Title: Love Too Young

Rating: FRT
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Just the idea.
Spoilers: None
Summary: What if Danny and Lindsay knew each other in high school? What if Lindsay lived in New York and moved away? This is WAY OUT THERE so be nice.

Again, sorry for the delay, but I plan of updating more frequently now. I have the whole thing written now, so life is good.

Personally, this was the easiest chapter to write, and I'm rather proud of it.

As luck would have it, Hawkes had managed to match the striations of the Desert Eagle found in the alley, to the shell casings and bullet pulled from Perkins' body. While running the gun through the Gun Registration Database, a match came to one Mike Quinn, a retired Army Sergeant, now Auto mechanic. He would have access to a gun, Mac pointed out, as he too had developed a bond with his rifle and pistol while in Beirut.

When Flack and Mac had gone to question Mr. Quinn, he had insisted that yes, he owned a gun, but no, he didn't kill anyone with it. Only when he offered to show them the gun, did things get interesting. The gun, which should have been in a locked drawer of Mr. Quinn's desk in the shop's office, had gone missing. What a coincidence. While Flack asked further questions, Mac examined the drawer, to find pry bar dents and scratched metal. The gun had been stolen.

Back in the conference room, Danny had walked over to where Lindsay stood. He was about to bend down to pick up the broken China, when out of the corner of his eye he saw her figure slowly descending to the floor. He reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist to prevent her fall.

"Whoa! I gotcha." Lindsay clung onto his arms while he led her to a sofa. After he sat her down, he went to the cup and coffee on the floor and cleaned it up. Lindsay, all the while, sat staring blankly at a coffee table. Too shocked to say anything, and too frightened to stand.

Danny came over and sat on the other sofa across from her. After minutes of silence, he spoke.

"How are you, Lindsay?"

She didn't respond. She just continued to stare at the table.

"Lindsay?" Still no response.

Danny got up from the sofa and moved to sit on the one she was on. Reaching out, he used his finger to tilt her chin so she faced him.

Blue eyes, met brown.

This seemed to snap Lindsay out of the funk she was in.

"Uh, what?" she seemed disoriented.

"How are you?" Danny knew his presence would have been a shock, but he hadn't expected this amount of unsettlement.

"Oh, um, I'm good." She stuttered. This seemed to be a common occurrence lately.

"Are you sure?" Still after sixteen years, Danny could read when she wasn't well. She was confused, frightened, and unsure.

And without knowing why, the flood started. She began to shake uncontrollably and brought her hands up to cover her face.

Danny had never expected her to cry. He wasn't prepared for this. What was he to do? It seems he didn't have to think about that, when his arm instinctively wrapped around her shoulder and pulled her to his chest.

"Shhh… it's okay…" he mumbled into her hair as he rubbed her back.

"I'm... so sorry... Danny." She muffled into his chest.

"I know…I know…" The part of him that wanted to yell at her and be angry with her had left when she broke down. He hated seeing her upset. Even back then, he always wanted to take away her pain.

"I just didn't know what to do…I was afraid… angry… unprepared…" Danny rocked her back and forth as she started the conversation both of them had been dreading.

"I was afraid of what people would say… what you'd say… I was afraid to be a parent… I couldn't face anyone…I wasn't ready…I…"

"Lindsay!" A short hour ago, Danny had wanted to see her so bad. To hold her. Touch her. Kiss her. Yet as much as his body enjoyed having her in his arms, he knew the questions had to be asked. Danny didn't want babble, he wanted straight answers. And he wasn't going to get them with her spieling off random things. Pulling himself from her, he stood up and moved to the window.

"Was that why you left?" Danny decided to take control of the conversation. He often did in High School. Lindsay's tears had subsided and she knew this.

"Yes." She nodded her head, but didn't look at him.

"Why?"

"We were eighteen. And I was afraid what you'd say."

"What, you didn't think I would be a good father? Was I too rebellious, like your parents said? Did you not like me anymore? Was it me? Of course it was. I was just the one who slept with you! I got you pregnant!" Sarcasm evident. Danny was started to get mad. And Lindsay silence wasn't helping.

"What was it Lindsay? Was I not good enough to father your child? Was I such a despicable person that I wouldn't take responsibility? Was I that shallow that I would just sleep with you and leave when things got tough?"

"I…" Lindsay didn't have answers for his questions.

"You what!" It was nice to see Danny's temper hadn't changed since High School.

Lindsay had enough.

"We were eighteen! What were we supposed to do? I'd have to drop university, find a job and be baby sitter for the rest of my life." Lindsay stood up. "I had my whole life ahead of me. I was a kid, how was I going to raise one all by myself while you were at college?" Even in High School Lindsay was always the one to put Danny in line. When everybody backed down, she stood firm.

"I would have stood by you! I not that type of man! You would have known that if you asked!

"How was I supposed to know that? We were dating for five months! Or did you want me to mind read!" By know what was a civil conversation had now turned into a yelling match.

"Come on Lindsay!" Danny said exasperatedly. "We spent every waking minute together. Almost every day of the week we had a date. We slept together. I don't just jump in bed with the first person I cross!"

"I hadn't expected you to ever find out. I was going to live my life knowing and you were going to go on, none the wiser!"

"Well your plan almost worked. I mean, imagine my surprise when Mac told me the scene I was working on was the murder of my son! One I didn't even know I had!"

The mention of their son's murder, brought things back into perspective. She was here to fill out some paperwork and sign some documents. Not to discuss her past feelings of a man she hadn't seen in ages.

"How did he die?" Lindsay anger was clouding her ability to feel sorrow for the child she remembered secretly calling Daniel.

"Oh, no. I'm not done yet." Danny still had questions. And she hadn't answered half of the ones he had already asked.

"I'm here because Detective Taylor wanted me to sign some papers. Not to talk to you."

"Well too bad. They are one in the same. I work for Mac. You're going to have to deal with me."

Lindsay turned to the door. "I'm not dealing with you Danny!" She opened the door, and before walking out turned to face him. "I never want to see you again!" And with that, she disappeared from view with the door slamming and tears streaming down her cheeks.

"You seem to be good at that!" Danny yelled when she left.

In anger, Danny punched the wall with all the force he could muster. A moment later he slid to the floor as a wave of emotion hit him. Silent sobs wracked his body as he took off his glasses and buried his face in his hands.

Finally he was able to feel the pain.

Author's Note: I hope that went ok. I've been told I'm good at angst, but I wasn't sure if the argument worked.