Disclaimer - Not mine.

A/N - Not sure I like this chapter. Let me know what you think.


He tapped the edge of the table in frustration. She wasn't feeling well – he knew that by the pale cast of her face, and her trembling hands. The family depended on her presence. He got up to speak to her, only to see Lucy arrive home. He smiled, happy that the final child was back. The others had arrived home exactly on time. He had been worried that Lucy was in trouble.

The other girls rushed to meet her. He stood, ordering them back into the living room. They well knew that he disliked loud, boisterous behavior. Lucy walked in and dropped her school bag in the allotted place by the door. She slipped off her shoes, and put on her house slippers. The girls hung back as she walked in, afraid of being told off again. Their older sister resolved the issue by walking up to them, and throwing her arms around them. He liked that Lucy had that protective streak.

Stefan hovered, unwilling to throw himself into a hug like his sisters. He was a concern. The boy was not settling in well. He had come home from school early, complaining of a stomach bug. Once again, Lucy allowed the situation to simmer down by throwing her arm round her brother's shoulders. He caught Lucy's brief glance at her mother – and at the television. Rolling his eyes at the transparency of children, he walked over to the TV and switched it on.

"Half an hour." He said sternly.

They gathered round, huddled close together, watching some idiotic kids' cartoon about a yellow sponge. He didn't understand why the radio wasn't good enough. It was all his parents had allowed him. Mind you, he thought, there's a lot of pressure on them to fit in. He nodded to himself. That was it. They needed to relate to their friends. Half an hour of television a day, and no more. He could let them have that.


Danny swore at the evidence under his microscope, as if that would make it transform into something useful. It was a scrap of blue fiber, found caught in the Bellings' garden gate. No more than a quarter inch across, it had been ripped from a much bigger piece of material. Unfortunately, that looked like belonging to the local postal service. Up until the week before, the Bellings family had owned a large dog – a Golden Retriever, called Bob. Their faithful hound, old as it was, had trotted up to the door without fail every morning to bark endlessly at the postman, but never able to get anywhere near him until a month ago. The dog had found the door open, and joyfully raced down the street barking and chasing after him. At the time, Danny had been listening to the story by way of calming poor George Bellings down. Now it seemed that it might be relevant.

Reluctantly, he dialed the number for the local post offices. "Hello?"

"Postal service, how-"

"New York crime lab. I need to speak to a supervisor."

He was passed on quickly, to a woman whose voice sounded strangely familiar. Danny shook the feeling off, and explained the situation to her. She sounded sympathetic.

"Yeah, we'll get that uniform out to you as soon as possible. The guy probably still has the same one. If not – I guess you can use it for samples, huh?"

Feeling surprised that she had made that leap, Danny nodded. He immediately felt foolish. "Uh – yeah."

She chuckled. "No need to sound shocked. I read, young man. Do you want it picked up from here, or delivered to you by hand?"

Before Danny could answer, he was cut off.

"No, wait. Never mind. I know the guy who delivers to that address, and he's just walked in. I'll go ask him now. He can drop it off – I happen to know he's heading into the city later."

With that, Danny was cut off. He blinked, trying to work out how he had turned into a passive observer in that conversation. He shook his head, still mystified. The CSI took another look in the microscope, praying that something significant would have materialized in the two minutes he had spent tracking down the postman's uniform.

"Having fun?"

Danny jumped, cracking his knee against the desk. He swore vehemently, and glared back at Lindsey. She raised two cups of coffee in apology, and offered one to him. He took it, sipping three times before he gestured for her to sit down.

"This case is a nightmare." He said.

"I know. Mac's biting everyone's heads off, Stella's busy with everything other than this, and I don't even want to know how long it's been since Flack slept." Lindsey evaluated Danny. "And you look like total shit."

He raised an eyebrow. "Watch it, Montana."

"Oh shut up."

They sat in companionable silence, enjoying a few moments of relative peace before the inevitable chaos started up again. Lindsey scooted her chair closer to Danny's. He took her hand, trying to make up for being both absent and bad-tempered. She squeezed his fingers gently – Lindsey understood.