Wow, a huge huge thanks for everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter, your kind words make me smile. :)
Thanks to Bobo, Elainhe, and AudiPouty for the beta/gamma jobs on this.

Chapter 8

"A four? A four?!" said Lindsay, her eyes darting between Danny and the body, her brain refusing to register what her eyes were seeing.

Danny didn't say anything, a fierce look of determination and disgust on his face has he began photographing the body.

Something began to boil in the pit of Lindsay's stomach. Assuming this guy didn't skip the number three on purpose, it was a possible explanation for the two-week gap between bodies… though it wasn't so much a gap as it was some woman somewhere who had simply not been found.

But she couldn't let a possible missing person – body – consume her thoughts, not when she had a fresh crime scene to process. And this crime scene needed all of her attention, and then some.

This needed to end.

After thoroughly processing Natalie's home, Lindsay sifted through the evidence at the lab. They had taken many more pictures than normal, collecting anything that could possibly provide a clue. But even so, the only promising piece of evidence was a tiny partial fingerprint found on the doorframe on the outside of Natalie's apartment. And that could belong to anyone.

A storm was passing over New York, causing traffic chaos and downpours of rain. It was as miserable outside as Lindsay felt inside. Somewhere in the city was a woman lying dead in her own apartment, a bloody '3' in her torso, and no one knew.

All the feelings of dread that Lindsay had been feeling before were coming rushing back – what if it was her? Would anyone notice if she was missing for days? Danny said he would, but would he really? She was, after all, the one to reject him, demand distance, so would he really give it a second thought if she went MIA for a few days? Lindsay pushed the thoughts from her mind and focused instead on tape lifting the clothes Natalie had been wearing. She had to get lost in her work, buried in it – it was the only way to distract herself.

But the distraction wouldn't last long. Footsteps approached behind her, and the familiar flutter in her stomach as she recognized them as Danny's.

"Lindsay," he began, "I ran that partial print, even though it was a bit smudged. The usable portion was pretty small, but there were a few possible matches. Flack's working on locating everyone. We've got a solid day of interrogation waiting for us tomorrow. But who knows if that will produce anything…"

Danny's voice trailed as he rubbed his face in his hands as he paced behind her. Lindsay was only half-listening, trying to keep her concentration on anything besides Danny and all the uncertainty she was feeling. Apparently, Danny hadn't noticed this, because he continued to babble.

"…but we did find the print on the outside of the apartment, so any of these people could be completely innocent, and we don't know if the person we're looking for is even in the system to begin with! And let's not forget that we're now trying to find any hint of where this third woman might be, assuming she even exists – for all we know this guy is just messing with us, granted he's so methodical that that's unlikely—"

Danny mentioning the missing woman was too much for Lindsay; something in her exploded, and all the emotions she had been hoarding flooded over. She spun around and faced Danny.

"Don't you think I already know this?" she shot. "Don't you think I've had the same thoughts going around in my head?!"

Danny looked flabbergasted. "Lindsay—"

"Just stop!"

And with that, she stormed past him, her vision blurring as tears began to form. She kept her head down as she quickly made her way to the stairs, ignoring Danny calling her name behind her.

She ran down the stairs and out the front door onto the sidewalk. People hurried around her, pulling their overcoats tight to their bodies and clutching at their umbrellas. The rain assaulted her face and shoulders, not taking long to soak her clothes and hair, but she didn't care. All she could think about was this mystery victim, and Danny – damn Danny! Damn him! If he wanted her so badly, then why didn't he come after her? Why didn't he fight for her, be there like he promised he would be? Instead he had simply let her walk out of his life without even an argument, just stood there and accepted the situation for what it was.

"Lindsay?" said Danny softly behind her.

She angrily wiped at her cheeks, her tears mixed with the rain, her toes and fingertips numb from the cold. "What do you want?" she asked sharply, not turning around.

"Lindsay, come back inside, it's freezing, and you're soaked."

"No!" she shot, keeping her back to him.

"Can you at least tell me what's wrong?" His voice was filled with concern, but all Lindsay could think of was her own loneliness and isolation. None of it made any sense.

She drew a breath and focused on the puddles on the pavement. "You didn't come after me," she said quietly.

"What?"

Lindsay turned to face him. He was a few feet away, standing under the roof of the building, still dry. Bustles of people scurried between them, not noticing the tension that filled the space.

"You didn't come after me," she repeated, this time with more force.

Danny just stared at her, confusion and hurt apparent on his face. "I don't understand."

Lindsay pushed her hair away from her face. "You said you wanted to be with me, but you did nothing to prove it. You didn't fight, you didn't argue, you just let me walk away, away from you. And you didn't come after me."

Danny stepped out from the protection of the lab and into the rain. She stood frozen in place, her anger and sadness and frustration bubbling higher with every step he took.

He stopped in front of her and shifted uncomfortably, as though he was unsure of what to do with himself. Finally, he whispered, "I didn't know that you wanted me to."

A small part of Lindsay, in the back of her mind, knew he was right, but her whirlwind of emotions made rational thinking impossible, and rage took over. She placed both hands firmly on his chest and pushed him away.

"If you really wanted me, you would have come after me, Danny, instead of just letting me go like that. You let me just… walk out. And now, and now…" Her hands formed fists at her side as she fumbled to find words. "And now, you're just there, pretending like nothing's wrong, calling me Montana, teasing me, coming over to comfort me, but when it comes down to it, you're still letting me walk away!"

She knew she wasn't making any sense, but she didn't care. The tears flowed freely down her cheeks, intermingled with the rain. She looked directly at Danny, who was now soaked, his hair plastered to his head and his glasses spotted with raindrops. Her final piece of self-control broke.

She took a meaningful stride towards him, and pounded her fist against his chest.

"I did want to be with you, but you didn't fight me, didn't come after me. Would you notice if I was gone, if I just disappeared? Would you even care?" She hit him again. "Would it make any difference? Would I be just like that woman who's out there with a bloody three in her chest, dead for days – sorry, weeks," she hit him again, "and-" hit "-no-one-even-knows-it!!"

Her hits became weaker as the last of her composure shattered and she cried against his chest.

Danny's heart broke with every contact her fists made with his chest, but when she broke down against him, all he wanted to do was pick up the pieces of her and put her back together. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight as she let it all out.

"It's okay, Lindsay," he whispered, "I'm not going anywhere."

They stood together for several moments, the rain not easing up. Nothing Lindsay had said had made any sense, but one line stood out clearly in Danny's mind: that he didn't go after her. But that was what she wanted, for him to give her space while she sorted things out. He promised he'd be there, told her to call if she needed him. Did it make any sense for him to continue chasing her after she asked for space? He'd decided to wait for her, convincing himself that she'd come around when she was prepared… but apparently that wasn't the case.

He slowly tilted his head back to look at her. He ran his thumbs over her cheeks, wiping away the tears and the rain.

"Lindsay, I didn't come after you because I thought you wanted space," he said slowly, lightly stroking her face. "I wanted to be with you more than anything, and I still do. But I didn't want to push you or rush you." He picked a stray tendril off her cheek and pushed it back. "And as for not noticing if you go missing… you couldn't be more wrong." He drew a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to say. "I hate the days when we don't work the same shifts, and I get excited when we get assigned to the same case. Days when I'm not with you, you don't leave my thoughts.

"I know you're still dealing with things that are going on in your life… but Lindsay, I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here, as close or as far as you want me to be." He drew a breath, speaking slightly faster as his heart pounded harder against his chest.

Lindsay took a step back and looked up at him though his water-spotted glasses. Her mind was reeling as it took in his words, but somewhere in her head, irrational, emotional, uncontrollable Lindsay was still in control. "But if that's how you feel, then why didn't you just tell me that? Why risk it?"

"Dammit, Lindsay, I said I wanted to be with you, are you evening listening to me?" barked Danny, frustration creeping through his body. "But sometimes, I just… you just…" His voice trailed and his breaths were shallow.

"What, Danny? You just what?" demanded Lindsay.

Danny's hand found the back of her head, and his lips crashed down against hers.