A/N: Can I just say thank you all so much for the amazing response to the first chapter of this new story? Really, absolutely, mind-blowingly fantastic. I'm so glad to be doing some angst again. I was really starting to miss it, so it's nice to finally have an outlet again, and I'm glad you've all decided to come along for the ride!
I really wasn't sure if this was going to be something I was going to carry on with, and I know I don't usually do this, but I'd like to say a special thanks to the following for their encouraging reviews: rapidtetv, TAsolo, Linoria, laurzz, unlikelyRLshipper, Dine89, juels4ya, Broe929, ZoeyBug, dannymesserforever11, afrozenheart412, and jorizo.
Surprisingly, I don't have much more to say in this Author's note. So I'll just say that this chapter contains some casework, and as always I'm not an expert… other than that, I hope you enjoy Chapter 2!
"So, what do we have, Danny?" Mac asked as he settled himself down in the chair behind his desk.
"What we got, Mac, is a big steaming pile of nothing," Danny replied tersely, slapping the thin case file down onto Mac's desk. "We got no ID on the vic, we got no fingerprints from the perp, we got a through-and-through to the vic's chest, which of course means we got no bullet, and we still got no idea where our primary crime scene is." He let out an exasperated sigh and ran his fingers through his hair as he sat down heavily on the couch in Mac's office. "I feel like I'm spinning my wheels here, Mac. I've been plowing through the stuff from this case all morning and all I got is my stupid gut instincts about some pin."
Mac stared across his desk at the young detective. "Don't beat yourself up, Danny," he said. "It's early yet. You have to be patient and just follow…"
"Yeah, yeah," Danny muttered. "Follow the evidence. I know." He looked up at Mac and gave him a wan smile. "Sorry. It's just… it's hard. Seeing this guy… Sid said our vic was tied up and beaten for at least 48 hours before the perp finally put him out of his misery. 48 hours, Mac. Can you imagine that? He had broken ribs, broken fingers, shattered kneecaps, not to mention his face." He shook his head and slumped down against the padded back of the couch. "What could he possibly have done to warrant something like that? I just don't get it."
"Well, that's a good thing, don't you think?" Mac asked. "I would be more worried about you if you weren't affected by it." He stood and walked around his desk, sitting down on the coffee table across from Danny. "We see this kind of thing all the time, Danny. Violent crime is a part of our daily lives. But even the most seasoned of us comes upon a case every once in a while that really gets to us. And I think that maybe for you, seeing someone beaten so badly might hit home on a more personal level, don't you?"
Danny knew what Mac was referring to. He was referring to his brother, to Louie, and how he had been beaten to a pulp and left for dead. Danny averted his eyes, concentrating hard on a random spot on the floor and mutely nodded his head.
"If this one gets too tough for you," Mac said, "You let me know, okay? No one would think any less of you if you needed to step back."
Danny cleared his throat and looked up to meet Mac's gaze. "Thanks, Mac. But I'll be alright," he said, pushing himself to his feet. "I gotta go and check on the blood samples Adam collected from the vic's clothes, and I'm waiting on Hawkes to finish with that pin."
"What is it about this pin, Danny?" Mac asked as he picked up one of the close-up pictures Danny had taken of it back at the scene, frowning as he examined it more closely. "Why has it got you so sure that it means something?"
"I don't know," Danny replied, shrugging his shoulders before gathering his case file and heading to the door. "It's just a feeling I have. I mean, it doesn't make sense. Why put it on backwards?"
"Maybe to draw attention to it?" Mac suggested. "Maybe it was something the killer wanted us to notice. Do you think you would have paid any attention to it if it hadn't been on wrong?"
"Huh," Danny said thoughtfully, pausing in the doorway to Mac's office. "I don't know. Probably not, I guess. I mean, I wouldn't have thought it meant anything special, you know? Probably would have just taken a quick look at it, catalogued it, and put it in with all the vic's other stuff."
"So maybe your stupid gut instinct about it isn't so stupid after all?" Mac asked, giving Danny an encouraging smile. "Follow it up. See where it leads you. Now go on and get out of here. Don't you have work to do?"
"You got it, boss," Danny said, striding off down the hallway toward the trace lab where he could see Adam and Hawkes working on his evidence.
Lindsay and Stella were heading back to the lab from the precinct. They'd spent their morning interrogating a suspect in their latest investigation, and he'd finally caved under their gruelling barrage of questions. After watching the unis lead him away to lockup, Lindsay and Stella had made their way back to the truck, chatting as they buckled themselves in and Stella pulled out onto the street. They'd been driving for a while when they came upon some heavy traffic. Stella had lapsed into silence as she concentrated hard on the road ahead of her, and Lindsay had taken the opportunity to think.
Last night had been amazing. Unexpected, but amazing nonetheless. Lindsay didn't know what it was that made her finally decide to make the first move, but she was glad she had. She and Danny had made out like a pair of star-crossed teenagers on the subway, giggling like children when they broke apart only to find themselves on the receiving end of a disapproving glare from the only other passenger on their car at that late hour of the night. The elderly woman had narrowed her eyes, clearly disgusted with their blatant display of affection, and Danny had responded by flashing the woman a cheeky grin before pulling his coat up over their heads, concealing them from her view as he pulled her close for another kiss.
When they'd finally stumbled into her apartment, she hadn't been able to get his clothes off fast enough. They'd tiptoed around one another long enough in her opinion, and she knew from the way he had been carefully keeping his distance over the past several months that if someone was going to break the cycle of cautious friendship they'd re-established since she'd returned from Montana, it would have to be her.
Thankfully, once she'd broken down the barrier, Danny had seemed to come alive, responding eagerly to her advances and finally taking the lead, carrying her to the bedroom where he proceeded to passionately ravish her body, leaving her panting, exhausted and immensely satisfied for the first time in a very long time. She'd been surprised at how easy it was with him, how there was no awkwardness, no uncertainty. Of course she had been nervous; he was Danny Messer, after all. She'd had her fair share of sexual partners in her time, but if the gossip around the lab was anything to go by, he had reams of experience behind him. So when she'd asked him to be gentle – it had been a long time, after all – she'd been shocked to see a light blush on his cheeks as he admitted that it had been a while for him too, and he hoped that he wouldn't disappoint her.
And he hadn't. Not by a long shot. Even now, hours later, her body was still tingling from his touch. She closed her eyes and let her mind wander back to her bedroom, remembering the way his hands had caressed her body, as if he was trying to memorize every inch of her by touch alone. And when the moment came and he finally entered her for the first time, she'd let out a sigh of relief. This is what it was supposed to be like. It was supposed to be passionate, tender, and beautiful. It was supposed to make her feel special, as though she was the only woman in the entire world. And it was supposed to leave her longing for more.
Which he delivered. Three times.
So, now she sat, shifting uncomfortably in her seat as she sped through the streets of Manhattan. Nervous butterflies fluttered around in her stomach as she thought about what last night had meant to her, what he meant to her. He was so much more than a friend to her now. He had been there for her when she had felt herself slipping away into darkness, drowning in the horrifying memories of her past. She didn't know if she would ever be able to thank him for being by her side, even though she had given him no reason to do so, having pushed him away and keeping him at arm's length for so long. What she did know is that now, all she wanted was him. What she wasn't sure of was whether or not last night had been it for him. She felt fairly confident that he was looking for more from her, more than just one night. Surely he wouldn't have waited all those months for her, only to cast her aside once he'd gotten into her bed? That may have been the Danny Messer that the nosy lab techs loved to gossip about, but it wasn't the Danny Messer that she had come to know. That wasn't the real Danny Messer.
"You look like you're doing some pretty heavy thinking there, kiddo."
Lindsay started, opening her eyes only to find that they had arrived at the underground parking garage below the lab. She turned to see Stella staring back at her with an expectant look on her face.
"Care to share your thoughts with the whole class?" Stella asked.
"Um… yeah. I was just… uh… I…" Lindsay stammered, flustered at having been caught while she had been lost in a daydream. She shook her head and gave Stella a sheepish smile. "Sorry. I just spaced out there for a few minutes. I'm fine."
"You sure?" Stella asked, concern flickering briefly across her face. "It's not… everything's fine back in Montana now, right? You're not still having those flashbacks are you?"
"Oh, no," Lindsay assured her friend. "No, nothing like that. Actually, this was a good space out. Really, everything's fine."
"Ah. So… a good space out," Stella said as she took the key out of the ignition and unbuckled her seatbelt. " You know, in my experience there are really only two good reasons for a woman to space out like that. One of them is chocolate… and the other is a man." She pushed open the driver's side door and stepped out, turning back to Lindsay and giving her a knowing smile. "Ten bucks says it's not chocolate."
Lindsay blushed and looked down at her hands, biting her lip in an attempt to hide the enormous smile she could feel beginning to spread across her face. She fumbled with her seatbelt before opening her own door and stepping out onto the concrete floor of the garage. She gathered her bag from the backseat, and slammed the door shut before falling into step with Stella as they headed for the bank of elevators at the far end of the garage. Having reached their destination, she hazarded a quick glance up at Stella out of the corner of her eye and saw that her friend was staring intently back at her, eyebrows raised while she waited for Lindsay to say something.
"Come on, Linds. Who's the guy?" she pressed.
"Who says there's a guy?" Lindsay said evasively. "Maybe I really like chocolate."
"Oh, yeah. Totally," Stella said, rolling her eyes and pressing the call button. "And maybe Mac will finally take a day off, and Flack will stop being such a wiseass."
Stepping into the waiting elevator with Stella, Lindsay let out a bark of laughter as the doors slid closed behind them. "Like that will ever happen. I think being a wiseass is hardwired into Flack's DNA." She looked over at Stella and gave her a shy smile. "It's just… it's really new, Stella. We're still figuring things out and I'm just not ready to talk about it yet. But I promise that when I am, you'll be the first on my list of people to tell, alright?"
"Fine," Stella sighed, graciously accepting defeat… for now. She reached out and laid her hand on Lindsay's arm, giving her a light, supportive squeeze. "But just tell me one thing, okay?" Lindsay nodded her head, and Stella continued. "Is he good to you?"
This time Lindsay couldn't hold back her smile. "Yeah, Stell. He is."
"Alright then," Stella said, giving Lindsay's arm another brief squeeze. "But just so you know, by my standards, there's not a lot of guys out there that would be anywhere near good enough for you, Linds. So if you found one that treats you like you deserve to be treated, then… then I'm really happy for you. You hang on to him, you got that?"
"Yeah, Stell. I got it." The doors opened on the 35th floor and Stella flashed her another smile before stepping out into the hall and heading off toward her office. "Hey, Stell?" Lindsay called out, and Stella paused, turning to face her. "Thanks."
"Anytime, kiddo," she said. Lindsay watched her walk away down the hall, her curls bouncing around her shoulders as she went.
"Hey, Danny? You got a second?"
Danny looked up from the computer monitor where he had been going over the photos he'd taken of the crime scene, trying with little success to find something new that would give him a lead on the case.
"Sure, Doc. What's up?"
Hawkes strode into the AV lab and pulled out a chair, sitting down next to Danny and plugging a flash drive into one of the computers.
"I got some info for you on that pin you asked about," he said. "After Adam took some samples of the blood from the face of it, I cleaned it up and I got a good look at it."
"Yeah? That's great, Doc," Danny said. He watched as Hawkes brought up an image on the screen.
"I still have no idea what it is or where it came from," he said as he typed commands into the keyboard, bringing the image into focus, "But…"
"I knew it!" Danny shouted, startling Hawkes with his outburst. "Sorry, Hawkes," he said, giving the former ME a sheepish smile. "I knew it," he said again, more quietly this time. "I just knew I recognized that pin. My friend's dad used to have one just like it." He sat back in his chair and shook his head, a wide grin on his face as he remembered. "Man, I haven't seen that thing in years."
Hawkes looked from Danny, to the image on the screen and back to Danny again, clearly perplexed as to why his friend should have such a broad smile on his face over something so pedestrian. From what he could see, it was a standard, gold-plated lapel pin with a small image of the Statue of Liberty etched into the face of it.
"Just looks like a pin to me, Dan," he said. "What's so special about it?"
"Oh, there's nothing special about the pin itself," Danny explained. "But for us, me and my friends when we were growing up, it was pretty special." Seeing the confusion on Hawkes's face, he elaborated. "See, I used to have this friend, Tommy Vanzella. Me and him were real close. Grew up on the same street, went to school together. Him, me and these two other guys, we were inseparable as kids. And it was Tommy's dad that had a pin like this."
"Okay," Hawkes said. "Still not getting why it's so special."
"Well, like I said, the pin itself wasn't special. It was just a pin," Danny said. "But see, Tommy's dad was kind of a neighbourhood hero. This big fire broke out one night, and he ran into a burning building and rescued some kids that were trapped in their home. Fire department was stuck in traffic en route, and if he hadn't have done what he did, they would have died. I think we were about seven or eight when it happened and I remember that everybody was so proud of him. There was this big ceremony where the fire department gave him some kind of an award for bravery along with this pin. It was a big deal for everybody back home, you know? There wasn't always a lot to celebrate in our neighbourhood, so when someone did something really good, it really meant something to us."
"Alright, so Tommy's dad got this pin," Hawkes said, looking expectantly at Danny to continue his story. "Is it unique? Or are there others like it?"
"Come on, Doc. Look for yourself, Doc. It's nothing special," Danny said, gesturing to the image on the screen. "I'm sure there must be a ton of them out there. Probably a dime a dozen. It's just… well, you know how I wear my grandfather's dogtags?" Hawkes nodded his head, and Danny continued. "It's because they mean something to me, right? To anybody else, these dogtags would be meaningless. Just scraps of metal."
"But to you, they're important," Hawkes said, catching on.
"Right," Danny said. "My grandfather gave them to me before he died, and I wear them because they remind me of him. Same with Tommy. His dad wore that pin everyday to remind himself that even a nobody from Staten Island could do some good in the world. And when he died, he gave it to Tommy. And I know that it was just as important to him as my grandfather's dogtags are to…"
Hawkes had been looking at the image on the screen, but when Danny's voice trailed off, he glanced over at his friend, puzzled by his sudden silence.
"Danny?"
Danny was sitting stock still, his eyes closed and his brow furrowed in concentration.
Why would he put it on backwards? Danny thought to himself. So someone would notice it. But even if they noticed it, why would it be important? It wouldn't. He shook his head and opened his eyes, staring intently at Hawkes.
"It wouldn't be important unless you knew the story behind it, Hawkes. If you didn't know the story, it would be just another pin…"
"Danny, what…" Hawkes exclaimed as Danny jumped to his feet and strode out of the office, nearly colliding with Lindsay who was passing by just as he came barrelling through the door. He mumbled an apology to her before breaking into a jog as he headed for the locker room.
Lindsay looked up and met Hawkes's gaze, the concerned expression on his face matching her own. She pushed open the office door and stepped inside.
"What was that all about?" she asked.
"Danny?" Lindsay asked as she approached the solitary figure standing in front of his open locker. "Are you okay?"
"I'm sorry about bumping into you like that, Montana," he said, his back facing her as he grabbed his jacket from his locker. "I just… I needed to get out of there."
She reached out a tentative hand, letting it come to rest between his shoulder blades.
"It's alright," she assured him. "No harm done." She began to move her hand, gently rubbing his back in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. She could feel the tension in his muscles ease ever so slightly at her touch. "You sure you're alright?" she asked. "Do you… do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really," he replied as he slid his gun into the holster on his belt. "I just… I need a minute. Can you give me a minute? Please?"
"Sure," she said. She took a few steps back, sitting herself down on the bench facing the lockers. He turned and looked at her, giving her a quizzical expression.
"Uh… I said I need a minute," he said, raising his eyebrows at her.
"I know. I heard you," Lindsay said. "So take your minute. And when you're done, I'll be right here if you need me."
Danny stared back at her for a moment before giving her a small, lopsided smile.
"You're really something else, you know that?"
"Yeah, I'm pretty special," she said, smiling back at him. "But then again, so are you. I don't know many guys that would wait for me like you did, Danny." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them and she dropped her gaze to her hands, which were fidgeting nervously with the sleeve of her blouse. "Not only that, but you were there for me when I really needed you. And… well, I just want to make sure you know that if you need to talk… about whatever's bothering you, or anything else… well, I hope you'll give me the chance to be there for you too."
"I would have waited longer, you know," he said softly.
"I know," she replied, looking up at him through her lashes, a faint blush rising on her cheeks. "But I don't think I could have. I… I'm really glad that last night happened, Danny. And… and…"
"I want it to happen again too, Linds," he finished. Her eyes still trained on her hands, she heard his footsteps as he approached her spot on the bench. He stopped in front of her and she looked up to see him smiling down at her, his hand outstretched. She placed her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet, enveloping her in his warm embrace as he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. She let her hands slide around to his back and she gripped tightly to him as she rested her forehead against his shoulder.
They held onto each other, neither saying a word, both of them just needing this moment with one another. Lindsay could sense that he wanted to talk, that whatever it was that was bothering him, he needed to get it off his chest, but he was holding back. So, once again, she stepped out of her comfort zone and bridged the gap between them.
"Hawkes said that you two were talking about a friend of yours when you took off," she began. "He said you suddenly seemed kind of… spooked. Are you sure you're alright?"
She heard him sigh and felt his breath against her neck. She struggled to maintain her composure, but she was all too aware of how close they were, and how easily their simple embrace could quickly turn into something more intimate. She wanted nothing more than to slip her fingers under his shirt, to feel the lines of his body under her hand as she had done the night before. She wanted to hold his face in her hands as she kissed him, and to feel his hands exploring her body as he deepened their kiss. But now wasn't the time, and the locker room wasn't the place.
Apparently, his thoughts were running along the same lines as hers, and she felt him tighten his arms around her momentarily, before he pulled away and took a step back. His face was tinged with a slight flush of colour, and he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand while staring back at her, gnawing thoughtfully on his lip.
"I gotta go," he said finally, turning and grabbing his wallet from the top shelf of his locker before slamming the door shut.
"Fine," she said, quickly keying in the code to her own locker. "But I'm going with you."
"Montana," he protested as she slid her arms into her jacket. "I'm just going to check on a lead. I'll be fine."
"I know you will," she replied, shutting her locker and turning to face him. "But I want to go with you anyway."
He shook his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "You are so damn stubborn, you know that?"
"Kind of the pot calling the kettle black, don't you think, Messer?" she asked, grinning back at him.
He stepped toward her once again, lacing his fingers through her hair and cupping the back of her head in the palm of his hand as he pulled her close and pressed a kiss to her lips. Her hands fisted the front of his jacket and she stepped closer, aligning her body with his. He ran his tongue along her bottom lip before letting out a frustrated groan and pulling away, resting his forehead against hers as he fought to regain his composure.
"Fine. You can come," he said, taking a step back from her. "But I'm driving."
She rolled her eyes as they fell into step beside one another, and Lindsay shivered slightly when she felt Danny's hand on the small of her back, gently guiding her as they walked down the aisle between the rows of lockers toward the door.
"So, where are we going?" she asked.
"To Staten Island," he replied, holding the door open for her and waiting for her to step through before he followed her out into the hall. "We're going to my old neighbourhood. I got a few questions for an old friend."
So? Some casework, a little history on Danny, a little bit of fluff… sadly, no smut. (yet!)
I hope the case is making sense and that the whole thing with the pin wasn't too confusing. Please feel free to review or PM me and let me know what you thought!
*rhymes*