Catch the Wind (2/2)
See first chapter for disclaimer, etc.

Author's Notes: This second half shifts to Danny's POV. A sequel is currently in the works, and possibly one more after that - I just love these two, they're so much fun to write for!!

ETA: This story is indeed finished; apologies for forgetting to mark it as such. The sequel is entitled "Don't Be Hasty", and will be posted as a separate story; no promises as to when it will be completed.

Despite the double-header he pulled at the lab and the puny hour-and-a-half nap that he managed on the plane ride over, Danny finds himself drifting restlessly in and out of sleep. At three in the morning he's wide awake. Letting out his breath in a huff of annoyance, he pads downstairs. The temperature has plummeted drastically since this afternoon, and he snags his jacket from the coat rack to guard against the chilly country air. He's contemplating whether or not Stevie will mind if he has another piece of the key lime pie from desert when he spots a lone figure seated outside on the steps of the porch. In the midnight moon he makes out Kenny's profile, a cigarette dangling from his lower lip. The smoke curls towards the sky in delicate tendrils and dissipates into the night as Danny slides open the glass door to join him.

Kenny jumps in surprise at the sound, nearly dropping the cigarette. Danny holds his hands high in surrender, and when Kenny sees who it is his shoulders relax.

"Sorry," he mutters. "Ma hates me smoking. Gotta sneak one in when I can."

"You're secret's safe with me," Danny assures, taking a seat on the stairs next to Lindsay's brother. Kenny holds out the pack, lighter stuffed into the space vacated by cigarettes long-since smoked.

"Want one?" Had he been asked last night, this morning, anytime this past week since Lindsay's departure, Danny might have been tempted. But he only craves his childhood vice when he's tense or stressed. And after a guilty verdict and Lindsay's soft curves pressed into his side all day, he is loose and carefree and in no need of the nicotine. He waves away Kenny's offer.

"Nah, I'm good." Kenny shrugs and drops the pack back into his lap, inhaling deeply. He's clearly used to the cold, dressed in only a light t-shirt and boxers. Danny zips his jacket shut and surveys the darkened landscape. Even at this late hour, the peaks of the distant mountains stand out in sharp relief against the night, the moon unobscured by search lights and skyscrapers, and he is slowly beginning to understand why Lindsay treasures her humble upbringings.

"So why didn't anybody come to the courthouse today?" he blurts. Kenny glances at him sidelong.

"She asked us not to," he says. Danny chuckles.

"Yeah. Doesn't really surprise me," he admits. He would ask Kenny or Stevie about Lindsay as a child if he didn't think that she'd introduce him to the business end of her Glock, but he is positive that she was a handful, all stubborn independence and head in the clouds.

"So you and Lindsay. You're friends?" Ah, the "hurt her and I will castrate you" speech. He'd expected it sooner. He supposes that he could lie, assure Kenny that his intentions are entirely honorable, but he doubts that he will be very convincing so he tries instead for honesty.

"I guess. I mean she's been turnin' me down for months, but I'm still hopin' to change her mind."

"Most guys would have given up by now." There's an edge to Kenny's voice, and Danny finds that he's quite adept at translating vaguely threatening brotherly advice, because he understands the sentiment loud and clear: She's too good for you. Take a hint. On some level he knows it's probably true.

"Lindsay's special," Kenny continues. Danny certainly doesn't need to be told this, but he wisely keeps his mouth shut and lets her brother speak. "Our dad bailed when I was eleven. Linds was twelve. After that, our land became our life - we're ranchers, all of us. I'll probably inherit this place when Mom dies, and I'll keep it going until I run it into the ground or my kids take over for me. And I'll be happy with that. But Lindsay...she's always wanted more." His cigarette reaches its end and he stubs it out in the dirt, extinguishing the glowing embers then pocketing the butt - so he can safely dispose of it somewhere Stevie won't discover, Danny assumes. "Jack moved out here to help us after Dad left. He's the one that hired Dallas and Pablo, just a few months after he got here. The five of us have seen her tackle and hog-tie a bull. We acted out The Wizard of Oz for her when she broke her arm jumping off the roof of the Clark's barn and our T.V. set wasn't working. And every single one of us cried the day she moved to New York - she's my sister, Mom's daughter, Jack's niece, and I'm pretty sure that Dallas and Pablo are half in love with her. So when I tell you that she's special, I'm not just talking out of my ass. She's our girl, all of ours. And there's nothing we wouldn't do for her."

Danny is unsure what to say in response, and finds himself wishing that he had taken that cigarette, just to have something to do with his mouth and hands. He settles instead for fiddling with the cuff of his jacket, the hem of his pants.

"Did she tell you why she wouldn't go out with you?" Kenny asks. Danny thinks that maybe he should abandon the rancher-for-life idea, because he'd make a fantastic interrogator.

"Not directly. She said she had a lot to deal with. I think she was talkin' about all of this."

"She didn't tell you what happened?" Danny shook his head.

"She chickened out sayin' goodbye to me - left me a card. That's when I knew somethin' was wrong, because she's not exactly one to shy away from confrontation." Kenny nods in agreement, ghost of a smile crossing his lips. He's fingering his cigarettes, looking as if he's contemplating lighting another one. "Our boss knew that I was havin' a rough time with her gone, and he let it slip that she was here. I'm pretty sure he just wanted me to know that she was safe. But I was still drivin' everybody crazy, so they finally sent me home and I just...got on a plane and was on my way before I knew what I was doin'." He still can't quite believe it - the move is insane even for him. But it seems to have earned Kenny's approval, because he puts down the cigarettes and studies Danny straight on. Danny turns his head to look the other man in the eye.

"So she won't go on a date with you, but you'll fly across the country for her?" And there it is, laid out in black and white. Danny swallows a lump in his throat and knows with absolute certainty in this moment that he is one hundred percent head-over-heels in love with Lindsay Monroe.

"Yes," he chokes out. Kenny narrows his eyes, trying to ascertain if this new city boy is bullshitting him. He nods finally, turns back to face the horizon and withdraws a fresh cigarette. Danny stands and watches the small flare of light as he ignites the tip.

"You should know, she's got family in New York. All of us - we care about her a lot. We watch out for her. I know it's not the real thing, but we do what we can." Kenny clutches the second cigarette so tightly that Danny can see it bend between his fingers.

"Thank you," he breathes.

Danny leaves Kenny out on the porch and returns to his room. He closes the door softly, drops his jacket onto the chair in the corner, and flops back onto the bed. When he does so, however, instead of the soft mattress he lands on something warm and solid. He lets out a startled yelp and leaps to his feet. The lump shifts, rearranges, and he sees Lindsay peeking out from underneath the blankets.

"Shhh!" she hisses irritably. "Are you trying to wake up the whole house?"

"Are you tryin' to give me a heart attack?" he counters. "Jesus, Montana. What are you doin' in here?" She ducks her head bashfully, curls obscuring her face.

"I've had dreams every single night since it happened," she says softly. "Sometimes it's good dreams, where they're alive and we're happy, and sometimes it's nightmares. I just...wasn't sure if I was going to have one or not tonight, but I thought if I did...I wanted to be with you." That lump that he thought he had swallowed earlier returns, preventing coherent speech. He climbs into the bed beside her.

"Get over here," he manages. Lindsay stretches out fully beside him, every inch of her making contact. Danny's skin is on fire, but he fans the flames by cuddling closer, letting her hand trail across his clavicle. She sighs contentedly, breath skimming his chest, and he measures each one until he feels them slow.

She sleeps soundly through the night.

When he awakens, Danny can barely move. He has unwittingly become part of a massive jumble of limbs and bedsheets, but as he regains consciousness he finds that he has no complaints in the matter. Lindsay is soft and warm in sleep, curls in wild disarray across the pillow. He brushes them away from her face and she nuzzles against his hand as she pries her eyes open. When she sees him looking down at her she smiles shyly.

"Hi," she murmurs, quiet and child-like. She pauses, then her eyes drift closed again and her fingers begin traversing the skin of his chest, pausing to pat his pectoral muscle, squeeze his bicep. Danny chuckles.

"What are you doin', crazy girl?" She hums softly, eyes still closed.

"Just making sure you're still here." Danny catches her hand, intertwining their fingers.

"Hey. Open your eyes." Lindsay follows his instruction hesitantly, but her eyes, when they open, speak absolute trust. Danny shifts closer on the pillow and nudges her nose with his. "I told you yesterday, I'm not goin' anywhere. I mean that, Lindsay. And it's not gonna change when we get back to New York either. You're stuck with me." He raises their clasped hands and presses a kiss to Lindsay's inner wrist, feeling her pulse pound beneath the skin. She slides her fingers out of his, only to cup the back of his head in a desperate attempt to pull herself closer. The morning sun is streaming through the window, making her hair shine like a halo around her face as Danny takes her by the hips to align their bodies against one another. Lindsay slides both of her arms around his neck and hugs him fiercely.

"My flight leaves soon," she says. His thumbs trace rough, imperfect circles across her hipbones.

"I'll see if they can't put me on the same one." Her fingers are twisting in his hair, sending sparks shooting down his spine. He can't smother his groan. "You keep doin' that, Montana, and I'm not gonna be held responsible for my actions." She laughs, her throat vibrating with the sound. Danny feels his entire body respond, but he clenches his jaw and reminds himself that he is not allowed to screw this one up.

"Threat or promise?" she whispers, teeth nipping at his ear. The sound that escapes him now can only be described as a squeak - and a very undignified one at that. Danny disentangles himself from her arms and tries to place some distance between them.

"Hey, I'm serious here - I've been about as much of as a gentleman as I can be." Lindsay giggles. "What?" he demands indignantly. She reaches across to ruffle his hair.

"Gentleman is not a term I'd usually use to describe you, Detective Messer," she teases. Danny scowls and kicks her shin. "Hey, I was going to say that you look kind of sexy without the glasses, but if you want to keep hitting me..."

"What, just kinda sexy?" he responds dryly. Lindsay bites her bottom lip. She runs a hand across his cheek, scratching against the two-day-old stubble.

"No. More than kinda," she admits. Her teeth gnaw at the flesh trapped between them. There's a moment of heady silence, broken only by shallow breaths and thumping hearts, and then she pounces. Danny knows no other way to describe it - she simply launches her entire body at him, lips smashing hard against his, and he accepts her kisses greedily. Once, twice, three times, holding on the fourth. The embrace grows heated quite quickly, and Danny rolls them over so that he's pressing her into the mattress. Her hands clutch at his shoulders, scrabbling for purchase. When he feels himself running out of air, he pulls back, gasping. Lindsay regains her breath as well and begins giggling furiously. Danny quirks an eyebrow and her lips find his ear.

"Boom," she murmurs.

Lindsay has two bags, Danny none, and Jack tosses them into the back of Stevie's truck with a grunt. Goodbyes are said on the porch, but the day's chores still need to be done so only Kenny will accompany them to the airport. The men are stone-faced, though Danny sees the dismay written in the slump of their shoulders. Lindsay hugs and kisses each of them in turn, ending with her mother. Stevie is struggling to remain stoic, but tears are leaking from her eyes nonetheless. She clings to her daughter and murmurs words into her hair that Danny cannot discern.

"Take this with you," she sniffs finally, shoving a Tupperware container stuffed with last night's leftovers into Lindsay's hands. Danny's pretty sure the food isn't going to make it back to New York unharmed, but he says nothing. Dallas has less tact.

"What are they gonna do with that, Stevie?" he says exasperatedly. "It'll be cold by the time they get to the airport and spoiled by the time they get home."

"So they'll eat it before they get on the plane!" she snaps hotly. Pablo punches his buddy in the arm.

"Ignore him, he just wants more for himself." Lindsay smiles fondly, but there are no tears in her eyes. Danny can't help but notice that her stride is lighter, her smile brighter. Montana will always be home, but she's so full of energy that she looks like her chest might burst, and he wants to be there to watch her tackle the city full-on.

The drive is silent. Lindsay is squeezed in between Kenny and Danny, holding both of their hands as they traverse the countryside into civilization. The airport is no JFK International, but security measures are still in place and Kenny knows that he won't be able to accompany them very far past the doors. Under the canopy shading the drop-off lane, he hands Lindsay her bags (which Danny takes, much to her annoyance) and pulls his little sister into another bone-crushing hug.

"You look out for yourself, you hear?" he demands more than asks. Lindsay rolls her eyes and Kenny shifts his attention to Danny. "And you, you look out for her when she doesn't do it herself." Danny nods.

"Got it covered." The two men shake hands, and Danny smirks at Lindsay's look of bewilderment. Kenny turns once more to his sister, choking on his words. Helpful as always, Lindsay punches him in the arm.

"Pony up, cowboy," she commands. Kenny swats her shoulder and turns back to the pickup. From the bed, he withdraws Lindsay's hat and sets it gently atop her head.

"Okay, make tracks. Next time I see you out here I want you to be all smiles." He glances back over to Danny. "This guy can come too. He's all right by us." Lindsay takes the sentiment to heart, leaning into Danny as her brother pulls away from the curb. When his truck is out of their line of sight, Danny tugs at the brim of her hat.

"Just you and me now, Montana," he says. She smiles up at him, lacing their fingers together.

"Sounds good to me."

The food is indeed cold by the time they check Lindsay's luggage and arrive at the gate, but it's every bit as delicious as it was the night before. They pass the Thermos of lemonade back and forth and Danny marvels at both how much and how little has changed. They still squabble over who gets the last bite of potatoes, but now he can use his lips in much more interesting ways to win the argument. And when the adrenaline rush of the last few days finally starts to wind down and his head grows heavy, he can rest it in the curve of her neck and let her heartbeat lull him to sleep.

He doesn't resurface until the plane is touching down in Queens. His head is still on her shoulder and she looks up from her magazine when she feels him shift against her.

"Hey you," she says. She unbuckles her seatbelt as the passengers around them shuffle into a barely-moving line and battle with unwieldy suitcases tucked into overhead bins. Pushing the armrest out of the way, Lindsay settles herself against him. Danny yawns and threads an arm around her waist.

"Feels good to be home," she murmurs. He knows that she means home as in New York, but in the past two days he has begun to redefine the word as this space right here between her arms. He pulls her close and kisses the top of her head all the same.

"Yeah," he agrees. "It does."

Mac calls Lindsay's phone as they're hailing a cab. Only moments later, Danny's rings as well, Stella's name flashing across the LED screen.

"What's up, Bonasera?"

"DB, west side of the Brooklyn Bridge. Could be a hanging, could be murder." Stella's clipped tone is formal, businesslike, and causes Danny to sigh. The real world is officially creeping back in.

"Fantastic. I'll see you in a bit." Lindsay's face is twisted up in annoyance, and Danny discerns that she's been called in as well. "Brooklyn jumper with Stel?" he asks. She shakes her head.

"Dry-land drowning in Staten Island with Mac." A taxi finally pulls up to the curb and they pile into the backseat with the bags. Lindsay presses open-mouthed kisses to the junction of his neck and shoulder. "And I had such plans for tonight too," she murmurs. Danny groans.

"You're a tease, Montana," he complains, slipping fingers beneath her t-shirt. She moves up to his mouth, knocking off her hat in her eagerness. "I hope you're planning on wearing that to the scene," he says. Lindsay laughs.

"Still tired?" she asks, passing a concerned hand over his brow ridge. Danny marvels at how easily the light touch soothes him.

"Yeah," he murmurs. "Gonna be a long night."

"Well hey, this cab ride will take...what, fifteen minutes?" She waggles her eyebrows. "Sounds like a good chunk of time to me."

This woman is going to be the death of him. Cupping his hands around the curve of her rear, Danny draws her flush up against him and prepares to make the most of their time.

Fourteen minutes, forty-nine seconds, and counting.

His prediction is quite correct; it's a long night. Stella is on the warpath after being left short-handed for the past two days, and the amount of trace is absolutely off the charts - cigarette butts, food wrappers, tire treads... He's surprised she doesn't have him diving down to the base of the East River to search for clues in what is quite clearly, in his mind, a suicide. They're both tense and irritable, and knowing each other so long and so well means they know exactly which buttons to push. They snap and bicker from the moment Danny arrives on the scene, their notoriously short-fused tempers finally erupting in the form of a screaming match in the ballistics lab. Danny grabs the file folder and stalks back to his office to run the treads. As he passes through the hallway, he scrubs a weary hand across his jaw and wishes he were back in Bozeman, Lindsay spread beneath him in the warm bed.

He passed Mac on his way inside, so he knows that Lindsay is back from the scene. Their office only confirms this - her purse is on the desk, her lab coat missing from the rack. It boosts his spirits slightly knowing that she's in the building, but there's so much work to be done on both of their ends that there's no telling how long it will be before they see each other. Danny clenches his teeth and maneuvers around the desk to the computer.

There's something in his chair. Frowning, he rolls it back from the desk to reveal Lindsay's cowboy hat. There's a note pinned to the brim:

Save some strength for later, partner.

Danny laughs out loud, tension draining from his shoulders. He slaps the hat onto his head, where it remains until he shows up at her door late the next afternoon and she removes it herself.