A Scent of Green

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Part One

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Lindsay leaned against the cabinets, perched comfortably on the counter beside the stove, watching Danny flip pancakes casually. She loved Saturday mornings.

Actually, more than loving the day itself, she loved the sight of Danny Messer cooking breakfast in her kitchen in his underwear, dishtowel thrown haphazardly over his shoulder, hair sticking up in a few unruly spikes, the stubble on his jaw making his goatee less pronounced, not that she wasn't somewhat unreasonably satisfied with its existence at all…she was. It made him look like he was perpetually climbing out of bed with no time to shave like a normal human being. It made her breath hitch in her throat; caused a heated pressure in her hips. It scraped her skin wherever it touched, leaving her lips raw after a few too many kisses, the skin along her collarbone pink after he had given it careful attention. She loved that goatee.

She bit her lip, swinging her leg out to brush against his thigh, giving him a smile when he glanced in her direction. He jostled one of the pancakes loose from the pan, flipping it over with a sizzling thud before leaning over her lap and catching her bottom lip between both of his, pressing a gentle, calculated display of affection to her lips before pulling away and flipping the pancakes from the skillet to the plate on the other side of the stovetop.

She watched his gaze sweep over her appearance uninhibitedly, not bothering to be slick or secretive, chuckling at the graceful arch of her eyebrow when his eyes reached hers. He poured blobs of batter into the pan, sighing happily as it crackled in the pan.

"What?" She smirked, amused, as he eyed the half dozen unfastened buttons of the oxford shirt he had worn to court yesterday morning. It was large on her slim frame; the open collar had slipped off her shoulder, nonchalantly concealing her body.

"I just decided I like you in my work shirts and your underwear." He flashed her a friendly smirk, and checked the edges of a pancake, letting it flop unceremoniously back into the pan.

"Well I've decided I like you in my kitchen in your underwear." There was a faint knock on her front door, and she slipped off the counter, frowning in its general direction.

"Hope that's not your boyfriend or anything." He called after her, earning him a smile as she rolled her eyes.

"You're hilarious." He laughed to himself as he watched her disappear around the corner into the living room, tossing a handful of disheveled waves over her shoulder. She swung open the door to find Mr. Reynolds, her portly, elderly neighbor down the hall, holding out a few pieces of mail.

"These were in my box, thought you'd want them." He handed them to her, and smiled. "Have a nice day."

"Thanks, you too." Lindsay shuffled through the handful of letters Mr. Reynolds had given her, shutting the door closed with her foot, and retreating back to the kitchen.

"Who was that?" Danny manhandled the last of the pancakes out of the pan, dropping the skillet into the sink, and handling Lindsay a plate with an offhandedly-piled stack of breakfast.

"Mr. Reynolds, some mail…Shit." Danny frowned, looking over her shoulder as she sat at the little table, eye caught on a delicate, pastel card that had come out of a decidedly feminine envelope.

"What?" He read over her shoulder briefly before sliding into the vacant chair, and stabbing his stack of pancakes. "Who's getting married?"

"My good friend, Rose." Lindsay tossed the invitation onto the table, giving Danny an apologetic smile. "We were the best of friends all throughout school. She left a message on my voice mail, asking me to be a bridesmaid. I've been avoiding her, actually. I don't want to go."

"Bridesmaid, huh? Isn't that a big deal?" Danny settled back in his chair, taking a bite of chocolate chip pancake, never straying his attention from her features. When his sister married Carlo, every third word out of her mouth had been about the bridesmaids. And flowers. After that, he had stopped listening.

"Yeah." She took a bite of the pancakes he had made, sighing at the invitation. The coffeemaker beeped, and she stood, pulling the steaming decanter off of its stand, and walking the few steps back to the table, pouring black coffee into her mug, and then his. He slipped a hand beneath the hem of the shirt, running his fingers along the small of her back, pulling her towards him. She arched an eyebrow at him, but didn't pull away, instead stepping closer, with a leg on either side of his thigh, half empty coffee pot still in her hand. He tilted his head up to her, and she bent, touching a number of gentle, sweet kisses to his lips. He pulled her closer still, and she set down the coffee pot, in favor of removing his glasses, and sitting comfortably on his leg, wrapping her arms companionably around his shoulders, smiling as he pressed a few kisses to her collarbone.

"Why don't you want to go?" His inquiry was quiet, mumbled softly against her skin. Lindsay chuckled, reaching across the table to drag her plate of pancakes to sit beside his. He frowned, waiting for her to give him an excuse. "Linds."

"I'd just assume not pour salt in those particular wounds." He propped his head up on his elbow, waiting again for her to continue, accepting the bite of breakfast she speared onto a fork and held out for him. "I love my home."

"But."

"But I'm a different person now." She sighed, and he took a sip of black coffee, running his fingers up and down her back soothingly. "I didn't marry the first guy I slept with, I didn't want to pop out three kids by the time I turned thirty. I don't work on a farm."

"What should they care if you don't work on a farm? I don't even know anybody who works on a farm."

"There aren't many farms in New York City, Detective."

"You're a riot." He smiled, amused by their banter. "Seriously, Mac'll let you off. Mac'll let both of us off. Cases have been lighter, thanks to the night shift, and you and I both have weeks and weeks of vacation days saved up." The bottom of Lindsay's lip plumped out into a childish pout. "What?" He had thought his reasoning was sound.

"I thought we were saving them up for a rainy day."

"Baby, if we get eight straight weeks of rainy days to use our vacation days on, we're gonna end up working because of the flood." She laughed, dropping a slow, affectionate kiss to his lips, cradling his scruffy, unshaven jaw with her fingers.

"I'll think about it." She mumbled against his lip, making him smile.

"Yeah? Cause I'd really love to see you in a dress." He paused, kissing her sweetly. "I'd like to take you out of one, as well." She rolled her eyes at his mischievous smile.

TBC