Authors Note: One shot from Danny's point of view. Usual disclaimers apply (sigh) and it gets a K+ rating (the M rated one shot is still in development!). Huge thank you to Sally Jetson for the beta and the encouragement to write D/L. :wub:

It's slightly AU in that it assumes that Danny and Lindsay got together as a couple and I suppose it's set after the end of season 2 (I still believe that the offer of a lift home in the final episode of season 2 was the start of a full on romance between them whatever the writers and TPTB may misguidedly believe :-)

Please leave a review and let me know what you think

The Key Chain

It caught his eye as he pulled his keys from his pocket and placed them in the tray ready for them to pass through the scanner. He still wasn't sure why he had kept it, why he hadn't thrown it away as he had planned to all those months ago; why he used it when he had a far more expensive and, frankly, tasteful one he could use. Actually that was a lie, he knew exactly why he kept it; it was because she had given it to him, on the last day they has spent together before it had all gone wrong, before she had left him. His mind drifted, yet again, to the events of that day, five months ago

It had been such a normal day and what pissed him off the most was that he couldn't remember it as well as he would have liked to. They had woken up and made love, showered together, made breakfast together, driven to work together, like they always did. He hadn't known, he couldn't have known, it was the last time they would do any of these things; that this wasn't just another day, one of thousands they would share together. He couldn't even remember what she had worn that day. It had been their last day together and it should have been special, it should have stood out but it hadn't, it had been ordinary, and that hurt more than he could understand.

Even work had been unremarkable with their day spent catching up on paperwork, laughing together in their office although he couldn't remember what they had laughed about. They had made plans to go out to dinner that night with Flack and his latest girlfriend and that Lindsay had wondered aloud if this one would last any longer than Flack's previous three girlfriends.

For lunch they had gone to the local deli; they had been giving away cheap key chains with the food. His had an image of the Empire State Building on it and he had disposed of it in the trash before they had left the deli. Hers had an image of the New York skyline on it and she had crowed with delight when she had seen it. He remembered being amused at her reaction and asking why it was so special. She had told him that it reminded her of the time he had told her that the New York skyline had to be a better view than a field full of wheat. She had given it to him, telling him it was a present, laughing at the look on his face. He had slid it into his desk drawer, thinking he could 'forget' about it and then slip it in the trash at some future point. He hadn't known then that it would become a reminder of their last day together and that he wouldn't be able to bear to part with it.

The call had come just as they were finishing up their lunch; he and Hawkes had to head over to Central Park to check out a suspicious death. She had kissed him briefly on his lips and told him she would see him later; he had grinned and told her that if it looked like taking too long he would call to let her know. That had been their last kiss and it killed him that he couldn't remember every detail of how her lips had felt on his, but he couldn't. It had just been a kiss, one of many they had shared; nothing special, nothing remarkable, just a brief brushing of his lips against hers.

He had caught sight of her, briefly, as he left to go to the crime scene; she had been bent over her paperwork as she compiled her report for her last case, her forehead creased in a slight frown as she read through her notes. She hadn't looked up and he hadn't called out to her. It rankled, nagged remorselessly at him, that he hadn't, that something hadn't warned him that this would be the last time he saw her, but it hadn't. It had been just another moment in what should have been years and years of moments.

He and Hawkes had been gone a couple of hours but the scene hadn't been complicated and they had made it back to the lab before their shift ended. He thought it was ironic that his clearest memory of that day had been the look on Stella's face when she had come to tell him that Lindsay was gone, that there had been a call to tell her that her father had been killed in an accident and that she had already left to go to the airport. She had asked Stella to explain what had happened and asked her to tell him that she would call him later.

She had called him later and he had offered to fly out to help her but she had refused, telling him that her mother was falling apart and that there wasn't anything he could do. They had spoken a lot initially, when he had thought it would just be a few days, a week at the most before she came back to him, but one week had stretched to two and he noticed that it became harder to get hold of her and when he did manage to speak to her, their calls were shorter and she seemed distant.

It was three weeks later when his patience was exhausted and he had demanded to know when she was coming back. She had prevaricated, getting upset when he persisted and he had felt like a heartless bastard when he realised she was crying. The next day Mac had pulled him to one side; the look on his face had warned him before he heard the words leave his mouth, telling him that Lindsay's mother needed her, and so she would be staying in Montana for a while. He had wanted to know how long a 'while' was but Mac hadn't known. He had rung Lindsay and in his hurt had said all the wrong things, so much so that she had refused to take every call he had made to her since. He had written to apologise but she had rung Stella and asked her to arrange to pack up her things and send them back to her in Montana. It was Stella who had told him that Lindsay couldn't cope with his anger and his jealousy and she wanted him to leave her alone, to stop trying to contact her.

That was five months ago now and he had tried everything he could think of to get over her. He had dated girls that Flack set him up with but none of them made him feel anything other than an ache in his heart that he knew only Lindsay could fill. He hadn't even been able to kiss them goodnight and had never bothered asking for a second date. Then, last week, he had gone to a bar, got drunk, and picked up a girl who looked a bit like Lindsay. He had taken her back to his apartment but as soon as she walked through the door he had known he couldn't go through with it. She was pretty but her skin wasn't as lustrous as Lindsay's. Her eyes were a pale brown but he preferred Lindsay's deep chocolate coloured eyes. Her hair was nice but it didn't shine like Lindsay's and it didn't curl like hers did either. She had a nice figure but not as nice as Lindsay's……..

He had apologised and accepted without comment her coarsely expressed opinions about being sent home at 2am, and then he had curled up on the bed clutching a t shirt that had somehow been missed when Stella had packed up her things. It still smelt of her, and he had finally felt the damn break and had let the tears pour freely down his face, feeling a physical pain that gnawed at him and made him wonder if his heart was, quite literally, breaking. He finally accepted that this was not something that could be cured or forgotten, that the only thing that could ease this agony would be her physical presence.

And that was how he came to be sitting here, waiting for the call to board the plane that would take him to Montana. He had no idea what he would say, how he could apologise for the angry words that had spilled from his lips when she had told him she had to stay because there was no one else who could look after her mother. He just knew he had to find the words that would convince her that he would wait for as long as it took; that he loved her too much to let her go, and to hope that she hadn't moved on, hadn't found someone else.

He stared unseeingly through the window of the departures area and was only vaguely aware of the plane arriving at the gate and the passengers disembarking. A woman's voice caught his attention and his head jerked up as he frantically searched the faces of the people newly arrived in New York. He heard the voice again and now he stood, craning his neck, sure it was Lindsay he could hear. The voice spoke again, laughing at something someone said and a path cleared and he could see her…..and it wasn't Lindsay. The disappointment ripped at his insides and he turned away, gritting his teeth as he furiously blinked back the tears that seemed to come all to easily at the moment.

He felt a hand on his arm and saw a tissue extended toward him. He nodded his head and took the tissue, making a pretence of blowing his nose before he pasted a suitably grateful look on his face and turned to thank whichever of his fellow passengers had been feeling sorry for him

Her eyes were red and so was the tip of her nose; she looked pale and her hair was tied carelessly back. She wasn't wearing any make up and was dressed in a battered old jacket and a loose fitting pair of jeans, she looked a mess but to Danny she looked perfect.

Her image blurred as the tears started to flow down his face. A step and she was in his arms, his face buried in her hair, her arms holding him so tightly his ribs were protesting. He moved slightly so that he could see her face and realised she was crying every bit as hard as he was. He kissed her fiercely, deliberately savouring every movement her lips made under his; the taste of her tears; how her mouth opened allowing him access; the feeling of their tongues tangling in a heated, frantic dance that sent bolts of electricity to every part of his body.

He pulled away and rested his forehead against hers, the tears he was crying warring with the smile spreading across his face

'I was on my way to see you'

She cradled his face in her hands as she laughed through her tears; 'I know, Stella called. I was just hoping I would make it back before your plane took off'

'Lindsay, I'm so sorry……..'

She stopped his words with a kiss; and he surrendered again to the feel of her lips under his as he ran his hand through her hair, breathing in her scent, determined to remember every moment, to have this imprinted on his mind for ever.

She broke the kiss this time; 'I'm back Danny, to stay…….if you'll have me back?'

He pulled her to him again, holding her tightly, trying to show her that he would never let her go, burying his face in her hair again as he murmured brokenly

'Let's go home'

As they reached the car he pulled out his keys, a smile spreading across his face as he saw the image of the New York skyline on the key chain.