Alright, so Laura started this party train. So this is just gonna be a bunch of random song inspired one-shots. They're either going to be Dantana or Smacked (And maybe the rare character study/flack fic).
Disclaimer: I really, truly own nothin'
Nothing feels right when I'm not with you
Sick of this dress and these Jimmy Choos
Takin' them off cause I feel a fool
Tryin' to dress up when I'm missin' you
I'mma step out of this lingerie
Curl up in a ball with something Hanes
In that I lay
With nothing but your t-shirt on
-Shontelle's T-Shirt;
Lindsay Monroe stood in front of her full length mirror in a slinky knee length purple dress and a pair of silver slingbacks. Pulling at the dress, she frowned and then lifted her hair to see if it would work better up. Nothing felt like it fit quite right; the dress felt too tight, too low cut, and she looked like death. Dark circles hung under her eyes and wouldn't quite go away, she hadn't had a good nights sleep in Lord knows how long. Glancing at the clock and cursing when she realized she was supposed to meet Stella Bonasera and Jessica Angell in forty minutes for drinks and girls night. She didn't want to go out, not even with her two best friends, she wanted to curl up in Danny's button down and watch sad movies, while eating ice cream from the bucket.
Grabbing her phone as she undid the strap of her heel, she hit the speed dial for Stella, "Bonasera."
"Stella, hey," Lindsay spoke softly as she began to remove her second heel, "I'm gonna bow out for the night. I'm exhausted and just want to get some sleep."
"Linds, you need to get out of your apartment. Sitting there, thinking about Danny, you're gonna drive yourself nuts, Kiddo." Stella informed her of what she already knew.
"I know, Stel. I really am exhausted." Lindsay said and didn't have to force a yawn as her hand clamped over her mouth.
She heard Stella sigh, "Alright, Linds. We'll be at that new place in the L.E.S. if you decide to join us."
"Thanks, Stella. Bye." Lindsay hit the end call button and undid the tie on her dress, letting it fall to the hardwood of her bedroom floor. She stood in her black boy shorts as she rifled through her drawers before she found it, the white button down that Danny had left at her place after a court date. It was the last one, the rest of them had lost his scent ages ago.
His scent was like a drug for her as she raised the collar to her nose and breathed him in. He smelled like Axe and the cheap shampoo he got at the bodega for two dollars. Lindsay slid the button down on and buttoned up half the buttons, unable to line them all up through the tears pooling in her eyes. The edge of the well worn shirt just brushed mid thigh and the sleeves hung down over her thumbs.
Pulling back the comforter and sheet, she slid into the bed and pulled the covers up to her chin as she wrapped her arms around his pillow. She traced her pointer finger over the slightly discolored patch on the forest green pillow case. Danny had a drooling habit that embarrassed him deeply and Lindsay found it endearing.
Her head burrowed into the pillow and she let the tears slip from her chocolate eyes as she realized having her arms around his pillows paled to having her arms around him. The tears were filled with a flurry of emotion; anger, jealousy, hurt, love. It was like a never ending vicious circle; she was angry because she loves him, she was jealous because she doesn't like getting angry because she loves him and he is hers, she was hurt because she didn't want to be jealous because she was angry that she loves him, she loves him because she got hurt over being jealous when she got angry and that's not who she normally is.
Nothing, absolutely nothing, felt right without Danny to come home to at the end of the day. They hadn't been living together but they never spent a night apart – not until Reuben died and Danny's guilt sent him running to Rikki. She couldn't force herself to hate Rikki, she was missing her son, Danny was the one who chose to go to her, to misplace his guilt and sleep with another woman, he chose to break Lindsay's heart.
A knock came to her apartment door and Lindsay pulled the covers over her head, wanting to block out the real world at the moment. The knock became persistent and his voice carried through the door, "Linds! Open up. Lindsay! Monroe, c'mon." The rate of knocking doubled, "Montana!"
That had done it. Viciously throwing back the covers, Lindsay tore out of her bedroom, through her apartment and flung the door open so hard it almost snapped back close on Danny's foot. She glared at him through red rimmed eyes in nothing but his dress shirt, "You. Don't. Get. To. Call. Me. Montana. Anymore."
"Lindsay." His voice broke; he stood before her all disheveled in his worn bomber jacket, green tee and jeans. He rocked on his heels as he took in her state, his heart breaking for her.
"What do you want Danny?" She practically whimpered, "Do you want to hurt me more? Can't you just leave me alone?"
"I, uh, got a little visit from two of New York's finest." Danny explained and pointed to the mark on his forehead, "Angell whacked me with her purse-type-thing, the buckle did that. Stella told me to quit acting like a, and I quote, "dumbass". She said you hadn't slept in days and that you were hurtin' bad, I believe 'er now."
"Really?" Lindsay's anger returned tenfold, "You've been workin' beside me every damn day and it took Stella telling you to decide that I was hurting? God, Danny, I can't fucking breathe! I can't focus. I've been leaving evidence out. I got called on by Mac cause I haven't been acting right. Mac, Danny, our friggen boss saw it before you did. You stubborn, boneheaded, pain in my side, JACKASS!"
"Linds..."
"And the worst part of it?" Lindsay swiped at the tears that had began to fall, "I can't stop loving you. I keep sleeping in your shirts, this is the last one and they're all losing your smell. I can't breathe when I look at you cause I know you're hurting too. I am so pissed because I love you and I really don't want to right now. It hurts, Danny, so fucking bad."
Danny stepped towards her, his hands resting on her upper arms, "Let me fix it."
"How?" Lindsay sobbed, "How do you fix it? You slept with another woman, Danny. You cheated on me. My heart is shattered. How are you going to fix it?"
"Let me try." He whispered as his head dipped down, lips brushing against hers, "I love you, Lindsay Monroe."
Their lips fused together; lips bruising, teeth clashing, tongues dueling, and hands wandering. His fingers dipped beneath the dress shirt and found residence on her hips, lifting her as her legs wrapped a round his waist and her nails trailed over his scalp. Her lips slid from his mouth, over his stubble, down his jaw and to the juncture where his neck met his shoulder. She burrowed her head there and breathed in deeply, inhaling his scent and letting it calm her.
The next day morning light peaked through the white curtains of her apartment. The white dress shirt was now a few buttons short and resting somewhere in her hallway, but Danny had replaced it before they went to sleep, sliding the green tee-shirt over her head. Lindsay awoke slowly, her hands playing with the hem of the shirt that surrounded her with his comforting smell. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply before sitting up and pulling the shirt over her head, tossing it somewhere on the floor. Why wear his shirt when she could have him?