AN: OK my avid readers, this is a prequel to my CSI: Miami story, House of Cards, which has been getting a lot of feedback (thank you!) However, I decided to touch on the not-so-eloquently-elaborated-on relationship of my OC Erin Caine/Erin Wolfe, and her former boss, Detective Mac Taylor. So here is their story! PLEASE REVIEW!

April 2002

New York City was the one place where everything came together. It was the once place that to her, seemed perfectly balanced between culture, economy, and excitement. Erin Caine knew, that living in New York was one of the greatest things she could have in her life. Miami, where her father lived and worked, was a beautiful atmosphere too, but it didn't hold the history of New York City. The only thing that was missing, was a job; something Erin couldn't obtain for various reasons. One of which was the fact that her mother never let her out of the apartment for a certain amount of hours, and despite much apartment-hunting, without money to pay rent it was kind of pointless. The second reason was that there was no job out there that she really seemed interested in; she was a science geek, loved all things forensic, and she had a high interest in law enforcement, something her mother frowned upon. Her father was a Bomb Squad officer in Miami, and that was why her mother had divorced him when Erin was just four years old.

Now, at the bright age of 23, Erin knew that it was time to stop letting her mother control her life. So, a quick phone call to her dad, and she had an interview with the head of the NYPD Crime Lab: Mac Taylor. She'd seen his face all over the television, on the fronts of newspapers, and other such places. She'd even seen him jogging once or twice down the street she lived on, but other than that he was just another officer of the law, one she admired greatly.

"Ma! Where's my flat iron?" the young woman called from the bathroom, still only in her robe, "I have to be at the crime lab in an hour! Ma!" Erin groaned in frustration, finding her mother passed out on the couch, and her flat iron in her mother's bedroom. She sighed as she plugged it in, only to find that it wasn't working, "Seriously?" she stormed into the living room, pulling the blanket off of her mother.

"Jesus, Erin! What are you doing?" the older woman squinted up at her daughter, obviously hungover.

Erin held up her broken flat iron, "This cost me two hundred dollars and you decide that you're just going to use it whenever the Hell you feel like it? It's broken, Ma, because you leave it plugged in all the time!"

Her mother glared up at her nastily, "Well I'm sorry, Erin, that I can't be as perfect as you are. Some of us have better things to do than to worry about a flat iron. Besides, my hair is much curlier than yours is."

"That's got nothing to do with it! I have a job interview in an hour and now I have to look like a hobo because my hair is a mess! You use it to make your hair look enough like a street walker's to keep Maseria's attention!" Erin stormed out of the room; her mother, Sharon D'Amico, was connected with the Italian mafia that ran the better part of Little Italy, well, more like acquainted than connected. Erin didn't take her mother's maiden name like the older woman had wanted, instead she kept her father's last name, which allowed her to gain a bit more respect when she was at school.

As she rushed into the bathroom to fix the mop she called her hair, Erin noticed that her suit wasn't hanging by the dryer like it had been; it was now on the floor in a ball. She quickly tossed it in the dryer, threw in a bounce sheet, and turned it on Permanent Press cycle for ten minutes to get out whatever wrinkles there were. Her damp hair was compliant after filling it with almost an entire can of mousse, and after fussing with a little bit of makeup, she threw on her dress pants, her blouse, which had come out of the dryer wrinkle-free, and her jacket. Quickly putting on her watch, and her favorite earrings, she slipped on her pumps and walked out the door, not caring if her mother awoke once again at the slamming door.

God she was going to be late if she didn't hail a cab soon! The young woman waved her hand fervently in the air, hoping one of the many yellow cars speeding by would stop for her. Finally, she caught one, jumping in and giving him the address of the lab she sat back against the seat, glancing at her phone: 2:35, she was going to be late! She couldn't be late, not for this interview; so thinking on her feet she paid the cab driver and got out, rushing down the last couple of blocks and running as best she could into the lobby of the building, "Hi, my name's Erin Caine I have an appointment with Detective Mac Taylor?"

The receptionist glanced at her computer, handing the blonde a visitor's pass before pushing a clipboard over to her, "Sign your name and the time here."

Erin glanced at her watch, 2:50, quickly she filled in her signature and hurried to the elevator, pressing the 'Up' button quickly, her eyes watching the red LED numbers slowly changing. "C'mon...c'mon..." she tapped her foot impatiently until the elevator bell dinged, allowing her to get in and press number 32.

2:53.

15...16...

2:54.

23...24...25...

Erin sighed, her patience long gone as she looked from her watch to the floor numbers and back, "Oh God, I'm gonna be late."

29...30...

2:57.

31...32. Finally! She stepped out of the elevator and climbed the few stairs that led up to the crime lab, and as she looked at her watch that read 3:00 on the dot, her heart lifted at the sight of all the technicians in lab coats, the detectives walking around with files, and other such work going on around her. She felt comfortable here, she felt like she fit in.

"Can I help you?" a voice brought her out of her daze, and she froze: it was him. His dark hair, lightly tanned skin, piercing blue eyes, and military physique; everything that the news portrayed him to be.

"Detective Mac Taylor, my name is Erin Caine, I have an interview with you today?" she knew she sounded idiotic; heaving breath like she just ran a marathon, and her face must've been bright red.

He smiled kindly, "You're right on time, follow me," he turned and began walking down the hall, and she followed en suite. The office he took her to was very open, the large windows behind the desk allowed a great deal of light to shine though, giving her the chance to see all of the pictures adorning the walls. They were military photographs, medals, and other such memorabilia, and Erin's eyebrows shot up in surprise when she noticed the Detective before her in all of them, much younger and dressed in Marine Corps. uniform.

"Have a seat," he gestured to the chair in front of his desk, sitting down behind it.

Erin nodded, sitting down in the chair provided before crossing her legs, looking down at her resume nervously.

Mac looked her over from head to toe: he'd expected someone who looked much more like the Lieutenant he'd met a little while back, but instead she was slender, tan, and had wavy blonde hair. The only similarity to her father was her eyes, "So, your father told me you're looking for a job in this field?"

"Yes, I recieved a masters degree from NYU in forensic science," she explained, handing him her resume.

The New York Detective looked over the paper, "Did you attend Police Academy?"

"For the National Guard, yes," she stated, wondering if she needed to get a badge with the NYPD first.

He seemed surprised, "You're Military Police?"

Erin looked at him for the first time during their conversation, "Was. I left duty last month."

"Alright, so we'll just have to authorize you a badge and a gun," his eyes scanned the paper again, "you live with your mother?"

Regretably, she thought, but didn't verbalize her distaste of her lodgings, "Yes I do."

Mac noticed the hesitation in her answer, but didn't pry, "Alright, well if you're anything like your father, I can tell you're reliable. Also I have faith in fellow military officers. So I'll give you a trial run for the next two days, and if I decide you're up to par then we'll talk about a pay grade."

Erin smiled, "Thank you, Detective."

"Call me Mac," he smiled, standing up with her.

She nodded, "Erin...so, tomorrow?"

Mac shook her hand, "Tomorrow, 8:00."

"OK, thank you again," the young woman turned on her heel and walked out of the office, holding in her excitement until she exited the building.

"I got the job! I got it!" Erin burst into the apartment, practically bounding with joy, although her mother didn't share her enthusiasm.

Sharon looked up at her from the feeble attempt at dinner she was making, "A crime lab? Is that really where you want to work, Erin? I'm sure you could find much better places."

The young woman stopped short, staring at her mother, "Why can't you just be happy for me for once? Be proud of me?"

"Proud of you for what? For getting a job just like your father? Congratulations you can waste your life away just like him," her mother sneered, chopping away at an onion.

Erin locked her jaw in anger, storming forward and flipping the bowl full of vegetables onto the floor, "You're the one wasting your life away," she turned on her heel, grabbing her mother's purse and ran back out of the apartment, not caring to listen to the shrieks of anger coming from the furious woman behind her. The brisk April wind blew through her hair as she ran down the street, the credit card tucked safely away in her mother's bag would pay for just about anything she wanted to eat, which at the moment was all she cared about. She would have to go home and face the music sooner or later, but for right now she just wanted a good meal.

After walking the streets for a good half hour, she decided on a small sushi bar tucked away by Rockerfeller Center. The cozy atmosphere of the restaurant allowed Erin to relax, and a nice glass of sake really lightened her mood. She was just about to devour the edamame appitizer she'd ordered, when she heard her name.

"Erin?"

She froze: Detective Taylor? What was he doing here? "Mac. Hi," she turned to see him, dressed in a suit and tie as he had been earlier, "just get off work?"

He nodded, looking at the empty seat beside her at the sushi bar, "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all," she removed her mother's purse from the seat and placed it on the chair on her opposite side.

Mac smiled, looking at the waitress, "I'll have whatever's she's having."

The server nodded, "One glass of sake coming right up."

The detective's eyebrows arched in surprise, "Quite a strong drink for four o'clock in the afternoon."

Erin nodded, "Yeah, well, I've had quite a successful afternoon, aside from going home, so I thought one drink wouldn't hurt."

Mac smirked, accepting the glass he was being handed greatfully, "Well, here's to your future at the crime lab."

She smiled in return, tapping her glass against his before taking a sip.

"Now what's this about going home?" he stated, catching the hint of sadness in her voice.

Erin sighed, "You caught that, huh."

He shrugged, "It's my job."

"Well, my mother's not the most supportive person, never has been. And she seemed, almost disgusted that I got a job like my father; because she feels that's what ruined their relationship, his work ethic, not hers. When, in fact, she was the one that ruined everything, for my father and for me...and I'm ranting because I'm drinking. Sorry," she turned back to her soy beans and began eating.

Mac looked at her, this wasn't the strong, confident young woman he'd seen in his office this afternoon. This was the other Erin, the one he'd thought he was going to get in the work place, "You know, you can always move out."

Erin chuckled, "Right, I need money to pay for an apartment first."

"So I'll pay you enough to get a rental and you'll work it off," he stated.

She stared at him, "No, I can't let you do that."

"I wasn't offering, and I'm not arguing it. You'll get a paycheck tomorrow," he smiled, turning to the man behind the sushi bar, "two Sunset rolls, please."

Erin watched him, intriuged practically, at how kind he was. He'd just met her not even an hour ago, and here he was giving her money to rent an apartment. She smiled inwardly, taking her plated of sushi from the man; she was going to love this job.

AN: Reviews make me happy! Tell me what you think!