Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of CSI:NY; they belong to Anthony E. Zuiker and CBS.
CHAPTER ONE: Breaking In the New Apartment
Lindsay Monroe fumbled with the keys in her hand. After almost dropping them twice, she finally turned around and deposited her purse and two grocery bags into the hands of the person behind her. "Here. Hold these."
Danny Messer grunted under the weight of the newfound objects...and prayed that her neighbors wouldn't step into the hall and find him holding a purse. The horror of all horrors! "Sure, I'll hold your purse," he grumbled.
"It's only for like a second," Lindsay said. "Yes!" she said triumphantly as the key slid into the lock and opened the door with a click. She pushed the door in wide, and stepped into the room, looking like a kid at Christmas. Sunlight streamed in through the big window in the living room, and she eventually drifted out of Danny's eye line.
He stood in the hallway, holding her purse, two grocery bags, a laptop case over his shoulder, one hand gripping a suitcase on wheels, and a duffel bag slung over his other shoulder. "No problem, Montana!" he called out. "I got it-oof. I'm good!"
From somewhere in the apartment, Lindsay's voice rang out. "Danny? What are you waiting for?"
"Hell to freeze over?" he mumbled to no one in particular as he maneuvered his way into the apartment. The grocery bags immediately went to the counter; the purse was dropped to the floor near the fridge. The suitcase was propped against the door; the laptop he set gently down on the kitchen floor. Her duffel bag with her clothes was pushed over near the little closet. Freed of his burden, Danny finally got a good look at Lindsay's new apartment. After living with her uncle in Tarrytown for almost three years, she had finally found a place that opened up-in Manhattan, no less. The landlord didn't seem shady (Danny and Hawkes had done a full background check on the guy), and was asking for a little over four hundred for the place. Mac and Danny had done a man's construction overview on the place, determining it wasn't going to collapse into the floors below it, or that the neighbors next door wouldn't hear it if Lindsay and Danny...well, never mind. And Stella had already offered interior decorating tips, and she was at some department store now picking up housewarming presents for Lindsay, but only Danny knew that.
She came out into the kitchen, her eyes shining. "What do you think?" she demanded of him with a smile.
He had to admit, the place seemed too good to be true. The door opened into the kitchen. To his left was a small storage closet-the kitchen appliances and countertops were to your right as you stood in the doorway. There was a small wall that tried to separate the kitchen and living room. The living room took up most of the apartment, with two big windows that let a lot of light into the space. From the living room, there was a small hallway that took you to the little bathroom and Lindsay's room. It was big and bright, and offered a good view of the skyline. Plus, it was only on like the fifteenth floor, which in Danny's mind was good for safety. Closer to the bottom, easier to get out.
"Same thing I told you yesterday when I was in here checkin' the place for roaches-it's a nice place," he said, enjoying it thoroughly when his response lit up her face. She stepped toward him and ran a hand around his waist.
"I think it's perfect," she said.
"Well, if you like it, I know I do," Danny said.
She hit him. "That was cheesy."
He wiggled his eyebrows. "You wanna go break in that mattress in there?" he asked.
She sighed. "Damn, that's tempting. But I can't; Stella is coming with a bunch of stuff, and I have eight million things to buy..."
"Montana..." Danny pressed.
She turned so she was facing him. "No. Not now." Even as she said it, her face drew closer to his. She closed her eyes. "I'll never get anything done," she sighed.
About a half hour later, there was a knock on the door. "Linds?" Stella Bonasera called as she stepped into the apartment, having not heard an invite in. She set down the bag of kitchen essentials she'd picked up for Lindsay on the floor and looked around. The place seemed empty.
Then she heard it. "Oof...hey, hey, here..."
She stood in the kitchen and grinned as Lindsay came calmly out of the hallway, nonchalantly tucking in her shirt. "Hi, Stella!" she said happily.
"Hi yourself," Stella replied with a knowing grin. Lindsay turned tomato red but shrugged it off. "Mac borrowed one of the company trucks to haul stuff from your old place to here. He and Hawkes are waiting downstairs, and Flack said he'd come help when he got off in a couple hours."
"He'll be just in time for dinner," Lindsay frowned.
Stella grinned. "I know. I'm pretty sure he planned it that way." She suppressed a laugh as Danny came into the room. His hair was decidedly disheveled. At least Lindsay had tried to hide it. "Hey. Helping Lindsay unpack?"
Danny coughed. "Uh...Mac downstairs?" he asked quickly. Without waiting for an answer, he disappeared out of the apartment.
When he was gone, the two women exchanged looks. Then they burst out laughing. "Making yourself at home, huh?" Stella teased her.
"Testing out the neighbors," Lindsay replied easily. "No complaints yet!"
Thee hours later, most of Lindsay's furniture was settled in, and her stove was getting broken in between her and Stella. Salad waited on the table while the men were in the living room trying to put together Lindsay's high definition television. All of them were in to their second beer by now, even Flack, who'd only gotten there a half hour ago. Good natured ribbing abounded about men and electronics.
"All right, guys," Stella said. "Give that thing a break and come eat!"
As they sat there, Flack was the first to bring it up. "This place is a steal, Monroe," he said. "How'd you manage to get so lucky?"
She shrugged. "He said he was having a hard time renting it out. Not sure why."
"I don't see why," Mac Taylor said. "This is about as good as it gets. It's nicer than my place, and I make more money than you."
"Not by much!" Hawkes cut in, and everyone laughed. "Seriously, though," he continued. "What's wrong with it?"
Lindsay shook her head. "I didn't see anything," she said with a glance at Mac, Flack and Danny. "And neither did you guys, right?"
"Just the usual wear and tear," Danny said between bites of risotto. "Plumbing all works, no roaches...that's the unusual part," he teased. "Appliances are in good shape...Maybe it's the neighbors or something."
"Well, I'm just glad I got a place closer to work. It beats the train from Tarrytown and listening to Uncle Freddie's snoring," Lindsay said. She glanced around. "Still has a lot of work yet, though."
"Danny'll help you with that," Stella said under her breath.
Only Lindsay caught it, and the two of them started laughing again.
After everyone else had gone home that night, Danny and Lindsay settled in the living room on a blanket to watch The Amityville Horror (the original, not the lame remake). With Halloween being right around the corner, it seemed only natural that Lindsay's small horror flick collection came out.
"Just think, Montana," Danny whispered into her ear halfway through the movie, "your place coulda been like theirs. My first place outta college was like that."
"Your walls bled?"
"No, wise ass. Just flat out creepy. I swear the place had somethin' else living there."
"You lived in the Bronx; I'm sure it probably did," Lindsay shot back.
"Ouch, Uptown Girl. Gosh, a girl gets a place in Manhattan, all of a sudden..."
She hit him with the pillow.
The end of the movie rolled, and Lindsay had to untangle herself from Danny's arms to shut the TV off. Her digital clock read 1:30 a.m. Danny was sound asleep on her floor, and she made a mental note to wake him so he could get to work in six hours. She hit the power button on the television and crawled back to Danny.
Had she watched the television a split second longer, she would have noticed an image stay even after the set had faded to black. It lingered a moment...and then just like the rest of the screen, faded into darkness.
Author's Note: Back into a genre I enjoy so much. How'm I doin'? Constructive criticism is usually warranted and always appreciated.