I was sitting on a train for nearly three days (through my own choice), and my muse went into over time with these two. I don't know where it came from and I certain don't know where its going…ok, so thats maybe not true considering I have a few more stories planned.

Odd ending, I know and if anyone can tell me where the expression comes from, then I will be deeply greatful. Cause its an odd one.

Hope your enjoying :)

It was the morning after the night before and Lindsay felt good.

"Scrap that," she thought to herself as she stepped out of the elevator and into the crime lab, a renewed spring in her step. "I feel brilliant."

Her good mood had been with her when she woke, with the startling blue eyes of the certain New York detective staring at her as though if he took his eyes off her, then it would all have been a dream. A wonderful, breathtaking dream, but a dream nonetheless.

It had been there when he had shyly kissed her good morning and asked whether she wanted cereal, cereal or cereal for breakfast, and she had answered him with a laugh. Telling him that if she was going to spend the night more often, then he'd have to think about actually stocking his kitchen with more than just beer, pizza and cereal. As enjoyable as it was.

It had still been there when she had attempted to get dressed, only for him to come back in the room several minutes after he had left it, catch her in the art of redressing and undo all the work she already done. She had giggled afterwards when he had tried to help her, deciding that he was definitely better at taking some things off, as to putting them on.

He had got her to work on time, with a stop to pick up breakfast, so she couldn't find anything to fault him on and her good mood continued.

She was putting the finishing touches to her appearance in the locker room and chatting to Hawkes, when Stella had walked in. The senior CSI greeted Lindsay and Hawkes before going to her own locker and pulling out some of the essentials she's need for the day.

It was a minute or so in, when Stella, catching something out of the corner of her eye, suddenly slammed the door to her locker shut and advanced on her young college.

"You had sex last night," she stated, folding her arms and grinning as though she knew something.

It took Lindsay a lot of willpower not to run her fingers through her hair, or bring a mirror out to check her neck for any oblivious signs and give the game away. While on the other side of the locker room Hawkes, who had just taken a mouthful of water when Stella has spoke, nearly choked and ended up spraying the majority of it down his front.

"Not you," Stella said, waving a hand absently at him. "You." She pointed at Lindsay.

The woman in question felt her cheeks heat up, a sure sign that she was blushing, but she make an attempt to head Stella off.

"What are you talking about?" Lindsay asked in a voice that she hoped carried a bit of disinterest in it. She kept her head buried in her locker.

"Sex," Stella said. "You know that thing people do together. Usually in twos."

"I know what it is," Lindsay told her, finally feeling brave enough to fully emerge from her locker. "I just don't know why you think I've been getting any. Aren't I still supposed to be moping around in utter despair?" She looked over at Hawkes for confirmation.

"That's what the reports are still saying." Hawkes told her.

The lab gossip mill, which had always been on fine form, was one that Lindsay was very familiar with.

Her arrival had sparked talk of how long she would last to how long she and Danny would last. Now that they where no longer a couple, though trying to salvage a friendship out of the whole mess, bets where being made as to how long Lindsay would stick it out for, before packing her bags and go crawling back to where she came from.

That was from the hardliners. The ones Danny could have as groupies if he wanted.

Where their words had once stung and left her doubting her presence in the prestigious New York crime lab, they now held a different meaning to her and it had all started with her appearing to work one morning not long after the infamous break-up and Hawkes saying quite calmly to her that he was surprised she had managed to make it to work that morning.

She had been on the edge of snapping at him, when something in the tone of his voice had led her to ask why and he had informed her, that he had been confidently informed that she had jumped from the statue of liberty, fully decked out in a white wedding dress while carrying a bunch of blood red roses.

Lindsay had merely stared at him, till he remarked that she was looking terribly well after the whole ordeal and it was then that she lost the inner battle with her emotions and her laughter could be heard all the way down the corridor. Mac had even left his office to see what was going on, only to find two of his CSI's in hysterics in the break room. He expression at the time, merely set them off again and he couldn't help but check the coffee pot for any added extra's.

Whenever she saw Hawkes that day and caught his eye, the pair of them had cracked up again. It had felt good to laugh, and feeling good at that time was something Lindsay wasn't too familiar with.

When she had arrived to work one morning with a tea instead of coffee, the building had been abuzz with pregnancy rumours. Her and Hawkes had taken great amusement in play acting along to these until Mac, a smile on his face, had told them to quit it. None of the work was getting done as the techs where all to busy watching them.

It was now a daily thing for them both. To meet sometime during the day, or night when they where both in work, and discuss the latest news over a pot of fresh coffee and a plate of cakes. Even when there was nothing new to report they would spend the time making bets on what the next one would be and even tried to create some of their own.

"Anyway," she said to Stella, "Since when do I have time to date? Any spare minute I've had over the last couple of months has been spent with you guys. You've had me out shopping, Hawkes has had me help decorate his apartment, Adam has had me at all the local comedy clubs and when I've not been with you guys, Flacks had me over to at his to watch every game that's been televised. God, even Mac had me help out at some of his jazz nights."

At that moment, one certain Detective in question appeared at the door to the locker room and stuck his head inside, careful not to allow his gaze to settle on one CSI in particular. "Hawkes, Monroe - You're up. Two DB's found floating in the Hudson."

Feeling relieved at the summons, Lindsay closed her locker door and tried to sidestep around Stella but found the other woman blocking her path at every turn. "Stella!"

Flack shot a look of confusion over their heads, to Hawkes.

The former Doctor gestured with his head towards the two women as he shrugged his jacket on. "Stella thinks Lindsay saw some action last night."

Flack raised his eyebrows, a smirk on his face. "You holding out on us Linds?"

The look she gave him in return spelled trouble for him later on.

He decided that after last night, he liked the sound of trouble and merely smiled back at her.

"Come on Lindsay," Stella was saying, "All we want to do is know who he is."

"Maybe run some background checks," Flack added, taking a few steps into the room.

"Possibly bump into him down town," Hawkes said, coming to stand by Stella so they where all in close proximity to her.

"Work him over a little." Flack was seriously loving this, she could tell just by looking at him.

"Guys!" Lindsay finally snapped, managing to make her way past Stella and to the door, "For the last time. I did not have sex last night." She paused at the door, turning to look back into the room. Careful to avoid everyone's gaze, she said "I made love, and that is a whole different kettle of fish."