At long last, the conclusion. :) Thanks for much for your patience in reading, and your uplifting comments when I really needed them. My muse and I are going to attend couples counseling, but hopefully I'll be back with more DL fic someday soon.
1 Year Later
"We're disgusting, do you know that?"
Lindsay smiled at Danny over her mug of scalding-hot coffee, waiting for a response to the question she had just posed. They were the classic picture of blissful romance: seated at opposite sides of a tiny table in a café, each cradling a cup of java in one hand, other hands clasped as they gazed intently into each others' eyes. This little hideaway around the corner from the lab had become their morning ritual, as a way to start the day on a sweet note.
"What do you mean, disgusting?" Danny asked with a surprised laugh.
Lindsay shrugged, smiling. "Well, you know. We've become one of those couples. The kind that everyone loves to hate because they get all mushy in public and stuff. The ones that make you want to lose your lunch because they can't keep their hands off each other."
Danny smirked, leaning over the table to plant a delicate, yet suggestive, kiss on her cheek. "Then I guess we are pretty gross, huh?"
As if on cue, an elderly woman nearby turned up her nose, studied her croissant with sudden distaste, and shifted to face the opposite direction. Lindsay ducked her head sheepishly, then took notice of the cover of the New York Times that lay between herself and Danny. It wasn't the blaring headlines that caught her attention, but rather, the date stamped in the upper corner. It had been exactly one year since she left for Montana, and had left the tape in Danny's locker.
"I can't believe it's been a whole year," she mused, testing the temperature of her coffee with a tentative fingertip. "A whole year since everything between us changed."
"Everything did change… for the better," Danny pointed out, his grip on her hand suddenly tighter.
"For the best," she corrected softly.
It was ironic how spending an entire month apart had only managed to bring them closer. She would forever remember the past eleven months with fondness. Since their relationship had already seen enough angst to last a lifetime, their dates were kept unusual and fun - everything from fishing to a petting zoo. Pottery class, though, hadn't gone so well. As Lindsay watched Danny's strong hands kneading, shaping and molding the wet clay, the muscles in his arms flexing, she lost her composure, disfiguring her own creation. Then there was the dinner she cooked for him, the main dish being moose burgers. She did not confess this ingredient until after he had taken a bite. As Danny ran to the sink, spewing and cursing, Lindsay struggled to halt the helpless laughter that shook her. She related many of these stories via email to Susan, who had come to be a true friend since their timely meeting on the plane.
Now here they were, with nearly a year of such memories behind them already. They had fallen into the comfortable, steady pace of a romance that is not quite new, but still fresh with excitement. Their future looked bright—including a spring trip to Montana for some hiking and sightseeing. Lindsay felt that it was the least she could do, to show Danny the country. After all, he had shown her the world.
"I have something for you," he announced suddenly, bringing her out of her fantasy and back to the buzzing coffee shop.
As Danny dug in his coat pocket, she raised an eyebrow curiously, the corners up her mouth twitching upwards in an amused grin. What does he have up his sleeve now? She wondered.
"Close your eyes," he commanded, and she instantly obeyed, not daring to peek. "Now, hold out your hand."
Lindsay grimaced, hesitating this time. "This had better not be a prank, Messer," she warned.
"Come on, come on, just trust me," he prodded, chuckling. Reluctantly, Lindsay put forth her outstretched hand and waited.
"Here it is," he announced, and she heard a jingling sound. Her palm was filled with the sensation of cold metal beads, like a handful of dirt that threatened to spill if she separated her fingers.
"What the?..." she marveled.
"Okay, open your eyes."
Lindsay looked down to see a familiar chain her grasp. "Dog tags," she said, smiling. "Just like yours."
"Not quite," Danny said. "Read it."
Lindsay held up the flat, oblong tag, and noticed that the bumpy imprinted text was not a name or a date, but actually a quote:
"Time is too slow for those who wait… but for those who love, time is eternity."
After reading and re-reading the quote, she felt her cheeks flush with sentiment. "Danny," she breathed, "this is so sweet. It's beautiful."
He took the opportunity to launch into an explanation of his plan to give her his own dog tags when she left for Montana the year before. "But I didn't get to you in time," he added sadly. "I really wanted to give you something to help you stay strong."
"But you did," she assured him, slipping the chain over her neck and tucking it safely beneath her blouse. "I felt you there with me the whole time. You were my rock."
Danny shook his head, toying with an empty sugar packet as he spoke. "You did it all by yourself. You're a hero to those families. Hell, you're a hero to me." They grew silent, the bustling of people around them filling the gap in the conversation.
"Thank you… for that. And for this," Lindsay nodded toward the necklace, then scooted her chair around the table so that she was next to him. "I hope you don't find my way of saying 'thank you' too disgusting."
Danny winked, knowing what was coming. "Disgust me, baby," he murmured, just before their lips met. As was usual when Lindsay kissed Danny, she became lost to reality, seconds slipping dangerously away to minutes. When they at last parted, no doubt to the relief of other patrons, Danny glanced at his watch and sighed. "I guess we should be going," he grumbled. They stood, disposing of garbage and shrugging on coats, then headed towards the exit where the blustery New York morning that was awaiting them.
"I could have just stayed here all morning," Lindsay noted wistfully. "Time just gets in the way."
"Hey, it was never an obstacle for us," Danny pointed out, holding open the door for her.
Arm in arm, they stepped out onto the sidewalk, the morning sun shining brightly against their backs.