Me and the muse decided we had so much fun writing "everybody knows" we thought we would try our hand at another 1st person piece. Huge thanks to Twinkeyrocks for the excited reponse ya gave me :) I wub ya hun :)

Hope you enjoy, and R&R? :)

Tell me where does it hurt,

Where is the pain?

You know if I could, I'd make it go away.

It's not the end of the world – on heaven or earth

Can I make it better? Where does it hurt?

- The Warren Brothers.

--

--

Sighing heavily, I fasten my coat tightly, as I brave the fierce New York winds. I remember her telling me about her Montanan rain walks over a cup of coffee we had once briefly shared in the break room. It intrigued me – she really did have so many layers a New Yorker didn't.

I take a sharp intake of breath as a gust of wind takes my breath away slightly. This weather is no place for a girl, alone. This weather is no place for anyone. Although, from how she was earlier, I'm pretty sure it's a good representative of how she's feeling. Confused, like the wind – getting pulled in every direction; the rain, representing her tears.

I made a quick and quiet get away from the lab, while everyone was worrying about her. Not understanding the fuss, I simply grabbed my coat, and headed for the door. Initiative, that's all they needed.

I turn into Central Park's gate, and take a deep breath. I clear my throat, and she glances up briefly, before wiping her tears away and turning her attention back towards the ground.

Shaking my head, I walk towards her, and settle down on the bench next to her.

"So, you decided to take a rain walk?" I say, trying to break the ice.

"I guess so" she says to me, her tone of voice short and sharp.

Taking the hint, I sit back slightly on the bench.

"They're worried about you"

"Oh" she said simply

"They didn't know where you had gone, you just left."

She nodded and let out a tiny sob

"Come on sweetie, what's the matter" I ask, rubbing her arm lightly, noticing how soaked her coat really is.

"Nothin'" she sniffed

"I have a teenager and a long line of ex wives – "nothin'" doesn't work anymore –I know better" I smile lightly.

"I underestimate you sometimes" she half smiled, wiping her tears away.

"Come on love," I sigh, wrapping my arm around her "Let's get you warmed up"

--

--

I set a cup of tea down opposite her, and pass her a napkin to dry her face off. I wish I had something better to give her, but with the late hour, and the mainstream department stores closed, a napkin in a cafe is the best I have.

"I suppose I owe you an explanation" she said, sadly into her cup of tea.

"You don't owe me anything, however – if you want to talk, I'm more than happy to listen" I say hopefully

"I don't think I know where to start" she said after a few minutes.

"Alright then love, no worries. We can talk about something else, whatever takes you're fancy" I say, trying to make her feel in the slightest bit better.

"Could we talk about you?" she asks,

"What would you like to know?"

"What made you go from a successful chef, to a ME?"

"My 3rd wife – she couldn't understand why I decided to waste a degree in pathology in a kitchen. Plus, a chef's salary didn't give her the freedom to go and buy Jimmy Choos on a daily basis, not that a ME one did, but you get the idea."

She giggled – it was music to my ears. After noticing my slightly amused look, she stops laughing and takes a sip of her tea. "I'm sorry," she starts "I just can't see you with a chef's hat"

"You're not the 1st person that has said that, I remember one time, my 2nd wife told me she could rip – I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want me to go into that,"

"Probably not" she smiled warmly at me.

"It'll hurt for a while, you know." I say, while pouring milk into my coffee. "But, in time, you'll be alright."

Just as quickly as it appeared, the smile disappeared.

"I knew he had" she started, eyes avoiding all eye contact with mine. "Just him saying it, made it real"

"You're a smart girl, Lindsay"

"I tried to be there for him, I did. I wanted to be there. I know myself I'm not good at it, not good emotionally in supporting someone else while they're grieving, but honestly – I was trying. I was learning – he just – I – he just – he didn't want me there, he pushed me out."

For a second, I thought she was going to let fresh tears fall. But, she proved me wrong, and regained her composure.

"I was stupid, getting involved with a co-worker"

"No" I say firmly, "You weren't stupid. Don't ever regret something that once made you happy, Lindsay"

"He still makes me happy though, Sid"

"I can see that"

"That obvious?" she smiles, on the surface, it looks like a genuine smile, however underneath the cracks; I can see that she is hurting.

"Afraid so," I smile. "You'll find a way Lindsay – you're strong. If you want this enough, you'll find that there's no easy way out, everything will fall into place– just don't give up."

She takes another sip of her tea, and holds it close, cradling it in her hands.

"What can I do?" she asks me, desperation in her eyes.

"What would you like to do?"

"Forget" she said simply. "I just want to forget what he did."

I sigh, "Well then, forget"

"I wish it was that easy"

"Do you remember what I said to you, when you asked me whether I thought Danny called you Montana, because you were simply a 49-er's fan?"

"You told me he called me it because he had a crush on me" she sighed.

"And when I said that, what did you think?"

"Nothing, I couldn't. I worked with him."

"But..."

"But, after time – you know what Sid, it doesn't even matter anymore."

"If it matters to you Lindsay, then it matters."

Setting her cup down, she smiles, and takes my hands. "Thank you, Sid."

Her gesture warms me up, more than what this coffee sitting in front of me has done. "You needed a friend," I say simply.

It's true, she needed a friend. "Although, I'm sure you envisioned having this talk with someone like Stella or Sheldon" I add.

She lets out a small chuckle, which again, warms my heart "Actually, after it had sunk in, I debated whether or not I should just go down into autopsy,"

"It would have been warmer" I smile, watching the amused look take over her face.

"Sid, it's freezing down there"

"Okay, smarty pants. It's dry"

"I'll give you that." She smiles, reaching into her purse to pay for the drinks.

"No!" I say, touching her hand. "These are on me,"

She smiled downwardly, into her cup, before looking me straight in the eyes.

"I'm gonna have to talk to him, aren't I?" she sighs

"Afraid so, Montana" I say, hoping I haven't pushed it too far with adding Montana.

"I've missed that, the nickname. Reminds me of simpler times" she sighed, offering her hand, helping me up.

"You ready to go back?" I ask, accepting her hand.

"Yeah, I'm gonna have to explain to them why I took off without saying goodbye when my shift ended"

"And you're gonna have to speak to Danny" I remind her as we head for the exit.

"And, I'm gonna have to speak to Danny" she nods.

I touch her shoulder before she pushes the door to the cafe open. "Remember Lindsay, you're strong. I know he's hurt you, but don't hurt yourself by staying mad at him forever. You can forgive him. Forgiveness doesn't show weakness"

"It shows your strength" she smiles

I smile, and give her a hug, "We better get going. Otherwise, they'll be sending a search party out for me"

She looks at me, with cocked eyebrows and a crooked grin "Sid, did they know you had even gone?"

"No" I say sadly. "But I can dream, correct?"

"Definitely," she smiles, pushing through the doors onto the New York street.

I see him before she does. She nearly tumbles into him, as she trips out of the coffee shop.

"Montana" he half shouts, as he catches her.

Straightening herself up, she accepts the arm I'm holding out to steady herself. She turns to him, seriousness displayed across her face.

"What are you doing here?"

"Lindsay, we need to talk. No more running away - You and me."

She looks at me, eyes wide, with panic. I turn, and hold the coffee shop door open. My eyes telling her that it is now or never.

"I'll let them know where you are." I say, as he takes the door from me, and leads her into the coffee shop.

I watch them as they both sit down in a booth, and he takes her hands. I see a tear escape her eyes. She glances over at me. He wipes the single tear away, and she looks back to him.

I see her take a deep breath – she isn't looking at me anymore. Pulling on my hat that I had in my pocket, I re-zip my coat up, and make the short walk back to the crime lab.

They will be okay. All it takes is a little nudge in the right direction. All in a day's work.