Mac and Danny stepped out of the apartment building with their arms full of evidence bags. Danny crossed the busy sidewalk to the SUV when Mac stopped to talk to the building's super. He could see Flack's tall form at the hot dog vendor across the street. Once all his evidence was in the trunk he returned to grab Mac's. As he walked back down the stairs Flack was jogging back across the street, flipping his notebook closed. "What's he say?"

Flack opened his mouth to respond when someone yelled "'SCUSE ME!!"

Mac turned and saw, quite clearly, the collision that was about to happen. "WATCH OUT!!" Clear green eyes flicked up at him in surprise as Flack's attention jerked up to him and Danny swiveled towards him. Too late the girl on the bicycle saw the hole in the cement and her eyes widened in shock as she and the bike were launched into the air. There was flicker of concentration as she wrenched her body around in what looked like a physics-defying move that pushed the wheels down towards the ground, rather than into the air, the rear tire clipping Danny's chest, sending him staggering before bike and rider plowed backwards into Flack's legs. The lanky detective was sprawled on top of the rider, squashing her onto her bike. Mac could have sworn she would have landed if her momentum hadn't carried her into Flack's body.

"Oh shit. I'm sorry are y'all ok?" The girl was staring concernedly between Danny and Flack, who was stunned at finding himself half on top of the cyclist.

"Ya know, I think we're the ones who should be asking you if you're ok. Flack, stop squishing her, you're gonna kill her if you lay there any longer."

"What the hell just happened?" Flack scrambled to get up, offering his hand to the cyclist.

"Well," She carefully untangled herself from the crashed bike and let Flack haul her to her feet. "I hit that nice pot-hole, managed to not land on my face thanks to some mad cool reflexes, but I think I whacked his chest with my tire" she jerked her thumb at Danny "and then proceeded to slam into you. So are you both OK?" The concerned look was back as her eyes flicked between the two.

"I'm fine. I'll prolly have a good bruise, but nothin' too bad." Danny rubbed the black tire mark on his shirt she had pointed to without looking at the point of impact as Mac calmly walked down the stairs. "If I were you, I'd be more worried about your bowling pin here."

Flack glared at Danny, who simply grinned smugly at the detective. "I'm fine. I'm more worried about you, seein' as you're bleedin' on your shirt."

"What?! Where?" She twisted almost comically to see where she was bleeding, before Flack gently grabbed her elbow and pointed at the blood that had smeared onto her green shirt from a small scrape on her forearm. "Damn, I liked this shirt, too."

"I've got a first aid kit in the SUV." She jumped at Mac's gravely voice on her right. "we'll get you patched up and on your way in a few minutes."

She let herself be lead rather bemusedly by the the two men who had firm grips on either arm, while Danny picked her bike up. "But, today's my first day, and I can't be late. And I carry my own first aid stuff."

Danny spoke up. "Doesn't matter how long Mac takes ta fix you up. You're not riding this thing for a while." Green eyes darted over the bike, widening as she saw the busted wheel and the handlebars that had been wrenched out of alignment with the still intact front wheel.

"Ah shit. My new boss is gonna be so pissed. Great first impression Becca, bloody fantastic." A quick glance at her watch and she groaned. "Thirty freaking minutes late. I'm so dead." She leaned against the back bumper of the SUV, not even flinching as Mac cleaned and bandaged her arm.

"I'm sure Flack can give you a ride and explain to your new boss why you're late. It shouldn't be too much of a problem." Mac ignored the glare Don sent to the back of his head.

"Thanks." She was despondent as she stepped over to her bike to grab the bag strapped above the back wheel, swinging the bag onto one shoulder. "And sorry for running you two down."

"Come on, let's get you where you're goin'." Flack guided her towards his car, opening the door for her as she slid in.

"Hey Mac, didn't you say something about a new CSI coming today? What did you say her name was?" Danny gave his boss a curious sidelong look as they climbed into the SUV.

"Rebecca. Rebecca Williams." Mac gave a tiny smile as he started the SUV and they headed back towards the lab.

She sat in silence in the passenger seat of Flack's car, speaking only to give a few directions, until she frowned down at her leg. "I think I scraped my leg too." She quickly pulled the leg of her pants up, letting out a frustrated sigh at the drying blood on her calf. "Great, now I have to change my shirt and my pants." She slumped back against the seat, rubbing her hands against her temples. "Left here."

Flack glanced at Becca, one eyebrow raised as he followed her directions on a familiar path, observing the girl. No. Young woman. She had taken off her helmet after seating herself in the car, combing fingers through short red hair. "So where ya from?"

Becca sat in silence for a moment, briefly glancing at the tall detective as he drove. "Georgia."

Flack's second eyebrow joined the first in a desperate attempt to reach his hairline. "You don't sound like a Southern Gal. Hows that happen?" He affected a cheesy, fake southern accent, and Becca snorted in laughter.

"Don't do that again. You sound like a hick. Trust me, there are plenty of hicks around. Nice folk, generally speaking, but there are plenty of 'em. Anyways. My parents are from Niagra Falls area, and my cousins are all over the place. I got really good at accents really fast." She paused for a moment. "I'm also very adept at understanding regional slang. Soda vs Pop, hey vs hi vs hello, stuff like that. I tend to take on some of the accent of the locals, or whoever I'm talking to."

"That's pretty impressive."

"It's come in handy. Although" Becca grimaced a bit "Some people think I'm trying to insult them when I start adjusting my accent, even though I have very little control over it." She pointed to a building. "There. That's it."

Flack smirked as he found a parking spot along the street, instantly recognizing the building that housed the crime lab. "I'll walk you in and explain what happened to your boss."

"Thanks, but that's really not necessary."

"Hey, it's not a problem. I've got someone in there I need to talk to anyways."

Becca held her hands up in surrender. "Ok, if you insist."

Flack guided her into the building, wondering if Mac and Danny had managed to arrive before them. He had tried to give them a little extra time by driving slower than normal, and he hoped Mac would be sitting in his office when they arrived. Becca dug a slip of paper from her pocket, glancing at it as she hit the button for the elevator. She studied the slip before jamming it back into her pocket, tapping her foot as they waited fore the elevator. It finally arrived and she waited while several people exited before jumping in and pressing the button. Flack followed, baffled by her antics. "You sure you're ok?"

Becca sighed, dropping her head back against the wall. "Yeah, just pissed at myself, and the adrenaline rush is wearing off."

"Hey, don't beat yourself up. I'm sure your boss will understand."

She stared silently at Flack for a minute or two, fidgeting with her helmet. "I guess." She turned away quickly as the elevator stopped and the doors slid open.

Flack followed her out where they were immediately accosted by a whirlwind of anger in the form of Stella. "Don. Where the hell is Mac? He's got paperwork piling up on his desk, Adam is refusing to do any other work until he presents his findings to Mac, Sinclair is all over my ass about a high profile case, our new CSI is late, and he goes racing off to a scene with Danny!"

"Relax, Stella. I left just before he did, so he should be back soon."

Becca had fallen back a step when Stella started ranting. She let out a quiet gasp as she realized that the 'Mac' Stella was asking aboutwas the same 'Mac' who had patched her up, and her new boss. Stella turned to Becca at the noise, her entire demeanor changing in a split second. "Hi, I'm Detective Stella Bonasara, and you would be?"

"Rebecca Williams. I just transferred from Georgia." Becca took Stella's hand and they shook.

"Flack, tell Mac I want to talk to him when he gets here. I'm going to show Rebecca around really quick." She turned and walked back towards the heart of the lab, motioning for Rebecca to follow.

"I'm a homicide detective, not a freaking messenger." Flack's voice followed the two women as they turned a corner. "Great. Thanks, Bonasara, you're really makin' me look bad to my captain for spendin' so much time here." He stood in front of the elevators for a moment, looking back and forth before sighing heavily and following Stella into the lab.

"Five, four, three, two, one. Right on cue, there he is." Stella smirked at Becca, who laughed when Flack appeared around the corner, hands in his pockets.

"Nice. Hey, Flack. You're quite predictable, aren't ya?"

"No."

Both women laughed, and Don looked between them, completely baffled.

"If you're not predictable, how did Stella know that you would come after us?" Becca lifted one eyebrow, challenging.

"I'm not gonna answer that one."

"So, you were going to show me around?"

"Yeah. Flack, get Mac back here, so we can actually get some work done around here."

"Fine, fine. I can see when I'm not wanted. Later, Becca, Stella." Flack turns and strides back down the hall as Stella begins Becca's tour of the lab.

"So, Georgia, huh?"

"Yeah. Actually, I'm originally from North Carolina, but we moved when I was 12. Middle school was the worst three years of my life. It's actually how I ended up being a criminologist. I just kinda threw myself into the sciences, and music. Later, in high school, people quickly learned that they could find me in one of two places; Band room, or one of the chemistry classrooms."

"Wow. Come on, I'll get you set up in a locker, so you don't have to carry all that with you."

"Thanks. Need to change my shirt too. Probably not the best idea to work my first day in a bloody shirt."

Stella lifted one eyebrow, "Oh, we deal with things worse than blood on a daily basis. A little blood is nothing."

"I know, but it's definitely something when it's your own blood."

Stella made a sympathetic face. "That's never good."

"Yeah. So, locker?"

"Right. Come on." Stella motioned for Becca to follow again, and led her to the locker room, chatting away about the lab.

"Hey, Stella, tell me about Mac Taylor. What's he like as a boss?"

Stella looked vaguely surprised, before thinking about the question. "Well, that's a tough question to answer. Here," Stella picked up something from a hidden corner. "Mac set out your locker assignment so it would be ready when you got here." She handed over a lock, but was startled when Becca pulled out her own. "You'll have to write down the code for that."

"I know. I just feel better using my own lock. So which locker is going to be mine?"

Stella looked at the slip of paper that had been with the lock and pointed to the appropriate locker door. "That's your locker."

"Thanks." Becca pulled it open and began to empty her bag into it, setting a clean shirt and pants to the side. "Well, if you would rather not try and describe what Mac Taylor is like as a boss, and I know how hard it is to describe bosses, at least tell me, you mentioned an Adam when you accosted Flack. Who's Adam?"

"Adam is one of the best lab techs we've ever had. He sometimes helps with processing scenes." Becca pulled the bloody shirt over her head, revealing a grey cami, but Stella stopped her before she could pull on her new shirt. "What happened to your arm?"

Becca glanced down at the scar that ran across her upper arm. "Gunshot." She pulled the clean shirt on and before Stella could press for more details grabbed her clean pants. "Where can I change?" Stella silently pointed towards the showers, and Becca moved off. "I'll want to meet this Adam. Sounds like a friend from college."

Stella waited only a moment before Becca reappeared, carrying the dirty pants and dropping them into the locker with the discarded shirt. "If you knew an Adam in college, he's probably not our Adam. Adam is from Phoenix."

Becca chuckled as they left the locker room. "He's sounding more and more like my Adam." At Stella's raised eyebrow she continues. "I went to college in Phoenix. I was a bit rebellious as a teen, and I wanted to get as far from my family as I could. Phoenix just, fit."

Stella nods her understanding as they walk into the AV lab, to find Adam rushing back and forth between machines. "Adam, I'd like you to meet our new CSI."

"Waitwaitwaitwaitwait." He dashes back to one machine and finally sits down, quickly tapping out a few commands on the keyboard. He stares intently at the screen. Suddenly he throws his hands up in the air, spinning around with a "YES!!"

"Adam Ross." Becca speaks up, and Adam twitches, falling out of his chair. "You dolt!" In seconds, she's hauling him to his feet and wrapping the stunned tech into a tight hug. "Why didn't you tell me you were moving to New York? How long have you been here? Why did I have to come to New York to find out?"

Adam pushes her back, stunned, studying her face. "Rebecca? Rebecca Williams? But... When.... Huhwah?" He drops back into the chair, disbelief etched onto his face, slowly being replaced by unconcealed happiness. Becca crouches in front of him, her hands on his knees.

"Gee, I didn't know I could reduce the great Adam Ross to incoherency." At the teasing he seems to wake out of his stupor and lightly punches her shoulder.

"Stel, can we have a minute. We've got a lot of catching up to do." Adam looks pleadingly up at her and she shrugs, baffled, and walks out, closing the door behind her. "When did you get here?"

"'bout a week ago. I've been staying with my cousin until I can find a place." She grabs the only other chair in the room and drags it over so they can sit side by side. "Now, I asked questions first. I want answers."

Adam chuckles, "Some things never change. I've been here since '05. I... I didn't tell anybody I was moving. I just, left." He looks sidelong at her, and sees the mix of wary anger, sadness, and determination that always preceded someone getting pulped.

"That bad?" He nodded, and she silently wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "You know..."

"Yeah, I know. If I called you would have hopped the next flight out and beat him up for me, and then proceded to mother me for the next month and a half until I got fed up with it and shoved you on the next flight out." He rubbed his face with one hand. "It was just easier to pack up and move. I haven't been in anything serious since then."

"I know that wording. There someone you got in mind?"

Adam turned away, burying his face in his hands. He muttered something uninteligible.

"What? What was that? I didn't catch any of that." Becca turned from comforting to teasing in a heartbeat, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

Adam sighed, knowing he would get nowhere soon when she started teasing. "I said it's mostly just crushes. Hard not to crush on people when they're all so damn sexy." A glance at Becca revealed an even wider grin and a definite evil glint in her eyes. He groaned.

"Like Mac the Marine?" The steady blush creeping across his cheeks had her laughing loudly. "Or Don Flack Jr. Homicide Detective." Adam crossed his arms on the table and rested his forhead on his forarms with a groan. "Or Danny Messer, bad-boy on a bike. Or Doctor Hawkes, the intellectual. You'd like that, wouldn't you, someone with a big brain."

"I hate you." He muttered into the table before turning to glare at her. "I forgot how annoying you can be. You and your damn research. And how much research did you do on your new coworkers if you didn't know I was here?"

"You know you love that I know what you like in a guy. And I only had a chance to do some basic research on the CSIs and some of the detectives. What with...." She reached up to unconsciously rub at the scar on her arm, sadness spreading across her face.

"Sorry. I meant to call."

"I know. You always call if you can." Silence fell over the two, as Becca continued to rub her arm. That's how Mac found them, walking in 2 minutes later, leaned against each other in a semi-comfortable silence.

Mac raised one eyebrow and they both jumped up. "Stella said you have something for me?"

Adam nodded, firing up the simulation he had been running when Stella and Becca had found him. "Yeah. I've run it through with all the variables, and the only scenario that comes anywhere remotely close to what we found is if there were 3 attackers in the room." They watched the simulation run it's course, and several objects highlighted at the end. "These were thrown from one person to another," his mouse circled one, "these were left by the first," another object circled, "And this is where the third initially attacked the victim." Another circling. "This simulation shows what it would have taken to do everything they did as quickly as they had."

Mac nodded, "Any idea who these guys are?"

"Not yet, DNA is still running, but here are the results for the prints you lifted." Adam handed over a folder that had been sitting on the desk.

"Page me when DNA comes back." Adam nodded, and Mac turned to Becca, who was starting to shift from foot to foot awkwardly. "Welcome to New York, Miss Williams."

"Sorry about earlier."

"It's not a problem. Just don't let it happen again."

"Don't worry, I have no plans on a repeat performance." Adam looked curiously at them. "I kinda, ran into Danny and Flack on my bike on my way in." Becca scowled as Adam grinned at her. "Don't."

"Well, thats what, your fifth bike? You did ruin it, right? Because otherwise, you would have found some way to bring it up here."

"Ninth. But who's counting!?" Mac cleared his throat, and they jumped. "Sorry."

"Rebecca, if you would come with me, there's some paperwork I need you to fill out."

She followed Mac up to his office, admiring the view of the labs it provided as Mac sat down and pushed a small stack of papers towards her. "Please call me Becca. Rebecca is just, too much." She pulled a pen from a pocket and begain filling out the papers, flipping through quickly to read through. "It's like Elizabeth, or Margaret. I don't think I know anyone with either of those names who uses the full name." She fell silent, and the only sound in the room was the rustle of paper and the scratching of the pen. "Alright. Done. Now what?"

Mac took the pages from her and set them neatly on the top of his desk. "Now, this is your badge." he pulled the object out of a drawer, setting it on the desk in front of her. "Memorize the number. Being an NYPD Detective is an honor, don't misuse the power this grants you. Within the next few weeks you'll have to take a firearms exam, and any training they may tell you to take. Until you are issued a gun, you will process scenes with another CSI, most likely Stella or myself, in order for us to get an understanding of your abilities. For today, I'd like you to help Stella on her case. She's in trace, now." He pointed and Becca swiveled to spot the curly-haired woman in one of the rooms. "You'll meet more of the other CSI's later today." He nods in dismissal.

Becca grasps the golden badge, clipping it carefully to her belt. "Thank you, sir." She stands and heads to the door.

"Don't"

"Don't what?"

"Call me sir." He smiles slightly, remembering when Lindsay had used the same term.

"Sorry. Old habits die hard." Mac's eyebrows lift in curiosity. "Marching band. Everything is 'yes sir' 'no sir' 'I don't know sir.' After awhile it gets ingrained into any response to an authority figure." She chuckles. "Five years out and I'm still doing it." Before he can respond she turns and leaves his office. He watches her traverse the maze of labs, wandering into a couple before she manages to make her way into the trace lab.