This took a little longer than expected ... well, here's the second part.


Danny blinked open his eyes and ran a mental check of his body. Toes – wiggling. Legs – asleep. Arms – twitchy. Chest – achy. He groaned, the previous day's events coming back to him full force.

"Finally," Flack mumbled from Danny's right. Danny turned his head and saw his friend stretched out in a chair, his arms folded tight against his chest.

Danny grinned.

"You've been out for almost a day now," Flack yawned, stretching his arms. He collapsed back into his chair with a grunt. "It's about time you woke up," he grumbled.

"I appreciate your compassion," Danny chuckled hoarsely. He winced as he shifted in his bed, slowly forcing his body to move again.

"Ease up," Flack said, concerned, "You just had surgery." Danny heeded his advice, though continued to slowly move his limbs.

"The surgery wasn't the hard part," Danny snorted.

"I guess it's not often you get shot in the chest."

"No, I don't really make a habit out of it," Danny shot back. "So … did you … you know, get the guy?"

Flack nodded. The perp had been falsely accused of assaulting and killing a teenage girl, and, once the thought had christened his mind that he might be taken off to jail, he'd pulled out his gun and neatly placed a hole in Danny's chest. After Danny had gone down, a light buzzing had started in Flack's head. He'd turned, his vision had narrowed on the stunned perp. He'd chased the guy for all of two seconds before toppling him to the ground, all the while screaming for someone to call 911.

"Is, uh," Danny started, flexing and moving his fingers, "Is Montana around?"

Flack's face split into a wide grin. He shrugged, "She's around here somewhere, I guess" he said lazily, watching Danny's reaction.

Danny frowned disappointedly. "Oh," he said quietly.

Flack laughed. "I'm kiddin', Danno, she's barely left your side since you got in here."

Danny smiled. "Oh, yeah?"

Flack nodded and ran a hand over his face, forcing himself to wake up. "Stel and I got her to take a break a little while ago. She fell asleep. I'm actually supposed to go get the two of them when you wake up. You awake?" he asked, getting up.

"As awake as I'll ever be," Danny grunted. He put a hand on his chest, feeling the bandage through the thin hospital gown he was wearing. "Am I … uh … gonna be OK and alla that?"

Flack nodded and smiled. "They got the bullet out – it was kinda close to your heart, so they got a little worried, but it's all good. Some rest, chicken noodle soup, and you'll be fine."

When Lindsay walked cautiously into the room a few minutes later, Danny nearly got the wind knocked out of him for the second time that night, though for entirely different reasons this time.

"You look … uh … really nice, Linds," he managed.

She blinked and smoothed down her hair. She had very little idea what he was talking about. Her makeup was smudged, her hair slipping from the previously polished hairstyle she'd arranged before learning that her date had been shot trying to apprehend a suspect.

"Thanks," she said quietly, "How do you feel?"

Danny attempted a weak shrug, then winced. "Well, pretty groggy right now, but give me a few days."

She sat down in Flack's recently vacated chair and took a breath. She looked around the room, taking in Danny's beeping heart monitor, his bandaged chest. She awkwardly smoothed down her silky black dress. Her gaze caught on the opened window.

"Do you want me to close it?" she asked nervously, her voice hushed.

Danny shook his head and closed his eyes. He reached out blindly and picked up his glasses from the bedside table, where they were folded nicely next to a glass of water.

"I woulda listened," he said gruffly.

"Excuse me?" she asked, folding her hands in her lap.

"I woulda listened to you. I wouldn'ta jumped in and interrupted. I didn't have to be unconscious. You just have to talk," he continued, "that's all."

Lindsay watched him open his eyes, look at her, then turned his head away. He frowned at the wall.

The room was filled with their breathing – Lindsay's tired, even sighs, and Danny's labored, shallow ones as he tried to catch his breath.

"I know I shouldn't expect so much. I know you're not as open with me as before … before it happened."

"Before what happened?" Lindsay asked almost tauntingly. She caught herself, pushed away the bitterness, and apologized, "I didn't mean that. Sorry," she whispered.

Danny looked at her, and really saw her, for the first time that night. "I love you, too," he murmured, "And I hurt you – really, really, bad – and I'll spend the rest of my life fixing that."

Lindsay nodded, biting her lip. "Not yet, though," she said pensively.

"What, now?" Danny asked, blinking stupidly at her.

"In three weeks."

Danny blinked again.

"You have a hole in your chest. Flack and I are going to switch off babysitting you for the next three weeks. Then you can start being my slave."

"Your … your slave, huh? I don't remember mentioning that in my apology," Danny laughed weakly.

"Well, how else do you expect me to forgive you?" Lindsay asked, crawling up onto Danny's bed. She settled herself in the curve of his arm, and rested her head on his shoulder.

Danny chuckled and started stroking her hair with one hand. "I dunno. I was expecting you wanted flowers and wine and picnics and alla that crap."

"Well when you say it like that …" Lindsay said sarcastically.

"I'll make another reservation at the restaurant I was takin' you to tonight. For three weeks from now, yeah?"

Lindsay nodded. She closed her eyes and burrowed into Danny's body. "Perfect," she muttered, "Now get some sleep."

Danny kissed her forehead, wincing at the strain it caused his bandage, and closed his eyes.