Anger Management

A/N: Oh no, not another one… stupid title. I couldn't think of one.

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI… etc.etc.

It was a long time since Lindsay Monroe had just walked and walked with no care where she was going, forgetting where she was coming from. She was walking too fast, her footsteps too heavy on the sidewalk, the sounds of her heels clicking along making her feel nauseous, but she couldn't bring herself to stop. Just in case he was, as she feared he might be, following her. What was wrong with him – could he never take no for an answer? More to the point, what was wrong with her? How could she have been through all that she had, and still feel a burning desire to love him rise in her chest every time she saw those blue eyes. She'd almost convinced herself that it wasn't love, merely indigestion, and that it was no good pretending otherwise. But that was just like her wasn't it? Find a logical explanation; reason with herself, so that she wouldn't have to face the facts. God, if there was an exam in self-denial, she'd have aced it.

She really wanted to tell herself that he didn't matter to her, that she didn't want him anymore. That what he'd done didn't hurt her, and that he wouldn't be forgiven. Better still, that there was nothing for her to forgive him for. Why should she care if he'd slept with Rikki? Hell, he could have slept with their whole apartment block and she shouldn't care. It wasn't as if they were in a relationship anyway. Friends with benefits perhaps; a bit of sex here, a kiss there. They'd never made any commitments. Why would she bother trying to make a commitment to him; he who feared commitment more than anything else. Or so she imagined.

It wasn't that easy to forget. Not that easy to just pass it off as a fling, not when feelings were involved. When she knew deep inside that she'd fallen for him. That she was in love with him, even after everything he'd done to her. Every nerve in her body ached to be touched by his rough but careful hands. Every time he caressed her, it was like her skin was on fire, and she missed the burning sensation in her mouth from every kiss. Her mind drifted to him, wondering if he missed her as much as she missed him. She doubted it; he'd been the one to push her away, to fall into bed with another woman even whilst she was right there, ready and waiting for him.

Lindsay stopped walking. In the dark, she couldn't see where she was and her body shook, her pulse racing. God, he made her so angry. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and pulled out her cell phone. She was alone on the street. She sat down in a doorway, tucking her knees under her chin and saying a silent prayer to a god she didn't even believe existed. Without hesitation, she pressed the speed dial option for Danny, wanting to get it over and done with before she changed her mind.

"I hate you Danny Messer. You make me angry, like I want to punch something or someone… or bash my head against a wall," she blurted down the line, before he had a chance to say a word.

"Nice to hear from you too Montana," he said, his voice dull and lifeless. She wondered if this was a mistake. Her heart sank. He hadn't called her Montana in weeks. No matter how hard she told herself he made her angry, she couldn't help but crumble at the sound of that one word, dripping off his lips like honey.

"I just…" she started, but her voice faded into the night and she didn't know what to say, but words fell before she could stop them, "I miss you. I hate to admit it but I miss you and I want to work things out, but you gotta give me time. Okay?"

She heard him release a breath he'd obviously been holding, and smiled. She knew she couldn't fall back into the kind of relationship they'd had, that this time it had to be more; had to feel more real. It had to be the kind of relationship you could grab onto with both hands and never want to let go of. She just hoped he wanted the same thing.

Before she knew what she was doing, she was up from her make-shift seat, and rushing back the way she'd come. Her head was spinning, but this time it wasn't the urge to feel sick that she felt, more the dizziness of anticipation.

-end-