The Battle Rages

Spoilers for Obsession

The determined click of heels on tile of the precinct usually turned heads, and today was no exception, and thirty pairs of eyes abandoned the case reports and interview transcripts, following the luring sway of curvy hips snuggly accentuated by a black wrap around dress, the flared hem skirting around a set of slender calves. Danny Messer had passed by reception only moments before, all his concentration devoted to the case file in his hands, ignorant to the sound of stilettos on the worn floor.

Thirty pairs of eyes watched Melinda DiMontazzoli purse her lips and adjust her dress, revealing the swell of her chest just a bit before calling out to the CSI before her. She'd only been the receptionist at the precinct for a week and a half, but she'd made up her mind about Danny Messer the minute she saw the absence of a wedding band on his left hand.

"Hey, Detective." Lindsay looked up from her desk to watch Danny cringe as the new receptionist caught up to him, throwing him a suggestive smile as she handed him a pile of messages. She flicked a lock of curly, espresso hair over her shoulders, arching her eyebrow at him seductively, her fingers lingering over his for a moment longer than necessary.

"Oh, hey, thanks, Melissa." Danny read through the slips of paper as he continued to make his way through the precinct, turning away from her easily, his attention already caught by the message from his mother. He closed the case file, making his way to his desk, tossing the case file and message slips on the desktop before sliding into his chair and sifting through the paperwork that had accumulated, cluttering his space.

It had been a slow shift. Only one new case had come in, and Mac had assigned Hawkes and Stella, leaving Danny and Lindsay with mounds of paperwork and lots of time to wade their way out of it. She'd never admit it, but Lindsay couldn't help but smile at the thought of spending the entire shift with Danny in her line of sight.

"Cell phone not working, Mr. Congeniality?" he grinned, snorting a laugh as he rolled his eyes.

"Landed on it when Flack and I apprehended the suspect in the Nelson case. Adam said it'd be fine as soon as it dries out."

She listened to the soothing sound of muffled broken Italian as he called his mother back with their desk phone. She should have been startled at how effortlessly the rounded, curvy sounds formed words, tumbling off his lip, salted in his thickened accent.

"…Suona buon. Okay. Sarò sopra intorno cinque, allora. Yeah, yeah. Ti amo, anche."

It made him seem domestic, almost, or worldly, despite the fact that he had lived his entire life inside the borders of the city. She'd only heard him speak in Italian a handful of times, and it continued to fascinate her, disarming him of his rough exterior right before her eyes. She'd be lying if she said it didn't cause a welcome heat below her waist, but she'd never have to own up to it. He frowned at another phone message, crinkling it up and tossing it in the wastebasket by his feet without a second thought.

"Not polite to not return phone calls, Detective." Lindsay ran a hand through her hair, flicking her gaze to the man seated across from her, arching an eyebrow at his smirk.

"I'll take my chances, thanks." He sat back, pushing his delicate frames up the bridge of his nose. "Besides, it's not like Melissa has anything else to do." He nodded toward the reception area, where Melinda was picking at a hangnail.

"Melinda." Lindsay corrected as she turned back to her paperwork, listening to him rummage through the contents of his desk, opening a case file. "Who are you avoiding?"

"Some girl from the Idiot Run. The, ah, dominatrix. Carla." The pink rose in Danny's cheeks faster than Lindsay could smile, and he cleared his throat, turning back to his work. He'd wrapped the Idiot Run case yesterday, while she had been helping Adam with the copious amount of Trace. She hadn't even seen him all shift.

"Dominatrix, huh? That sounds like fun." She was teasing him, but he was glad to see her smile, even if it was at the cost of his dignity.

"I'm not into fun." He signed off on the case report, folding it shut and sifting through another. "Least not the brand she's selling."

The retort was lying in wait on her tongue, but her cell phone rang shrilly, demanding her attention. She frowned, recognizing the Bozeman number on the screen, her amused smile instantly fading as she flipped open the phone.

"Monroe."

"Detective Monroe, we're going to need you out here earlier than we had originally planned." The soft western twang of Bozeman ADA Kevin Donaldson hit her ears, and she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm sorry, Lindsay, the defense is makin' a stink about our only witness bein' two thousand miles away. They made a case to the judge about you bein' made-up."

"How soon?" Danny's eyes snapped up at the waver in her voice, but her hardened expression remained unreadable as she avoided his gentle gaze.

"Next week at the latest. We thought it'd work for you to just come in for the proceedings, but if we're gonna get the verdict we need you here for the preliminaries." There was a tense pause as Lindsay inwardly groaned. She didn't know if she would be able to make it through the trial, and now the possibility of an 'in and out' visit to her home state. Feeling Danny's eyes on her, she looked up, shaking her head to dismiss the concern in the blue of his eyes.

"Lindsay?" Kevin Donaldson pried gently; worried their call had been dropped.

She closed her eyes, gathering her wits about her as quickly as she could, clinging to the unraveled threads of her professionalism. She opened them again, rubbing her temple and resting her elbow on her desk, her gaze falling on the quiet muscle of Danny's arm, peeking out from under his tee shirt. She followed the muscle down his forearm, flexing casually as he scribbled notes in the margin of the file, her eyes falling on his slender hands, working mechanically, moving across the page stiffly. That was all he was. All he had.

It was all she needed.

"Okay."

"Alright. Preliminary hearings start next Friday, after jury selection. We need you here Thursday at the latest."

"Sounds good."

"See you Thursday? We'll have to brief you on your role, bring you up to speed with."

"Okay. I'll do what I can, thank you."

"Call when you know flight details, I'll arrange to have someone pick you up."

"Not necessary, I can handle it."

"Are you sure?"

"I hope so." Lindsay hung up, avoiding Danny's curious stare, shuffling through a report she had already finished.

"Everything okay?" His voice was soft, concerned, private, in the bustling, animated precinct. She threw him a forced smile, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear and feigning the ease that she had felt before her phone rang.

"Yeah." It wasn't convincing, and he wasn't buying her act.

"Lindsay?"

"Somedays the battle sucks." The finality in her response told him to drop it. She wasn't ready to explain, and he could understand. He hadn't said anything when she had come to him with the DNA results last spring. But, in due time, he had told her the whole story.

In time, she'd do the same.

A/N: I'm sorry, I'm a horrible person with the worst case of writer's block…and this episode was NO help.