Authors Note: Here is chapter 2 from my first fanfic ever. Many warm and delicious D/L moments. I have many more chapters waiting in the wings already written so if you like this one let me know. Spoilers for "Not What It Looks Like"

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own any of these characters. They belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. Any resemblance to scenes from the episodes is included for clarity and continuity and I do not claim any of those as my own work. However everything else is mine.

Lindsay's Apartment

Lindsay gingerly stepped out of the SUV and Danny closed the door behind her.

"You know Danny, I can get it from here," as she approached the front door of her building and rummaged through her bag for her keys. When her hand shook as she tried to get the key in the door he took them gently from her and spoke for the first time since they had gotten out of the SUV.

"You know Montana, I better walk you up, you seem a little jittery," his accent thick again and his tone playful. She smiled to herself. This was the Danny who could always lighten the mood and keep her mind off her 'dark thoughts' as she called them. So many times she had looked forward to work more than usual because he was going to be there to tease her and joke with her, say some outlandish thing to make her smile to herself. He really did brighten her day and more often than not she could hold her own with him in her quiet Midwestern manner. Secretly she thought he kind of enjoyed it, at least she hoped he did; she knew she did.

He unlocked the apartment door and held it open while she ducked under his arm and he followed her in. She heard him drop the keys on the table by the door. She threw her jacket and purse over a chair and collapsed on the couch.

"Can I get you anything?" he said looking intently at her.

"Water from the fridge," she said remembering her parched throat.

She heard the refrigerator door open and close and then cabinet doors opening and closing.

"Messer, what are you doing in there?" He was just being downright nosey and she was going to call him on it.

"Montana, where is your food? I'm hungry." Danny groaned

"Hello Danny… New York City… Takeout capital of the U.S.," she retorted back.

Danny chuckled to himself, the woman did have a point but that didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun with her, you know lighten the mood a bit; keep her thoughts off the events of the days. It was after all one of his favorite pastimes these days – riling her up.

"Montana, how does that work?" he asked as he handed her the bottle of water and sat on the coffee table across the couch from her.

"I mean a woman who's stellar in the lab but can't cook in the kitchen," as he trained one eye on her and took a swig from his water bottle.

"Messer, I can cook as well as the next gal or guy," she said emphasizing guy and looking pointedly at him, "but I'm busy and I don't like to cook for one person anyhow."

He could hear the strain in her voice and realized she was probably beat so he halted it there and just said, "Well why don't you hop into the shower and I'll get us some takeout."

"Okay, the menus are on the counter by the fridge."

"Do you have any preferences?"

"Surprise me," she called over her shoulder as she took herself off to the bathroom.

"Ooookaaaay." Danny chuckled to himself.

As he looked at the menus on the fridge, nothing appealed to him tonight except Italian and she didn't have a menu for that. What is wrong with this woman – no Italian takeout menu? He'd have to remedy this. He scribbled a quick note, grabbed her keys, locked up and headed out.