DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, but if I did… I would make it a point to have Danny shirtless in at least one scene each episode.
WARNING: THESE SCENES ARE NOT CHRONOLOGICAL. Each segment is a drabble/bite-size scene in my version of the DL universe.
A/N: Thank you for the kind reviews. Here is another batch.
Unbeta-ed. You will find grammar mistakes. And they are mine.
Enjoy
There's a small scar running vertically, a millimeter from the curve of his lips—his tongue often runs across it, either out of habit or memory.
She knew that scar. Knew the skin in the before and after, had kissed and trace the outline of his mouth as he lay asleep on the pool table, and weeks later, when he had fallen asleep on the couch, and she was hit with the nauseous feeling that she almost lost him before she even had him.
He had caught her observation, how he often wakes up to the feel of her finger skimming lightly over the broken skin. He told her scars are sexy. She quirked an eyebrow and said, "Falling off a bicycle at the age of ten and giving you that scar," she rubbed her foot against the side of his knee of the said old injury, " is not sexy. It's pathetic."
He merely laughed, and offhandedly said that he got sexier scars, his mirth and suggestive brow enveloping her. She playfully slapped his chest and got off the bed, turning her face away from him and stepping into the bathroom, his cries of objection muffled by the wood door.
On the other side, she grasped the sink bowl.
Danny has a lot of scars. Sexier ones, yes. She's a scientist. She knows that they are evidence embedded in the body. They tell a story, some stupid, some horrific. She's a cop. She knows the violence, the danger of their job. She knows that other than the jagged skin across his left knee and the few scrapes on his elbows, the other scars are signs of survival. She dread but knew, that broken bones and broken skins will follow them—some caused by accidents, most caused in the name of justice.
Danny Messer is sexy. And God help her if he gets sexier.
Lindsay leaned back from her desk as several fliers plopped down on top of her current paperwork. She eyed them suspiciously before looking up at Danny, trying to figure out the sudden interruption.
" The hell Messer?" She asked.
Danny shrugged and crossed his arms. Lindsay tilted her head and said, " Let me rephrase that." Crossing her own arms, she held his gaze and said, " Why are there a dozen or more take out menus on my desk Danny?"
Danny threw her a grin, the corners of his eyes crinkling with delights. " You neva' wanna eat out with me, so I figured I bring the food to you."
Lindsay could only laugh at his logic, noting that the boy is adamant in sharing dinner with her. " And you think I'd say yes to this?"
" A guy gotta do what a guy gotta do," he answered. He leaned against the glass wall, and nodded towards the menus. " So, what you eatin' Montana?"
Lindsay scanned the various choices. " Pizza with extra pepperoni?"
Danny smiled, one of those toothy ones that seem to take ten years off his face. Lindsay couldn't help but smile back; Lord knows he's handsome when he's like that. "I knew I like ya for a reason Montana," he replied, before flipping open his phone and hit speed dial. Lindsay could only give a knowing smirk, which she noted, he returned.
She watched, in stunned horror as the butt of the rifle came down hard against his back, forcing his knees to give, and he fell on the cement floor, the rifle now nestling against his neck, and all she could do was sit in the nondescript van and watched the scene unfold from their surveillance camera.
She barely registered the exchange of words between Mac and their perp, her eyes fixated on the crumpled form of a man she shared office with. All she could do was watched the small screen, trying to even out her breathing, grasping at professional detachment.
There's a desperate pull in their kisses. A sense of urgency, pent up lust, and a hint of something neither wanted to explore right now.
The small of her back leaned against the felt covered pool table, Danny's hand trapping her body before lifting her up on the table and biting, dragging his mouth over her neck, wanting to taste her; grinning when he found the right spot; hoping that he's not dreaming.
Her hands tugged him closer, his fingers already working the buttons and zippers. She tangled her fingers among his locks, before dragging her short clipped nails across his shoulder blades, wishing they were longer so she could mark him, own him, let him carry a bit of her tomorrow when reality is released from pause.
They both sported similar carpet burns from the felt, both knowing the science of friction and the pain associated with irritated skin, but the branding was theirs to own.
The sun was unusually relentless on his back; the rays pushing autumn further down the calendar. He felt the summer grass beneath his fingers, abstractly stroking the earth as he knelt down in front of the headstone.
He brought her favorite flowers, remembering a time when he teased her to be so girly when a bouquet of white roses was delivered to their then shared office. He remembered the slight chuckle that she emitted when she realized that Flack had stepped up and tried to play the classic romantic angle at winning her attention and affection. He had muttered a smart-ass remark that earned him a smack to the back of his head.
He rubbed the back of his head in remembrance of the ghosting pain.
He placed the flowers under her name, sobering when he realized just how young she was when she died—how young all of them are in the world. He's only a couple of years older than her. Flack is younger than him by three months. Even Stella and Mac are still at their primed. Lindsay…. He calculated that if yesterday had gone differently, Lindsay would've been buried at the same age as Aiden.
He pushed his glasses up, stood, and pushed his hands into his jeans pocket.
" Yesterday… yesterday you almost met her Aiden," Danny started. " But, not yet okay?" he whispered, feeling a tad bit silly for talking to a headstone as his Catholic upbringing giving him hope that she was listening somewhere.
" I just want…" he paused, slightly wondering exactly what he wants.
" I just need more time."
A/N part dos: Review please. And have a great day!