Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of "CSI"NY; they belong to Anthony E Zuiker and CBS

Author's Note: I must say I kind of ignored most of "Nothing for Something" because this wouldn't leave me alone...

Author's Note II: I just flipped through my stories and realized I haven't posted anything new since DECEMBER. Ai yi yi. Hurray for real life!


She slid into the open slot on the roster so easily, it was scary. She was friendly to everyone, and everybody seemed to take to her well. She had a quick wit and a sharp mind. She was just as comfortable sorting through a pile of evidence as she was interrogating a suspect, or sharing fashion tips with Lindsay (or Adam, on one memorable occasion). She was a good detective, a good forensic scientist, and a great mom.

She was almost too good to be true.

And he couldn't figure out why she'd taken such an interest in him. Maybe it was the mother in her, that she felt the need to ask him how his day was going, whether or not he wanted a coffee refill. Or making him go home and go to sleep, going so far as dragging Don into her plot to make him take a break. Maybe it was an angle, although he couldn't figure out for the life of him what that angle might be.

Or maybe….maybe it was something else? He was fooling himself if he didn't admit that there wasn't something between them.

He felt a little guilty. With Stella, it wasn't like it wasn't for lack of trying. Stella must have asked him every other shift if he'd slept at least four hours. He was a workaholic, and she'd known it. As his friend, it was her job to look out for him. And sometimes he'd caught a twenty-minute cat nap in his office, just to appease the Grecian gods. And there had been something about her-her smile, her attitude, her dedication to the job, her admirable persistence in trying to keep Mac Taylor running. And all of those had been attractive qualities.

But…. not even Stella could make him leave the office, go home, and go to sleep.

So what sort of power did Jo Danville have that here he was, staring up at his ceiling, in his bedroom, in his apartment, instead of at the office?