DnA owns my soul, always and forever. No matter how much I might, possibly, maybe have the tiniest bit of liking to Danny/Lindsey... ;)
Anyhoo, this came to me today. Set somewhere post 202. Hope you like xx
The first time it happened, it was a mistake.
He found himself at Aiden's door with a pizza and a bottle of tequila, hoping for a friendly ear. It had been a particularly harrowing week at work, with a gang shooting the school of a rival gang leader's child. Twelve children had died in all, including two teachers. Needless. Disgusting. Heartbreaking.
It had taken three days to process the scene alone, and then being ripped from the heated interrogations by a wary Mac had just topped it all. Danny wondered if he could go on in this job sometimes.
His other friends would tell him to 'suck it up', or 'be a man'. They just didn't understand or appreciate what kind of evils he saw on a daily basis. Maybe that was a good thing. Aiden had lived it though. She had been through it all; seen it all; couldn't quite handle it all.
He wouldn't tell her that he was coming, or what kind of week he'd had. He would just turn up, tequila in hand, and she'd let him in. She'd park him on the couch, grab the shot glasses and napkins and listen to him vent.
When he finally had it all of his system, she wouldn't give him advise of how to cope, or tell him to forget it and move on. She knew that that never worked. Those feelings would never go away, no matter what she told him.
Sometimes she had to talk him out of drunkenly calling up old 'friends' and working on a bit of 'urban renewal'. That was never the answer.
Usually after a couple of hours, Danny would crash out on the couch, Aiden covering him with the blanket. She'd wake him the next morning with coffee, aspirin and plenty of time to get home and changed before work.
On the week of the school shooting, he hadn't woken up on the couch. His eyes painfully fluttered open, the morning light assaulting his red eyes. The marching band in his head performing an all-percussion rendition of …something very loud. He turned over, his head berating himself for the speed. When his eyes finally focussed, he wasn't ready for what lay next to him.
He sat up quickly, a loud groan coming from him as he held his throbbing head.
Aiden's eyes opened at the growl. She wasn't quite as sore, but just as shocked.
She slipped out of the bed, wrapping the sheet around her naked body. Danny watched her go. He didn't say anything to her, couldn't even comprehend a possible string of coherence to explain. Or apologise.
He was dressed and fastening his shirt when she came back. She walked into the bedroom wearing jogging trousers and a tight tee-shirt, some coffee and aspirin in her hands.
"We were drunk," she said, sitting next to him on the bed and looking out of the window. "We were drunk, and needed to work off some steam."
"Right," he nodded, knocking back the pills and drink.
"No advantages were taken. It was just sex," she told him.
"Right," he nodded again, thankful she felt that way.
"You'd better get to work. I'll talk to you later."
Danny stood up, grabbing his tie and jacket from the chair, wondering how they ended up in the bedroom. He slipped the jacket over his arms, stuffing the tie in the pocket, praising whoever was above to feel an empty condom wrapper in there. He dreaded to think where the actual condom had ended up.
He sent her flowers that day. He fought with himself over how she would react to them. Would they be construed as a kind of payment? Have sex with me and I'll send you flowers. Or would she see them as an apology from an embarrassed man who hoped beyond belief he hadn't just ruined the entire friendship?
It was the latter.
The second time it had happened, they were drunk again. Not quite as drunk as the first time, but still in pain when they woke up next to each other. They didn't react the same way though.
When they turned to the other, eyes barely slits in paled and drawn faces, they chuckled. They couldn't believe that it had happened again.
Danny smirked, telling her that they shouldn't keep meeting like that.
Aiden wearily moved her arm to swat his chest, before getting up and grabbing coffee and aspirin.
He sent her flowers again. She accepted the unnecessary apology again.
The third time, they weren't even drunk. Danny arrived with the pizza and tequila; Aiden took them from him, putting them on the table near the door, and just kissed him.
Someone's foot closed the door, Aiden's fingers grasping at his hair, Danny's hands stroking the skin on her back.
They stumbled their way to her bedroom, clothes strewn in their wake.
They ate the pizza after they woke in the early hours. It was cold but tasted amazing. They had the coffee but didn't need the aspirin.
His still sent her flowers. She still accepted the apology (even though she had initiated the night).
It went on like that for months. Sometimes Aiden had text Danny, asking him to bring the pizza and tequila after she had had a bad day.
Danny kept bringing the tequila, although it was barely touched now. The cupboard under her sink was full of bottles.
As time went on, the bottles had gotten smaller. He wouldn't bring a full size one now, maybe a half sized. They laughed when he just turned up with two miniature bottles.
He still sent flowers the morning after. They laughed when he turned up with the flowers the night before. It was just a habit now.
One day he turned up at her door with a single red rose, two miniature bottles of tequila and two slices of pizza. He smiled knowingly at her, she frowned and asked him to sit down.
She told him she had met someone at work, that they were dating, and that whatever she and Danny had had to stop. She said that whatever they had was only sex anyway, but that she was sorry; that she should have told him about Vic.
He said he was happy for her; that, like she said, they only had sex anyway. He gave her the flower, drink and pizza and said that he should maybe go.
She nodded, said that he could still come over after a bad day, but that it might be better if he phoned first.
He said he would, but he never did. He never went back over to her home. If he had a bad day he went to Sullivan's, or the shooting range, or the gym.
When he saw Aiden at his door one day, he didn't know what to say. She handed him a single red rose, two miniature bottles of tequila and two slices of pizza. She said that Vic was a nice guy, but that it wasn't going to work out. He said he was sorry, she said she wasn't.
She shut the door behind herself, he took a step back, telling her he wasn't sure he could do this again. Just be 'fuck buddies'.
She said she didn't just want to be 'fuck buddies'. Unless, of course, he didn't want her at all?
He took the items from her, put them on the table and forced her back against the door, his mouth attacking hers. When his kisses moved to her neck, she laughed that she took it as a 'yes' then.