A.N. Okay, so I finished by midnight LAST night. Heh. (clears throat) Sorry.
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"Talked to Danny recently?" Jen asked languidly.
Lindsay pulled a face and twisted on the mattress, vainly attempting to find a comfortable position. Physical therapy was evil. "Not in a few days."
"Why not?"
Sighing irritably, Lindsay shifted the phone to her other ear. "I don't know, Jen. You could ask him for me. You see him more than I do."
The only thing Lindsay could hear was Jen's quiet breathing. "You okay?" Jen asked finally.
Immediately, Lindsay wished she'd never answered the phone. "Sorry, Jen," she muttered, trying to find a cool place on the pillow. "The physical therapist just left. I'm a bit…snippy."
"Snippy?"
When Jen laughed, Lindsay grit her teeth then, surprisingly, relaxed completely. The pain even eased a bit as she chuckled herself. "Yeah. Snippy," she repeated with a smile. "How are things at work?"
Jen's laughter trailed off. "Oh, things are fine, I guess."
"Still avoiding everyone?"
"I'm not avoiding them. I can't avoid them. They're everywhere," Jen said bitterly.
"That happens when you're back on cases." Lindsay bit her lip, unsure what to say to her friend.
"Yeah. God I miss desk duty."
"They're not mad at you, Jen. No one blames you for what happened."
"You're kidding, right? I'm surprised Danny doesn't have a hit out on me."
Lindsay raised an eyebrow. "Not Danny's style. He's more of a hands on kind of guy," Lindsay said coolly.
Silence echoed over the line. "That's not funny."
Lindsay took a calming breath only to pause as it stretched her sore muscles. "Jen, Danny told me they're not mad at you."
As soon as the words left her mouth, Lindsay knew her mistake. Biting her lip, she waited for the shoe to drop. "You talked about me with Danny?" Jen asked, voice low.
"It was when I was still in the hospital. I was just worried," Lindsay hurriedly explained. "You seemed so stressed, and you avoided the hospital when anyone else would be there. He was the only one I could ask if you were okay."
"You could have asked me," Jen protested, her voice slightly shrill.
"I did," Lindsay argued. "But you wouldn't talk to me."
Jen didn't say anything else, and Lindsay bit her lip, listening to the labored breathing on the other end. "I'm sorry, Jen."
Jen sighed. "It's all right. It's just…embarrassing."
Lindsay waited for another response but didn't get one as Jen fell silent again. Clearing her throat, she changed topics. "Have you worked with Adam yet? Danny said Mac's been sending him into the field a bit."
"Who's Adam?"
"He's one of the lab guys. Tall, blond, has a beard."
"If he's a lab guy, why's Mac sending him into the field?"
Lindsay shifted again on the mattress. The drugs wearing off left her uncomfortable and, for some reason, itchy. "He helps collect trace. Mac needs all the help he can get right now."
"I think I worked with him once a long time ago, but we never really spoke. Haven't seen him recently." Lindsay caught her breath as a spike of pain hit her, radiating out from her side. "Linds?"
"Jen, I'm sorry, I gotta go."
"That's fine. I'll call you tomorrow."
"Good. Okay."
"Bye."
Lindsay groaned in relief as the phone fell from her ear. Lowering her arm, she grabbed two handfuls of the bed sheets and hung on.
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Freddy set the plate in front of her and settled into his chair across the table. Looking down at the chicken, vegetables and rice, Lindsay felt the urge to throw it against the far wall. The most interesting thing she'd eaten in the past three months was the lasagne Danny had smuggled to her.
She winced at the memory of Hawkes finding out about that. She didn't think she'd ever seen him as mad as he was when he told her that eating such heavy foods was dangerous right after abdominal surgery. She assumed he'd told Danny as much since Danny never brought anything else to the hospital.
And she hadn't seen him since Freddy had whisked her away to the tower. Biting her lip, she mixed the chicken and vegetables with the rice on her plate. As much as she wanted new and different foods, she wanted entertainment more.
"How's physical therapy going?" Freddy asked, taking a bite of his own rice.
She had to admit, it was kind of him to limit his own intake to whatever she was eating. Mostly. She glowered at her plate as she remembered the Indian food he'd brought home the week before.
"All right, I guess," she muttered. "It feels like it's going really slowly."
"It's only your second week."
"I know. I just want it to go faster, you know? I want to see progress."
Freddy paused in eating and looked up at her. "Linny, you made it all the way across the apartment today without collapsing. I'd say that's progress."
She glanced at him in surprise. She hadn't even noticed, but he was right. She hadn't needed his help to make it to the dining table from the den. Lowering her eyes to her plate again, she nodded. "Huh," she said quietly.
"I know it's boring, but you have to eat something," Freddy said gently. Grudgingly, Lindsay raised a forkful of broccoli and began to chew. "I spoke to your doctor. He said you need to come in for a checkup."
Lindsay's shoulders straightened. "When?" she asked, her voice vibrating with anticipation.
Worry settled over Freddy's face. "Next week. I asked him to come here, but he said he needed to do a few tests."
"Freddy, it's just across town. I can make it there and back in one piece."
She watched him try to clear the emotion off his face. "I know."
"Don't you have meetings all next week?" she suddenly remembered.
He shrugged. "I'll rearrange them."
"You can't just rearrange them, Freddy. They're board meetings," she told him, annoyed with his unfailing calm.
"Then I won't go."
"If you don't go, you'll get fired," she snapped, slamming her fork down onto the table.
"Don't talk to me like that, young lady." His voice was even, but the quirk of his eyebrow told her he was not happy with her temper. Then he lowered his gaze back to his food.
Taking a deep breath, Lindsay pushed the anger back. "Look," she said, trying to sound reasonable. "There are other people who can take me to the doctor."
"Danny is not taking you to the doctor on his motorcycle," Freddy told her, not bothering to look up from his plate.
Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Lindsay just kept breathing evenly. "What about Jen? She has access to a nice safe four door. Hell, it even has lights on the roof."
Freddy flicked his eyes up at her without raising his head. "Is she free on Wednesday?"
Relief spread through her. "Yes." And if she wasn't, she could be.
"Fine."
"Good."
They ate in silence for a few minutes. Lindsay tried to eat steadily so Freddy wouldn't baby her anymore than he already was. The cabin fever was settling in full force and her bad temper seemed to finally be getting on Freddy's nerves. Or maybe it was that he'd been in one place for three months. He wasn't good at that.
"By the way," he said casually. The sheer carelessness of his tone made her eyes narrow at her plate. "I'm throwing a dinner party here in a few weeks for the big donators to the magazine."
Lindsay frowned. "You're having them here?"
"Mmhmm. Only about thirty or so people."
Nodding, Lindsay stared worriedly at her plate. She'd been his date to these things before but they'd always been at fancy restaurants. Toying with her fork, she silently worried about the new development.
Freddy sighed. "Lindsay, you have to eat."
"I'm not really hungry," she told him.
He stared at her for a moment, apparently deciding she was telling the truth. "All right. Do you need help?" he asked as she stood with her plate.
"No, I'm fine."
But she felt his worried eyes on her as she stuck the plate in the dishwasher and slowly made her way across the apartment to her bedroom.
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"You live here?" Jen asked incredulously as Lindsay opened the front door for her.
"No, my uncle does," Lindsay said, shutting the door and pausing to lean against the wall.
Worriedly, Jen touched her elbow. "You all right?"
"Those last couple steps are a doozy," Lindsay muttered with a small smile before shoving away from the wall.
"Maybe you should sit. What are you doing walking around like this anyway? Shouldn't you be in bed?"
Lindsay was slowly realizing that, in most situations, having Jen snap at her was akin to having her mother stroke her hair. So she answered as mildly as she could. "I'm just following the doctor's orders."
"The doctor told you to wear yourself out?" Jen muttered under her breath as Lindsay pulled on her coat.
"No, my physical therapist told me I need to use the muscles. So, I take a few turns around the apartment."
"How many laps make a mile?" Jen asked, her arms folded across her chest as she surveyed the great room.
Lindsay snorted and they moved back towards the door. "Sorry, no tour today."
"There's more than that?" Jen asked, jerking a thumb over her shoulder as Lindsay opened the front door.
"Not really, just the den and the bedrooms. The deck's pretty cool, though. I've been sneaking out there when Freddy's gone."
"He leaves you alone?" Jen frowned, following Lindsay into the elevator. "Shouldn't he stick around. You know, in case you need him?"
Lindsay stifled a sigh. "He did at first, when I couldn't get around on my own. But now it seems silly to tell him to put his life on hold."
The elevator ride was quick, and they were out in the October breeze before Jen could think of a response. Lindsay wanted to giggle as Jen goggled at the valet, who already had the car ready by the time they left the lobby. She patiently let Jen fuss over her as she climbed into the car, knowing that if she didn't Jen would just hover around her, worrying.
"So you and Danny haven't made up yet, huh?" Jen said, buckling her seatbelt.
Lindsay furrowed her brow in confusion. "I didn't think we were on the outs."
"When was the last time he called?"
"Not since we fought about Freddy," she admitted after a moment. "But it wasn't that big of a deal."
"Well, let me just say that Danny Messer is as close as I ever want to get to a grizzly bear."
Lindsay winced. "What's wrong?"
"I have no idea, but I saw him taking a guy's head off in the lab on my way out."
Danny never yelled at the lab techs. "Why?"
Jen shrugged. "I don't know. He was saying something about his results not being fast enough. But I didn't stick around to catch the gist."
Chewing on her lip, Lindsay looked out the window. "He's probably just stressed."
"Maybe. Our case is pretty strange, so that might be it." When Lindsay's eyes lit up, Jen chuckled. "Body found in a rest stop bathroom just outside of the city, obviously dumped there. Prints all over her body, different enough for more than two sets."
"Weird," Lindsay agreed. "Have you guys gotten any hits with AFIS?"
"Not a one so far, but he was still running them when I left. At least, he was supposed to be," she muttered.
"That's probably it then. He gets grumpy when he's frustrated."
Jen pulled a face. "Then I hope he gets a hit soon, cuz he's a little scary when he's mad."
Lindsay shrugged. "You don't have anything to worry about."
"No, you don't have anything to worry about. The rest of us are in the line of fire."
Rolling her eyes, Lindsay leaned her head back against the seat. "He's all bark," she murmured as her lids fell shut.
She heard Jen laugh softly and then settle into silence. She let herself drift as Jen steered them through the midtown traffic. A few moments later, she was being shaken awake. "Linds, we're here."
Groggily, she opened her eyes and stared blankly at the parking garage. She was still out of it when Jen pulled the passenger door open and barely managed to undo her own seat belt.
"All right, Monroe, let's get a move on. You ready?"
Mumbling an affirmative, Lindsay let Jen tow her into the building, still trying to shake the sleep from her mind. She felt Jen glance at her worriedly as she sank into a chair in the waiting room, but she tried her best to appear normal and not ready to keel over at a gust of wind.
The wait was relatively short and a nurse soon appeared to take Lindsay's height, weight and blood pressure. By the time they were ushered into the doctor's office, Lindsay felt marginally more aware of her surroundings. Jen followed her in without asking, but Lindsay wasn't about to protest.
"Good afternoon ladies," Doctor Weston said with a smile as he stepped through the door.
"Hi, doctor," Lindsay said, the usual self-consciousness of sitting on an exam table coloring her tone. Jen nodded and smiled politely, but she and the doctor didn't know each other, so she stayed quiet.
"How've you been?" he asked, flipping through her chart.
"All right, I guess. I started physical therapy last week."
He looked up from taking notes. "And that's going well?"
She shrugged. "I think so. I still get tired pretty easily, though I've been walking around more."
"Don't over do it," he warned her and she nodded. "But it's a good idea to work those muscles. Why don't you lie back?"
Staring at the ceiling while he lightly probed her stomach, Lindsay clenched and unclenched her fist. His hands were cold, but she bit her lip and tried to deal with it.
"Have you been following the diet I gave your uncle? Take a deep breath."
"Yes," she said bitterly after she'd breathed out.
The doctor chuckled. "You should be good to eat whatever you want now, just nothing too heavy."
"Like don't eat a whole pizza?" Jen asked with an innocent expression.
Lindsay glared over his shoulder as the doctor blinked in surprise. "Well, I hardly think Miss Monroe indulges in that on a regular basis," he said mildly.
Jen smirked and Lindsay shifted a little on the table in embarrassment. "It wouldn't cause you much trouble, really," he continued thoughtfully, as if the proposition intrigued him. "Though it would be pretty painful, I'd imagine. You don't want to stress your stomach too much while your abdominal muscles are still healing."
Lindsay nodded, hearing the paper sheet crinkle under her head. "But otherwise, I can eat whatever I want?"
"That's right," he said with a small smile. Then he lifted her shirt and carefully pressed the area around her fresh scar. He frowned lightly in concentration as he worked and Lindsay hoped Jen couldn't see around him. "Looks like it's healing nicely."
With another smile, he settled her shirt back in place and moved to the cabinets along one wall. "It seems you've lost a little weight," he said, his voice still smooth and even.
Lindsay shifted into a sitting position. "I guess so. I haven't been very hungry."
The doctor nodded. "Understandable. Especially when taking pain medication. However, weight loss while your body is trying to heal isn't helpful. I want you to keep an eye on that. Let's make another appointment for a couple of weeks from now."
"All right," she murmured, surprised that the appointment had gone so quickly.
"How are you doing on painkillers?" he asked. "Is the percocet still working for you?"
"I haven't needed it as much. I'm down to one or two times a day."
The doctor nodded with an expression of concerned interest. "Is there a time of day the pain is worst?"
"Usually it starts to get bad in the evening," she said, nervously fiddling with the fabric of her yoga pants. "The rest of the day I'm just sore. It's a bit worse now that I've started physical therapy. Sometimes I wake up with a bad cramp."
"That's common," the doctor assured her. "But it sounds like it might be time to move on to something a bit more mild. I'll write you another prescription for the percocet just in case, but let's try something less overwhelming for your better days."
Lindsay watched as he scribbled furiously then ripped the sheets off his pad. She took the prescriptions and carefully slid off the table. "I'll see you in two weeks then," she said.
The doctor held the door open for them and followed them into the hallway. "You look good, Lindsay. Keep up the good work."
Jen and Lindsay watched him stride down the hallway away from them. "Did he just hit on you?" Jen asked.
Lindsay laughed and started towards the pharmacy. "He meant I'm healing well. Get your mind out of the gutter."
"Excuse me, I have a gutterless mind. Silk sheets all the way."
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Lindsay was on the deck when Freddy came home later that afternoon. She knew the minute he spotted her because he froze, his face still indistinct across the distance of the room.
Sighing, she stood and made her way through the double doors. "Hey, how was your meeting?"
"Fine," he said, eyeing her speculatively. "Should you be out there?"
"You think I'm going to fall over the railing?"
He was obviously struggling to rein in his overprotective instinct. "The doctor said it was okay to go outside?"
"He said I'm healing nicely and to keep doing what I've been doing. Better, he said I could eat whatever I want. No more rice and vegetables," she cried, pumping her fist in the air victoriously. She spoiled the effect by yawning immediately afterward.
"Tired?" he asked, the worry still eating at his tone.
"I'm fine," she said, waving off his anxiety.
"Don't worry, I have something that'll help," he said, pride in his voice.
She smiled a little at his excitement. "What?"
He held up a finger and disappeared back through the front door to the entryway in front of the elevator. The door blocked her view, and she craned her neck to try and see around it. He grinned as he came back inside, pushing his prize through the doorway.
"Is that a wheelchair?" she asked without emotion.
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The day had dawned as painfully as the day before, but she'd awoken with a determination she hadn't felt in the past few months.
That emotion found a concrete outlet as she swung her legs over the side and shuffled across the room. Today, she would shower. No more baths, she was done with them. She smiled throughout her morning ablutions and didn't even flinch when she collapsed back in the bed in a painful heap, sore from standing for too long. She'd made it across the room, the rest would come eventually.
And without a bloody wheelchair.
Sighing, she picked up her phone and considered the next hurdle in her life. Lindsay stared at Danny's name highlighted on the screen, chewing on her lip. It bothered her that she hadn't heard from Danny in so long. She couldn't believe it had taken her a week to consider that he might be mad at her. The idea left a hollow feeling inside her stomach. She'd just assumed he was busy with his case load.
Before she could think too much about it, Lindsay pressed send. It went straight to voicemail and she sighed, leaving a vague message. Then she tossed the phone across the bed and stood again, determined to make the most of her new mobility.
Grabbing a book and her sunglasses, she slowly shuffled her way to the deck. Taking a deep breath of, unfortunately, smoggy city air, she coughed and sank down onto the lounge.
"Oh, hello there."
Lindsay barely refrained from jumping out of her skin. The older woman blinking at her from just inside the doorway smiled brightly."Are you Lindsay?"
"Uh," Lindsay said intelligently, wondering how this woman had gotten in to Freddy's fortress of a penthouse.
"I'm Mrs. Callahan. The new housekeeper," the gray-haired woman prompted, obviously expecting Lindsay to recognize the name.
"Yes, of course," Lindsay murmured. The manners her mother had deeply ingrained in her finally kicked in and she smiled tensely. "It's nice to meet you."
"Likewise. Well, I won't get in your way, dear. Did you want some breakfast?"
"Oh, no, no," Lindsay said, waving her hands. "I'm fine. But thank you."
"Just let me know if you change your mind."
Lindsay smiled and nodded again. Mrs. Callahan, apparently satisfied with the conversation, smiled back and disappeared into the recesses of the apartment. Staring after the older woman, Lindsay tried to unfreeze the smile from her face.
What the hell was going on with Freddy?
Two hours later, Lindsay managed to sneak into the kitchen when Mrs. Callahan was cleaning the bedrooms. She'd tried to fetch herself glasses of water in the preceding hours, but had always been stymied by an overly helpful housekeeper.
Mrs. C—as she preferred to be called—kept a pitcher of fresh lemonade in the fridge and brought Lindsay full glasses every half hour. Mrs. C liked Irish folk ballads, but was perfectly willing to change the music if it bothered Lindsay. Mrs. C constantly produced snacks, the sheer variety of which amazed Lindsay.
All she wanted was a sandwich and there was no way in hell she was asking Mrs. C to make one for her.
So, Lindsay bided her time as the housekeeper carefully cleaned every window, dusted every surface and mopped every inch of the great room. Lindsay had to hand it to Mrs. C; she was very thorough. Finally, though, the older woman finished with the living room and kitchen and wandered into the back rooms of the apartment.
Lindsay hurriedly built her sandwich, jumping at every small noise and trying to withdraw to the deck again before Mrs. C noticed. She heard the elevator ding and a few seconds passed before Freddy's key could be heard in the lock.
Shuffling through his mail, Freddy looked up as he dropped his keys on the hall table and paused when he spotted Lindsay in the kitchen. "Hey," he called.
Lindsay watched as he tossed the mail down next to the keys and glanced around the apartment. "She's in the back."
Nodding, Freddy started towards her. "She's nice, right?"
"Very." Lindsay shoved the top piece of bread down on the sandwich, reveling in the crunch the lettuce made.
She could feel Freddy eyeing her. "What're you doing?"
Lindsay glared hotly at him. "Building an airplane."
"All right, Your Snarkiness, what's wrong now?" Freddy asked, leaning against the counter.
"Nothing. I'm fine. Which is, of course, the point."
Sighing, he crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not following."
"I can make my own sandwich and fetch my own water," she hissed, hoping the nice woman down the hall couldn't hear them. "I don't need a chef to do it for me."
"She's a housekeeper, not a chef."
"Semantics." Pulling out a knife, Lindsay violently cut the sandwich down the middle.
"So she kept trying to feed you, huh?" Freddy asked with a smile. "Sounds like Molly."
"Freddy, I don't need you to hire servants to do things for me," Lindsay told him, ignoring the question and comment.
Straightening, he opened a cupboard and took out two plates. "I hate cooking and I hate cleaning. So I hired someone to do it for me."
"How bourgeois," Lindsay muttered.
Freddy ignored her, setting the plates on the counter. "I don't see how this was a direct attack on your independence."
Lindsay put half of the sandwich on each plate and waited as Freddy pulled out a bag of chips. "You didn't have one before," she pointed out, grabbing two bananas from the fruit bowl.
"We didn't have fruit before she came either," he countered. "I always forgot to go to the store. Mrs. C is a preemptive strike against starvation."
Lindsay rolled her eyes, picked up both plates and headed back out to the deck. "There's lemonade in the fridge," she muttered, sliding her sunglasses back down on her nose.
Freddy followed a few minutes later with two glasses and napkins. "You think I'm being overprotective?"
"If the wheelchair fits," she said, biting into her sandwich.
Freddy sighed impatiently. "I thought it was a good idea." She shot him a look over the edge of her sunglasses. "Apparently, I was wrong," he mumbled, picking up a chip.
Then her phone rang and Freddy eyed it with irritation. "God I hate cell phones," he muttered, standing and taking his food with him.
Lindsay smirked at his back. Flipping the phone open, she craned her neck to see if he was really gone. She caught a glimpse of him as he disappeared down the hall. "Monroe?"
"Hey, got your message." She was so surprised to hear Danny's voice she couldn't think of the proper response. "Lindsay?"
"Hey," she murmured after a moment. "How are you?"
"Fine. You?"
"I'm good. I started physical therapy." Blinking, she pulled the phone away from her ear. That was her big conversation starter, physical therapy stories?
To her surprise, he actually sounded interested. "Oh really? How's that going?"
"So far, fine. The doctor says I look good. You should've seen Jen's face when he said that. She thought he was hitting on me," she said with a laugh.
Danny was silent. "But, uh, he wasn't," Lindsay continued nervously.
"Jen took you to the doctor?"
Lindsay let her eyes slide shut with a wince. She really just couldn't do anything right these days. "Yeah. Yesterday. Freddy couldn't take me. He has meetings all this week," she added inanely.
"He's leaving you alone during the day?" Danny said. His voice had a thread of anger in it, but she tried her best to ignore it.
"Didn't you hear me? I started physical therapy. I am officially mobile again." She glanced over her shoulder as Danny chuckled in her ear. "Which brings me to why I called you," Lindsay said, making a quick decision.
"Aw and here I thought you were missing my pretty face," he teased.
"Well, that too. But I'm breaking out, wanna come?"
"Uh…what?"
Sighing, she backpeddled. "My uncle's driving me insane. He won't let me do anything for myself." She paused as the irritation bubbled up. "He got me a freaking wheelchair."
"You don't need a wheelchair," Danny said mildly to show he understood.
Adoring him silently for a long moment, she waited for the emotion to pass before continuing. "Exactly. I need to get out."
"What'd you have in mind?" he asked warily.
"Anything that gets me outside," she murmured. "Wait a second."
She paused and listened for a moment. Her uncle's footsteps sounded on the marble in the foyer. "Crap. I gotta go, he's coming back. Are you off tomorrow?"
"Yeah," Danny said, obviously overwhelmed by the conversation.
"Come over around lunch time, all right?" Quickly, she whispered the address to him. "He should be in his meeting by then."
"Er…okay."
She hung up as she heard Freddy near the doorway. "Who was it?" he asked, looking down at the stack of mail in his hand.
"Danny," she answered, eyeing the white envelopes. Had Freddy cancelled her mail? Too tired to fight about it if he hadn't, she let the moment pass. "Anything interesting?"
"Bills." He shook his head and leaned against the doorjamb. "Never really had to deal with those before."
Biting back a smile at his bewildered expression, she settled her head against the cushion. "They're not as confusing as they seem."
He sighed and moved back into the shade of the apartment. Lindsay rose from the chaise and followed with her plate. She was relieved to see that Mrs. C was still busy in the back rooms.
"Plans for the weekend?" she asked, biting back a remark as he took the plate from her hand and began to wash it.
"Not really," he said, rinsing the soap away. "Why?"
Lindsay shrugged. "You just never seem to go out anymore."
"So?"
"So, for a while there, you were never home," she explained. "What happened?"
"Nothing," he grumbled, putting the plate in the rack and wiping his hands on a towel.
"Okay," she drawled, drawing out the first syllable. "There's nothing strange about a man who has a lunch date every Saturday for two months then suddenly stops leaving the apartment except for meetings. Nothing at all."
His eyes narrowed and he tossed the towel haphazardly on the counter. "You're planning something."
Blinking, Lindsay felt her brow furrow at the sudden shift in conversation. "Like what?"
He eyed her speculatively. "I don't know yet."
Smiling sarcastically, Lindsay turned away. "Rest easy," she said as she crossed the room. "It's not like I could get anywhere without my trusty wheelchair."
"Very funny," he called after her.
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messermonroe: I'm working on, I swear. And look! Next chapter they'll be seeing each other face to face. Gasp!
Tenley: Yay! I'm glad you liked Freddy's backstory. And I hope the face time they'll get next chapter will put an end to the frustration and fighting.
chili-peppers: I'm glad you liked the last chapter. It felt a little anti-climactic after a few weeks of silence on my part, but the next few will be more progressive, I promise.
Od: Let the csi obsession grow! I'm glad your sister is enjoying the story, too. The DL love is spreading. Should have another update by tomorrow, but we all saw how well that worked out on Sunday. Sigh.
Devilla: No, no, didn't forget. I have major plans for this story. I just lost my poor little computer. Sniffle. It's amazing how dependent I am on this little machine. Everything was on here: my email, all my writing, homework files, even my address book and schedule! I felt so lost. Anyway. DL face to face time is coming up in the next chapter, which should be up tomorrow. Yay!
berta101: Next chapter holds the "aw" moment you're searching for, I promise. (looks mysterious)
qt4good: A couple of months are supposed to have passed since the shooting, so Angell was on desk duty for awhile. But they needed her back on homicide so off she goes (despite her own reservations). She's back on cases now. I don't think anyone was really giving her a hard time per say. I think they were all a little reserved since the incident was questionable, but, like Danny pointed out, she's been avoiding everyone pretty thoroughly except to talk to them about case stuff. I'll try and include some more details on Jen's issues.
silverjazz: Oh no! Don't forget about us! I swear I'll update in a more timely fashion now that my computer's back. Freddy's backstory will be important later on, perhaps in the final story of this series (it's going to be a trilogy), so I'm glad it's interesting. It is sad, isn't it? I feel bad for him. Sometimes I'm so mean to my characters. Speaking of my evilness, Lindsay and Danny actually get some face time in the next chapter, so that'll help with their frustration, I think.
maqatty: Don't worry, Freddy's not a bad guy. He's just bad with people. And it doesn't help that Lindsay's been so snarky lately. But he's really not so bad. More Danny and Lindsay in the next chapter, I swear!
mercy4vr: Poor Danny is right. He's having to deal with a half-crazed Lindsay, worry about her health and work over time for her absence at work. I'm surprised he's still as sane as he is. It's not all that shocking that he's losing patience.
The Little Corinthian: Oh that sexy spectacled detective will be around to distract her next chapter. I can't believe there's a new episode tomorrow night. Too good to be true! I wonder if Danny and Lindsay will be on a case together again. Two in a row is too much to wish for, though, right?
ReJo: No worries, face to face interaction will be next chapter. I think most of the tension will disappear after that. I'm trying to keep the chapters manageable but they keep getting away from me. I'm glad you like long ones.
Lauren: Dude, no worries. You were not pushy at all. I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I'm just sorry my computer decided to crap out in the middle of it. Seriously, what do we need to know about Hamlet? Guy sees ghosts (obviously paranoid schizophrenic) and plans to kill his stepfather (Oedipus anyone?). Done. MacBeth is much cooler.
hurricanerosie: The fighting will end, I promise. I think Lindsay just needs to get away from home base for a while. She's been stuck there for like a month. But next chapter she gets out and about. With Danny no less.
Mnemosyne01: Oh no! Headaches aren't good. I'm sorry! But the fighting ends, I promise. They're both just a little restless and neither is good at dealing with it. I understand the Lent troubles: I gave up snack food for Lent. The past few days have been extremely unhealthy for me.
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A.N. Gonna have the next chapter up before the episode tomorrow night, I promise!