Disclaimer: In no way, shape or form do i own CSI:NY. The rightful writers and production company own this wonderful show and all its characters.

Quarter To Three

Chapter Two: Fifteen Minutes

"Hi. May I come in?"

She saw him turn his head slightly to his right to see her standing by the entrance of his doorway. He let out an exhausted breath, which did not go unnoticed by her. In barely an audible whisper, he answered with a simple, "Yeah"

She barely heard him but decided to take a seat to the right of him on the red leather couch anyway. She automatically sensed the tension that was boiling inside of him. She wanted to take him by the shoulders and give them a squeeze to relieve the stress or give him a simple back rub but she knew that would indicate a more than friendly gesture. "How are you?" She asked softly but then quickly realized that her imposed question was a rather ignorant one. She wanted to take the question back but knew it was already too late and decided to let him answer how he wanted to.

"I don't know." He answered softly as he continued to look straight ahead. "Jo…." he began again but a slight pause followed as if he was refused of oxygen. She heard him inhale a long draw of air, held it in and then heard him swallowing hard. The way he said her name sent a shock of unexplainable pain through her body and she wanted to hold him, even if it was only just for a second until the circumstance would force them apart. But, instead, she continued to look at the side of his face until he unexpectedly turned to look directly into her eyes. She felt her breath hitch in her throat and she too, lacked oxygen. His pupils twitched slightly and in a soft whisper he said, "I love….

With the moment of a slight pause that he left after those two words, she could feel her entire supply of blood rush towards her vital organ and then pumped out as it if was foreign and unwanted. Even though she was sitting, she felt as if she was about to collapse so she gripped onto her knee for support. Who did he love? Love, a word that rang strangely in her ears, especially coming from a man like him. She heard him draw in another breath as he murmured, "I love Christine and I can't get the image of…."

Then he quickly looked away again which caused another sharp stab of pain in the pit of her stomach, which ran up her veins and pulsated through the rest of her body. She wanted him to look at her so he could see the emotions in her eyes, the empathy, sympathy and her suppressed tenderness towards him. "Oh, Mac…" she breathed. She thought about placing her hand on his to give him some understanding comfort but quickly retracted the thought.

"Nothing means more to me than her." He said softly and honestly. She watched him take his index finger and his thumb to the bridge of his nose as he gave it a slight pinch. Then he brought his hands together, folded them and rested his elbows on his lap as he leaned forward. He continued to stare straight ahead with corrugated brows and a frown of hurt, worry and fear.

The silence tore between them, as she took no more than three seconds to look at him, to study him, to analyze him. On the phone, she could hear the fear in his voice but now, she was sitting no more than two inches away from him and she could see and feel his fear. He truly illustrated man's greatest cause of uneasiness, panic, distress and anxiety – fear of the unknown. Fear of an unanswered question. Fear of uncertainty. That scared the hell out of him and she very well knew it.

"We won't sleep until she's found." She said quietly and reassuringly. She cringed at her words and wished she could take them back as she was making a promise that she didn't know if she could fulfill. But, for a second, she thought long and hard. She was doing it for him and she would make it an obligation, like her own unsigned contract, to fulfill her promise.

Then without even thinking, she took her hand and placed it on top of his knuckles and gave it a firm squeeze. Upon realizing what she had just done, she had no time to retract but was glad as hell she did it. The gesture was to give him comfort but it appeared as if she gained more of the pleasure than he did. She smiled lightly at him and said her vow, "Mark my word"

An hour before, she watched him through the two-way glass as he interrogated Zane Kalim. She had no other way to put but she had to deem him as 'violent' but she knew he had a reason behind his actions. He was desperate for answers, desperate for her safety, her protection and most definitely, desperately to hold her in his arms again. And in that moment of his anguished distress, she saw him pull Kalim's arm back behind the chair as he glared down at him with eyes of burning anger. She presumed that he was squeezing his wounded arm, effectively demonstrating his anger and his willingness to do anything to get the woman he loves back. She couldn't remember if she felt more sympathetic for him or more jealous of her but either way, there was still some unbearable pain that scarred her smile.

And now, it was time. With her hands holding onto a pen and unconsciously clicking it with her thumbs, she looked into his office through the glass walls of lab. She watched him reach to the center of his desk to grab his phone as it rang. Fifteen minutes until the designated call time. Two forty-five.

"Fifteen minutes 'til the call" She said to the tall, white haired man who stood on the opposite side of Adam with his arms folded across his chest. She saw that he was watching Mac attentively through the glass and he let out a sigh.

"This is a lot for anyone to handle, even Mac." He murmured honestly as he quickly looked at her through the corner of his black framed glasses.

She paused for a moment and nodded in agreement as she replied, "Puts a burden of the case on his shoulders even if it's a stranger… now it's Christine" She said softly and looked away quickly. Seeing him like this, as if he was a part of some antic disposition, made her stomach churn, engulfing it in sour uneasiness. She expresses quietly, "It makes me worry. He's not going to stop until he finds them."

"Mac's lucky to have you. " She smiles lightly upon hearing his words. For a moment, she felt proud of herself and proud that she could support Mac, her friend. But that moment almost instantaneously withered away as she heard, "all of you."

She cocks up her eyebrow, pressed her lips together and nodded slightly. Those words sunk deep into her, piercing her like some sort of intangible knife, stinging her like salt to a wound. She stands still as she continues to look into his office and she could do nothing but nod at his words accompanied by a faint smile.

"Excuse me." D.B excuses himself as he exits the room. She eyes his leaving through the glass and assumes that he is following Mac, something she was urged to do as well. She was honestly contemplating on following D.B, asking him if she could join. But, something in her gut pulled her back to the night in October and his words began to replay in her head.

And within a few minutes of his departure, Danny walks into to accompany her and Adam with a beige colour file in his hand. In his native New York accent he states, "DNA came back on a tongue. It belongs to a male."

"Oh thank god" She said as she released her unconscious hold of her breath. She couldn't decide whether she truly thanked the good Lord for such news or if she said it to mask her false relief. Her thoughts were automatically interrupted as she heard the phone ring. She stared at it, contemplating whether she should take the call. With its second ring, she looked into his office. Empty.

"Where the hell is Mac?" Danny questions upon realizing that his boss was missing.

"What do you wanna do?" Adam asked. She looked at the blond haired man through the corner of her eye as he spoke and she wanted to chuckle, giggle or let out some sort of amusement. She found it solemnly funny that people looked up to her for advice. Jo, what should we do now? Jo, what do you think of this? Mom, which one? Ms. Danville, how would you go about this? Detective Danville, what's the next step? Who did she have to turn to? She was a figure and she couldn't really understand why. She thought, how can a cup that's half empty be looked at as a cup that's half full?

The trill of the phone quickly pulled her out of her thoughts and her eye quickly darted back to it. She extended her hands outwards before the third ring and his October words crashed through her head again. Her hand retracted slightly and she bit on her bottom lip. She thought hard of the consequences of her anticipated actions and decided quickly, "I'm taking it."

"This is Detective Jo Danville. Whom am I speaking with?" She asked with a shaky but confident voice. She used her voice of interrogation, the voice of stern and firm sincerity, warning the caller of her determination. Some muffled, disguised voice spat out instructions to her that made her heart pound. She picked up the call; she placed the burden of her safety on her shoulders. She swallowed heart and she asked, "Where are Christine and Shawn?"

"Fifteen minutes."

The time limit rang through her head like some sickening cry and it nearly broke her. Her mind was running at a thousand miles per second. She felt slightly dizzy as she thought of his devastation if she were to not fulfill her duty. In a shaky voice that was unnaturally an octave higher she whispered, "Hello?"

She walked carefully down the corridor of the precinct, trying to wrap her head around the events of tonight. Exhaustion was smothered across her face and it engulfed every muscle of her tense body. Adrenaline had rushed through her so many times today that it nearly drained every ounce of energy left in her system. To say the least, she was put through hell – a living hell that nobody knew of.

"Oh Mac." She said softly as he breathed out his name. His name, all of its syllables, felt so good coming from her lips and she it was an internal cry to the heavens for it to be the last name on her lips. She put her arms around his neck to give him comfort but in a way, for a moment, she was putting the weight of her world on him for a temporarily feeling of support. She felt his hand gently pulling her in to reciprocate the embrace. His name was still chiseled on her lips but she forced herself to say her name to break the slight awkwardness. She gratefully said, "Thank God we got Christine back"

She asked him how she was and he replied with a statement of her condition and her whereabouts. In her honest heart, she couldn't find enough blood to pump out any feeling of concern. She ridiculed herself for it and knew it was wrong to feel such a thing.

"I'm sorry I kept you in the dark. If there was any other way…." He began to apologize. His apology was rather foreign as Mac was not much of a man to say, 'sorry'.

"I know." She interrupted his sentence. It was a thing about trust and how foreign it was in their relationship. She honestly had trusted and will trust him with all of her being. But, for the three years of her working with him, he had yet to allow her to carry some of his burden. She would willingly open her arms to help him but he would shut her out, acting as if he was Atlas who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Oh one more thing. The guy you arrested. He told this wild story about you playing this game of Russian roulette. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

"It's not much of a game when the gun's empty." He said with the slightest of a grin smeared across his exhausted face.

She smiled at him softly as an indication of; 'goodnight' and she turned the other way to walk out of the precinct. She imagined the scenario in her head. A part of her was in utter shock that he would pull something rogue like he did, as it was a tad out of character for him. But, the other part of her understood her actions as it all came back to the single soul he was saving. Then again, she felt a selfish feeling of pity for herself as she has never been the object of fear.

"Hey, Jo." He said quickly and she turned on her heel upon hearing his voice call her name. His voice was music to her ears; melodious with an undertone of husky, low octave harmony. She could usually derive his feelings and intentions from the start of the conversation but this time she was left in a haze.

"Yeah." She answered softly and took a few steps towards him and he did the same. She looked directly into him and for a second, she felt her knees buckle slightly.

"Thank you."

There was a moment of silence that stretched between them but she continued to look into his eyes. They were glistening with joy and gratitude and she could do nothing but smile. She leaned back slightly on the desk behind her and rested her bottom on its edge. She took a deep breath and composed her words carefully. "I know how much she means to you. It's our job to follow the science and I'm…." she paused for moment as she wanted to find the appropriate word to say next. Her eyes darted away but quickly darted back to him. With a slight nod of her head she said, "… relieved we found her in time."

He found a space on the edge of the desk, leaned against it beside her and his eyes were fixated on the tiled floor. He let out a breath and she could tell that he was thinking of telling her what was on his mind but something, she didn't know what, was causing him to hesitate. "Mac, what's on your mind?" she asked sincerely. She saw how he was on the brink of telling her but pulled back again. With her most urging but soft voice she said, "It's only me, Mac."

"There was a moment today where I went back to that dark place. The same dark place I fell into after Claire, where I felt completely useless because I couldn't do anything to stop it from happening." He said wholeheartedly without looking at her. She was rather surprised that he told her what he did as he previously clearly emphasized the bold line between his personal and professional life. Through his voice, she heard the tension that was gripping at him and her darn empathetic heart started to mirror it. His words altered her body's equilibrium as she felt her blood rush down to her knees and back up to her throat, hitching a tight pocket of air there.

"Mac, she's here, she's back. You've got her and she's lucky as hell to have you." She told him with brutal honesty. When someone is brought back into the light, the ones who are still in the dark are often left forgotten. She blinks in irony; it's funny how everyone thinks that Christine is the broken one but really, she's the one who needed saving.

"I really appreciate it, Jo."

Leaning forwards to get up from the desk, she smiled at him softly as a silent gesture of 'you're welcome' or 'don't mention it'. A smile, humanity's two faced fool, was her greatest accessory. She began to walk backwards towards the exit as she lifted her hand to wave at him. She wanted to articulate something clever to say but lacked of the words. Instead she said softly, "Goodnight, Mac."

Stepping into the cold winter night, she shivered slightly as the frosty breeze caressed her neck and down her spine. It was quarter to three when he got the call, quarter to three when the world stood still for her, quarter to three when the timer had begun. In one hundred of the nine hundred second time limit, she saw what true love was.

She places one foot in front of the other, down the same path, the same concrete blocks that lead to the same destination. Home, she was heading homeward – the only place where she was guaranteed shelter and warmth. She wanted for him to acknowledge her like he used to and maybe, just maybe, one day she would be able to feel his touch, to feel his warmth, to feel what it would be like under his shelter. She let out a quick sigh into the wool of her scarf – a withdrawal of breath that provides only temporary relief. And with the next intake of the chilly air, the reality comes crashing back into her system again. Sometimes she feels like everyone in the world is living… and she's just watching it all happen.

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A/N: Sincerely hoped that you enjoyed this chapter! I was listening to Rihanna's song, "Stay" in which was kind of the inspiration for this chapter!

I was really thinking about it. Each chapter of this short story can stand-alone as it's own one shot but you can see it as one continuous story or three separate one-shots! The next chapter will be up very soon! You will see what I mean!

I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors you might come across. Sometimes those pesky things just fly right above my head, over the hairspray! As always, please leave a review to tell me what you think!