A.N. Ha! I did it! I finished it by my self-proclaimed deadline. A first for me, I think. This chapter is uber long. It was supposed to be short, but I think I'm feeling the lack of DL and I went a bit crazy here. Heh. Whoops.
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It was strange, but when she saw him across the lobby the next day, it didn't feel as if any time had passed. She knew he'd spotted her at the same time and was glad her muscles weren't stiff. Her gait was almost smooth as she crossed the room, shocking considering his eyes were locked on hers the entire way.
As she came to a stop in front of him, they stared at each other expressionlessly. A flicker of movement to her side caught her attention. The doorman was eyeing them, and Lindsay knew they had to leave before he decided to intervene on her behalf.
"Hi," she murmured with what she could feel was a shy smile spreading over her face.
He smiled back down at her. "How ya doin'?"
"You ready?" she asked, letting her eyes flick to the doorman warningly.
His smile deepened into a mischievous smirk. Wondering what he'd done to put the doorman on alert, she eased around Danny and stepped into the sunshine. Slipping her sunglasses down onto her nose, she waited for Danny to step up next to her.
"So, what are we doing?"
"We're having a picnic."
For the first time, she noticed the basket he held in one hand. "A picnic?" she repeated, her eyes darting up to his face.
He shrugged. "You said you wanted to be outside."
"But it's October."
"Point being?" he asked, his eyes dancing behind the tint of his lenses.
She floundered for words but eventually just murmured, "Let's go then."
Grinning, he started leading the way to the corner. She followed, struggling to keep up with his long steps.
Locked so far above the ground, she'd almost forgotten how noisy New York streets were. It was nearly impossible to carry on a conversation between the yelling on the sidewalk and the roar of the cars, but she hadn't seen him in a month so she couldn't keep quiet.
"So, your uncle's going crazy, huh?" he asked, beating her to the conversation opener.
"No, I'm going crazy," she said as they waited for the light to change. "He's just being his usual over-protective self."
"Was he like this last time?" Danny asked as they crossed.
Lindsay waited for the usual panic to set in at his casual mention of Montana, but none came. Bemused, she shrugged and tried to turn her mind back to his question. "Not really. My dad was doing fine in that role by the time Freddy came along, and he's always liked sticking it to my dad. He might have been playing it casual last time just to tick Dad off. They don't get along, you might've noticed."
Danny shifted the basket to his other hand so it wouldn't brush against her as they moved down the path leading into the park. "Maybe a bit."
"Not on their best behavior, huh?" She sighed at his silence. "I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it. Families get tense in stressful situations. The baby of the family being shot? That's a stressful situation."
"Yeah, but they could have waited until you weren't in the room. I swear they usually behave very well around company."
"I sure hope that wasn't their best behavior," he teased.
"Would it help if I said they were raised by wolves?" she asked brightly.
A thrill shot through her when he laughed. She grinned at him, so happy to be with him that she almost forgot to enjoy just being outside. It really did feel as if she'd broken out of a prison. All the colors seemed brighter off the almost clinical whiteness of Freddy's walls.
He turned off the path onto a grassy field so suddenly that she kept going for a couple of steps. He whistled after her to catch her attention as she stumbled to a stop. "Hello. Where ya goin', Montana?"
Rolling her eyes, she stepped onto the grass and watched in fascination as he pulled a blanket out of the basket. She knew she was staring, but she couldn't help it. She never thought she'd see Danny Messer spreading out a picnic for her in Central Park.
The blanket settled against the grass and he placed the basket in the middle before sitting next to it. Easing herself down across from him, Lindsay stripped off her hoodie to enjoy the Indian summer heat.
Danny smiled at her and leaned back on his hands, tipping his face to the sun for a moment. Watching the light glint off his hair, she felt her stomach crumple in fear. Fear that he'd go away again. She knew it was stupid, but the fear was there, clogging her throat, and she knew she needed to ask him why he'd disappeared.
Lindsay fidgeted with the edge of her shirt. "Danny?" she asked quietly, not looking at him. "Why haven't you called?"
Her eyes flicked up in time to see him still, his muscles tensing even in his half-reclined position. Then he slowly let out a breath and straightened a bit. "I was waiting for you to make the first move."
"Ah," she said, dropping her eyes back to her shirt.
"I wasn't sure you wanted to talk to me. I mean, you're in pain and I yelled at you." His voice was low but intense, and she could hear the self-recrimination thick in his tone. Oddly, his accent became more pronounced. "That's the last thing you need right now."
"Even if I deserve it?" she asked evenly, tilting her head to the side and finally meeting his eyes head on.
His face softened. "Lindsay, you didn't deserve it."
"I'm fully aware of what a pain in the ass I've been," she argued, sitting up and folding her legs. "Believe me. Petulance is not an attractive trait, I know."
He seemed to be at a loss for words and she smiled to show she didn't need comforting. "Sometimes I need a kick in the butt. Yelling at me isn't going to break me," she added gently, and his eyes dropped to the basket between them.
"I'll keep that in mind," he murmured, a thread of amusement working its way through his voice.
"You do that."
He grinned at her as she stretched her legs out along the blanket. "So you and Freddy been fighting?" Danny asked abruptly.
"Not really fighting. Bickering, I guess." When he looked at her questioningly, she shrugged. "We've always been more like siblings than uncle and niece. Besides, as we just established, I haven't exactly been fun to be around," she added, shaking her head with a wry smile.
"You mean you're not all sunshine and roses? Gee, I'd never have guessed."
She winced, but the smirk on his face told her he wasn't in attack mode. "I'm sorry. I've been a bit prickly." At his raised eyebrow, she amended, "All right a lot prickly."
He leaned back and crossed his legs at the ankles. "Don't worry about it."
"I'm just…frustrated," she ground out. "It's so boring being locked up in the same rooms all day long for months on end. I feel like I'm going crazy."
"So, how's it feel then?"
She stared at him blankly. "What?"
"Breaking out," he elaborated, gesturing at the trees around them.
She lifted her face to the sun for a few seconds then lowered her head to beam at him. "Wonderful. Thank you for coming."
Grinning back, he locked his eyes with hers and long seconds went by where she felt she could almost breathe easily again. Breaking eye contact, he flipped open the basket and pulled out an apple. "You hungry?"
"No, but you go ahead. I just want to lie here for a second," she told him, straightening her legs back out in front of herself.
Her small converse clad foot lay near his hand, and she noticed his gaze resting on it as he raised the apple and took a bite. Letting her head fall back, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of the sun on her face. It was a hundred times better than being on Freddy's deck.
Slowly, she became aware of the heat of his gaze on her. The silence between them grew thick and hot and she swallowed convulsively. Suddenly she felt self-conscious about the way the hem of her shorts rode up on her thighs and how her shirt stretched across her breasts with her arms pulled back like they were. Despite the discomfort, she couldn't force herself to move.
"I thought you hadn't been outside at all."
Luckily, the sound of his voice broke the paralysis he seemed to have cast on her. Opening her eyes, she frowned, trying to hide the tumultuous emotions running through her. "Well, I've been lying on Freddy's balcony if that counts."
"Ah." He smiled innocently at her as she studied him. "What?"
"Why in the world would you ask that?"
He gestured at her legs. "Tan easily?"
She glanced down at the smooth skin of legs, exposed to the sun by her shorts. "I'm naturally brown," she said primly, raising her eyes back to his.
He leered wolfishly though she couldn't discern the reason. "Are you now?"
"Why do you think Brad and Connor call me Mouse?"
He ignored that and let his eyes trail over her body. The heat in his gaze made her cheeks burn so hotly that she wondered if her entire body was flushed, but she refused to lower her eyes from his face to check.
"Everywhere?" he asked, his gaze finally returning to hers.
Momentarily, the urge to hit him rushed through her. Then let her lips curve into a coy smile. "Maybe."
His eyes widened a bit behind his sunglasses. Victorious, she tipped her face back to the sun and proceeded to ignore him. She heard him mumble something in Italian and then he was rummaging noisily in the basket.
Starting to lean back, she hissed in pain and froze as her stomach cramped. Opening her eyes and placing a hand on her abdomen, she saw Danny jerk forward and smiled ruefully. "I'm okay."
His expression was disbelieving as she took a slightly deeper breath. She forced her sore muscles to relax and smiled at him again. "All right?" he asked quietly.
"Yeah," she murmured, running a hand through her hair.
He watched her for another minute before his chest rose in a controlled breath and he reached back in the basket. "You gotta be hungry by now," he murmured in a carefully mild voice.
"Not really," she told him, eyes locked on his hands as he pulled item after item out. "Jeez, Danny. How much did you pack?"
"After watching you polish off half an extra large pie, I'm not taking any chances."
She laughed at his serious expression. "I'm sorry," she said after her chuckles died down.
His hands stilled and he wrinkled his brow. "For what?"
"I haven't been all that hungry lately," she explained, her hand unconsciously coming back to her stomach.
His eyes followed the movement, his expression inexplicably sad. Dropping his eyes, he went back to unpacking. "Oh. Don't worry about it."
She let her eyes rest on him, trying to memorize the way the sun lit up his skin. She was—embarrassingly enough—fascinated by his legs. She'd never seen him in shorts before, and his calves looked as strong as the rest of him. She blushed when she found herself wishing that men's shorts weren't the length of capris.
"What's with you?" he asked, his voice warm and vaguely amused.
Her eyes jumped up to his face and she bit her lip guiltily. "Huh?"
"You're flushed," he said, having stilled with one hand in the basket. His eyes narrowed as he studied her.
"I'm fine. You know, that looks amazing," she said, pointing at a random object on the blanket. Too late, she noticed it was wrapped in paper.
His eyebrows shot up, and his lips pulled up in a smirk. "Uh-huh." But he let the subject drop and handed the package too her. "Enjoy."
Warily, she pulled back the white paper to find a sandwich. Eyeing it, she grinned in delight. "Joe's?" she asked.
Danny shot her a disappointed glance. "Would I bring you a sandwich from anywhere else?"
Delighted, she quickly bit into a half and moaned. "Dear God that's good," she mumbled when she'd swallowed.
"Looks like it."
Raising her head to look at him, she found him frozen, staring at her. She hurriedly wiped at her mouth with her fingers. "Do I have something on my face?"
"Nah, you're good," he said, dropping his eyes to his own sandwich.
"I can't remember the last time I had Joe's," she told him, gazing at the sandwich in adoration.
"Probably before you were shot."
Glaring at him, she decided to ignore the dry comment. "I think Jen and I went a couple weeks before that."
Sighing, Danny lowered his own sandwich to his lap. "You gonna stare at it all day or eat it?"
"Shut up, Messer," she grumbled, taking a large bite.
He chuckled and handed her a napkin. "I know how you like to be all civilized," he said mockingly.
"Oh, yes. Napkins are so high class." Balling the paper up with one hand, she tossed it at his head.
He gave her a long-suffering look. "That's just gross, Montana."
Rolling her eyes, she busied herself with grabbing another napkin, secretly watching him as he turned his attention to the food. He could be quite single-minded when he wanted. As she watched him neatly decimate the sandwich, she found herself having to stifle a happy sigh.
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"I seriously have to get out of here," Lindsay whispered to the mirror.
Holding onto the edge of the sink, she waited for the nausea to pass. The physical therapist had warned her this would happen if she over-exerted herself. But even as she tried to convince herself it wasn't a big deal, she was overcome with the urge to call her mother.
The idea filled her with disgust. Nearly thirty year old women did not call their mothers when they felt like throwing up. It was a ridiculous idea. All she had to do was get across the room to the bed and she'd be fine. A nap was all she needed.
Her phone was across the room, too. So no matter which course of action she settled on—nap or mother—she needed to get to the bed.
Taking a deep breath, she let go of the sink and immediately felt a wave of dizziness come over her. A knock on the bathroom door had her clutching the sink again.
"Lindsay?" Mrs. C's voice was concerned, but professionally neutral. "Are you all right in there?"
"I'm fine," Lindsay called back, her voice as strong as she could make it.
"Do you need any help?"
"No, no, I'm fine," she repeated. "Just splashing my face with some cold water."
Mentally kicking herself for adding that useless comment, Lindsay closed her eyes and sank to the tiled floor. Freddy needed throw rugs for his bathrooms, his floors were cold as ice all day long.
She knew if she didn't come out soon, Mrs. C would be coming in and there was nothing Lindsay could do to stop her. Frustration made her drop her head back against the pedestal sink. A month of physical therapy and she was no closer to being in her own home.
She had to get out.
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The phone rang just as the movie was getting to the suspenseful climax, and Lindsay nearly fell off the couch. Hurriedly righting herself, she glared at Freddy as he tried—with little success—to hide his laughter.
"Shut up," she said, reaching out a foot to kick him lightly in the side. Curling her legs back underneath her, she flipped open her cell, checking the caller id before pressing it to her ear. "Hey Jen."
"Hey Linds." Jen took a deep breath and held it as if she couldn't bring herself to say the words.
Frowning, Lindsay glanced at Freddy who silently reached over to press pause on the remote. She felt his eyes on the side of her face as she faced forward again. "Jen, is everything okay?"
"Linds…" she started but stopped again.
Lindsay laughed nervously. "Jen, spit it out."
"Danny got hit by a truck. A Mack truck," she clarified nervously, as if she felt Lindsay needed the details.
Lindsay was off the couch before she consciously thought to move. "What?" She felt like she was shrieking, but the word came out in a whisper.
"He's all right," Jen said quickly.
The air itself was squeezing her lungs. "You could've started out with that," she wailed, looking around the room for her shoes.
"He's at Angel of Mercy right now. The truck was going pretty slowly. I think he dislocated a shoulder or something."
"You think?" Suddenly, she remembered that her shoes were in her bedroom. Starting towards the door, she heard Freddy stand from the couch behind her. "These are things you should know before you try and give me a heart attack, Jen."
"You need me to come pick you up?"
"No, I have a ride," Lindsay said. Picking up her shoes, she slipped them on without bothering to change. "You're sure he's at Angel of Mercy?"
"Positive. Call me when you get home, all right?"
"Sure. Jen," she said and heard the other woman made a questioning noise. "Thanks. For calling me."
"No problem. Oh, and don't break any speed limits. He'll be there awhile."
Hanging up, Lindsay tossed the phone behind her on the bed and put her hands on her hips. Freddy was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. "I need your car keys."
"Like hell you do," he said mildly. "What's going on?"
"Danny was hit by a truck. A big one," she expounded, gesturing vaguely in the air.
Straightening off the wall, Freddy dropped his arms and stared at her. "Whoa. Is he okay?"
"He dislocated a shoulder. Or something. Jen wasn't sure." She swallowed the tears in her throat, knowing she'd never get the keys if she lost control. "I need to get to the hospital, Freddy. Please."
Silently, he turned and started down the hall. With a small sob of relief, Lindsay followed him. "Thank you," she said as he picked them up off the hall table.
"I'll drive you," he told her.
"No."
"Lindsay," he began impatiently.
"No, Freddy. There's no way he'd feel comfortable with you there," she argued. Raising her chin, she held out a hand for the keys. "I need to go alone."
His face darkened, turning stubborn, and she smiled humorlessly at him. "Either you give me the keys or I take a cab," she told him quietly. "I'm not a kid anymore, Freddy."
The moment drew out between them then he sighed in defeat. Dropping the keys in her palm, he stepped to the side. "The clutch sticks on second gear," he murmured.
"Thank you." She smiled at him, touching his arm briefly as she passed.
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Tired and aching, Danny moved into the nearly empty hospital hallway behind Mac. Stella was waiting for them with a worried expression and he smiled wanly at her, trying to reassure her he was okay. His shoulder just ached like a son of a bitch.
"How ya feelin'?" Stella asked, reaching over to touch his unbandaged arm.
"Been better," he told her dryly.
The sling did little to keep his arm from hurting and was making his neck itch uncontrollably. Every time he moved his head, the fabric scratched at his skin.
"You on anything?" Stella asked.
"Tylenol." He tried to shrug and immediately winced. Muttering swear words in Italian, he held himself tensely, trying to breathe through the pain.
After it had faded to a dull throb, he lifted his good hand and shoved his glasses up his nose. Raising his eyes, he started to ask Mac for that ride when movement down the hall caught his eye.
Lindsay was coming around the corner from one of the side hallways. She was holding herself stiffly, and Danny wondered if she was aching today like he was. Then her eyes met his and something inside him relaxed a fraction.
At the sight of him, she paused and her face cleared. When she started towards him again, her steps were less tense.
He thought she'd stop when she reached the group. But she didn't seem to notice Stella and Mac as she stepped directly up to him. Only a few inches separated them and she wasn't talking, just staring at him.
"Fancy meetin' you here," he said, trying to sound careless.
Her lips curved upwards, not enough for a smile, just enough for him to notice. "I heard you took on a Mack Truck."
"Yeah. You should see the truck."
The smile still didn't reach her eyes, and Danny let his own fall off his face. She swallowed. "You need a ride? I have Freddy's Mustang."
His face must have lit up because she chuckled a bit. "Thought you might like that."
"You know me too well, Montana."
Fear suffused him as she winced a little. Something was wrong. He'd been out jumping in front of trucks and something was wrong. She covered her reaction quickly, turning to go.
"Lindsay—" he started, his tone gentle and soothing.
He nearly jerked away in surprise as she whirled back around. She raised wide, haunted eyes to his face, tears threatening to spill over. As he stared back at her questioningly, she came across the few inches between them, rising on her toes. He didn't move as her cool hand cupped his cheek. When her lips pressed against the other side of his face, lingering there for a long moment, he was sure he'd stopped breathing.
Pulling away and lowering back to her usual height, Lindsay left her hand against his face for a few extra seconds and gazed at him. As she backed away entirely, Danny was sure he'd never breathe quite the same again without her body invading his personal space.
Even wearing yoga pants and an old U of M sweatshirt, hair flung into a messy ponytail, she was beautiful. And he gaped at her, unable to think or do anything coherent. She must have noticed his awed expression because her lips eased into a sly smile that made him want to kneel in front of her and beg; for what, he wasn't sure. Then she was turning away and he stood stock still trying to process the last minute of his life.
She'd gone a few steps down the hall before she realized he wasn't following. Glancing back, she smiled tremulously at him. "Shake a tail feather, cowboy."
Spurred into action, he took his jacket from Mac, whose expression was a little too neutral and nodded at his bosses. When he caught up, she smiled at him again, still looking rough around the edges.
They wandered from the hospital silently, both of them sadly familiar with the identical hallways stretching in front of and behind them. He grimaced once in the elevator after accidentally shifting his arm in the sling. She shot him a sharp glance, fraught with worry and he tried to smooth the pain from his expression.
"You're an idiot," she muttered, facing the metal doors again.
Instead of being insulted, he just sighed and nodded. "Probably."
When the doors opened to reveal the parking garage, Lindsay led the way to the bright red convertible. Danny felt his mouth drop open. He didn't think he'd ever seen a car this beautiful.
While he was busy drooling, Lindsay, at least, remembered the proper function of such an object and opened the door for him. He slid inside, checking out the interior with admiration. He barely noticed when Lindsay pulled open the driver's side door and slid into her seat.
"This is the most beautiful car in the world," Danny said seriously, his eyes still cataloguing the gadgets on the dash.
Lindsay sighed. "You're an idiot," she repeated, but there was no heat in her voice, only amusement. So, Danny shot her a wicked grin, adoring the blush that stained her cheeks.
"Where am I taking you?" she asked quickly, igniting the engine.
His brow furrowed in confusion. "Home."
Turning the engine back off, she swiveled in her seat. "You can't go home," she told him, the scowl on her face brooking no argument.
"Why not?" he asked, honestly confused.
She gestured with increasing violence. "Because you dislocated a shoulder. Your arm's in a sling. You're not exactly in a position to take care of yourself."
Raising an eyebrow, Danny settled himself back against the door so he could watch her. "Tonight, taking care of myself includes opening my door, locking it and falling into bed. How am I incapable of that?"
She floundered for a minute then stilled. Letting her eyes fall shut, she raised a hand to her temple. "I'm sorry," she whispered, turning away from him to rest her forehead against the steering wheel. "I don't know what's wrong with me."
Warmth spread through Danny's chest, making him even more uncomfortable as his stomach began to tingle. "You're turning into Freddy, that's what. Is it some sort of Monroe trait I should be aware of?"
She shot him a begrudgingly amused glance. "And at the full moon we turn into wolves."
"That's kinda hot," he teased, a half-grin tugging at his lips.
She laughed as she backed the car out of the space. "You're an odd man, Danny."
"I like to think of myself as unique."
He leaned his head back against the seat, wanting to enjoy both the car ride and the rare moments with her, but too tired to think of anything else to say. It seemed like only a few minutes later when she pulled to a stop outside his building.
"You okay from here?" she asked quietly as he straightened his glasses.
He knew the look on his face was soft, too soft for him, but found he couldn't look away from the concern in her eyes. Suddenly, he was overwhelmed with the need to pull her to him, to demand she come up with him. But she still had a hole in her side and now he had an arm in a sling.
Fate was cruel.
"I'll be fine," he said simply, opening his door.
He paused before stepping out and did the only thing he could do. Reaching out, he picked a hand up off the wheel and turned it over to press a kiss to her palm. "Thanks for coming," he murmured, his eyes watching her pupils dilate at the contact.
"You're welcome," she whispered back.
His grin was sly and he slipped out of the car without looking back. Once he was in his apartment, he walked to the window and glanced down at the street, but she'd long since pulled away.
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"And Danny hasn't been here at all?" Jen asked, biting into a cookie.
"Nope," Lindsay said, concentrating on spooning batter onto the baking sheet.
"Why not?"
"I don't know. It just seemed weird to invite him over when I couldn't even get out of bed without help."
"But he saw you that way in the hospital," Jen pointed out, moving around to the refrigerator. "Milk?"
"No thanks. I know he did. But it's different to have him come here and do that."
"Why?"
"You don't invite someone over to sit around and watch you lie prone on the bed."
"That's a stupid reason," Jen said candidly. "He would have been perfectly happy to do that."
Lindsay sighed and carried the baking sheet to the oven. "I know. But I wouldn't have been happy with it."
"Well what about now? You're up and about, baking even." Jen grinned as she pulled a glass out of the cabinet.
"Yeah, but now he's down for the count," Lindsay said. "He's still on painkillers for the shoulder and various bruising."
"Aw. Maybe you could kiss it better."
Glaring at her so-called best friend, Lindsay pulled out another baking sheet and lined it with parchment. "No, I could not. I'm not going to kiss his stomach before I kiss him."
Realizing what she'd just said, Lindsay snapped her mouth shut. Jen peered at her as she put the milk away. "Are you blushing?"
Scoffing, Lindsay turned away. "No," she protested.
"Right," Jen drawled, shutting the fridge and moving back to the cookies. "These are really good, by the way."
Lindsay smiled, slightly embarrassed. "Feel free to take some with you. I spent yesterday making muffins and a pie."
Pausing with the cookie halfway to her mouth, Jen stared at her. "Have you been doing anything besides baking?"
"Not really," she said with a sigh. At Jen's expression, she shrugged. "I've exhausted every other option. I've watched every movie Freddy owns and Netflix is only so fast. I'm not all that interested in reading more books about traversing the Sudan or climbing Everest. And Freddy would flip if I left the apartment."
"But you did leave the apartment," Jen argued, lowering her voice to a whisper.
"Yeah," Lindsay hissed back, glancing at the hallway to make sure Freddy wouldn't appear suddenly. Or Mrs. C. She was beginning to get the feeling Mrs. C reported back to Freddy at the end of the day.
Or maybe she was getting paranoid.
"Because I snuck out while he was in a meeting. I barely made it back before he did last time," she said, setting her scoop back in the bowl. "Way too stressful."
Jen made a face. "You really are in prison."
"Tell me about it," Lindsay grumbled, reaching over to snatch up one of the warm cookies. "But I have a plan."
"Do tell." Raising an eyebrow in interest, Jen offered Lindsay her glass of milk and waited patiently as she swallowed a sip.
"My doctor's appointment is next week, right? So, I'm going to ask the doctor if it's okay for me to go home now. I mean, it's not like I'm really suffering anymore." She gestured down at her own body and handed the glass back. "I can feed myself, wash myself, clothe myself. Why can't I go back to my own apartment?"
Nodding, Jen watched her over the rim of the milk glass. Lindsay looked nervously back at the hallway. "If the doctor says it's okay, Freddy has to let me go back, right?"
Jen choked on her milk. Coughing, she held up a hand as Lindsay jerked forward to help her. "How in the world would he stop you?" she asked when she'd caught her breath. "You're a grown woman for Christ's sake."
Lindsay gave her a sad, defeated look. "He'd call my mother."
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Jerking awake, Lindsay clutched at the blankets, panting with fear. The pain in her side was barely noticeable as her mind flashed back through the nightmare. Always the same one.
Panting, she shivered as the sweat trickled on her back, already cooling in the breeze from her open window. She closed her eyes and pressed a hand to her face as her breaths began to slow. When her heart stopped pounding with fear, she lay back in the bed.
Her phone glowed slightly in the dark room, catching her eye, and she bit her lip, debating. It was late, tomorrow was a work day. Reaching out anyway, she hit her speed dial and listened to it ring in her ear. Once, twice, three time. Then she heard a click and a fumbling sound over the line.
"Yeah?" came the gravelly voice.
"Danny?"
"Lindsay? That you?" Rustling filled the phone and she knew he was sitting up in bed.
"Yeah, it's me. Sorry for calling so late."
"No prob," he said with a yawn. "What's up?"
She was never quite sure what prompted her to say what she did next. It was late and she was tired. Or maybe she was just tired of trying not to ssay things like this to him.
"I just needed to hear your voice."
As soon as the words crossed her lips Lindsay's eyes widened in the darkness. She couldn't take it back, so she lay there, staring at the ceiling, wating for any sort of response.
"Bad dream?" he asked quietly.
"Yeah. Kinda." Her breath came out in a shaky burst of air.
"You want me to say anything in particular?"
His voice didn't sound scared or distant from her clinginess, just more gentle. She turned on her side so she wouldn't have to hold the phone against her ear. "Not really. Anything."
"I went out with Flack tonight," he told her. "Sullivan's. Angell was there for about a second and a half."
"Why'd she leave so fast?" Lindsay asked, snuggling down into her pillow.
"Dunno. She didn't come over or nothin'."
"Huh." Her muscles were finally starting to relax after the anxiety and fear of her dream.
"You two still hangin'?"
"Women don't hang, Danny. That's a guy thing."
"Oh really," he said dryly. "And what do you do?"
"We chill," she told him, purposely making her voice sound pedantic. She reveled in the quiet laugh on the other end of the line. "And, yes, Jen came over a few days ago."
"What did you two do?"
Lindsay thought for a minute. "Just sat around talking mostly. I baked cookies."
"Didn't you just make muffins? And a pie or something?" he asked. She heard him shifting on the bed.
"Yeah. I bake a lot when I'm bored. Or upset. Either one."
"You upset?"
"What?" she muttered, distracted by thoughts of him just on the other side of the line. "No. Bored out of my mind."
"Well, we'll have to do something about that." His voice was smooth, and she was sure he had practice sounding so seductive.
She wished she could see him, warm from sleep. She squeezed her eyes shut despite the dark and tried to picture him.
"Lindsay?"
"Yeah?" she asked quickly to cover the fact that she hadn't heard his question.
"I asked what you were doing tomorrow night."
She sighed. "My uncle's having a dinner party. I have to play hostess."
"You sound so excited about that," he informed her, obviously amused by her pain.
"Yeah, well, I've gone to these things before. It's boring. A lot of superficial sycophants who keep calling me Leslie and try to get as close to Freddy as possible."
"Sounds nice."
She snorted. "Yeah. My uncle only throws these things for people who donate to the magazine." She paused, forcing herself not to go into another rant on how he'd changed. "Do you want to come?"
She kept speaking, cutting off any reply he might have made. "I know I've painted a great picture, but the food's usually heavenly."
"You uncle wouldn't mind a sudden addition?"
"Not at all," she assured him, her heart pounding again. Pleasantly.
"What time should I show?"
Her smile was uncontrollable. "Eight sound good?"
"I don't get off til seven," he told her, regret in his tone.
"Oh, that's fine," she protested quickly. "It's a lot of mingling for an hour or so anyway."
"Okay then."
"Okay then," she repeated in a murmur, wishing she could jump up and dance.
Danny was quiet for a moment then cleared his throat. "Hey, I thought you said your uncle didn't throw dinner parties."
Groaning softly, she let her eyes fall shut again. "Don't get me started," she mumbled bitterly.
"Right then," he said brightly. "New subject."
She giggled, trying to ease the phone away from her mouth so it wouldn't be obnoxiously loud in his ear. "You should get some sleep," she said when she'd calmed down.
"So should you. Think you can now?"
She thought for a moment, but any residual fear had dissipated. The only thing left in its place was the usual underlying fretfulness the dreams brought. "Yeah, I think so."
"Call me again if you need to," he murmured, and she smiled. He was already half asleep.
"Okay. Good night, Danny." The silent thank you rang loudly in her ears, but she couldn't force it past her lips. It made the situation feel too formal. She refused to degrade what he'd done for her that way. They were past all that.
"Night, Montana."
She giggled again at the grogginess in his voice. "Night."
After a few seconds, he chuckled sleepily over the line. "Hang up."
"Right. Sorry."
Dropping the closed phone, she covered her face with her hands and groaned. She really was on idiot sometimes.
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chili-peppers: I hope you liked the face to face bits here. They're so cute together. Even more cuteness next chapter!
alicia5: Freddy's not as bad as he's been coming across, I swear. I think the fact that it's all from Lindsay's perspective is the reason he seems so awful most of the time. I really never meant to write him as a bad guy; they just bicker a lot. (And I think if Lindsay could lift her own luggage she totally would have moved out by now; she is definitely not happy with him. : p)
qt4good: You're right. Lindsay is not one to sit back and relax, hence her escape from prison. Lots of cute little moments in this chapter and definitely more in the next!
Tenley: The Great Escape went off without a hitch! Freddy isn't the wiser. I hope Danny's explanation made the time they didn't talk seem less drastic. He's a sweet man, really. Freddy is weirdly cryptic, isn't he? I blame the fact that he generally spends 8 or 9 months of the year away from civilization. He forgets how to communicate. : p
serenity2blliss: I think Freddy letting Lindsay take the car in this chapter was a sign that he's loosening the tethers a bit. He really has had her locked up in that apartment. I don't think Lindsay's going to stand for it much longer.
berta101: I hope you got to say "aw" in this chapter! I know I did when I was writing it. I'm a total fluff bunny sometimes. Hehe.
Lauren: Jen and Lindsay are such an interesting pair. Lindsay's soft with a core of steel, whereas Jen acts tough as nails but really is a bit of a teddy bear. They definitely balance each other out. And I think once Lindsay starts getting out more (and seeing Danny again) she'll start acting like her old self again.
Devilla: Kissing is in the near future. This story is almost finished, just a few more chapters left. Freddy's situation is pretty complicated and about to get more so. (Sorry, Freddy.) But I think, for room's sake, I'll push that sub-plot into the last story of this trilogy.
The Little Corinthian: If they don't work together tonight, I'll join you in that TPing. I've got some nice Quilted Northern that really sticks to wood when wet. Luckily, Danny and Lindsay are no longer fighting. Though it still surprises me that it took Lindsay a week to think "Hey, maybe he's mad at me" even though he wasn't. Okay, maybe she's smarter than I thought.
Leena7: How was the Danny action in this chapter? There hasn't really been a perspective shift since Lindsay woke up, you're right. I'm not sure if I'll include any more in the next few chapters, but I'll try and throw a few more in.
ReJo: Danny was letting her have space, thinking he'd mistreated her somehow, so having her call finally must have been a major relief. I don't think he even thought to be mad about the silence. Besides…she didn't really give him a chance to participate in the phone conversation. : p
messermonroe: This chapter was super long, but lots of Danny and Lindsay face time, eh? Nice, right? Better, there's more in the next chapter!
karakamas: I actually meant to address that Danny and Lindsay hadn't seen each other earlier than this chapter, but somehow it never fit into the chapters. Mostly, it's the fact that Lindsay felt awkward being so helpless. It was one thing in the hospital where everyone was coming and going and he always stopped by on lunch or dinner breaks. But having him sit there bored in Freddy's apartment was another thing to her. Like she told Jen, it was stupid, but sometimes Lindsay's a little insecure. It helped that Danny didn't know where her uncle lived, I guess. Otherwise he would have shown up on her doorstep.
Nikkilou: Hehe. I'm glad you're hooked. I hope you liked this chapter. I kinda went a little crazy after having DL apart for so long.
Marue61: Oh, I'm pretty sure she resorted to those romance novels a few weeks ago, but Jen might be her supplier now. Who knows?
Murgy31: Aw thanks! I hope you liked this chapter as much as the others.
Od: I hope the conversation between Danny and Lindsay explained his behavior a bit. He just felt like he'd treated her badly and didn't know how to fix it, especially if she was mad at him. He's so adorable.
seren23: Jen has some of the best quips. I don't know why, but I can come up with much funnier lines for her and Flack than the rest of the other characters.
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A.N. I'm so looking forward to the new episode tonight. I can't wait! Is it time yet?...How bout now?