boys looking for love/ a young man needs violence/ licking guitars/ a little desperate/ girls looking for love/ the women dressed like violets/ whipping cigars/ a little desperate
TV Rock, The Others

The blond was young, drunk, and trying to hit on him. "So like, you'd have to be really strong to be a cop, right?" She sent him a coy smile, her lips painted a bright red.

He hated to admit it, but a year- hell even six months ago he might have been flattered. Might have gotten her number, called her up some night and taken her home. But that was then, and this was now. And his girlfriend was not ten feet behind him, processing a crime scene in a mini skirt and six inch heels.

"So you didn't see anything?' he asked her again.

"I was just dancing with my friend when everyone started screaming," she said. "So I freaked you know? I was so glad when you pulled out your badge and took over. That was like, really cool."

Danny sighed, trying not to roll his eyes. "Okay Miss Thomas," he told her. "I just need your address and number, in case we need to contact you later."

"Sure," she smiled at him, and rattled off an address and number. "Call me anytime. For you know, whatever."

He smiled tightly. "Thanks for your help."

"No problem," she smirked at him again and sauntered back to her group of giggling friends, college students on a girls night out. He could feel the stares they were sending him on the back of his head. It freaked him out.

"So you going to call her?"

He turned to find Lindsay behind him, carrying a small bloody knife in an evidence bag. She was grinning. "Don't even joke about it Montana."

"Why not? I mean she seems nice."

He really did roll his eyes this time, hearing the sarcasm in her voice. "Yeah but my girlfriend would kick my ass."

"Damn right she would," Lindsay grinned. "Found the murder weapon over near the bar, stuffed in a bin."

He grinned at her. "Good work Montana."

God she looked gorgeous standing there holding the bloody weapon triumphantly, a police issue jacket courtesy of Officer Rebecca Rodriguez covering the skimpy gold top and most of the black mini skirt. Like something out of one of his more explicit dreams.

He had nearly had a hear attack when she had opened her door earlier that night. Sure, New York had been experiencing an early season heatwave- hell, he himself had stripped down to a wifebeater and jeans. But her top was backless, and ended two inches above her bellybutton. And the skirt rested low on her hipbones- and high on her thighs.

If her goal had been to ensure she was the only woman he looked at she had certainly succeed. As they had moved on the crowded dance floor, their bodies pressed together, he had been unable to keep his hands off all of that tempting bare skin she was flaunting at her mid section.

And then there had been a scream, just audible over the loud dance music that was pumping through the speakers. And his pleasant evening out with his girlfriend had been abruptly cut short.

"How are you going with the interviews?" she asked now.

"Almost done," he replied, no small amount of relief evident in his voice.

"Good," she said with a smirk. "Then you can buy me breakfast on the way to the lab."

"Anythin' for you, Montana."

--

By mid morning Danny's eyes were tired and gritty. He had been staring at the screen where the security footage from the club was playing in fast forward for the last two hours, and was still none the wiser as to who had stabbed the young victim. The dance floor had been packed and from the limited camera angles it was impossible to see who had done the deed.

He was so focused on the video that he didn't sense her presence until she was standing right beside him. She carefully placed a steaming cup of coffee on the desk in front of him as he looked up at her with a smile.

"Thank you, Montana," he said on a sigh, picking up the coffee and taking a sip. But he suspected it was her presence, more than the coffee, that had enlivened his mood.

"You looked like you needed it," she said, sliding into the seat beside him. "This the video from the club?"

"Yeah, I've been looking for the perp. But it's so packed I can't see a thing."

He glanced over at her when she didn't reply and saw the blood had drained from her face. "Hey, Montana, you okay?"

After a moment, she turned to look at him. "Who's seen this?"

Danny frowned. "Just me," he said with an easy shrug to cover the lie.

It took her a moment to continue. "That's... us." She pointed up at the corner of the screen where two figures were visible, closely entwined. Dancing together, the way lovers do.

He coughed. "Yeah, that's us." He had walked past AV earlier and spotted Adam inside, eyes wide. He had flushed when Danny walked in and asked what was up. It had been easy to get him to agree to never tell anyone what he had seen- and to let the CSI take over.

"Don't worry Montana, it's good." Bad enough that Mac had stopped by the scene earlier. He had seen the bright red flush across her face when their boss had walked in. He knew the knowledge that Adam had seen the tape would only embarrass her further.

She relaxed a little, sitting back in the chair. "So did you find anything?"

"Not really. But there was something interesting earlier in the night." Pulling the keyboard to him, he pulled up the section of the tape he had saved. He pressed play and let Lindsay watch it as well.

"Is that the girl who was hitting on you?" she asked, squinting at the screen in the darkened lab.

"Yeah, Ashlee Thomas. Looks like she and the vic got into a pretty serious discussion."

"Then I think we better get her prints," Lindsay replied. "I found a bloody fingerprint on the inside rim of the bin the knife was in. The blood is a type match to the vic, so it was probably left by the murderer. No hits in AFIS, though."

"Okay," he sighed. "I don't suppose you'll call her?"

She smirked. "Why? She scare you Messer? She seemed pretty friendly."

"Yeah, not exactly the kind of friendly I'm lookin' for," he replied. He looked over at where she was grinning at him. "But it didn't seem to bother you."

"What? That she was hitting on you?" she asked. "Doesn't matter if you don't respond."

"You mean that?"

"Yeah," she replied. "I mean, sure it makes me a little jealous, the way it makes me jealous when you flirt with other women. But..." she said as he started to protest. Her smile softened. "I trust you Danny."

He looked at her for a long moment. "Okay," he said finally. "But you gotta do the interview Montana."

She laughed at him.

--

As it turned out, Ashlee Thomas was neither as drunk, nor as interested in Danny, as she had made out. Once they had matched her prints to the one found at the scene and confronted her with the evidence, the whole story had come poring out.

"Bitch was disrespecting me," she spat. All trace of the bubbly college student was gone. Instead they had found a snarling woman who had yelled at her lawyer father to shut up and confessed to the crime. "She got what she deserved."

Danny felt proud of his girlfriend as she kept calm in the face of the girl's spite. "And now you are going to get exactly what you deserve, Ashlee," she said evenly. She signaled to the uniformed officer standing by the door to get the young woman to her feet. "You're going to prison."

The young woman shrugged, apathy on her face. "Whatever." She was lead out by the officer, her father following hopelessly behind.

It was one of those freak cases- done and dusted in barely twelve hours. All Danny had to do was drop the paperwork off and then he and Lindsay could go home to sleep.

"We arrested Ashlee Thomas," he told Mac as they stood together in his office just after noon.

"Thanks Danny." Mac flipped open the folder Danny gave him, glanced at it briefly. "You did a good job on this one."

Danny shrugged. "It was one of the easy ones, you know."

Mac looked up from the file, a serious look in his eyes and Danny shifted his stance. "'Sides," he said, uncomfortable. "It was Lindsay who found the print and did the interview."

"I know," Mac replied. "But you've been doing well lately Danny. I admit, I've been impressed with your dedication."

Danny felt himself flush a little, unused to the praise. "Thanks," he muttered.

"Which is why," Mac said, placing the folder on his desk and turning back to face the younger man, "you're back on the promotion grid."

Danny's mouth dropped open. "You serious Mac?"

"Yes," the older man replied, the hint of a smirk on his lips. "Congratulations."

For a moment he was rendered speechless. It didn't last long. "Thanks Mac, really- thanks."

This time, Mac really did smile. "Go home, get some sleep, Danny. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sure," he replied, nodding enthusiastically. "See ya Mac."

He couldn't wait to tell Lindsay. He grabbed his bag from the locker room and headed down to the lobby where they had arranged to meet. It felt good to have someone to tell. To celebrate with when things went his way. He had never expected it, but was glad to have found it in her.

After what seemed like forever in the elevator, the silver doors opened. He spotted her right away, leaning against the opposite wall, her bag in hand, obviously waiting for him. She looked up at him as he stepped out of the elevator, the words on the tip of his tongue.

Only the promotion news wasn't that important. Not when there was something bigger that was suddenly there in his head, in his heart. Something that was so powerful it scared him.

Not when he suddenly knew that he loved her with everything he had.

He was caught off guard, and paused only two steps across the lobby.

She walked over to him. There were circles under her eyes, and her hair was mused, and she was beautiful. "Everything okay?" she asked with a smile.

"Yeah." He smiled back. "It's all good Montana."

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I apologize for the delay on this one (I had to rewrite it completely twice). I can't believe I am writing about last June! I am desperately trying to catch up to real time so expect more soon. In fact, expect more within a couple of days.

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