Disclaimer: Do we really have to go through this? Ok, for the record, yes. Yes I do own everything to do with CSI, and I'm making 100 dollars an hour for writing this fic... ha ha, I wish.

Pairing: D/L, Dantana, M&M's, whatever floats your boat.

a/n: This randomly popped into my head, as I listened to Sum 41 in the car...

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Danny Messer whistled quietly to himself as he lightly jogged up the steps of a high-rise apartment building. In his left hand he held two new pool cues, and in his right was a single tulip along with a bottle of whiskey. He smiled once he reached the top of his last flight of stairs and headed along the poorly lit hallway.

.

Danny stopped at the fourth door from the top and knocked loudly.

"Montana! I got those cues, and some booze, but I don't think your table will hold our weight, not like mine did," he called loudly through the closed door, laughing as he did. After a series of clicks, the door opened to reveal a man in his late fifties. Danny stepped back in shock.

"Who the hell are you?" the man asked. "And what are you doing here?"

"I was, uh, looking for Mont-, Lindsay," Danny replied sheepishly, realising who he was confronting by the similarities between the man and his daughter.

Lindsay appeared behind her father and spotted Danny.

"Crap. Ah, Pops could you give us a minute?"

Johnny Monroe glanced at his daughter, then glared at the young man in front of him before turning inside.

.

"Jesus Montana, you could have warned me!"

"I couldn't. Your phone is off and they literally arrived on my doorstep with no warning."

Danny nodded.

"Well I suppose it's time you met them anyway. I mean, your parents met me already."

"That was an accident, who'd have thought my ma and dad would wanna see the same movie as us?"

"Well Messer, it's great to know that taking our relationship further is a high priority for you."

Danny laughed. "I'm already runnin' Montana. Blink and I'm gone."

"I best not sleep tonight then, Cowboy," Lindsay replied, winking.

.

"Who was that, Johnny?" Ella Monroe asked.

"Some kid, well, man. Here to see Linds."

"Oh? Did you get a name?"

"No, and I'm not sure I want to. Didn't you hear what he called in through the door?"

"I was in the kitchen with Lindsay. Why, what did he say?"

"Something about booze, and a pool table not being able to hold their weight."

"John, she's thirty-four. I'm sure she's not a vi-"

"Ell! Look who you're talking to. I don't want to hear that stuff. Anyway, he looks rough, leather jacket, biking gloves in his pocket and a troubled face. Spells disaster."

"Don't be such a drama queen. I'm sure he's a lovely boy. Maybe he's that Danny she was talking about. The one from work."

"What? She never mentioned him to me." John said, looking put out.

"I can see why. You tied Francie Carlin to the porch when you caught them kissing all those years ago."

"She was sixteen. And was in no state to make decisions after, after what happened. You know what, I've noticed that Lindsay usually does tell me if she's met a boy. Unless, he's not..."

"Not what? Not the kind of man you want for her? She can make her own decisions, Johnny, you can't hold on to her forever. You can't lock her in her room like when she was fourteen. I just hope he is a nice boy, after me sticking up for him."

"I hope he can run, I like a chase," Johnny muttered.

Ella shook her head at him as the young couple walked in.

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a/n 2: So, is it ok? Or should I scrap the whole thing before too many people read it...? :D