Chapter 2: Yours, Montana

After his shift was over, Danny dialed Lindsay's number as he walked down the lab's steps to the street. In her apartment Lindsay looked at her cell phone as it rang. Caller ID told her it was Danny. She wasn't surprised, but she was in some way relieved. She thought about letting it go to voicemail, but he deserved better than that.

"Hi Danny" she spoke softly into the phone.

"Hey kiddo, how ya doin?" Despite all that swirled in her mind, she couldn't help but smile at his tenderness and at the tingle in her midsection caused by just the sound of his voice.

"I'm OK Danny really. I'm sorry I left in a hurry." She absently twirled a strand of her hair around her finger.

"Don't worry about it. I just wanted to check on you." He paused at the subway entrance, trying to determine which line to board. "Ya feel like company?"

Inwardly she sighed although she tried not to make it audible over the phone.

"I don't think I'd be good company tonight. I have to take care of some things."

He closed his eyes and ran his hand through hair. He knew she did, and he was afraid of what those things might be. He didn't want her to do them alone. He feared she was being blackmailed or threatened and he wanted to be near her if for no other reason than to assure himself she was safe. He had already laid it all on the line for her so he figured he may as well continue going for broke.

"Lindsay, I am worried about you, and I want to help you. Please let me." His tones were measured and calm. Normally, as exasperated as he was, he might raise his voice, bring out his Staten Island. But with her, he wanted to be her calm and refuge in whatever storm she was weathering.

"Danny." She whispered and paused. She knew she couldn't explain to him how he touched her. "I didn't mean to worry you. I should have been more considerate about what you must have been thinking when I left. I am really okay. I promise. Right now, there's nothing you can do to help. I have to do this by myself." She bit the corner of her lip before she continued. "But thank you. I do appreciate it, even if I don't seem to Danny. It does mean a lot to me. You mean a lot to me." The last sentence came out before she could stop it. It was the truth, but she didn't mean for him to hear it. She was trying to keep him at arms length, but she was failing.

"Arrgggggg. Montana." He didn't know how to respond so all he could do was growl into the phone. "Listen, I'm off now. I'm going home. You need anything, you want to talk, just gimme a call ok?"

"Ok I will. Thank you. Bye."

"Bye."

Lindsay poured a cup of coffee from the pot she had just made. She sat on her couch with her laptop in front of her staring at the blinking cursor taunting her from the blank document she had open. She knew she had to tackle this immediately or it would eat at her.

Around 1am Danny was still tossing and turning in his bed when he heard shuffling near his front door. Out of instinct, he found his gun in the darkness and checked the peep hole. When he saw no one there he opened the door to check the hall. When again he saw nothing he shut his door and felt something beneath his foot. He turned on the light and saw a white envelope with his name written in familiar handwriting across the front.

He opened the flap and found several sheets of paper. Most were typed but the top one was hand-written in Lindsay's elegant scrawl. He knew it from so many case notes and he could tell that the letter before him was not written with the same haste he usually saw. It was carefully and slowly put to paper.

Danny,

I was asked to write a letter to a parole board to keep a murderer behind bars. I owe it to the families of the victims to do as I was asked, and I did try. But I think what I wrote was not to a board of strangers determining someone else's fate. I think it was to you. Its an explanation. A warning that I am damaged, and why trust is something I do not think I am capable of anymore. A warning that intimacy is a frightening and now foreign word for me. It is my baggage. I fear it will frighten you, but not sharing it with you is already keeping us apart.

I don't know what else to do anymore but offer this to you. I wish I could be the person I was before. I think you would have liked her. But I am now, just what I am. I don't know how to be any different, and I don't know how else to try to let you in.

Yours,

- Montana

He ran his thumb over the word "yours." He sighed deeply. He felt a weight settle on his shoulders and chest. This is what he wanted. He was waiting for her to open up to him, but he expected she would be before him when she did. He didn't expect her to leave him to learn her secrets in solitude. He thought he would do so when she was within reach and he would be able to wipe away her tears and hold her in his arms. But this was his Montana, she was stubborn and independent. She would want him to get the information separate from her emotions. She would want him to know and to decide if he thought it was all something he could bear. He knew what she was letting him decide was if she was worth it. If whatever the contents of this letter revealed put him off, she was going to let it without making him have to realize it while looking in her eyes.

He sat down on his couch with her letter in his hands. He almost didn't want to read it any longer. He almost wished he hadn't pushed her. He almost wished she could be the "before" woman even she wanted to be. He swallowed hard and turned to the type-written pages.