A/N: sequel to Change of Plans, and reference to Bottled Poetry.

Disclaimer: not mine.

Oxygen

It's amazing how so many organisms can survive on 21 percent atmospheric oxygen. Oxygen is a god sent to everyone. We need it to breathe; we need it to burn a fire on a cold winter night; we need it to remain on our feet. Yet the tricky equilibrium of life never fails to stun us with Mother Nature tipping the scale slightly whenever we wish it to turn the other way.

She made up her mind when she woke up the next morning. I am not going to avoid him. Groaning and tossing the covers off her body, Lindsay sighed heavily. I am not going to confront him either. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and started getting ready for work. I am just going to pretend nothing happened last night. Smiling to herself, Lindsay sank into the comfort of denial and locked the door behind her, making her way to the subway station. Surely it was just a friendly gesture?

Danny, despite wanting to feel like Mr. Suave, found himself slightly nervous. He wasn't sure if Lindsay was going to step into the lab looking hurt and embarrassed, or glad. Something in him hoped she was affected in a good way. This was new to him; developing a crush (a manly crush, he reminded himself) on a co-worker and wanting to pursue her was uncharted territories. What if she hated him because of the night before?

Oh God, why is he always here when I come in? Lindsay sighed softly when she caught sight of him in the locker room.

"Hi." He whirled around when she entered and smiled.

Nothing happened, remember? "Uh, hi." She smiled back, cursing herself mentally when her smile came out more as a grimace.

"I'm going to Trace, you?"

"Yeah, me too." This is awkward.

"Want me to wait for you?"

Lindsay concentrated on spinning the combination of her locker, "Oh, there's no need. I'll catch up with you later." Yeah, that's it. He doesn't have to be everywhere you are.

He nodded and fled the locker room. When he was out of sight, Lindsay let out a huge breath and blew a strand of hair out of her face. It was going to be a long day.

The tension was great; so great you could cut it with a knife. They had hardly spoken more than two sentences to each other, let alone venture into their usual banter. Test tubes were passed in utter silence, and Lindsay chose the longest route with Danny out of the way to get to wherever she wanted. He ground his teeth in frustration, more because he didn't know how to handle the situation, than because bending over the fiber sample was causing a backache.

When it was time for lunch, Danny discarded his latex gloves in the bin and followed Lindsay out of the lab. She seemed to be in a hurry to get out.

"Montana." He called out. Is she angry or upset or happy?

You are not avoiding him. She reminded herself and stopped walking, causing him to bump into her. Crap! Lindsay jumped, literally, and probably would've screamed if she had not caught herself in time.

"Wow, somebody's jumpy today." Danny and Lindsay spun around simultaneously to face a smirking Don Flack, who chuckled, winked and walked away.

"What's his problem?" Danny muttered and turned to face Lindsay. She shrugged, and started moving away again. "Wait!"

Lindsay widened her steps; she had to go somewhere, anywhere. Okay, I am officially avoiding him. She laughed at herself mentally before slipping into the locker room.

Danny rolled his eyes when Hawkes accosted him three steps to the locker room. "What did you do?"

"What? Nothing!"

"Quick to deny, I see."

He gave Hawkes a stony glare. "See what?"

"Saw Lindsay practically running into the locker room. What? Did you make her cry?"

"No." Oh crap, did I?

Hawkes raised an eyebrow and patted Danny's shoulder, "You better talk to her, lover boy."

He growled and rolled his eyes as Hawkes walked away, whistling happily. Pushing the door open, Danny entered the locker room. He saw her pulling her purse out of the locker, pausing to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, and slam the locker shut.

"Lindsay."

She jumped at his voice. "Huh, what?"

"Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" She tried her best to be nonchalant, but knew she was failing miserably.

Danny reached both arms out and boxed her against the row of lockers. Lindsay looked at his hands and widened her eyes, as yesterday's events flashed through her mind. The closeness and heat was overwhelming. Any other day she could've handled it, but today was different. Today she just had a desire to run.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" She asked softly, barely audible.

"Kissing you."

She was hurt. "Oh, well if that's that." Lindsay managed to hide the waver in her voice and ducked under his arm to get away from him. "I need to be elsewhere."

It was only after she left, swinging the door fiercely and slamming it with a resounding bang, did Danny realize the folly in his words. Shit. "I didn't mean it that way." He mumbled to no one in particular.

Lindsay ran out of the building into the sunshine frowning, willing the tears that were prickling in her sockets away. The damn bottle of wine was poisonous. It was no longer wine, but a volatile concoction of butane and methanol. Fully combustible; and lethal when tasted. Oxidation. Lindsay shuddered; she could picture a quiet stream of bubbles, darting through the dull colored liquid, a force threatening to shatter glass.
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A/N: ethanol + O --> ethanoic acid. haha. chemistry. I'll leave you to ponder the meaning. The sleep deprived fool in me was searching for an escape from tasks that needed to be completed.