Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of "CSI:NY"; they belong to Anthony E. Zuiker and CBS.

Author's Note: Betcha all thought I'd disappeared completely, huh? Truth be told I just didn't have any time to write, and the plot bunny packed it's fedora and badge and went on permanent leave. But then this little nugget became ingrained in my subconscious. And I'll tell you right now...I can tell you already this one's got some mild epic-ness to it. But I have an idea where it's going. Quite a bit is written already but updates may still be few and far between as I straighten out the ending. I apologize in advance and expect my reviewers (if there are any) to keep me on my toes. :)

Author's Note II: I know that Messer single parent stories abound. This is my take on it.

Author's Note III: I'm not a fan of the title. But it's all I've got for now.

Author's Note IV: Last one, I swear. Constructive criticism is usually warranted and always appreciated. Like it, love it, hate it, please let me know.

-CSI:NY-

CHAPTER ONE: Just Another Day In Paradise

BeepBeepBeepBeepBee-

SMACK.

"Ow!"

Next to her husband, Lindsay Messer buried her head in her pillow to keep her laughter to a minimum. Her daughter, asleep down the hall, had just gone back to sleep-she checked the clock-a half hour ago, and she didn't want to wake her up again. She sighed into her pillow as she calmed down. If his alarm went off, that means I've only got a half hour more. She closed her eyes tighter, turning from the window, hoping she might actually get the full half hour.

Hot breath tickled the back of her ear and she felt teeth nip at her earlobe. "Good morning, Montana," a voice whispered in her ear.

"How's your hand? Did you miss the corner of the nightstand this time?" Lindsay muttered sleepily. She didn't turn over. Twenty-eight minutes, damn it.

"Yep," her husband, Danny, said, as he put a hand on her shoulder and rolled her over so she was facing him. She kept her eyes closed. His grandfather's dog tags dangled against her nose, and she wrinkled it to get them away. "I'm makin' breakfast. Kitchen. Ten minutes."

"I don't have to get up for another twenty-six minutes," Lindsay replied, never opening her eyes. "And if you start banging around in the kitchen you're going to wake your daughter."

"Our daughter," Danny gently pointed out. "And no, I won't." He kissed the side of her jaw and crawled out of bed, peeling off the wifebeater he'd slept in.

Lindsay heard footsteps disappear from the room. Twenty minutes, she thought happily.

The comforter disappeared in a flash, and she automatically drew her knees to her chest. "Danny!" she protested as the chill of the morning crawled up her bare legs and straight to her Tweety Bird shorts.

Too loudly.

From two doors down she heard a wail. "Danny!" she groused.

His laughter echoed from the kitchen, where he'd ran to escape the wrath of his wife at 5:45 in the morning. "You woke her up!" he called back matter-of-factly.

Lindsay stared at the ceiling for a few moments. Then she shut off her alarm and climbed out of bed, grabbing her fluffy robe from the back of the chair. She tied it as she came into the nursery. Lucy's tear-streaked face peeked at her from inbetween the crib slats. "Hi there, baby girl," Lindsay said soothingly, picking up Lucy. "Did Daddy wake you up this morning?"

"I heard that!" Danny yelled over the sizzle of a frying pan.

She shook her head. "Well, Daddy's making breakfast for Mommy, I suppose you can eat with us this morning." Then she sniffed. "Oof. After you get changed."

Two hands reached around her and plucked Lucy from her grasp. "I can do that. Eggs are almost done, go add what you want," Danny said. He raised Lucy above his head and stuck his tongue out at his daughter. "Hello there bella," he said. Then he wrinkled his nose. "Ooh, Momma's right, you smell."

"Danny!" Lindsay shook her head with a grin.

"Aw come on Montana, she didn't understand that," Danny said, bringing her over to the changing table. Lindsay stayed in the doorway as Danny changed her like an expert. Lucy giggled the whole way through it as Danny recounted the stats of the Yankees-Tigers game the night before in a singsong-y voice. Hearing about Alex Rodriguez ending the game on a flyout in right field had never sounded so funny.

Lindsay was in awe of her husband. Not that this was a new feeling. Every day he did something that made her love him even more-even if he had woke her up so she could be witness to this moment. Totally worth the loss of sleep. He flashed her a smug grin as she kissed him on the lips and the three of them went into the kitchen for breakfast.

Twenty minutes later, Danny was shaving as Lindsay towel-dried her hair next to him in the bathroom. Lucy happily jabbered away from the playpen in the living room. "So you're going to stop by the corner deli and grab the groceries when you get off tonight?" Lindsay asked as she bent over at the waist and tousled her hair.

"Yep, and then I'll grab Lucy-Bug from daycare and she and Daddy will spend some quality time with the Mets pregame show until Mommy gets home," he said, rinsing his face. He dried off and looked at Lindsay, whose hair was flyaway and wet from the towel. "You look good like that," he said, rubbing the top of her head and mussing up her already wild hair.

She hit him with the towel. "Shut up."

"All right, I'm outta here. I love you." He kissed the top of her wet hair.

"I love you, too. See you in twelve hours," Lindsay replied. She heard him saying goodbye to Lucy, pictured him grabbing his bomber jacket and walking the Harley out of the apartment to the elevator. The door closed, and Lindsay checked her watch. Lucy needed to be at daycare in a half hour. She looked in the mirror at her towel-dried hair. You look good like that, Danny had said.

She decided not to straighten it that day. She chose a pair of jeans and a purple blouse and put her wedding band on. Out in the living room, Lucy was having a wonderful conversation with something in her unintelligible baby babble. "All right, Lucy-Bug," she said, coming out of the bedroom. "Let's-"

She froze at the end of the hall.

She could see what Lucy was having the conversation with.

Or rather…the who.

They stood at the door. They were wearing baggy jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt…and they were pointing a gun in her direction.

Lindsay's mind raced as the color drained from her face. What the hell is going on…Her gun was locked in the drawer in their bedroom. Oh God, don't hurt my baby. She wondered how far away her husband was. Where is my phone… Could she disarm the attacker? No, not when they were that close to Lucy with a loaded gun. Jesus, Danny must've walked right by them on his way out! Down below, she heard the unmistakable roar of a Harley Davidson rev up and then disappear down the block. He was still here! He was right here!

"Mrs. Messer. Grab the baby," they said. "We're going to walk out of here like nothing's going on."

"This is a mistake," Lindsay said. "Whoever you are…"

"It's no mistake," her soon-to-be kidnapper barked. "Grab the kid and let's move."

Lindsay crossed the room and swept Lucy into her arms. "You're not going to get any ransom for us," she said, as Lucy sensed her mother's anxiety and started whimpering.

"We only want one thing, and we'll get it…if he wants his baby girl back in one piece," the stranger said. "Now move."

If he…Lindsay's heart sank. Danny!