Disclaimer: these characters do not belong to me, however, I do have visitation rights. Any legal concerns should be addressed to my muse.

Rating: K+, for now at least

Author's Note: Caution: extreme sap ahead. Don your boots! If you do not like sappy fluff, now is your chance to turn around and head back the way you came. Run, don't walk. This fic was meant to explore the day-to-day ups and down of relationships, but will maintain a fluffy idealism throughout. It's me we're talking about, remember, so don't expect angst. Although it addresses "Snow Day" initially, it is not a post-episode fic. Will be complete in about seven parts.

Learning - Part I

Full Strawberry Moon

He had paid some homeless guy twenty bucks for this.

Twenty bucks to hold the spot; to watch over the picnic basket and blanket, to make sure no one made themselves at home, or stole the bottle of wine. Hey, the wine itself cost more than he would ever have imagined spending a year ago.

But it was all for her.

And it was worth it, too. Watching that smile light up Lindsay's face as they walked across the grass, her small, soft hand gripping his, that was all Danny needed. Pure and simple, at long last, she was his. Life, he figured, could not get any better. It had been like this since that first glorious morning he had woken up with her beside him, his back stiff from the pool table but his heart soft as mush. He had arrived to the lab late that day, not because he overslept, but because he couldn't tear his eyes from her. For twenty minutes, he just stood there at his kitchen counter, grinning like a fool, watching her slumber. His Montana was finally his. The waiting, the heartbreak, it has all been worth it. Deep down, even when she had turned away, he had always known not to give up on her. He had been right all along, to see this through, and now he couldn't imagine having to wake up without her.

Not that it had been smooth sailing since that fine morning. Fate had tried to throw them for a loop. The first night after the warehouse incident, she had stayed with him—her first time in his bed, ironically. They slept huddled together, he gritting his teeth from the pain. He was too stubborn to rely on the prescription drugs sent home with him. He had seen what happened when people got hooked on that stuff, how messed up they got. So he tried to divert his mind from the pain by counting her breaths, watching the moonlight shift over her body as the hours progressed. In the following days, her beauty was the poultice to his pain. She didn't mother him, or attempt to help unless he asked. Quietly and firmly, she was just there. For months it had been all he could do for her, his presence softly in the background, lighting her way. Now she was returning the favor.

For almost a week after Danny's injury, sleep was all they could do. Six days passed before frustration and longing overcame caution and hesitance. Three times on the pool table had only whetted their appetites, and they were hungry for more of each other. It was an endeavor that was awkward and full of shy laughter as they tried to maneuver around his cast. Despite Lindsay thwacking her arm on it more than once, it had been everything he needed. Only then did he feel the healing process truly begin. His hand was getting better slowly, the bones becoming as solidly fused as their relationship.

Now here they were, arriving at the picnic spot he had set up, the perfect vantage point to watch the fireworks.

On top of the blue down blanket lay a bundle of flowers, tied with a gingham ribbon. "These look familiar," Lindsay laughed, kicking off her flip-flops and sitting down. They were daisies: classy and feminine, subtle yet a little wild. To Danny, no other flower could symbolize her better. He plopped down next to her, smiling as she investigated the contents of the picnic basket. He loved watching her—it amazed him how just one person added to his life could make him this happy, this content. His heart swelled with joy.

"What's in here?" she murmured curiously. "Wine… cherries… ooh, chocolate-cheesecake fudge!"

"How'd the apartment hunt go today?" Danny inquired, as she continued inspecting the treasures. While he had been arranging this special outing, Lindsay had spent her day walking all over the city, searching for a new place to live.

"I had no luck at all," she moaned. "Every place I looked at was either too expensive, too dirty, too close to a construction site, or all of the above."

"Why isn't your lease being renewed?"

"My landlord is selling out," she explained, licking melty fudge from the tips of her fingers. "The building is being turned into a hotel."

He smiled easily. "Something will turn up, I'm sure. Don't stress yourself out, kiddo."

"You're right, let's just enjoy our night. This was so sweet of you." She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his face to hers, thanking him with a deep, chocolatey kiss.

He loved kissing her. With women in his past, kissing had always been rushed, simply a means to get further. But with Lindsay, he could kiss her for hours, slow and sensual, and get lost in it. Sadly, there was no time for this tonight. "You know," he said, pulling away reluctantly, "we should probably open the wine. The fireworks will start in a little while." He presented the bottle to Lindsay for approval.

"I'm impressed," she said, raising an eyebrow as she read the label aloud. "Alphonse Mellot Pinot Noir. 2003 vintage. Nice pick."

"Not exactly a Suzie-Q, or whatever it was, but I wanted it to be something special."

She laughed. "Chateau Suzanne, you mean. And this is perfect." She passed it back to Danny for uncorking, then they filled the plastic wine goblets and toasted each other.

They picnicked until they could eat or drink no more, the setting sun casting an amber-bronze glow over the park. Lindsay lay on her back, Danny propped up on his elbow next to her, his arm draped over her stomach. He fingered the silky fabric of her shirt, then ran his fingers over the smooth, pale skin that peeped out.

"You did all this for me… but really, I owe you," she said thoughtfully, twirling a cherry stem between her teeth.

"You owe me for what?"

"Oh, gee, I don't know. Incredible patience. Forgiveness. A round-trip plane ticket to Montana. Everything I put you through."

Danny frowned. He wasn't going to allow her silly, nagging, unnecessary guilt put a damper on her enjoyment tonight. "It's not like that," he sighed. "It's not about settling debts or getting something back. I did it because I care about you. There is no where else I'd rather be." Besides, the way he figured, he had benefited infinitely in the happiness department—he certainly hadn't come out empty handed. That plane ticket was the single best investment he had ever made.

She sighed sadly. "And you almost lost your hand."

With his still sore but functional hand, he reached over and took hers. In a way, she had saved his life that day. Reliving the previous night in his mind had given him the courage to keep fighting. Over the blood and the pain and the fear, he could still smell her hair and feel the warmth of her skin against his. He had everything he ever wanted, and those goons sure weren't going to take it away from him.

He kissed her fingertips, slowly, allowing each one to linger on his lips. "Stop," he murmured; part command, part request.

"I know, I know." Lindsay was quiet for a moment, humbled perhaps, then she changed the subject. "So, why do they have fireworks four days before the Fourth of July?" she asked, mussing his hair with her fingers.

"Tradition," he replied. "It's always the Saturday before the Fourth."

She pointed to the western sky. "Look! A full moon. The one in June is called a Full Strawberry Moon. When we were kids in Montana, we always went berry picking that night."

He smiled, leaning over to place a gentle kiss on her neck. He loved the little stories and tidbits she shared, little anecdotes dropped here and there for him to gather up and treasure. He always felt as though he couldn't get enough of her, as if learning every detail could somehow make up for the lackluster years before she came into his life. Which was why, he suddenly realized, he didn't want to spend a single minute apart from her anymore.

It took him a few moments to gather the courage to say it. He would open his mouth, then close it before uttering a single syllable.

She noticed his odd expression, and eyed him strangely. "Danny? Did you swallow a bug?"

"How do you feel about being crazy and spontaneous?" he finally forced out.

Lindsay beamed. "I love crazy and spontaneous. What did you have in mind?"

"Moveinwithme."

She sat up straight, nearly breaking his nose in the process. "What?"

"Move in with me."

She settled back down on the blanket, taking his arm, caressing his skin thoughtfully. "Wow," she said. "I mean, that's big."

"It would solve both our problems," he pointed out.

"Well, my problem," Lindsay admitted. "I need a place to live. But what's your problem?"

"I'm lonely."

She smiled, but them a wrinkle of concern creased her forehead. "Danny, what if we get tired of each other?"

Her question was honest and innocent, but Danny couldn't have found anything more hilarious. He burst into laughter.

"I'm serious," she prodded. "Right now, things are amazing. But what happens when we get used to each other, take each other for granted? What if I spill orange juice on the floor, or you put my silk shirt in the dryer?"

He was ready for this argument. "I have a mop. And I always read garment care labels." He reached over and touched her face, making her look at him. "Lindsay, we can do this. We'll take it one step at a time. Together. It will be a learning process."

Before she could reply, a whistling followed by a crack made them both jump slightly. The fireworks had begun. Purple and yellow dazzled the sky. They watched for a few minutes, as each color exploded, then faded, and another one took its place.

Lindsay leaned over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Yes," she said in his ear.

"What?"

"Yes."

"You mean that?"

"Yes!" she laughed, exasperated.

Danny grinned, hardly believing his luck. They snuggled against each other, watching the rest of the display. Their life together was going to be like this from now on, he knew: surprises, some startling, but always beautiful. He remembered a criminology seminar he had attended a few years back, where a psychotherapist had explained how strong emotions could register on a brain scan. The speaker had put films up on the overhead projector, showing an example of a convicted killer's brain; acute, severe spots of color springing up as a result of rage. Danny wondered if it was the same way for people in love—if the feelings were just as chemical as they were emotional, a pulsing current in the mind that could actually be traced and proven. He imagined it would look a lot like the fireworks above them. As he gazed at Lindsay there beside him, he could almost see the brilliant, sparkling pops of orange and blue and red, fueled by his heart, firing off in his head.