He doesn't even have time to register the sensation of rocks jutting into his back before she's scurrying around the car. Dropping to her knees, one hand rests gently over his heart while the other one flutters nervously between checking the pulse at his neck and sweeping the hair away from his sweaty forehead. "Oh-shit-oh-shit-oh-shit, you're not breathing." The panic bubbling through her pitches her voice high, the words all running together as they tumble from her lips. "Come on, Danny. Breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Just like you've been doing your whole life."

As if on cue, he catches his breath, sucking in a strangled gasp. He could have only been struggling for air less than a minute, but it feels like an eternity to the both of them, Mindy letting out a little cry of relief before swooping down and capturing him in an awkward hug.

Her breath is hot against his ear, the fringe of his hair fluttering as she gives her thanks to the universe. "The authorities never would have believed killing you was an accident."

His hand is resting on her waist, just above her hip, the fingers itching to travel to the spot they'd rested once before. There must be some part of him that's severely masochistic, because he doesn't give in to the urge (even though she smells like lavender and spice, and he's breathing deeply, just as she instructed).

He's tempted to just lay there and let her fuss over him. No one ever does that, and it feels nice, in spite of the constellation of bruises that's undoubtedly forming on his back as her weight pins him down. He wouldn't mind slowing time just a little, memorizing the smell of dust settling around him, the electric feeling in the air. Idly he wonders if it's going to storm again soon.

She's got one arm curled around his neck and they're lying chest to chest, her lower body angled away from him. He wishes he had the wherewithal, or even courage, to drag her fully on top of him, let his hands roam where they may. Instead he lies like a nervous teenager, unsure of where they stand as his fingertips trace the seam at her waist.

The dress she is wearing is surprisingly thin, body heat seeping through it like water running through a sieve. It would only take a flick of his wrist, and the barely there straps would slide down her smooth shoulders. He could splay his hand across the softly jutting angles of her body, let her hair cascade over him like a waterfall.

Naturally, just as he's about to take leap into the unknown and capture her lips in a stolen kiss, she pulls away, scrambling to her feet. She stops to readjust her neckline before bending down to offer him a hand up. Her palm fits pleasantly against his, and he's impressed by her surprising strength as she hauls him up, bracing herself against the side of the car. It's for the best, he thinks. She seems utterly oblivious to the machinations of his wayward libido.

Back in the car, Danny twists the key in the ignition, and Mindy continues to chatter outside the car, batting away the dust from her skirt as she peers at him through the window. "Delores would have been the state's star witness."

Her words come out of nowhere, and he worries that maybe he hit his head when he fell. "What?"

"In my murder trial. She would have gone on and on about how I was an ungrateful little tramp who yelled at you for buying me pie. The jury would have eaten it up." The passenger door is open and she's sliding into the seat. Apparently their therapy session is done for now.

He only shakes his head, amazed at the scenarios she seems to constantly be dreaming up. "The pie?"

"Delores's testimony, Danny. Jesus, do you have a concussion?"

Before he can answer she's arching across the space between them, reaching for him. Her fingers thread through the hair at his nape, gently checking for any strange lumps on his scalp. It's a nice sensation, sending shivers up Danny's spine. Shrugging her off, his hands find the steering wheel again. He can almost convince himself that the buzzing in his skull is the result of the faint vibrations of the car as the engine hums. "She liked you."

Mindy's barely paying attention to him now, rolling down her window with a satisfied grin. The air rushes in, pleasantly dry and warm. "I think she liked you more, and I was liked by association."