A/N: Hope you like :D It took me sometime to figure out this one.

Notes

During the very quiet meal and return journey to the lab, I got to thinking about a plethora of things. Jackass boyfriends, inhumane criminals, crazy co-workers, and it struck me that I was glad Danny was with me on this case. Things were a little awkward, and truth be told, my anger had abated and all I wanted now was an explanation. He didn't owe me a life, but he did owe me a reason. Now that outrage and hurt was no longer controlling my frontal lobe, I realized with a pinch of guilt that I had be snarky and a little childish. So I promised myself (and Danny) no more of that puerile behavior. Certainly we could behave like two adults?

The next morning went by quickly. We retrieved the note from Helen and ran it for fingerprints. Thankfully, they were a perfect match to Thomas K. Our search had ended, and Flack's had just begun. He was a tad disgruntled when we called him during his lunch break and prodded him to find the suspect.

"Yeah, yeah, you guys owe me a meatball sub," He grumbled before hanging up.

What lay ahead of Danny and I now was the interrogation. I didn't want to do it, Danny's reminder about Sarah, well, forced me to see that I was getting too emotionally involved. As I stared in the murky cup of coffee, I decided that it was a more prudent course to let Danny handle it.

We were sitting across each other at one of those small circular bar tables in the break room; so close, yet so far. She looked lost in thought, and I was content just watching her.

"Hmm, Danny?"

I looked up, and was pleasantly surprised to see a hint of a smile on her face. The surprise must have registered on my face, because Lindsay gave me a sheepish grin, stared into her coffee cup, and started picking on the Styrofoam.

"Will you…will you do the interrogation later? I don't want to screw up."

I nodded, liking the blush that had settled on her cheeks. Like it or not, I knew her well enough to know she wouldn't tell me all her thought processes, or share all her feelings with me, so the very fact that she admitted that she had entertained the thought that she might "screw up" meant she was trying to say something in less direct ways.

"Kay, thanks."

Maybe I should say something? Yes, I should. "No problem, and Lindsay, you won't screw up."

She gave me a flitting flash of her dimples before standing up and going to the counter to refill her cup. I was watching the steam escape the coffee pot when Don strode in looking harried. "Suspects here, don't you guys ever eat lunch?" We both made unintelligible sounds and followed him to the interrogation room. We were so used to not eating lunch at all it was no longer an issue.

Thomas was a handsome man; green eyes, dark hair, aquiline nose. He barely fit into the tight polo shirt he was wearing and the bulging biceps beneath his sleeves were well sculpted. I concluded he frequented a gym and was probably strong. Mighty strong enough to push a five-five woman down if need be. I bristled at the way he eyed Lindsay – leering with suppressed malevolence.

"Commit any crimes lately, Thomas?"

He leaned back into the chair and folded his arms, "Nope."

"Alright, do you know Miss Helen DeGauss then?" I pushed the photograph forward and made sure he looked at it.

Green eyes glittered in defiance, "Nope." Lindsay snorted and he looked at her, eyebrow raised.

"DNA doesn't lie, Thomas," I kept the photo in the case folder, "Tell us how we found your sperm on Helen."

"Black magic, telekinesis, I don't know, you tell me." He smirked and winked suggestively at Lindsay.

"Fine. You drugged her, hit her, and raped her. Then you taped this note," I retrieved it from the folder and slid it across the table, "on her forehead. Subtle way of warning her to stay quiet, huh? Ever told her you were in jail before you asked her out?"

As he put on a mask of anger and gritted his teeth, I knew we had nailed him. Nah, we had squished him to the wall. "I'm gonna kill that slut."

"No you aren't, you'll be having the time of your life in jail. I'm sure you know how much the guys in high security love pretty boy child beaters and rapists."

"I want a lawyer," Thomas banged the table with his fists, making it rattle hard enough for both Lindsay and I to remove our hands from the table, "I want one now!"

"Sure you do, Thomas, but just how much can one help you? Before we let these guys take you away, tell me something. Why did you do it?"

He cussed at me, vulgarities spewing forth like from a broken faucet in the sewer. Two of the uniforms stepped in to haul him away just as he lunged forward.

"Bastard. Son of a bitch. Motherf…" I was muttering under my breath as I pushed the chairs in.

"Lindsay!" Danny laughed. So did I. It felt nice laughing with him again.

"What, can't I cuss?" I teased and gathered the materials into the file.

"'Course you can, but first, let's close this case file officially."

I groaned; paperwork was so not fun.

We were seated at our tables in the glass office which made me feel like a goldfish in an aquarium, facing each other, doing our paperwork when Danny finally broke the silence that had settled in the space between us for the better of half an hour. "You seem calmer," he stated.

I flipped the page before me and went to the next, "Uh-huh."

There was a rustling of paper and he tossed a scrunched up ball of paper to me. I uncrumpled it and couldn't help but smile.

I'm sorry.

I replied him. I know.

At 5 pm, we had completed our paperwork and the crumpled piece of paper was going to be a memento I intended to keep for a very long time. What can I say? Montana brought up my sentimental side.

I'm sorry.
I know.
Can you forgive me?
I don't know.
Please?
Would you forgive me if I kissed another man?
That depends.
On?
The circumstances.
OK, smart ass, what kind of circumstances? Do elaborate.
It's a long story.
Really? I want to hear this one. But not now, we have paperwork.
After work, I'll tell you. (If you let me.)
OK.
Can I ask you out for some pizza?
Sure, but only if your story's as good as the pizza.
It is, I think.
OK.
It really isn't what you think.
ALRIGHT, I'll keep an open mind. The faster we finish these papers, the earlier you'll get to tell your wonderful story.

Lindsay threw the paper ball back, chuckled lowly, and concentrated on the papers stacked on her desk. I stole glances at her, a small frown between her brows and a tendril of hair which she kept pushing back falling into her face. Perhaps absence had made the heart fonder, because I longed to run my fingers through her hair. I started fretting about what to say later that night.

A/N: Alright, that's the end of this chapter, I'm in the midst of figuring out the next one. Read and Review, please.