In Heat

I'm only borrowing these characters for my own nefarious purposes…

The title says it all. I might as well tell you now – this is a pointless fanfic. The title describes Lindsay's state of mind and how it affects her day. Reader beware. If you're looking for something deep, this ain't it.

What kind of love have you got?
You should be home, but you're not
A room full of noise and dangerous boys
Still make you thirsty and hot

The Eagles – Victim of Love

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This was not the morning to get out of bed. This was not the morning to go to work. No man in the state of New York was safe. There was a madwoman on the prowl.

She had that familiar feeling when she woke up and turned her TV to The Weather Channel, and she became flushed at the sight of the pudgy, balding, middle-aged weatherman. She wanted him. Badly. She wondered if she could call in "In Heat." What would Mac say? She thought about the conversation they would have.

"Hi, Mac."

"Hi, Lindsay."

"Mac, I can't come in today. I'm in heat. No man is safe around me. Maybe I'll cool down tomorrow."

"You're fired."

Lindsay had to admit that she didn't like the ending to that story. She was sure that she was the only woman who experienced this. There were certain days when she wanted to jump just about anyone with a Y chromosome, especially since it had been two years since she had… well, you know.

Boy, I never noticed that weatherman before, she thought. She carefully looked for a ring on his finger, and when she spotted it, she turned the channel to CNN. Fortunately, there were only female anchors on this morning. She watched it for a couple of minutes before she felt compelled to turn it back to The Weather Channel. She flopped backwards on her bed in defeat, feeling very unclean, knowing that soon she would come to her senses and be repulsed by the fact that she had ever found this man attractive.

Just then her phone rang. She picked it up and she saw that it was Mac calling.

"Monroe," she answered.

"Good morning, Lindsay. There's a DB at 170th and Broad at Bliss Camera Shoppe. Flack's there already and Danny will meet you there."

Mac's directive was met with silence. If the unattractive weatherman got her all hot and bothered, how would she manage to work with Danny all day? Wouldn't it be ironic if Danny had to file a sexual harassment charge against her?

"Lindsay?"

"Oh, yeah, Mac. I'm...I'm still here."

"Is there a problem?"

"No…no…I was just…I'll be there Mac. Just give me the address again."

After she got the address, she disconnected the call. She stared at the ceiling for a few minutes before heading to the bathroom to take a cold shower.

This is going to be a long day.

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During her entire trip to work she kept repeating to herself, no eye contact, no eye contact. She knew from past experience that once she made eye contact with a man while she was in heat, she was done. She might as well kiss her dignity good-bye.

When Lindsay approached the scene, she saw the yellow crime scene tape across the door of the camera shop. Flack was outside the camera shop talking to the owner's daughter, who was dabbing her red, puffy eyes with a tissue. Lindsay then did what she promised herself she wouldn't do and looked the dark-haired, blue-eyed hunk of manliness in the eyes. When his eyes met hers, she felt warm all over and quickly averted her eyes from his, nodded in his direction, and entered the shop. Now, Flack was just a friend and he could only ever be her platonic friend, but today, all bets were off. She reminded herself of her 'no eye contact' rule and was grateful when she saw Danny's back to her. He was crouched down taking pictures of the murder victim. He must have strong thighs to hold that position for such a long time. STOP IT, LINDSAY! You've got to have self-control today. No eye contact with any male, especially not Messer. The last thing she needed was for Danny to see her struggling to keep her composure around him. She'd never hear the end of it.

Danny turned when he heard her approach. Lindsay's eyes were glued to the victim's body, and she got right down to business.

"Watcha got?"

"Male DB, 55 years old, gun shot wound to the chest. The vic's daughter found him when she came to work this morning. Flack's talking to her now. He usually gets here about 5 AM to take care of business before they open, and she gets here around 7, so without an ME here yet, I think it's safe to say TOD is between 5 and 7."

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Lindsay was proud of herself for making it through the day without violating her male coworkers. It really was a struggle, especially when Danny seemed to be following her around the shop. To an outsider, they probably seemed to be playing cat and mouse, with Lindsay trying to keep her distance from Danny, and Danny chasing her trying to figure out why she wouldn't keep still long enough to discuss the case and any evidence they came across.

Little did he know that there was a hormonal storm brewing within his partner that was barely being contained. He just thought that she was being distant.

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When they finished processing the scene, they headed back to the lab to process the evidence they had collected. All Danny could think about and talk about on their way back to the lab was how he needed coffee before he could even think about processing any evidence. Traffic was too heavy to pull over to buy some, so he would have to settle for coffee at the lab.

They pulled up to the lab and Danny dropped Lindsay off at the front entrance and drove off to find a parking space.

When he entered the building, he had one thing on his mind: coffee. He headed straight for the break room. As soon as he approached the doorway he made eye contact with Lindsay, who had her hand around the handle of an almost empty coffee pot. He looked at her, begging her with his eyes not to take the last of the coffee. She looked at him and smirked deviously as she poured the last of the coffee into her cup. She maintained eye contact as she reached for the creamer and sugar and poured them into her coffee. She stirred it and took the coffee stirrer out of the cup and tantalizingly dragged it through her mouth before depositing it in the garbage can. Danny watched her take her last few sips of the hot coffee before he totally lost it.

Fortunately for Hawkes and Flack, they entered the room just in time for a little entertainment. Danny walked over to Lindsay, took the empty cup out of her hand, placed it on the counter, and said, "One way or another, I'm getting my coffee." She saw him coming and she knew what he was going to do. He doesn't know who he's messing with today, she thought. He grabbed her around her waist, pulled her to him with one hand, and held her right cheek with the other and kissed her. He could taste the coffee on her lips and in her mouth, and he couldn't get enough of it. He was enjoying it a bit too much to realize that she wasn't pulling away from him.He felt one of her hands rubbing the nape of his neck and his hair, while the other pulled him into her at his waist.

Danny broke his mouth away from hers. He gave Lindsay a smug look, expecting to see shock and embarrassment on her face, but she didn't give him the satisfaction. Little did he know that she wasn't a shy country girl today. She was a woman in heat. She enjoyed every moment of it. And he knew it.

"Woah, Montana!" he gasped. He looked at her incredulously. Though he thoroughly enjoyed it, he was disappointed that he couldn't get a rise out of her. That would have turned him on almost as much as the kiss had.

They walked out of the break room thinking the same thing: I need a cigarette.

Flack just stood there with his eyes as big as saucers and his mouth wide open, while Hawkes sat with his elbows on the table and his chin on his fists looking dreamily at the pair. He knew that his payday was close at hand.

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The next morning, Lindsay groaned when her alarm woke her up. She turned it off and grabbed the remote that lay beside it. She turned on the TV; it was still on The Weather Channel. As Lindsay watched the pudgy weatherman forecast a clear and sunny day, she said out loud, "What was I thinking?"

Yes, it was going to be a sunny day, but her personal heat wave was over.

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A/N: I know nothing about the streets of NY. I just threw in a couple of street names. I am absolutely no good when it comes to writing about crimes, but I did what I could.

I know that I said that I wouldn't write anymore fanfics. Guess I lied. I wonder if writing fanfics is addictive. I know that reading them is.

Please let me know what you think about this – the good, the bad, and the ugly. Keep in mind that I do realize that it's absolutely pointless and is not exactly cohesive, but I typed it and I don't know how to fix it. So, here it is!