Hey everyone! This is just my idea on how Lindsay would have handled the recent twists in her relationship with Danny. Bear in mind that I love Lindsay and I hate Danny right now. Please let me know what you think. I haven't written anything in a while and I wasn't planning to, but the words just kept floating around in my head.
By the way, I do not own any part of CSI:NY. If I did, "Right Next Door" would not have happened the way it did.
Lindsay Monroe fidgeted as she stood inside the elevator taking her up to the New York Crime Lab. Her usually bright brown eyes were tired from the sleepless night she spent reliving that painful scene that took place in their office yesterday. Willing herself to cry so she could let it all to hadn't worked. The tears simply refused to come and bring the catharsis it usually did. Unable to sleep, and unable to stay in an apartment that held too many memories, she took a long, hot shower and got dressed for work. It didn't matter that she had the day off and her next shift was tomorrow at noon. She had nothing better to do anyways, might as well use the day to catch up on paperwork. She wasn't ready to face Danny just yet, but she was damned if she would mope around and avoid him. No, she wouldn't let him see how much he had broken her. She was Lindsay Monroe. She was a survivor and she would get through this, just like she got through everything else.
Squaring her shoulders and taking a deep breath, she walked resolutely out of elevator and down the halls to the locker room to put her things away. Luckily, the halls were pretty deserted at that time, so she was able to reach the locker rooms without having to deal with anyone just yet. Dialing the lock with shaking fingers, she closed her eyes for a moment and took another deep breath to steady herself. Once she had gotten herself together, she resumed the simple act of opening her locker.
Just as she thought she was alright, she was assaulted by a fresh wave of heartache when she saw the photograph taped to the inside of the door. It was a picture of her and Danny, at Sullivan's, taken by Hawkes when they had gone out to celebrate after she came back from Montana. His arm was slung casually around her shoulders and they both had big grins on their faces.
Resisting the urge to trace her finger on the miniaturized image of Danny's face, she pulled down the picture gently, pushing it to the top shelf under a pile of junk so she wouldn't have to see it anymore. She stuffed her bag inside the locker and tipped her head back, gathering every ounce of strength she had before heading to the office that she shared with Danny.
Half-hoping that he wouldn't be there and half-hoping that he was so that she could dispense with the awkwardness that she was sure would be present when she saw him again for the first time after her unplanned declaration, she was unsure of how she felt when she saw him sitting at his desk, squinting at something in his computer.
Hesitating slightly at the doorway, she pasted a small smile on her face, grateful that he didn't sense her approach. That was another thing that changed. He used to be so aware of her, knowing that she was there even though he couldn't see her yet. Now, he barely registered her presence, even when she was standing right in front of him.
She quietly took her seat and booted up her computer, shuffling through some papers on her desk, looking for the report she started yesterday and was unable to finish because she was drained physically and emotionally, both from solving the case and yesterday's confrontation.
After a while, Danny cleared his throat and said gruffly, "Hey, isn't it your day off?"
Lindsay forced herself to shrug nonchalantly, and replied in a voice that was deliberately even, "Yeah, but I figured I might as well use the day to catch up on paperwork."
Danny nodded to himself, watching her silently. She was moving almost mechanically, with careful, precise movements that told him how much she was fighting to stay in control of her emotions. He was able to understand this much, because he remembered Lindsay moving with energy, with passion, not this robotic calm. Somewhere from the deepest recesses of his now hardened heart, a twinge of pain shot through him at the thought that he was the one who did this to her.
He tried again, "Look, since we're still both off the clock, why don't we get a cup of coffee so we can talk?"
She lifted her eyes to his, chocolate brown eyes that despite all her effort were not able to hide the pain she felt. She thought for a second about refusing, in a petty attempt to get back at him for refusing to go to lunch with her, but thought better of it. It would hurt less if they make a clean break now, wouldn't it? Still holding his gaze, she nodded silently.
Danny exhaled, half in relief that she said yes, half-dreading the conversation that was sure to follow. In a voice laced with false cheerfulness, he asked, "Joe's?"
Again, Lindsay merely nodded, not really caring where they talked. In absolute silence, the pair made their way back to the locker room, grabbing their coats. Less than fifteen minutes later, they were ensconced in a quiet booth at the back of a diner frequented by cops. Thankfully, the place wasn't packed today, so they had the space they needed to talk.
After the waitress placed two steaming cups of coffee in front of them, Danny stared at her for a second, unsure of where to begin, content to watch as she prepared her coffee out of habit; two packs of creamer and two sugars. A ghost of a smile flitted on his face as he remembered the first time he tasted her coffee. He'd almost spit it out because it was too sweet.
Much like earlier, Danny cleared his throat and said awkwardly, "So, umm. About what you said yesterday..." he said, his words trailing off, unsure of what he was supposed to say next.
Lindsay looked him straight in the eye, having gathered up her courage to go through this one last talk on the way to the diner, asked, "What about it?"
Danny plunged ahead, "I need to tell you something." He hesitated, waiting for her to respond, but she just looked at him, waiting for him to continue, and in that instant, Danny saw it in her eyes and understood. She knew. The matchless pain that radiated from her since yesterday was not about him missing her birthday, nor about not having lunch with her. At that moment, he felt more guilt crashing down on him for thinking that those shallow reasons were why she was upset.
She knew about him and Rikki, even before he had said anything.
Swallowing past the lump that suddenly grew in his throat, he managed to grate out, "I slept with Rikki."
Lindsay sat there, motionless, for what seemed like forever to both of them. Despite knowing in her heart of hearts that something had happened, it hurt a million times worse to hear Danny admit it.
He watched her eyes start to glisten with unshed tears, the moisture magnifying the hurt she felt through her soft brown eyes. And then she just smiled sadly at him and said, "I know."
The words suddenly came tumbling out of his lips, "Lindsay, look, I don't know what to say…"
But she cut him off, saying quietly, "You don't have to say anything, Danny. You don't have to explain anything." That same sad smile was still on her lips, driving another nail into his coffin of guilt. She inhaled deeply and started shredding a napkin, staring at her fingers, before continuing. "It's not your fault, you know. I knew I shouldn't have let myself fall for you. It's just that we became friends, and we got to know each other, and even when I pushed you away, you waited for me. You flew to Montana to stand by me through one of the most difficult things I ever had to do, and against my better judgment, I let myself think that all those things meant something. But now I know that they don't, because if they did, you'd let me help you through this." Unbidden, a tear slipped out of her eyes and she hastily brushed it aside, continuing, "So like I said, cowboy, it's not your fault. It's more my fault than yours for letting myself believe you." She let out a hollow laugh, "As for what happened with Rikki, you don't have to explain." She lifted her gaze to his once more and Danny almost broke down at the sight of the pain that she managed to convey without even trying. "You and I," her hands lifted, gesturing between them helplessly, "we didn't have enough of anything that makes you owe me an explanation. I thought it did, but I guess I was wrong."
Danny just stared at her, unsure of what to say in the face of such naked honesty. Deep inside him, he knew that Lindsay shouldn't be the one taking responsibility for their ill-fated, twisted relationship, but even after he shattered her heart into a million pieces, she was still protecting him from the guilt, because that was who she was.
He said weakly, "Lindsay…" But again she cut him off, saying softly, "I guess after that, there's not much left to talk about, huh?" She slid quietly out of the booth, her overly sweet coffee untouched on the table.
As she walked away that she had the fleeting thought that she was wrong, making a clean break now couldn't possibly hurt more than making a clean break later on. But she was Lindsay Monroe. She never took the easy way out. She knew that she could have blamed everything on Danny, but it was as much her fault as it was his because she chose to trust him, and now she understood the folly of her actions, and she refused to blame anyone but herself. She clung to that thought as she pushed the door open and slipped into the bustling New York street.
And Danny watched her walk away, out of the diner, and out of his life.
Just to let you know, I love Lindsay. Writing her response to the situation like this was my way of dignifying her, not letting Danny get the best of her. I hope you guys liked it. Let me know what you think by sending reviews. I live for your reviews.
