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A/N: Hey. This is my first CSI: New York fic. I hope I do a good job and I hope I’m not fucking myself over choosing such an unconventional pairing for this one. But, you know me, always trying to write more of a pairing that doesn’t have that many stories, just on the off chance that it might be someone’s favorite pairing. I was seriously debating whether I should make this a Smacked fic, but I decided on MeLty. Smacked doesn’t suit the plot line. But I only just came to that decision.
Disclaimer: I don’t own CSI: New York.
Danny Messer came drifting into the room, looking like the living dead. “Uhg…” he groaned, sitting himself down at the break room table.
“Wow, Danny, you don’t look to good,” Lindsay said, brows furrowing in concern.
“Gee, thanks, Montana,” Danny said.
Lindsay smiled. “Welcome.”
Danny snorted.
“You got that flu that’s been going around?” Stella asked him.
“Dunno,” Danny said. “I woke up this morning and felt like crap. Now I feel like shit.”
“Aren’t they the same thing?” Lindsay asked.
“One’s a worse swear word,” Danny’s logic told him to say.
“Riiight…” Lindsay muttered, looking back down at her magazine.
The flu that Stella had predicted Danny had had already claimed several victims around the lab, including CSI: Hawkes and detectives Mac Taylor and Don Flack.
Lindsay giggled at Danny. “You and Flack been making out in the broom closets again?”
Stella laughed while Danny gave her a disgusted look. “You’re sick, Montana.”
Lindsay laughed. “Yup.”
Mac Taylor entered, bags under his eyes. He was still getting over his flu, as it was a long-lasting one. “Hello, everyone.”
“Hi,” Lindsay chirped. Mac smiled at her.
“Ms. Bonasera,” Mac said, handing her an assignment slip. “You’ve got a B&E.”
“Yay,” Stella murmured.
“Danny,” Mac said, taking in the man’s appearance. “You don’t look too good.”
Danny nodded. “I just came in to tell you that I’m not gonna be in the rest of the week, probably…”
Mac nodded. “I’ll schedule your time off. You take care of yourself.”
Danny nodded, getting up and walking out.
“Lindsay,” Mac said, turning his attention to her. “We have a DB. Possible link to previous cases.”
“Okay,” Lindsay said, getting up and stretching, displaying her mid-section for a split-second. “Let’s roll…”
Mac chuckled at her. “Yeah, Lindsay.”
She smiled, walking past him and into the bustling, early-morning halls of CSI.
“Sheldon is going to meet us there,” Mac told her as they walked into the parking lot. Lindsay nodded. “You going to take your car?”
Lindsay shook her head. “We’re going to the same place, so I’ll just ride with you.”
Mac nodded, beginning to drift towards his car, Lindsay following close behind. The chilly November air seemed to cool her to the core, but she didn’t really mind. That was New York for you and she had suffered worse in Montana. She had once proclaimed to Mac, “This is paradise compared to the Canadian whether systems that used to drift down from Saskatchewan.”
Mac could relate. Growing up in Chicago, he could remember several winters where the Great Lakes could keep a snow storm alive and kicking for days. You’d go to bed one night, wake up with two feet of snow surrounding your house the next. So, neither of the criminalists really minded the frigid whether.
Lindsay was glad, however, for the warmth that Mac’s car brought once it had warmed up a bit. She sat back and got comfortable as Mac pulled out of the parking lot and onto the slushy street. Only November and New York had already had its taste of that famous New England whether. Lindsay stared out the window most of the way to the scene. But, looked back to smile at Mac once or twice when she felt his gaze on her.
“How’s your cold coming along?” Lindsay asked him when he coughed for about the fourth time.
“It’s getting better,” Mac said to her. “I’m still coughing up my lungs like there’s no tomorrow…”
Lindsay smiled. “Well, at least you didn’t go around moaning, “I’m gonna die” like Flack did.”
“Flack can be a little…” Mac started.
“Annoying? Mello-dramatic? A pre-Madonna, tell me when to stop…”
“All of the above, actually,” Mac told her, smiling.
All his smiling today didn’t quite slip under Lindsay’s radar. When she had first come to New York (which was almost three months ago, now) it took something very big to get him to smile. Now she would turn around and find him smiling brightly at her more times than not.
“You’re smiling more,” Lindsay informed him out of the blue. Mac stared at her quizzically. He had never realized that he didn’t smile that much. “I like it.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Mac said, still slightly confused at her sudden proclamation.
They got to the scene, the rest of the fifteen-minute drive having been waited out in a comfortable silence. Lindsay jumped out of the car and made her way over to Don Flack.
“Hey, Flack,” Lindsay greeted. “Can you tell us what we’ve got here?”
“Woman in a bush,” Flack told her. “Coroner pronounced about half an hour ago.”
“TOD?” Lindsay asked.
“About five o’clock this morning,” Flack replied.
Lindsay nodded, making her way over to the portion of park that was marked off by yellow crime scene tape. Lindsay wondered idly if the department had some sort of magical fairy that poofed the tape into existence when they where running low, as they never seemed to run out. But, her mind’s wandering into la-la land was cut short by Sheldon Hawkes walking up to her from the other side of the tape.
“Hey,” he said, lifting up the tape for her to duck under. “I’m guessing you already got the down-low from Flack?”
Lindsay nodded, walking over to the body of a young, honey-haired, brown-eyed, Caucasian female.
“I almost panicked when I saw her,” Sheldon told her.
“Yeah?” Lindsay asked. “Why?”
“Lindsay,” Hawkes said, scrutinizing her. “Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?”
“Yeah…” Lindsay said, still not getting what he was trying to imply.
“Lindsay, she could be your twin,” Hawkes said.
Lindsay rolled her eyes. “No, she couldn’t. there’s a lot of differences. Like…”
But, as Lindsay took a better look at the body, she found not many, except for a slight difference in facial and body structure, the victim was her look-alike.
“This just gives the duple-ganger theory a whole new level of weird…” Lindsay mumbled.
Mac was ducking under the tape, and, had she not been right next to him, probably would have thought it was Lindsay. “The resemblance, it’s…just…uncanny…”
“Isn’t it, though?” Hawkes asked as he bent down to observe the young woman.
Lindsay knelt down. “Blunt force trauma…” she mumbled.
Hawkes nodded. “But I doubt that’s what killed her…there’s pre-mortem bruising and, look, a yellow tint to the edge. I’d say those bruises are about three days old, in the least.
“Look at this,” Mac said, pointing to her neck. “Four-plus-one pattern. I’ll place my money on strangulation.”
Lindsay nodded, looking to Hawkes. “The report said ‘possible relation to past crimes’ what’s that supposed to mean?”
“There may be a relation between this case and the disappearance of a young woman from a crime scene.”
“Where and who?” Lindsay asked.
“A Cara-Lynn Davis,” Hawkes replied. “From CSI: Shout-Eastern Michigan.”
Lindsay furrowed her brow. “South-eastern Michigan?” she asked. “That’s a long way to go just to dump a body.”
Hawkes shrugged, while Mac began talking. “Every criminal has his or her comfort zone. An aria where they rob, murder, rap, do their various crimes.” He told her. “Some comfort zones are very small – I’ve even seen one man who only raped woman within his own family – some comfort zones are very large. In our UN-SUB’s case, his comfort zone could be the whole of the north-eastern US.”
Lindsay nodded, thinking hard. “I’m gonna take a walk over that hill,” Lindsay told him. “If memory serves, there’s a picnic aria beyond it, so I’ll see what I can find in the trash cans and what not.”
Mac nodded, turning back to the victim, letting Lindsay go on her merry way through the small section of Central Park. She soon got to the Picnic aria, which went from the foot of one hill, all the way up another and half way down. Trash cans where about every fifteen feet. Lindsay sighed, she had a lot of garbage digging in her immediate future.
But, fate had other plans for her.
She was suddenly grabbed roughly from behind. She could tell it was a male, and not one she knew, either. She opened her mouth to scream, but her mouth was quickly covered by his hand.
“Listen here, little missy,” he sneered into her ear. “I’ve got a knife, and I have no hesitation to send it through your neck, got it?”
Lindsay nodded fervently, silently praying. Oh, God…Mac! Hawkes! Flack! Someone!
She struggled again as she was dragged towards heavy brush and trees.
“Shut up, you little bitch,” he hissed as he dragged her further away from the safety that was the crime scene.
She bit down hard on his hand, he screamed bloody murder and she took this advantage to run, screaming for her life back up the hill. But, she skidded on a patch of ice and came in hard contact with a tree trunk. In the process of picking herself up, she hadn’t noticed her attacker advancing on her again.
But, her screams had done it. Mac, her savoir, came barreling through the trees, Sheldon not far behind.
“Lindsay!” they both cried, Mac running to her side while Hawkes struggled to catch up with the fast-fleeing suspect.
“You okay?” Mac asked, his eyes combing over her body to find any wounds. He found nothing fatal, but there where bruises developing on her arm, face and forehead. Also, the ice had torn right through her jeans upon impact with the rough surface, leaving behind a horrible scrape.
Lindsay shivered; her coat had been lost during the struggle. “I-I’m-m f-fine…” she said, her voice shaking from the cold.
Mac swung off his coat and settled it over her shoulders, revealing his light-blue work shirt.
Lindsay breathed heavily, shuddering each time she did so. She was very cold, sitting on this ice, but she was as sure about that as about the fact that she couldn’t get up. “My ankle,” she told Mac. “Think I OW! Twisted it…”
She had tried to move her ankle, sending a jolt of pain up her leg. “Really cold.” She added.
Flack came around the corner. “Hey, what’s going on?”
“Dunno,” Mac said. “What happened, Lindsay?”
“Some guy,” Lindsay said. “Didn’t even see his face. Got me from behind…shoulda known…”
“Lindsay,” Mac said. “No-one expects that.”
“I know,” Lindsay sighed.
“Couldn’t get him,” Sheldon said, returning dejectedly from the direction from whence he had shot off. “Runs to fast, the SOB…”
Lindsay blinked. Had Sheldon, Sheldon Hawkes just sworn?
“Then, he jumped a fence…guy can fly…” Hawkes brooded.
Lindsay smiled. Sheldon came over and, being the only doctor among the four, bent down to look at her leg.
“Hmm…” he said, examining her ankle.
“Would you mind not doing that?” Lindsay asked him. “I feel like a victim on a slab…”
Sheldon laughed softly at her. “Yup, Linds, you’ve definitely sprained that. You’re gonna have to stay of it for the next few days, and take Tylenol.”
Lindsay nodded. “You know, as much as I’d like to get frost bite on my butt, I think I’d like some help up, please?”
Mac stepped forward, grabbing her out stretched hand and pulling her up. Lindsay smiled her thanks, starting to walk, but, of course, she fell right back flat on her face. Or, would have, had it not been for Mac catching her half-way through her fall, his arms strong and secure.
“Whoa, Lindsay,” he said, up-righting her again. “You’re not gonna be able to walk.”
“Then, what do you propose I do-oooo!” Lindsay shrieked as she was lifted up into Mac’s arms. “Ga! What’re you doing, Mac Taylor?!”
“I’ve got you, Lindsay,” Mac told her. “Don’t panic.”
“Right,” Lindsay said, nervously giggling. She wrapped her arms around Mac’s neck, for a secure feeling, but also so that if Mac did drop her, she would bring him down with her. She took a deep breath, really praying that he didn’t drop her. But, something inside of her told her to trust him, even if his arms where the only thing between her and a horribly hard impact with the ground. Then again, that also gave a secure feeling…she didn’t know what to think, anymore…
“I’m taking Lindsay back to the lab,” Mac told Hawkes. “There shouldn’t be that much left to do.”
“Yeah,” Hawkes said. “I’ll just wait for the body to be taken away, and look, there’s Sid now…”
As Hawkes walked over to join the coroner, Mac continued carrying Lindsay to his car. She smiled at him and he smiled back, saying, “See? I told you I wouldn’t drop you.”
Lindsay giggled. “I know…I’m paranoid…”
“And with good reason,” Mac replied. “Us CSI’s need to be cautious. What just happened to you is a perfect example.”
Lindsay nodded.
They came to Mac’s car and Lindsay was gently sat down, still with one arm around Mac’s neck, so that he could open his car. He opened the passenger’s side door for her and she slid into the seat, sitting back and closing her door. Mac came around and hopped in the driver’s side and they began the drive back to the lab.
I’d love it if you’d leave a review, just to let me know that I didn’t completely disgrace CSI: New York.
Love y’all!
-Lynn