Chapter 3: Magic Man
Cold late night so long ago
When I was not so strong you know
A pretty man came to me
Never seen eyes so blue
When they arrived at Lindsay's apartment, he simply lifted her, still sleeping, in his arms, after rifling her purse for the keys, and carried her to her door. She felt cold, almost brittle in his arms, as if his conscious effort to freeze her out all night had actually worked.
He kicked open the door and stopped for a moment – he had never been in her apartment. It looked pretty empty considering she'd lived there several months. The few things she had picked up or brought with her seemed to have been chosen with care to fit together and begin creating a home. Instinctively, he moved through the apartment to the back to find the bedroom, placing her gently on the bed, slipping off her boots, and pulling a bright, flowered quilt over her. Mission accomplished, he sat on the side of her bed. He stretched out his hand, ignoring the fact that it shook a little, to stroke her honey brown curls, then moved in to the kitchen to see if he could find her some food.
When Lindsay woke up, she lay in bed a moment, wondering what had happened. How had she got home again? She could tell from the sky outside that it was well into the daylight hours, so she had slept, but for how long? Why was she still dressed? In a flash, the whole horrible night came back to her and she pulled the pillow over her head to shut out the deservedly cold reception Danny had given her, the humiliation of Sid's thorough exam, and the bitter-sweetness of knowing Danny must have brought her home and put her to bed.
She rolled over, surprised by the lack of pain in her head. However, moving alerted her to a crucial need, and she reluctantly got out of bed to use the bathroom, groaning slightly. When she stepped through the door, she stopped in shock.
Her bathroom sparkled, as she knew it had not when she had run out of the apartment after answering the phone. After spending most of the evening between her aborted date with Danny and the early morning call alternating between her bed and the floor of the bathroom, she knew that the room should look, and smell, a lot worse than it did at present. Someone had scrubbed the floor, the sink, and even the toilet.
"Humiliation: complete." She finished what she had come in for and went to see if she could find something to eat.
"Problem, Monroe?" She bit back a scream as she came around the door and saw Danny sitting at his ease on her couch, drinking a beer and channel-surfing.
"You…you…" she stuttered in shock, then said the first thing that came into her head. "You cleaned my bathroom?"
The corner of his mouth curled up in appreciation for the honest dismay she felt, and he said casually, "Made you soup, too. It's in a pot on the stove. " He stood up and stretched, yawning a little more than he needed to. "Anything else you need? 'Cuz I should get home."
"Oh Danny," she stopped and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, really sorry, for everything." To her shame, her voice broke and her eyes filled with tears. Before the first one could fall, he was holding her in his arms, wiping her eyes and stroking her back. He didn't move until she had finished crying, but once she had, he stepped away. Moving to the kitchen, he efficiently spooned her out a bowl of soup, putting out crackers and bread and pulling the butter out of the fridge.
Bemused, she wondered how long he had been waiting for her to wake up – he seemed to have had plenty of time to explore her kitchen, and clean her bathroom, she thought with a groan of dismay. She glanced at the cow clock on her kitchen wall, a moving gift joke from her Montana colleagues, and froze in shock.
"3:00?" she gasped in horror, "How can it be 3:00?" They had finished the scene in the early morning, then worked in the lab – she must have slept for hours.
Danny turned around with a very serious look on his face and, beginning with, "Well, you see, Montana, what happens is, the earth moves AROUND the sun …," would have gone on to explain the entire workings of the known universe if she hadn't groaned theatrically. When he shut up, his smile lit up his eyes for the first time since the flash bomb had gone off. She felt more warmed by that sight than she did by the soup steaming fragrantly in front of her. She tasted it, then took another bite.
"I didn't have anything like this in my cupboard," she stated positively. "Danny, did you ... did you cook?"
He flushed a little at the disbelief in her voice, but said casually, "All part of the service, ma'am," in his worst cowboy drawl.
"You cook; you clean; if you can tell me the batting average of the New York Yankees starting line-up, I might have to ask you to marry me!" She hoped that the reference to his joke of a few months ago would keep the mood light. Instead, it was as if she had hit a switch. The warm, teasing light died out of Danny's eyes and he turned away from her to wipe the pristine counter.
"I should go – I need to check in with Mac before I go home," he said briskly. He hung up the towel carefully and went into the living room to grab his jacket. "Anything I can do for you before I go? Anything you need?" Nothing but kindness and a friendly interest showed in his voice or face.
Her mind longed to scream out, "Stay! You!", but her mouth would not open. She had lost it all this time. Somewhere, she'd lost her chance.