Disclaimer: I don't own CSI:NY
Series: Kindred Spirits (obviously).
Spoilers: Pretty much all of Season 2, plus some parts of Season 3 (specifically Not What It Looks Like, Love Run Cold, The Lying Game and Sleight Out Of Hand).

Chapter One

The morning winter sun peeped through the window of the New York City apartment, illuminating the tidy living room, landing first on the framed photograph that hung on the wall.

The young family welcomed the sun with smiles, their faces frozen in time, the woman tenderly cradling her week-old baby, her husband standing behind her, a hand on her shoulder, beaming at his wife and daughter.

The light crept further still, lighting the newspaper that lay on the coffee table, bearing the headline: NYPD NABS DRIVE-BY GANG.

Above the breakfast bar, a noticeboard was covered in reminders, the most recent reading 'physical therapist – 3pm' and 'need milk'. Beneath it, a bright pink post-it note bore a phone number for Samantha Flack.

Outside, the sounds of the city rumbled on, traffic, horns and indistinguishable shouts floated up through the open window, providing a backdrop to the soft lullaby that filled the apartment.

In the nursery, Lindsay Monroe-Messer laid the now three-month-old Lucy in her crib, gently kissing her forehead as she did. "Sweet dreams, baby-girl."

Lucy didn't stir, rolling over in her sleep with a soft sigh.

For a few minutes, Lindsay watched her daughter sleep, smiling softly. It was amazing how much one year had changed her life.

One year ago, she was reviewing her life, the energy she was investing in a relationship that was shaky at best.

And then one night, triggered by one of the most gruesome crime scenes she had experienced, everything had changed.

Their focus had been on comforting one another and not on the potential consequences of their actions.

When Lindsay had realised she was pregnant six weeks later, she had been afraid that it would break them. And now, here they were, a year on, happily married, with a beautiful and healthy baby girl.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud noise outside the apartment; someone was hammering on the front door.

The sound was hurried, desperate, but Lindsay couldn't help being cautious, not with Lucy in the apartment and her husband at work.

Closing the nursery door behind her, Lindsay moved to the kitchen table, where her holster hung over the back of the chair, her gun still inside.

It was very rare for her to leave her gun out like that, but her day off had come unexpectedly that morning, and she'd been almost out the door, leaving Lucy with an elderly neighbour, when she'd gotten the call.

The knocking had quietened now and Lindsay peered out through the tiny peephole, seeing an empty corridor.

Whoever it is must be very short, or standing to one side.

Or hurt. Lindsay glanced down at the gun in her hand and silently cursed her paranoia – clearly someone needed help.

But then she heard a soft, unfamiliar voice on the other side of the door.

"Danny …"

The voice was low and tremulous, as thought its owner was crying. But the thing that caught Lindsay's attention was that it was female.

Clearly, they were looking for her husband, but Danny didn't have any female relatives, aside from his mother and a few aunts by marriage, but she'd met them. No sisters, no cousins.

Messers only make boys – he'd told her that while she was pregnant with Lucy.

And she knew all of his female friends, so she'd recognise their voices.

Please, God, tell me this isn't an ex. I don't have the energy to deal with this.

Slowly – almost reluctantly – Lindsay opened the door to see a woman slumped on the ground beside the door. She looked a couple of years older than Lindsay, but her dark hair hung over her face like a curtain, hiding her features.

Transferring her gun to her left hand, Lindsay crouched down and gently touched the woman's shoulder, causing her to look up.

When the woman's face came into view, Lindsay bit back a gasp, realising that, while they'd never met, she did know her.

Aiden. Aiden Burn.

She knew very little about the detective she had replaced, only that she and Danny had been best friends ("she was my sister," he had explained, when insisting they give Lucy Aiden as her middle name). In fact, the only time her curiosity had come close to being sated was the murder charge they finally locked DJ Pratt up for: the team had spent the case thinking they were solving Aiden's murder, going by the digital reconstruction of the skull and the clues that had been left behind. Soon after Pratt's arrest, Sid had finally gotten around to checking Aiden's dental records and the truth had been realised; the victim, although bearing a stunning resemblance to the ex-CSI, was a complete stranger and Aiden had seemingly vanished into thin air.

Now, here she was, back in New York, outside Lindsay's front door.

"Sorry." Aiden hurriedly wiped her eyes. "I was looking for someone … I went to his old apartment and … one of his neighbours mentioned this address …"

"Danny's at work." Lindsay told her, suddenly feeling very nervous. "My name's Lindsay. Lindsay Messer."

Although her eyes were still wet with tears, Aiden's face broke into a smile and she accepted the other woman's help to stand, before embracing her tightly. "You mean he finally stepped up?"

"Well, it was a little more complicated than that." Lindsay admitted. "Do you wanna come in? Danny's case will take a while, but you're welcome to wait for him."

"That'd be great, thanks." Aiden followed Lindsay into the apartment, glancing down at her gun curiously.

Lindsay followed her gaze and blushed. "You can't be too careful." She put her weapon away – in the gun-safe this time – and gestured to the kitchen table. "Do you want some coffee? You sounded upset outside."

"I'd love some." Aiden sighed. "And I'm not upset; I'm just … I'm frustrated. You know why I left?"

Lindsay frowned. "Not really. I mean, I know the Pratt case really got to you, but I never asked … it didn't matter to me and it wasn't really any of my business."

"Well, I didn't drop the Pratt case." Aiden admitted. "I know I should have done, but I couldn't! Just as I was getting close, Dad turned up, told me I was working myself into the ground and basically kidnapped me and took me to Florida for a vacation."

"He forced you to go to Miami for a bit of fun?" Lindsay gasped. "The nerve of him!"

Aiden chuckled. "Alright, fair enough. I suppose complaining about that is a bit silly. But when I got back, Pratt had vanished and the company he works for had moved to Detroit, so …"

"So you followed them." Lindsay finished. "Well, that explains a lot."

"It does?" Aiden asked. "How?"

Lindsay glanced over her shoulder, keeping one eye on the coffee machine. "Aiden, DJ Pratt didn't vanish. We arrested him. You vanished. Gave poor Danny a heart attack."

"I texted him." Aiden protested.

"He changed his number." Lindsay said, rolling her eyes. "And forgot to tell you. The point is, is …" She sighed, pulling a face. "I never realised how weird that story is."

"You never do until you have to tell it." Aiden agreed. "Why don't you start from the beginning? Then you can throw in how you and Messer hooked up while you're at it."

Lindsay handed her a mug of coffee and sat down across from her, observing her silently for a few minutes. "Okay. Well, first of all, I guess you should know that I'm the detective Mac brought in to replace you."

"Okay." Aiden waited for a second, and then her face cleared. "Wait. Were you expecting me to resent you for that?"

"No." Lindsay smiled slightly. "I've heard enough about you to know that you wouldn't. I … I resented you for it to start with though." She fell into a thoughtful silence, wondering how best to explain her reasoning.

Aiden didn't push for her to continue, letting her work things through.

Finally, Lindsay let out a shaky breath. "I grew up in Bozeman, Montana. It's quite a big town, but it's tiny, compared to New York. When I heard that Mac had requested me, personally, I knew I couldn't pass it up, but … the idea of moving all this way away from my family … it scared me."

"I bet." Aiden agreed sympathetically. "It scared me and I was only moving from Brooklyn."

"Now, I know I shouldn't listen to the lab techs …" Lindsay began.

Aiden snorted. "They're the cheerleaders of the CSI lab, Lindsay; anything that comes out of their mouths outside of evidence analysis is pure crap. But go on."

"After every case I worked, I'd hear them in the locker room. 'Aiden wouldn't have done it that way'." Lindsay sighed. "It didn't matter whether I solved the case or how quickly – and I know it's stupid, but it got to me. And Danny …"

"Oh, I thought he'd come into it sooner or later." Aiden smirked. "Daniel Messer can act just like a spoilt child sometimes; what did he do to you?"

Lindsay laughed. "Well, it started my first day on the job. As soon as I arrived in New York, I was summoned to the zoo in Central Park; a dead body had been dumped in the tigers' enclosure and the scene had been somewhat contaminated. When I got there, Mac told me to hold the tiger's jaws so he could take an impression. Before I even had my gloves on, Danny was at my side.

"Just take a deep breath," he told me, "and don't let him know you're afraid, because he can sense when you're nervous." "The tiger's tranquilised," I said, "I think I can handle it." He said, "I was talking about Mac. And make sure you call him sir.""

Aiden winced. "Oh, that's low! Mac hates being called that! I think it's a Marine thing."

"Yeah, I figured that out." Lindsay sighed. "Don't get me wrong; everyone was great and really supportive, but … I always felt like the 'country girl'. Danny constantly calling me 'Montana' didn't help." She chuckled. "He still calls me that. It's more like a pet-name now though. To be honest, I just got tired of telling him to stop."

Aiden laughed. "I know that feeling."

Lindsay grinned and let herself ramble on for a while about some of the weird cases they'd had, old memories flitting in and out of her mind's eye …

… finding Danny with Adam and Hawkes, watching Tara Stanfield's sex-tape ("Footage of your 30th birthday, Messer?") …

… demonstrating how a doll-doctor had been holding one of his 'patients' too tightly for a coincidence and finishing up just holding hands in the middle of the street, until both realised what they were doing …

… being called to a crime scene in the middle of her first date in New York and feeling really irritated, until Danny caught sight of her formal attire and stood up to greet her ("Well hello, Miss Monroe. You clean up nice.") …

…meeting him at Cozy's and telling him something about Mac that he didn't know ("Maybe you don't know him as well as you thought") …

… making him lose a bet by eating deep-fried spiders, but winning a dinner with him in the process, however unconventional the meal had been …

… bribing him to help her with a reconstruction and ending up in his arms as he carried her across a roof-top garden ("I'm not gonna give you anything if you don't get going. Make tracks, Cowboy.") …

… Danny teasing her about the necrophilia Americano bugs …

… having a perfectly normal conversation with him about the merits of phone sex (it was only afterwards that she realised how weird that was) …

… meeting him at the scene of Tyrell "Superman" Mann's murder and reciting what she knew about the vic and his surprise at her football knowledge ("it's dangerous," he'd said, "I might ask you to marry me.") …

But now her voice faltered, as she remembered what came next.

Aiden sighed, recognising her hesitation. "I'm guessing something big happened."

"Yeah, we got an old homicide." Lindsay confirmed. "Someone called in, telling us where we could find a body and then shot himself. We found the body alright and there was an old cigarette butt found in the grave … when I tested it, I found Danny's DNA."

"No." Aiden shook her head. "No, Danny wouldn't …"

"I know." Lindsay said heavily. "That's why I showed Danny the results first. He took them to Mac; told us all that he'd only ever run with Tanglewood once. He'd been heading to AC with his brother, apparently, and met up with some of the boys. When Danny realised there was a kid tied up in the trunk, he told them to let him go and Louie told him to get lost." She blinked rapidly, remembering how helpless she'd felt. "We were all outside the office and he looked at me … straight at me … ignored the others … and the look in his eyes … it was like he was begging me not to give up on him. And Danny Messer does not beg."

"No, he doesn't." Aiden frowned. "So how did he get out of this mess? What happened?"

"Louie happened." Lindsay answered. "He went after Sonny Sassone wearing a wire and got a taped confession. Long story short, Danny's name was cleared and Louie ended up in hospital, brain-dead. They … They pulled the plug three months later."

"Dammit." Aiden ran a hand through her hair in frustration. "I should have been here."

Lindsay reached across the table and took her hand. "Danny took it bad, but he doesn't blame you for that. I heard very little about you actually, until …"

"Until?" Aiden prompted.

Lindsay stared at the polished wood in front of her. "It started when we found a body in a burned-out car. It couldn't belong to the car's owner – he was male and Sid said the body was definitely female. And then … Hawkes started a digital reconstruction and paged us all 911 …"

Lindsay was the first person to reach the room set aside for the 3D reconstructions, and found Sheldon Hawkes and Stella Bonasera, both staring at a slowly rotating skull on the screen.

"What's going on?"

To her surprise, the greeting she received from the usually upbeat Hawkes was hollow, empty, and Stella let out a sob, covering her mouth with one hand in a futile attempt to hold it in.

"What's happened?" Lindsay repeated with more conviction, hurrying to Stella's side. "Stella?"

Almost immediately, she heard two voices echo her questions and glanced over her shoulder to see Mac Taylor enter the room with Danny.

Hawkes, who had clearly had time to recover from whatever had caught Stella's attention, leaned over to whisper in Lindsay's ear, "Watch Messer for me, someone's got to."

Lindsay swallowed hard and glanced at Stella, before taking a step back, keeping one eye on her regular crime scene partner.

Hawkes cleared his throat, catching her attention once again. "This is a scan of the victim's skull. This …" he pressed a button, giving the skull flesh and skin once more "… is a 3D reconstruction of what she would have looked like. This is the preliminary sketch I made earlier." The picture appeared on top of the skull, fitting so that it too was 3D. "And this …" a service photograph appeared transparent on top of the skull and sketch, leaving no doubt that it was the same person. "This is Detective Aiden Burn."

Mac let out a shaky breath and pulled Stella into his arms, letting her cry into his shirt. For a few seconds, the only sound was of her sobs. Even the hustle and bustle of the lab seemed to fade away as a blanket of silence settled upon them. Then …

BANG!

Lindsay jumped as Danny's fist hit the wall, almost cracking the plaster, before he sank to the ground, not even bothering to hide his tears. She hesitated for a second – she and Danny worked together a lot and had even hung out after work, but that was it; even when Stella had been in the hospital and she had broken down halfway through an interrogation, Danny had just squeezed her arm and told her they had to solve the case.

Maybe that was the way he worked.

But it wasn't her way. Tentatively, she crouched beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder, not sure if he would want her comfort – she was, after all, Aiden's replacement – but he leaned into her, prompting her to embrace him tightly, her eyes straying to the picture on the screen …

"It wasn't how I'd imagined you." Lindsay whispered into the silent kitchen.

"Well, no, I should think you'd imagined me alive." Aiden retorted, breaking the tension in the room.

Lindsay laughed. "No. That's not what I meant. I meant that … I hadn't been told an awful lot about you and … they made you sound like Superwoman. I don't know what I expected, I guess, just someone … less human. Am I making sense?"

Aiden was silent for a minute. "No. But I understand anyway."

Lindsay shook her head. "All we really focused on was how we'd get the son of a bitch that did this. You'd … I mean, the victim ... she'd been beaten to death. We thought it was the owner of the car at first, because he reported that he'd just seen his car being stolen three hours after we found it burned out."

Aiden snorted. "When will these people learn? If you're gonna lie, at least try to make it convincing!"

"I know, right?" Lindsay agreed. "Danny walked into the precinct just as we were taking him out of interrogation. Three officers had to hold him back; it was the full alpha male thing. "Is that him? Is that the scum-bag who killed Aiden? Oh come on, Mac; just give me five minutes. I'll get him to crack." I think he could have as well." She added as an afterthought.

"Knowing Danny …" Aiden trailed off, shaking her head. "It was Pratt, right? When did you realise?"

"When we realised you'd been following him." Lindsay answered quietly. "She did look stunningly like you, Aiden; we know who she is now. He was trying to kill you; he started stalking another victim assuming you'd be following him. Our vic definitely noticed, went to see if the girl was okay. She … she never stood a chance." She took a sip of coffee, trying to read Aiden's expression. "She left bite-marks on the armrest and on him. That was enough."

Aiden shook her head again and buried her face in her hands, silent sobs overtaking her body. Without hesitating, Lindsay moved her chair round next to Aiden and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a hug and letting her crying into her shoulder.

It took Aiden several minutes to compose herself, but it was less time than Lindsay had anticipated. She loosened her grip and handed the other woman a tissue, giving her time to dry her eyes.

"I can't believe it." Aiden muttered. "All that work to stop him raping again and he went and murdered someone."

"You wouldn't have stood a chance either." Lindsay pointed out gently.

"But there'd have been a reason for me …" Aiden began.

"Everything happens for a reason." Lindsay interrupted firmly. "Danny wouldn't have coped. As it was, I got a call at 3am the night in between from a bartender."

Aiden groaned. "I'm gonna have to have a word with him about that. Come on, we've got this far."

Lindsay smiled weakly. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Aiden nodded. "Yeah. Let's hear it."

"Okay." Lindsay let out a breath. "Well … there was a huge bomb threat. One actually went off with Mac and Don still in the building …"

Aiden gasped. "Were they okay?"

"Eventually." Lindsay answered darkly. "Mac got out with a bad injury here …" she gestured to her collarbone. "But Don nearly died. If it weren't for Mac, he may well have done. It was so bad they …"

She broke off abruptly, finishing the thought in her head. … hired a replacement.

If Aiden noticed, she didn't push for her to finish, for which Lindsay was grateful. She wasn't ready to talk about Jess.

Not yet.

"The only reason I wasn't inside was because I'd gone back to the car to get the rest of my kit." Lindsay shuddered, remembering the split-second of mind-numbing relief after the initial blast, before she sank back into terror.

"And let me guess," Aiden smirked, "Danny was the first person to notice you were injured in any way."

Lindsay blushed slightly. "It was just a small cut. But yeah. About a month later – actually, it was probably closer to two or three, because Don was back at work – well, that doesn't really matter. There was a murder at a jewellery store that seemed cut and dry until we found one of the girls dead and realised there was a diamond smuggling ring involved."

"It's never cut and dry." Aiden commented.

"Tell me about it." Lindsay sighed. "Anyway, we tracked down the guy behind the ring, only to find out that they'd kidnapped one of the other girls. The third had something like five minutes to get the diamonds back to him or they'd kill her. There wasn't time to get an undercover in, so I volunteered."

Aiden nodded understandingly. "I did the same thing, but I got found out. Stella said Danny looked like he was ready to ignore her orders and just run in."

Lindsay bit her lip. "Well, he went one better this time. He did ignore her orders and run in."

"Who are you?"

Lindsay tried to keep her voice steady. "Beth."

The man picked up a framed picture from a desk beside him and she felt her heart quicken. If that picture was of the three girls, he would know she wasn't who she said she was.

He slammed the picture down with such force that the glass shattered and lifted his gun so it was pointed at her face. "Try again. Who are you?"

Lindsay didn't answer.

"Who are you?" He demanded.

Without flinching, Lindsay dropped the bag in her hand and the flash-grenade went off. In the same second, she dove forward, knocking the hostage to the floor as smoke filled the room. The noise that came with it surprised her, even though she'd been prepared, making her ears ring and blocking out the sounds of the SWAT team moving in.

But one voice was audible over even that.

"Lindsay? Lindsay?"

"Danny." Lindsay staggered to her feet, knowing that the hostage – Danielle? Dana? – would be taken care of. She must have been imagining it; Danny never used her real name. It was always Montana, which she'd hated to start with but now made her feel … safe.

No matter what was going on in her life, Danny was constant: Montana implied fun, friendship and an unspoken bond between them.

She had never expected him to call her name – her real name – with such worry and desperation

Yet here he was, his hands steadying her, staying on her arms even after she'd got her balance, one moving to cup her face, as if reassuring himself that she was alright, before pulling her into his arms.

Lindsay buried her face into his strong chest, breathing in the scent that was just unmistakably him.

Aiden smirked at the darker stain that now covered Lindsay's cheeks. "And then he asked you out?"

"Yes." Lindsay confirmed. "And then I …" she winced. "I stood him up."

Aiden's mouth fell open. "You what?"

"I stood him up." Lindsay repeated in a heavy voice. "That afternoon, I got a phone call from back home …" She sighed, cradling her mug of coffee, taking comfort in the warmth it provided. "When I was fourteen, I was in a diner with my best friends. Apart from the waitress, we were the only people in there. They'd technically closed about twenty minutes ago, but we just kept talking. And then I … I went to the restroom to wash my hands. And … while I was in there, a man came in with a gun and … I was the only witness … the only survivor. I thought I left it all behind when I moved, but it all came flooding back and …" She shook her head. "It was the Bozeman Prosecutor's office, saying they'd arrested someone but they needed me to come back to testify."

"Danny would have understood." Aiden told her softly.

"Yeah, he would." Lindsay agreed. "But I couldn't … I couldn't begin a relationship while I was so focused on what happened back then; it wouldn't have been fair. I just needed some space. I didn't mean to stand him up; I just … I got that call and …"

"You went into shock." Aiden finished softly.

Lindsay nodded, taking a shaky breath. "So I told Danny that I just needed to work some things through and he told me to take all the time I needed."

"That's Danny." Aiden agreed.

"Yeah." Lindsay smiled fondly. "And we …" She was cut off abruptly by the shrill sound of the phone ringing, which was swiftly followed by a cry coming from the nursery. "Dammit. Only noise she won't sleep through. Could you …?"

"Sure." Aiden jumped to her feet and followed Lindsay's gesture into the other room.

Lindsay grabbed the phone. "Monroe."

"Lindsay, it's me." Sid Hammerback's voice told her. "I need you in autopsy right now. It's important. Don't let anyone know you're here."

For a split-second, Lindsay froze. Her first thought was that Flack had finally done something stupid and her eyes drifted to her lock-box, reassuring herself that both of his weapons were safely locked away with her.

Calm down. She told herself. Mac or Danny would be calling if it was that bad. Don's probably wasted or something and Sid doesn't want it on record, which is why he's not calling someone on duty.

"Alright." Lindsay said, managing to keep her voice measured. "See you in a few." She hung up and headed into the nursery, stopping in the doorway with a smile.

Aiden had managed to soothe Lucy and was now chatting to her quietly, occasionally making her giggle. "She's beautiful."

Lindsay started, unaware that Aiden had noticed her. "Thank you. Her name's Lucy, by the way. Lucy Aiden Messer."

Aiden looked up sharply. "Really?"

"Would I joke?" Lindsay asked in response. "Her middle name was the only part we agreed on. I wanted Lydia, but there you go." She sighed wearily. "That was Dr Hammerback, says he needs me in autopsy. Normally, I'd take Lucy in with me, but I never like taking her into the morgue and something tells me this needs to be kept quiet, or he'd have called someone on duty. I don't suppose you'd mind watching her until I get back? I won't be very long."

Aiden looked down at the baby. "Well, I've never been much of a baby person, but I think we can work something out, can't we Lucy?"

"She hardly ever cries, unless she's scared." Lindsay told her, grabbing her coat, badge and gun out of habit. "And there are bottles of milk in the fridge and diapers under the sink. But I changed her before I put her down, so you shouldn't need them." She kissed Lucy's forehead. "Be good for Auntie Aiden, sweetheart."

Aiden smiled as the door closed. Lindsay really did remind her of herself. "Well then, Lucy. Looks like it's just you and me for a while."

Auntie Aiden. I like the sound of that.

The crime lab was on the 34th floor of a high-rise building in Manhattan, which made getting in unnoticed a difficult task. Luckily for Lindsay, the building had its own parking garage, which meant she was able to take the goods elevator and convince the lone security guard – with a reassuring flash of her badge – to pretend he hadn't seen her.

"Alright, I'm here." Lindsay announced, closing the morgue door behind her. "What's going on?"

"Over here." Sid beckoned her closer and she joined him next to one of the drawers. Her heart dropped when she saw the name on the card.

Detective Jessica Angell

Lindsay had accompanied Jessica's body back to the morgue and had waited with Sid, both of them delaying the inevitable until Danny arrived back and informed them that all five men involved in the shooting had been killed resisting arrest.

The news had provided a dash of relief in an otherwise miserable day: Jess hated the idea of autopsies and had long-since extracted a promise from Lindsay that she wouldn't let it happen, if something were to happen to the homicide detective.

With all five dead, an autopsy was no longer required by law, which meant Jess could be laid to rest with her dignity still in tact.

Unfortunately, Jessica's parents had pushed for an autopsy anyway, something that Lindsay failed to understand and had tried, in vain, to talk them out of.

It had been a month now, and Sid had yet to begin, delayed by the more necessary exams and his own reluctance to cut into the young woman he thought of as one of his surrogate daughters.

Lindsay knew the only reason he hadn't handed her case over to another ME was that he too knew of Jess's feelings about the whole process.

She took another look around the lab, now almost hoping that Don was there, but they were the only two present in the silent, grey room.

"Sid," she began in a shaky voice, "I can't …"

"Now just a minute, Mrs. Messer," Sid interrupted, replacing his glasses on his nose. "I promise I didn't bring you here to watch the autopsy." He unlocked the drawer and pulled it out, revealing Jessica lying under a sheet, looking as peaceful as though she were asleep.

Lindsay couldn't help reaching out and brushing a strand of her dark hair away from her eyes, feeling a tear slip down her cheek. But this action caused her to frown out of confusion, rather than sadness. "Something's not right."

"Exactly." Sid agreed. "Look." He pulled the sheet down ever so slightly, just enough to reveal the gunshot wound on her shoulder.

But the wound – although repaired by the surgeons at the hospital before her injuries had proved fatal – wasn't as bad as Lindsay had remembered it. In fact, new skin had started to cover the stitches.

"Sid, does that usually happen?" Lindsay asked, poking it gently.

"No." Sid shook his head. "There's also the fact that she's far too warm for someone who's spent the last month in a freezer. That was what first caught my attention."

"Have you checked the generators?" Lindsay asked, focusing first on the explainable.

Sid shook his head. "They're fine. All the other bodies are the right temperature. And there's nothing different about this drawer."

"Warm, but dry." Lindsay commented, pressing a hand to her forehead. "Or rather, cool but dry. Nothing could come out of those freezers warm. If I didn't know better, I'd say she was dehydrated. But that's not possible, is it?"

"I don't know." Sid admitted. "I can't find an explanation anywhere. That's why I called you in. I wasn't sure if I've just been dealing with the dead too long that I'm missing the obvious."

Lindsay shook her head. "I can't think of anything. I've never heard of this. Why not Sheldon?"

"I didn't really want to call someone on duty." Sid confessed. "I don't want it getting back to Detective Flack."

"That's not gonna happen." Lindsay told him. "Don's still on compassionate leave. I've got both his weapons; he can't come back to work yet."

"That bad, huh?" Sid frowned.

Lindsay sighed. "Worse. I don't think he can go on for much longer, Sid. Between him and Danny, I feel like …" She trailed off.

As they had been talking, she had moved her hand from Jess's forehead to her neck, almost automatically, remembering how her mother had done that when she was sick.

She had never quite figured out how someone could better gauge a temperature from the neck than the forehead, but it had always seemed to work for Dana Monroe.

But Lindsay's unconscious movement had rendered a different result. It wasn't that Jess's neck was any cooler or warmer than the rest of her body, but something caught Lindsay's attention, something that caused her to move her hand to check for something else.

"Lindsay?" Sid prompted.

Lindsay looked up. "Sid, have you checked her pulse?"

Sid chuckled. "Lindsay, of all the questions … why would I do that?"

"Humour me." Lindsay requested. "I think I'm going crazy."

Shaking his head, Sid felt Jess's wrist.

Then her neck.

Then he placed a hand on her chest and bent down to listen at her mouth.

Finally, he looked up, staring at Lindsay. "You're not crazy."

Lindsay lifted a hand to stifle her sob, but it still echoed around the empty room. Somehow, miraculously, Jessica Angell was alive.

AN: Yes, I am still alive. Got bogged down under university work and Harry Potter fanfiction (you're free to tell me that's no excuse). This story isn't going to change that much, but I wanted to revise it, simply because my brain knows I can do better, and hopefully, it'll spur me into continuing with the series. Plus this chapter is roughly 1500 words longer than it was last time – that's almost the length of the essay I'm supposed to be writing.