Impala.Princess.

TOO CLOSE 2/? (MickBeth PG-13)

Tue, 13 Nov 2007 04:30:11 GMT

Title: Too Close
Author: impala_princess
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Spoilers for 1x02.
Genre: Romance (Mcbeth)
Summary: It was worse now. Now she was too close. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, sadly. If I was owner, that shower scene would have gone MUCH differently.

--

His face had long since returned to normal, and it was human, fearful eyes that met the blonde sitting atop him. Mick could feel her everywhere; could taste her blood on his tongue. A flash of desire swept through his body, causing him to buck his hips into the supple flesh above him. A breathy gasp was what he earned for his actions. Which seemed to pull him out of his pleasured state. This was Beth. Who had a boyfriend. She was too close.

“You need to…” He pushed her body off of his, his cold hands grazing the skin of her hip as he did. The touch caused him to drop his gaze to her neck. The proof that he had went too far. “Beth, I can’t. I’m a…” When his gaze met her’s, he was met with confusion and the deep-seated desire he’d known to be reflected in his moments earlier. How could he have let this get so out of control? He needed to gain calm over the situation. For it to return to the best state of normal it could.

The moment was charged with forbidden elements, ones that Mick wanted desperately to escape from. She was a stubborn woman. Someone who could match his defenses and eventually tear them down. He had to make her see him as he really was. A monster. Someone who killed. Drank blood. He had to make her leave. And still, he couldn’t help but watch as though mesmerized, at the way she moved. She was standing not three feet from him, her hand slowly raising to the mark on her throat. As she touched the proof of what had transpired between them, he watched as a shudder ran through her body. Closing his eyes tightly, he took a deep, unneeded breath.

“Mick.” A simple statement. But, one so powerful, it had him opening his eyes. Her own eyes were half-lidded with the loss of blood and something else he didn’t want to delve deeper into. Her head was tilted in the way it always was when she was thinking deeply about something. He willed his eyes to stay trained on her own and nowhere else. Anywhere else would be the ending of the weak resolve he was holding onto. Her arm was bent at the elbow, her hand reached out to him, palm upturned. Her fingers were coated with blood; her blood. His gaze dropped to her slender fingers without thinking, staring at the elixir he had just, moments before, tasted.

Her body moving swam in his vision, making him take notice that she was walking closer to him. Alarm bells rang inside his head, but were drowned out by the blood running through his veins; HER blood running through his veins. Beth was standing but inches from him now, her hand held up in front of his face. “Mick.” There it was again. So simply she spoke, but it was like the most powerful hypnosis he had ever underwent. He tried not to listen to the beat of her heart, slamming against her ribcage; tried not to smell her blood; her arousal. The last was the strongest and he suppressed a shudder for knowing he was the cause of it.

He started when he felt her finger running over his bottom lip. His eyes snapped up to her own, seeing the want, the almost need, to have more. She didn’t know what she was doing. The taste of her blood filled his mouth once more and he realized that she was running her finger, the one that had touched the mark, over his lip. Moist, pink tongue swiped along his lip without thinking, touching her finger as well. Another small gasp escaped her lips, ghosting over his collarbone. She was too close to him. He wouldn’t be able to push her away if she didn’t stop.

Almost sighing with relief, Mick closed his eyes briefly, when her finger left his mouth. ‘Come on, St. John. Make up some excuse about needing to heal or something. Anything to make her leave. She doesn’t know. She can’t know.’ His breath expelled harshly from his lungs when he felt her hand at his waist, her fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. Hearing more than feeling it being tugged from his pants, his eyes took on a wild look, as he gazed into her determined ones. Why was she doing this? Couldn’t she see that he wasn’t right for her? That this couldn’t work out? Her warm hands found the skin of his back, causing a rough groan to push past his throat and out into the air around them. A needy sound. Like he hadn’t been touched that way in decades.

Her hands were everywhere,; tracing his spine with the tips of her fingers, pressing her palms flat on his shoulder blades, dipping her finger in the waistband of his pants. Mick jerked forward at the sudden contact, pressing his body into her’s. He hissed through clenched teeth, as his muscular chest touched her breasts; his supernatural abilities letting him feel her nipples tighten. Feeling his fangs extend, Mick turned his face away from Beth. She’d already seen him like this once; out of control. He wouldn’t let it happen again. Because if she looked into his eyes right now, he knew she would be looking into an icy glaze of abnormality. Something that wasn’t supposed to exist, but did.

Tiny, petite hands tightened on the small of his back, almost making sure to leave some kind of mark on his body. Even if it was in half-moon indents. The beating in her ribcage was powerful. Overwhelming. Until now, he had been so focused on himself. Now, with her body; her veins pumping the blood that made his own boil so close to him, he could hear everything. He could feel everything about her. The way her breath hitched on the intake slightly from the excitement coursing through her. The way she smelled of light flowers and vanilla. He was far too close. He needed to get away. Distance. He needed distance.

It was like he couldn’t move. As much as he wanted to. As badly as he wanted to tear himself away from the woman standing in front of him, removing a hand from inside his shirt, he couldn’t. Because, as badly as he wanted to move, he wanted so much more to stay where he was, so succumb to Beth Turner. To tell her everything that had ever happened to him. All his secrets and likes. His favorites and fears. He wanted to be able to laugh with her and lay in bed with her, wrapped up in love and sweaty sheets. At this precise moment, Mick wanted Beth to be his home. Something he had been without for sixty years.

This woman; this human woman had so much power over him and he was unable to stop it in every way. His eyes, supernatural and aroused, watched her gaze at him, fearless and curious. It was like she had been given an intricate toy without the instruction manual. And the man inside Mick St. John was encouraging her to press every button and pull every lever. She raised her arm, the one she had removed from the skin of his back and brought it up between them. Closing his eyes at the scent, he knew it was the one that had touched the mark, his mark, before.

Delicate fingers touched the hollow of his throat; the very same place he had sank his teeth into her. He moaned lightly, unable to stop the noise from escaping his mouth, his eyes continuing to watch her own. She was watching her fingers move over his golden skin. If he wasn’t trying so hard not to take her right at the moment, he would have found the fact that he had golden skin all-too-ironic. As such, he was busy holding back the noises threatening to escape his throat and the monster inside of him telling to take her. Hard and now. She had proved she was allowable. She had given herself over once. She would do it again.

When pressure was applied to the very spot that had turned himself into what he was, he cried out hoarsely and his eyes widened. Faster than before, his arms were grasping her to him, pulling her fully into him; aligning them hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. Beth’s warm breath coasted over his neck, causing rivulets of shivers to run through his strong body. Her eyes were looking into his and he felt himself dipping down to capture the lips of the woman who had riddled him nothing without her. Her heartbeat, he heard, was thumping wildly in her chest; he could smell the anticipation on her. He fleetingly hoped that she could smell the same on him.

Those little hitches in her breath drew him closer to her lips. This close to her mouth, he could smell the apple pie she’d had before he had picked her up to go the warehouse; could smell the gum she had been chewing. He wondered if she’d taste the same. As his bottom lip brushed her top one, he heard it. A buzzing. Beth jumped away from him, as she scrambled for her pocket. Mick screwed his eyes shut, tightly, stepping farther back from her. That was too close. What was he thinking? His labored breathing could not block out the words, “Josh” and “love you, too”. However meaningless the last words sounded. “I, um…that was-” Mick ran a hand through his hair, shakily.

“Um, it’s okay. I gotta…” He turned around and started a walk up the stairs of his place. “You can let yourself out, right?” Disappearing from sight, Mick leaned heavily against the wall. He could still feel her there. Could still hear the blood running rapidly through her bloodstream. And even as she exited through the door, he knew he would never be able to stop feeling her now. Not after this.

TOO MUCH 1/? (MicBeth PG-13 to R)

Wed, 10 Oct 2007 07:32:47 GMT

Title: Too Much
Author: impala_princess
Rating: PG-13 to R
Warning: Spoilers for 1x02.
Genre: Romance (Micbeth)
Summary: It was all too much for Mick St. John. All he wanted was for her to leave.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, sadly. If I did, Beth would have left her husband in the last episode and be shacking up with Mick right about now.

The poison was fast. Traveling through his blood stream, making him weaker by the second. He needed blood. And he needed it now. The sun sliced through a window, as Mick St. John staggered up the steps to his apartment, making him bend forward in humiliating avoidance. The wound in his torso throbbed painfully, an ugly reminder of the night’s events. He’d told her to stay in the car. It was safer that way. For him. Always for him. She had thought it was because he was being nice, and a part of it was because of her protection. But, if she knew; if she saw what he was. She hadn’t stayed and it made it that much harder to leave the warehouse, the call of blood coursing through his being. Almost like he was alive.

Slamming into his door, Mick saw through monstrous eyes as it opened. Frantically, desperately, he searched out the pouches, the sickeningly truth of the way he lived. And he drank. Drank like a thirsty man who hadn’t had water for decades. He could feel the blood pouring down his chin, uncaring.

“I keep dreaming about you….why?” Mick stopped, yellow eyes fearful. He had felt her presence; smelt her before he’d even heard her. She was someone that had followed him for decades. She’d saved him, as he had her. His constraint on the monster within him had started with her. He would always know her. He heard the unsteady heartbeat beat underneath her warm, inviting skin. She had to leave.

“Don’t look at me.” Pain coursed through his body, making it easier for him to bend forward, as Beth walked closer to him. He wouldn’t drink in front of her. If she saw the monster he was, everything would be over. She was a reporter. And Mick knew that came first. Over whatever the hell the pair had between them. He fell to the floor, a heap of disgrace; the wreck of a man who once was.

He heard her heartbeat speed up, as she came closer. He tried to stop the trembling, but the poison was starting to get the best of him. He needed to feed. And then he turned to face her. This time, he heard her gasp over the maddening pace of her heart. “Oh my God.” Yellow eyes met Beth’s, as he awaited her next question; the inevitable one.

“What are you?” ‘A monster. Someone you knew long ago.’ “I’m a vampire.” It was done. The truth was out. Josef would know how to handle this after everything was over. And the fleeting thought that passed through Mick’s frantic mind was how he would stop Josef from killing Beth for knowing the truth. He waited, shaking on the floor, for the women before him to leave.

She didn’t. She stood there, warm and alive, blood pumping steadily through her body, staring at him. Another bout of pain shot through his body, causing him to bend forward more, a slouch of man, trying to hide himself to the one person whom he wanted to know all. The clicking sound of her heels made his heart drop. And then the sound of the door shutting was heard. She was gone, he was sure. Until he heard her feet carrying her back over to him. He looked back up at her, seeing her calm eyes staring at him again.

“What are you doing?” Mick trembled violently, closing his eyes at the pain. He needed to feed. “Go. Please. I can’t let you see…” Beth knelt forward, coming to kneel on her knees beside him. He couldn’t hide at all now. She was staring straight on into the eyes of a man haunted by unfortunate circumstances; a man ridden with being in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was staring into the eyes of her friend. Mick averted his gaze; her scent overpowering his senses. A man of willpower was what he was. Because of her.

He heard the rustling of fabric in his ears. Once again, he turned to face the woman who was anything but predictable. She had taken off her jacket, a teal top clothing her now. “Beth, please, just….” He stopped, as she moved closer to him. “Feed.” He couldn’t. He couldn’t let her see what a monster he was. He just wanted her to see him as the man who rescued her. A friend. Not something to be scared of; something to write about.

She just sat there, looking at him. Mick looked down at the pouch in his grasp, the hunger and the pain calling out his primal side. Weakened from everything he could possibly imagine, Mick slowly started to bring the tube to his lips. He would deal with the repercussions later. Think up some believable lie. Because he’d been doing that for as long as he could remember. “No.” Mick watched, as Beth moved aside the collar of her top. “From me, Mick. Drink from me.” The trembling was violent now. Too much. All too much. He just wanted his safe life. Drinking miserably from pouches, getting the bad guys, saving Beth. It was too much. “Beth, please. Go. You don’t know what…”

The same woman who had saved him was now breaking him. She was pressing forward, her smell becoming his entire world. He could hear her heartbeat, strong in her ribcage. Sure of herself. He knew she was a woman of will. The smooth skin of her jugular was swimming in his vision, her eyes next to all he could see. In them he saw assurance; no fear.

It was too much.

He surged forward, watching her eyes widen. But still, no fear shone in them. His crazed gaze went from her eyes to her neck. His breathing labored. He started, as he felt her hand, her warm skin, on the base of his own neck, touching the sweat and fear of a man scorned. Encouraging him. Pressing him forward. He couldn’t. He set his mouth at the crook of her neck, his fangs scraping her throat. He wouldn’t do this. He’d spent so much time doing the right thing because of this woman. If she would only leave.

And then she jerked her body forward and his teeth sank into the soft flesh he found there. Warm, salty blood flooded into his mouth. He felt her heartbeat in his chest, heard her intake of breath from his breaking her skin. Too much. He started to draw back out, but her hand was there again, at his neck, keeping him planted. “Please, Mick….please.” Something stirred inside of him at the sound of her voice; husky. Unbridled.

She wanted this. Mick become unhinged, grasping her from her position on the floor and bringing her into his lap, her gasp all he heard, as he started to drink from her. She was the best he’d ever tasted. Sweet and forbidden. Allowable. She grasped his shoulders, her head titled back. Too much. Pulling himself out, he scraped his fangs across the bite for a second; felt her fingers press in on his shoulders, before he pushed back in, resuming.

It was no longer about his healing. It was about trust. That he would be able to stop. To prove to her in a twisted way, that he wasn’t a monster. That he had some kind of control. He had no control over his emotions, however, and he felt himself rocking into her pelvis with desire. Nothing like this had ever happened. A woman so willing, so trusting. Her blood. Her body. Her answering moan only encouraged him, as he felt the last of the poison being flushed out of his system.

He licked at the bite mark on her neck, nothing but a fast-healing wound and his saliva there now. His hot breath puffed out onto her neck. This was all too much for him. This wasn’t supposed to happen. All thoughts were driven out by Beth’s movements. Pulling his face up to meet her’s, once again he saw no fear in her eyes. Only assurance and a deep amount of desire, which he was sure was mirrored in his own. She wiped the bit of blood from his chin, transferring it to his shirt that fit him so well. And then a smirk appeared.

“I thought you said there was no such thing as vampires.”

Comments, please! Should I continue with the story, or leave as a one shot?

Make Tracks, Cowboy

Thu, 22 Feb 2007 01:15:10 GMT

Title: Make Tracks, Cowboy
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Danny/Lindsay
Summary: With nothing else to do on New Year’s Eve, Lindsay decides to take an invitation from a friend and attend a party. And she’s shown how to celebrate the holiday the New York way.
Author’s Note: Submitted for the New Year’s Eve Challenge. Which I won!!
A/N 02: Spoilers-->Possibly season three.

It wasn’t to say that she was new. Truthfully speaking, she was the newest member on the CSI team, but it was unnecessary to call her “new” anymore. Lindsay Monroe had been a crime scene investigator in New York for at least six months now. The term “new” shouldn’t be brought up, in her opinion.

At least when it came to the lab. Concerning anything else but the lab, Lindsay would concur that she was much new to the city. Since moving to the Big Apple, Lindsay hadn’t been more than a handful of places, excluding the places her work sent her. There was that little coffee shop by her apartment that she went to every day, and Sullivan’s, where she had went with the team maybe twice. And her apartment certainly didn’t count. She had been to Stella’s place a couple of times after her ordeal with Frankie, to make sure that she was okay. But other than that, honestly, she could say that she hadn’t experienced the city.

Every time she thought about this, her mind convinced herself that it was because she was always working; that she never had time. And now it was the day before New Year’s Eve, and Lindsay was sorely short on options. The truth in the fact that she worked more than the average twenty-five-year-old should, had resulted in her missing her chance to call home to see if Mamma had plans for the New Year. So, home was out of the question.

So, with a resigned sigh, Lindsay chalked it up to bringing in the New Year with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and watching the ball drop on her old television.

<--10-->

Lindsay’s heels clicked and echoed on the linoleum floor of the crime lab, as she walked at a brisk pace to trace.

“Lindsay, hey.” Lindsay’s head turned left to the sound of Stella’s voice, smiling at the curly-haired brunette, as she fell into stride with her.

“Stella. What’s up? Did you get the prints back on the Thompson case?” Lindsay pursed her lips, as she and Stella turned a corner, approaching the trace lab. Lindsay pushed the glass doors open with her back, as she continued to look at Stella.

“Yeah, Adam just gave me the results.” Stella handed a folder over to Lindsay, who opened it on auto-pilot. A smile lit her face; the smile she saved for great triumphs. As in, catching the bad guys. “All evidence is pointing towards the father.” Lindsay frowned.

“Montana, I got our trace back. The fibers we found on Madison’s clothes are a perfect match to-” Danny lifted the result-ridden paper in his hands, an accomplished look on his face.

“-Let me guess. A match to the father, right?” Danny lowered his hand and nodded. Lindsay turned back to Stella. “We got him. I’ll let Flack know. He can set up the interrogation.”

“Lindsay, let me do it. You look exhausted. Look, I’ll call Flack and do the interrogation. You handle the paperwork, since there’s not much of it.” Lindsay smiled gratefully at Stella.

“Thanks, Stella.” Lindsay handed the prints results back over to the female CSI. “Okay, I’m going to go get that paperwork finished. With any hope, I can finish before the New Year begins.” Stella nodded her head and opened the door for her and the other female to exit.

“I’ll see you at the party tonight, Messer.” Stella smiled at the blonde before she left, turning back to Lindsay, who looked quite surprised.

“Party?”

“Yeah. The New Year’s Eve party we have every year. Mac makes it mandatory. You’re coming, right?” Lindsay thought about it. It sure beat sitting at home, watching the ball drop on TV.

“Uh, yeah. Of course. Is it at Sullivan’s?” Stella shook her head and scrawled an address on a piece of paper. Handing it over to the petite country girl, Stella smiled and walked away with a, “See you tonight. Semi-formal, don’t forget!”

Lindsay looked at the paper in her hand, reading over the address at least a dozen times. She had no idea where this place was.

Thank God for taxis.

<--9-->

Paperwork had been simple. Much like the case her, Stella and Danny had been assigned to. A seven-year-old girl had been found murdered. Her father, who had wanted out of the ties that bind with a child, had done it. Prints and fibers connected him to it. Danny had called her after the interrogation to let her know that he had confessed to it as well. This was the reason why Lindsay worked the job she did. To put away the people who hurt others.

She had left the file on Mac’s desk and headed home, feeling somewhat light for the first time in weeks. The case had been simple. She was actually going out. Blaring the speakers in her car, she sang along to Faith Hill, reveling in the years old lyrics of “This Kiss”.

Her thoughts couldn’t help but swerve to her partner. She wasn’t ready to share her secret with anyone, but dare she think she was ready to share her heart? Although, being truthful, she knew her heart was taking the reins in this situation.

Lindsay unlocked her apartment door and entered inside, setting her keys, badge and cell phone on the table near the door. Lindsay tucked her piece carefully into the top drawer inside her bedroom, taking precautions ever since the Frankie case. Lindsay rummaged around her room, finally settling on a simple black dress with a neck line that showed off just enough cleavage to make her feel comfortable in front of male company.

A quick shower later, Lindsay carefully slipped the black fabric on and slipped her black heels on as well. Her hair set to her natural curl and a sleek shine to her plump lips and Lindsay was ready to go. Hailing a cab was easy now that she had experience in it. She gave the address to the driver and waited for her arrival.

<-- 8-->

Lindsay entered the fancy bar, smelling the alcohol the moment she entered. Many choruses of “Lindsay!” and a faded “Montana!” were heard by entry and Lindsay smiled and walked over to the group. Stella was the first to meet her, embracing her with a warm smile. “You look great, Lindsay.” Lindsay smiled and nodded.

The second person to greet her was Flack, who had crashed into her on unsteady feet. Lindsay caught him, albeit uneasily. “Um. Hi, Flack.” Lindsay looked up at Stella, who mouthed back ‘hammered’ to her, at which she nodded.

“Lindsay, I’m so glad you’re here! You’re so pretty. And good! Good at finding the bad guys.” Lindsay looked at him with wide eyes, hearing snickers from her co-workers and Flack’s state of mind. “You’re-you’re good with the um…the DNA.” Flack turned around suddenly, forcing Lindsay to reach out again and catch him. “Hey, Danny, buddy! What’s DNA stand for again? Deidohcom-nunndin-aimstray?”

Lindsay smiled at her friend’s inebriation. “Deoxyribonucleic Acid, buddy ol’ pal.” Flack made an ‘ah’ sound and walked away, most likely in search for more alcohol. Danny smiled and approached Lindsay, shaking his head at his friend’s behavior. “He’s an entertaining drunk, I’ll give ‘im that.” Lindsay nodded and smiled.

“You look great, Montana.” Lindsay blushed, looking down. “Th-” Lindsay’s reply was cut off by a monstrous roar.

Danny and Lindsay looked over to see a sheepish Flack and an enraged Stella. “This was a new dress, Flack!” Flack visibly swallowed and shrugged his shoulders. “Well, at least you smell good now.” Stella’s eyes narrowed and she advanced on Flack, who took off in the opposite direction. Danny laughed outright. “Serves ‘im right. I ‘ope she catches ‘im.” Only Flack could manage to spill a drink on Bonasera.

Lindsay laughed and turned to the bar to order a beer. Grasping the neck of the bottle in her hands, she took a sip of the liquid. “So Montana…” Lindsay looked up as Danny spoke. “I take it this is your first New Year’s Eve?”

<--7-->

Lindsay smiled and went to nod her head and stopped. “Messer, I have celebrated New Year’s Eve before. Just not in New York.” Danny snorted and Lindsay huffed indignantly.

“So, what does that mean, Montana? You and everyone else square-danced with cactuses and watched the ball drop from your rinky-dink televisions?” Danny flashed his trademark smirk. Lindsay put her hands on her hips and glared at him before responding.

“Messer, I bet you’ve never even seen a cactus.” Though the snipe about watching their rinky-dink televisions was mostly correct. “You know, Montana celebrates the same traditions as New York. Well, most of them.” Lindsay had seen some things she thought she’d never see on this job.

“Really, Monroe? Montana has the same traditions as this…teenaged wasteland?” Danny swung his arms around dramatically, making Lindsay wonder if he’d been drinking as well.

“Who are you, The Who?” Lindsay smiled at Danny, but decided to humor him. “The same traditions, Danny. Counting down the last thirty seconds, yelling ‘Happy New Year’, kissing someone once the countdown stops.”

Danny smirked. “Okay, Montana. Prove it.” He looked to the TV in the bar, smiling as the countdown started.

<--6-->

Lindsay smirked and shook her head. “I swear, Messer.” And although she told herself that she wouldn’t fall into his games, or his arms, anymore, she heard herself shouting along with the rest of occupants in the bar. “Thirty, twenty-nine...twenty-eight…” Lindsay looked to see Mac and Stella standing close to each other; no doubt using the excuse of the New Year to kiss each other.

Lindsay was happy for them. Looking over at Flack, she laughed. Seeing her passed-out partner, face down on a table, she guessed he wouldn’t be ringing in the New Year with the rest of the team.

She then looked to Danny.

<--5-->

“Fifteen…fourteen…thirteen…” Danny shouted with everyone else, a hidden smile on his face, glancing at Lindsay from the corner of his eye.

Lindsay turned toward Danny, taking a deep breath. She didn’t have to tell him her secret yet. But would it kill her to let him into her life? Lindsay watched as Danny turned toward her as well, as the countdown continued. She had made her decision.

<--4-->

“Ten…nine…eight...” Lindsay felt herself drawing closer to the New Yorker she had come to adore, with each shouted second. Her breath quickened, as she felt Danny place his hands on her hips, the heat from his palms bleeding through her dress.

Without thinking, she lifted her arms to connect around his neck, bringing their bodies into touching distance. Lindsay watched Danny’s eyes shift from surprised to happy in seconds flat and tightened his arms around the country girl’s waist.

<--3-->

“Five…four…three…” Lindsay tilted her head forward, and parted her lips. Danny’s head came forward as well; his arms bringing their bodies flush up against one another.

“Montana, you sure about this?” Lindsay looked into Danny’s eyes, reading the uncertainty there. She smiled, as she heard, “ONE!” and stood on her tiptoes to reach her partner’s lips in answer.

<--2-->

Lindsay stood lightheaded, glad for Danny’s welcome strength, as he gently bit into her lower lip playfully. A chaste kiss it was, as after he did this, he pulled away and searched her eyes for any sign of what she was thinking.

Lindsay stood rooted, and slowly opened her eyes to gaze into his. She smiled and bit her lip; the same spot Danny had been moments before. Danny’s eyes lightened and he smiled with her, following her gaze, as he (as well as she) took in Mac and Stella kissing rather intensely.

“It’s about time.” Danny smirked at his comment, stopping when he felt a hand on his face, drawing his gaze back to the petite brunette in front of her.

“You’re right about that. Oh, and Danny? Happy New Year.”

<--1-->

“Come on, Cowboy.” Danny smiled at her nickname and brought her closer to his body. Lindsay placed both hands on his chest, reveling in the solidity she found there. Tilting her head up at him, she placed a light kiss upon his lips and pulled back.

“Let's go make tracks.” Danny smirked and nodded his head. “Where were you thinkin’, Montana?”

“Oh, I was thinking my place. The kitchen…most definitely the bed…maybe the shower…”