Disclaimer: Everything that belongs by right to CBS remains in their custody. No infringement is intended.

A/N: Thank you to all who read, reviewed, and put this fic on alerts. Debbie Monroe insisted that there was more to say, so here is part 3.

Wintersong

"Love and happiness surround you"

Debbie came forward, an inquisitive smile on her face. "Detective Messer, is it? Daniel? Well, come in, come in… no point in heating the whole state of Montana, is there? Mike, let the boy in, would you? And close the door. Did you bring a bag, Daniel?"

She pushed the bulk of Mike Messer out of the way, pulling Danny into the hall and shutting the door behind him as she spoke.

His eyes never leaving Lindsay's, Danny said absently, "In the car – just a couple of bags."

"Well, I'll get Cal to go out when he comes back and bring them in, then. In the mean time, come in, come in, and I'll go put on some coffee. Would you like coffee, Detective Messer? Or dinner? Have you eaten?"

"Danny." He shook himself out of the daze, and flashed his charming smile at Lindsay's mother, who was now standing between him and her daughter, who had not yet moved from the stairs. "Please, call me Danny. And coffee would be great, thank you."

Debbie smiled back, glanced over her shoulder at Lindsay quickly, then at her husband standing still glowering, with his hand on the door. "Mike? Let's go and make the coffee, shall we?" Her voice rose a little, and she nudged him sharply. "Mike? Let's give them a few minutes to …talk, okay?"

Firmly, she pushed him through the kitchen door as he stared back at the man in the doorway. "Mike," she hissed. "Come on!"

Lindsay could hear the low conversation behind the door, her mother's quick annoyed patter, her father's slow deep responses. He sounded frustrated, she thought; her mother just sounded excited.

Danny stood staring at her, not speaking, so she moved down one step towards him. "Danny? What are you doing here?"

He took a step, then stopped and took his snow-covered shoes off, leaving them dripping on the mat beside the door.

Lindsay swallowed hard. She opened her mouth to say, "You don't gotta do that," but she could tell from Danny's face that the levity would not be appreciated.

Danny moved towards her, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. "I couldn't… I wanted…" He stopped and took a deep breath. "You said you weren't going anywhere."

Lindsay looked at him in shock. "What?"

"You said you weren't going anywhere. And then you left." Blue eyes burned in a gray face.

Echoes of conversations in halls surrounded her for a moment. Nearly every important conversation they had had, she thought, had been in a hallway.

Lindsay sat down on the stair, putting them on eye level, and reached out a hand to place it gently on his arm. "I was coming back, Danny. I just needed a day or two… to work things out."

"You told me that before, when you were trying to explain why you hadn't told me about the baby, hadn't told me you thought you were pregnant. You went through that all on your own. And I gotta know here, Linds, how much are you going to try and handle on your own?"

He read it in her eyes before she opened her mouth, and started to turn away, but she gripped his arm tighter, and said firmly, "No. You asked. So you have to listen to the answer. How much am I going to handle on my own? If I have to, everything. I can do it all on my own."

He closed his eyes.

She shook him to make him look at her again. "I said I can do it all on my own, Danny. If I hadn't been prepared for that, I would have… made other decisions. But I didn't. I want this baby. Our baby."

His hand turned under hers and gripped tightly. "So do I. How can I convince you of that?"

She laughed a little ruefully. "You've been doing a pretty good job so far. And I want to be convinced. I want to do this with you… But I'm afraid."

It was time to lay it out, she thought. If she couldn't tell him this, if he couldn't accept it, then it was better to know now.

"Afraid of what? Of having the baby? I'll be there, I promise – every minute of it." His other hand was now hovering over her belly, longing to touch, but not sure if it would be welcomed.

"I'm not afraid of that. I'm afraid of… after." Lindsay said it bluntly, honestly. "Afraid that you won't be there when she's teething, or fussy, or takes her first step or goes to school on her first day…" Her voice broke and Danny's hand moved to stroke her hair as he sat down hard on the step below her.

"I promise. I promise, Lindsay. I want this – I want you and her. You keep saying her?' He looked up at her quizzically, and she couldn't help the little chuckle.

"I told you – too early yet to know. But I think – well, sometimes I think…" She rested her hand on her stomach, and this time Danny's joined her.

"I need you to listen to me now. I know we did this all wrong – everything in the wrong order. But somehow, we ended up here, you know? You and me and her," his hand moved lovingly over the small bump that held his future – their future. "Or him. And no matter how long it takes you to realize it, I am here for good. I am not going anywhere. And when you go, wherever you go, I'll follow you."

He looked up into her face, and rubbed a gentle thumb across her cheek, wiping away the tears that had begun to fall. "I said I love you, Lindsay Monroe. I do. And I don't want you to keep holding that door open, waiting for me to walk out."

She dropped her eyes down to their intertwined hands. She had forgotten how well he could read her.

"I want to be there when you're tired and need a foot rub or a cup of tea. I want to be there when the baby kicks, or when we find out for sure if I am buying my son a baseball, or my daughter a… a buck knife!"

She raised laughing, drowned eyes to his, put a hand on his cheek, and opened her mouth to say something. Then she blinked, hard, and pushed his hand a few inches from where it had been. "There. There! Did you feel that?"

His eyes went wide and he stared up at her with wonder. "Is that… is that her?"

She nodded, smiling through the tears that refused to stop.

The smile blazed through him, and he kissed her briefly before placing his mouth just over his hand and whispering, "Hey there. Hey, little one. This is your daddy. Did you hear me? This is your daddy and he loves you so much. He loves you and your mommy so much."

He raised his head to look into Lindsay's face, and said, a little more firmly, "And he isn't going anywhere."

Just then the door slammed open, and snow-covered figures fell in through the door, laughing and shaking snow out of hair and off coats. Mufflers, mittens, and boots went in all directions, Debbie Monroe came flying back in from the kitchen, talking a mile a minute as she greeted the new arrivals, consisting mostly of grandchildren, sons, and other relatives. Mike stood in the kitchen door, smiling at the home invasion and greeting eager children with cookies in hand, but his eyes kept flickering to the stairs, where Lindsay's head was bent to Danny's, foreheads nearly touching as they whispered, held in a sort of silence in the midst of chaos.

"Hey, there's a car in the driveway – a rental. Who's it belong to? Someone else show up for Mom's Christmas Eve sing-a-long?" It was Cal's voice, naturally, which cut through the babble and turmoil, and as one, the family stopped to look at the interloper in the family scene.

"Who's this, Linds?"

Lindsay rolled her eyes at her youngest brother. Danny stood up and took a deep breath, but she struggled up and stepped in front of him, saying, "Everyone, this is Danny Messer, my partner from New York."

His hand gripped hers painfully, and she glanced at him demurely before turning back to her family and saying, "My partner, and my fiancé."

Debbie looked at the entwined hands, the glowing smiles, and sighed in satisfaction. "So," she said, "How long can you stay, Danny?"