Title: Darkness
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.
Summary: After a bad case, Lindsay is feeling bad. Danny comforts her in a way. Just a small snippet from their life.
A/N: I really want to make this into a chapter fic, but with exams and, you know, life, in the way I don't know. As of right now it's a one shot and should the inspiration come about, which it probably will cause I really want to write a chapter fic, this will be expanded.
This has not been beta'd, cough ahem cough so any and all mistakes are mine. Please don't take them.
She knew that she was dreaming. Her dream world colors were dull and the sounds around her were muffled. But she couldn't awaken. She was stuck in this nightmare being chased by demons from her past and she couldn't escape.
She awoke suddenly and silently; quickly, but quietly. Her nightmare was chased away by the rays of the sun peeking through her curtains and the weight of a strong arm across her belly. Her breathing was rapid and she hastened to slow it, lest she waken her sleeping fiancé. The last remaining memories of the nightmare and the reasons for it finally faded into the back of her mind to be remembered at another time, another night.
She slowly lifted the heavy weight of his arm off of her stomach and silently rolled out of his bed. She found the shirt that he had worn that day, the one that she had slowly unbutton just hours before, and shrugged it on to her shoulders, buttoning only a few of the buttons.
He knew she was awake. He had felt her shudders as she ran from the demons in her mind. He had tightened his grip on her as she startled herself awake. He pretended to be asleep as he felt her slow her breathing and slide out of bed. He remained in bed; eyes cracked to watch her slowly slip his button down shirt over her shoulders. She walked out his bedroom and he heard her wander around his kitchen. His head fell back as he thought back on the last few months with her.
He knew everything about her. She had finally told him the secrets that she had hidden so well, the reasons for her move to New York.
He knew every smile, his favorite being the half one she put on when she forgave him for stupid things that he had done.
He knew what every tear tasted like, because he had kissed away every one.
He knew every smile, laugh, frown, tear that she had because they were all different and unique. He knew that when she was in a good mood, he had a very good chance of getting her to imitate Yogi Bear. He knew that she could sound exactly like the talking bear when she said "Smarter than the average bear eh Boo Boo." It was one of his favorite things about her.
He also knew that if she was in a bad mood, then if was probably directed at him and he needed to steer clear of her for a few hours. A mad Lindsay was not a good Lindsay.
Her head was pounding and the noise of the city streets wasn't helping any. She thought she'd be use to the noise by now, but living in the country her whole life had made that nigh on impossible.
The last few months had been easier. She'd slept sounder than she had when she had first moved to New York. She figured that was because she was falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat and his soft, slow breathing.
Her mind drifted over the last few months, starting at the point when he had asked her out. Not the first time during the case with the dolls. No, the one that she had agreed to, the time that she refers to as the start of their tremulous relationship. Her thoughts wandered from that day, flittered across the days in between then and now and finally rested on the events of earlier that day.
The case had been hectic and heartbreaking. A small child had lost her mother and a husband had lost a lover, all over a few hundred dollars. She and Stella had been the one to tell the husband that his wife was dead and that they had no evidence as to who had killed her. She had had to turn away when the husband collapsed into heart wrenching sobs.
She had gone home after that, to her apartment, not his, and cried. Sobs that echoed those of the husband, all because she had felt what he felt. His pain was hers and the strain of that was too much. Danny had found her a few hours later, alone in her darkened apartment, curled in the corner of her living room, silent tears streaming down her face. He had taken her back to his apartment and started a hot bath for her. A few glasses of wine later, they had fallen into bed together, moving as one, him holding her as more tears fell from her eyes.
Her thoughts came back to the present as light from the refrigerator splashed across her body. She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and some aspirin from the cupboard. Downing the small pills, she settled into a chair at his dining room table, thinking of him and her and the case. Her headache had crept its way down to her neck and she rubbed a hand over it. The apartment was silent and dark and she wondered if she should turn a light on. The choice was taken out of her hands when the dining room light was flipped on, startling her and making her eyes close against the sudden harshness of the white light.
When he felt that she had had enough time to herself he pushed himself off his bed and grabbed a pair of pajama pants. He walked softly, his feet cold on his tile floor. He found her in his dining room rubbing her neck. He flicked the light on, startling her out of her reverie.
He watched as her eyes snapped shut to block out the sudden brightness. He noticed the slight pallor to her skin and the dark blue circles under her eyes. He was concerned about her and was determined to show her that he was here.
When she finally opened her eyes, she found him lounging against the door frame, dressed in only a pair of low hanging pajama pants and a smile. She half glared at him and then gave him a slow, lazy smile.
"What're ya doin' up?" he asked, his accent coming out thicker in his sleep fuzzed mind. "We don't hafta be up for anther coupla hours." He looked at her with half lidded eyes, and grinned wolfishly. "You know there're better things to do than sit out here in the dark."
Her eyes flicked over his well toned body and she had to force her own to calm down when he stretched his arms over his head and elongated his torso. She brought a hand up to rub her neck again and brought her glance to her water bottle. She felt him come up behind her and slowly start to massage away the ache in her muscles. "Bad dream Linds?" he whispered.
"Yeah. Same one. And my head was hurting," she said softly. She didn't look at him as she spoke, her eyes closing as he rubbed her aches away. "I think it's just the case. I feel bad for that man Danny. We couldn't do anything for him and his wife's case folder is just going to sit on Mac's desk for God knows how long."
Danny moved so he sat in front of her, his hands on her thighs. "Listen to me Lindsay. You did everything you possibly could. You gathered the evidence, you processed it, and you did your job. That's all you can do. You can't beat yourself up over it. Come back to bed. I'll give ya the best massage you've ever had in your entire life. You'll be sleepin' in minutes."
She chuckled softly, just to have something to do and shot a soft glance in his direction. He clasped her hands in his and hauled her up out of the chair. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt that she was wearing and slid it off her shoulders. He led her to his bed and laid her facedown, easing himself next to her. His hands started at her shoulders and worked their way to her neck. Slowly, they moved down, easing her pain away. Within moments, Lindsay was asleep, her nightmares and memories chased away by the feel of his strong fingers on her soft skin.