Fic: Love Only Knows, Without A Trace, Danny/Martin part three

[veronicaluv]

Martin was confused. Happy, but confused. The confusion he understood--it was almost eight-thirty at night, a medicated and bandaged Clancy was snoring peacefully in his big bed by the fireplace, and Danny Taylor was slumped into the deepest part of Martin's couch, arms crossed over his chest, head tilted into a pillow, fast asleep.

This was not a scenario he'd ever envisioned.

The happy part was harder to explain. Oh, he knew he was glad that Danny was there, even though glad hardly began to describe the multitude of emotions that Martin felt as he watched Danny sleep. And on the surface, sure, it was great to have a buddy around the house today, helping him pile up storm debris and take pictures of the damage they'd found on and around Martin's house. Danny had climbed ladders and hauled fallen tree limbs, had helped Martin get Clancy home and, as promised, had checked on Mrs. C and found that all was well with her world since the power had returned mid-morning, just in time for Judge Judy.

It was all so natural, domestic even, as though spending a Saturday doing chores around the house was something they'd done together for years. Even Danny snoring into the couch cushion felt normal, the ease with which he'd settled into Martin's world giving Martin the illusion that this was the way his life was supposed to be.

Or should've been.

Getting up from his chair as quietly as he could, Martin reached for his cane and walked into the kitchen, turning off the TV and lights as he went until only the gas fireplace remained on. Clancy had been carefully--and watchfully--walked and was down for the night, so Martin knew the next thing he needed to do was wake Danny and send him to bed.

Instead, he found himself looking down on Danny as he slept, the flames from the fire sending shadows and light dancing across the part of Danny's face that was visible. His hair was spiked up on one side and the small frown between his eyes had disappeared, taking away the years and showing Martin a vulnerable, relaxed Danny instead of the tired, defeated man Martin had first seen at the dinner the night before.

He was still confused about why Danny was still here. Travel along the eastern seaboard was rapidly returning to normal and Martin knew Danny had every opportunity to leave Virginia, yet each time Martin made an offer to help Danny get home, Danny found something to do, often citing Martin's aching hip as a reason to stick around and help. By lunchtime, Martin had given up, too afraid that Danny would think he was trying to get rid of him when in fact, Martin was trying to figure out a reason to invite Danny back as soon as possible.

It shouldn't have been an issue--old friends recently reunited could easily make future plans to see each other, right? Yet Martin wasn't sure it was a great idea, since he'd be inviting Danny under false pretenses--he was still in love with Danny, and that was a far cry from someone just trying to reignite an old friendship.

He was so lost in thought he didn't notice that Danny was watching him until Danny moved, reaching out with his hand and hooking his little finger around Martin's. Martin was startled by the gesture, curling his finger automatically and securing their hands together.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Martin whispered, "why don't you head on to bed?"

"What time is it?" Danny's voice was equally hushed.

"I don't know, about nine, I guess."

Danny closed his eyes and leaned his head back into the cushion, though he retained his hold on Martin. "Jesus, it's only nine? Couple of old men, that's what we are. Can't stay up late any more."

"Yeah, and not getting any sleep last night has nothing to do with it." Martin disentangled their fingers and held out his hand. "C'mon, old man, let me give you a hand up."

Danny took Martin's hand and Martin let Danny get his feet solidly beneath him before giving it a tug. Danny stood up but for some reason, he over-balanced and leaned into Martin, who took a step back and got tangled with his cane. He stumbled but Danny was right there, throwing his arm around Martin and drawing him close.

"You okay?" Danny asked.

Martin didn't answer. He couldn't. Danny's arm was tight around his waist, his other hand coming up to clasp Martin's arm just above the elbow, effectively encircling Martin in a strong, steadying embrace. And Danny's face--Danny's mouth--was so close, so damn close, that whatever Martin thought he was going to say was lost. All he could do was stare into Danny's brown eyes, knowing he was revealing his heart, praying Danny wouldn't be able to read his expression in the dim light.

"Yeah, I'm--I'm good," Martin stuttered.

"Are you sure?" Danny's voice, was soft, his words a teasing admonition.

Martin's defenses--never very strong around Danny to begin with--were disintegrating beneath the heat in Danny's gaze. Danny was warm everywhere they connected, his arm around Martin's waist, his hand resting on Martin's upper arm--the warmth flowed beneath Martin's skin and left him feeling flushed and chilled at the same time. Danny's eyes never left his and Martin found he couldn't look away, because he knew that when this ended, when Danny released him and went to bed, Martin would relive this moment and hold on to it for the rest of his life.

Danny's hand on Martin's arm was shifting, curving beneath Martin's elbow, fingers sliding over the thin fabric of Martin's t-shirt.

"Martin?" Danny's mouth turned up at the corner. "Still with me?"

"Yeah, yeah," Martin whispered, "I should--"

Danny edged closer. "You should what?"

"Danny--"

"Martin. Listen to me, listen to what I have to say. I have this feeling that I'm about to do something stupid and I really need to tell you about it first."

"Tell me first?" Caught by the gleam of firelight reflected in Danny's eyes, all thoughts of moving away fled from Martin's mind. Danny's voice was low, beguiling, a hint of tension behind the teasing. "Is that a good idea? Maybe I'll try and talk you out of it."

Danny laughed, almost too softly for Martin to hear. "Okay, hot shot, would you try and talk me out of kissing you?"

Martin's breath left him on a silent hiss. Danny was a natural flirt, something that used to aggravate Martin as much as it fascinated him, but there was nothing flirtatious about Danny's challenge. Staring at Danny, Martin slowly moved his head from side to side.

"I think," he paused to lick his bottom lip, "I think it might not be the stupidest idea you've ever had."

Danny's eyebrows rose as he reached down and took Martin's cane out of his hand, tossing it aside. "Not a ringing endorsement, but I'll take it."

"I have another idea." Martin lifted his free hand and cupped Danny's jaw. "How about taking this instead?"

Just a kiss, it's only a kiss, don't stop, don't--Martin pressed his mouth to Danny's. He meant it to be only a touch, maybe even a game, ready to protect his heart if Danny laughed and pushed him away. But a sigh from Danny, the brush of Danny's knuckles against his jaw, and Martin's eyes fell shut. This was no game, this wasn't a test, this was Danny Taylor's mouth opening beneath his own, and Danny Taylor's arms pulling him close until their bodies were flush against each other.

The kiss ended when Martin turned his head away and down. He wanted to take a moment to think, to gather himself before facing whatever Danny had in store for him. Since Danny had first challenged Martin about a kiss, Martin wasn't afraid of rejection--in fact, just the opposite. If this is was they both wanted, then two lives would change tonight, a blindsiding, earth-shattering change that Martin already knew he was ready to accept.

With that thought in his mind, he took a deep breath and looked up into Danny's eyes. What he saw there was what he expected, what his entire heart was now convinced had been waiting for him all these years. Danny's eyes were bright and warm, his hand still on Martin's cheek, cupping it now, just the tips of his fingers brushing Martin's ear.

"So," Martin murmured, "I, uh, I thought that went pretty well. How about you?"

Danny outright laughed at that, though he didn't relinquish his hold on Martin as he rocked back. "I'm thinking we did a pretty good job, actually. Want to try again, make sure we got it right?"

Martin frowned, having not thought beyond the last kiss to even wonder about looking forward to another. The idea sent a shiver up his spine--he could do this again--hell, he could probably do it all night, the way Danny was looking at him.

But what about beyond tonight? Tomorrow would still come, but what new truth would it bring?

"I do," he admitted. "But, Danny, here's the thing."

"Oh, no." Danny leaned his forehead against Martin's. "Don't do this to me."

"No, listen, okay? You're going home tomorrow--"

"Or Monday. Monday's good."

Martin couldn't hold back the smile that appeared when he recognized the stubborn inflection in Danny's voice. That, more than anything, reminded Martin of why he'd fallen in love with Danny so many years ago. "Yeah, or Monday. But listen to me. As long as we're just standing around here chatting, I may as well tell you the truth."

Martin kept his tone light, knowing that Danny was reading him like any good profiler, trying to figure out if Martin was being straight with him or preparing him for something he didn't want to hear.

"Yeah, okay, I'll bite. What do you need to tell me?"

Martin smoothed a wrinkle at the shoulder of Danny's sweater. "When I told you I'd fallen in love with someone all those years ago--"

"It was me," Danny finished for him. "I know."

Martin took a reflexive step back, but Danny didn't cede any ground, taking that step with him and keeping Martin in a firm, steadying embrace.

"No," Martin said, "no, you don't. You couldn't. I was careful, I never let it show."

"Hey, hey, relax, I said I know but what I meant to say was that I know now. You're right, back then, I had no idea. I swear I just figured it out."

Martin didn't know what to say. It was all happening too fast, so fast that he felt the burn of panic start to flare in the pit of his stomach. "Danny, I'm--I'm so sorry."

Whatever reaction Martin was expecting from Danny, it wasn't more laughter. Danny was shaking his head, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he caught his breath.

"Only you," Danny said softly, "would apologize in this situation."

Martin saw some of the humor in Danny's words, but this wasn't something he could afford to screw up. "Yeah, okay, I'm a little thrown by all this."

"By what?"

"By what? Hell, by you! Why aren't you running out of the house screaming right now? This can't be anything you expected--"

It was just as well that Danny chose that moment to kiss him again, because Martin was pretty good at being his own worst enemy, and finding reasons to convince Danny that this was a very bad idea were all too easy to come up with.

But Danny was kissing him, and kissing him hard, like he meant it, maybe like it meant more to him than expressing affection based on what they used to be to each other. It'd been a while, but Martin could feel passion in Danny's touch, in the stroke of Danny's tongue against his own, in quick, searching touches and a muffled sigh that told Martin that this wasn't just affection Danny was feeling, it was desire. And as much as he was caught off guard by the reality that Danny's fingers were teasing his skin beneath the edges of his t-shirt, he suddenly realized that he had no idea what Danny was actually thinking.

With great reluctance, he shifted away from Danny, putting just enough space between them so that Danny understood that Martin needed to stop. But Danny, being Danny, was undeterred by Martin's move and although he let Martin back off a bit, he kept his hands anchored on Martin's hips, the tips of his fingers lingering just beneath the elastic waistband of Martin's sweatpants.

"Danny," Martin began, then paused. How could he distill all his past fears and, more importantly, any future hopes into a few words? "Okay, straight up, having you here, seeing you again, it's been beyond anything I could ever have hoped for. But that's me, you know? How I felt about you--feel about you--it's what I've learned to live with. Up until two days ago, you'd forgotten I'd existed."

"No," Danny said instantly, "no, that's not true. I never forgot you, Martin."

"Okay, okay, maybe that's the wrong word. But I wasn't any part of your life, even after you and Elena broke up. So how can this be happening?"

Danny stared at him, brown eyes unreadable. "I don't--I don't know, it just is. Being here, being with you, it's like everything just clicked."

"Yeah," Martin said, "I get that. But tomorrow, or Monday, you go back to your life and I go back to mine. And Jesus, Danny, as hard as it's going to be to let you go, it'll be a lot harder if we let this go any further tonight."

Danny looked like he'd been kicked. "So what you're saying is--"

Martin stopped him, placing his palm against Danny's cheek. "What I'm saying is that I'd give anything in the world to make love to you tonight--anything except the life I'm going to have to put back together without you after you go home."

They were difficult words to say, made even more difficult to live with when Danny let him go completely and walked a few steps away to kneel next to Clancy's bed, where Clancy woke up long enough to acknowledge Danny's presence with a flicker of his tail before putting his head back down. Martin watched him, his chest growing tight until he forced himself to look away, positive he'd said the right thing and hating himself for every word.

"Okay."

Martin looked up to see Danny standing in front of him, hands on his hips and a quirk to his mouth that immediately put Martin on alert. He knew that expression, it's the one Danny got when he was convinced of something and hell-bent on getting everyone else to think his way.

"Okay what?"

"Okay, this is the part of the conversation where I talk and you listen, because this is what I've figured out."

"Danny, you don't have to--"

Danny held up one finger, silencing Martin. "First. We haven't seen each other for almost five years but, now tell me if I'm wrong, it's like we've picked up almost exactly where we left off. Tell me it doesn't feel that way."

Shrugging, Martin nodded. "It does, I admit it. That's exactly how I've felt all along." He shifted his feet, noting with dismay that his hip had locked from standing too long without his cane.

"So what does that mean? Wait, I'll tell you what it means, it means that there's more going on here than a couple of former co-workers who run into each other at a party, swap cell phone numbers, and promise to meet for lunch."

"Danny." Martin's smile was apologetic, because the last thing he wanted to do was take anything away from this opportunity to hear Danny share his heart. "Don't lose that thought, but man, I have to sit down. Can you give me a hand?"

If Danny's stricken expression hadn't made Martin feel guilty, the speed with which Danny came to his side and helped him ease down onto the couch certainly did. And damn it, the stupid thing was that maybe he didn't need too much help sitting down--his hip was just stiff, not sore--but God, he'd forgotten what it felt like to have someone care.

Maria had cared, of course, but she'd also ignored Martin's bad hip, for the most part. Martin had preferred it that way, instead of having her make a fuss, but he was just selfish enough tonight to want that kind of attention from Danny.

To his relief, Danny sat right down beside him, angling his body so that his knee was perpendicular to Martin's thigh. He propped his elbow on the back of couch and rested his cheek on it, so close that Martin could feel the heat from his body.

"Well, that was embarrassing," Martin muttered.

"No, no, I'm an idiot, I should've been paying attention." He put his hand on Martin's knee. "I'll do better next time."

Martin laughed a little at that, since that was exactly what they'd been discussing before his hip situation interrupted Danny. "Yeah, next time. What about next time?"

"That's the point I was trying to make, okay? You talk as if these two days are all we'll have, and I just don't see it that way."

"You don't?"

"Not at all."

"Then what do you see?"

Danny scooted closer, laying his arm on the back of the couch behind Martin's shoulders. He didn't answer for a few moments, his dark eyelashes hiding his thoughts from Martin until he looked up again and nodded.

"Okay. This is what I see. I see us making plans, working out our schedules, arranging time to be together. I see you calling me in the morning to wake me up and telling me not to shoot any of my clients and then me telling you the same thing about your students." He placed his hand over Martin's, threading their fingers together on Martin's thigh. "I see long weekends in Philadelphia watching baseball and sharing a pizza in Dumbo and me spending Thanksgiving here with you and Clancy."

"Is that--"

"Hold on, I'm not done. Want to know what else I see? I see us screwing up and making assumptions and both of us thinking this is never going to work out. But beyond all that, beyond all the drama and the obstacles and the stupid decisions we'll make in the middle of the night when we're apart, do you know what I see?"

"No," Martin whispered, entranced and terrified by the picture Danny was painting with his words.

But Danny just grinned at him, then leaned forward to press his mouth to Martin's ear.

"Us, Martin. I see us."

Martin closed his eyes, Danny's quiet voice resounding in his head. How could there be a future with Danny? How could Danny want that with Martin after only twenty-four hours of being together? Turning his head, he looked into Danny's eyes, so warm, so close, and Martin desperately wanted to believe in the magic he was weaving with his words.

"One day, Danny. How can you see all that after only one day?"

Danny's expression turned wistful as he bit his bottom lip. "Yeah, about that. I guess I have a confession to make."

Martin shivered when he felt Danny's fingers stroke his hair just behind his ear. "Okay, that sounds ominous. What is it?"

"I know now why Elena and I were a mistake."

"Now? I thought you said the two of you just grew apart. Isn't that what happened?"

"Maybe," Danny said with as shrug. "Or maybe it was the natural outcome when two people should never have been together in the first place."

"C'mon, Danny, we all saw how the two of you felt. What are you saying, that you never loved her?"

"I'm saying that I thought she was everything I wanted, and I was wrong." Danny rested his head against Martin's. "All I ever wanted was you."

~~~

For better or worse, it was out there, and Martin would either believe him or not. In the end, it didn't matter. Martin may have to rationalize the whole thing into something he could deal with, but for Danny, after his private revelation earlier, saying the words aloud gave him an unexpected sense of peace.

He'd known that feeling before. Finally admitting he was an alcoholic had taken such a weight off his shoulders that despite the constant battle not to drink, a battle he fought every day, the truth had given him the strength to go on and achieve goals that would have been forever out of his reach without it. This was a lot like that--he couldn't anticipate Martin's reaction, he could only be responsible for his own feelings, and admitting to Martin that he'd actually loved him far longer than he'd ever known was Danny's way of laying a foundation of truth for whatever came next.

That's what his head told him. His heart was another matter. In fact, his heart was pounding hard, his entire body taut with anticipation as he waited for Martin to respond to his declaration. Deliberately relaxing his hand, he stroked the top of Martin's wrist with his thumb, eyes closed, content to let Martin work it through.

Martin's hand suddenly clenched around Danny's fingers. "You realize," he said slowly, "the fact that neither of us picked up on what we had going on between us makes us quite probably the worst profilers in FBI history."

Danny laughed outright at that, leaning back to look into Martin's eyes. "Well, I'm not going to tell Jack if you aren't."

Martin groaned, resting the back of his head on the sofa near Danny's arm and then chuckling as he covered his eyes with his free hand. "Oh, my God, can you imagine what he'd say?"

"I'm pretty sure the word idiot would be used repeatedly, along with a lot of other opinions regarding our powers of observation."

"Yeah, well, he'd have a point."

"Which is exactly my point. Martin, look at me." He waited until Martin uncovered his eyes and tilted his head in Danny's direction. "I don't want to waste any more time. I know things may have changed for you, so all I'm saying is that we need to give this a chance. Yeah, there will be obstacles--"

"Let's do it."

"And I know--wait, what? Let's do what?"

"I'm in." Martin's gaze fell to Danny's mouth. "Early morning wake-up calls, Phillies games, Thanksgiving, everything."

Danny swallowed, thrown by this unexpected offer of a life he suddenly couldn't live without. Martin was looking up at him, those expressive eyes that had caught Danny's attention from the day they'd met now filled with sleepy, affectionate amusement, waiting for Danny's reply.

And really, there was only one to give. Curving his hand around the nape of Martin's neck, he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to Martin's. Allowing himself a quick smile when Martin leaned into his shoulder, he deepened the kiss, sliding his hand across Martin's t-shirt to his hip, drawing him closer.

It was a languid, sweet kiss, the shy touch of Martin's tongue against his spreading a pool of warmth in his belly that told him how good it was going to be between them--when they got that far. It wasn't happening tonight, Danny knew that and he assumed Martin was in agreement, since they were both exhausted.

With a bittersweet laugh, Danny pulled back. "Now that we've got that settled, maybe we should call it a night."

Martin tightened his grip on Danny's sweater, then he let him go. "Yeah, I suppose so. We still need to figure out how to get you back home, you know."

"I know." Danny stood up and held out his hand. "I'll go online tomorrow and book a commuter flight back first thing Monday morning. Does that work for you?"

"No problem, I'll have to reschedule a morning conference, but my student will probably thank me for it." He waved off Danny's offered hand. "Listen, I'm crashing on the couch tonight in case Clancy needs to get up or gets restless."

"Makes sense. Let's see if we can make you more comfortable." Danny put his hands on his hips and looked around. "Where do you keep the extra blankets?"

"Just grab the comforter and pillow off my bed, that'll work."

"Got it."

When Danny returned to the living room carrying linen from both beds, Martin started laughing at him. He was already laying down, a throw pillow tucked beneath his head.

"What are you doing? You don't need to sleep out here, too."

"I know." He handed Martin his pillow, then draped the comforter over his legs. "But after all we've been through together--you, me, and Snoring Beauty over there--no way am I sleeping alone. Hey, does this thing recline?"

A few minutes later, laying back in the recliner with the pillow and blanket from his own bed, Danny tried to settle into sleep. He could already hear Martin's deep breathing and he let the sound wash over him, imagining what it would be like to hear that sound sharing the same bed, with Martin heavy in his arms after making love.

Gazing into the fire, eyelids growing heavy, he continued to let his imagination have free rein over the immediate future, fleshing out the vision he'd shared earlier with Martin. They'd been friends when they'd worked together, but that friendship had been tested by extraordinary circumstances. Now they could take the time to learn more about each other, to learn everything. Danny already knew how Martin liked his coffee, and that he hated country music, and that he had a secret weakness for those little cinnamon buns of dubious origin you could only get in convenience stores.

Now Danny wanted to find out what Martin had dreamed about being when he grew up, and what he liked to read, and where he was ticklish. And tomorrow was going to be their new beginning, their chance to start over and get it right.

He awoke to a cold nose pressed to his lax hand where it dangled off the arm of the recliner, followed by a warm lick on his fingers that made him shiver. That was his cue to get up, and as soon as he'd climbed out of the nest of blankets he'd made in the recliner, he saw Martin in the kitchen, already showered and dressed and making breakfast. He hadn't noticed that Danny was awake and so Danny had a moment to watch him putter in the kitchen, expertly cracking eggs into a bowl with one hand while he read something off the cell phone he held in the other. He'd combed his hair but it was still wet and the black t-shirt he was wearing was too big and stretched out at the collar, and Danny thought he was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

That thought made him smile a little. He knew what beauty was--he'd been married to a woman judged by anyone's standards, including his own, as phenomenally beautiful. But it had been an untouchable kind of beauty, as Danny had learned, a transparent barrier he could never quite get past in order to connect with the real Elena. In the end, that was what had doomed them, their inability to reach that most intimate level of partnership where they made choices together, not separately with the hope that somehow it'd all work out when the dust settled.

Danny saw Martin as beautiful because he was looking at him through the eyes of a man in love, but he wasn't blind to Martin's faults--or his, own for that matter. If they'd had baggage the day they'd parted in the lobby of the FBI building, five years later they'd only added to the collection. The often rocky friendship they'd shared on and off the job had worn away their ability to lie to each other, and with five years between them and the constant stress of the missing persons unit forever behind them, they were coming together for no other reason than they'd found they'd loved each other all along.

Martin looked up from mixing eggs and smiled at Danny, those stupid, wonderful dimples making Danny's stomach flutter.

"Morning," Martin said. "Your back as sore as mine?"

Danny bent over to scratch a patiently waiting Clancy behind the ears. "Yeah, not too bad. How's our boy here?"

"He's good. Everything seems to be working just fine, including his appetite, so no sneaking him any bacon from the table, okay?"

Danny went down on one knee, rubbing Clancy's belly but staying well away from the bandage that circled his abdomen. "Hear that, Clance? Dad said no bacon. But," he lowered his voice to a stage whisper, "if he happens to look away, I'll see what I can do."

Apparently, Clancy thought this was a marvelous idea and demonstrated his approval by walking over to the breakfast bar and laying down next to one of the stools, ears pricked forward as if waiting for Danny's signal.

"Oh, I get it," Danny straightened up and sauntered into the kitchen, "this whole bacon thing is rigged. I bet he gets some every morning and you're just trying to make me the fall guy now so you don't feel guilty."

Martin held his arms out from his sides. "Damn, you're on to me. You are still one mighty fine detective."

"Shut up," Danny said. He slid his arms around Martin's waist and pulled him close. "And good morning."

They shared a quick kiss--the casual, I-love-you kind of kiss that brought a smile to Danny's face as they parted.

"I could get used to this," he muttered.

"I'm counting on it." Martin pressed another kiss to Danny's lips before turning away to pick up a spatula. "Sorry there's no time to shower before breakfast. I wanted to wake you up earlier but Clancy thought we should let you sleep. Do you want some orange juice? Glasses are in the cupboard to your right."

They made breakfast together and sat down, the whole day ahead of them to plan and enjoy. If there wasn't as much of the breathless anticipation that Danny and Elena had started out with, it was more than compensated by the bone-deep contentment that seemed to be growing with every moment spent in Martin's company.

Then there was the sheer luxury of knowing that sooner or later, that afternoon or maybe after dinner, they'd take that most intimate of steps, the one Danny knew would bind them together as they were always meant to be. Danny wasn't exactly new to thinking that Martin was attractive--the dimples, the blue eyes, the broad shoulders--he'd taken notice from the moment Jack had introduced the newbie from Seattle to the team. Of course, Sam had noticed the same things, and although it'd been painful to watch that play out, Danny had never once thought that he'd be on the receiving end of that all-American charm.

It was as Danny was slipping Clancy the last of his bacon that he heard his phone ringing from his bedroom. He'd left it in there to recharge, so he wiped his mouth and excused himself to go answer it as Martin began clearing off the dishes.

And with that one phone call, the outside world came crashing back into their lives.

"What is it?"

Martin had taken one look at Danny's face when he returned to the kitchen and apparently it was plain to see that their time together was over. Danny took a seat at the counter, phone still in his hand, and frowned.

"I've got to get back home as soon as possible." He rubbed his hand over his face and grimaced as his fingers encountered early morning stubble on his chin. "One of my clients has been arrested."

"That doesn't sound good." Martin sat down beside him. "Is it serious?"

"Serious enough. Frankie's been in and out of trouble for years, but he's never done something like this."

"Like what?"

"Like assault. Stupid bar fight, I guess. They're going to arraign him first thing tomorrow morning."

"And you need to be there."

"Honestly? Frankie's been riding the line a little too close for years, and my guess is that he will soon be a guest of the state of New York, despite my best efforts. It's his family I'm worried about. He's got a mom and a kid sister still in high school. I need to get back and see what I can do to help them."

"Man, Danny, I'm sorry."

"It never changes, does it?" Danny stood up, his disappointment at being taken from Martin's side heightened by the realization that this was yet another lost cause he was about to fight.

Martin got to his feet and pulled Danny into a comforting embrace that Danny returned because the freedom to do so went a long way toward easing that disappointment. "What never changes?"

Danny paused before answering. "You remember some of those cases we worked? The ones where we tried so hard to find someone, thinking we were doing a good thing, when it turned out that no matter what we did, it came out wrong?"

"Yeah, sure. Those were the nights I went home wondering if what we did made any difference at all."

"Exactly. I thought becoming a lawyer would make those nights go away, because I'd always be helping people who needed me." He shook his head, then tightened his arms around Martin, turning his face into the warm crook of Martin's neck and inhaling his clean, soapy scent. "It never gets better."

"It will," Martin murmured, "it will." And Danny believed him, because this happened, this amazing, unlooked-for miracle between them happened, and that's what Danny held on to, that and Martin's hand, during the drive to DCA later that morning.

Arriving home in the early evening with three pages of notes he'd made on the flight home tucked beneath his arm, the weekend he'd spent with Martin was already beginning to feel unreal. His apartment, as cold and unwelcoming as the day he'd moved in, felt like alien territory, so different than Martin's home, where everything was warm and comfortable. He'd taken this furnished apartment the day he'd been served with divorce papers, not caring that the mattress was lumpy and the hot water took almost five minutes to reach any faucet. With his marriage over, he'd thrown himself into his work, and the apartment was useful only in that it was close enough to Elena so that Danny could help with Sophie--but then even that was taken from him.

He'd just set down his luggage inside the door and turned on a lamp when his cell phone started ringing. He almost didn't answer it, since he'd already returned the calls from Frankie's mom and he had a bag full of hot Chinese food he was anxious to eat it before it congealed.

But a quick glance at the caller ID changed his mind in an instant and, Chinese food forgotten, he answered it.

"I miss you," were the first words out of his mouth.

"Glad to hear it," was Martin's amused reply, "because I've been googling how long it'd take me to drive to Brooklyn and if that technically qualifies as stalker behavior."

"About five hours. I-95 is faster than the turnpike, I already checked. And no, it wouldn't. Not legally, anyway."

"Good to know. You get home okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, just walked in the door." He wriggled out of his jacket and tossed it aside, then flopped down in the only comfortable chair. "How's Clancy? Vet appointment tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah, tomorrow morning before work. He seems to be doing fine, still not up for much, but then sleeping is what he does best. Any news on your case?"

"Just what I got from Frankie's mother. I'll get a chance to speak to him before his arraignment in the morning."

"Good, okay. Listen, I don't want to keep you, just wanted to check in, make sure you made it home. And," there was a slight pause, "I know this is going to sound corny, but I wanted to hear your voice."

Danny closed his eyes and let his head fall against the back of the chair. He didn't say anything right away--he couldn't. Too many emotions were crowding inside his head, but words and phrases that normally would have brought up intense feelings of loneliness had been washed away by the healing balm of Martin's artless confession.

"This is going to be harder than I thought," Danny finally said.

"What is?" There was a hint of concern in Martin's voice that Danny was quick to allay.

"Being away from you," he murmured. "Going back to a life I'm not sure I want anymore."

"Yeah," Martin sighed, "I hear that. I've been thinking about leaving Quantico for a while, but now I don't know how much work I want to put into convincing myself to stay."

"What else would you do?"

"Not a clue. You?"

Danny shifted in his chair to ease his back muscles. "I don't know. Up until this weekend, being a lawyer was all I had. I haven't thought about doing anything else."

When Martin replied, Danny knew he was doing his best to sound upbeat. "Well, it's not like we have to make any decisions tonight, right? And you're probably tired, so I'll let you go."

"Okay, just promise me one thing."

"Sure, what?"

"Call me in the morning?"

There was a brief silence but this time when Martin spoke, Danny could hear the smile in his voice.

"You got it."

Part four