BEFORE AND AFTER
Disclaimer:
Danny Messer belongs to me. LOL, just kidding! Both
characters belong to CBS, I am borrowing for the sake of entertaining
my fellow Shippers.
A/N: This is a one-shot, just for fun. It deals
with what happened directly before, and immediately after, the "Stuck
on You" bar scene. I tried to keep it non-fluffy and realistic
(yeah, stop laughing). My goal was to keep it accurate as far as the
characters' current feelings. Based more on thoughts rather than
dialogue.
BEFORE
Lindsay
Why did Danny make her nervous? She didn't know, but her heart was certainly pounding. A quick Google of Mac's name, and she had dug up exactly what she was looking for. The idea nested in her brain like the barn owl that once invaded their attic back home. He thinks he knows more than me, she thought. He thinks he knows me. Now was the chance for him to see her in a different light.
The little square Post-it note was so innocent looking, yet it beckoned her with a siren song of temptation. Just a few words added in blue ink – "Meet Me, 9pm, 173 West 15th, L.M." – and its entire chemical makeup had changed. She looked at it, frowned, and considered tearing it up. But the little devil perched on her shoulder chanted, "Just do it!"
With the fierce determination that got her this job in the first place, she peeled the note off the pad. Then she slapped it into the folder containing the lab results from the music promoter case. Right on top of the DNA results from the blood on the victim's jacket. He couldn't miss it.
She found him in the lab, and took a deep breath as she approached him. "You might want to have a look at this," she said benignly, sliding the folder across the table towards him. She walked out quickly, before she could read his face or see his reaction. Because even though she did not – did not! – mean it in that way, his refusal still would have stung. She grabbed her coat and left the lab.
Outside, she greedily sucked in the chilly air to soothe her nerves. The light above the bank blinked 7:02, telling her she has less than two hours to kill. Should she change clothes? No, she didn't want to look like she was trying too hard. Because she wasn't. It wasn't like this was a date, after all.
She had arrived at the bar early, wanting to get there first. As enjoyable as it was to see Mac onstage, she was preoccupied watching for Danny. Not because I have feelings for him, she told herself firmly. Because I want to prove him wrong.
And so here she sat, waiting. Berating herself. Of course he wouldn't come. Why would he? He probably already had plans with some gorgeous woman.
She
looked around worriedly, scanning the door. And when his silhouette
finally appeared in the dim light, she couldn't deny the rush of
electricity she felt.
--
Danny
Damn, even her handwriting was cute – with the little swirls on the "L" in her initial.
He sat stunned, reading and re reading the note. He rubbed his neck in confusion. Did Lindsay Monroe from Montana just ask him on a date? Exhilaration coursed through his veins, albeit tinged with panic.
He had always had a way with women. He knew how to use his charm to get what he wanted, without letting them get too close. Women were complicated, and he didn't need that in his life – it was fine the way it was.
Lindsay was another story. She had gotten to him, and gotten to him good. Just the other evening, he had walked into his apartment after work with images of her rolling through his mind like a screen saver. He was so distracted, he had forgotten to remove him glasses before stepping in the shower. As he mopped the hot water off his lenses, he found himself wondering what she was doing at that exact moment. What she looked like first thing in the morning, what it would feel like to walk down the street with his arm around her waist. By the time he snapped out of this fantasy, the running water had grown cold.
Sure, you could call it a crush. He would admit that. His only attempt at asking her out had been a feeble "you hungry?", which was promptly shot down. He still continued to kick himself for such a lame line. That woman could make him tongue tied. The very idea that he couldn't read her opinion of him, and the fact that it actually mattered to him, was extremely disconcerting.
She had shaken up his world, and that scared him. Hence his current situation of glee blended with fear. Surely this was a date. Why else would she ask him to meet her?
Now here he was, wandering down 15th street. His stomach was doing back flips. He approached the door of 173, and then stopped. What would he say? Hi? Hello? Hey? Or the old standby, the casual "Howyadoin"? Did that make him sounds like a player?
A glance at his watch told him it was 9:08. Fantastic - he was already late for their first date. Or was it really a date? Probably, but maybe not.
AFTER
Lindsay
She stared at the roof of the cab he had helped her hail, settling back in the seat as it pulled away. She was in a stupor. Yes, he had kissed her cheek. But it was absolutely nothing, she told herself, just a friendly goodbye. And she was glad they were friends, finally. It couldn't be any more than that, right?
But still, her cheek smoldered from the stubble on his chin. He wouldn't have kissed her if he didn't feel a connection, would be? Would he have kissed Stella? The questions ran through her mind.
She had spent the evening constantly reminding herself: he's a coworker, and he's not your type. Regardless, she had truly enjoyed the time with him. Chatting instead of analyzing lab results or prodding cadavers was a nice change of pace. There was something genuinely sweet about him, a side that was almost boyish. Together they had laughed like children over Mac's hobby, impressed by his talent but savoring the secrecy of it. Sitting so close to Danny was comfortable and familiar. He smelled like the woods in autumn, clean and spicy and musky all at once.
As the band's set came to a close, she had grabbed his hand and tugged him outside, before Mac could spot them. They had stood on the street, laughing and watching their breath come out in puffs. Then he hailed a cab for her, and that's when the kiss happened. The Kiss. On the cheek. Yet still a kiss.
She now struggled against the waves of euphoria that were rolling inside of her, threatening to pull her under. He was wrong for her; there was no doubt about it. Then why did it feel so good? He was fun to be around, and she was attracted to him. There was no denying that.
The cab pulled over outside her apartment complex, and as she slipped out into the night, she rummaged in her pocket for the key. Instead, she came out with a folded piece of paper. She paused under the street light to examine it. It was, she realized, the very same yellow post-it she had given to Danny. He must have snuck it in her pocket. She turned it over and smiled when she saw his scratchy handwriting. It simply said:
"You were right, Monroe."
Just what she had wanted to hear. With a grin, she resigned herself to the fact that maybe – just maybe - there was the smidgeon of a possibility that something more could happen between them.
Perhaps.
Only
time would tell.
--
Danny
Oh, he was confused.
What were her motives in inviting him here? Were they entirely innocent? If they were, then why had she smiled at him like that? Surely she wasn't that cruel.
She had grabbed his hand – but was it only to drag him out of the club before Mac spotted them? Dare he hope it was an excuse for physical contact? No woman before could ever stun him with the touch of her hands. They're so soft, he had thought, in a trance. He would have let her pull him to New Jersey.
It was cute how she tried to hail a cab, and couldn't. Being able to help her, and teach her things, made him feel all masculine and protective and warm. As she had crawled into the cab, he held the door open and smiled at her, drinking in her chocolaty eyes one last time for the night. Sitting across from her for over an hour had not satiated him.
"So, our little secret?" he asked. They had decided not to tell Mac about discovering his Wednesday night haunt.
She smiled back conspiratorially. "Our little secret".
He leaned in and kissed her cheek quickly. He was simply unable to resist. Without saying a word, he shut the door and tapped the roof twice with his fingers. The cab pulled away.
He wanted her – God, he wanted her. But at the same time, he didn't. He feared he would screw things up, like he always did, and Lindsay already meant too much to him. Well, maybe things could be different this time? He could try. Hell, this woman was worth it.
Now, as he watched the cab's taillights disappear, he wished fervently there could be something more to this secret they shared.
A/N: Please review! There is the possibility of a single follow-up in the future, taking place when they next see each other at work. But for now, I've got to get them out of North Dakota! LOL