Author's Note: My first story ever, and I'm glad to have lost my proverbial virginity to a D/L story. It was a fantastic ship to be sailing until some recent events...let us just hope everyone survives relatively unscathed. And pray that TPTB get their heads screwed on straight before this season is over.

So this is theoretically the first of many stories I plan to write. Hopefully, there will be many more stories to follow but Rome wasn't built in a day. Neither is my collection of stories. I hope you enjoy this and feel inclined to come back for more! This takes place before Lindsay's first day of work. The second chapter will be up in a day or two :)

I may have taken some liberties with geographical locations, so please forgive me. Also, I have decided God has been reincarnated as Google. It is the most amazing thing on earth. Praise Google.

Disclaimer: If you seriously think I own any of this, you should go get your head checked out. But just for clarification: Nothing that came from CSI: NY is mine.

Spoilers: Brief references to Zoo York

Summary: Lindsay never liked Tuesdays. And as she stands in the middle of Times Square after her first day at work, she discovers a new fondness for Wednesdays.

Unbeta'ed, so all mistakes are mine. If you happen to find the kindness in your heart and would like to beta my stories, please feel free to PM me. Thanks!

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Lindsay Ann Monroe was leaving Bozeman.

It was an early Tuesday morning. Lindsay was never a fan of Tuesdays because there was no logic behind having a Tuesday. It wasn't when all her favorite shows where on, like Thursday, or the beginning or ending of her week, like Monday and Friday. It wasn't the middle of the week, like Wednesday, or her weekends, like Saturday and Sunday. It was just Tuesday and what did that mean? Nothing. But here she was, making something of her wild card day, and packing all her boxed-up necessities into her father's truck. Most of her furniture was going to be stored on her family's farm until she had a place of her own in Manhattan.

Until then, she was going to be bunking with Uncle Freddy.

It was surprisingly warm for an October morning in Bozeman. While Lindsay and her dad loaded up the truck bed with her luggage, her mother stood and watched from the passenger's seat in the cab of the Ford. The three of them didn't have much time to digest the news between the phone call and when she was expected to start at the crime lab in New York City. Fortunately, her supervisor was understanding when she had to suddenly hand in her two weeks. It was no secret at the Bozeman Crime Lab that Lindsay had put in an application to NYCL to work under the famous Mac Taylor and hand-in-hand with the NYPD. She had received the phone call at a crime scene from Detective Taylor himself, and told her a position had just opened on his team and would love to have her as part of his crime-fighting machine.

Her mother watched teary-eyed from a distance as her husband and daughter carried down the numerous amounts of bags Lindsay was bringing with her. Lindsay caught sight of her mother in the truck and her heart wanted to break because her mother just looked so sad. It was hard for the two women to be parting ways, for she had never lived farther than ten minutes away from her family her entire life. Now she was going to be living 2,178 miles apart, give or take a few city blocks – not that she took the time to figure it out what the exact distance was, the night she got the news from Mac. It wasn't like she MapQuest it or anything weird like that. Because she wasn't obsessive or neurotic like that. Well, maybe sometimes.

Compared to the ten minutes that usually separated them, it was going to be almost thirty-three hours of driving, maybe even longer with the way her parents drove. It was a minimum seven hours of flying. Being this far away sent Lindsay into a frenzied panic and she thought knowing exactly how far from home she was going to be was a calming concept in an odd sort of way.

Lindsay knew she would start crying at the airport right before she walked through security. She was trying to stay strong for her mom, who looked moments away from losing it and sobbing. Out of everyone she was leaving behind, Lindsay was going to miss her mother the most. Their standing Friday morning coffee date had been a ritual for years, especially during college when Lindsay always had late classes on Fridays. Lindsay was home for dinner at her parent's house as often as she could be. Her father's smoked ribs and coleslaw were staples in the Monroe home, and they were very popular among her older brothers. And her mom's apple pie recipe that had been in the family for generations was to absolutely die for. It had even won the Best Pie award at the annual county fair a few times.

With one last sweep of her apartment and going through her mental checklist a final time, she blew a kiss goodbye to her old home and hopped in the truck, wedged between her parents. The airport was only eight miles from Bozeman up in Belgrade. Montana was littered with small, homely airports. The three closest airports to Bozeman combined she assumed could almost be as big as JFK or LaGuardia. Just miniature airports filled with a dozen or so terminals, and you always knew someone who was working. Bozeman was like that – it was one of those small towns where everyone's noses are always bumping up against each others.

When it was time for Lindsay to head through the security check point, she finally cried. Her mother had not been able to hold the tears in all day but really lost it when Lindsay hugged her good bye. As happy as her mother was for her, she hated the idea of her one and only little girl heading off to the big bad city by herself. It was a daunting concept that in a city full of eight million people, her daughter wouldn't get lost in the shuffle. According to the last census Bozeman had done, the population was close to forty thousand people. In comparison to their simple town, New York was overwhelming in the amount of cultural diversity and historical significance. Everything that was anything resided somewhere in one of the burroughs. And she had heard some of the stories her brother-in-law Freddy told when he visited over the summer. It made Ann Monroe shiver.

The two women shared a very tearful goodbye. Lindsay finally had to tear herself away from her mother and have one last bear hug with her father. He pulled her in close, his large arms holding her close to his chest. Lindsay hiccuped from her sobs and her dad bent down and kissed the top of her head.

"Lindsay Bo Bindsay, you will always be my baby girl. You have busted your ass for this and I will not stand for you not getting on that plane in an hour. Go get your dreams honey, they're waiting for you."

She pulled away and wiped at her eyes, sniffing just a little. Slowly, she picked up her carry-on bags and blew both her parents a kiss goodbye. They stood and watched her until she had made it through security and disappeared around the corner towards her gate. Lindsay patiently waited for close to forty-five minutes before she was finally called to board her first flight. Once reaching Minneapolis, she would catch another plan to LaGuardia, where Uncle Freddy was going to meet her. She was expected at the crime lab bright and early the next morning and dreaded having to deal with a time zone change while on her first day at work. She hoped Mac was a little understand, but nothing ever held Lindsay back from doing her job. Gaining two hours definitely wasn't going to inhibit her from making a good first impression on her new coworkers.

Lindsay seated herself next to a window so she could see the wheatfields one last time. It could be a long time before she had the chance to go home again, which meant no wheatfields for at least six months. She already knew she was not going home for the holidays which was disappointing. And because all of her brothers still lived in Montana and her oldest brother Alex already had a family, no one was going to be able to take the trip to her city and visit. It was understandable and reasonable, but it didn't suck any less.

As her small prop plane took off down the runway, she craned her neck to see the quickly disappearing scenery below her. After her eyes scanned the landscape for a few seconds once the plane was airborne, she finally saw acre after acre of wheatfields, growing smaller and smaller as the plane climbed higher into the clouds. She let out a breath she had not even know she was holding and leaned back in her chair. She had a long day of traveling ahead of her.

And on a Tuesday, nonetheless.

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"Is the traffic always this bad on Tuesdays?"

Lindsay turned to look at her uncle as he just shook his head and laughed. "Darlin', this is New York City. The traffic is always like this. If you think this is bad, just wait til you see rush hour on Mondays and Fridays. Now that is traffic you will never see back home, even if every car in the town was on the road. Learn to love the subway hun. Every true New Yorker does."

She turned to look back out her window, stuck in an odd trance as the city lights dragged by outside.

Lindsay was born and raised in Montana, having lived her entire life thus far in her little city of Bozeman. She had told herself that just moving to New York wasn't going to take that away from her. She had no interest in being a 'true New Yorker' as her uncle put it. In her heart, Lindsay knew she would always be a Montana girl. But what if the city did change her? What if she developed a thick accent like she had only heard in movies? She was going to miss her Jeep Wrangler as is, but was she really sacrificing her vehicle for the subway? For a brief moment, Lindsay considered battling traffic just to keep her car, but maybe she should take heed to her uncle's advice and at least try weathering the constant rush hour traffic and see how she felt after a week. I mean, if it was like this on a Tuesday, who knew what it was like on actual days of the week?

Before she knew it, the pavement playground they had been driving through began to give way to a quieter part of New York, full of lush green vegetation along the Hudson River. They passed a sign that said Welcome to Tarrytown and if Lindsay hadn't been so dead set on Manhattan, she might have considered living here. The entire town looked like a snapshot out of the late 1800s, like a gorgeous painting of a place that no one thought existed. A few of the houses actually had genuine white-picket fences. It was late by the time they arrived and the street lights lit up the roads in the small suburban neighborhoods they were driving through. Not long after the sign, her uncle pulled into a cute community of condominiums.

"Welcome to my humble abode, Miss Monroe. Just so you know, you are welcome to stay here as long as you need to. I know real estate is a fickle thing, especially in the city. I'll give you a quick tour inside but you will pretty much have free reign of the place. Now c'mon, let's get you inside and settled into bed. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow!" With a quick wink, Freddy picked up her bags and walked inside, Lindsay in tow.

He brought her bags all the way up to his guest room, which was quite larger than Lindsay was expecting. Freddy dropped her bags near the closet and moved back to her doorway, planting his hands on his hips. "Your bathroom is the door down the hall on the right. My bedroom is the door down on the left. Laundry room is downstairs near the garage. Kitchen has food in it, but I don't know if it is anything you take a likin' to. You're welcome to eat anything you may like. The family room is down there too, stocked full of books and movies incase you find some down town. Umm..."

Freddy's voice died off as he glanced up and down the hall, wondering if he left anything out. "Oh! If you noticed you need something, or forgot something, or whatever, let me know. I'm going shopping on Saturday and would be happy to pick anything up for you."

Lindsay nodded in thanks and turn to take in her room once more. Uncle Freddy mumbled a goodbye of sorts and closed her door behind him as he left. She heard him traipse down the hallway towards his own room. His door shut with a heavy slam that made Lindsay jump. A few moments later she could hear the eleven o'clock news coming from his TV. Faintly, she could hear a news reporter going on about a shootout between the NYPD at a crime scene of a known drug lord. She involuntarily shivered at the thought that, a little over twelve hours from now, that was going to be her in the midst of all that action.

With a heavy sigh, she peeled off her clothes and dropped them on a nearby chair, promising to unpack tomorrow. And what was supposed to take only a few seconds turned into a half an hour of picking out what to wear on her first day. Finally having settled on a nice purple blouse and dress pants, she crawled into her bed just as she could hear the sounds of Letterman's opening monologue drifting down the hall.

Tarrytown turned out to be fairly quiet, much like Bozeman, and it wasn't long before Lindsay was asleep.

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Tuesday evening traffic couldn't hold a candle to the traffic of a Wednesday morning. Her Uncle Freddy had decided to take the scenic route to the crime lab this morning, driving the long way into the city while giving Lindsay an impromptu tour, talking about streets and landmarks that meant nothing to her. As the name and locations simmered in her brain, she suddenly became overwhelmed at the thought of having to get around on her own at some point.

She was going to be issued a company vehicle once she arrived, and was looking forward to having a car of her own, kind of. As much as she appreciated her uncle giving her a ride, Lindsay felt bad and did not want to intrude on Freddy's life too much. But the prospect of maneuvering the crowded burroughs on her own was intimidating and suddenly the idea of the subway seemed much less stressful.

Currently, though, the two were literally stopped in traffic. Lindsay was half listening to her uncle ramble on about the nearby shops and places to eat. The roads were filled with taxis and buses packed full of men and women in suits and dress outfits. Most of the people that crowded the sidewalks were dressed casually, peppered with business people. Homeless people could be found on nearly ever corner, panhandling just to get by. Her sympathy went out to them as people bustled by, not giving them the time of day. Even with the gridlock taking over the city, everything flowed together. Crosswalks stuffed full of pedestrians and commuters weaving between stopped cars, vehicles attempting to turn on a red and just jamming up the traffic even worse. The traffic signals all perfectly in sync with one another, allowing a constant flow of town-cars and NYPD vehicles to drive the streets from building to building. All types of cars pulling up and pulling away from curbs, dropping off clients and paying customers or attempting to rejoin the hectic, never-ending flow of New York.

Lindsay was not paying the least bit attention to any of this though, not anymore than the criminalist side of her insisted on observing everything. Her attention was drawn a few blocks up, which was filled with obnoxiously large billboards and lights that were still bright at ten in the morning. Flashing colors and images raced by in front of her eyes, signs mechanically moving back and forth, up and down.

Times Square.

She turned to Uncle Freddy, who was pointing out the hundredth pizza place. Waiting for him to take a breath, she blurted out.

"Drop me off here."

He choked on a word in his throat and spun to look at her.

"You have to get to work soon anyway I'm sure. The crime lab isn't far from here and I could use the walk," she insisted, trying to not bounce in her seat out of excitement.

After looking at her for a moment, Uncle Freddy shrugged. "Ok. Well have a good first day. Call me if that company car thing doesn't work out." The two shared a hug as Lindsay hopped out of his Toyota Hybrid – "Great gas mileage," he claimed – and started walking straight towards Times Square. But as she approached what appeared to be the center of the world, her phone rang.

"Monroe."

"Yes, this is Julia from the New York Crime Lab. Detective Taylor asked me to call you. He said he needs you to meet him at the Bronx's Zoo."

The zoo? "Ok. Where, may I ask? I mean, the zoo is a fairly large place from what I – "

Julia cut her off. "Detective Taylor just said the zoo. I'm sure someone else can help you more once you arrive. Good morning, Detective Monroe, and welcome to New York."

Before Lindsay had a chance to respond, the receptionist hung up the phone. Lindsay stared at her phone for a minute before shoving it back in her pocket. Her first day in New York and she was going to be spending it investigating a murder at the zoo. It really wasn't what she was expecting, but then again, nothing she had encountered so far in this city was. At this point, Lindsay feared to even enjoy her first Friday or Saturday night off anywhere near this place. She had a feeling it was going to be a while before she dared venturing into this city without a true NYC expert by her side. If she only learned one thing today, it would be that New York was nothing like Bozeman.

And when she said nothing, she meant nothing.

Ducking into the nearest set of stairs for the subway, Lindsay dug around in her pocket for some change and boarded a subway train that was just pulling into the station. According to the map – if she even read it right – said she got off four stops away and would end up across the street from the crime lab. Her eyes darted around the train, slowly taking in the other passengers. The other people in her particular train loaded and unloaded in giant masses, squeezing out the sliding doors onto the platforms as more people crammed in, packing the compartment like a small can of sardines. Pushing and shoving and Lindsay tried not to whack the guy standing a few feet away and blatantly checking her out.

Lurching to a stop at her destination, Lindsay had to resist running off the train, patiently waiting as people shoved past her in an attempt to get off before anyone else. She climbed the stairs up to the street, people talking away on their cellphones rushing past her. Crossing the street with a large group of people, Lindsay located the front doors and walked inside.

The New York Crime Lab was a lot nicer than the one she had become accustomed to in Bozeman. First off, the building was easily over forty stories high, filled with an edgy modern decor. Quickly finding the right floor on the nearest directory, Lindsay headed up to the crime lab to obtain her new kit and the keys to a company vehicle. After getting directions from two lab techs and what must have been other CSIs, Lindsay confidently took off for her first crime scene in the new city.

She was just glad it wasn't a Tuesday.