This one shot is part of the Fanfic Quote Swap Challenge set by Smuffly and Kates89

in the CSI NY Forum. The idea is to combine a main character, a familiar place from the show and a quote from the show, all in one fic. The story should be a one-shot of any length, and can include other characters and places. The quote needs to be used by the main character that you have picked.

I was given Adam Ross, the court house (inside or out) and the following quote...

"You can choose to live in a place of fear or you can believe in the best version of yourself." (Originally said by Mac.)

This takes place after … well, that would be telling wouldn't it?

I leave you to work out which episode.

.

The two lab techs jumped as Mac suddenly materialized behind them, his face grim. "Have you seen Adam?" he asked in a tone that indicated something was urgent.

"Er ... I think he went to consult Edna," muttered the taller of the two, a somewhat unpleasant individual who went by the name of Bane. He always gave the impression that he looked down his nose at everyone and everything and he clearly had it in for Adam as he seemed to go out of his way to give him a hard time. "... but he's been gone ages. He's probably in the break-room." Mac looked at him for a split-second as though he was about to say something else but then he whirled around without another word and went of in search of his prey.

"Oh-oh! Looks like Adam is in trouble with the boss," muttered the younger of the two, a newbie called Hamish. Timid by nature he hated the idea of anyone getting into trouble.

"Serve him right," announced Bane haughtily. "I don't know why Detective Taylor keeps him on," he sneered. "Everyone says he's a genius but I think he's just been lucky." Hamish didn't say anything. He rather liked the soft-spoken, easy-going undisputed King of the AV lab. In his opinion, not that he dared voice it, the term genius didn't even come close. "Let's hope Taylor will give him what for. Now make sure you you set that to the right temperature." Hamish sighed and carried on with his menial task under the watchful eye of his training supervisor. A few minutes later Mac strode down the hall accompanied by Adam. They were clearly heading for the Mac's office. Hamish watched them, a worried expression on his face. Mac ushered Adam into his office and closed the door. "Ah ha! See. Told you," gloated Bane. They watched Adam slink into a chair while Mac stood, his hands on his hips, his entire body language shouting his displeasure. "Oh what I wouldn't give to hear that!" Hamish felt the sudden urge to shove the spatula he was cleaning somewhere the sun didn't shine.

.

"Me?" Adam asked in a voice that he knew was too high as he stared at Mac in surprise. "Why me?"

"Adam!" chided Mac gently at the look of utter horror on the young man's face. "Please?"

"But what do I do …? I mean ... what do I say? Wouldn't Stella or Lindsay be ..."

"Adam! He's on his own, surrounded by strangers. He needs a familiar face right now. Your face." Adam opened his mouth to speak but Mac held up a hand. "He needs you Adam." Adam felt the heat rise to his cheeks. It wasn't the words exactly but the utter confidence with which his boss spoke. "Believe in yourself. You'll find the right words."

.

Bane felt a moment of total satisfaction as Ross exited the boss' office, shoulders bent, head down. He went straight to the AV lab, scooped up his bag and headed for the elevator. For one tiny moment Bane allowed himself to believe that Ross had got the sack but he was unable to indulge in his fantasy as the boss headed back to the layout room with the clear intent of speaking to him. He wondered whether a promotion might be on the books now that Ross was out of the way. However he was totally unprepared as Mac addressed Hamish.

"Hamish, Adam tells me you're familiar with the disk recovery programme?"

"Er … yes … er .. sir … I … er ..." stammered the young man nervously.

"Excellent! Adam's had to step out on urgent business for me and I really need a result from the laptop we recovered in the McGraw case. Could you take over for him and get me the results as soon as you can?"

"Er … yes … I just need to … er..." He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder to indicate that he had an unfinished task to attend to.

Mac gave a half-smile. "Don't worry about that. This is far more important. Bane can finish off here can't you Bane?" Bane gave a strange kind of half-gurgle that Mac took to be a yes. "Good. When you've done that, you can finish that comparison Adam was working on. Just leave the results for him to check." He turned back to Hamish. "As soon as you can Hamish if you please." He turned around and strode back to his office with a smug smile plastered on his face leaving behind one flustered but happy lab tech and a stony-faced one who was about to spend the rest of the afternoon sterilizing spatulas and comparing latex samples.

.

Adam stepped out of the cab and looked at the yellow post-it note in his hands. He looked up at the building in surprise. He had expected to be standing in front of the imposing City Court House. Instead he found himself standing outside a modern, rather bland-looking office building. The grey stone building rose some eight floors above him. Several flags hung limply in the heat of the afternoon but he was clearly in the right place as the word Court shone out at him in stark steel lettering. Adjusting his messenger bag on his shoulder he crossed the pavement and pushed his way past a group of youngsters sitting on the short flight of steps being watched over by a harassed mother who was all but screaming into a cell phone. He dodged around a couple of overweight women who were leaving, one of whom had her arm around the other who was crying her eyes out. He gave them what he hoped was a sympathetic smile and managed to squeeze his way into the lobby grateful for it's air-conditioned interior after the stifling heat outside. He looked around uncertainly at the multitude of people milling around or huddled in groups or standing hopelessly awaiting who knew what.

"Bag in the tray. Empty your pockets. Step through," barked a voice to his right.

He jumped. "Huh?"

"Bag in the tray. Empty your pockets. Step through," repeated the voice. It belonged to a middle-aged African-American woman in a smart security guard's uniform with piercing eyes and the most immaculate hair-do Adam had ever seen. She looked at him like he was an idiot and gestured to a blue plastic tray.

"Oh right!" Adam pulled off his bag and put it in the tray. She pushed it through the X-ray machine, her eyebrows raising at the tangle of electronics displayed on the screen in front of her. She looked suspiciously at Adam who was busy emptying his pockets into a smaller tray. He caught her look. "It's a laptop and … er … my cell phone and an iPod … and an iPad … and a Nintendo DS. For work … well … not the iPod or the Nintendo obviously… they're … er … mine," he finished lamely. He dropped a handful of coins into the second tray along with his keys, a packet of gum, a pen, a paper-clip, the ring-pull off a can, a pair of latex gloves, some plastic tweezers and a handful of condoms in a multitude of coloured packets. The eyebrows rose higher. Adam looked at the woman and then at the tray. "For work ..." he assured her. She stared at him. "No really ..."

"You work at the crime lab," she drawled. A statement, not a question.

The surprise on Adam's face was clear. "How did you …? She gave him a scathing look and nodded at his chest. Adam looked down and realized that he was still wearing his ID on a chain around his neck. "Oh yeah right." Embarrassed he took it off and dropped it in the tray. The woman pushed the tray into the machine and waited for him to step through the gate. Adam prayed that the alarm wouldn't go off. He was relieved when it didn't. He glanced at the security guard. He thought she seemed disappointed. Hurriedly he jammed all of his stuff back into his pockets. His cheeks flushed pink as he picked up the condoms. "For work," he repeated. The look on her face said 'yeah right!' She clearly didn't believe him. He decided he wouldn't even attempt to explain that he was in the process of identifying the brand of one found at a crime scene when Mac had called him. "I'm looking for ..." he began.

"Information," she pointed to a desk at the far side of the lobby. Adam jiggled backward and forward trying to see past the mass of people walking through the hall.

"Right, er thanks."

She nodded and then suddenly flashed him a wolf-like grin. "You have a good one!" Adam swallowed and she turned to her next victim. "Bag in the tray. Empty your pockets. Step through."

.

Adam fought his way across the hall until he reached the information desk. A stunning young woman with short spiky hair and enormous green eyes was busy giving directions to an elderly man. Adam jiggled nervously as he waited for her to finish. Finally the old man seemed to understand and wandered aimlessly away. Adam stepped up. She looked at him expectantly. "Hi. Can I help you?"

"Hi. I'm … er … Adam Ross. I'm … er . looking for ..." He broke off as she smiled at him. She had a lovely smile.

"Oh yes, Mr Ross. I've been told to expect you."

"You have?" Adam's jaw dropped in surprise which seemed to amuse the young woman. She hid her amusement quite well. "Yes sir. Fourth floor, room 407." She reached under the desk and came out with an ID wallet. She pulled a card from a recess hidden under the ledge of the desk and slid the ID into the holder. Then she stood and pinned it to his shirt. "There you go. Elevators are over there."

"Oh, right! Er .. thanks."

"You're welcome." She smiled at him brightly. She really did have a lovely smile. He stared at her for a moment, a moment longer than was polite. She giggled. "Elevator, fourth floor, 407."

Adam felt himself blush. "407. Got it."

.

The fourth floor was the opposite of the lobby. One side of the building was sealed off from view by a long wall and an imposing set of doors that were closed. A lone security guard sat at a desk on one side. He replaced the phone's handset on it's cradle. He nodded at Adam as he stepped out of the elevator. "407, third on your right," he announced pointing to Adam's left. He had clearly been warned of Adam's impending arrival. Adam nodded his thanks and set off down the corridor, his footsteps silent on the grey carpet. The further he walked the quieter it seemed to get. There were no windows only doors on both sides. They were all closed. He looked to the right. 407. He stopped and wondered if he should knock. He raised his hand but then hesitated. What the hell was he doing here? He was out of his depth, way out of his comfort zone. A flood of doubts threatened to submerge him but Mac's voice penetrated through his mind. Believe in yourself. He needs you Adam.

Adam took a deep breath, tapped quietly and opened the door a crack peering into the room beyond. The room was brighter than he had expected as the sun shone through the slats in the Venetian blinds. It was a plain room with the same grey functional carpet. A second door stood to his right. Closed. A row of grey upholstered chairs sat pushed against one another along two of the walls to his right and under the windows. A low coffee table was positioned near the chairs with some periodicals, comics and books stacked in untidy piles. A bottle of water and a cup sat on the edge of the table. They looked untouched. The only decorations in the room were a large framed black and white photograph that Adam recognized as being called 'Lunch atop a Skyscraper' and, in a corner, a large pot plant that had shed several leaves on the floor. Adam winced recalling that Lindsay had given him one like it for his birthday. He had come home one day to find that all the leaves had dropped on the floor leaving behind a pathetic spindly looking stick. Feeling guilty he had bought another one to replace it without telling her only to have that one do the same thing. Clearly he was no good with plants. He sighed.

Adam stepped in and closed the door quietly behind him. The only occupant of the room sat in the far corner, his head down, his hair covering his face. He gave no sign that he had heard Adam enter. He looked uncomfortable in a stiff grey suit that seemed to hang on his tiny frame. Gripped tightly in his hands was an iPOD, the wires of the headphones dangling. He looked so alone. So very alone. Adam forced a smile as tears pricked at his eyes.

"Hello Jake."

The boy looked up sharply as though surprised to see someone else in the room though he must have heard Adam knock and enter. He blinked not believing his eyes. For a moment he just stared. Then suddenly, without a word, he jumped up and ran across the room throwing himself at Adam. Adam staggered at the force of the hug. He could feel the boy's skinny arms through the sleeves of the over-sized suit tighten around him. His eyes misted over and the words caught in his throat. He desperately wanted to say something but found he couldn't. The words wouldn't come. All he could do was wrap his arms around the boy and hold him close.

.

They sat next to one another on the plain grey chairs, Adam's bag at their feet. Jake was still gripping the iPod. Adam smiled. It had been his not so long ago. He wasn't sure what to say. Idly he reached down and picked up the fallen leaves from the pot plant. He looked at them for a moment realizing that he didn't know what to do with them. He caught Jake's eye and he thought he saw a glimmer of a smile. Then he put them on top of the soil in the pot."Mac … I mean Detective Taylor told me your uncle is ill."

Jake nodded. "The doctors at the hospital said it was a heart attack. Stress." He looked up at Adam. "My fault," he added simply.

"No," Adam shook his head thinking how pale the boy looked. He could clearly remember the instant that he had found him hiding in a cabinet at the crime scene and how he'd coaxed him out with the offer of a soda and the use of his iPod. He looker thinner now, the shadows beneath his eyes darker. "No Jake it's not your fault."

"Yes it is," countered Jake matter-of-factly. "My dad dying. Knowing that I killed him. The court case. It was me. I caused it." He shrugged.

"He's going to get better. He's going to be all right, you know that, don't you?"

Jake shrugged again. "It'll be easier for him when I go to prison."

Adam's jaw dropped. "Whoa! Hold on there, Jake. Who told you you're going to prison?"

Jake shrugged again. "That's what they do with murderers."

Adam took a deep breath. "Jake, listen. This is a family court. The ADA, that's the Assistant District Attorney, he didn't think it was necessary to go to the supreme court. This is what this hearing is all about."

"But they'll know I'm guilty."

"Who?"

"The jury."

Adam shook his head. "Jake, there is no jury. There's a judge, that's all. He's going to look at all the evidence: the report from the police, the statements from your uncle and your teachers and the one from the doctors you talked to and the statement you gave to Detective Bonasera and then the judge is going to decide what's best for you. All you have to do is answer is questions simply and clearly. Tell them what you told me. You tell them about your OCD and how your Dad was … mean sometimes, how he … bullied you but how you … er … still loved him. Okay you tell them that."

Jake looked away. Adam knew he was crying. "They're not going to believe me. I killed my dad. I deserve to go to prison." Adam pulled him him close and let him cry. He could feel him shaking. The tears welled up in his own eyes and he could feel his throat constricting.

"It's going to be all right Jake." A stupid thing to say. How could it be all right? Adam felt like kicking himself. Why couldn't he find the right words? Mac's words popped into his head again. Believe in yourself. He needs you Adam.

"I'm scared."

Adam cleared his throat and blinked away his tears. "I know"

The second door opposite them opened sending a blast of cold air across the room. A woman in a dark suit entered. She nodded a greeting to Adam. "They're ready for you now Jake."

Jake raised his head. Adam could see the fear in his eyes. "I can't ..." he whispered. Adam got up and sank to his knees in front of the boy. He scraped Jake's hair away from his face and wiped away his tears away with his thumbs. For some reason he felt angry that no one had bothered to cut his hair or get him a suit that fit properly. He took the boy's small hands in his looking down at the iPod nestled in their combined grip. He looked up, suddenly filled with a confidence he didn't know he had. When he spoke his voice was firm and gentle and assured.

"Jake, you can choose to live in a place of fear or you can believe in the best version of yourself. You can do this. I know you can. Trust me."

Jake looked at him intently for a few seconds as though coming to a decision then he nodded. Together they stood. Another leaf fell off the plant. They both looked at it. Jake bent down, picked it up and put it on top of the soil. "Ficus," he announced. "They're very sensitive." He nodded towards the door opposite. "They don't like drafts." Adam smiled. So that was the reason why.

The woman smiled at them. "Would you like Mr Ross to go in with you Jake?"

The look on Jake's face was a sight to behold. "Can he?" he breathed, his voice quivering with emotion.

"Of course. That is, if it's all right with Mr Ross."

Jake looked hopefully at Adam. Adam nodded and extended his hand. Together they walked through the door.