A Little Tradition

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Part of the First Kiss Series

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Danny Messer waited patiently for the coffee to finish brewing, tapping his fingers tiredly on the counter, letting his attention be caught by the smear of green above the door. The force of his tears brimming in his eyes felt like a punch in his chest, and he looked away, regaining his composure after a few minutes. He slid his frames off of his face, wiping his eyes quickly before balancing them again across the bridge of his nose.

This would be the first Christmas since Aiden's death, and he hadn't expected the tiny branch of mistletoe to be hanging in its place over the door. It had been missing last year; maybe because Aiden had only recently lost her job at that point, or because really, it had only started as a cheesy gimmick to corner her on Flack's part.

He had been the one to suggest it in the first place, years ago when he recognized the softened look in his friend's eyes. Put up a sprig of mistletoe, he had said. It's lame, but a man's gotta do, you know? Plus, you'd make up for it, kissin' her like she's the only girl in the city. Flack had laughed him off, but with the first week of December came a tiny bunch of distinct green leaves. It had worked, and dutifully, it had become tradition, even after things between Aiden and Flack had fizzled.

Now, however, it broke his heart. Maybe it was Flack's way of surviving the season without her. They were all struggling with it, if only a little. He shrugged it off, moving mechanically to pour dark coffee into his mug, watching the steam rise in lethargic swirls.

"Hey." Danny Messer turned toward the sound of Lindsay's soft alto, placing the decanter of fresh coffee back onto its hotplate. He stepped away from the counter in the break room and took a sip of coffee, wincing as it singed his tongue.

"Hey. Sid's about ready to post the body, D'you get anything from Adam?"

"Nothing. Knife was clean. Said he'd double check though, just to be sure." He nodded, taking in her weary posture, and frustrated expression with a kind smile.

"Relax, we'll get him." He closed the distance between them, holding out the mug of steaming black coffee to her. "You need sleep."

"I could say the same about you. Thanks." She took a long sip from his mug, handing it back to him as the hot, bitter liquid washed through her mouth, warming her. They'd been working this case for three days straight, only to end up with their primary suspect in rigor on Sid's table. And them back to square one.

She watched as he leaned against the doorjamb, biting his lip, mulling over the aspects of their case. He shifted his weight, coming to stand against the doorjamb, and she arched an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to speak. He opened his mouth, but closed it again, and glanced down the hallway quickly before turning his attention back to her, suddenly appearing nervous.

"What? What's on your mind?" She saw his gaze flicker to her lip, and back to hers quickly, a sly Staten Island smirk curving on his lip. Before she could protest, he leaned in, catching her lips with his own.

His kiss was bitter on her tongue, laced with remnants of dark coffee with no cream and no sugar. Raw, but that was Danny, his heart on his sleeve, the smolder of love in his eye each and every time he looked at her. She'd never get anything but him, unadulterated. No bullshit, no fronts, no games. Just Danny.

He was all she ever wanted.

After only a moment she reacted, returning his display of affection, and encouraging him gently, relaxing into him and letting him back her up against the doorframe. He shifted against her, pressing the length of his body against hers in a friendly manner, placing his free hand along her hip, and tilting his head, pressing a harder into her, running his tongue along her lips, parting them and deepening their kiss, teetering the line that ran between affectionate and passionate; settling for loving.

He tasted the trace of his coffee on her, and mint and chapstick, instantly falling into an addiction, kissing her harder and tasting the wind.

Instinctively, her hands had gone to his chest, intent on pushing him away, but as her fingers curled around the soft material of his oxford shirt she pulled him forward, feeling his heartbeat under her touch. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder as he took her bottom lip between both of his, sucking gently, causing her to groan softly against him. His kiss stayed gentle, like he was afraid of crossing the line. She would have laughed had he not stolen her will to think. That line had been crossed the moment he had held her in his arms as the dust began to settle.

Maybe there hadn't ever been a line at all.

He pulled away, pressing an affectionate kiss to her cheek lightly, giving her a devoted, sincere smile as he put a few inches between them, and then a few more, turning and making his way down the hall, heading towards the elevator.

"What was that for, Detective?" She called after him, leaning delicately against the doorway. He turned around, flashing her a Staten Island grin, and gestured to the top of the doorframe.

"Tradition."

Looking up, she saw the smallest sprig of mistletoe tacked to the glass above the door.

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A/N: from a suggestion made by my roommate…course, it was a lot dirtier the way she had it. Lol. Starting a First Kiss Series in New York, I think. Lemme know if you got suggestions for scenarios… I'm open to ideas. I love first kiss stories. And of course, the fluff-factor is an addiction.