Linda Reagan sat cross legged and stared at the long stitching on the backside of her calf. She had walked to close to some machinery, resulting in some missing skin. She traced it and sighed, hating it beyond belief. She knew it was going to leave a scar, she just didn't know how prominent the scar would be.
"Linda," Danny somewhat scolded when he heard her whimper.
"I'm sorry, Danny. It's just gonna be so ugly. I hate it. I absolutely hate it."
"Don't." Danny kissed her cheek and ran his hand over the stitches. "I bet it won't be bad. I'll bet you won't even notice it."
Linda stuck her ankle out and placed it in Danny's hand. "See this?" She pointed to a small, dark scar on the left side of her left ankle.
"What is it? A funky birth mark?"
"It's a scar. From when I was sixteen. My Mom said it'd go away. And it hasn't. It's still there! Just like the stupid gun wound ones! They're never gonna go away!"
Danny dropped Linda's foot, letting it land in his lap. He cupped her cheek with his hand and kissed his babbling wife, slowly and sweetly. "Linda?"
"Mmm... Yeah?"
"It's not ugly."
"Yes, it is! It's ugly, making me ugly!" She stood up and ran to their bedroom, tears falling.
"Linda..." Danny sort of chuckled and followed her upstairs. He lingered at the door for a minute, so she could cry some of it out. He opened the door and sat on the bed, looking at his wife with her face buried in the pillows.
"I'm ugly, and you hate me for it."
Linda's voice was muffled and shaky.
"D@mmit, Linda!" Danny let his frustration with the matter boil over. "You always say that whenever you get a new scar, even if it's temporary. You've been saying that for eighteen years. And what's happened?"
"You tell me I'm wrong, and you'd never leave me. But this time may be different!"
Danny had to bite his tongue form shouting. "Linda, Listen to me. You are an amazing human being. You're smart, funny, attractive, beautiful, clever, sexy as hell..."
"I never understood that expression," Linda sat up and wiped her tears away. "Hell is bad. Why would somebody want to be compared to hell?"
Danny smirked, "Wanna know what I like most about you? Other than your personality and the fact that you're the sexiest person I've ever seen."
"What?"
"I love these hands of yours," he took her hand in his.
"Why?" She asked, a smile coming to her face.
"Because you've accomplished so much with these hands. You've raised two wonderful boys, saved lives, cooked amazing Sunday dinners and holiday feasts. But mostly I like how you use 'em on me." Danny bit her neck, making her giggle.
"I knew that one was coming!"
Danny laughed, "feel better? Cause, you know," he continued to suck her neck, "I could do this all day."
"Or maybe till we have to get the boys?"
Danny smirked, "you're the one who's sad. You decide."
Linda smirked, kissing Danny. "They've got practice today?"
"Yep," he slid his hands up her shirt.
Linda stole a look at the clock, "Wanna go for the record?"
"Like you needed to ask!" He flipped Linda on the bed, enticing her infectious laughter.
"You always know how to cheer me up," Linda smiled as Danny kissed her face and neck, "even when we were teenagers. You'd always bring me Storks Orange."
"Mmhmm."
"Then you brought me chocolate covered strawberries when Storks went outta business."
"We've got some chocolate strawberries."
"Huh!" Linda pushed herself up a little bit. "We do?!"
"I was savin' 'em for Saturday, but I could always get more." Danny smiled, loving how Linda got excited over chocolate.
"Can we have wine, too?"
"As long as we keep it under the limit."
Linda smirked and shimmied our from under Danny. "I'll go get it. Want white or red?"
"You're the one who's sad!" Danny called after her. He smiled, gloating a little bit.
