"Hey, your glass is empty
It's a hell of a long way home
Why don't you let me take you
It's no good to go alone
I never would have opened up
But you seem so real to me
And after all the bullshit I have heard
It's refreshing not to see
That I don't have to pretend she doesn't expect it from me"
- Sarah McLachlan ("Good Enough")
He opens the door to Sullivan's for her and watches as she glides gracefully into the darkened and crowded bar. He silently follows her towards their usual table near the back of the room, motioning to the bartender for a pitcher of beer with eight glasses. It has been a long week, but one that justifies a celebration. A crazed taxi driving maniac murderer is finally bars and the city he loves is safe again. He lets out a large sigh as he plops down on the stool across from her at the large rectangular table, eliciting a giggle from her. He smirks at her as he loosens his tie and undoes the top button of his shirt. You got a problem, Monroe? Unlike some people on the team, he takes pride in his appearance, he chides her.
She smiles and rolls her eyes at him as the waitress places their order in front of them. He chuckles with her as he pours their pints. They clink their glasses together in a toast before taking sips of their beer. To them, for being such badasses that it hurts. He receives a full appreciative laugh from her, which makes him grin even wider. Relief washes over him as watches her take a large sip of the amber liquid before taking his own drink. He is glad to see that the color is returning to her cheeks, the light in her eyes shining brighter with each day that passes. The Lindsay Monroe he met by the tiger cage years ago at the Bronx Zoo is slowly returning.
It has been a month since that fateful night in her apartment. He has heard the gossip rippling through the lab when he passes through. It angers him to hear the slanderous words murmured about the sweet country girl from Montana. Danny Messer is no saint. If only those catty women could see that. He can see that the rumors bother the rest of the team as well, especially Stella Bonasera. He notices her murderous glares at the women whenever they utter a defaming word about the young CSI. But they all take Danny and Lindsay's leads. They do not acknowledge the talk. They are a team. They are family. They are better than this. No one knows the truth except for Danny and Lindsay… and him.
And Don respects their privacy. He does not gossip. He does not breathe a word to a single soul, even though he is aware that the wrath of Stella is impending upon him. Besides, he only knows a portion of the story. Not even a chapter, maybe a paragraph at the most. So he lets the couple work out their problem on their own. His two friends know that he is there for them if they ever need him, even though he would still like to knock his best friend's teeth out on occasion.
Lindsay clears her throat. He can see that there is a question in her large brown eyes. Cow got your tongue, he asks. She throws him a playful sneer and sticks her tongue out at him. As they wait for the rest of the group to show, they make small talk. After a few pleasantries are thrown in, she tosses him a question he is not expecting. How is his progress with Detective Angell?
He nearly chokes on his beer. Where did she get that idea? She simply shrugs that she's heard things. He shakes his head at her, she of all people should know better than to listen to the water cooler gossip. He instantly regrets his words, expecting the light in her eyes to extinguish. Instead, she laughs merrily at him, that's why she's going directly to the source, Detective.
He likes Lindsay's honesty, he welcomes it. And he knows what he says to her will stay between them. He refills her glass and proceeds to open up to her. He likes Jess. She's tough. She's funny. She understands him. She keeps him in line. But he's hesitant. He's seen what happens to couples in the work place. He doesn't want to be part of the rumor mill. Besides, he's not sure if she feels the same way about him. Lindsay nods in understanding. She reaches across the table and pats his hand. Take it slow, she advises. All good things come to those who wait, she tells him before spotting the rest of the team walk through Sullivan's door.