"Thanks for the lunch, babe," Danny smiled as he walked with his wife to the exit.

She shrugged, "I figured you needed some substance, because..." she tilted her head in the direction of the desk usually occupied by Maria Baez.

He groaned, and shook his head.

She patted his shoulder, "you're strong, you can do it."

He kissed her goodbye, confirming he'd be home at a normal time. She smiled and kissed him on e more before heading off.

"Say it."

"Say what?" Danny asked the young detective, exasperated. Why would they stick him with a twenty five year old self righteous, arrogant, annoying little know-it-all fresh off the boat? It was two hours in to Ben's training, and Danny wanted to pull his hair out.

"That you're a simp!"

Danny stopped walking, not versed in millennial slang. "Is that like a pussy?"

"You can't say that anymore," Ben responded seriously. "But, yes. A simp is a whipped person."

"I am not whipped. And what the hell makes you assume that I am?"

"Because you get stuff for your wife, and you hold her hand, and kiss her in public, and stuff like that."

"So... showing affection to the person who you publically vowed to love till your dying breath is now considered to be an action of being whipped?" Danny asked slowly and almost sarcastically, not understanding.

"That's a complicated way to put it, but the short answer is yes."

"What the hell is wrong with your generation?"

"I take offense at that. There is nothing wrong with my generation."

"Yeah, because being affectionate to your wife is being whipped," he refuted sarcastically.

He sat down, held his hands up in defense. "Hey, I'm just sayin', man."

"A what?" Linda asked as she set the casserole on the pot holder in the middle of the table.

"A simp." Danny responded, following her around the kitchen like a puppy.

"What the hell is that?"

"It's the equivalent to our generation's definition of a pussy. Which, apparently, we can't say anymore. We have to say whipped."

"And why did he say you were whipped?"

"Because I get you water and hold your hand in public."

Linda stopped grabbing the forks and knives, "what the fu- what?"

"Exactly."

"So any display of public affection is damning the guys into simp-dom? What? I- I-" she groaned as she made hand gestures, flailing the knives around. "I don't even have an answer to that!"

Danny took the utensils from her and walked to the table. Setting the table, he responded, "you might not have an answer to that, but I've got an answer."

"Oh yeah? And what's that?" She leaned against the door frame, crossing her arms casually.

He walked over to her, guiding her hand from beneath her arm. He smiled that crooked smile, now holding both her hands. "There's only one thing to do."

"Are you planning to tell me anytime soon?" She playfully ticked an eyebrow, tipping her head back.

Danny hugged her against his chest, "I'll just have to show affection towards you in public more often."

Linda relaxed further as her husband's lips found hers. "You always were a rebel... may I ask what you were thinking of..?"

"You may," he kissed her again, backing her up until they were in the kitchen. He lifted her onto the counter, and moaned when her legs immediately wrapped around him.

Linda pulled away far enough to tease, "tell me more."

He smirked and kissed her lips once again, immediately asking for and getting tongue access. His hands slipped up the hem of her shirt, his finger tapping and scratching at her lower back.

Linda untied Danny's tie, haphazardly throwing it over his shoulder. She tugged his shirt from his pants and had just started to unbutton the white disk when a disgusted voice pierced her thoughts.

"I make food there!" Sean's voice penetrated the romantic moment, causing his parents to blush and awkwardly clear their throats. He rolled his eyes as Linda slid from the counter.

"Sean, set the table," Linda instructed, running her fingers through her hair in an embarrassing fashion.

"It is set,"he sassed back.

"Then wash up for supper."

He shook his head and walked back upstairs, fake gagging the whole way.

Linda slapped Danny on the shoulder multiple times. "Look what you did! You grossed him out! He hates us already."

"He doesn't hate us, Linda," Danny bent over to retrieve the tie. "He just finds us gross. And awkward. And weird."

"We can't do that," her voice lowered into a whisper. "Just cause Jack's out of the house and in college, we seem to think it's okay to do it all over the house, but it's not cause we have Sean!"

Danny chuckled as he shook his head, "fine, we'll be careful. But we're definitely not finished with this." He gestured between them, making Linda smile.

"Oh, I knew that. We just, Y'know, have dial down the PDA."

"If anything, I'm gonna amp it up." As they walked to the table, he voiced his annoyance at culture once again. "Hand holding and just being a gentleman is considered being a simp?"

"I don't get it either, Danny. I mean, it used to be considered galant to hold doors open for ladies. And now it's not? And I'm a feminist! If a guy opens a door for me- if a girl opens a door for me- I'm gonna think that they were brought up right. You know?"

"It's insane," he shook his head as Sean walked into the room.

"What's insane?" He asked as he sat at his place.

"Nothing, Sean. Just the world," Linda smiled dismissively as she and Danny took their seats. "Bless the food."

"I still can't believe being a gentleman is considered being whipped," Danny mused as he and Linda laid in bed.

She sighed, "just forget about it, honey. People are idiots. Besides..." She rolled to her side and walked her fingers up his chest. "I believe you promised your finish what you started?"

"I did say that, didn't I?"

She smiled and hummed, "Mhmm."

The problems of the world were forgotten as the couple showed how much they loved each other. They damned the new culture and the tiny little things people chose to be sensitive over. (Things that never called for such a strong reaction).

What could they say? They were hopeless romantics.