Spoilers for "Child's Play" and "All in the Family".

Disclaimer: All characters belong to CBS and their creators at CSI:NY.

A/N: This is the final chapter. Thank you so much to all those who have read, reviewed and, I hope, enjoyed the story. I have been blown away by the incredible response.

I may stay in this universe for a follow-up, so keep your eyes open!

Chapter 7

'Come, mamma! come! Quick! follow me!

'Step out on the leaves of the water-lily!'

"Lindsay. Lindsay Monroe. I'm not leaving until you talk to me."

The voice sounded determined. Lindsay crept a little closer to the door, but could not muster up the energy to stand. She wrapped the afghan closer around her shivering body, as if she could hold the pieces of her heart together.

"Okay, Montana. Then I'll have to do all the talking. You can just listen."

She closed her eyes, and thought about putting her hands over her ears.

She heard a thump, and a slide, and when he spoke next, she realized he was sitting on the floor, his voice ghosting under the door.

"I watched Ruben grow up. When I moved into the apartment five years ago, he had just started school. Sometimes, when Rikki had to work, I'd walk him to school, or take him to the park. Not all the time, you know. Just every so often. I used to play catch with him in the park. I taught him how to ride a bike."

Lindsay crept closer, and curled beside the door, her hand flat against the place she thought his head would be.

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea, Montana. I wasn't the kid's surrogate dad or anything. I was just a guy in the neighbourhood. Sometimes, a kid needs a guy around."

There was a long pause, and Lindsay held her breath.

"I told him about the Blessing of the Bikes, Linds. Rikki, his mom, she wouldn't let him ride around the neighbourhood. And he was mad – said he wasn't a little kid any more. And I told him the church was blessing bikes, 'cause people wanted to feel protected, you know?"

Another long pause, and this time Lindsay knew he was crying. Her arms ached to hold him, but she didn't move.

"I blamed myself for putting him on the street, for not keeping him out of danger. And then I blamed myself for not reading Rikki better, for letting her get the drop on me, take my gun. I spent all day thinking – what if she kills someone? Kills herself? With my gun?"

The voice, which had been rising with emotion, became suddenly hushed. "But if I had known… if I'd had a clue … that you needed me … that you were in trouble … Lindsay, I'd have dropped everything. I'd have been there for you."

Tears were running down her face again. Her heart beat heavy under their weight.

"I stepped back and waited for you last time. I came out to Montana when I couldn't stand it anymore, letting you go through something like that all on your own. And if I stepped out this time, left you to face things alone, Lindsay, you have to know I didn't mean to. I love you. And I don't want to leave you to face anything alone again."

There was a fumbling at the door, and Lindsay held her breath as something was pushed under the door. A small, sparkling something that came out just near her hand.

"I was going to ask you two weeks ago. Remember? It was supposed to be a nice dinner out, and then we got called in to that double homicide and dinner was cold pizza at five in the morning over a gas chromatograph."

She heard him suck in a painful laugh, as she reached out a hand for the ring lying beside her.

"I should have just done it anyway, given you the ring and the speech and everything in the middle of the lab. I wonder what you would have said?" The husky voice stopped a minute. Then it continued softly, "I bet I know."

"Spoken like a true romantic." She whispered the words under her breath, just as he said them on the other side of the door. A shaky smile fleeted over her face.

"I love you, Lindsay. I want to marry you. I want to have little girls with your brown eyes and little boys who can play ball with me. I want Flack to be their guy in the neighbourhood who gets them out of trouble. And sometimes into it. I want Stella to spoil them and teach them pickup lines in Greek and show them how to strip down a semi-automatic."

His voice had gone dreamy, and Lindsay was sitting cross-legged on the floor, staring at the ring in her hand.

Staring at the promise in her hand.

"It won't always be easy. You know that. I know that. And I'm scared to death that it will go wrong. But I want life to be complicated and messy with you."

Still staring at the ring in her hand, Lindsay reached up and unlocked the door.

"Linds?"

The door pushed open a little way, and Danny and Lindsay were face to face, seated on the floor, one on either side of the door.

She held his ring out to him, her hand trembling.

Everything in him seemed to freeze as he took the ring from her. "Isn't there any way I can change your mind? Anything I can say?" Blue eyes looked into hers, misery bubbling in the depths.

She looked at him. "You could try asking me."

A tiny ray of hope mingled with the grief. "Lindsay Monroe, will you marry me?"

"It doesn't change anything. You screwed up, Danny."

"I know."

"You shut me out."

"I know."

"I thought we weren't going to do that any more."

"I know."

"I wanted to be there for you, and you wouldn't let me."

"I know."

"I wanted to tell you," she whispered, tears beginning to fall.

He reached for her through the door, sliding closer. "I know," he whispered back.

"You should have been there." The sob shook her body.

He pulled her into his lap, hands rubbing her back soothingly. "I know."

The sobs came tearing through, and Danny wrapped his arms around a grieving mother for the second time that week.

But this woman was his, and he would never let her go.

Finally, she lay in his arms, wrung out and emptied.

He reached for her hand, and put the ring on her finger. "Marry me."

She looked at it for a long time.

Finally, she kissed him and nodded.

He kissed her back, sealing the promise.

They sat there, in the hall, silent, until finally Danny said, "Uh, Montana?"

She lifted her head from his shoulder. "Uh-huh?"

"Do you think we could get out of the hall now?"

She struggled to her feet, and reached down to pull him up. He pushed himself up against the wall, not using her help.

She looked at him, then at her rejected hand, confused and troubled.

"No lifting," he informed her quietly. "No lifting anything heavier than a teacup for six weeks."

She flushed hotly, her hand going automatically to cover her stomach.

He stepped over the threshold and reached out a hand. "We'll take our time, Montana. Recovery isn't fast or easy. But we'll do it together. A step at a time."

'Come, mamma! come!
Quick! follow me!

Step out on the leaves of the water-lily!'