"Bleep, bleep, bleep, bleep, bleep, bleep, BLEEP!" Lindsay grumbled, kicking the car tire and stopping just short of punching the window.
"Feel better?" Adam asked, a slightly amused look on his face.
"No I don't so you'd better drive."
"Whoa."
She nodded and he unlocked the doors, watching her out of the corner of his eye. It wasn't the worst crime scene either of them had ever been at, but it was definitely on the top ten. That coupled with her already bad day, her arguments with Stella and Danny, and that fact that it was nearing 100 degrees in the shade, and a recipe for a Lindsay explosion was well underway.
He rolled the windows down so they would have some circulation while the air conditioner kicked in, then started the car to go back to the lab. He could watch her stewing on the other side of the car and he wanted to say something to make it better. But he knew her well enough to know that no matter what he said, it would be a platitude, and she did better when working through things alone.
They drove on in silence for a while, the radio soft and nearly static in the background of their unspoken thoughts. He rolled up the windows after a while, shutting them away from the rest of the world. As soon as they had locked into position, words shot out of Lindsay's mouth, running as fast as the frustration in her veins.
"It just makes me so mad that I get second guessed all the time. I'm always the one that screws up, but I never screw up! Ever. And it's like they're all out to see me fail. Like they want to make me earn my place and that's fine, but they don't want me to ever earn it. And the one day Stella decides to be all snippy is the one day I really don't have time for it, and it wasn't even her fault and I don't like arguing with her but there we stood like high school girls in this petty argument and I just had to walk away. And then there's Danny with that stupid cocky walk and calling me Montana like I'm some stupid country bumpkin. What gives him the right to call me that anyway? He only does it to irritate me. I'm just so ticked, I want to throw something to break it or tear something in half or rip someone's face off or just scream until I can't scream anymore. Can I scream? I just want to… ARRRRGGGHHH!"
She glanced over at him, having almost forgotten that he was even in the car. She was about to be embarrassed, but he let out a frustrated shriek of his own. They contemplated each other for a minute, then screamed together until they were almost blue in the face. She flopped back against the seat, sighing and grinning.
"Thank you for knowing exactly what I meant."
"I try, hon," he said, patting her hand.
"Hey, no flirting in front of the evidence."
"You are seven different levels of something else."
"And you love every single one of them."
"Yes, I do."
She laced their fingers together and he could still feel the tension coming off of her, but it wasn't so bad anymore.
"Know what you need?" he asked after a while as they sat at a stop light.
"A milkshake?"
"Well that wasn't what I was going to say, but that too."
"What do you think I need?"
"I think you need a date. A real, get dressed up, go to dinner, go dancing, kiss you goodnight at the door kind of date."
"But whoever will I go with? George Clooney is still in Italy."
"Would you accept a poor sad lab tech in his place?"
"No, but I will accept you."
"Tonight?"
"So prepared! And you didn't even consult the Zagat!"
"I am just that amazing."
"That you are," she said with a smile. "Wow, a real date. I haven't had one of those in… my whole life."
"Oh come on."
"Prom doesn't count. And yes, I've been on dates, but never a dress up date. In Montana, it's like throw on the boots that have the least amount of manure on them."
"That's charming, darling."
"That's life in the boondocks, honey."
Lindsay slid her feet into a pair of red flats, looking herself up and down in the mirror to make sure the shoes went with her dress. She decided that if she couldn't tell then Adam couldn't tell and it must be okay. She was hoping he hadn't planned anything too fancy, as the only dress she felt comfortable in was this white sundress and she wasn't sure a jean jacket would be allowed in some of the nicer places he might take her.
She'd curled her hair a little more than normal and pulled it back into a silver clasp, letting a few small stands fall to frame her face. Her make-up was a little different, more apparent and less functioning as a cover up for sleep deprivation. She looked happy. It was a nice change from looking like she was simply surviving.
She hit the light in the bathroom and went to the bedroom to grab her purse. He was right, she had needed this. It was so nice to just let go of work and life, even just for a night. She often felt herself letting go with him, but the intentionality of this night was working wonders. Her shoes clacked across the kitchen floor as she turned the lights off except for the one over the sink. She cracked each window a little, letting a gentle breeze in. She craved the winds of home, but she was getting to the point where she loved the smell of the city too. She stopped for a moment to breathe it all in, but was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"You're on time," she said in greeting. He grinned at her and she didn't miss his head to toe glance.
"Well yeah, but this is a real date, so I figured I'd better tighten things up."
"Speaking of, is that a silk shirt?"
"Yeah. Is it bad?"
"No, you pull it off quite well. And you're not even wearing a t-shirt underneath."
"I have on dark socks too."
"Ooh, fancy pants."
"Thank you."
"I do want my Adam back at the end of the night though, okay? I'm kind of fond of him."
"No problem," he said, helping her slide into her jacket. "You look amazing, by the way."
"Thank you."
She pulled her hair out of her collar and turned to face him. Overtaken by the urge to hug him, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head below his chin. He chuckled a little and held her too, pressing a kiss to her hair. Their breathing fell into twin patterns as they stood there, existing together. It was the most peace either one of them had felt in a long time.
"We'd better get going," he said after a long minute. "Reservations."
"You got reservations that fast?"
"Yeah, but it wasn't that hard."
"Really?"
"It's Tuesday. No one goes out on Tuesday."
"We're special."
"You say that with such pride."
"As well I should, Mr. Ross."
He had promised dinner and dancing, and that is what she got. It wasn't anything flashy, no famous people dining across the room, no whispered instructions to the waiter, no unidentifiable things on her plate. They ate and laughed and talked about nothing of consequence, leaving work and crime out of the conversation. They both saw each other new again, refreshed and young, happy to just be.
He held her tightly as they moved around the dance floor, fully believing that he had the most beautiful woman there, and fully humbled still that she had chosen him. His lips pressed close to her ear and she giggled as chills ran up and down her spine. He dipped her gently and stifled her laughter with his kiss. They stepped on each other's toes, more out of intoxication brought on by proximity to each other, than the inability to dance. She spun out and he pulled her back, catching her eye as she slammed into him. They chuckled together, amused by their own antics, and by silent communication, agreed it was time to go home.
They made their way slowly to her door, wanting the night to last just a little longer, but knowing that early mornings for both of them wouldn't let it. His hands drifted down her arms and wrapped around her fingers, pulling her to him.
"Feel better now?"
"Much. This was perfect. Thank you."
"You're prefect," he said kissing her.
"No, you're perfect."
"The world's going to implode," he warned, framing her face with his hands.
"It'll be a good show," she said, turning her face to press a kiss to his palm.
"Goodnight, Lindsay."
"Night Adam. I love you."
"Love you too."
They shared another short kiss and both went their separate ways. The smiles on their faces would definitely not be rubbed off in their sleep.