This one shot is part of the Fanfic Events Challenge set by Kates89 in the CSI NY Forum. The idea is to take a major character, a minor character and then an event like a funeral, wedding etc. The story has to take place at the event, it can be however long or short that you want it to be and other characters can feature in the story!

I was given Lindsay Monroe, Claire Taylor and a team-building event!

I confess to having taken a lot of liberties with the term 'team-building event' and I realize that Lindsay and Claire could never have met but having already taken the 'supernatural route' for the Christine and Jess story challenge, I wanted to stay away from that theme so I am kindly requesting, dear dear readers, that you suspend your disbelief! Pretty please!

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Words of a Stranger!

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Lindsay!

She ran.

Lindsay!

She ran, oblivious to everything but the need to get away: the teacher calling her name, the rough dune grass that scratched at her bare legs, the wind that whipped her hair into her face. She didn't care. She just ran. The only things she was conscious of were the rush of air in her ears and the cruel taunting words in her mind.

Coward! Hiding while your friends died. Coward!

She ran as fast as her legs would carry her. She stumbled down the dune turning her ankle on a rough patch but she ignored the sharp pain. It didn't matter. She needed to get away. It was only when she realized that she had nowhere else to go that she stopped. The waves crashed onto the shore a few yards from where she stood, their foamy white claws clutching at the sand as though desperately trying to pull it back into the murky depths. The shore stretched away in both directions as far as the eye could see. Scrubbing at her face with the back of her hand she felt the sting of the salt in her eyes, not from the sea but from her tears.

The beach was quiet. It wasn't quite summer. Far away a man walked his dog, a large border collie that jumped in and out of the waves as though it were playing a friendly game of leapfrog. A group of walkers were huddled together their backs turned observing some unseen object on the horizon. Two women in pink tee-shirts jogged gently along the water's edge dodging out of the way whenever a wave came too close, scared of getting their designer shoes wet.

Not far away, a young couple were trying to spread out a picnic blanket. They were laughing as it blew around in the breeze refusing to submit to their will. The man pounced on it like tackling an opponent and flattened it down as the woman tamed one corner with a picnic basket and knelt on the other. The woman reached into a bag and began to blow up a beach ball. Lindsay could see the man shaking his head but couldn't make out his face to know whether this was a good or a bad thing.

Lindsay!

She caught the faint whisper of her name on the breeze. Frantically she looked around. She couldn't go back though she knew she must. Just not yet. The lifeguard's hut stood a little way up the beach, the red flag flying warning of the danger of swimming. It was closed. There was no one there. It wasn't quite summer.

Lindsay ran up to the whitewashed structure and dropped to her knees. She crawled through a gap in the trellis that skirted around the hut ignoring the sharp piece of wood that tore at her shirt and the sand that filled her shoes as she scrabbled on her hands and knees to the far side. She caught her knee on a jagged stone, drawing blood. It stung as she crawled thought the sand but it didn't matter. The physical pain was better than the hurt she felt in the pit of her stomach. She curled herself into a tight ball, her knees drawn up to her chin, her hair hiding her face.

Tears filled her eyes once more. She was so angry, angry with Charlene at the cruel words she had spoken, angry with herself for the bitter words she had thrown back, angry too that she had run away instead of facing them, angry that she was doing exactly what they had accused her of.

Hiding. Angry and ashamed.

She indulged in her tears. Agonising, bitter sobs wracked her tiny frame. Little by little they subsided until all that was left was the sound of her own ragged breathing and the gentle crashing of the waves. She had no idea how long she had sat there. It seemed like forever but was in all reality only a few minutes. Eventually, she looked around, curiosity getting the better of her. Just above her head the solid wooden floor of the lifeguard's hut was supported by a dozen short fat pillars that had been sunk deep into the sand. A whitewashed trellis had been erected around three sides but it was broken in one corner. She could see the trace in the sand from her hands and knees where she had squeezed through. The fourth side was a set of open stair treads leading down to the water's edge. She started as a slim pair of legs came into view. The feet, encased in small white sand-shoes with impossibly long laces, mounted the steps stopping on the last but one and turning around as though to look out to sea.

Lind...say!

She gasped as the person called her name in a sing-song voice splitting her name into two syllables. She didn't recognise the speaker. The shoes descended slowly one step at a time. She thought they might leave. She held her breath. They stopped. A slim pair of hips came into view as the person sat down on the second step. Lindsay had the impression of a pair of jeans cut off below the knee and a dark blue sweatshirt, several sizes too big. She shivered. She wished she had her own sweatshirt but she had taken it off when they had started the game.

The anger surged back like the waves on the shore. The game. The stupid game that had forced her and Charlene into their argument. The whole stupid trip that was supposed to help her and classmates get over the tragedy. How was she supposed to get over it? The teacher kept talking about healing and grieving and building new friendships. She didn't want new friendships, especially not with Charlene. She just wanted her friends back. Tears threatened to come once more.

"I love the sea," came the voice. "Don't you?"

Lindsay didn't answer.

"I think it's a good place to come and think. Get away from it all."

She had a nice voice, a teasing, lilting voice. Suddenly a head appeared. The woman smiled at her through the gap in the steps.

"Your teacher's worried about you."

Lindsay felt guilty. She nodded. "I know." Her voice was almost a whisper. Miss Reade was nice and kind and always had time for her. Suddenly she was ashamed of herself and the tears forced their way down her cheeks despite all her efforts at controlling them. She rubbed them away angrily annoyed that she couldn't control herself. She tried to push her feelings away so she looked at the woman instead. She was beautiful, with a wide open gaze and a full mouth. She had tucked her long wind-blown hair behind her ears in an attempt to control it. Her smile was slightly lop-sided. It made Lindsay want to smile too but she didn't have the energy. "I want to go home."

Lindsay was surprised at herself. She didn't know why she said that. It wasn't any better at home. Her parents were wonderful, kind, loving, always there to hold her when she cried but it was the others, the friends, the neighbours, the people in town, the kids at school and most of all, the mothers of her friends. They all stared at her whenever she went out. The one that got away! She felt like a freak. The woman was still looking at her but she wasn't staring. She wasn't judging her. She didn't know what had happened.

"My friends were killed," she blurted out suddenly, not even sure why she did. A flicker of surprise crossed the woman's face but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

"I'm sorry," she said simply. And she was. Lindsay could see it in her eyes. She had beautiful eyes, warm and expressive but there was something else. Sadness. Lindsay had the sudden impression that this woman had lost something … someone too. Someone precious.

She didn't know why she spoke, telling this stranger everything but she did. The words tumbled out. "We were in the diner and I went to the bathroom. I saw it happen. I saw him come in … and shoot them … but … I was in the bathroom and I … I hid." The woman nodded, her face neutral, no surprise, no shock and no condemnation. Just simple understanding. "I should have helped them. I should have gone out there. Charlene's right. I am a coward." Lindsay buried her face in her arms.

"Oh Lindsay!" Lindsay could hear the shock in the woman's voice. "You know that's not true!" She took a deep breath. "If you had gone out there, you would have been killed too and that wouldn't have helped your friends." Lindsay shrugged. That was what everyone kept telling her. "You survived. That's hard but now there is something you can do to help your friends."

Lindsay lifted her head. She was puzzled. No one had ever said that to her. "What?" she asked tentatively.

"Did they catch the person who killed your friends?" Lindsay shook her head. "Would you recognise him again if you saw him?"

"Yes!" The answer was immediate. Of that she was sure. Whenever she closed her eyes she could see his face, those cold dispassionate eyes devoid of all feeling, those lips sneering as he pulled the trigger again and again. She couldn't forget that face. The face of a monster. It was burned into her memory forever. "Yes! I'd recognize him."

The woman smiled at her conviction. "The police will catch him one day..." she said with utter confidence. "... and then you can get justice for your friends."

Lindsay frowned. "Justice?"

"You can make sure he goes to prison for what he did. You need to tell everyone what happened. Do you think you can do that? Stand up in a court and tell them exactly what he did?"

Lindsay thought about it for a moment. There was something that she could do? Justice? Justice for her friends.

"Yes." Lindsay straightened her shoulders a little, lifted her head, her chin jutting out. "Yes. I can do that."

The woman's smile widened. "Then, Lindsay, you are not a coward and you go back and tell that to Charlene!"

Lindsay!

They both turned their heads at the sound of the voice.

"Ready to go back?" She wasn't but Lindsay nodded anyway. The woman stood up and Lindsay wriggled out from under the stairs. The woman smiled down at her and reached out a helping hand. She saw Miss Reade with a panicked expression on her face running up the sand towards them, a dark-haired man close behind her.

"Lindsay? Oh Lindsay, are you all right?" Her teacher wrapped her arms around her. "We were so worried about you. It's going to be all right. I'll have words with Charlene. The others told me what she said. It was very wrong of her to say that." She brushed the hair from Lindsay's face. "Oh you're cold and you've cut your knee. Come on. Let's get you cleaned up." As she turned to leave she looked back at the couple. "Thank you," she mouthed as she led Lindsay away. "Thank you."

The teacher warbled on but Lindsay wasn't really listening. She looked back over her shoulder. The woman was still watching her. It was then that Lindsay realized she was the woman with the beach ball. The woman lifted a hand in farewell just as the dark-haired man joined her. She waved and they waved back. The man put his arm around the woman's shoulders and they turned away. Lindsay reached the dunes and the path that led back to the centre and the couple were lost from sight. Lindsay felt a sudden pang of regret that she hadn't thanked the woman. She hadn't even asked the woman her name. She knew that they would never meet again but she wished she had asked her name.

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Lindsay!

Lindsay almost dropped the photograph she was holding. Mac smiled as he held out a glass. She replaced the silver picture frame on the shelf and nervously took the drink. "Thank you."

"Okay here we are everyone." Stella entered with a large tray of appetizers.

"Stella, those look awesome!" Don Flack rubbed his hands in glee making Danny and Sheldon roll their eyes. "You know you had me worried there. For a minute I thought Mac was cooking!"

Mac feigned a wounded expression. "Hey! I can cook!"

Don pulled a face and Stella sniggered. "Yeah cheeseburger!"

"But,you have to admit it's a very good cheeseburger?" Mac threw her a disarming smile. She giggled. "Well, everyone got a drink?" Seeing that they had, he turned to Lindsay. "Well I know you've been here for a few weeks now and I admit it's been a hectic few weeks but I thought it was time that you got to know the team a little a better." He raised his glass. "To Lindsay … and officially … welcome to the New York Crime lab!"

"Yeah welcome Lindsay!" Stella clinked the tip of her glass to hers as the others chorused their welcome.

"Yeah welcome to the team Montana!" Lindsay shook her head in mock annoyance at Danny but she couldn't help a slight blush as he smiled broadly at her. She smiled at her team. Her team. Even after only a few weeks she felt that she could truly say that this was her team. This was where she was supposed to be. She smiled at Danny again.

As they all dug into the appetizers Stella had prepared, she couldn't help taking another look at the picture on the shelf. The woman pictured there was beautiful with her long hair tucked behind her ears, her open gaze and full mouth pulled into a lop-sided smile. Even with her cut-off jeans, the over-sized blue sweatshirt and the little white sand-shoes with impossibly long laces, she looked beautiful. Lindsay felt that she was looking right at her.

She glanced at Mac who had noticed her interest. She could see the sadness in his eyes as they alighted on the picture. "Your wife?" she asked softly.

Mac nodded. "Claire," he answered to her unspoken question. She narrowed her eyes wondering if he knew, if he remembered. He gave her a secretive smile and a tiny nod of his head but before she could ask Stella stuck a tray of Greek Meze under his nose.

"Now Mac, you have to try these. I know you missed lunch," she cajoled rolling her eyes at Lindsay who suppressed a giggle at the look on her boss' face. They turned to join the others and Lindsay took one last look at the photograph. She had never forgotten the words of the stranger on the beach.

They caught him. It will be a while before he comes to trial but when he does I'll be there. I will get justice for my friends. Thank you … Claire.