Twelve Days of Christmas CSI:NY

Spoilers up to Season 3: “The Santa in the Slush”

A/N: This is the final chapter, and my last chance to say thank you to all the people who have been reading the story, who have been putting it on alerts, and especially all who have been leaving reviews. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the comments, the questions, and even the complaints! I always gain something from the people who tell me what they like, hate, or want to see happen.

Disclaimer: The characters and the show CSI:NY are the intellectual property of their creators and CBS TV.

The Feast of Epiphany: January 6

Fiera della Befana

Online-Dictionary - epiphany: A sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience.

“Are you sure about this, Danny?”

“What do you mean – am I sure? Of course I am.” Leaning on the railing of the ferry motoring on its way to Staten Island, Danny looked at Lindsay over his shoulder. “They’ll love you, Montana. Don’t even worry about it.”

Lindsay nervously pushed her hands through her hair again, trying to keep it from getting irretrievably tangled in the wind. She tugged her coat a little closer around her, pulling her scarf over her ears.

Danny watched her out of the corner of his eye with some amusement. Lindsay usually showed her nerves by talking, spewing out facts and trivia like a Jeopardy champ. But standing out on the deck of the ferry, as he preferred, was cold and talking was a little difficult, even for a girl from Montana.

He stared out at the New York skyline, lighting up the night sky. He loved this city. He reached out and gathered Lindsay in beside him, dropping a kiss on her head before he began pointing out his own personal landmarks, talking quietly into her ear until he felt her settle against him, relaxing slowly into his warmth.

“Umm, Lindsay?”

“What?”

“I just wanted to warn you …”

She pulled away swiftly, slapping a hand against his chest. “I knew it,” she groaned. “You didn’t tell your mother I was coming. Danny, how could you?” She pushed him again, and he grabbed her hand, chuckling.

“Relax, Montana. Of course I told her you were coming. I just haven’t explained Fiera della Befana to you.”

Her stiff body loosened just enough for him to pull her tightly against him, but she still glared at him suspiciously. “What is Fiera della Befana?”

“Italian Christmas. Epiphany – the day the Magi found the stable and gave their gifts to the Christ child.” He looked at Lindsay sideways, half-expecting her to laugh. But she was nodding seriously, and he went on.

“We take down the tree and decorations. And someone in the neighbourhood always opens house to everyone else, but everyone brings food. You know Stella’s Vassilopitta?”

She nodded, sliding her hands under his jacket to warm her fingers.

“We decorate a Kings' Cake – with a bean or a charm baked into it for the King and Queen of the Feast. The kids all want that piece, because it means they get to boss everyone else around.” He closed his eyes and breathed her in.

“Food. There’s lots of food and wine and lots of noise. We’re going to the Amidoris’ house this year, and they have ten kids. Plus 22 grandkids the last time I saw them. Probably more by now.” Danny’s voice was contemplative.

“A sore spot with Mrs. Messer,” Lindsay thought, and rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“And the kids play out the story of Befana, an old woman who refused to go with the Magi because her house wasn’t clean. Then she followed them later, but couldn’t find the Baby. So she leaves gifts for any child she comes across, in case it is the one she is looking for.” His voice slowed a little.

Lindsay looked at him in shock. “You mean – you exchange gifts? Danny! I don’t have anything for your mother. How could you not tell me?” She could feel her stomach clench. Of all the mistakes to make the first time you met someone’s mother, this had to be the biggest. She had a bottle of wine, carefully selected with Flack’s advice, but that – that was just a hostess gift. Not a Befana gift.

Danny tightened his grip. “That’s what I am trying to tell you, Montana. I thought a lot about what you said.”

“What? What did I say?” Lindsay’s mind was going a mile a minute, trying to figure out what they could pick up on their way to the Messers’ house that wouldn’t look like something she had grabbed on her way to the house.

“Lindsay. Listen to me.” Danny wrapped his hands around her face, forcing her to look into his eyes, forcing her racing mind to go still.

“You. You’re the gift I am taking my mother for Fiera della Befana.”

She stared at him, her mouth open in shock.

“Do you understand?”

Slowly, she nodded, closing her eyes.

He wiped her tears away with his thumbs, covering her mouth with his as the ferry docked at the St George terminal.

And when the door opened at the Messer household, he put an arm around her and one around his mother and said, “Mama, I’d like you to meet Lindsay Monroe. My Montana.”

And from the smile that lit his face, from the tears in his mother’s eyes when she pulled Lindsay into her arms, from the warm feeling that filled Lindsay, it was enough.

Just that. Messer and his Montana.

More than enough.