We've hit Cost of Living. I believe this is the last episode with Danny and his glasses, so you get to "see" them. There is actually a reason Danny (not Carmine) won't wear them later. But that's for later chapters.

Marshal 6:

It was another misty New York Morning. Lindsay huddled into her coat as she stepped up from the subway and into the natural light. She smiled a little as people stepped around her. She'd woken early, a smile on her lips left over from whatever her dreams had been.

Then she thought of her grandfather, made a call to her Uncle Freddie, and was relieved to find that Marshall had been at his place last night. She checked her email, found a few messages from Danny he'd sent while she'd slept. They made her smile, the little jokes and the vague clues to the case he had picked up last night.

Everything felt right in her world.

She got dressed, headed out early and stopped at the street vender down from her apartment. The proprietor was an aging, but a symbol of New York. He maintained the edge of grumpiness, but over the last few years he'd gotten used to her chatter. She liked to think he looked forward to seeing her.

More than likely, he looked forward to the days she showed up with Danny—who would tug her on her way then laugh at her for perplexing the old man.

She bought her donut and a coffee with heavy cream and left the man with a cheerful smile.

Now, as she walked toward the crime lab building she slowed her pace. She was still early after all. The people around her simply moved. She enjoyed seeing the different people, day in and day out, all mixed together in color and creed into a cacophony of what made up New York. It was nothing, nothing like Montana. Even as she followed a group into the building, she only recognized a handful of them. She knew even less recognized her.

Today's receptionist at sign in was Nancy. She barely glanced at the IDs and signatures; just enough to made the ID and send people on their way. She didn't like small talk, and wouldn't recognize you the next day.

But then a lot of people came through every day. Lindsay preferred Eloise. The older receptionist liked to step and talk, if it wasn't busy. There was recognition in her eyes, and a sharp mind that remembered something you said if the detail was important enough.

She'd noticed the moment Lindsay gave in, after the trial, to Danny. And she'd noticed when things ended. She was hesitant now, but Lindsay knew she waited for confirmation. Lindsay just wasn't sure what held her back.

And at least for today, with Nancy at the desk, she didn't have to wonder.

It took awhile, from sign-in to riding high in the elevator, but as Lindsay stepped off the elevator, she headed toward her office just as Danny came out. He looked up and caught her eye, then leaned back against the door frame to wait on her.

"Morning," he said when she was close enough. He grinned widely at her, and bounced on the balls of his feet.

She smiled at him. "Good morning. You're certainly chipper. That's usually my role."

He grinned, looking something like she imagined he would at Christmas. "I just thought you might want me to bring you up to speed on our latest case."

"And you're volunteering your services?"

"I've wanted to call you since early this morning."

"I noticed, via the emails," she shrugged out of her coat. "Why didn't you?"

"Thought you'd want your sleep."

"That was thoughtful of you," she folded her coat over her arms as she waited. "You going to let me in our office?"

He stayed there, leaning against the frame and grinned at her. "Guess."

"Guess what?"

"Guess what movie last nights crime scene reminded me of?"

"Not Plan 9?"

"No—not something we've seen. Not yet. We should though," he frowned a little over it, oddly distracted. "I can't believe we haven't seen any of them together."

"Danny—" she tilted her head, lifted her eyebrows.

"I keep telling you, you listen to me more, you live longer!"

And there it was, the odd tingling in the back of her mind. "Ah …"

"Nope—not fast enough, Montana. Wear your jewels to bed Princess?"

"Ah—" she held up a hand—eyed him with her best evil eye so that he would wait. "Jewels. Princess. Danger and exotic places. I think I've got it. Wear your jewels to bed Princess? Yeah... and nothing else. Shock you?"

Danny's eyes danced as he leaned back, so obviously proud of himself. "Nothing shocks me. I'm a scientist."

Lindsay laughed. "How long have you been waiting to say that line?"

"Since about three o'clock this morning."

"You're like a little boy at Christmas," she tried to step by him and into their office, but he held out a hand and stopped her. She took a step back, feigned impatience.

"Wait. I have another," he leaned in close. "Where's the antidote?"

Lindsay rolled her eyes, but reveled in his cheerfulness. They didn't always have these moments—little times to simply treasure each other. So much of their lives were awash with the immediate, the serious, and the dreadful. And a lot of times, the mundane.

So it was nice that she'd found a guy who could make her laugh in the midst of all of that.

"The antidote? Why Mr. Messer! I just met you! I'm not that kind of girl…"

As she watched him nod in recognition, she thought of Eloise and wondered why she couldn't just confirm that they were back together.

"You going to tell me what Indiana Jones has to do with our new case?"

"That's what I'm here for," Danny grinned at her as he dropped his arm, let her pass. "Grab a seat and I'll fill you in."

"Great, while you do that I'll start finishing the paperwork so we can put yesterday's case to bed."

.ny.

They'd found a man, James Sutton, dressed in India Jones garb. He was an archeologist and was currently fixated on the urban archeology of New York City. There were ligature marks on his neck, a bloody oven mitt, and another half dozen catalogued pieces of trace that needed to be documented.

She worked her way through the paperwork, made a few calls to let the right people know they were finished. The ADA had a few questions, then she had to return a call from a special unit on prostitution. The evidence was carefully checked and catalogued. She ran it through twice, double and triple checked the forms, and then went to find Danny.

She didn't always end up with the paperwork. Danny did his share, and when they could, they worked together in their office. They had a routine. It was nice to see they were back into the swing of things.

She found him trace. The lab was active outside the glass walls, but for the moment he was alone. He looked up at her from the oven mitt he held.

"Considering your lunch options?" she asked.

"Hardly," he frowned as he looked back, then shook his head. "This wasn't human."

"Are oven mitt's normally human?"

"Smart tail. The blood and hair. Rat. A rat was killed with the mitt. Or on the mitt."

"You found it in a New York ally. This surprises you?"

"Did you just come to bring the snark?"

"Nope. I came baring gifts," she stepped around the table and handed him the paperwork. He started reading the top page and pulled a pen out of the pocket on his lab coat.

Lindsay simply watched him, and considered this side of him. Standing there with his lab coat and glasses, carefully reading over the document and following procedure, even though she knew he trusted her. It wasn't about trust. It was about following the rules. Sometimes, it was just what he did.

And other times, he broke the rules. Sometimes, it didn't bother him, sometimes, it did.

He was scientist and bad boy, cop that sometimes walked to the edge of the line.

When he clicked his pen, started to sign the first document, she couldn't help but smile. He looked up, glanced over the rim of his glasses at her. "What?"

Lindsay shrugged. He wouldn't want to hear her analysis of him. "You're just so cute."

"Yeah—and I think I need more of a gift from paperwork if that's what you came baring."

"What did you have in mind?" she asked, even as her cell phone rang.

"Something—" he eyed her cell as she opened it. "How bout some uninterrupted time? Just you and me?"

"Sounds good," she said then held the phone to her ear as she watched him. "Monroe."

"This is Nancy in reception. You have a visitor. He says he's your—"

"Grandfather. I should have expected him."

"Should I send him up."

"Probably."

"Yes or no, Detective Monroe?"

Lindsay rolled her eyes. "Yes. Have them bring him to my office."

"About that uninterrupted time?" Danny asked again as she hung up.

"Sounds good."

"Maybe head down to the Jersey Coast for the day. Or Long Island. I know some people with a good view."

"I think we could do that"

"And you're grandfather?"

She sighed thought of Marshall and why he was or wasn't in the city, "He won't be here forever."

Danny smiled. She supposed he hadn't expected her to leave with Marshall in town. "Then you better head down, head him off before he starts telling Mac what to do."

Lindsay laughed and shook her head. "You know him pretty well."

"I know you," he smiled and for a moment, she let herself be drawn into him through his smile, through the easy moment between them. He held up the stack of papers he still needed to read and sign. "I'll file these for you."

"Thanks—" he was looking at her again, the way that told her he was thinking of their interrupted plans, or planning … or just thinking of her. There was such emotion there. In his eyes.

Such blue eyes.

"Ah … let me go …"

He smiled. "Linds?"

"Yes?"

"Go."

But even as she left, she could tell that he watched her go.

So ... :)

More to come later ... (should I tell you Mac may get to meet Marshal?)