Title: Lonely
Summery: Danny is feeling lonely, but it's his own choice… isn't it?
Disclaimer: Danny's not mine (unfortunately, because if he was he wouldn't have to feel lonely), and neither are Sam, Jack and Vivian.
Author's Notes: It's funny how every WAT story I decide to write ends up being a Danny story, but I love the character and I love to write down different interpretations of him. This just came into my mind last night. It has nothing to do with my other stories, and it takes part before the first season of the show – so it's before Martin joins the team.
It's a bit sad, maybe, so feel warned. Next thing I'm going to write is happier, I promise.
Oh – before I forget; please leave a review if you like it… ;-)
………………
He could feel her move underneath him; her breath quickening as she moaned his name. He looked down at her; in the barely lit room he could only see the outlines of her slender body, her face was hidden in his own shadow. She shuddered when finally the pressure was released and a moment later they were lying next to each other, both still out of breath.
He couldn't remember her name.
They had met at a party; after a short conversation she had leant close enough to whisper in his ear, asking if he wanted to go somewhere more private.
He had left the party with the most beautiful woman there by his side and she had promised him "No strings attached" and what more could he wish for?
Now, if only he could remember her name. Angela? Andrea?
She rolled over, throwing her arm over his chest, inching closer until her mouth was next to his ear, her nose buried in his hair. She whispered something, but he didn't listen.
The passion was gone. He needed space.
She told him that it had been good and that he was more than welcome to stay so they could do it again, but he just shook his head. All he could think to say was: "I gotta go."
He collected his clothes from where they had fallen, feeling her stare on his back. She didn't say another word, just watched him as he struggled into pants and pulled on his shirt, leaving it un-tucked.
Five minutes later he was outside standing in the cold rain, feeling the wind whip into his face. By the time he got a cab he was wet through.
When he arrived home it was already one am and he wasted no time getting into bed. It was Monday and the alarm was going to go off in five hours time.
But sleep wouldn't come.
Five hours until he was going to have to get up.
Four.
Three…
Danny groaned and turned the alarm on the nightstand so that he couldn't see the display anymore.
………………
When the beeping of the alarm woke him up he felt like he hadn't slept at all. He reached out and turned the alarm off, groaning into his pillow before he pushed the blanket away, and pushed himself up, supporting himself by his arms, propped on the mattress behind his back.
It took him two more minutes before he finally got up and stumbled into his kitchen to make coffee. Outside the kitchen window the rain was pouring down like it had for days now.
While the coffee was brewing Danny headed into the bathroom for his shower and caught sight of his reflection in the mirror; a tired face framed by dark hair that – in his opinion – desperately needed cutting.
The mirror was big enough to allow him to see his reflection down to his waist, and his eyes briefly rested on the long scar across his stomach. He stared at it for a moment, before lifting his eyes and staring again at himself in the mirror.
"Twenty-nine, Taylor", he finally told his reflection. There was no answer, of course, but he had felt like he had needed to say it out loud.
Who would have thought that Danny Taylor would get that old, anyway?
But then again, Danny Taylor wasn't twenty-nine, not really. Danny Taylor only came into existence eleven years ago; before that he hadn't existed.
But thinking like this was getting him nowhere and so Danny ended the thoughts telling himself "Nonsense!" – said out loud, too – and got into the shower.
………………
He arrived at work, just in time. On his way to his desk Samantha, the new agent, crossed his path. She gave him a smile and a nod, wordlessly wishing him a good morning, and he smiled back, wondering if she knew.
When he reached his desk he was only half-surprised to find that somebody had got him a cup of coffee and a muffin, and he turned around to see his co-worker Vivian smile at him. It didn't take being an FBI Agent to know that it had been her.
Reaching for the coffee cup Danny sat down at his desk, and looked at Vivian, raising his eyebrows. "Thank you", he said.
Vivian just shook her head with a laugh. "You're welcome – and make sure you eat that muffin because I walked all the way to that shop down the street to get your favourite."
Danny looked at the muffin. It wasn't his favourite, but how was Vivian supposed to know? So he kept smiling as he replied: "It's eight in the morning. I'll have it later."
Nodding contently, Vivian turned back to her work.
Danny was about to start working through a stack of files on his desk when he caught sight of Jack, their boss, approaching. He stopped right behind Danny, prodding his back and said: "Hey, you're here."
Danny closed his eyes for a moment then he turned around grinned at Jack. "Where did you expect me to be?"
"I just didn't think you'd be on time today", Jack answered. "Never mind, how're you feeling today?"
"Like always", Danny answered and wished that Jack would either go away or change the subject, but obviously his boss didn't have any intention of doing so.
"Did Sam say anything?" he asked.
"No."
"Why not?"
Wondering why his boss was so curious this morning Danny shrugged and turned back to his work. "Because I didn't tell her."
………………
The morning went by slowly but around noon there came a call. A seven-year old child was missing. It took Danny five minutes talking to the child's parents to know that one of them was guilty and the other one knew.
They finally found the small body in the shed in the family's garden, beaten to death, and it took almost all of Danny's self-control not to throw up right in front of his boss and Vivian. He excused himself, but when he told them that he was going to be right back, Jack said: "Go home."
He knew that it was an offer, not an order, but Danny obeyed, wordlessly. It was ten pm; two more hours left of the day. Not much time for a celebration but there wasn't much to celebrate anyway – not after what Danny had just seen – and so he took the subway home and decided to go to bed right away.
He was exhausted, but not tired and his mind was still replaying the events of the evening.
………………
At 11.58 Danny was still awake, staring at the time display of his alarm wondering what to do. He still wasn't tired and all he had to do to occupy himself with was to stare at the time watching the numbers change.
Of course, he could still get up again and go out, maybe find some company, but a little voice inside his head told him that it wouldn't make him feel less alone.
11.59 and Danny tore his gaze away from the alarm, looking around his tiny, moon-lit bedroom. It was so small there wasn't room for anything else beside his bed and an old wardrobe in the corner that was overflowing with clothes.
Sometimes Danny thought about moving somewhere else. He had moved into the small apartment when he had started working for the FBI and money had been tight, but now he was sure he could afford a bigger and nicer place.
But what was the point? The apartment was big enough for him. It was his choice to make and he had chosen for things to be like they were. Sometimes, though, he wondered if, maybe, only maybe, he'd ever be able to start changing his life and making different choices.
00.00.
The day was over, and so was his birthday. He was twenty-nine now and still alone.
