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"Danny?"

Surprise, no shock to see him and that was understandable. It had been almost ten years. "Hello Gabby," he said, almost shyly, smile warm but cautious.

But he should have known better because Gabrielle had always been a friend – a good friend, something he'd had so few of. Something he really hadn't been able to recognize at the time. Why they'd drifted apart was something he'd lost to time, but he knew, deep down, that it had been his doing. Her arms flew around his neck, pulling him into her apartment and hugging him tightly all at the same time. He smiled softly and returned her embrace, the smell of her dark, shiny hair flashing memories through his mind with a quick ferocity. Late nights studying, even later ones out at clubs, bars, a flurry of activity that she'd somehow managed to escape whereas he'd been pulled into an alcohol soaked oblivion.

But she'd been there for him then – before he'd pushed her away anyhow – and now, he didn't know where else to turn. It had been a few weeks since his feelings had come to a head and he'd pleaded with Martin for time. Not that they'd stopped seeing each other in the mean time. No, they continued on in a strange sort of limbo, neither willing to step away from the situation and take a break because they were both terrified they'd never get it back. At least, Danny was. He couldn't be sure of Martin's feelings because where he'd once been open with him he stayed silent now, some sort of self-preservation, Danny could only guess. It made sense and Danny knew it would be hypocritical of him to admit how badly it hurt. And the whole relationship was beginning to break…slow cracks formed from the foundation up and growing wider with every passing day. Things were strained and awkward between them and Danny knew it was his fault. He'd asked for time, yes, but he hadn't done anything with it. He'd let his thoughts fester alone, not taking anymore time to examine them closely, not talking to anyone about it…really, just hoping it would all go away. But it hadn't, and that was why – after the argument he'd had with Martin earlier in the evening – he'd finally decided to take action.

Gabby had hardly been the first person on his mind when he'd left Martin's apartment. They'd argued over something stupid, something so insignificant that Danny honestly couldn't recall what had started it even though it had only happened a few hours before. But so many heated insults and cold looks later, he'd left softly, a sad look in his eyes as he'd met Martin's tired gaze. He couldn't do this anymore; couldn't go on hurting Martin the way he was. He lay awake many a night and watched the other man sleep, agonizing over the pain he knew he was causing him. It was the last thing he wanted.

He'd gone for a walk, ignoring the chill in the air and everything else around him. The city was loud and almost glaring at him but he disregarded it, forcing all thoughts from his mind except the ones he feared the most. Martin. Their relationship. The feelings he'd never planned on having.

Danny knew that talking to someone was a good idea. He didn't make a point of sharing his problems and feelings with others often, but he knew it could help. Knew that quite well from experience. And he'd tried for so long to figure this out on his own and had gotten nowhere, so it was a last resort of sorts that made him want to find someone he could talk with. Trouble was, he couldn't think of anyone. The four people he saw more than anyone else were his colleagues. There was no way he was talking to Jack or even Sam for that matter, even though something told him that she'd be a good listener and that she'd want to help. Even Vivian, whom he trusted almost implicitly, seemed like a bad choice. He didn't want her checking up on him in the future.

He'd stopped, frozen on the sidewalk when Gabrielle's face had popped into his mind. Wrenched from his past and smiling at him through memory, he hadn't even thought about it as he'd caught a subway to where he distinctly remembered her apartment to be. Second thoughts had only begun to show up when he'd reached her building. It seemed almost impossible that she still lived in the same place. And even if she did, why would she want to see him? How would she be able to help? Would she even care?

Sighing with relief when he saw her name on the list of tenants, he pushed the small intercom button and waited, nervous and shivering from the cold. A few moments that seemed much longer than they really were passed before her voice, warm and inviting, came on. There'd been a pause after he'd said his name; one that he'd expected and he'd held his breath, a big part of him just expecting her to not answer.

But she'd let him up and now he hadn't a clue where to begin or even if he should. She smiled, curious but happily, and offered him something to drink. He shook his head and thanked her as she slipped him out of his coat and hung it haphazardly over the back of a chair. He smiled to himself, memory flashing strongly in front of his eyes. He saw them here years ago, books strewn out before them on the floor, neither of them doing much studying as they ate pizza and drank beer, watching some random sporting event on TV. Gabby had been big on sports, and oddly enough, though they never did much of it together – too much talking and laughter – she was big on studying too. Which left him to wonder why she was still living here, in the same small apartment in the Bronx.

She motioned for him to sit on her couch and she did the same, sideways so she could face him, curling her legs beneath her, arm resting on the back of the sofa. He turned, a small smile on his face and studied her for a moment. Her dark hair was still long, curling a bit at the ends near her shoulders, her eyes just as dark and naturally curious. Her skin was a soft sort of tan color and other than the small laugh lines that were beginning to show around her mouth she looked almost identical to the girl he'd been friends with his first few years of college.

"So?" she prompted when he didn't say anything right away. "You show up at my doorstep after God knows how long and you don't have anything to say?" she asked, a smile on her lips but an underlying anger gave her voice an edge to it that reminded him squarely of his mother. He swallowed hard, looking apologetic but before he could say a word she continued. "And I'm sorry to say Danny…but you look like shit."

He couldn't help grinning over that because she'd never been one to mince words and it was something he'd always loved about her. He'd befriended her because she was beautiful and – though he'd never wanted to admit it to himself – because she spoke Spanish and reminded him of home. Only the few good parts of home…the parts that he missed on rare occasions. He'd tried to snag a date with her but had left her less than impressed by his skillful flirting and smooth lines. On his next try she'd agreed to study with him but only after a careful warning to not even think about trying anything. Every other "date" after that had led them deeper and deeper into friendship that when they'd finally kissed, months later, it had been awkward enough for both of them and had left them giggling, embarrassed and forever embedded in the friends-only category.

"I'm sorry Gabby…I honestly didn't know where else to go. You just…sort of popped into my head tonight…" he said softly, a tentative smile on his face.

She frowned, hand running absently up and down her cotton pajama pants. "Something's wrong," she noted perceptively. He was both grateful and nervous for the way she jumped right into the situation, apparently willing to put on hold for a moment the fact that he'd shown up on her doorstep for help years after they'd last seen one another. "Are you drinking?" she asked, eyes narrowed in anger now. "Because I heard, a long time ago," she added a bit bitterly, "From a friend that you had stopped and I was so relieved Danny, even if we weren't…close anymore."

He hated the way she trailed off from anger into a lingering sort of regret, sadness almost. And her words hurt. Knowing that she had cared enough to worry, even though she'd probably known she couldn't have done anything about it, even though they had stopped being friends; she had still cared about him. He looked down; ashamed at the way he'd abandoned her in favor of alcohol and endless nights out. "No," he finally replied, voice hoarse. "I'm not drinking again."

She didn't say anything for a few moments, and when he looked up he noticed she was watching him curiously, the look on her face not sure if she believed him but then finding something that apparently satisfied her. She smiled softly and nodded. "Good. So…what are you doing here?" she asked, cocking her head to the side, looking more curious now than angry.

He sighed and looked away for a moment, not knowing where to start. When he finally turned back he shook his head, smiling sadly. "I'm in love Gabby," he murmured, his heart clenching painfully in his chest as Martin's face flashed before his eyes. "I'm in love and I don't know what to do," he added, hating how helpless he sounded.

He felt her move closer, hand suddenly on his shoulder, squeezing softly and he looked up, anchored to the warmth of her grasp. He let out a shaky breath as he remembered he didn't have to hide in front of her. "Being in love's a good thing Danny," she said softly, her tone gentle, her eyes slightly worried.

He shook his head, trapped. "I'm…it's…complicated," he stuttered, wondering when he'd lost the ability to speak clearly.

"I'm sure it is," she answered, worried smile still on her face. "Does she not love you back?" she asked.

The question hit him sharply, and he cursed his own cowardice. "That's not it Gabby…"

"Is she married?" she pressed on.

He could only shake his head, shame flooding his heart, his cheeks turning slightly red.

"Where are you working now Danny?" she asked.

He looked up, startled by the abrupt subject change, but he answered dumbly, "The FBI…Missing Persons."

He didn't miss the look of shock that crossed her features before she nodded. He knew that after he'd made his confession, after he'd asked for help that he'd have to relate his history also. She wouldn't let him leave without explaining himself. Explaining what had happened when they were in college, the way he'd almost ruined everything he'd worked so hard for – had ruined it – only to find a second chance and a new path.

She nodded thoughtfully now, pressing a finger to her lips. "Ah," she said, smiling brightly, finger raised in the air. "FBI…there's gotta be a lot of strict rules about sleeping with coworkers and all that, right?"

He could only nod, swallowing hard.

She smiled, brighter now, proud of herself. "Then that's it, right? She's a coworker and it's so not allowed. So tell me, what's her name, Danny?" She was practically grinning now, leaning closer and playfully hitting his arm when he didn't answer right away. He would swear it was eight years earlier. "Danny, come on talk to me! You come all the way over here for my help or whatever, the first time I've seen you in what? Ten years? And now you're just going to sit there and--"

"It's a guy," he blurted out, interrupting her stream of words, his eyes locking with hers and not looking away.

The shock, the flash of disbelief was plain to see and she looked away first because Danny couldn't, wanting her to see the truth of his words, almost daring her to challenge them. She didn't say anything for a few moments and Danny waited, let her absorb his words and braced himself for her reaction. She met his gaze again, eyes curious and slightly confused. He watched as she narrowed her eyes, searching his, looking for some sort of explanation.

Her expression was still wary and she shook her head before squeezing his shoulder again and taking a deep breath. "What's his name?" she asked softly.

He let out a sigh of relief, still watching her; thankful and impressed over the way she'd reacted. She was definitely surprised, but she'd forced herself past it for his sake. A small smile on his lips, he looked down, blushed a bit – which made him think even more of Martin – and moved closer to her. "Martin," he replied, voice just as soft as hers. "Martin Fitzgerald. He um…he is a coworker, which…well that makes things even more difficult," he murmured, unsure where to go next.

"Fitzgerald," she replied after a few moments. "You went right for the high class bunch, huh?" she asked, teasing him gently.

He let out a shaky breath and laughed softly, meeting her eyes again. "Yeah, it's not pretty. He's Victor Fitzgerald's son…he's the deputy director of--"

"I know who he is," she snapped, though not in an angry sort of way, another quick look of shock passing over her face. A pause and he shivered when he felt the unexpected touch of her fingers in his hair. They were of like minds, gravitating towards touch, some sort of human contact for comfort; it made him smile again. "Tell me about him Danny," she requested, voice tender and genuinely curious.

He smiled, blushing again – something which was really starting to annoy him – and he nodded, almost unconsciously. He started at the beginning, from when Martin had joined their team, all the way to where he'd left things this evening. The words spilled out of him easier than he would've thought and once he'd started talking it was almost impossible to stop until he'd said everything. Confessed his feelings, everything he'd done, the fear that was eating him from the inside out.

"I just…God Gabby, I just don't know what to do," he finished, breathing deeply, eyes pleading with hers, lost and searching for an easy answer. "I'm so damn confused," he said, exasperated. "When I'm with him it's so…so easy, but then, I don't know, everything just gets so mixed up and I end up hurting him the way I did tonight."

"But you love him," she said simply, eyes soft.

He nodded fiercely. "So much," he replied, voice hoarse now, no longer able to look at her. He ducked his head, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head when he felt her hand on his cheek. "But I don't know if I can be what he wants, what he deserves. I…I keep getting caught up with the same thoughts and…" he paused, angry with himself for so many reasons.

"You're scared," she commented, voice soft but unreadable.

"Damn it, yes!" he said, voice louder. He stood up, agitated now and began pacing. "I am scared! I feel like my whole life's been some sort of lie. I've never even looked at another man in that way and now I'm in love with one? If I think about it for too long it drives me crazy. I end up going over my whole life, wondering, looking for clues, trying to figure out if there was some other time, even if just for a second where I was attracted to another guy." He ran his hands through his hair, still pacing, body rigid and full of frustration. "Then half the time, I berate myself for being such a coward, for wondering why I care so much. And it's not…it's not even what other people would think because I could care less. It's…it's me," he said, stopping his pacing to turn and face her, eyes wide and earnest. "I'm the one who's afraid, confused, lost…and yet he makes me happier than I've ever been. So why…Jesus Gabby, can you tell me why I'd want to give that up?"

She shook her head and just looked into his eyes, searching for what, he didn't know. But she was contemplating her answer, he could tell from the thoughtful look in her gaze, in the way her head was tilted just so. However, before she could really answer him, the two of them were yanked from their thoughts by a small, soft sound.

Danny looked over, across the room and behind Gabrielle to see a child, a girl no older than seven, rubbing her eyes, looking sleepy and curious all the same. "Mommy?" her soft voice carried through the sudden stillness and silence that had pervaded the apartment.

Gabrielle met Danny's gaze for only a second – enough time for him to see her stern look of warning, her plea for him to stay silent – before getting up and going over to what Danny could only assume was her daughter. He watched curiously, as Gabrielle picked the little girl up, murmuring gentle, soothing words to her, carrying her back the hallway and disappearing into one of the rooms.

When she came back a few minutes later, Danny was seated on the couch again. "My daughter, Theresa," she said as she sat down. He didn't recognize the slight tremor of uncertainty in her voice and when she met his eyes there was a strange mixture of pleading, pride and rigid determination there. "This is…this is why I still live in the same apartment Danny," she went on, voice taking on a certain edge to it, almost as if she were waiting for his condemnation, but would throw him out if he voiced it. "I got pregnant, senior year of college and didn't go on to grad school," she explained. "I've been working random jobs since then, waiting until she was older so I could go back to school. I just started back this past year," she added, watching him steadily.

"She's beautiful," he said warmly, smile soft. He moved closer to her and lightly squeezed her hand, wanting to convey that he understood, that there would be no judgment. He didn't ask about the father because he already knew this story, had heard it many times before and he knew it would only be insulting. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes, and Danny couldn't help the guilt that crept into his head, his heart. They'd been so close and he'd had to pull away. Hadn't been able to take her worrying, her watchful eyes…he'd only wanted oblivion and escape then. She hadn't been able to watch him slowly destroy himself and he'd let her slip away, glad to escape her concern.

"This has nothing to do with you," she said coolly, eyes narrowed. He looked up, surprised and wondered why he'd always been so transparent to her. "Please don't think that had you and I stayed friends that things would have turned out differently," she added.

He could only nod and look away. He let it go because he knew all about preserving one's pride and strength. Furthermore, he knew she was right. He wasn't about to start insinuating that he was so important that he could've stopped her from getting pregnant and having her life flipped upside down.

It seemed easier to let it go, although Danny had questions to ask, things he wanted to know. But he'd forfeited that right long ago and the look on her face left no room for argument and then she pushed past it, not willing him even a moment to approach the subject.

"Danny, why exactly are you here?" she asked, shaking her head as soon as the words left her lips. She smiled and squeezed his hand quickly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I really am glad to see you, I just...I'm not sure what it is you want from me," she said, smiling apologetically.

He smiled back, returning the pressure on her hand. "To be honest Gabby, neither am I," he said, laughing a little. "I just...I don't know, advice maybe? I needed to talk to someone and there's not many people that I'm close with right now besides Martin." She didn't say anything for a few moments and he found it impossible to continue holding her gaze, waiting, wondering what she could possibly tell him that would end his confusion.

"Danny..." she finally broke the silence, her voice soft and warm, waiting for him to look up again. "I've never known you to be this way...to be so uncertain or afraid. Granted we haven't even spoken in years but, I'd like to think I knew you pretty well back then," she said.

He nodded, swallowing hard against a profound sadness. "You did."

"I won't lie to you, this whole thing is rather surprising for me," she went on, sliding a bit closer to him on the couch, hand on his shoulder now. "You being here first of all and then to tell me you're in love with another guy when I remember quite well your reputation with women when we were at school," she said, smirking.

He laughed, blinking against the onset of tears and looking into her eyes. "Except with you," he teased, eyebrow raised.

She pretended to look pained, though her smile started to ruin it. "Alas, poor me," she said, laughing. "But seriously Danny...I can see why this would be so frightening, so confusing for you. I just...well, think carefully before you act."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I know what you want me to say," she replied, expression serious again. "You want me to tell you to give him up, that he'd be better off, that you'd be better off but Danny I...I can't tell you that. When you were talking to me about him earlier I could see how much you love him, how much he means to you and I think that if you let yourself, if you stopped thinking so much about it all that you'd be so happy," she said gently. He nodded, knowing in his heart that her words were true. But still his mind was relentless, running on a loop it seemed with all the reasons that he should step away. "And Danny?"

"Hmm?" he asked absently, frowning.

"I think you should talk this over with Martin." He started to shake his head, ready to protest that talking with Martin was the last thing he wanted, but she interrupted. "He's asked you to, hasn't he?"

"Yes but--"

"Danny really...don't you think you owe him that?" she asked, voice a little more stern now.

He glared at her for a second, but it didn't last. How was it that even now, after ten years apart, she still had the ability to entice his conscience out of hiding? Sighing he shook his head and smiled sadly. He couldn't say he'd changed his mind and that he'd open up to Martin, but she'd given him an outlet for his thoughts and he was already more than grateful. "Thanks for listening to me Gabby," he murmured.

She reached out and grabbed his arm before he had the chance to stand up. "Not yet," she said firmly, eyes flashing. "You're not going to leave that easily."

"I'm not going to disappear again," he answered, tired suddenly. "I promise," he added when she looked skeptical. Leaning forward, he pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly. "And I...I want to talk with you again. About this, about...the past. I just need to...well, I don't want to go the night leaving things the way I did with Martin," he said softly, comforted by the simple feel of her in his arms.

She pulled back, smile a little uncertain. She leaned closer and kissed him on the cheek before letting go, standing up with him and gathering his coat. "I'll talk to you again soon Gabby. And by soon I mean within a week or so," he added when she raised an eyebrow.

She smiled and squeezed his shoulder. "You'd better. And Danny?" she asked as she opened the door for him. "Good luck."

"Thanks."

He wasn't quite sure why, but he hadn't expected to come home to an empty apartment. Never mind that it was his apartment that he'd left, leaving Martin there alone. But the night was still and for the first time that he could honestly remember everything was quiet. The city seemed to be biding its time, waiting in silence for him, waiting to pounce.

He tried his hardest to ignore the aching of his heart as he walked into his bedroom, not bothering to turn on any of the lights, and shut the door behind him, wanting to block out the world. He shed his clothes and climbed into bed, squeezing his eyes shut briefly when he noted his first reaction to be that it seemed so empty without Martin. Before he could stop himself he reached for his phone and called the other man, holding his breath as it rang, half tempted to hang up.

Martin's voice was low and devoid of emotion when he answered. "Hello Danny."

"Why did you leave?" he asked softly, immediately. He pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping one arm around them, back against the headboard. If he shut his eyes he could picture Martin here with him, smiling, blushing, arms around him. Shaking his head, he realized that Martin had answered and he hadn't heard him. "I didn't hear you," he said softly.

Martin sighed, sounding tired and sad. Danny would swear he could feel his soft breath on the skin of his neck. It was as if they'd had this conversation already and were helpless to resolve it. "I said I didn't feel like staying there alone so I came home. I didn't know when you'd be back," he repeated, voice low, a small catch of pain that Danny wouldn't have been able to hear had he not been listening for it.

"I wish you'd have stayed," Danny murmured, wincing when Martin didn't respond. "Martin?"

"Yeah?" he replied. Danny hated the way his voice sounded so empty. He knew why though and it made sense. Martin was protecting himself from getting hurt, had been for a while, and Danny hated it. He had no real right to be upset he knew, but the feel of Martin pulling away from him was painful.

"I'm sorry," he said, sinking down further into his bed, suddenly very tired.

"For what?" Martin asked softly.

Danny shrugged as he yawned and shut his eyes, slowly remembering that Martin couldn't see him. "For fighting with you before," he finally replied.

He heard Martin's sigh, full of frustration and regret and he wished more than anything that the other man were here now. Here where Danny could hold him and try to comfort what he'd hurt. "Me too," Martin answered a few moments later. "I'll see you tomorrow Danny."

"Wait!" he protested, sensing how close Martin was to hanging up.

"What is it?" Martin replied, a slight edge to his voice.

Danny swallowed hard, wondering why Martin was so very able to take away his years of posh and polish. "I…I don't know," he answered sheepishly. There wasn't really anymore he could say, certainly nothing that would get him what he wanted: Martin promising to come back.

"Night Danny," he replied and hung up.

Danny narrowed his eyes in sudden anger as he flipped the phone shut. He was half-tempted to throw it across the room. He hated his own cowardice. He hated his sudden inability to make a decision. And he hated the way he kept on hurting Martin. It was the easy escape, reminiscent of his father, minus the drinks and the violence. But apparently, Danny was just as good at alienating the ones he loved.

He fell into a restless sleep a while later, his dreams blurry and dark, infused with pain and the sense that something important was slipping past his ability to hold it.

TBC...