Having left Lucy with her parents-in-law, Lindsay had wandered around New York for a while, just lost in her thoughts and not really paying much attention to anything. She needed to get out and away from home, too many reminders of what had happened and what they lost. And Danny just didn't seem to understand that they needed different things. She
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If she's not home when I get out, he decides, I'll head home, pack a bag, an' Lucy an' I can give her a night off. Spend the night in Staten. He can't remember the last time he'd done that; he could use the comfort of his parents, especially his mother, right now. He hasn't spent time with them in so long, and he can't remember the last time he spent time with them apart from Lindsay. Not that he resents his wife, because he doesn't, not at all; he's struggling to deal with this, Jess's loss, and his mother's a wise woman. She might have perspective he lacks.
He doesn't have much time left on the clock, fiddling with paperwork and evidence bags in the layout room, logging everything so that once the results from IBIS, IAFIS, and the GCMS come in, he'll just have to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Boom. Done. His head jerks up at the sound of a knock; he expects to see Adam, maybe, coming with results, or Flack telling him that he got some information when his boys canvassed the area.
It's Lindsay; he doesn't expect to see her, and he mentally crosses-off the idea of staying at his parents' tonight.
Standing, paperwork in a somewhat messy pile, he makes his way to the door on stiff legs, opening it with a hesitant smile. "Everythin' okay?" he asks softly, stepping aside so she can enter if she'd like.
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That twinkle in his eye had gone, the cheekiness to his smile, the innuendo's and cocky remarks. Danny was a broken man, as broken as she was but in different ways. He was reaching out for the one woman who needed space to grieve, and while she was willing to be there for him at times, she needed her own space.
God how she missed those glasses, and that cocky smile...and that light in his eyes. When he walked towards her she lowered the bag, holding it out to him, "I brought you some donuts."
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"Thanks," he murmurs, taking the bag and setting the donuts on the small table by the door. "Uh... wanna have some? Or... yeah. I'm just finishin' up."
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When he took the bag she shook her head, "I've already had some, those are for you." She motioned towards the door with her head, "I'll wait for you to finish up, we can go home together." Pressing a quick kiss to his cheek Lindsay headed back towards the locker rooms.
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"If that's whatchu want." She works better under pressure, in situations that won't let her think of Jess's loss. He tries to sneak a glance at her wrist, wanting to see the tattoo of their daughter's footprints. He wanted his own, wanted all three of his girls inked on his body in some way. No matter what happened, if they were there, he'd never lose that. "I can't eat 'em now," he explains, his voice soft. "I got evidence out. It was sweet'a ya ta bring 'em fer me, but I'm gonna save 'em. We can have 'em on the ride home, if yer gonna wait... thanks. Thanks, Linds." Closing his eyes for the briefest of moments and focusing solely on the press of her lips against his scratchy cheek, his eyes remain closed until the door to the layout room closes.
True to his word, he doesn't break into them; he doesn't touch the bag again until the evidence is secured, the box placed in the unit locker for safekeeping. Donut bag in hand, he walks purposefully, searching for his wife.
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"I'll see you later," she said softly and thanks. When Don squeezed her hand and glanced down, noticing the tattoo, she smiled and explained, watching him watch her face. It was still so hard for her, so very hard. Don excuses himself when his phone rings and he heads off towards the elevators.
Leaning against the wall, Lindsay looked down at her wrist, her fingers brushing over the tattoo she'd got there. Silent. Hurting.
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"Hey," he murmurs softly, stopping a few feet away from her. "Home?"
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"I was thinking Chinese for dinner, we could order in when we get home, have a bottle of wine or some beers," maybe the alcohol would help them both, maybe it wouldn't. But it was worth a try.
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He nods vehemently; he's not working tomorrow, and Lindsay's still off. He could get good and drunk without having to worry about Lucy, or who'll take care of her. For nearly a year, he'd been responsible; one night wasn't going to kill anyone if Lucy was away. "Chinese an' drinkin'. That sounds amazin'." They can order the Chinese when they get home. Their favorite place delivers, and he can easily run out to the liquor store or the bodega and pick up as much alcohol as they need. Maybe a bottle of wine and beer. A lot of beer.
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"It's a while since the two of us have had a night together, I thought it would do us both good to have a little treat." Walking with him she pushed open the door to the locker room, but waited by it for him to get his things together. "Adam was telling me about his new girlfriend earlier, he seems rather smitten wit her, it's nice to see him so bubbly again. After all the teasing about Haylen and him being worried that she was trying to take his job."
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Nodding, he looks straight ahead, casting sidelong glances at his wife every few steps as they head toward the locker room. He twists the lock, snapping the locker open, grabbing his leather jacket and bag, and slamming it shut with an echoing clang. "What's her name again? The girlfriend." He slings his bag over his shoulder, folding his jacket over his arm; it's warm out, a blissful spring. "C'mon. Let's get outta here." He hasn't had the desire to get drunk in a long time, but now, it's back with a vengeance, almost like what Flack had gone through after Angell's death.
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As he collected her things, Lindsay played with a loose thread on her jacket, twisting it around her finger and watching as it's tip turned red, then purple and finally a blue. "Hmmm?" She looked up, dropping the thread, "Oh, Elle, he showed me a picture, very pretty, sounds like a nice girl." She was happy for him. Nodding as he walked towards her, Lindsay stepped out into the corridor and waited until he was out before walking towards the elevator with him and down onto the streets.
ooc:Want to skip to them getting home.
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He walks silently by her side, saying nothing. There is nothing to say. She's made her decision, they have plans for the night, there isn't anything to talk about that won't be glossing over the pain they hold between them.
[yes]
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Moving from his side, Lindsay unlocked the door and headed inside, slipping off her coat and shoes before walking further into their quiet house. Setting down her things she headed up stairs to Lucy's room, depositing the toy in her room before heading to the bathroom. Moments later she called Danny's name.
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They walk into the house; she immediately moves away, putting her things away before heading with a toy to, he assumes, Lucy's room. As he removes his boots and jacket, unstrapping his holster and removing his badge to store all in the gun safe in their bedroom, he hears Lindsay call his name. "Yeah?" he calls back, clicking the gun safe closed, wandering through the house to find his wife.
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"I hope you've not got any plans for tomorrow because I've made arrangements for us to do something before we pick Lucy up from your folks."
Sitting down on a small stool in front of him, Lindsay held the can of foam between her knees. Reaching into her back pocket she pulled out a scrap of folded paper. If he opened it he'd see a picture. At the top were two rings entwined with the date of their wedding in Roman numerals. Under were Lucy's baby feet, her name and date of birth the same. But under, there was Jess' feet, put on the page so they were left to right instead and turned slightly to look like a pair of tiny angel wings.
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