Disclaimer: I am not the mega-millionaire owner of these characters, unfortunately.

Author's Note: Kind of a bridge chapter. A bit of fluff, if you will.

CHAPTER 16

Sheldon Hawkes

Danny practically skips up the stairs Monday morning. I'm glad he didn't do it literally because I would have lost all sorts of respect for him. Stella meets him halfway up, and I hear their conversation.

"You're happy," Stella says. "Does this mean you've finally managed to do something right with our Montana native?"

I can't help grinning when I see him pick her up and spin her around. "She's givin' me a chance, Stel. She still loves me, can you believe that?"

"Danny, put me down, I'm not 16," Stella grumbles good-naturedly. She looks delighted and a bit surprised. I of course already knew of the latest developments – Lindsay and I talked the evening after the party after she spent a day with Danny walking through the park, eating vinegar fries and enjoying the sunshine.

"We're taking it one step at a time – Danny says he wants to move slowly, too – do things right." Lindsay said. I could feel her glow through the phone, and I see it in Danny today.

Stella goes off on her first case and Danny continues up the stairs. He stops again when he sees me. Walking over, a serious expression on his face, he offers his hand. "I owe you a lot, Hawkes. Thanks."

"You owe Lindsay," I grumble, but I shake his hand. Despite his past antics, I can't hate the guy. "Seriously, Danny, I'm happy for you."

"… But don't fuck it up this time?" He thinks I'm worried about Lindsay. He's right.

"I would like to think you wouldn't be that stupid." I laugh, and he laughs with me. I reach over and clap him on the back, then pull him close, my mouth to his ear.

"Just so you know? Hurt her again and I'll make our last physical encounter feel like child's play." I growl. Pulling back, I look meaningfully into his eyes, then walk away. I'm almost to the doors when I hear his quiet response.

"Noted, Doc. Noted."

Danny Messer

Can't blame the guy. He does care about Montana – I wonder if I'll ever be really okay with that? Aw hell, he's getting married and there's no mistaking the goo-goo eyes he has for Nicole.

Well, good ole Hawkes has nothin' to worry about. I'm not gonna hurt her again. Yesterday – it was incredible. Walkin' though the park, holdin' her hand, seein' the jealous why-can't-I-have-that looks. Sorry guys, she's with me. We talked, really talked, and this movin' slow thing may have its advantages – I feel like I'm gettin' to know her all over again. Of course, it couldn't have ended more perfect. That kiss -

"So … Montana. Could we do this again?" I leaned against the wall outside Apartment 4C.

"Mmm … I could be persuaded." That teasing purr was all I needed and I kissed her gently, tasting salt and vinegar mingled with the sweetness of her lips. My insides began to simmer with the memories of the past and the promise of the future. Before things got outta control, I pulled away. There would be other nights.

I held her closely, "See you soon, young lady."

She smiled that delicious smile of hers. "Oh, you can bet on that, Det. Messer.."

"Something tells me you have more than a current case on your mind, Messer." Don Flack is leaning against the wall outside the locker room.

"Flack, you have a dirty mind," I say, grinning, slapping his shoulder. He follows me in the locker room.

"A smile like that, and I'm thinkin' you and Ms. Monroe did some serious makin' up."

"Not like you think, Flack. We're takin' it slow. No more slip ups."

"No more thongs?"

I experience a minor flash of annoyance – I wish he'd let that go – then move on with a smile. "Not unless they're Montana's."

Lindsay Monroe

I'm exhausted, but happy. After Danny left the other night my sleep has been interrupted by thoughts of him. Know one will ever know what strength it took to keep from pulling that man into my apartment and having my way with him.

But that time would come, and it needed to be done right. After everything we've been through, we don't need to muddy the waters by moving too fast – our relationship was always more than physical.

"Det. Monroe." Mac Taylor nods at me. I smile brilliantly in return, and he chuckles.

"Good weekend? When I saw Danny earlier, it looked like he'd had a good weekend, too. Any connection?"

I smile. "Follow the evidence, Det. Taylor, follow the evidence."

With that I spin around, heading toward the lab with what my sister Beth would call a "shit-eating grin."

TBC