Several months ago, not long after the news of Melina Kanakaredes' departure from the show, I had a dream. That dream spawned this story, of which I offer the first part now, for anyone who wishes Season 7 to go a little differently. I hope you enjoy.

(Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I claim to. All works contained herein are the product of this author's twisted imagination; any resemblance to real persons or situations are unintentional)

A New Beginning

"This is Josephine Danville. She comes to us from the Memphis Crime Lab, where she was the night-shift supervisor. Hopefully we'll all be able to work together..."

"Oh, don't be so formal!" she jokes, aiming a discrete elbow at his ribs. "Everyone please feel free to call me Jo."

The room is filled with a stony silence – cold and heavy – and Jo's smile becomes dimmer. Eventually a voice pipes up.

"Welcome to New York. What made you decide to come all the way up here?" Sheldon Hawkes takes pity on the woman standing before them, and offers an olive branch. The relief in her eyes is evident, and even as the wave of increased anger hits him from the side, Sheldon cannot bring himself to regret his question.

"Well, I know this position is technically a step down," Jo explains, keeping her tone carefully neutral, "but the truth is I'm just not a night person. There was no opportunity to move within my department, so when Mac called about the position here I was thrilled to accept it." She offered a tentative smile.

Mac Taylor sighed softly, and surveyed the faces of his assorted team members – his family for all intents and purposes; Lord knows he spent more time with them than with anyone he actually shared genetic material with. He appreciated Sheldon's attempts to be welcoming, or at least civil, to the newest member of their team.

Mac had known Jo Danville for close to twenty years now, despite her long affiliation with the Memphis P.D., as thus the obvious problem of distance. Her husband, Steve, was an old friend of his from the Marines, and he had been introduced to Jo back in '80, still green and new to the Corps. They had kept in sporadic touch over the years – phone calls, emails, Christmas cards – and so when the position in the New York Crime Lab became available, Mac had immediately thought of Jo. He had heard from Steve that, although elated by her promotion to shift-supervisor, she had struggled to adjust to working nights only, and had become increasingly discontented. Of course, Mac had been diplomatic enough not to mention any of this when he spoke to her; he'd simply expressed that he knew her to be an extremely thorough and competent forensic scientist. She had jokingly suggested he had only offered her the post due to nepotism, but he had assured her he was impressed with her record, and felt she would be a good fit with his team in New York.

Now however, scanning the sea of stony faces before him, Mac had to admit he may have over-stated the last part. This wasn't going to be as smooth a transition as he had hoped. He was particularly perturbed by the dark look on Danny's face, and couldn't help notice Lindsey's hand gripping his arm to keep his mouth shut. He resolved to have a talk with each of his team individually – he knew this was going to be hard, but it didn't have to be impossible.

"Alright guys, I believe there's still work to be done," he stated firmly. "Go ahead and get back to your cases; if anyone needs me Jo and I will be in my office. I need to brief her on our caseload, procedures and such."

He didn't fail to notice the relief emanating from everyone as they hurried back to their evidence. Both Sheldon and Lindsey stepped forward to shake Jo's hand, and welcome her to the Crime Lab (he was equally aware of the somewhat forced nature of their words). Danny remained by the door, saying nothing. Mac supposed his silence was better than the alternative.

"Well," Jo breathed as the last person exited the break-room. "I think that went well."

She shot a look at him from the corner of her eye, and he gave a surprised laugh in response. He supposed he shouldn't be that taken aback; he knew Jo's dry wit all too well.

"Sorry about that," he offered. "It's been...a rough couple of months." His voice trailed off as his throat tightened.

Jo nodded sympathetically. "So, what was that about caseloads and procedures? Should I grab some coffee first?"

The corner of his mouth turned up slightly, acknowledging the change of subject. "Better make it two."

Several hours later, Mac sent Jo to the break room with a stack of case files to go over at her own pace. He knew he didn't need to treat her like a rookie – after all, on Lindsey's first day she'd been thrown right into her first case, and she was less experienced than Jo. Still, he'd decided to go slower this time, to allow not only Jo but the rest of his team to acclimate to the new situation. It had been a turbulent few months, and judging by the morning's introductions everyone was still on something of a knife edge. So he wouldn't rush things. Starting tomorrow he'd put her down for call-outs with Hawkes or Lindsey – he didn't think Danny would be good idea yet.

Heaving a sigh of the eternally-overworked, Mac turned back to the files on his own desk. He was proud of his team, and proud to head one of the finest crime labs in the country, but sometimes he wished someone else was in charge. The paperwork alone was enough to drive a sane man to madness.

A tap on the glass door of the office pulled Mac's head out of his paper nightmare. He nodded, indicating permission to enter.

"Flack?" He rose from his desk chair, suppressing the desire to grown as his joints popped. "What's up?"

"Nothing new," Detective Donald Flack Jr. responded carefully. Too carefully. Mac raised an eyebrow.

Flack caved – he wasn't really looking to play mind games. "Heard your new CSI started today. Thought I'd come by and introduce myself."

Mac nodded slowly – he'd suspected as much.

"You talk to Danny?" he asked. The younger detective met Mac's eyes and nodded almost imperceptibly.

"He's ah..." Flack paused, searching for a diplomatic way to say the words.

"...not happy?" Mac offered. Again a nod. He raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. He'd been afraid of this. He lifted his head as Flack sighed.

"I'm sure she's just fine Mac...it's just not the same, y'know?"

"I do know that Don," Mac responded tiredly. "But things aren't the same anymore. Danny's got to start dealing with that." He paused, and added more softly "We all do."

Flack nodded. He did know things had changed, as he knew that his younger CSI friend was refusing to accept it. He was also pretty confident that Mac was still struggling with the adjustment too – he just didn't have the luxury of displaying it.

"Anyway, Jo's in the break room if you really do want to meet her. You can't miss her," Mac said, "she'll be the one buried in a stack of manila folders." He offered a small smile.

Flack grinned in response, and turned to head out. He knew a dismissal when he heard it.

"I'll see you later Mac."

"Yeah, see you Don." Mac was already distracted, his mind pulling him back in time, back to before things changed. He mentally shook himself – that was a pointless path to travel down. Much as he might occasionally lament the fact, time only moved forwards. Dwelling on the past served him no purpose, at least not in the office. In the solitude of his own home, he could ruminate to his heart's content but for now he had to let it go. He sighed, and turned grudgingly back to his own stack of folders, wondering idly if they were in fact multiplying every time his back was turned. It might explain how the pile never seemed to get any smaller.