"Is there something on my face?"

"What?"

"I said is there something on my face? Cuz' you've been staring at me ever since I got back from lunch."

Danny quickly turned around so that he was facing away from Lindsay as he realized that that was exactly what he had been doing. "No, there's nothing wrong with your face. I- I mean . . . never mind. I'm just zoning out. Didn't sleep well last night."

"Oh? Why not?" she questioned him as she moved over to the microscope

Cuz' you were out with Flack doing who knows what . . .

"My, uh, heater broke. Too damn freezing at home."

She shot him a grin. "Really? Would of thought that you would have someone there to help keep you warm."

"Haha, Lindsay. Real funny."

"Okay," she shrugged and focused on the trace evidence she was working on. Danny sighed quietly and tried to do the same but could not keep his mind from wandering.

As his hands went through the motions of the procedure (he could do this in his sleep if he needed to), he grudgingly allowed his mind to show him things he didn't want to see.

Earlier that morning . . .

"Mornin' Danny," Flack said cheerfully as he walked into the DNA lab.

"Hey," he replied, barely even turning his head from the results he was looking at. One of the techs glanced at the detective and handed him a file similar to the one Danny was holding.

Flack thanked her and watched her walk away with a smile. "I don't know how you do it, Danny."

"What? Be better than you in every single way? Just natural talent, man."

He laughed. "How do you work in this lab with all these cuties and not try to get some?"

Danny froze mid-sentence and shot Flack a confused look. "Okay, one – I don't consider the people I work with to be 'cuties'. And-"

"You don't think Stella's attractive?" he cut in.

"Of course I do. But she freakin' scares me, man."

"And Lindsay?"

"She's . . . well, she's . . . new. I don't really know about her yet."

"Oh, gimme a break. She's not that new. And obviously you didn't see her in those jeans she wore a couple of weeks ago."

"What are you talking about? I saw those jeans, I think, but my mind was on the case. My job isn't to pay attention to what my co-workers are wearing." He paused, looked around, and moved closer to his friend. "And I thought you went out with her last night."

Flack's grin grew wider. "Yep. And let me tell you – that woman knows what she's doing."

Danny's eyes grew wide. "You slept with her?" An unfamiliar surge of protectiveness rushed through him as he tried to figure out just why that bothered him so much, and why it bothered him that it bothered him (oh god, he was even confusing himself now).

"I can assure you, buddy, that there was no sleeping involved. See ya, Messer." And with that blunt sentiment, he was gone, leaving Danny alone with his conflicting thoughts.

He really didn't want to think about it. It wasn't right for him to be thinking about how good Lindsay wa- or why she- or how Flack got her to-

Damnit.

He didn't think that she was even like that. Guess there was more for him to learn about her. Not that he had a chance now.

Wait! What the hell was he thinking?

This was not happening . . .

Lindsay was confused.

Ever since she had left to go to lunch with Flack, Danny had been ignoring her.

No, not ignoring her. Because throughout the afternoon she had caught him staring at her with an expression on his face that she couldn't quite place. It was driving her nuts trying to figure it out, and trying to understand just what she had done.

She sighed and threw down her pen with a grunt of frustration. She looked at the clock and groaned. It was late. Way too late, in her opinion, to be going over the same reports she had that morning. She was going to go home and sleep, she decided.

As she walked into the locker room, she could see someone sitting on the bench banging their head slightly against the locker in front of them. She got closer and realized with a smirk that the person trying to bash their own brains out was none other than Danny Messer.

"You're going to leave a mark if you keep doing that, and I'd hate to have to ruin something so pretty."

"Nice to know that you think I'm pretty, Montana."

"I was talking about the locker."

He grumbled something unintelligible without lifting his head up as Lindsay sat on the bench next to him, genuine concern etched across her face. She put her hand on his shoulder and was about to say something when he jumped up and away from her.

"What the hell, Danny?"

He furiously shook his head. "I don't know, I just . . . just-"

"Just what? You've been avoiding me all day, yet staring at me when you thought I wasn't looking, and now you act like me touching you will burn you or something." He opened his mouth as if to protest, but she cut him off, standing up and stepping closer to him. "You're going to tell me what's going on. Right now."

Danny took a deep breath. This wasn't going to be easy.

TBC

A/N: Yes, I know, it's not the greatest, and I did make Flack out to be kind of an ass, but I had to for the sake of the story. Don't worry, I still love you Donny dear. (I'm such a dork . . . :) )