Wow, thank you everyone who reviewed, you leave me speechless. :)
Thanks to the bestest beta/gamma team... Boleyn, Elainhe, and Audrina. Wubbles!
Chapter 9
The taste of Danny mixed with the rain filled Lindsay's mouth. She breathed in deeply, taking in every feeling, every moment, memorizing it. Feeling him begin to pull away, she leaned forward to maintain the contact, her hand finding his soaked hair and holding him against her. His hands found her cheeks, her lower back, the sensations even more prominent through her sopping wet shirt. It was unbelievable to her that Danny – the person she had just yelled at and told off and essentially blamed for everything – was here, kissing her, holding her, feeling her, waking her up from the nightmare she'd been trapped in for months.
They broke the contact but kept their faces only an inch apart. His quickened breath was warm on her face, and she couldn't help but smile when he swallowed the lump in his throat. They stayed like that, close, barely moving, just two people standing on a crowded and miserable street, finding some sort of comfort in each other.
"Danny, I'm sorry," began Lindsay, "I know it wasn't you--"
"—Lindsay," interrupted Danny, pressing a finger to her lips. "You don't have to say anything, I don't need an apology."
'Yeah, but—"
He silenced her again. "Lindsay, it's fine." He leaned back slightly and looked into her eyes: dark, soulful, captivating. Only Danny could look at her and see into her, through her, understand her without words being spoken. But tonight, they offered something she had never experienced before - they offered her support, stability, comfort, somewhere to turn to. Her eyes fluttered shut as Danny's fingers ran across her forehead, pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She leaned into his hand slightly, turning her head just enough to place a soft kiss on his palm.
She smiled as he placed a kiss on her forehead. She slowly opened her eyes and found him smiling brightly back at her. Her smile only widened.
"Now, what do you say we get you into some dry clothes, hmm?" He turned slightly to lead the way back into the lab.
"Yeah, I'd like that," she replied.
She followed him back into the lab in silence, a small grin permanently pasted on her face. As much uncertainty and regret and general bullshit as there was going on in the world and in her life, one thing was for certain – Danny would always be the one constant, the one pillar that she could count on to hold her in place, to keep her stable when she shattered.
Lindsay stared at her reflection in the locker room mirror, her wet hair glued to her head, her clothing clinging to her cold skin. He kissed me.
It was the only thing she could think of as she replayed the scene over and over in her mind. She could still taste him on her lips, feel his hands in her hair and on her back. It had been so unexpected and so full of passion and emotion, practically plowing her right over. It was perfect.
A huge mix of emotions stirred inside Lindsay, a combination of excitement, nervousness, and the weight of the case that continued to loom over her head. She pressed her eyes shut and walked to her locker, pulling out her dry clothes. She peeled off her shirt, Danny's scent invading her mind as she lifted it over her head.
What was she going to say to him now, though? She had blamed him for not coming after her, when she was the one who pushed him away in the first place. And why had she kept him at a distance? Because she was afraid of letting him in, of letting someone get close and see her vulnerabilities and insecurities?
…And would she be able to let him in now?
She shoved her wet clothes into a plastic bag and slammed her locker door in frustration.
I'll figure it out later, she told herself as she walked towards the door. For now, we have to focus on the case.
She was running away from it.
Like she always did.
Danny sat at his desk, staring blankly at the Sequential Killer file in front of him. He had looked at this file a hundred times, each time expecting something new to jump out at him, and each time, nothing.
Lindsay wasn't back from changing yet; he had purposely changed quickly so that she wouldn't come back to an empty office.
But for now, all he could do was wait.
The phone logs stared back at him, as if taunting him. Everything appeared normal in Natalie Dumont's log the day she died. Three calls to three friends, one call from her parents, a call to Giomo's Pizza, a regular number in her logs, and one to the superintendent, which turned out to be nothing but a replacement battery for her fire detector. Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary.
"It's like trying to catch a ghost," Danny said, infuriated, as he took off his glasses and shoved the logs across his desk.
"Hey," came Lindsay's voice as she walked into their office.
"Hey," he replied, smiling.
"So," she said, sitting down and picking up the phone logs. She didn't make eye contact with him. "Anything new?"
She looked so awkward, so rigid. I freaked her out, I knew it.
"Oh, um, no," he stammered, trying to act nonchalant. "Nothing strange in her phone logs, nor anyone else's logs, for that matter."
She nodded, keeping her eyes glued to the logs. He looked at her, trying to read her expression, and for the first time since he'd know her, he couldn't.
He swallowed, wanting to say something to her, but no words came to mind. Instead, he picked up the logs from the first victim, Emma Mezzolo.
But he couldn't concentrate; the tension between he and Lindsay was thick enough to slice with a knife.
He screwed it up. He moved too fast, made too big of a move and it scared her. She was upset and vulnerable, and he took advantage of that. She was just upset and needed a friend, a shoulder to cry on, and instead, he turned it into an opportunity to, what, hit on her?!
The fury was building inside him, and he was struggling to keep it under control. He had to get out.
"I'm going to get some food," he said sharply and he grabbed his jacket and strode quickly from the office.
He kept his head down as he made his way quickly to the stairs, pushing the door open with far more force than necessary… nearly flattening Flack in the process.
"What the hell, Messer!" yelled Flack, jumping out of Danny's way.
"Sorry," mumbled Danny as he went down the stairs two at a time and tore into the parking lot.
His mind was racing, thoughts of regret and fear and rejection invading every thought.
His car chirped as he unlocked the door, slamming it shut behind him. He turned the key in the ignition and cranked up his car stereo.
He had no idea where he was going to go, but for the moment, he just needed to get out.
"I'm going to get some food."
Danny's sudden harshly-toned comment made her jump, and before Lindsay could comprehend what was going on, Danny was out the door and out of sight.
She pushed the logs away from her, letting her eyes wander around her office. The office she shared with Danny. A post-it from Danny a week ago remained taped to the side of her computer monitor. Don't work too hard!. A few days ago, she and Danny had kept missing each other the whole day, and at the end of her shift, she found that note from him. He just had this way of making her smile, no matter how bad a day she'd had.
No matter how many times she'd pushed him away.
But was this time one time too many?