A/N: The pacing of this story is kind of slow, I know. I just really enjoy a slow burn I guess. As always, let me know what you think.

He was tired, exhaustion burrowing into the very fibers of his muscles. The long flight home had been unconducive to sleep, whether it was the child crying two seats away or his own stomach churning as he thought about his return. He'd sat in the cramped quarters, knees pushed up too far, fidgeting as his nerves worked away.

He hadn't told any of them, just bought his tickets and shouldering his solitary carry-on as he boarded the jet. No one knew he was coming home. He'd spent the evening with Georgie after their conversation on the balcony, taking one last leisurely stroll along the cobbled streets of paris. The city looked much different without the weight of unhappiness sitting on his shoulders.

And now he was back, strolling once again along the dingy sidewalks of New York City, looking up at the weathered brick edifices. The city was strange at this time, a few hours shy of dawn. Not quiet, not loud, stuck in some sort of limbo.

His destination loomed ahead of him, the stained glass windows dull without the light of day filtering through them. He slipped through the doors of the stately structure, grateful that the place was open all hours for those in need or prayer, or simply a quiet place to think. Out of habit he dug in his pocket for loose change to drop in the alms box, remembering too late that all he had were a couple of euros.

He didn't have a place to call home in the city anymore. His mother had her open plan apartment, a youthful setup not really good for house guests. His feet hung uncomfortably off the end of her couch when he tried to sleep on it. And, he wasn't entirely sure he wouldn't be interrupting something at this time of night.

His old room at Ben's? He supposed it was still there, the walls bare, his closet empty. The bed was probably even made up for a change, but he couldn't go there, not now. He couldn't risk running into Riley, sleep rumpled, maybe even wearing one of Ben's t-shirts. He didn't think he could take it, his guard completely knocked down by fatigue. It was too risky, the urge to pour his feelings out without assessing the situation too tempting.

So he would wait, here. The smell of melted candle wax and some incense he couldn't quite place, clung to the long wooden pews. The scent caused some synapse in his brain to fire, some odd nostalgia to crop up. He wasn't catholic, but places like this had always given him some small amount of comfort, a feeling that there was something larger than himself out there.

He shoved his bag against the end of the pew, leaning on it, his head dipping down to rest on his chest. He would rest, a little, his mind finally quieting enough to let sleep overtake him. When the sun rose he would run down his mother, tell her what he'd decided about his future, and ask her to help him find a place to live.


He woke to the sharp pain of bright light pouring in through the floor to ceiling windows, a painful crick in his neck making itself known as he sat up. He hadn't intended to sleep so long, embarrassment sending a flush up the back of his neck as a demurely dressed woman stared at him. She fingered her rosary and immediately went back to praying.

He quickly gathered his things and slid from the pew, exiting as gracefully as possible. His shin whacked hard wood trying to escape, and he stifled the reflexive urge to curse. Some how the fluidity with which he moved on the ice did not transfer to his movements in the real world.

The woman was glaring at him now, and he cast her the most apologetic look he could muster, fearing that actually vocalizing his apology would only make things worse. He didn't dare disturb the austere silence surrounding them.

Shouldering his bag once again, he left the building, wincing slightly at the bright sunlight. It was definitely later than he'd intended. He glanced down at his watch, confirming the late hour. It was almost ten a.m. How could he have slept so long in the church?

Damn it. He'd hoped to catch Bonnie before she went to work, get a good breakfast out of her, maybe unload the weight of the world from his shoulders. Whatever she could do would be helpful, even if it was only in a Bonnie Wheeler kind of way.

He sighed as he trudged along, continuing in the direction of her apartment anyway. It's not like he had anywhere else to go. No cell phone to call anyone on, no cash to grab a cab. He really should have called ahead. His mother was a busy lady, socializing, working, harassing his brother. She really could be anywhere.

He didn't look ahead of him, instead peering at the sidewalk, absentmindedly noting the cracks as he walked. It was something only really tall, really big guys could get away with, other passers by generally making way subconsciously. It's not like he did it all the time, he knew it was rude, but he was preoccupied at the moment, his thoughts understandably elsewhere.

He felt her before he saw her. A sharp elbow right in the solar plexus, a knee sharply striking his shin before she flew across the sidewalk, landing in a heap with an audible squeak. He'd ran directly into her, or maybe she'd ran into him. He wasn't entirely sure.

The dainty little blond scrambled on the sidewalk, collecting her purse and briefcase, muttering angrily to herself the entire time. "The nerve of some people, just taking up the whole damn sidewalk, like they own New York City or something, not even looking where they're going…"

Before she could completely collect herself and her belongings, Danny was at her side, his arm resting gently at her elbow as he attempted to help her up, a chorus of 'i'm sorry's' already tumbling from his lips.

She jerked away from him, finally pulling her attention away from her things, only to cast an angry glare up at him. "Who do you think-"

She stopped abruptly, the ire immediately morphing into utter shock. "Danny?"

"Riley?"

She nodded back at him, momentarily rendered speechless. Grasping her elbow, he lifted her up. It took everything he had not to crush her to him, to band his arms around her and never let go. Instead, he politedly brushed some dirt from the sleeve of her blouse.

The motion caught her attention and ended her temporary muteness. "Danny… I don't understand. What are you doing here? Weren't you just in Paris?"

He nodded, the lump in his throat making it difficult to speak. How had he gone so long without her? It was strange, but he felt himself scanning her appearance, trying to memorize every little thing about her that had changed in the few months he'd been gone. Her hair, it was slightly longer, the front curling under, framing her face in a flattering way. And she seemed… different in other ways too. It wasn't something he could place, but he was sure it had to do with her eyes. They were still impossibly large pools, but the look she was giving him… it was unplaceable.

He swallowed, pushing through the tightness in his chest. "Uh, yeah… I got back last night."

"What? Ben didn't say anything." She frowned, a little wrinkle forming between her eyebrows. "Neither did your mom, and you know she's incapable of keeping her mouth shut about anything…"

"They didn't know, uh… still don't." He felt his heart beating against his sternum and wondered if she could hear its wild thumping. He was sure she could, the blood rushing past his eardrums with each beat.

"Then where did you stay?" There it was, that part of her he'd known since childhood. The relentless interrogator. God, she was going to be an amazing trial lawyer when she finally spread her wings. He was strangely proud of her for this tenacity.

"Nowhere… um, I mean… obviously not nowhere. I sort of… hung out at St. Anthony's for a couple hours, didn't want to bother anyone."

"Why didn't you let us know you were coming? Someone could have come and picked you up at the airport."

"It was kind of… sudden." He looked at her sheepishly, not ready to divulge the details of his breakup. He bit the inside of his cheek nervously. Holding his breath, he silently willed her not to ask about Georgie.

Of course she understood. Her eyes widened, and she swallowed audibly. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry, Danny." Her voice was soft, one hand coming up to rest on his arm sympathetically.

"It's okay… really." And it was okay. He knew he'd made the right decision. He belonged here, with his family, his team… her.

She smiled, relieved that he seemed to be alright. She shot up on her tip toes, arms flinging up around his neck. "It's so good to have you back. I missed my best friend."

It was almost too much for him… almost, but not quite. She felt soft and impossibly small against him, the citrusy scent of whatever perfume she wore wafting up, filling his senses. This time he did let his arms circle around her, allowing himself a friendly hug. "I miss you too."

As far as friendly hugs went, this one seemed to be a bit longer than usual, her arms around his neck a bit tighter. When they finally did break apart, things were slightly awkward. Riley pulling away first, nervously fidgeting with her hair. "So, uh, you headed to your mom's?"

"Yeah, but I don't know if she's home."

Riley looked at her watch, frowning. "Yeah, she's not gonna be there. Her realtor business has really taken off lately. She's kind of hard to pin down. And I wouldn't suggest looking for the key she used to hide in the plant in the hall. Some drama involving Tucker and a damaged waffle iron."

She laughed, the tinkling noise music to his years. It faded away all too quickly. "Oh, and you're old bedroom is kind of… inaccessible. There's a leak in the basement storage and the guys have a bunch of random junk in there."

Danny laughed uncomfortably. "Looks like I'm a man without a country." He honestly felt a little lost. It was strange being home, and yet not.

Struck by a sudden idea, Riley began digging in her purse. She smiled broadly when she found what she was looking for. "Here, go to my place, no one's there, and I don't get off till pretty late. I actually don't spend much time there these days." Awkwardness settled over them again as the meaning of her words sunk in. She tried valiantly to recapture her nonchalant tone. "You can crash and let your jet-lag wear off before you track down your mom." She slapped the key against his palm. "Just don't eat every single thing in my fridge."

He smiled sadly, a wave of hopelessness hitting him unexpectedly. What the hell had been thinking? Things were the same as when he'd left, only now he had an even smaller place in everyone's life. He looked down at the key, slightly warm against his palm. In an alternate universe this tableau would be the cause of much different feelings, and it almost made him sick when he thought of how things could have been. "I can't make any promises."