Denver to Bozeman

………

By the time the plane had landed in Denver, Danny had begun to feel a numbing sensation around the chambers of his heart. It was nerves, Charlie had said. His body realizing what his mind had done. His single serving friend had only smiled at him amusedly, leaving Danny to wonder what, exactly, was so funny. He shook the older man's hand firmly, and they parted pleasantly. Charlie paused after a few steps, watching Detective Messer make his way to his connecting flight several gates down, the weight of the separation hanging heavily on his frame. The slick New Yorker shoved his hands in his pockets, eagerly following the signs for gates 37-54, turning a corner and disappearing from sight.

The early morning sun sparkled brightly from the large glass windows of the terminals, making Danny Messer cringe. He hadn't given much thought to the time, or much of anything else, for that matter, and only now did he begin to realize that it was now Thursday, and had been for sometime. He'd been so tangled in thoughts of Lindsay that he had climbed eagerly on the redeye to Denver in order to take the early morning connector to Bozeman. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his cell phone and turning it back on, glancing at the time.

8:58 AM, New York. He vaguely remembered the flight attendant announcing the local time as a few minutes shy of seven o'clock, giving him roughly three quarters of an hour before he needed to board the flight to Bozeman. His phone beeped softly, alerting him of a series of voice messages, but he shoved it back in his pocket, intent on finding a cup of coffee before dealing with residue from any of this week's shifts.

The urge to see Lindsay was overwhelming, now, and Danny couldn't decide whether he wanted to cry or have a cigarette. Neither would sedate the numbness in his chest, and he flexed his arm carefully, checking for outward signs of the onset of cardiac arrest. It wouldn't surprise him. That gnawing, persistent voice in the bleachers of his mind suggested it was love, in a decidedly Mac-sounding timbre.

Ugh, and now he wanted to throw up.

He frowned, taking in his surroundings haggardly, pulling his frames from his nose and rubbing his eyes in an attempt to push away the fatigue that was bound to bring second thoughts. It didn't work, however, and he trudged along down the terminal in search of anything with caffeine.

He was out of his mind, for sure, but he had made it this far, and he had recently come into some time off. Danny briefly entertained the idea of calling and checking in with his boss, but decided that Mac was better left in the dark on this one. It was really all about Lindsay. He needed to see her, needed to know that she was going to be okay, that she was coming home, that she'd come back to him in one piece. He made his way to a coffee stand, getting in line behind a flight attendant and a business man, the swirling scent of darkly roasted caffeine hitting his senses and clearing his head acutely.

He loved her. It was as simple as that. It had been that easy all along. Everything else had just gotten in their way. He was done with the barriers, done with giving her space, done with letting her set the tone. The flight attendant paid for her tea, and the businessman his latte, and Danny made his way to the counter, returning the bright smile the cashier gave him with a sort of half smirk, worn down by heavy thoughts of his future and how he was going to go about making it their future.

"What can I getcha?" When he didn't respond, the girl behind the counter arched an eyebrow at him, trying again. "Sir?"

"Huh?"

"What would you like?" She spoke slowly, not quite hiding her amusement. What would he like. He would like to be home, curled up in his bed, snuggled against Lindsay's body. He would like to see her smile, roll her eyes at his corny jokes. He would like to kiss her fiercely, tell her he loved her, would like to love her, if she'd let him in.

Danny put his glasses back on, squinting at the girl behind the counter, momentarily confused as her expectant look turned into knowing amusement.

"Lemme guess. Big, with an extra shot of espresso." She worked espresso machine adeptly, pouring first coffee from the steaming decanter into a large travel cup, then dumping the shot in neatly, securing a cover over the top.

"Yeah, thanks." Danny's delayed reaction made the girl chuckle, and she made his change quickly, handing it back to him with a friendly smile.

"Good luck, sir." He paused, eyes crinkled in confusion, but she gave him a smug grin, shrugging. "You look like you're chasing something." Danny's confusion broke into a charming smile, and he breathed out a short laugh, tipping his cup toward her, before taking a step away from the counter, making room for the guy who was behind him.

"You are very good." He felt marginally better after his first sip, the bitter black coffee flooding his taste buds and singeing the back of his throat with welcome feeling. He made his way back down to his terminal, double checking the flight time with the board, smirking as he saw that his flight hadn't been delayed. Danny collapsed tiredly into the last in a row of hard plastic chairs, taking another sip of his coffee before pulling out his phone, deciding to attend to his messages. He dialed his code and hit the pound key, holding the piece of technology up to his ear, his attention falling back to his home state as the automated voice told him he had two messages.

"Hey, Danny, just wanted to tell you we brought Luke Blade into custody, his adoptive mother is filing charges. Time's looking like 25 to life at the least, Hopefully LWP." Mac's businesslike voice transitioned easily from boss to friend in the space of a breath. "Get some sleep. Sleep 'til next Monday, seriously. Thanks for the fourth wind and all that, you should have gone home days ago, but we probably wouldn't have nabbed Blade as quickly as we did. Get some rest. Gimme a call when you're conscious."

Danny pushed his glasses up along the bridge of his nose as he leaned forward slightly, his gaze stalled on the worn, industrial carpeting of terminal 46 of the Denver International Airport. Luke Blade, that was a million years ago, and he had completely forgotten about the case, forgotten about the city, and the space he had promised her. He let out a sigh as Mac's message ended, and the other message clicked on, beginning with a pause of dead air. Finally, he heard Lindsay's shaky voice, small and void of the witty confidence he had learned to love.

"Hey, ah, I guess I missed you. It's nothing, really." He listened to her sigh heavily, fighting off a string of tears. "Court's been dismissed for the day, I, ah I guess I just needed a pep talk, I'm due to testify again tomorrow, I didn't do so well today. We had to stop." His heart shattered as he listened to her cough back a sob, shifting the phone as she wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called. I just- I didn't expect to suck. God, I've been on the stand hundreds of times, and when it really counts, it's like I'm fourteen again." She paused, and he set his coffee on the dingy carpet at his feet, running a hand through his hair, fighting off any outward sighs of emotion as she began again. "I fell apart, and he just laughed at me. Looked me square in the eye and laughed, like this was all a game. How can people be so heartless?" She chuckled bitterly, making him wince. "I just wish I'd gotten used to how cruel humanity is. And unpredictable. I hate him so much, and it scares me, Dan. I've never hated anyone before. Well, I hated him, but he never had a name before. His face wasn't so civilized in my memory. I'm rambling. Sorry." Abruptly, she shifted tones, shaking flighty emotion off her voice. "Listen, you don't have to call me back, I just needed to get all that off my chest. I'll see you in a couple of days."

Never had he been so glad he had made such a rash decision.