Disclaimer: Utilizing characters from CBS merely for my own entertainment and creative expression, nothing more.

A/N: This is a chapter fic I began back in January, just now finishing the tenth (and final chapter). It's my attempt at writing adventure/suspense, though contains the usual fluffiness that I so love. :) Thanks to Elainhe for doing the pre-read, errors are mine as I did not have it beta'd.

◄RUNAWAY TRAIN►

Chapter 1

"We're in the middle of freaking nowhere, Montana."

Lindsay tapped her fingers on the armrest of the department SUV, humming to herself in an attempt to ignore Danny's fit of frustration. They were completely lost on a rutty mountain road, on their way to a crime scene. Despite this, she was enjoying the scenery; the lush forest around them was so dense, it blocked out the early morning sun above. They may have been in the mountains of New York, but it seemed more like the dark, dank jungles of Borneo. Lowering her window, she inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the air which was still heavy from the previous night's rainfall. The rich, mossy aroma filled the car, exhilarating her senses.

Being in the wilderness always made Lindsay happy, and so did being with Danny. Of all the feelings he evoked in her, happiness outranked even confusion. The confusion was not so much about her feelings for him, but rather, the uncertain state of things between them. They had reached a plateau in the ascent of their relationship: from coworkers to friends to more than friends, but not quite romantic. It seemed like an endless dance of cautiously circling, stepping forward, then stepping back quickly. Despite the lack of direction, she was content to simply enjoy being near him. Her heart would beat faster, she smiled almost involuntarily, her mood lifted; days never failed to look brighter when Danny was around. Perhaps that, she realized, was what kept her from trying to secure their romance. The fear of something going wrong was what kept her paralyzed--because once you reach that high, where else is there to go but down? Where does the line blur between candlelight dinners or flowers and arguing over the electric bill or who forgot to cap the toothpaste? Though the logic was twisted, she understood, it seemed easier to move along in a state of limbo. Taking risks was never something Lindsay was fond of, especially when she couldn't decide if the joy of having him would be worth the agony of losing him. Simply put, if he wasn't hers, she couldn't lose him. Still, she ached for something more than just flirting and the occasional light touch. She would often find herself fantasizing about what it would be like to fall asleep with his arms around her, or to become accustomed to the taste of his lips.

"Hey, do you mind? It's like the Arctic Circle out there," Danny grunted, pulling her out of her semi-conscious daydream and back into the car. Her window was open just a slit, but apparently enough for him to notice the mild draft. "Anyway, you're supposed to be my navigator."

Lindsay pursed her lips to avoid smiling. His endless stream of protests that morning—coffee too cold, raining, and now being lost—never ceased to secretly amuse her. Invigorated enough from the brief rush of fresh air, she rolled her window back up and squinted at the scrap of paper on which Danny had scribbled directions.

"You have awful handwriting," she teased, trying to decipher the words. "But according to this, we're on the right road—Rural Route 29. Maybe we just haven't gone far enough."
Danny checked his cell phone. "It's a wonder Mac hasn't called to see why we're late. If he finds out we haven't gotten to the scene yet, he'll be having our heads on a platter."
They continued along at a snail's pace, peering out the windshield for any clue that might lead them to their destination. It was so desolate, there was no sign of human life anywhere—just trees and shadows.

At last, Lindsay spotted a small wooden sign hammered to a tree. The paint was faded and peeling , making the crudely-stenciled words almost illegible. It pointed up a windy, ascending driveway; mostly loose dirt with sparse chunks of gravel. "Here we go—Booker's Mill Station. This is where we need to be."

She had barely finished her sentence when Danny slammed on the brakes, sending her lurching forward in the seat. Thrusting her hands out in time, she was able to avoid bumping her head against the dashboard.

"Sorry," he muttered, putting the vehicle into reverse and turning into the driveway. It was a steep incline which seemed to lead straight upwards into the canopy of tree tops. Thanks to the spinning tires, no progress was made towards finding out what lay on the other side.

Lindsay felt awkward as the wheels whirred and spun, and Danny cursed under his breath. "It looks like we're going to have to four-wheel it up there," she advised. "The ground is still too muddy from all the rain."

Danny nodded, but he didn't otherwise respond or move. After listening to the engine idling and his fingers drumming on the steering wheel, Lindsay guessed the problem. "You've never driven in four-wheel drive before, have you?"

He winced, as if though it were a blow to his masculinity. "Where exactly would I have had the chance to? Times Square? Not everybody grows up on a cattle ranch, Country Girl."

Lindsay smothered a chuckle before it surfaced. There's only one way to handle this, she thought, hoping he couldn't see the amusement on her face. "Get out," she commanded. She knew it was time to take charge of the situation. This was how they managed to balance each other out, and why they made a great team—they knew each other that well. "We'll trade places."

She unbuckled and slipped out the door, Danny following suit without argument. As they passed each other around the rear of the vehicle, their bodies brushed; a rustling of fabric and static electricity. The warmth coming from Danny's body was an unexpected delight which caused Lindsay to shiver. Being near him caused a chemical reaction deep within each cell of her body, a phenomenon which never lost its power on her.

"You sure you can handle this?" Danny asked, hopping into the passenger seat and watching Lindsay adjust the driver's seat to suit her small frame.

"If I can drive a John Deere, I can drive a Chevy," she replied with a rueful grin. He smiled back at her, and the brief eye contact caused a flutter in her belly. Shifting the vehicle into neutral, she turned on the four-wheel-drive, then changed gears again before gradually pressing the gas. This time, they moved forward steadily.

"Alright!" Danny cheered, as they sailed up over the embankment without falter. Lindsay thought—or at least hoped—there was a note of pride in his voice.

What stood waiting for them at the other end of the driveway was not what they had expected. There, in the middle of a clearing, was a single run-down brick building. Several dilapidated cars and trucks were parked outside. A freight train was stopped on the tracks, it's dusty brown cars seeming to stretch on for a mile.

"This dump is the train station?" Danny asked in disbelief. "It's like some kind of backwoods Harry Potter."

"Well, they haul coal, not people," Lindsay reminded him, parking next to a police cruiser. "It's just for picking up and unloading cargo."

After gathering their evidence kits, they headed towards the far side of the building where a group of uniformed officers milled about. The yellow police tape was a sharp, rude contrast to the calm greenery of the woods beyond. As they walked, Danny's hand would occasionally brush Lindsay's, and whether it was on purpose or accidental did not influence the electrical charge that would rush up her arm. Just being with him was so easy, so why couldn't the rest come as naturally?

"How you doin'?" Danny nodded to the head detective on the scene, Bert Wyndham. It wasn't really a question, just his customary greeting that Lindsay had developed a soft spot for. When he said it to her, her knees always felt a bit strange, like wobbly gelatin not quite set. After all, those were the first words he ever said to her. Three words, and her life had changed. Three words, and everything since had been a blur, carrying her away so fast she didn't know what had hit her.

"It's about time," Wyndham ribbed them good-naturedly. "I was beginning to think you got lost out there in the boondocks."

Lindsay looked sheepish. "Actually…" she began to admit.

"We just got the call less than an hour ago," Danny finished, nodding. "So, what have you got for us?"

"Prepare yourselves," Wyndham warned, stubbing out his cigarette with the toe of his boot. "This isn't a pretty sight."

"I know they said our vic was killed on the train tracks, but please don't tell me…". Danny grimaced, his voice trailing off as they came upon the victim.

Or what was left of him.