A/N: Tremendous thanks to MariaLisa for coherency and flow control and just general hand holding. Lots of love!
Rated M for language and some bodily contact.
DISCLAIMERS: The CSI:NY characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. However everything else is mine.
Can Love Conquer All?
Love perceived
Neither bought nor sold
Only given and received
Yet solidly denied
-Sally Jetson
She threw back two Advil and gulped from a bottle of ice cold water but she knew that it wouldn't dull the throb lurking behind her eyes and gripping the back of her neck. She was only going through the motions in an attempt to calm herself. She was completely drained from the events of the past twenty-four hours, from lack of sleep and from frantic worrying.
Where is he?
She hadn't seen nor heard from him since he had stormed out of the hospital over five hours ago. Their cell phones had not been recovered so she had no way to reach him and no chance of finding him in a city that he knew a thousand times better than she. She had called everyone she could think of and subtly inquired after him without revealing the turmoil that had occurred. She felt that it was his prerogative to disclose whatever he saw fit, whenever and if ever. She had gleaned from Mac that he had called in sick. At least he had had one moment of lucidity.
Why hasn't called just to let me know he is okay?
She had done everything she possibly could do to keep busy: paid bills, halted mail and paper delivery, checked and rechecked tickets, packed her suitcase determined to leave tomorrow as scheduled then had unpacked determined to stay and then repacked again. There was nothing else to do but worry. Tears of frustration filled her eyes as she threw herself on the bed.
Suddenly she heard the locks turning. She quickly scrubbed the tears from her eyes and ran into the living room. He looked exhausted as he tossed the keys onto the side table, staring at them for a moment, hands on hips. He let out a long sigh as he turned and saw her.
Her heart wrenched in agony for him. He looked ten times worse than when she had first seen him in the hospital.
With a grim tone he said, "Hell of a day, huh Montana?"
She could only nod; her relief at seeing him had sapped her words.
Then his face twisted in disgust and there was a disparaging tone in his voice, "Bet you can't wait to get rid of me now." He focused his eyes downward.
The sheer terror of the past twenty-four hours, the anxiety over Joe's surgery, Caitlin's upsetting confession and not knowing where he had been for the past several hours when she needed him as much as she knew he needed her had robbed her of her typical rationality and compassion and suddenly she snapped. The emotions quickly spiraled from relief at seeing him, to disbelief over his seeming disregard for what she had been going through, and to anger that he had just tossed this hot potato into her lap. Well she was going to toss it right back; because although she might be willing to work it through with him, she was not willing to give him an easy way out nor sink into his dismal, doomsday mood.
Her anger was burning red-hot but she managed to channel it into a quiet blue burn.
"Then what are you doing here?"
"What?"
His head jerked up and total surprise registered on his face.
"If you think I'm ready to dump you then what are you doing here?" She punctuated each word like annoying kicks to the shins.
She could see the anguish, confusion burning in his eyes as she took a measured step toward him.
"Maybe I should dump you!" she declared.
"Lindsay!" Clearly this was not what he'd been expecting to hear from her.
Finally blue burn gave way to red-hot wrath.
"Where the hell have you been? Do you know how worried I've been about you? I get that you may need some time and space but you could have at least called to let me know you were okay."
He nervously licked his lips visibly struggling for words.
"Walking, just walking… I didn't think about calling… I just…"
She cut him off abruptly.
"But somehow you thought to call in sick."
He pinched the bridge of his nose as if concentrating on something he couldn't quite fathom.
He sliced a hand through air as he spat out, "Christ Lindsay I've just had the worst fucking twenty-four hours of my life."
Through clenched teeth that only intensified the throbbing already hammering in her body she ground out, "I know, Danny. I was there or has that slipped your mind as well."
"What's up with you, Lindsay?"
"I want you to be honest with me Danny, Why did you come back here? You know I'm leaving for Montana tomorrow. If you were so certain I was going to dump you, why didn't you just let me go without bothering with all the messy details of an ugly breakup?"
"I… I… don't know, Lindsay."
"Danny, don't set up a self-fulfilling prophecy for yourself… tell me why you came back here or leave without another word."
He saw the rigid stance of her body, the seething in her eyes and he knew it was all on the line. The truth. He had to tell her the truth or she would be finished with him. He took a deep breath bracing himself, preparing to bare his soul to her. He had never felt so vulnerable in all of his life.
His voice cracked as pangs of need tumbled out with the words. "Lindsay, I came back because I love you and I am praying to God that you're gonna stand by me."
She flew into his arms burying her face into his neck as he crushed her to him pressing fervent kisses into her hair.
"Danny, I love you so much. I was praying that you'd come back… that you wouldn't let this eat you alive."
"It's killing me, Lindsay. I don't know how I'm gonna get through it."
Her hands were flanking his face, stroking the raw stubble with her thumbs, fastening her reassuring eyes onto his feverish ones.
"I know, I know, just one step at a time, okay?"
He removed his glasses and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes to stay the tears.
"But I don't even know where to start."
"We're too tired to tackle this now. C'mon" she soothed as she tugged him toward the bedroom. Halting beside the bed she pulled his shirt up and he obligingly raised his arms, finishing the task for her as she unbuckled and unzipped his jeans letting them drop to the floor.
"Get your shoes off," she directed as she pushed him down on the bed and left him to pull the shades to block the glaring daylight.
When she came back around to the side of the bed he was sitting on he cinched an arm around her waist pulling her close.
"You need sleep, Cowboy," she declared, bracing her palms against his chest to keep some distance between them.
His eyes were somber and she could see the pain etched into his face as he slid a hand up under her kimono to cup the bare, firm roundness underneath.
"I need you, Lindsay." he rasped out.
Eyes locked. His other hand joined the first as he slid them up her bare back until the soft sash loosened and he was able to usher the kimono off her shoulders. The throb in her head and neck were obliterated by the one now pulsing deep in her abdomen. Even though he was looking up at her, he was eye level with her breasts and her nipples grew tauter with each warm exhale of his breath. When her knees were on the verge of buckling, her hands glided over his shoulders settling at the back of his neck her fingers weaving her fingers through his short, spiky hair.
He held her gaze and she wasn't sure what he was waiting for until he spoke, his voice hoarse and vulnerable.
"Lindsay I have to know."
"What?" the word barely registering as an audible sound.
"Do you need me as much as I need you?"
"More Danny… I need you so much that it scares me."
In one fluid movement he tightened an arm around her waist and swept her onto the bed encompassing her suppleness with his solidness. Hands roamed feverishly, caressing, stroking, tantalizing. Mouths urgently joined and parted, tasted and teased, asserted and expressed. In mere moments he was filling her fast and furious, she keeping pace, her need rising as quickly as his, the paralyzing strands of tension from the past twenty-four hours finally unraveling. They toppled almost simultaneously and collapsed in a tangled heap, every remaining ounce of energy expended as they both tumbled into a deep sleep.
---------------------------------
The tantalizing aroma began to lure him out of his deep sleep.
A beer and a slice. What more could a guy want from life? Well except one particular country girl with soft, brown eyes and a warm smile.
Subconsciously he reached out to wrap an arm around that country girl but found the bed empty. He flopped onto his back rubbing his eyes trying to figure out what time it was. Attempting to decipher the digits on Lindsay's clock would be next to impossible without his glasses. He pawed around on the nightstand until he found them. A glance at the clock told him it was well after midnight. His stomach rumbled and as if on cue Lindsay appeared in the bedroom with a pizza box, a bottle of beer and a bottle of water.
"I didn't figure you'd sleep much longer once you smelled the pie, Messer."
"Pizza in bed, Montana? This must be a special occasion."
She smiled that warm smile of hers as she handed him the beer and the box.
"It's easier to talk on a full stomach," she quipped as she adjusted the pillows.
"You got something you want to get off your chest, Montana?" he retorted between mouthfuls of pizza, quirking his eyebrows inquiringly at her.
"No, I'm good… but you on the other hand…"
She shot him a meaningful look as she delicately took her first bite of pizza. He had already polished off his first slice and deliberately ignored her last comment as he pulled another slice from the box.
Within minutes they had demolished all but one slice of pizza.
"You want that last slice?"
"No, it's yours."
"Do want another beer?" He nodded, drained the beer in his hand and handed the bottle to her as she picked up the pizza box.
When she returned she handed him the beer and curled up next to him laying her head on his chest as his arm encircled her.
"What time do you fly out?"
"8:00 am"
"That doesn't leave us much time does it?"
She grinned up at him.
He dropped a swift kiss on her lips.
"I could think of more entertaining ways of spending these last hours together than talking."
He eyed her suggestively as he bobbed his head, gulping a swallow of beer.
"Maybe we can work something out if you talk fast, Cowboy."
Her smile was sweet but her eyes were serious.
He removed his arm from around her and she sat up, ready to listen. He agitatedly rolled the bottle back and forth between the palms of his hands.
"There isn't much to say… FBI didn't recover Nicky's body. I'm assuming he's dead but that's not a given. Tony Venetti, Dad's… I mean…Joe's… fuck it…. I don't know what I mean." Tenuous calmness gave way to pure frustration.
He abruptly clambered out of the bed, strode over to the window raised the shade and leaned his forehead against the cool pane of the window. The street was too quiet to provide a distraction from the turmoil building inside his head.
She padded over to him and slid her arms around his waist laying her cheek against his back. She felt the muscles ripple as he raised his arm to take another swallow of beer. She would miss his slightly spicy, masculine scent, his outrageous smirk, the way he growled her name when he was filled with desire for her, the way he made her forget everything else in the world so she could feel safe, secure and loved. She wasn't sure how she was going to fight her own demons without him by her side.
As if reading her thoughts he suddenly blurted out.
"I don't know how I'm going to do this with you leaving for Montana."
"Just like I'm going to do it… one step at a time," she murmured against his back.
He turned in her arms pushing a hand through her loose curls, cradling the back of her head. She let out a quivering sigh twining a finger through the hairs on his chest.
"Where did you come up with that plan?"
She looked up at him as she replied steadily.
"Your ma."
He dropped his hand to turn away but she stayed him with gentle hands on his biceps.
"I can't talk about this, Lindsay." He turned his face away staring at the wall putting the beer bottle to his lips and draining it.
"Can't or won't? You're going to let your perception of the situation overshadow a lifetime of love and support? Where would you be if she had taken that attitude with you?"
She watched as he struggled with the last swallow of beer and then she felt his bicep clench as he unexpectedly hurled the bottle against the wall. The shatter echoed through quiet apartment followed by his angry assertion.
"It's because of her that my dad… I mean Joe… hated me. Something must have been twisting inside of him each and every time he looked at me."
"You don't know that," she replied desperate to soothe him, anxious for him to see reason. "You have to talk to her Danny. At least give her a chance to explain."
"What do you know about it huh, Lindsay?" His eyes bored into her as the tone in his voice slipped from anger to mockery, "Isn't this a classic case of the pot calling the kettle black? You can't- or won't- even talk to your own mother."
She felt the scalding sting of tears rimming her eyes but she thrust out her chin in defying declaration, "That was a low blow, Danny."
"What?" He held out his hands in mock misunderstanding. "I thought we were talking things out here. Oh I get it! It's okay for us to talk about my problems but not yours."
"You bastard!"
His lips thinned and his face whitened; her hand immediately covered her mouth as her eyes widened at the unintentional implication of her words.
"Danny, I'm sorry… it's just a saying, I'm sorry."
She grabbed his arm but he shrugged it off.
"I'm outta here, Lindsay."
He strode around the bed to pick up his clothes off the floor but she scrambled over the bed and grabbed them before he could.
"Give me my clothes, Lindsay."
"No! You're not leaving like this."
He reached for her but she backed quickly off the bed, over to the window, turned, threw it open and tossed his clothes outside.
"What the f-… My wallet! You just threw a $10,000 credit limit out the window."
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A/N: I know this isn't the reunion that some of you were hoping for but the characters wanted to make war more than they wanted to make love. Really, I have very little control over them! SJ