Chapter 3 – Aftermath

Danny wasted no time in hailing a cab.

"Danny, why are you getting us a cab?" Lindsay asked, obviously confused by his actions.

"I drove here this morning, and I assumed that Flack would be able to drive us back, but I've had too much to drink, and I'm far too infuriated to put you in a car with me right now. So instead, we'll take a cab home." Lindsay was a bit dismayed that Danny's response seemed so short, but then again, she could practically see the smoke billowing out of his ears.

They shared the cab ride to Lindsay's apartment in silence. A few times she looked over at Danny, but he stared intently out the window the entire time. When they arrived, Lindsay was surprised to see Danny getting out of the cab, too.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm coming up with you," he said, handing some money to the driver. "I want to make sure you're alright, then I'll just take another cab back to my place." Lindsay began to open her mouth to say she was fine, but Danny cut her off. "Please, Monroe, don't argue with me about this. It's my fault you got hit – I moved, and exposed you, so just let me feel a bit better about it by taking a look." And with that, he turned around and began walking to the front doors.

Lindsay just sighed. Normally, she would have protested more – the one side of her face was already swelling, but she didn't want to argue with Danny, not with him in this mood anyway. He was pissed enough; she thought it best not to add fuel to the fire.

She led him up to her apartment. It was on the 6th and top floor of the building, with no elevator. She had had a hell of a time trying to move in – the movers were definitely disgruntled at having to carry all her furniture up the very narrow (and poorly ventilated) staircase.

Danny, though, was at least relieved to get the mini-workout. It gave him chance to calm down a bit. He had never been to Lindsay's apartment before, though he was not surprised when he saw her front door. Under the brass number '20' was the word 'WELCOME', hand-painted on a quaint birdhouse. He laughed inwardly. Typical country girl.

Once she opened her door, though, he didn't waste more than a second taking in his surroundings. He took her hand and led her directly to the kitchen, where he started rummaging for ice and a clean cloth. Ice was easy enough to find – the freezer's location was rather self-explanatory – but he didn't want to use a dirty cloth to wrap the ice in.

"Where do you keep clean cloths?" he asked.

Lindsay turned around and opened a small door in the wall just outside the kitchen, and returned with two white facecloths.

"I figure you'll need one for yourself too," she said, handing them over.

Danny didn't say anything. The swelling on the left side of her face was already evident. He turned her head under the light to get a better look. Swollen, but would probably go within a few days. It would have been a lot worse if that man had gotten a clean shot at her. Using his left hand to steady her head, he slowly placed the ice against her jaw.

"How's that?" he asked.

She looked at him; her breath caught in her throat, as she read the concern written all across his expression. She was suddenly very aware how close he was standing to her… and the fact that he basically had one hand on either side of her face. She gave him a small smile and forced herself to tear her eyes away from his. "S'fine," she managed to get out, through the now-limited mobility of her mouth. "You should take care of your lip…"

"Right… right…" he said, stepping back. "Where's your bathroom?"

She pointed down the hall. "Last door on the right."

"Thanks." He picked up the spare facecloth that she brought out earlier, then made his way to the bathroom. Lindsay's gaze followed him the whole way. What are you doing, Lindsay? she asked herself. It didn't make sense. She couldn't make heads or tails of it… and that scared her.

She sighed, and walked over to her couch, plopping onto it. She could hear the water being turned off and on in the bathroom. Soon afterwards, Danny came out, holding his makeshift ice pack against his lip. He sat down beside her.

"I'm going to beat Flack tomorrow," he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He looked over at her, grinning, though she could only see one side of his mouth.

"Why only Flack?" she asked. "Mac and Hawkes are equally as guilty…" She flipped through the channels of her television. Nothing good was ever on at midnight.

"Well, Mac's my boss. Somehow, I don't see telling him off for doing his job will go too well. And Hawkes… he's just too…" Lindsay was looking at him, expectantly. "…nice. Hitting him would be like hitting a kid. Flack can at least hold his own."

They sat in silence for awhile, watching what was on the television, but neither paying particular attention. Every so often, one would sneak a glance at the other, hoping but hoping not to get caught. This must be a pretty funny sight to an outsider, Lindsay thought to herself. Two of us sitting here, complete silence, black and blue faces. Awesome. She smiled inwardly, and looked over at Danny. This time, though, he caught her. She expected an awkward smile from him, but received a totally different reaction instead.

"I'm sorry, Montana," Danny said slowly.

Lindsay just looked at him, surprised. He bore an expression she hadn't seen before on him, and she had trouble placing it. He looked distraught and confused, as though he was having his own personal mental battle. As she would soon find out, he was.

He looked away briefly, then looked back, a solemn expression on his face. He took a deep breath, looking back absent-mindedly at the television. "When the guy started to get rough, I didn't make sure you were out of the way – I didn't check to make sure you weren't in his line of fire. Instead, I just ducked in an effort to save myself, and ended up exposing you. I should have made sure that I knew where you were, and in that case, I shouldn't've let him get you." He looked down into his lap, then over at Lindsay. "And now look what's happened, you've got a wicked bruise on that jaw – he could have broken it. I've seen busted jaws before – Louie's, not mine – it's not pretty. His jaw had to be wired in place for six weeks while the bone repaired itself. It was pretty bad." He sighed, then sat back into the couch, looking up at the ceiling. "I just should have—"

"Danny, stop it," Lindsay said, cutting him off. "In no way do I blame you for what happened, and I'm not even that hurt; I was far enough away that he didn't get a clean hit. I moved behind you – you didn't realize it – I should have put my hand on your back or something to let you know I was there, and no longer beside you. Besides, what good would it have done? For you to instead take a harder hit? He would have done far more damage on you, had you not moved. Plus, if you think about it, then that punch you did take would have been in the same place as the first – could you imagine what shape your lip would be in then? I'd probably be dislodging your teeth from your throat." Lindsay smiled, hoping to make him feel less guilty. She didn't blame him for her getting hurt, not even for a second. Besides, she was a big girl – she didn't need him to protect her, though she was flattered by his apparent desire to do so.

"I know," he said slowly, still looking at the ceiling, "but still…"

"No," Lindsay said firmly. "Don't even do that. We're both fine, and we both know that sometimes, shit happens. Hell, our job does a pretty good job at teaching us that lesson, so of all people, we understand that. Sure, it could have been much worse – at least you didn't end up starting a brawl in there! That many intoxicated people… yeesh, that would have been ugly!"

Danny cracked a bit of a smile, but didn't say anything. Lindsay shimmied a bit closer to him, and placed her hand on his arm. "Danny, it's fine. I'm fine. You're fine. It's all good. Now, if you don't snap out of this mood, I'm going to slug you. And trust me, country girls know how to punch."

Danny just laughed, looking at her. "I don't doubt that – though another time I may have to test it out."

Lindsay smiled – at least she got through to him. She understood his guilt, though it wasn't his fault. Sometimes, though, you just blame yourself for things that were out of your control. She settled back into the couch, only half-watching the comedian on the television in front of her.

Lindsay stirred, and slowly opened her eyes. Everything around her was bleary – where was she? Her surroundings were familiar, yet unfamiliar at the same time. She blinked a few times, trying to focus, but her eyes weren't cooperating. In front of her, she could see something bright, with shapes moving around… and talking. The television. She started to sit up, but was met with resistance. She had been sleeping with her arms crossed in front of her chest, like she did every night, but when she looked down, she found another set of arms there too. Putting the night together in her head, she realized she and Danny must have fallen asleep watching TV. She smiled to herself – she had imagined being in his arms, but she never imagined it could have felt as good as this. She could have woken him up, or slipped out of his embrace and moved to her own bedroom. Instead, she chose bliss – she snuggled into him, grinning. She closed her eyes, feeling his arms tighten around her.

Danny awoke to his neck stiffening. He looked down – Lindsay was sleeping. She had begun to doze off while they were watching television – he noticed her head bobbing as she fought exhaustion. He had gently lowered her until she was lying down, her head on the pillow atop his lap. He later fell asleep sitting up, with his neck hanging over the back of the couch at a most unpleasant angle. He looked around – he would make too much noise if he attempted to find his belongings in the darkness, and if he left now, he'd end up leaving her apartment door unlocked. Instead, he decided to just stay in her apartment for the night… but where? It wouldn't make any sense to sleep in Lindsay's bed, and she didn't have a guest room – he had noticed that earlier when he went to her bathroom. But could he stay here on the couch with her? Was that any more appropriate? After a brief mental battle, he decided the couch was the least of three evils. Slowly, he shifted the pillow Lindsay lay on, lifting it just enough to pull his feet up and extend himself over the length of her couch, between her body and the couch's back. As he lowered the pillow down, he put his other arm over her top as to not roll her off the couch (how awkward would that have been to explain!). He lay there for a moment, the scent of her hair clouding his brain. He closed his eyes, but re-opened them when he felt her stir. He stayed perfectly still, leaving his arms around her, hoping that his shifting hadn't woken her up. After a moment, he felt her body relax… and then move in, closer to his. He smiled, softly pulling her body to his. He fell asleep, his head resting against hers.

AN: Hope you enjoyed – more on the way. Reviews are appreciated (remember it's my first!)