As usual, I don't own or have anything to do with CSI: NY except to watch it :p ... and let my imagination run wild.

Chapter 1:

Today, Lindsay was grateful that someone else had the body. Hawkes and Stella worked in sync on the John Doe, as she walked around the warehouse dusting for prints, collecting trace and trying to find something in the disorder of some kind neglectful storage system. For the most part, now at least, it was a mindless job—which was a good thing, because she was having a really hard time focusing.

It all went back to Mac's surprising news that morning.

"You're kidding," Lindsay stared at the official city envelope sitting on Mac's desk.

Mac shook his head. "According to Jordan, the mayor was very impressed with both of you in dealing with the Belchinski case and watched the deliberation on closed circuit cameras in his office. So he saw both of your testimonies over the evidence."

"Why did he take such a personal interest in the case, Mac?" Danny asked, crossing his arm.

"Belchinski was a close personal friend. His wife apparently said some very kind words about you both."

Lindsay remembered the woman, and the sadness in her eyes. They'd talked on and off for several months, from the murder to the trial, but she'd had no idea the woman new the mayor.

"I'm surprised he didn't have you on the case."

Mac nodded , his brows drawn together. "I was at the beginning, but as evidence started pointing toward Belchinski's partner, I stepped back. He lived across from me and Claire for a number of years. I convinced the mayor that because our relationship had been bad then, that he needed to trust me with my staff. You both made me proud."

"So what's in the envelope?" Danny asked.

Mac picked up the evelope and turned it over in his hand slowly. "Looks like you get to take Lindsay to this year's Kennedy Center Honors."

"Wow," Lindsay said, at the same time Danny blanched and said, "That's not a reward, Mac. That's torture. No way. No way."

"Thanks, Danny," Lindsay murmured.

"What?"

Even now, as she wondered through a crime scene, his comment stung. Oh, she was wise enough to know he was objecting to an evening in a tux, not one with her, she couldn't help but wish he'd wanted to take her, wanted to escort her to some place really cool.

They showed the program on public television, so it would be something her parents could see and appreciate about her new life.

But no, not with Danny Messer. He didn't even consult her before he turned the tickets down for both of them. Lindsay had turned to Mac and told him she could find someone else to go with her. She had other friends. And other people on their team might like to go; Hawkes, Stella or even Flack.

But no, the tickets, were given as a reward. They would be representing the department, so it was either them or the gift would go to someone else.

Lindsay had thanked Mac and walked out of his office to head out with Stella to the crime scene. Mac would probably tell Danny he was expected to go now. And that wasn't the point.

I would look fabulous is a dress, Messer, she mentally chastised.

But underneath the hard cop exterior, she was a girl, and she had to wonder if her being in a dress was enough for Danny at all.

"Lindsay." She turned toward Stella's voice, where she was helping Hawkes zip up the body in a long black morgue bag. "We're going to get our vic out. We'll be back in a sec."

Lindsay held up her finger print duster. "I'll be here."

"Try and get finished before we get back," Hawkes teased, using his hand to sweep around the large warehouse. Lindsay laughed, despite herself and shook her head. More of their lab techs were on their way to help out, but right now it was just her and two other uniforms doing their best to find something amidst the chaos. Whoever owned this place—and they hadn't yet gotten in touch with the owner—didn't really care too much about his property. It was just … everywhere.

And there was always the chance that the disorder was part of a over large crime scene.

But the question was … who would care about what looked to be recalled toys? Or maybe the question was … what else was, or had been hidden, in this place.

Her phone rang

"I got the tickets."

"Because Mac told you we had to take them."

"You wanted to go, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I want to go," she walked around a set of crates and studied an ajar door before carefully pushing it open. "But that's not the point, Messer."

"What?"

Lindsay shook her head as she went to get her case. For one smart guy, he could really just be so typically male sometimes. And sometimes, though you had to do it, you didn't want to have to spell it all out.

She set her case down in the darkened room and retrieved her flashlight. The beam highlighted a stack of papers on a very unorganized desk, three chairs with more folders and papers, and several crates stacked around a rusty file cabinet.

At first glance, she couldn't tell if the mess was natural, or part of their crime scene.

"Listen, Danny, I'm at a crime scene. Right now's not the time to get into this."

"I didn't realize there was something to get into."

She shook her head as she stepped further into the room.

Then the peppered sound blasted through the room, causing a horrific echo. Lindsay's hand shook as the phone clattered to the floor.

Machine guns.

She spun around, her hand on her weapon, in time to see her fellow officers fall to the ground. Men had filed into the room, nearly a dozen. Half of them had semi automatic weapons …

And there was absolutely nothing she could do.