A/N: Sorry so long since I updated- holiday season + sick in bed no time for writing. But I'm feeling better now and so things should start trickling in again. Warning: next few chapters will be on the mushy instead of the funny side, but its necessary for the plot. Just hang in there and it'll be chortle-inducing again real soon. Merry Decemeber!

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It was mid-October, and the team was having one of its all-too-rare nights out. It was Hawkes' birthday, and as the poor guy had had a fairly crappy year everybody decided he needed a break. Danny had ulterior motives- he thought that Hawkes was just about the funniest drunk he'd ever encountered: when he was sober, he seemed like such a normal guy but once he had some alcohol in him, it was readily apparent that he was MENSA member. He'd always bust out his terrific party trick of doing ridiculously complicated math problems in his head. Danny loved it- the smartest guy in the lab was barely able to stand up but still able to do Calculus in just seconds. Plus, he'd rattle off the most obscure facts on any number of subjects- one time he'd given Danny a lecture on the history of wine making in Western Europe, another time it was the mating habits of the platypus.

Everyone else had secondary motives too: besides wanting Sheldon to have a good time it was the calm before the storm. For some reason, as Halloween neared the crime rate always jumped up. Not only were there more crimes, but they tended to be weird crimes that required lots of work to process- wacko cult members, delusional teenagers who think they're vampires, plain old sick fucks who like to paint with people's blood... Needless to say, it was a very busy time of year for the crime lab.

So everyone was enjoying the opportunity to let their hair down. They were at their regular bar and a bunch of them were crammed into a little booth. Lindsay, Tricia, and Stella were talking about something but he couldn't really understand them (so that meant the topic was shoes or something- never quite sounded like English to him). He glanced around the table and had to smile when his eyes rested on one of his friends. Adam was sitting there with a goofy-ass grin on his face, staring at Trica- a goofy-ass grin that Danny identified with because he knew he certainly sported it enough. It was the grin that said "I'm not really sure how this (meaning a wonderful relationship with a woman who's way outta my league) happened but damn am I happy." He was glad to see Adam so ecstatic; the couple had had some rough spots (especially in the beginning) due to his massive insecurities. He'd asked her so many times if she was sure she wanted to be with him and not someone more sophisticated or better-looking that Danny had to pull him aside for a little talk ("Listen, buddy, if you keep naggin' her about being with some other guy, eventually she's gonna want to be with some other guy. Don't question it- just enjoy it").

His eyes wandered around the bar. Mac couldn't make it (not surprisingly), but Peyton came and she was shooting pool with the birthday boy, reminiscing about their time in the ME's office together. Flack was just wandering around because he was one of those 'friendly' drunks (meaning he tended to walk about being borderline obnoxious to everyone). Danny watched him saunter up to Hawkes at the pool table. He clapped his arm around the doctor's shoulder and asked him, "So Sheldon, what's the angle on that shot you're about to make?" Hawkes, who was also a bit buzzed, thought for half a second and said, "39 degrees." Flack laughed and Peyton immediately joined in-as she was actually good at math the questions got more and more complicated. Danny grinned as he heard his friend babble about the trajectory of the billiard ball Peyton had just sunk as well as something about logarithms. THERE we go- out comes Hawke's inner Rainman…Hehehe…

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Later that night, as Lindsay and Danny were standing by the jukebox arguing over what songs they wanted to hear Flack wandered over to them and gave them a big smile. "So when are you crazy kids gonna get married and start with the spawning?"

Danny turned quickly to see Lindsay's reaction- as he'd dreaded, she flinched like she'd been slapped in the face. Which in turn made him flinch. All the color ran out of her face and she looked down at the ground. "I have to go to the ladies room- I'll be right back." Danny caught her hand before she left but she just shook her head at him, so he let go. Flack looked at his friend, confusion evident on his face. "Whoa, sore spot there Messer?" Whatsa matter- why won't you marry the girl? You're never gonna find anyone better for you…I thought you were all ready to commit- buy a damn ring!"

Danny glared at his friend, then his eyes softened as he looked at the door his girlfriend had just disappeared through.…It's not me, buddy. "It's a little more complicated than that, Flack…Don't mention it again, please?" Flack just nodded- he was lost as to what just happened but Danny said 'please' so rarely to him he knew it had to be serious. He shook himself, as if to rid himself of the last few minutes, and went to bother Stella. Danny just stood there by the jukebox, waiting for Lindsay to come back.

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Meanwhile, Lindsay was splashing cold water on her face, trying to fight the redness and tears. WHY did Flack have to say anything? Things were going so well…She was really content with the life she had with Danny- he loved her, she loved him, they lived together, they were happy…Why does it have to get more complicated than that? We're fine! What we have now is good. It doesn't need to change. People should just leave us alone…Mind their own damn business, they don't know what we want.

She thought about it for a few more minutes then sighed as she admitted to herself that Danny did want more. He never said anything about it to her, but she was paid to be observant and his body language gave him away. Like when they would cuddle on the couch watching TV, arms wrapped around each other, it was always just the underside of her left ring finger that Danny would unconsciously caress. And sometimes when he thought she was asleep he'd place a hand on her lower stomach and rub it gently as he'd sigh happily and whisper, "Someday."

She sighed again. Therein lay the problem. Danny wanted more, and she was honestly not sure she could give it to him. When Tom was killed, it obviously was devastating but finding out after the fact that he was planning on proposing was a horribly painful twist of the knife that already pierced her heart. It took too much out of her to mourn the loss of Tom as a person and the man she loved; she just didn't have it in her to mourn the loss of the future life they could have had together. So she came up with an unusual coping strategy- she convinced herself that she didn't want to get married, that she'd never wanted to get married and thus the loss of what she almost had didn't sting so much.

This being Lindsay, when she thought of something she rolled up her sleeves and jumped in with a desire to be effective and thorough. She did research- she had statistics about the divorce rate, spousal abuse, and estimated numbers of unhappy marriages and incidents of infidelity in the US. She read super-radical feminist books about how outdated marriage was as an institution and how it should be banned if only because of its terrible chauvinistic history (i.e., women being considered property). She read about how most of American society no longer considered marriage necessary to be respectable- you could live with a man and even have children with no ring and be considered normal. Weddings themselves were dismissed based on the average cost as well as the case studies about the stress involved in planning one. Lindsay did not do things by halves. She even selectively edited her memory to try and erase any Barbie marriages or teenage perusals of Bride magazine- after years of telling herself it hadn't happened she eventually believed it.

This wasn't something she'd only done right after Tom was killed- it was a practice she'd continued for the past 10 years. Like she'd told Danny, she never dealt with her issues and all her grief and simply continued to keep herself numb. When she began working as a CSI, she looked up studies about the number of law-enforcement personnel who had failed relationships due to their crazy hours and the unpleasant and dangerous nature of their job and this was her excuse as to why she avoided serious relationships. As for kids, she loved them but she told herself that she didn't want any because her job was too important, time-consuming, risky, etc. In her heart of hearts she knew all of this was complete bullshit but she just couldn't admit it. The wall Lindsay had built out of statistics and rationalizations to protect her heart wasn't just made of bricks; it was made of steel and cement. Ten solid years of lying to herself and convincing herself that she hated marriage and everything it stood for and that she would never succumb to its nefarious clutches was not easily overcome, not even by six months of bliss.

But then again, Danny could be a wrecking ball. She smiled through her tears as she realized all the progress she'd made so far with him by her side. Maybe I'm not a hopeless case after all… The wall that kept her from taking things to the next level with Danny was still intact but there was reason to believe that cracks were appearing. Then it was just a matter of time before it came tumbling down. It had no chance of surviving the force of nature that is Daniel Messer. God bless his stubbornness…it's exactly what I need.

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When she finally emerged from the restroom, she saw Danny standing exactly where she'd left him, his face filled with concern. She knew that some of the remnants of her tears were still visible and that it would only make him more upset so she quickly wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest as he engulfed her in a hug. After a few minutes she looked up at him with a small smile. "I'm ok, honest Danny…" Or I will be, at least. Just be patient with me…She had no doubt in her mind that he would.

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