A/N: Y'all can breathe a sigh of relief on this chapter. Thank you for all your support on that last chapter. I know it was tough.

Thanks to MariaLisa for the encouragement, support and beta. hugs

The Slide Into Home

A warm summer's evening

Moth's fluttering to the light

A crack of a bat

A slide into home

What could be better than that?

- Sally Jetson

Perched on the edge of the bed, she gazed around the rustic interior of the room in the harsh morning light, replaying event after event of the past several hours. The pain of the night, raw, dark and raging had not vanished; instead it had transmuted into the pain of daylight, sharp, bitter and piercing. It was exposed; challenging her balance, wreaking havoc in her mind. How could she possibly handle it? Her gaze alighted on the twisted bedcovers and she was reminded and reassured; the tingle deep inside causing her skin to heat as she closed her eyes, allowing the memories to envelope her senses.

She settled into his arms, concentrating on his even breathing fanning across the top of her head, the warmth of his hands searing her skin as one curled around her neck; the other low on her hip and his heat; his heat sealed in beneath the heavy comforter. It slowly fanned her aching need for him until she could fight it no longer. Whether it was the right time or not she needed him; wanted him; but most of all she needed him to want her.

At first he resisted, the previous interplay fresh in his mind, but she persuaded him with tender, stoking caresses and whispered assurances. When his hand tangled into her hair she draped a leg over his hip hitching his taut muscles closer to her cushioning curves. Their lips met, tongues tangling to reacquaint, recapture and reaffirm. She shifted underneath him, suggesting, inviting, enticing; again he hesitated. Shifting his weight to his forearms, his hands flanked her face, thumbs brushing across her cheeks.

"Wait, I need a sec…"

She was surprised at the uncertainty in his voice and doubt twinged in her heart.

After a steadying breath, he continued, "…to slow down or I'm going to be off like a racehorse out of the gate…and I just don't want to hurt you, Lindsay."

She couldn't help it as a tear trickled from the corner of her eye and thudded quietly onto the pillow beside her ear.

"You're not going to hurt me… I promise… I need you, Danny…I…"

The raw ache in her voice must have convinced him because he silenced her by joining them in one tantalizing thrust; their sighs mingling, her back arching in ecstatic fulfillment, his forehead dipping reverently between the valley of her breasts, their rhythm syncing; then building; carrying them beyond themselves, beyond the world of guilt, pain and regret to one of singular harmony and completeness.

"Ready?"

She blinked. He stood before her blocking the harsh glare of the morning light.

She barely nodded to him as the tears gathered in her eyes. "I don't know if I can leave yet… I feel like I'm abandoning Laurel if I do."

He squatted, palming her knees.

"Lindsay, you can't abandon her…she's right there," he reassured as he tapped a finger over her heart.

She clutched his hand holding it against her heart as she squeezed her eyes closed.

"The pain… I don't know if I can do it."

"One step at a time, Montana… that's the only way anyone can do it."

She opened her eyes, looking down at his hand as she pulled it away from her heart, turning it over, cradling it, stroking the inside of his wrist.

"That's how you got through it, right?"

He didn't answer but shifted his weight onto his knees, haunching back on his heels.

"What happened, Danny?" she murmured, pressing a gentle kiss where her fingers had been stroking moments before.

"Linds, it was such a long time ago." He arched his head back looking skyward passing a hand across his face as if to wipe away the memories.

"But it's a part of you and… I want to know."

She intertwined their fingers. "I couldn't be there for you then but I'm here for you now."

An anxious appeal appeared in her eyes, hoping that he would understand that she needed to be worthy of his trust.

"It was so stupid really… I screwed up."

She heard the frustrated sigh clench in his chest and then release as he began.

"I was in a bar looking for Louie… typical story of my life but it was important to Ma that he come to my playoff game. Me? I could'na cared less 'cause I had it made. Scouts from the majors had been sizing me up for months."

"Is that where you ran into Nicky Roselli?"

"Yeah, I overheard a conversation between him and some of my teammates. They were wet-behind-the-ears rookies from upstate... no street smarts whatsoever so I sent 'em packing. They didn't deserve to have their chances for success ruined by a fuckin' lowlife like Nicky Roselli."

"And that's when he went after you."

"Nah, he didn't go after me..."

"I don't understand, I thought…"

"He threw out an insult he knew I wouldn't back away from. Then he headed out the back door into the alley."

"He played you?"

"Yeah, 'cause he knew I couldn't let it pass… if I had just let it pass… if I hadn't been such a fuckin' hot head."

His hand gripped hers tightly almost to the point of pain.

The compulsion to know at the expense of his pain forced the words from her lips.

"What did he say?"

He disentangled their hands and wearily sat on the bed beside her, resting his forearms on his thighs, shoulders hunched, staring at some arbitrary point on the wall.

"He said…. 'Don't worry Messer, you'll eventually fuck it up. After all your ma is a whoring bitch and you're nothing but her bastard son.'"

She flinched at his muttered words as an incredulous, "Danny," escaped her lips.

The words themselves were heinous enough but in light of the recent events she knew fresh salt had been poured into old, supposedly healed, wounds.

He pressed the heels of his hands to his forehead in pure anguish.

"And I did… I fucked it up… royally!"

"Danny, I'm -."

The anguish seeped into his words as rapped a fist on his knee, "Don't say it Lindsay! Don't say you're -"

"- sorry?" she supplied softly as she laid a comforting hand on his thigh.

"I wasted enough time feeling sorry for myself when it happened all those years ago."

She slid her hand down his thigh covering his fist with her hand, leaning into him resting her chin on his shoulder.

"I can be sorry that it happened to you without feeling sorry for you."

She saw the blue smolder of regret in his eyes, the tense seam of his lips as she guided his face towards hers.

"I know Lindsay, but I could be wrapping up a successful career in baseball right now, if I hadn't followed Roselli into that alley."

She dropped her eyes quickly to hide the uncertainty; watching the blue stretch of denim across his thigh blur. Wordless seconds ticked by.

"What's wrong?" he murmured, lifting her chin with a finger.

"If you were wrapping up a successful career in baseball right now, there might not be an us."

She bit her bottom lip to keep from asking… "Would you choose a career in baseball over me?"… But it burned in her mind and hung in the air between them. It was one of those things women want to know... like, 'who was the first woman you ever made love to?'… Completely in the 'do not need to know column' but definitely in the 'have to look at the bloody accident on the highway' category.

His tongue darted across his lips in agitation as the silence stretched like a barrier between them. Finally she gave way to the barrier, dropping her hand and lifting her chin from his shoulder, dreading… dreading not that he wouldn't answer, but that he would.

To quell her own agitation she abruptly rose and crossed the room, staring out of the window at the reflected glare of the sun on the snow. She could feel the pain again, sharp, bitter and piercing, intensified by the thought that she was a choice of regret, and a second choice at that.

"Lindsay"

His hands were on her shoulders; his voice was hoarse in her ear. She hated that his breath warmed her skin.

"Can you honestly tell me that if you could bring Laurel back at the expense of us that you wouldn't consider it, even for the briefest moment?"

His hands tightened in a silent plea of understanding as his breath continued its whispered persuasion across her skin.

In opposition to her heart, her body responded with a hiccupping sniffle that was inconsequential in sound but enormous in significance.

"Touche," she whispered.

He slid his hands down her arms weaving his fingers through hers, wrapping their arms securely around her waist as he pressed a grateful kiss into the hollow of her shoulder.

His voice vibrated against her skin. "The past is gone… I'd rather concentrate on the future… on us."

"Me too," she agreed softly, as she turned in his arms, locking their hands behind his back and standing on her tiptoes to brush her lips across his.

He released one of her hands and cupped her chin, holding her face close to his, caressing her bottom lip with his tongue… nibbling with his teeth… sucking with his lips… until it swelled and she sighed.

"An hour, Cowboy," her voice husky with desire, her hands tugging at his shirt, "that's all we have until check out time."

"Not near enough time, Montana," he growled, blue eyes promising brown "but it's a start."

Fingertips floated along her jaw line, trailed down her neck, traced her collarbone and circled into the hollow at the base of her throat. His lips replaced his fingertips and as his tongue swirled within the hollow, the desire swirled deep within her groin.

All that her hands could do was twist into the hem of his shirt, driving his hips closer to hers.

"Tell me where you want me to start, Lindsay," his words reverberated against her throat.

She laced her fingers into his; guiding them to the swell of her breast, "Touch me..."

He grazed his thumb over the tip and she shuddered, knees weakening. He snaked his arm around her, palming her upper back to steady her. Another tantalizing brush with his thumb and her head arched back, eyelids fluttering closed.

His hand had already moved to the buttons of her blouse, anticipating, as she murmured, "On my skin." And she knew that that would be the last mind-engaged utterance she would make until he tipped her over the brink.

She laced her fingers behind his head, urging his mouth downward. Reading her cues he lapped and blew across her skin in the wake of his fingertips as they unbuttoned her blouse, thrilling when the last button freed and he could push aside the fabric to reveal the lace-clad curves whose tips fleshed dusky rose against the flimsy fabric. He hooked a finger around the shoulder strap, ushering it low on her arm. The sudden arching of her back and her deep inhale thrust her breasts up in wanton offering and his mouth captured one taut tip in succulent abandonment. When her fingers dug into the back of his neck, he slicked his tongue across the dip and crested the other, teasing it to match the rosy, glistening puckering of its twin.

He rained tender kisses up to her ear.

"Where next, Lindsay?" His own breathing raspy with desire.

She drew his hand in between them, pushing it deep between her legs.

"Here?" He stroked a lazy finger along her still-clothed crotch, "is this how you want it?"

A moan vibrated deep in her throat but she shook her head.

"How then… how do you want it?"

She struggled to put space between them but he held her close.

"I want to hear you say it."

"Inside," she whispered.

He deftly unbuttoned and unzipped, sliding his hand low, fingering her, tantalizing her, waiting for her….

She gripped his wrist, pushing it. He splayed two fingers, spreading her.

Her head dropped into his shoulder as her hand gripped the back of his neck. The tension began to mount….and he wasn't even inside her….but he knew how to caress her…how to bring her from moistened to drenched in mere moments.

But it wasn't enough for her.

"Inside."

"Show me, Linds."

Her hand shadowed his, pressing his fingers inside her, feeling herself stretch to accommodate, then clench in retraction… enveloping his fingers.

"Damn, you're so wet and hot and…. tight."

He growled the last word and she bit her bottom lip against the half smile of satisfaction as she looked into his eyes and thrust against his hand.

His sucked his lips against his teeth in concentration as he held her eyes.

He pulled his fingers out, circling around the entrance; her eyes narrowed.

He thrust them back in, pressing his thumb to that sensitive spot and the first shudder ran through her body.

Again he pulled out; her hips followed, not wanting to relinquish the sensation. He smiled slightly, circling...thrusting… each successive movement becoming swifter and stronger, until she felt the spasms shudder through her body, her fingers yanking at his hair, her lips suffering at the mercy of her teeth.

When the last spasm passed into a slight clench, and her body collapsed against his, he hooked his arms under her legs, swinging her into his embrace, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he laid her gently onto the bed.

"I'm not done with you, Cowboy," she throated, eyeing him through her lashes, arching and stretching in an alluring feline manner.

"I didn't think you were, Montana," he smirked as he yanked his shirt over his head and dropped his jeans to the floor.

Her actions mirrored his own as her clothes joined his on the floor. She reclined back onto her elbows inch by inch, her smile widening as he crawled up the bed towards her his body covering hers, her hands clenching low on his waist; his tangling into her hair.

He groaned deeply, smothering her mouth with his own. Her hands skimmed up his back, palming the back of his head; their tongues bartering for control.

He nudged a knee between her legs and she obliged by wrapping her legs around his waist. He eased into her, biting his lip at each responding clinch until she fully sheathed him… and then he stilled… his forehead resting upon hers… his breathing ragged. She kissed him… gently, softly, tenderly… along his whiskered jaw until she reached his ear, teasing.

"Are you holding out on me, Cowboy?"

"Nah Montana…. I just can't get over the feeling of being inside you…even now… it feels better than…"

"Than the crack of a bat…" She immediately bit her lip and dropped her eyes. Lindsay, that was unforgivable. She raised her eyes in apology.

There was a pained expression on his face so reminiscent of the pain he'd been experiencing for the past several days and she felt ashamed but he was the first to speak.

"Lindsay"

She put her fingers to his lips, "No, Danny I have to apol-"

"No…" he whispered, shaking his head, pressing her fingers to his lips in a tender kiss.

"I have to apologize for even letting you think that… that… I would choose baseball over you… I wouldn't … I swear."

"Danny, it doesn't matter, like you said, what is past is past."

The relief tentatively passed over his face, easing the lines across his forehead.

"Lindsay…"

"Shhh," she curled her fingers around his, pressing his hand to her heart, "… just make love to me… just love me…that is all I want… no apologies, no self recriminations, no regrets… just love me."

"Always Montana…always," he promised, as he began to rock her gently, allowing her moans and her sighs to guide him, pacing himself so that when she went, he would go with her, because he was inextricably bound to her… always and forever… and he wouldn't have it any other way.