A.N.: Hello to all of you. This will be my second solo trek into the universe of CSI: NY and my first Danny-centric story (Grins happily). So anyway, just so you know, I am a first timer, so be gentle. No flames, though any CONSTRUCTIVE Criticism will not go unappreciated. I really want you guys to enjoy this story. So yeah, here goes...

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in CSI: NY...though, if anyone ever figures out a way to get Danny and Flack tied down in their basement, let me know! (grins evily).

Danny Messer walked down the steps of the precinct and turned left to head home. His emotions bounced between excitement, relief, revulsion, and even a little sadness as he walked. The case he and Sheldon had been working on had been really difficult. It had started as a simple rape case, but when the victim had turned up at the lab, it had become something a little more.

Danny shoved the memory of the nearly histerical young woman demanding that evidence be found to catch her rapist while she clung to him nearly passing out. That had not been a pleasant day. However, keeping true to his word, Danny had found the evidence to nail the bastard and had enjoyed as Don put the cuffs on him right in the interrogation room.Of course, the guy kept on protesting his innocence despite the evidence stacked against.

Shivering slightly, Danny pulled his coat closer around. The weather was changing fast and pretty soon he'd have to get up even early then he did already just to get to work. A forceful wind hit him in the back as he passed a bar near the precinct. The one he and Flack had often stopped at after a difficult case. For a moment, he was tempted to duck inside just to get away from the cold and memories. Deciding not to, however, he continued on his way.

Crossing the street, he turned at the corner and continued down Twelth Street. His breath began to fog as it became colder. Danny glanced around, allowing a feeling of unease creep in. The street was still pretty crowded for the night, but most people were beginning to duck into buildings or empty taxis as they passed by. Danny glanced behind him. No one was there.

Looking back to where he was going, he had about ten seconds to close his eyes before his face met ice cold concrete.

"Oof," the passage of air escaped as he fell. Groaning, he looked up and to his side to see a young woman flat on her butt with her legs pinned underneath him.

"What the hell do you think your doing?" exclaimed Danny, annoyed and soar.

The woman looked at him blankly as he stood up. She didn't reply.

"Hey, you, on the ground, what do ya think your doing sitting there?" said Danny, glaring down at her. He could tell by the way she was dressed, a patch-work of hoodies, sweats, gloves, and two oversized shoes, that she was more then likely homeless.

The woman looked up at him then back at her feet.

"Timbers fall," she muttered, her eyes moving back and forth as though surveying a gruesome scene, "Trees rise. Everything's like it was before. But it can't be...it can't."

Her eyes returned to Danny's, filled with tears now. Danny looked down on her inside.

"Come on," he said, offering his hand, "Let me help you up."

The woman allowed Danny to grasp her arms, but only till she rose half-way. Then, with suprising force, she pushed him away, catching herself on a banister as she fell. Casting a fearful look at him, she turned and fled down the street, leaving Danny to just stare at her retreating back.

"You're welcome!" the New Yorker yelled out at her, before mumbling "Damn crazy."

His good deeds for the day just about used up, Danny continued on his way. He was almost to his apartment when he felt a large body collide into his. Forcefully, said body threw Danny into an awaiting alley and then against the wall.

"Don't move," he said, and Danny felt the unmistakable touch of a cold barrel next to his head. He could feel a broad hand search along his pockets.

"Hey, watch it!" Danny called as the hand moved farther down.

"Shut up!" rasped the gun-holder. Grabbing Danny's shoulder, he whirled him around against the wall.

The attacker was young, no older then twenty-five at the most, with a nine-milimeter. A grey hood covered his hair, though by his goatee showed him to be blond. His eyes were deep green, and very angry.

"Give me your money," he ordered, shoving the gun into Danny's face.

"Okay, okay, easy," said Danny, his tone calm and cool, "I'm pulling out my wallet, alright?"

Slowly, he pulled his hand from his pocket. The robber snatched it out of his hand, quickly pulling the cash out of it.

"Now take your coat off," he demanded.

"Excuse me?" Danny shot him a strange look.

"I said, take your coat off!"

"Alright, alright..." Danny obeyed, half torn between throwing it in the guy's face or handing it over quietly.

"Hand it over."

Quietly it was, then. Danny handed over the coat, shivering from the shock of the cold.

"You know, there's other ways of getting..." he started.

"Did I not tell you to shut up!" screamed the man, "Turn around!"

Again, Danny found himself face to face with the wall.

"Here's something to remember me by," breathed the man from right behind him.

Before Danny could make the brilliant comeback he had all set, a severe pain exploded along his head. Light exploded in his vision as he staggered against the wall and fell. As darkness began to flood his line of sight, he could make out his attacker hurrying down the alley. The last thing he saw was a pair of oversized shoes.