A/N: warning, I couldn't help but add angst, it wasn't the original plan...it just happened. I'm thinking this fic will be completed in another 2 or 3 chapters.

'Tis

I wanted to hear what Danny had to say; I couldn't wait for what he had to say. In my head I was hitting my knees praying it was forgivable. I thought I might just die in the pizza place if he told me I had meant nothing. Perhaps I wouldn't fall flat-faced into the pan of pizza, but I'll just die inside like shriveled up prunes.

Because I thought I loved him. I didn't think I was able to tell him that yet, but I knew it inside. Part of me had been shattered so long ago and no amount of glue could hold it up straight; that had been something worth leaving behind. A series of conflicting feelings ran through me and I wondered if I really knew what love was. God knew I wanted to.

At five we clocked out and went to the locker room to get our belongings. Danny kept looking at me, and I kept stealing glances at him. He looked nervous and worried, that in turn made me worried. My head was spinning, so I appreciated the silence between us. Mac came in a little while later demanding that we stop dawdling and to get a good night sleep. Before he left the room, he turned back to remind us he didn't want to see us for at least twelve hours. Danny "yes sir"ed and I nodded, before walking out of the lab towards Danny's car.

I had gotten used to the silent rides and this one was no different. This time the pithy quiet between us was like a tightly wounded spring threatening to hit us unconscious. I was grateful for the radio filling up that gap with noise. Lights were flying by me and the glass was cool against my forehead. The city was so colorful and vibrant that it was almost ironic that so many people find reasons to die in it everyday. I felt Danny's eyes on me and leaned back into the seat. Skyscrapers loomed before me, and all I saw were concrete buildings adorned with lights and layers of dirt and grime. I wasn't about to wish to turn back time and delete the existence of my NYC experience, but there are times I desired to be able to see undisturbed skylines and rolling hills.

Soon, Danny parked the car and I recognized the familiar setting. We were at Joe's Pizza, a place we hadn't been to in ages due to trying schedules and DB's that insisted on being found near dinner time. I stepped in and sank into the seat of a cozy booth in the back corner, the scent of oil and cheese mingled in the air, and my stomach rumbled. I watched as Danny ordered the pizza and started fiddling with his napkin. Some time passed and the food arrived, he had yet to say anything.

I served myself and sighed, "You can tell me your great story now, Danny."

I was a grown man! Why was I so nervous about giving her a simple explanation? It wasn't even rocket science, and it shouldn't even be worrying.

"That woman was Lisa, she was an ex-girlfriend." I saw the look in her eyes and hurriedly added, "From high school. Anyway, we haven't been in contact since graduation and she's getting married soon. That kiss was only a goodbye kiss. And, she kissed me first. I swear, Lindsay, it was nothing else."

She wore a vaguely incredulous look. "That's it?"

I nodded, a little sheepishly.

"This is your long story? It was barely half a minute long."

I struggled to find a come back line, "I can be concise."

"I can tell," she bit into the pizza and pulled a string of melted cheese that had stretched and flopped down her chin.

"So, uh… do the circumstances entitle forgiveness?"

A pensive look crossed her face, "why should I believe you?"

Thoughts were formulating in my head and before I could find a coherent one, she smiled, "I forgive you." Huh, that got me confused.

"Really?"

He looked at me with skepticism in his eyes and I had to let out a laugh. Then I sobered myself and stared at him before speaking. "You've got that look that says you're not lying. Maybe you think you've got your poker face perfected, but whenever I see that look, I know you're being honest. Besides," I pointed the edge of my pizza in his direction, "I want to believe you." He had been searching for words to say and something flashed in his eyes, the blue contorting into a twisted river that bubbled with verity.

He smirked that classic smirk that had made me fall in love with him. I felt like I was falling – beautifully, gracefully, with pointed toes, a gorgeous skirt and glitter in my hair. I didn't know how exactly to describe the look he displayed on his face whenever he was being passionately truthful, neither did I comprehend the feelings within me that convinced me to buy the story he was selling. Was that love? Was love an enormous enough force to make any resolve we make for ourselves pliant?

"There's more to that story, and now since I've got your trust, I can tell you later, after pizza." I wondered if he knew what his voice sounded like at that moment. He had intended to sound cute, but it was, in fact, soft and rumbly. It reminded me of thunder rolling in the distant, where the sound traveled across the country side, rolled off valleys and melted into the lakes.

He was growing confident and I wondered what was up his sleeves. I must've wondered out loud because he threw me a cocky grin and teased, "Two beautiful biceps that you like. A lot."

I rolled my eyes, but the sides of my lips twitched upwards on their own accord. It felt great, this calm after the storm. I'm a distant person, always have been. It wasn't that I had zero emotions, but I boxed them up, labeled them, and kept them in a shelf until they were covered in dust. That way I'm in control; that way things will never explode in my face. Yet, ever since I came to New York the boxes have been rattled and torn open, and I was spending way too much time taping them back up. It seems, try as I may, no matter how much duct tape I use, emotions seep through the cracks and engulf me when I least expect it, or when I least desired it.

We finished the pizza and she cocked her head at me, asking me to tell her what I had intended to earlier on. I grew nervous again, butterflies were ricocheting off my stomach lining. I had the need to evade the question in her eyes a little while longer and paid the bill before standing up and stretching out a hand to Lindsay. It was a tentative action for her, but she took my hand and pulled herself up. Perfect fit. I remembered the first time I held her hand. I guided her out of the pizza place and we both leaned against the car.

"I think you've stalled enough," she spoke, curiosity evident.

I closed my eyes, and willed the courage to find its way to my being. This was it. It was the best opportunity I've had since my revelation and I was not about to let it go.

Things were moving in slow motion as I took a step closer, invading her personal space. "I love you." The words left my mouth in a whisper and I watched as Lindsay's eyes flicked to the cars whizzing past us in the background. Two seconds later, she looked back up, searching my eyes with hers. Her eyes had always told me what I needed to know, and I was disappointed when they darkened. She was guarding herself and she knew that I knew it.

I stepped back, "I'll drive you home." It was a relief to let her know how I really felt, but the results…left much to be desired. She swallowed and I unlocked the car doors. Things were going back to awkward again.

The journey to her apartment was silent, as had any drive with her for the past week. When we arrived under her apartment complex she reached over and touched my arm.

"Danny, I..uh…"

I turned to face her, but fixed my eyes on the clutch, "It's okay. Don't say anything you don't mean."

"Um," her fingers left me and she unbuckled her seat belt, "I was going to say I didn't know you felt that way. Can we…maybe, talk about this tomorrow morning?"

I nodded dumbly.

She opened the door, "I need some time to sort things out."

I nodded again. 'Course she did, what kind of idiot confesses his love for a woman after pissing her off severely?

"I don't dislike you, Danny," Lindsay said quietly before closing the door and running up to the elevator.

I drove off into the dark and ran my hand over my face, why did things never go my way?

A/N: Do review. I need constructive negative feedback, and please tell me if what I write is believable. Thank you.