Danny hated hospitals. He hated them for the reasons most people hated them and that was because they were too clean, too stark, and smelled like death. He also had a personal reason for hating them and that was because he had spent too much time in them recently.

Between Flack and Louie he had been dropping by these disinfected tombs after way too many of his shifts, and now…Lindsay.

Danny removed his borrowed glasses and ran a hand over his tired eyes. They had brought her in about an hour ago and the Doctor was in with her now, stitching her up.

He looked down and saw that his hands were shaking slightly, and he put them in his jean pockets so no one else could see. He then took a quick look around to see if anyone else had noticed. Stella was talking to Mac so they hadn't been paying attention to him and Hawkes was reading an article out of some medical magazine.

He seemed to be the only one slowly losing his mind.

Danny paced to the other side of the room, crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned against the wall.

He told himself once again that she was fine. The doc had said so. The bullet had been a through and through that chipped her shoulder blade, but otherwise didn't cause any permanent damage.

Her ribs were bruised but at least that bastard hadn't managed to break them, and although her jaw looked like she had taken on Evander Holyfield and lost, at least it hadn't been broken.

The most dangerous thing that had happened was the blood loss. She had needed a transfusion by the time she got here and then there was the little fact that she was still unconscious.

Danny felt his urge to hit something grow, preferable Davis' face. He sighed.

He could still see the scene in his head so very clearly. They had heard the gun shot and immediately breached the small utility building.

When S.W.A.T. had swarmed in Davis' had tried to turn the gun on himself but the team had stopped him and disarmed him. Danny had spared the briefest of glances for him and his attention and immediately landed on the knife sticking out of his thigh.

He had instantly recognized it because not only had he seen it on numerous occasions but it was one of the first personal items he had teased her about owning.

It was the wicked looking pocket knife that Lindsay always carried on her and he had no illusions on how it had gotten buried in Davis' thigh.

She could have been killed. She hadn't been but she could have been and Danny realized that if she had been he might have been sorely tempted to eat his own gun, because he couldn't image his life with out her in it.

Danny felt his palms itch and he rubbed them together. He needed to see her, needed to hold her and make damn sure that she really was alright.

He as about five seconds away from charging through the hospital like a mad bull, looking for her, when the doc who had been stitching her up came into the room.

Mac and Stella were instantly on their feet and Hawkes put down his magazine and focused his attention on the physician.

The doctor smiled at them. "I'm happy to report that Miss Monroe is going to be just fine. The wound was easy to close and she woke up during the procedure. You can all see her if you would like and she is ready to go home."

The CSIs breathed a collective sigh and followed the Doctor back into the hubbub of the Emergency room. Danny stayed rooted to his spot for a few minutes, strong feelings of insecurity assailing him.

They had been fighting when Davis had nabbed her and he really wasn't all that sure that she would want to see him.

Finally he willed his feet to move and followed the voices of his colleagues to her bedside. He stood back beyond the curtains a little, in a position where she could see him but she had yet to glance in his direction.

She was smiling and even laughed at something Stella had said. Mac was admonishing her for sticking Davis with that knife and at the same time telling her it was a bold move. Hawkes was checking over her injuries and looking through her chart.

Danny was just content to watch her. She was alive, and even banged up she was beautiful, and he couldn't imagine her any other way.

He knew, as sure as he breathed, that Davis would have been a dead man if they had found her corpse instead of this living, breathing woman that he loved.

As if she could feel the weight of his thoughts she looked beyond Stella and saw him standing there. She paused mid-sentence and time seemed to slow down to a crawl as she gazed at him with unreadable eyes.

"Guys, why don't we give them a minute?" Stella said. Mac looked back and forth between his two CSIs and grudgingly nodded. Hawkes had a weird sort of grin twisting his lips but he was also willing to leave them alone.

They filed out passed Danny and Stella squeezed his arm reassuringly, like she had done a few days ago in the break room after the first time Davis had attacked Lindsay.

It felt like a lifetime ago.

When the rest of the team was gone Danny cautiously made his way behind the curtain and pulled up a stool so he could sit next to her. He didn't touch her even though every fiber of his being was screaming at him to.

"Hey," he said softly. She smiled wanly at him.

"Hey," she replied. Danny met her whiskey eyes head on, not willing to flinch and she did the same. Finally unable to take it any longer he reached out and for her hand, being careful of the I.V. and entwined their fingers. Relief flooded her eyes and her smile turned warm.

"Jesus Linds, you scared me. Don't ever scare me like that again," he said. She squeezed his hand.

"He didn't hurt me; well he didn't hurt me as badly as he could have."

Anger flashed in Danny's eyes but he banked it down. Now was not the time.

"I saw the knife. What were you thinkin' Montana? He could have killed you. I couldn't…"

Lindsay didn't take offense; instead she started rubbing small circles over his palm with her thumb. Danny felt her gently touch course through him and he shivered.

"He didn't kill me Danny. I'm here. It's okay."

Danny pulled away from her and stood up to pace. He ran his hand through his hair, agitated.

"Shit, it's not okay. I'm gettin' really sick and tired of seein' people I love get hurt and wind up…"

Danny froze and a minute later he hung his head. He realized what he had just inadvertently said and cursed himself as all kinds of an idiot. He hadn't intended to tell her like this because truthfully, he wasn't all the sure what her reaction would be.

Slowly Danny lifted his head and met her eyes. She looked as shocked as he felt. She recovered pretty quickly and started picking fuzz off her covers. She wasn't looking at him.

"So, it wasn't just great sex," she threw out offhandedly. Danny stared at her a little confused until he saw the upturned tilt of her sensuous lips. She was smirking, the little minx.

Danny let the first real smile in hours twitch his lips up and he went over to sit down next to her.

"Great sex, Montana?"

She started laughing and then stopped grasping her ribs.

"Don't make me laugh Messer, it hurts," she protested, but she was still smiling.

They were quiet for a moment. Lindsay looked at him a little shy.

"So…you never answered my question? It wasn't just sex?"

Danny leaned in and kissed her gently before replying.

"Aw hell, Montana. You know what you do ta me. You make me crazy. Of course I'm in love with ya. Did you really think I stood a chance of not fallin' for ya?"

She smirked at him. "A slim chance, a very, very slim chance, Messer."

She picked at her covers some more and grew serious.

"I love you too, Danny."

He felt his heart swell at those simple words falling from her lips and he kissed her again, this time a little more instantly and she moaned. He pulled back and gently brushed her hair off her forehead.

"So Monroe, what's this mean for us?" Lindsay smiled.

"Well I figure that when I'm feeling better we need to have a lot more of that great sex I was telling you about."

He smirked and almost said something but she wasn't done. She stilled his response by placing her index finger over his lips. "The rest I think we can figure out as we go."

Danny responded by pulling her finger into his mouth and sucking lightly. Lindsay drew in a ragged breath.

"No fair. Don't go starting things we can't finish Danny," she moaned. He smiled, shrugged and released her.

"I'm definitely up for the more of the great sex part and as for the rest of it? Well, if you're up to it do ya want to come to a Yankee's game with me, Montana?"

Lindsay smirked and cocked and eyebrow in his direction.

"You asking me on a date, Messer?" He nodded.

"On one condition." She quirked her eyebrow higher. "You gotta promise me that you won't be stabbin' any more deranged killers with the pocket cutlery ya like ta carry. I don't think my heart can take it."

Lindsay reeled him in for another kiss.

"I'm not making any promises, Cowboy, but I'll try."

He smiled against her lips and kissed her again. He couldn't get enough of those lips, probably never would.

"We are gonna try. That's all I can ask. It's all I need."