The Sailor and The Nurse

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Spoilers for Sleight Out of Hand

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"-And I ask that you find the defendant, Daniel Cadence, guilty of Murder in the First Degree. Take a good look at Sarah Graham's father. Emily Norton's mom and dad. Kellie Kennedy's parents. Rachel Foley's nieces and nephews. Look at Lindsay Monroe. They've suffered too long already. All I ask, we ask, is that you, the jury, put this man behind bars where he belongs. You alone have the power to end the nightmare Daniel Cadence has caused."

The formalities that are recited as the jury is excused to deliberation were white noise in Danny Messer's ear. As the jury filed out, Danny stood, placing his hand at the small of Lindsay's back, taking a step closer to her as the man in the gray suit turned in the officers' grasp, sneering in Lindsay's direction. Briefly he saw the panic flick through her, the fear Daniel Cadence had caused burning in her eyes.

Lindsay felt Danny move his hand from the small of her back to her shoulder, kneading her tense muscles for only a second, refocusing her attention to him, distracting her from the daunting hatred across the room. He was safe. Home. She'd been struggling, drowning in country. He was enough city to keep her grounded. The quiet worry in his eye kept her from losing herself.

"Let's get some air." His accent was thick against her ear, and she nodded, smiling faintly. He pushed open the door of the courtroom, shoving his hand in his pocket, flashing her a reassuring smile as her fingers curled around his bicep securely. They had almost made it out of the corridor when a man called out to Lindsay, stopping her in her tracks.

A lean man in his early forties waved, jogging a few steps to catch up to them. Danny saw the hesitant recognition smattered across her features, and she made a few careful steps back toward him, walking from Danny's grasp to the other man's embrace. Danny adjusted the frames of his glasses, crossing his arms over his chest, watching Lindsay untangle herself from the man before stepping up to him. She reached for him, offering him an apology in the form of a kindly smile.

"This is my partner, Danny Messer." Lindsay spoke politely to the other man before turning to him. "Dan, This is Rachel Foley's brother, Jeff." Danny stepped closer, offering the older man his hand.

"Nice t'meet you." Danny regarded Jeff Foley with a somber expression, feeling Lindsay's fingers along his side; intimate, but discreet. "I'm sorry about your sister." Lindsay watched as Jeff Foley regarded Danny with a steely, unsure expression.

"Thank you, Detective." Jeff Foley glanced at Lindsay, as he ran a hand through his blonde hair. "You're from New York." It was a statement more than anything, but Danny nodded.

"Staten Island."

"Here I was thinking Lindsay had an accent." There was the faintest hint of a smile grazing Jeff's features. "Being her partner, you've got her back out there, in the streets?" Lindsay started to protest, but Danny understood where Jeff was going.

"Mostly she's got mine."

"Thank you for keeping her safe. Without her testimony, there wouldn't have been a conviction. So Mr. Donaldson tells us." The tears flooded his eyes quickly, and he turned to Lindsay, hugging her again, fiercely before excusing himself, shaking Danny's hand again cordially before making his way back down the corridor. Danny slipped a hand along her shoulder, kneading the tension at the base of her neck gently, allowing for her to slide easily into his embrace, taking care to not to grip her too tightly, listening to her resolve break.

"I'm sorry." She mumbled into his shoulder, but he only pressed a kiss to her hair in response.

"S'okay. I got you." He waited for her to regain control over her feelings before pulling away to catch her eye, brushing a tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "This place got a back door, Monroe?" She smiled, rubbing her eyes and nodding.

" Yeah. Through there." She gestured to the door marked 'Maintenance' at the end of the hall. At his amused smirk, she rolled her eyes. "The CSOs like to mess with the Prosecutors. Long story."

Hours later, Lindsay felt Danny's concerned gaze on her as she slowed her father's archaic truck to a stop.

"This some country ritual?" Danny arched an eyebrow at Lindsay as she pushed the shifter of the beat up pick-up truck into first, yanking up the emergency break with a practiced ease and killing the engine. She smiled faintly at him, wrapping her hand securely around the thermos that had sat between them on the seat, swinging open the driver's side door and jumping out.

"Something like that." He chuckled as she shut the door, moving out of his line of sight towards the back of the truck. He followed, gathering the few thick, worn blankets she had pilfered from the hall closet in her parents' house, climbing out of the passenger side. He leaned over the siding of the truck bed, an amused grin hanging on his jaw as he watched her scale the other side, taking a moment to settle his concerns about the after burn of the trial.

She had thrown her wavy curls into a haphazard ponytail, had emerged from her childhood bedroom donning worn out jeans and a University of Montana hoodie only an hour before. He leaned against the side of the truck, watching her lay out the heavier of the blankets, arranging the contents of the old pick-up to be more conducive to two adults. Danny smiled softly, relieved to see her relaxing, of only a bit. When she had finished, Lindsay straightened, smirking at him.

"If you're gonna see a wheat field, Messer, you might as well do it like a local." She nodded her head toward the bed of the truck. "Dan?" For the first time, Danny glanced out past the far end of the truck bed, noticing the short cliff, and below it, what he assumed was about a dozen or so acres of what would have been wheat stalks, had they not been out in February. Fortunately, it had been a mild winter, and the sun was burning flat into the horizon, emanating a fiery pink and orange hue.

Whoa.

"Do I need to show you how to climb up on a wheel well?" There was a hint of teasing in her voice that he hadn't heard in months, causing him to grin.

"Nah, we got pick-ups out on the Island, Monroe." He climbed over the side easily, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose as he sat down beside her, relaxing against the soft, worn wool and the back of the cabin, casting his gaze out to the sunset. Lindsay watched as he kicked off his shoes, pushing them against the siding. He caught her confused gaze, breaking into a gentle grin.

"What're you doing?"

"When in Rome." He shrugged, resting the back of his head against the cool metal, letting her soft laugh ease his nerves. It was just the two of them. No city. No crime scenes. No reputations. They didn't have to be Detectives Messer and Monroe with the NYPD. For the first time in a handful of months, he was finally able to breathe.

He didn't bother stopping the lopsided grin that had spread across his features as she took a hold of his hand, gripping his fingers snugly with hers. He'd fallen in love with the feel of her hand in his, even after such a short time. They sat in the back of the truck in comfortable silence, taking in the view. After a few minutes, Danny spoke again, quietly.

"You alright?" Her fingers rubbed against his a few times, and he tightened his grip.

"Yeah." She sighed, pulling his hand to come to rest against her stomach, leaning against his arm. Danny's gaze didn't stray from the setting sun as he responded, moving his fingers to her thigh, touching idly along a few inches of the inseam of her jeans. She let go of his hand, curling each of hers around his bicep and his elbow, leaning in to him companionably. Finally, he tore his gaze away from the field, pressing a delicate kiss to her hair.

"I'm proud of you."

"I was terrified." She mumbled into the sleeve of his jacket, tugging at his heart.

"You did well."

"Thank you." The quiet, even tone of her voice wavered, and he shifted to catch her eye. "You know, for coming."

"I was losin' my mind, Linds. I didn't want to lose you, too." His accent thickened gently, making her smile, his words pulling at her heart. She began to retort, but he threw her an amused smirk, and leaned back again, turning his attention back to the wheat field, his fingers returning to her thigh. "You know, I've never actually been in the back of a pick-up before."

"Really." He bit back a chuckle at the amusement in her voice. "That I don't buy."

"God honest truth. We city folk tend to stick to backseats and dingy hotel rooms." She laughed, and he ran his thumb over the inseam of her jeans nonchalantly.

"No sunset in that."

"No wheat fields, either." The husky quality of his voice along with the even, slight heat of his hand made her shiver against his side. He sat up, leaning over her, reaching across her body and untangling one of the extra blankets, spreading the worn, faded fabric to cover both their bodies. He abandoned the blanket at the feel of her fingers at the base of his neck, twisting to give her his full attention. "I thought you were cold." His grin widened as she shook her head, curls escaping in stands and tendrils from her lazy ponytail.

He reached over, pushing a stray curl from her face and meeting her gaze for a split second before turning away, reaching over her body again, lacing his fingers in hers, and bringing their hands to rest in her lap, his knuckles against the waist band of her jeans. Danny leaned down, pressing a slow, delicate kiss to the back of her hand, his goatee scratching her skin lightly. He gripped her fingers tightly, succumbing to the feel of her hand in his hair, leaning his forehead against hers.

"I won't set the pace, Linds." He lowered his voice to a whisper, pulling away just enough to search her expression for hesitancy. She bit her lip, watching as the blue of his eyes darkened, a deep royal in the shadows of the cadenza of the sunset behind them.

"Okay." She curled her fingers around his neck, pulling him to her, touching her lips to his in a softened display of affection. He returned her pressure, shifting and running his tongue along her lips and parting them, waiting for her to give him permission. She shook her fingers free of his, cradling his unshaven jaw with both hands, deepening their kiss, sitting up to meet him. She felt him pull away, only to turn his kisses south, along the underside of her jaw for only a moment before pulling back again, kissing her sweetly before trying to speak against her.

"Linds-"

"We're in the business of discovering truths, Danny. Our secrets were bound to surface sometime." He gave a short laugh, her reasoning putting him at ease. Suddenly, her eyes widened, and she frowned at him. "Does Mac know you're out here?"

"Kill the mood, Montana." He groaned, sitting up and adjusting his glasses on his nose. "I had the day off. He sent me home. I called out for tomorrow when I landed, but I didn't want to jinx anything."

"Superstitious."

"Baseball player."

"You look tired." She spoke quietly as she sifted a hand through his hair, smiling faintly as he reacted instantly, leaning into her touch.

"I've been on a steady diet'a double shifts, while you've been out."

"I'm sorry, I know I had to leave short notice-"

"Nah, we had shift covered. I just." He paused, finding he words as the last bits of sunlight disappearing behind the empty stubbles of last spring's crop of wheat. "Had to stay busy." He smiled sheepishly at her, the tinge of pink in his cheeks evident, despite the darkened sky. Danny sat back again, unable to stop the worried frown from gracing his features as he nodded his head to the side, silently asking for contact long overdue. He was surprised at how easily she fit into him.

Lindsay climbed dejectedly into his lap, melting into him, laying her head in the crook of his neck. He made it so easy to love him, without ever meaning to. She curled an arm around the small of his back, stifling a small smile as he shifted, leaning one knee along her back, the other resting over her thigh, shielding her from everything with a casual strength she'd become addicted to. She watched the gentle, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, thankful that he had come. Her fingers idly traced the skin of his abdomen, feeling the muscles react beneath her touch.

Danny wrapped an arm around Lindsay's shoulders, content to carry out the rest of his life in the back of Jeb Monroe's dusty old pick-up truck. He reached over her small frame, pulling the faded woolen blanket tighter around her as even the faintest stars in the country sky started to become visible. He wanted nothing more than to flip her on her back, drench her in kisses, convince her that the affection he felt for her was real, that he'd never leave her.

That she could trust him.

"What do we do back home?" She mumbled, snuggling closer as the wind blew. There it was. He'd been wondering it himself. The city was a part of what they had, whether they wanted it to be or not. He chuckled, realizing it was the second time he'd heard her call his city home.

"I don't think Mac'll have a moral issue or anything." He smiled, feeling her soft laugh barrel through his body, causing a warm pressure in his chest. After a moment, he pried gently. "What did you have in mind?" He leaned his head away from hers, catching her eye.

"I don't know." She sounded strained, and he recognized the beginning stages of worry flake across her face.

"It's okay, Linds. We can say whatever we want, whenever we're ready." He cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses before covering her hand with his. "We don't hafta say anything at all."

"Let's go with that one." Lindsay's words were muffled against his chest, making him smile, tightening his grip on her fingers, nodding in agreement.

"I don't think it matters where we are. Your hand will always fit in mine."