Title: Their Love, Her Murder

Disclaimer: Slash. Violence. Angst. Character death.

Author Note: You wanted it! Review please…

POV: Danny

Chapter Six: A Moment in Time

"Danny, what are you doing here?" Flack asks. He is standing in the doorway. When did he open the door?

"I…I…" I can't finish the sentence. My teeth are chattering. Why is the air conditioning on in this building?

Flack grabs my arm and pulls me into his place. It's nice. It didn't need a decorator. He did a great job. The whole place came together to make you feel warm and at home. My place was a little bare and boring. Flack walks around me, giving me a once over. The look on his face is a mix of amusement and worry.

"Um, Danny, didn't your mother ever tell not to go running in an autumn rain?"

I shrug. "I needed to get away. I need to clear my head."

"Well, did it work? 'Cause you just look really cold." He disappears into another room. I inhale deeply. The place smells like him. Why did I come here? Being here isn't going to help me any. I should leave. I should go home and sleep. I do have to work tomorrow.

"What, you going to ignore me, Messer?"

Flack is standing beside me. A towel and a pair of clothes in his hands. "Sorry, I think I spaced out. My head has been bothering me."

"Here," he says handing me the towel and the clothes. "You dry off and change. Then we'll see about getting some warm food into you." I hold the towel and the clothes. "Bathroom, that way," he says pointing.

I make my way to the small room. I sigh in relief. All the tension drains from my body. I take my time drying off and changing. The shirt and pants are a little too big for me but I don't care. I feel so good being dry. I feel warm. The warmth actually brings peace with it. A peace I haven't know for weeks now. It feels nice. I close my eyes. The pounding in my head slowly grows. Why won't it go away? I lean on the counter and gaze into the mirror.

You're in his apartment. Wearing his clothes. He doesn't seem to mind having you here, Danny-boy. Maybe…

A knock at the door makes me jump. "You alright in there?"

"Uh, fine. Be right out." Boy, that sounds stupid.

"Okay."

I start to feel nervous. The pounding in my head subsides for the time being. That's nice. I open the door and return myself to the living room. Flack isn't there. Where did he go?

"You want some soup or something?" He calls. The kitchen, duh, why didn't I think of that to begin with? Of course he wouldn't leave me alone in his apartment. He's too smart and cautious to do that.

"Did you hear me?"

"Huh?" It takes me a second to realize that I never answered him. "Oh, no, I'm fine. You don't need to cook for me."

He just sort of stares at me. "Man, you don't look too good. Maybe you should sit down."

He comes up behind me and moves me to the couch. He touches me. I feel myself blush a little. I can't believe this. I sink into the soft couch. My head stops pounding. He sits beside me. Ever so close. I can hear him breathing. In fact, all I hear is us. There's no TV. No radio. Nothing to cover up the silence; which quickly becomes awkward.

"Are you getting sick or something? Your looking pale. Plus, you did mention that your head hurt."

I shake my head slowly. "I think it's just stress. I'm dealing with a personal problem. It's causing me to mess up at work."

"Really? That reminds me, what did Mac want from you this afternoon?"

He's comfortable around you. Take it easy, bud. You're just talking to a friend. Nothing more. A friend that you have strong feelings for.

"I fucked up some evidence. Just another strike against me this week." I sound so pitiful.

"Maybe you should ask for some time off."

"I should, but I won't. I can't. Mac is mad at me enough as it is. No need to make it worse. I probably just need a good night of sound sleeping," I say.

He's quiet. I don't have to look at him to know that he's looking at me. Having his gaze locked on me makes the butterflies in my stomach act up. Aren't we supposed to grow out of this as we get older? Despite my chill I feel as though I'm sweating. I shouldn't have come here. I should have just run back to my place. It would have been better.

"Hmm, so, what's this personal problem? You want to talk about it?"

No, I don't want to talk about it. Not with you. You are the problem. "At the moment, no, not really. But thanks for the offer."

"I wonder," he mumbles. "Look at me, Danny."

"Hmm?" I turn to him.

He places his hands on my cheeks. I find it a little weird. My mind races as to what he's doing. Then his lips brush against mine. My breath catches in my throat. What is he doing? I feel my cheeks as they warm with a blush. He pulls away. But only slightly.

"Why…?"

"Your attitude gave you away, Danny-boy. The way you've been trying not to look at me. I even noticed the change in your mood when I was around. Forgive me for saying this but you've even seemed a little needy lately," he explains.

"Needy? Sheesh, thanks."

"When you called me for that late lunch today, I was glad to hear your voice. You want to know a secret? I had already eaten lunch. The idea of being with you for a while though, I didn't care. I said yes."

"Why?" I kind of feel like a broken record. My mind is still reeling with what he did. His warm hands are still on my cheeks.

"You're not the only one who has personal problems. Not lately. I figured…you know…" he trails off.

"I'm not alone?" I ask.

"No," he whispers.

He leans in again. This time I'm ready. The kiss is deeper than the first one. I feel the well-talked-about fireworks as the world around us vanishes. All I feel is him. His warms hands on my cheeks. His lips on mine. His body close to mine. I've hungered for it. I've dreamed of it. Now I have it and I want more. Like all good things though, the kiss comes to an end.

Wow.

He sits back against the couch. Not looking at me. I can see he's a bit flustered and there's a hint of blush to cheeks. I feel like I'm flying so high. Now I know why I ran here. I'm happy I ran here. I don't want to be anywhere else.

The glint of metal of the side-table brings me crashing back down to earth. Saddened, I lay my head against his chest. At first, he's unsure of what to do. Then I feel his strong arms wrap around me. I feel like crying. This is all I have wanted. Now I have it and I can't keep it.

"We can't do this," I say breaking the silence.

"Why not?" His tone is soft.

"We work together."

"Technically, yes. But, so? We're only working together if we get the same case. Otherwise…"

"What about them? What if they find out?"

He chuckles ever so softly. "Danny, you worry too much. No wonder why your head hurts. Just let life take you where you're meant to be. Forget about them."

We fall into a comfortable silence again. I listen to his heart beating. The rhythm is so nice. I see too many dead people in my job. It's nice to hear the sounds of a living one.

"Danny?"

"Hmm?"

"You're falling asleep," he says.

"Sorry," I mumble.

"Don't worry about it."

I hear him put his feet up on the coffee table. I should move. I should go home. He shouldn't have to sleep like this. Yet, he makes no attempt to move. And I feel so safe. Finally finding the peace I have been longing for.

"Flack?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you." He doesn't say anything in return. He just tightens his grip. I don't even think about the coming morning as I drift off to sleep. Wrapped in the arms of the one I love.