Super-duper huge thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed - I've loved reading your comments and your thought processes as the case and the D/L has developed. This fic has been a lot of fun to write (except for when I wanted to punch my fist through my computer screen, or feed my bunnies steroids to get them working again)... but it's been a pleasure to share it with you, and I've enjoyed all your awesome feedback.
As always, huge thanks to Boleyn, Elainhe, and Audrina for putting up with me and allowing me to be a pain in the butt... you guys are awesome. :) Honorary godparents of this fic. :P
So without further adieu... the conclusion of Tempered Glass.

Chapter 13

Lindsay shut her eyes and tried to block out the yelling that was coming from the other side of the door. She struggled to keep back the tears that were threatening to spill over. Noises and voices swarmed around her, but all she wanted to do was escape.

"Lindsay, look at me," she heard Danny say softly. It had to be his hands she was feeling on her shoulders, but she couldn't bring herself to open her eyes, face the world in front of her again.

"Linds, it's okay," said Danny again, trying to reassure her, comfort her, protect her. "You did great in there. You got what we needed to lock this guy up for good."

Slowly Lindsay allowed her eyes to open. Danny stood before her, his face filled with concern and relief.

"There you go," he said, pushing a stray curl out of her face. "You did it."

"We caught him," Lindsay said slowly, as if she had to convince herself that it was true. "We caught him."

Danny pulled Lindsay towards him, wrapping his arms around her, letting a hand run through her hair. She returned the gesture, gripping the back of his shirt in her fists, as if she was breaking, and he was the only thing holding her together.

It wasn't an entirely false thought.

Danny ran a hand up and down her back, trying to slow her breathing. "It's okay," he whispered into her hair.

He felt her take a step back. He dipped his head to look at her – she wiped at her eyes and took a deep breath. "All good," she smiled, but he could tell she was barely holding it together.

"Why don't you head home?" Danny said, pushing her hair behind her shoulder, his fingers lightly grazing the skin on her neck. "I'll finish up the paperwork here, and stop by with some dinner."

"Dinner?" smiled Lindsay, letting out a bit of a laugh. "It's past midnight."

"That's okay," he replied, grinning. "Unless you don't want it."

"No, dinner at one in the morning sounds wonderful," she said. "See you soon, then." She smiled as she placed her hand on his chest, letting it sit there a few seconds, before walking around him and out the door.

Danny followed her with his eyes and smiled. This case had haunted her, brought out her demons, revealed a dark side of her Danny didn't know existed.

Park's words to Lindsay still stung in his ears, though: Do any of them call you again? Come back to find you? When you reject them, do they try to get you back? She had said that to him earlier, nearly verbatim. But as much as it stung to hear it come from the mouth of a serial killer, Danny knew Lindsay didn't mean it in the way it came out. But part of him couldn't shake the feeling that it was true.

He'd talk it over with Lindsay tonight.

The warm water rolled down Lindsay's back, washing away the case and everything about it. A chapter of her career she could finally put to rest, and she was more than happy to do so.

This case had consumed her, and it had consumed Danny, straining their relationship and testing them both in ways she didn't know possible.

Her conversation – or rather, yelling fit – on the street with Danny played over and over in her head. She didn't mean so many of the things she said. She didn't blame him for her problems, for not coming after her, especially when she had asked him not to. She had reacted to the deaths of those women in exactly the way Park had wanted: she started second-guessing herself, wondering if anyone would notice if she were to go missing… if Danny would notice. That was his goal, his point, as he put it. She let him get under her skin, into her thoughts. She let him win.

Lindsay shut off the water and toweled off, changing into jeans and a t-shirt.

This needs to get straightened out, she thought as she ran her brush through her hair. Danny and I need to talk about this.

Danny walked up the stairs to Lindsay's apartment, remembering the outcome the last time he had done this – Lindsay sneaking into his bed, falling asleep beside him, how it felt to watch her sleep.

He reached up and knocked on her door. "It's open," he heard her call from inside. He took a breath and opened the door. On another day he would have made a joke about being her personal delivery man, but thought the better of it.

"Hey," he said as he clicked the door shut. She was sitting on her window ledge, leaning against the glass, staring at the streets below.

"Hey," she said, turning and smiling at him.

"Flack called," Danny said, setting the food down on her coffee table and walking towards her.

"And?"

"He found the third," he replied, leaning against the wall beside her.

Lindsay drew a deep breath and turned towards the window again. Danny moved to stand closer to her, placing his hand lightly on her back. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she said slowly. "I'm fine."

Danny let his eyes wander over her – she didn't look that fine. She looked tired. Her fingers drummed mindlessly against her knee.

"What was her name?" asked Lindsay, not turning her head. "The third one."

"Victoria Shaw," replied Danny.

Lindsay said nothing, just nodded. Sounds from the streets filled the air between them – tires screeching, horns sounding, the typical New York night. After a few minutes, she broke the silence.

"Why didn't anyone find her?"

Danny hesitated before answering, debating what would be the best choice of words. "I don't know the whole story," he replied slowly, "but she owned her own business, worked out of her apartment. She did see her friends regularly, but they had just assumed that she had gotten too busy with work and that was why they hadn't heard from her."

Again, Lindsay nodded, saying nothing in response.

Danny watched the cars pass by, their headlights bouncing off the still-wet pavement. The sky above was dark, only a few stars visible through the breaking rainclouds from earlier.

The sound of crashing metal turned Danny's attention back down to the street where two cars had collided.

"It always amazes me," said Lindsay, quietly.

"What's that?" asked Danny as the two drivers emerged from their cars, clearly irate.

"The glass used in cars," she said. "When you get into an accident, the glass shatters on impact, but doesn't fall apart."

"Tempered glass," said Danny, nodding. "One of the strongest types; when it breaks, it shatters into millions of small, harmless pieces, instead of large, sharp shards. It takes a lot to break tempered glass."

Lindsay sighed as the dual meaning of Danny's explanation registered. Normally, cases didn't bother her, get under her skin. Even the most gruesome cases… she could deal with it. She could put up her front, built up her walls, and retreat behind them.

But Park had changed all that. Park tore down her barriers and obliterated her walls. He left her emotional, exposed, and vulnerable. Like the glass below, she had hit her breaking point.

Lindsay turned to face Danny, taking his hands in hers. "I'm sorry," she said, looking him in the eye. "I'm sorry for everything."

"Lindsay, don't."

"No, Danny, I have to," she said firmly.

Danny knew from the look in her eyes that she was serious. He drew a breath and nodded, prompting her to continue.

"I didn't mean what I said, Danny. I didn't." She ran a thumb absently over the top of his hand. "I know that I asked you to give me space, to let me sort out my own issues, and today I got mad at you for doing just that. I knew, though, even as I was saying it, that I was wrong… there was just something about this case that made me start thinking. I couldn't help but wonder, what if I had been one of Park's women? Would anyone notice if I just didn't show up for work one day? Look at the first one, Emma – she was dead three days because no one expected to see her until Monday. She didn't do much outside of work, and neither do I. If I have a few days off in a row and something happens, would anybody know?"

She drew a breath and broke eye contact with Danny, looking at the floor. "I just… I know I hurt you, and I didn't mean to. I took out my own insecurities on you, and that wasn't the right way for me to deal with it. This case… it just… I snapped."

She kept her eyes to the floor, but didn't let go of Danny's hands.

"Lindsay, it's okay," he said, dipping his head to try to catch her eye. When she didn't look up, he released one of her hands and tilted her chin up. "Really, it's okay."

He saw a vulnerability and sincerity in her eyes that he hadn't seen before. As strong as Lindsay was, as much as she shut out the world and put up a strong front, everybody has a breaking point. This case, the twisted workings of Park's mind, the nonexistent logic of his whole game… that had been Lindsay's breaking point. It was this case that caused her to shatter, to fall apart, to question everything she had come to learn and love.

Danny reached up and tucked a stray tendril behind her ear. "You can push me away all you want, Montana," he said, allowing his hand to rest on her jaw. "But when you break into a million pieces, I'll be the first to put you back together."

Lindsay let out a small laugh and tilted her head slightly into his hand. "A million pieces, huh?" she said. "That'll take a lot of work."

Danny leaned in slowly. "So be it," he replied softly.

They were only an inch apart, her breath warm on his face, his lips tingling in anticipation. He slid his hand to the back of her head, his fingers getting tangled in her hair as he pulled her close. Their lips came together softly, her taste filling his mouth in full force, not diluted by the rain. He felt her hand rest on his hip and tug lightly on his shirt as he increased the pressure, knowing that this time it was shared and true and honest, not mixed up and clouded by uncertainty and desperation that had previously plagued them.

Her scent, her touch, her taste – everything about her invaded him, mesmerized him, ignited a fire in him. They finally broke apart, their breathing shallow and heavy, their foreheads resting against each other's.

"How's that for a job well done?" Danny whispered.

"I may have to fall apart more often," she grinned as she pulled his lips towards hers again.

Lindsay stirred awake to find herself wrapped in Danny's arms, her back pressed against his chest. She smiled as she nuzzled closer to Danny.

"Good morning," came his low voice from behind her.

She smiled. "Morning," she replied as she rolled over to look at him.

"Sleep well?"

"Fantastic. Love waking up next to you," she smiled.

"I know you do," replied Danny, running a hand through her hair. "You take the opportunity whenever you can, don't you?"

Lindsay's eyes snapped open as she realized what Danny had just implied. She felt him start to laugh beside her.

"Busted," he smiled.

"You knew?!" she said, sitting up, playfully hitting his chest.

"Yes, I knew!" he said. "What, you think I'm not going to notice when someone climbs into bed beside me?"

"Why didn't you say anything then?" she asked.

"Dunno," he shrugged. "Didn't want you to leave, I guess."

She smiled and settled back down next to him. "And here I thought I was being all slick," she said.

"Naw, I'm just that good," he teased back.

They lay together quietly, listening to each other's breathing. Lindsay allowed her mind to wander, to reminisce over the past few months. The case of Joe Park had tested her in ways she didn't know possible – her restraint, her emotions, her relationship with Danny. And it had taken her falling to pieces for her to realize how much she really did need Danny in her life – not that she couldn't survive without him, but how happy he made her, how much she enjoyed being with him and beside him.

It had taken a sick, twisted, serial killer to show her that. It had forced her to be vulnerable, to be open, to lean on someone else for support for a change, instead of always trying to deal with it on her own. She realized it now, though, that it was okay to ask for help, to shatter.

She smiled and ran her hand down his chest. "When are you getting up?"

"Mmm, not for awhile," he said, "And neither are you."

"Okay," she said, happy not to put up an argument.

She closed her eyes and fell asleep beside him, knowing that no matter how many pieces she fell into, no matter how small, Danny would always be there.

And she was okay with that.

Fin.