't mean that I'm not as," he gulped before saying the word, "committed as you are. Because I am. Committed. Besides, it took us so long to get to this point. Let's just enjoy it. If something comes along down the road, we'll deal with it then."

"That's what scares me a little," she admitted. "I don't want things to ever go bad between us."

He shrugged. "Well argue about stupid stuff, get annoyed by each other… it happens. I can't promise we won't have problems. But we'll work through it. You and me, Montana, we're in this for good. I'm not going anywhere."

"I believe you," she replied. "It just helps to hear it once in awhile." She smiled sheepishly. "I guess I get a little insecure sometimes. I need to know what's in your heart."

"You're in my heart." His voice was barely above a whisper.

The words were so meaningful, it made her ache. When she couldn't think of a proper reply, he went on. "Alright, what can I do to make you relax? How can I ease your insecurities? I'll do whatever it takes."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

She saw the fear on his face as soon as the words were spoken. She grinned wickedly, but then, resting on his chest and listening to his heart beat beneath her chest, she remained silent. What could she possibly ask for? When she looked back at their time together – and even before they were together – he had given her everything. He had known when to back off, when to push forward. In her greatest moments of need, he had appeared. Of course, he never sent her flowers, or took her to the opera, or spoke "I love you" in public. The way he expressed his feelings was by leaving her favorite cheese Danish on her desk as a surprise, or offering to take her trash out when he was over at her place. But he always listened to her, no matter if the topic was a gruesome case or complaining about her next-door neighbor. He really listened, offered advice, offered comfort. If he woke before her in the mornings, he would turn off the alarm clock, then wake her instead with soft kisses on her face. His sweet caress spared her the harsh wail of the alarm. Later, he would put two slices of bread in the toaster for her, so all she had to do was press the button. She realized then that perhaps romance wasn't all about the stereotypical things. Truly, she loved him just the way he was. He was no Romeo, but he was hers.

Noting her lapse into silence, Danny poked her back lightly. "Well?" he urged.

Where they were now was perfect, she decided. She didn't want anything to change. All she had ever wanted had been right here all along. "I want this to last," she murmured quietly.

"Well, we have to go back to work on Monday," he sighed.

She laughed. "I mean this, what we have. I don't want to ever be with anyone else but you."

"How about we make a pact? At least once a week we'll have a real date night. And then, every couple of months, we'll come back up here."

"I love it," she gushed. "Perfect."

"How are you feeling now?" he asked, his breath against her ear making her nerves stand on end.

She rolled on top of him, kissing him deeply, possessively. "Like I'm ready for another rehearsal."

And so once again they moved together, skin to skin, nothing in between.