Disclaimer: Characters borrowed from CBS, I did not create them nor do I own them. This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to places, events, or people – living or dead – is simply a freaky coincidence. If rash or irritation develops, discontinue immediately and consult your physician. May contain peanuts.

AN: This has been written for several weeks and I finally got the nerve to post it. It is what my lively imagination produced after watching 'Trapped'. Mostly Fluff, meant to focus on details. Will be limited to about 4 parts.

Thanks to my fellow D/L Shippers for the inspiration and encouragement. And for making me feel less crazy at times! Please review – but be kind, this is my first fic and I'm a whimp.
CH 1 is short but meant to be an appetizer. Bon appétit!

The soft sounds of traffic on the early morning streets began to whisper Lindsay Monroe out of a deep sleep. She enjoyed these moments of being not quite awake, with her eyes still closed. She felt warm and safe, away from the tension of work. It had not taken her long to adjust to the constant noises of New York. Growing up, she lived miles from the nearest town. Nighttimes were filled with silence, occasionally punctuated by crickets or a random coyote. That's why she was surprised that such alien sounds could now rock her to sleep each night. What an irony that she had at last found peace - in the city. But this morning, even to a semi-conscious Lindsay, something felt strangely different.

Her body was sore and ached all over. Her neck was stiff, and her muscles felt raw from exertion. She tried to remember if she had perhaps gone jogging the night before, but her brain felt too fuzzy to recall anything. She hoped she was not getting sick. With less than three months on the job, she couldn't exactly ask Mac for time off. With that thought, Lindsay tried harder to will herself awake.

As her body became more aware, and her mind became more alert, she sensed a weight over her legs. Something was pinning her down. Like another leg, only heavier, draped over both of hers. Opening one heavy eyelid at a time, the first thing she saw was an arm slung over her stomach – muscular and toned, with a tattoo on the bicep.

It can't be, she thought.

Lindsay's eyes scanned her usually pristine bedroom. Even in the dim grayness, she could see the disarray. Her alarm clock was lying upside down on the floor, and a lamp had been toppled over. A stereo speaker dangled dangerously off her desk. A pillar candle, not extinguished the night before, had burned completely down. Clothes littered the floor, including her robe and what appeared to be men's clothing. Something metallic glinted in the faint light. Lindsay realized it was a badge.

A badge!

In that instant, like a tidal wave, the memory of the past night washed over her. Slowly, slowly, Lindsay turned her head to the side.

And came face to face with a sleeping Danny Messer.