Catching Delilah
…
The dust has cleared, and through the chaos, she was all he saw.
…
DL, post 3x02… MAJOR spoilers.
…
The fog and dust in the room had started to settle, and Danny tightened his grip on her slight frame, part of him worrying that in the clearing air she'd pull quickly out of his grasp, like it never happened, afraid someone would see. His insecurities were put to rest, however, when she buried her features in his shoulder, her grip on his arm becoming rigid, steadfast. The apartment was a general disarray of chaos, Flack slammed the Ghedi into the floor, Stella on his heels; a few uniforms in bulletproof vests and a paramedic ran to crouch beside Dana, checking her injuries. SWAT guys were swarming everywhere.
But in the yelling and disorder of the apartment, Lindsay only heard Danny's soft whisper, hoarse with tears that men from Staten Island didn't let fall. He held her firmly, the prickle of his unshaven jaw scraping against her cheek.
"It's okay, you're okay. I got you." She felt him press a kiss to her forehead and lean down to catch her eye, his breath warm against her skin. "You did good, Lindsay." He rubbed her shoulders soothingly, waiting for her breathing to slow. "I got you, okay?" He felt her nod briefly against his chest, pulling her grip from his shoulder to his chest, laying her palm against his vest. He threaded a hand through her wavy curls, holding her against him as she regained her composure. He slipped a hand around her waist, anticipating her losing her footing, but she held her own, turning into him to speak, whispering against the crook of his neck.
"You were right." Her eyes glistened with fresh tears, and she pulled away to rest her forehead against his, sniffling and blinking them down her cheeks.
"Of course I was right. I've never been more right about anything." His words scolded her, but his tone was soft, soothing. He cradled her head in his hands, sweeping over her features with an investigator's eye, searching for overt signs of injury, trauma. She caught his gaze and held it, breaking his heart. "You hit your head?"
"No, I'm okay." Her voice was small, uneven, and he didn't dare let up his grip. He nodded, agreeing with her, finding no outward signs of injury in her delicate features.
"C'mon, let's get you checked out." He ignored the movement in the room, clearing a path, tangling his fingers determinedly into hers, pulling her past their coworkers and the SWAT guys and Mosi Ghedi and a hysterical Dana; already going into shock. She didn't argue, for once in her career, squeezing his fingers tightly and letting him pull her from the wreckage of the tiny apartment. They made their way wordlessly past the few uniforms scattered in the hall, but they were too preoccupied, running into the chaos, searching for their piece of the action. Danny frowned, wanting nothing more than to get her out of there. Silently, he thanked Stella for giving him the task of taking care of Lindsay. He would have gone fidgety and unfocused, worried about her otherwise. Not that she couldn't take care of herself. She was tough, that she had proved.
This building, this case, this task, he saw, as he glanced back at her, had tainted her, but then again, it might've been the city, and he hadn't seen her harden, change in the sterile light of the lab, after all this time. As the main entrance of the apartment building came into view, so did the soft yellowing light of the setting sun, broken by the skyline, piercing through like blades of grass. He slowed, pausing a moment so she could walk beside him as the hallway spilled into the wider entranceway. She came to a stop, biting her lip and casting a glance back down the hallway they had come through.
"We got it under control, it's okay." He caught sight of her lip trembling, and turned to face her completely, slipping a sturdy hand into her wavy curls, disheveled from throwing Dana on the ground, and the explosion of the grenade. She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch, and he took a step closer, afraid she would fall.
He would always catch her when she fell.
"I was stupid." Her voice was a whisper, unsteady and scared, and it shattered his heart all over again. He smiled, pulling her into another hug.
"Yeah. Incredibly stupid. Incredibly brave, but definitely incredibly stupid." He relaxed, watching an amused smile flash across her features briefly. "You done good, Linds." He leaned in, pressing an affectionate kiss to her cheek before whispering in her ear again. "I'm proud of you." She choked out a short laugh, resting her forehead against his for the second time that afternoon, holding tightly to his fingers with one hand, reaching out to feel the straps of his bulletproof vest with her other. He dropped his free hand to her waist, trying to give her a reassuring smile. When he caught her gaze, he was surprised to find tears welling, threatening to spill down her cheeks.
"You scared me."
"Me? How? I was safe in the truck." He shot her a quizzical look, and she rolled her eyes, brushing away her tears briskly.
"You called me by my name." She let out a breath slowly, shaking her head at his amused expression. "Ghedi still had the gun. If he were to shoot by instinct, he'd have shot at the first voice he heard. You. And your big city loud mouth-"
Danny bent, capturing her lips with his own, effectively cutting her off, keeping light pressure, and pulling away quickly, scanning her features for a reaction. Lindsay's breath hitched softly in her throat, and her eyes widened. He offered her a crooked smile, reaching up to brush away tears that were quickly drying, holding his fingers to her face for a lingering moment. Slowly, the corner of her mouth curled into a trace of a smile, and she turned her attention to his fingers, still holding tightly to hers. She ran her hand from the thin padding of the bulletproof vest to the stubble on his jaw, catching his eye and holding his gaze steadily, before glancing at his lips, and pulling him down, crashing her lips against his, leaning into him as he tightened his grip around her waist, parting her lips ever so slightly, granting him access, sighing as he took it, tasting coffee and tic tacs and the salt of tears and concern and love.
Love.
It was the love she could taste the most, hidden for so long, finally brimming to the surface, glittering in the fluorescent light reflected in his thin frames, for all the world to see. She pulled away, licking her bottom lip subconsciously, tasting his kisses still, untangling their fingers and feeling where his goatee had scratched her skin numb, only just, before giving him a broken hearted smile.
Timing wasn't normally one of Danny Messer's best qualities, and kissing her down the hall from a SWAT invasion probably wasn't the most rational act he had made that day. They would laugh about this someday, when they were arguing over who kissed who first. She was glad he used up his prudence on busting out of the van and into the apartment. He chuckled, watching her think through what had just transpired between them, out here in the hallway, the dust barely settled around her partially successful undercover work.
This woman was to be his downfall.
She had him already, and she hadn't spoken a word.
Danny wrapped an arm companionably around her shoulders, inviting her to lean against him, and she slipped her arm around the small of his back, letting him pull her flush with his side, helping her out of the entranceway and leading her gently to the paramedic waiting at the ambulance that had pulled up a few minutes ago. He let go of her, leaving her in the care of the medic while he asked one of the cadets that had just arrived at the scene for hunt down a cup of coffee and sent him on his way.
Danny shoved his hands in his pockets, waiting restlessly as the paramedic checked her over, paying careful attention to her ears because of the blast. Lindsay sat limply, watching him turn her hands over in his, inspecting the scrapes and checking for bleeding. She looked up, beyond the paramedic, to Danny, removing his bulletproof vest, then pacing tiredly a few yards away, then talking to a cadet, nodding as the kid handed him a paper cup. She smirked, not letting her gaze falter as he bit the nail on his thumb in nervous practice, glancing up at the second floor before turning and scanning the back of the ambulance for her, finding her eye and holding it.
A few minutes behind them, the paramedic that had gone in to attend to Dana appeared in the doorway of the building, helping the blonde make her way carefully down the stairs. Cleared of having any debilitating injuries, the paramedic beside her turned his attention to the younger woman, freeing Lindsay to make her way to Danny's side again. He smiled, taking a sip from the paper cup and then offering the rest to her.
"Settle your nerves."
"Has it got whiskey? Thank you." She matched his smile with a smirk, accepting the cup of steaming black coffee from him and taking a long sip. "Abusing the cadets, Detective?" His smile widened to an amused grin and he shrugged.
"No more than what the detectives used to do to me." He tilted his head, cocking an eyebrow at her before rubbing a hand along his jaw and surveying the movement around them.
He'd already jumped off the bridge; he might as well make a splash.
"If Flack an' Stella don't need us, we should get outta here."
"Okay." The smile in her soft voice squeezed his heart, and he reached out to her. She closed the gap between them and leaned against him in an easy embrace, and for the first time, their bodies coming in contact without the rigid padding of the vests. The SWAT guys had taken control, their job at this particular scene was either over, or had yet to begin.
The slight curve of her chest against his ribs sending a heated pressure through his body, swirling around his heart in what he could only assume was contentment, causing him to shiver. She handed him the cup, making him chuckle. He took a sip of cooling black coffee, handing the cup back to her and curving the corner of his lip into a smile. She had assumed the cool breeze had gotten to him, when in fact; it was the warm of her body next to his.
After a few minutes Stella emerged from the front door, running down the stairs in a perfected manner, scanning the crowd and heading toward them as soon as she spotted them. Lindsay shifted her weight, her delicate features falling into a hardened detective expression, leaving a space of a few inches between them. He shoved his hands in his pockets, his feelings recovering quickly, and he started towards her, Lindsay at his side.
"What d'you want us to do?"
"Are you okay?" The older woman ignored Lindsay's inquiry, narrowing her eyes to look for injuries.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. A little shook up." Danny fought a smile as he heard the tough, bold tone that a minute before was unsteady and quiet, nodding in agreement as Stella turned to him for second opinion.
"Where should we start?" Lindsay asked again, and Stella pushed a curl behind her ear, shaking her head.
"We just have to bring them down for questioning. And lock up. There's nothing to process up there. Meet us at PD?" Danny nodded, his hand already on the small of Lindsay's back.
"Yeah."
"You did a good job, Lindsay." Stella threw her a kind smile, before turning and following Flack, who was ordering the SWAT guys around, watching them load Ghedi into the back of a cruiser. Danny followed her as she turned and made her way to the Forensics truck letting out a heavy breath as she climbed into the passenger seat.
Wrap the case first, Messer. They had their whole lives to figure out what any of that meant. But first, they needed to finish the case.
An hour later, Lindsay watched from the window side of the interrogation room Flack came down hard on their suspect, and Danny crossed his arms over his chest, shooting Mosi Ghedi a disbelieving look.
"Get his ass outta here. Lock him up, yeah." Flack waved a hand dismissively and the uniform at the door took Ghedi by the arm, reciting the Miranda Laws in a dull tone. Danny bit his thumbnail, watching with a hand on his hip, as Ghedi was lead to Lock Up. Between the two of them, there was an ample supply of New Yorker to pressure just about anyone into confession and conviction. When Flack and Danny teamed up in the interrogation room, sometimes they scared even her, and she was on their side. She ran a hand through her hair, watching the muscles in his torso dance under his shirt as he twisted, leaning in to hear whatever Flack told him on his way, following Mosi Ghedi to Lock Up. She watched Danny smile, shaking his head at what Flack had said, pulling his glasses off his nose and rubbing a hand tiredly over his eyes, and along his jaw.
"He's all yours, Monroe." She jumped, startled by the sound of Flack's voice at the door. She turned, arching an eyebrow at him. Don Flack stood casually in the doorway, flashing her a genuine smile. "Just be gentle with him. He's not too good with a broken heart. Good work, today." With that, he was gone, leaving her alone.
Well, she wasn't completely alone. Danny was just on the other side of the glass. She smiled, taking another moment to watch him collect the case file, and place his glasses back across the bridge of his nose. She made her way to the door, slipping out into the hall. Maybe she just needed a shower.
"Hey, Montana." She turned at the sound of his voice, a few feet short of the locker room door.
"Hey." She slipped her hands into her back pockets, smiling softly as an expression of awkward flickered across his features.
"You okay to go home?" He came to a stop on the fringe of her personal space, knitting his brow in gentle concern, and she found herself wishing he was closer still.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. Really." She paused, feeling the awkward spread between them. Danny bit his lip, sifting a hand through his shortened hair out of habit. Oh God. "You were a little tough with Ghedi, don't you think? I mean; he's obviously guilty-"
"He put a gun in your face." Danny frowned, stating flatly; as if that constituted the harsh treatment he and Flack had dealt out in interrogation.
"Danny-"
"He put a gun in your face, Linds." Danny sighed, glancing down the hallway that lead to Lock Up. "He deserves a lot more than what he's got comin' to him." His gaze flickered to the locker room door before landing on her, and he threw her a Staten Island smile. "You want to get outta here, take a walk or something?" Lindsay returned his smile innocently, taking a step forward before brushing her lips lightly against his, and dropping her voice to a whisper against his shoulder, as he wrapped an arm around her.
"I was actually thinking of just going home." He laughed, his smile widening to a grin, and nodded.
"You want some company?" He closed his eyes, feeling her slip a hand around his neck, and he pulled her against him, hugging her tightly.
"That'd be nice, I think." Her words were warm, evocative in his ear, her chest against him again, his arm resting comfortably on the curve of the small of her back. He nodded, fighting off a wave of arousal as she pulled back, and arched an eyebrow gracefully at him, daring him to follow her down the hall.
A half hour later, Danny caught her lips with his own, groaning into her mouth as she fingered the hem of his shirt, pulling it from his waist. He kicked the door shut behind him, making her laugh, breaking their kiss long enough for her to be able to pull his shirt over his head, and drop it to the floor. The navy blue polo landed in a softly crumpled pile beside the door, and they left it, kicking off their shoes down the short hallway to Lindsay's bedroom.
Her fingers made short work of his belt, and he flipped the button of her pants open with a practiced flick of his wrist that he hoped she missed. His lips came crashing into hers, a hand through her hair as he deepened their kiss, taking access as she granted it, shuddering as she whimpered softly. Danny curled the fingers of his free hand around the hem of her tank top, carefully stripping her of the soft blue material, dropping it on the floor in the hall unceremoniously.
She paused, her fingers grazing over his badge, still attached to the hip of his jeans. He turned his kisses south, scratching a path of affection from her jaw to her collarbone, tickling her with his goatee. She unhooked his badge, placing it carefully on the bookshelf in the hall before working the zipper, and making his jeans fall off his hips with a heavy thud, thanks to the keys in his pocket.
He leaned his forehead against hers for a moment, grinning mischievously, slipping his fingers into the waistband of her pants, and pushing them over her hips, causing them to fall to the floor as well. She pulled him down to her, in a bruising kiss, letting him back her up against the foot of the bed. He slipped his white undershirt over his head before toppling her over onto her back, and coming to lay on top of her, pressing her hip into the mattress with his own, pairing the pressure with heavy kisses, breaking away from her as she arched into him gently, dropping his attention to the crook of her neck. She squirmed beneath him, and he chuckled against her skin, knowing she would want the upper hand. Not yet, Montana.
He pulled away fully, propping himself up on his elbows, hovering over her, almost touching his lips to hers. He gave up trying to wipe the crooked grin off his face as he glanced at her wavy curls in a state of general disarray across the homemade quilt neatly spread across her bed. Beneath him, Lindsay caught her breath, first arching an eyebrow at him, wondering why he stopped, then knitting her brow in concern, halfway sitting up as he sat back.
"What?" Her inquiry caught his attention, and he looked her in the eye.
"Gimme a minute, here, Montana."
"What's wrong?" He saw the panic flash through her eyes, the second thought kind of panic that he usually only saw by the morning light. He leaned back down, pressing a attentive, poignant kiss against her lips, reassuring her of his affection and making her thigh fall open a bit more. She groaned as his scraggly jaw scraped softly against her when he turned his attentions to her neck, compelling him to explain.
"It's just I gotta take my glasses off, and I wanted to see how beautiful you were before everything went blurry." She chuckled, laying a hand alongside his face, pushing him back as she sat up, and climbed off the bed. She shot him an amused smile, and he laughed, watching as she twirled around a full three hundred and sixty degrees in her underwear.
Plain cotton, casually hugging her curves in a loose embrace. He sat comfortably on the edge of her mattress, like he had belonged there all along. Maybe he was the last piece of the puzzle, the last element to make this apartment a home. She bent, slipping his glasses off his face, carefully folding them closed and placing them on the nightstand. He watched her, as best he could, now that his world was a bit indistinct. He held out a hand to her, and her fingers found his, and she pushed him gently over onto his back, climbing on top of him and dropping a few suggestive kisses to his lips. He ran a hand firmly along the length of her side, slipping his fingers beneath the elastic of her panties, causing her to forget she was in charge.
He rolled her over, flicking open her bra and untangling it from her arms and flinging it onto the floor behind him, assaulting her with affection, his fingers roaming around her stomach and her hip. She snaked a hand into his shortened hair, holding him steady as she pushed against him, making him groan. Casually, she draped a leg around his waist, pulling his hips down, flush with her own, breathing a sharp exhale at feeling him intimately against her.
Below him, she caught his jaw with her hand, stilling his movements, and holding him a few inches away. Even without his glasses, he could see her studying his expression, biting her lip like she did when she was trying to make a decision. Mostly, she decided whether or not suspects were giving straight answers. Now, however, she was trying to decide whether or not this was going to ruin everything.
He missed the tear welling in her eye.
Danny threw her a gentle, reassuring smile, one of his rare expressions that hardly ever were mixed in with his cocky grins and tough Staten Island smirks. They were past that. The petty auditions dressed as first dates, the niceties and polite conversations. His reputation as a note-on-the-pillow kind of guy had an element of truth to it, but then again, he'd never woken up next to Lindsay. She pulled him out of his thoughts, bringing his lips down to brush against hers, sweet, delicate, gentle, and he shuddered.
He'd never been kissed like that.
His fingers sought out the elastic of her panties, and she lifted her hips off the mattress, allowing him to pull them down the length of her legs, tossing them onto the floor. She flipped him over, pulling down his boxers in turn, but he rolled her back over, hesitantly settling against her thigh before catching her gaze and breaking into a grin. He hovered over her, not quite in her, not quite kissing her, the blue of his eyes sparkling, teasing her, as she grew tired of the suspense.
"There's no turning back, Linds."
"I know." He closed his eyes, the feel of her fingers running along his shortened hair sending a heat of arousal through him.
"This is it." This was commitment. There was nothing more. Just them. No backpedaling, no notes on the pillow. He wasn't afraid. She leaned up slightly, catching his lips, and he pushed into her, making her groan against his mouth.
"Jesus, Danny." She breathed, and he pulled back, his heart breaking as she winced, from the pressure.
"You okay?" He whispered taking her bottom lip between his, pulling deliberately, slowly. She nodded, stilling his movement for just a second with her hand on his hip, before letting her knee fall to the mattress, and arching into him, pushing him in deeper. He inhaled sharply, dipping his head to the crook of her shoulder, his breath hot on her skin, in an attempt to recover from her subtle motion. Beneath him, he felt her chuckle softly.
"Are you?" He pulled back, grinning devilishly, laughing softly with her for a moment, before catching her lips again. He ground into her, eliciting a moan from her, ready to let go already from her muscles around him, and fighting it off. She slowed the pace, torturing him sweetly, matching his movements and his affection, kiss for kiss, push for push, bearing down on him, breaking his Staten Island demeanor.
"Mi stai uccidendo." He breathed, whining almost, for her to speed up the pace before his end caught up with him. She arched an eyebrow at him, a smirk playing at her lips. She pushed on his shoulder, rolling him over onto his back, and landing on top of him, without breaking their contact, bearing down on him at a new angle, making him swear under his breath.
"You always speak Italian in bed, Detective?" He recovered quickly, flipping her back onto her back and pushing into her abruptly, causing her to gasp.
"Only when English isn't enough." He dropped kisses roughly along her collarbone, causing her to groan, arching into him deliberately.
"Fuck, Danny." He laughed, the sight of his sweet, wholesome Lindsay mumbling a curse was seemingly unreal.
Minutes later, she twisted beneath him, and he felt her tighten around him, falling into her end gracefully, and relaxing only just. He bent, kissing her wholly, following her a few moments later, stilling his hips against hers, and easing down on top of her, dropping lazy, affectionate kisses along her shoulder, falling in love with the feel of her arms around his shoulders, her fingers running along his back. He propped himself up on his elbows, scanning her features for doubt and finding contentment instead, making him smile. He pushed a stray curl out of her eyes, amused at how her wavy locks turned curly with the friction of the pillow and the trace of sweat.
She was always his downfall.
He started to roll off her, afraid, on one hand, of crushing her, but she hooked a leg around his hip, holding him in place as she twisted, using him for leverage and reaching over to the bedside table, and grabbing his glasses. He bit his lip, watching her focus her attention of carefully unfolding them, and sliding the frames into place, securely balanced on the bridge of his nose. She came into focus now, and his eyes teared instantly from the sheer beauty of her laying against the pillow, a goofy smile smattered across her lips, swollen from his kisses, pink from the scratches of his goatee.
"Thanks." He kissed her again, gentlemanly, and rolled off her, pulling out, laying beside her. He held out a hand to her, and she curled into him, weaving a knee between his thigh and draping an arm around his waist, pillowing her head on his shoulder. Danny pressed a companionable kiss to her almost curly hair, sifting his hand through it leisurely.
She'd discovered his weaknesses, she'd brought him to his knees. He had gone his whole life believing he was untouchable, and building walls to hold his emotion. He He couldn't help but smile as he listened to her breathing steady, her body relaxing against him. He reached to his side, pulling the covers securely around them. She'd made him love her, whether she meant to or not. They had a serious discussion coming up, in a few hours when they both had some sleep and a chance to clear their heads of hormones and dirty thoughts. Probably a number of serious discussions.
For now, though, it was just them.
Maybe it was always just them, and they had failed to notice.
Maybe he was really falling in love, maybe he already had.
He glanced down at her, failing to prevent a broad grin from spreading across his features. She stirred, shifting, and twisting to face him, pressing a lingering kiss to his lip, which he accepted. When she pulled away, there was a glitter in her eye, and he caught a glimpse of what loving Lindsay could entail. Her expression turned somber for a moment, and he frowned, tightening his grip on her waist.
"What, Linds?"
"I don't want you to break my heart." She answered quietly, and he smiled, running a hand through her hair.
"Only if you don't break mine." He watched her return his grin, and nod. She had broken his defenses, broken his resolve, shattered his image, but she would never break his heart. She was like Delilah, he thought, destroying the columns imprisoning his heart, coaxing him to be himself. He chuckled softly, even his hair was shorter. He only hoped she wouldn't leave him. Now, now he knew how Samson must have felt. Brought to his knees when he least expected it.
"What's funny?"
"Nothing." She rolled her eyes, and settled beside him, he took the hint, rolling over on his side and pulling the back of her body flush with the front of his, wrapping an arm securely around her middle, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder before nodding off to sleep.
So this was catching Delilah.
He had a feeling he'd be doing it for the rest of his life.
….
(thanks to Cecelia for the correct Italian translation)