Episode Tag: 05x09, "Under the Gun."
He finishes his beer, drains a second one, then goes upstairs and gets his pajamas out, making as much noise as he can.
"If you're just gonna be a jerk, you can sleep on the couch," Linda mumbles from under the covers. "This couch…I want you in the house."
"All right, I'll sleep on this couch," he snaps, and goes into the bathroom, slamming the door.
He strips, turns the water to scalding, and gets in the shower.
How had things gotten this bad?
He just wants to keep her safe. He hadn't meant to sound like he was some medieval head of his household who controlled what his wife could and couldn't do. That's not what he'd meant when he said, "You're the one making jokes if you think I'm gonna let you go back without security. You're not going back."
She has to be safe, or else…
He turns the water to freezing.
Linda working at the mobile hospital—with few street-lights and no freaking security—anybody could pull anything. And apparently had. Some punk $$#0l# had threatened his wife with a knife.
And she hadn't called him.
She's supposed to be safe.
The only way he can do his job each day and run headlong into danger—is if he knows she's safe.
He shivers, finishes his shower and turns the water off.
"I let you work at the hospital, don't I?"
That hadn't come out the way he meant it, either.
He gets dressed and goes back into their room.
He can hear Linda sniffling, but he's too mad to apologize just yet.
He grabs his pillow and the blanket that's folded at the foot of the bed, and stomps downstairs.
The next week passes slowly. He misses the boys' science fair due to work, and hopes Linda makes it, but doesn't check with her.
He stays at work later each night, wishing Linda were on the night-shift so at least he could sleep in their bed. He knows better than to presume she wants him back, before she explicitly says so. He grabs a (cold) shower every night at the precinct before going home to sleep on the couch and eat the leftovers she's left in the fridge.
Friday, Baez grabs the keys out of his hand. "I'm driving so we both make it home alive tonight."
"What's that supposed to mean?" he snaps.
"Whatever is still going on with you and Linda—has been going on for five days now—and if you keep driving like this, you're gonna get both of us killed. I'll do the driving today, give you some time to examine your conscience like a good little boy so you can go to confession and make up with Linda."
He rolls his eyes. "Did Linda call you?"
"No. But I woulda taken her side if she had. She's fully capable of taking care of herself, Danny. That thing you told me you said—about 'letting' her work at the hospital—you better take that back, and take it back all the way. Total 180˚. 'Cause Linda is too independent and strong-willed to let that stand—she has to be, to put up with you."
"Now, what's that supposed to mean? Aren't you supposed to be on my side?" he gripes.
"On the job, yes. When you've been a misogynistic jerk to the love of your life—I'm takin' her side. Fix this," Baez says, glaring.
He gives her the side-eye and changes the radio to her least favorite station.
Sunday night, after they break for air, he holds Linda's hands so she can't look away. "I'm sorry, Linda. I…I didn't mean to disrespect you. Ever. I just…I want you to be safe."
She looks at him, her blue eyes still ice-cold. "Do you understand what I meant when I said I need you to never disrespect me again?"
He nods. "Yeah. I know we're partners in this…equal partners. I can't pull the 'I'm the head of the household' crap that my dad and his dad and their dads before them, pulled. You won't stand for it. And…and you shouldn't. That's not…you have as much of a say as I do, and I'm sorry for what I said about 'letting' you work at the hospital. I…it won't happen again. Forgive me?"
She nods, holds his hand to her lips. "It better not happen again. Now,
He nods. She isn't going to like the next thing he has to say. "Working at the ER, you're safe. They have security guards…I don't worry about you when you're there. But the mobile hospital…"
"It was just a…one time thing, Danny. We don't need security."
"Maybe you don't, but I do. I need you to have security. I can't lose you. When you…when you were kidnapped a few years back…I can't go through something like that again."
"They're working on getting a security guard for the nurses who work there. Someone who'll patrol the perimeter, run off anybody who's lurking."
"I wanna meet whoever this guy is, make sure he's not just rent-a-cop."
"I'm sure you can figure out how to do that, Danny. Do you…do you remember why I went back to work at St. Victor's?"
He nods, still feeling ashamed that his paycheck wasn't enough. "Yeah. We needed the money."
"Exactly. I'm still helping people, but…I don't feel like I'm making as much of a difference as I can at the mobile hospital. That's why I'm working there, too."
He nods. That makes sense. They each want to make a difference in their respective jobs.
"What are we gonna do with…that?" Linda asks, gesturing to the gun like it disgusts her.
He sighs. "NYPD has a gun buyback program. It hasn't been fired, hasn't been used in any crimes; you should get $200 for it. I'll go in with you to take it tomorrow morning; I don't have to be at work until 8 p.m."
"You're working nights?"
He nods. "Yeah. Got the short straw this week."
She runs her fingers through his hair. "You've been showering at work all week…cold showers?"
"Maybe," he shrugs.
"Will you come join me in a hot shower?" she asks, standing up and tugging on his hand.
"On one condition."
"And what's that?"
"I need you to promise me that you'll be more careful with your safety."
Linda freezes. "I can't, Danny. Not when I never know if you're gonna walk through the door on your own two feet, or if I'm going to be going to the hospital or the morgue, at the end of every shift."
He sighs. "It's not that bad, Linda."
"Not promising—not unless you promise you'll stop rushing headlong into danger without a thought for me or the boys."
"I promise," he says.
She kisses him and undoes his tie. "Then I promise to be a little more vigilant when I'm at the mobile hospital—aware of my surroundings and all that crap."
"Thank you," he says, and peppers her with kisses, punctuating each one with an "I love you" and "I'm sorry" until they're both divested of their clothing.
He's gonna try to not make the overprotective mistake again…