SPOILERS: series through episode 4.16, "Right Next Door."

THANK YOUS: I've had a lot of loyalty so far, and it's awesome. I'd like to thank Mauveine, ImaSupernaturalCSI, iluvcsi4ever, daytime drama, shadoo, lilymoonlight, and BlueShadowdancer for their reviews last time round. Writing this story is both fun and challenging, and I've tried to keep it very close to the spirit of the show. The encouragement I've gotten so far has definitely helped me to keep going. I hope you guys enjoy this latest chapter!

DISMANTLE.REPAIR

Chapter.Four

The A/V lab's numerous screens had all been dedicated to the blown-up image of a signature. Adam Ross stepped into his domain and glanced around with wide eyes. This definitely was not the way he'd left it. And then he turned and saw Stella entering the room again with a fresh bottle of water and a look of determination. She glanced at him and noticed the tightness around his eyes and mouth, the slight pallor of his face, and wondered if Mac should have just pulled him off the case anyway.

"This is supposedly Lee Hamilton's signature, from the order form that confirmed the delivery of the Euthasol," she explained. "I'm comparing it to a genuine sample of Hamilton's signature, to determine forgery."

Adam nodded. He'd never been good at graphology, but Stella had a knack for it. "Any idea about who might have faked the signature?"

Stella shook her head. "His secretary confessed to having done it before, but I've already compared her attempt against the question document. No match. I recruited Aspen to run the prints we lifted from the document through AFIS."

He nodded and sat down. She watched him for a long moment. She'd been an excellent judge of people from a young age -- an absolute necessity when growing up an orphan at the mercy of the system -- and she could tell that Adam was shutting down. He probably didn't want to talk about it, but she was concerned, and not just as his boss. Following the loss of her apartment, Adam had reached out and shown her compassion. As his friend, she felt compelled to do the same.

"What's up, Adam?"

"Hm?" He looked up. Then he shook himself. "Oh, right. I confirmed that the sample of sodium pentobarbital that Danny collected and the sodium pentobarbital found in Jimmy Hamilton's blood match. The chemical fingerprint was identical, so it definitely came from Lee Hamilton's shipment. And I'd be happy to run your handwriting samples through FISH for you -- that's the Forensic Information System for Handwriting. It's pretty cool, it's maintained by the Secret Service, and mostly it's used in those big money cases, ya know, like--"

"Adam." Stella touched his shoulder. "I meant, what's up with you?"

He shrugged. "Mac wants to take me off the case."

"I know. But that's for you, Adam. He wants to make sure that you're okay."

Adam shot out of his chair, suddenly all uncontained energy. "Look, just because my father used to beat me doesn't mean that I can't do my job, and I'm working on who might know how to maintain ball-joint dolls, and--!"

A knock at the open door caused both Stella and Adam to turn. Standing in the doorway was Aspen, a file clutched in her hand. She looked stunned, but she quickly composed her features. She walked over to Stella and passed over the papers. Her eyes swept over Adam's drawn features, and he searched her expression in return. He didn't want anyone's pity. He'd spent most of his life proving himself and he certainly didn't need the sympathy of a stranger. But there was none. He couldn't tell what she was thinking, and before he could get a better read on her, she'd turned back to Stella.

"The prints on the document didn't come back to anyone in AFIS. So I did a few manual comparisons from the elimination prints we took from the Hamiltons and the staff at the veterinary office, and I got a match." Aspen looked grave. "The prints match Jessamyn Hamilton."

Stella's eyes widened. "Are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes. I checked twice, and then I had Danny and Kendall double check, as well."

"So…" Feeling a little more like himself, Adam narrowed his eyes in thought. "So, you're saying that Jessamyn Hamilton handled the order form. And if that's true, then…"

Stella turned back to the blown-ups of the signature. "Then she might be the one who signed for the sodium pentobarbital. I've got to get a sample signature from her."

"You think the mom did it?" Adam asked. Stella shook her head.

"I don't know what to think. But you know what Mac always says…everything is connected."

--

Danny stared at the results from the chemical analysis he'd run on the sodium pentobarbital. Adam had already left to spread the word about the results, but Danny stayed put in his chair. He looked down at his knuckles and sighed. Don Flack, who had been his friend since he'd started work at the labs, was hardly able to look at him. He was out of control, and a small part of him knew it. The larger part rebelled. He hadn't meant for things with Lindsay to get so serious. He'd purposefully avoided defining their relationship. He liked to leave himself an escape route, it was just standard operating procedure as far as he was concerned. He didn't want to get hurt. He didn't want to hurt anybody.

You are a bastard. He shook his head. And Lindsay's not going to forgive you for it.

He couldn't help but still feel a little stunned. He hadn't been expecting her to go and tell him she was in love with him. Even now, a week after she'd told him, it hit him like a fist in the solar plexus. Love. When had it gotten that serious? She had been so much fun when she'd started at the labs, and their beginning had been such a whirlwind that sometimes he still felt like he was catching his breath. But love? Love?

You are the biggest bastard that ever lived. He dragged himself out of his chair. He thought of Lindsay, of her enthusiasm for life and for the job, her love of new things and her devotion to the people she cared about. And he thought of Rikki, who looked up at him with big, heartbroken eyes, and how that made him want to beg her for absolution.

Just the guy she smiles at in the hall. Makes jokes with at the mailboxes, he reminded himself. That's all you were -- maybe all you are -- to Rikki. But Lindsay…

He was sick of his own internal dialogue. He slammed out of Trace and headed toward the elevator, determined to get some air.

And he ran right smack into Mac. Who was probably the last person he wanted to see right now. His boss stared at him for a moment, then jerked his finger toward his office. Danny heaved out a breath as Mac led the way.

Busted. Again.

Mac motioned for him to sit and Danny did so, wondering why he felt like he was a child again, and about to get disciplined by his father. Mac didn't look pleased, and Danny braced himself.

"I want you to tell me what's been going on with you lately." It was not a question. Danny had to fight the urge to squirm.

"C'mon, Mac, it's just been a hard couple months."

"Danny." Mac had drill instructor bearing in his posture, and his gaze didn't waver. He wasn't going to let the younger detective leave here without some concrete answers. Sitting across from him, Danny wondered how every killer didn't just crack and confess all. Mac Taylor was a force to be reckoned with…he'd always been. And when he wanted something, he usually got it. Including information.

"Things with Lindsay…they're not so good right now."

He nodded. "How've you been dealing with Ruben Sandoval's death?"

Danny hesitated. He couldn't bring himself to tell his boss, with such a strong moral compass, that he'd been sleeping with Ruben's mother. But if he didn't, Mac would probably find out anyway, and that would probably be worse, and he glanced down at his bruised knuckles again.

"Not well," he admitted.

"Don't make me force you into vacation time, Danny. I don't want to do it, and in the midst of this Hamilton case, I can't really afford to. I think you should take the rest of the day and sort things out."

Danny opened his mouth to protest, but Mac lifted a hand.

"Come back in here with a plan for how you're going to get everything back under control." His tone wasn't too forgiving, but Danny knew better: Mac hadn't been kidding about forcing him into vacation, and this was an unexpected reprieve. "And sort things out with Lindsay."

Danny winced at the last, but nodded. Mac was usually a little tough on him, but Danny usually ended up thanking him for it. He lifted himself from the chair and nodded. Without another word, he trailed out of the office and toward the locker rooms. Mac watched him go, then got up and headed to Stella's office, where she was waiting to update him.

--

Flack was glad that Jessamyn Hamilton wasn't home. He'd managed to get a warrant pretty fast, considering the circumstances, but he was in no mood to deal with the woman. He headed into the nursery and took a moment to look around, stepping closer to the shelves. He could hear Angell in the living room, poking through bookshelves. He wasn't hopeful that they'd find much, but it was one of those necessary functions that would strengthen their case -- should they have one -- when the time came to go to court.

"Anything?" he called over his shoulder.

"Not yet," was Angell's reply. She wandered after him into the nursery. "What're we looking for?"

Flack's smile was capricious. "Mac didn't say exactly. He just said we'd know it when we saw it, if it were here to be seen."

Angell lifted her eyebrows. "Helpful."

"That's Mac."

He was trying to ignore the fact that she looked very beautiful today. But then, she looked beautiful every time he saw her, and it was getting more and more distracting as time went on. Angell seemed to sense a growing discomfort and turned her eyes away, running them over the room instead of the detective.

"So…they really think the mom might have done it?"

"I dunno. The doc didn't seem to think she was capable, but Mac told me to get a warrant and follow the evidence. So here we are." Flack shrugged. "Kinda hard for me to imagine a mother being detached enough to do what was done to that little boy. But there are some real sick people in the world."

They searched through the room systematically before moving into the master bedroom -- and Angell made an interesting discovery.

"I don't think they were sharing this room anymore. There's no evidence of Lee spending significant time in this room," she said. Flack looked closer and saw what she was talking about. There were books about design and there were magazines about home decorating and fashion. A couple of romance novels. Pink slippers and a woman's bathrobe. But nothing else. No Clancy novels ( because honestly, what guy didn't read Clancy? ), no veterinary journals, nothing to indicate the husband.

"Hm. Funny they didn't mention that before."

"Especially after just having a baby," Angell agreed.

Flack wandered around, digging into the closet while Angell went through the dresser. They found nothing of particular interest, and Flack felt himself starting to get a little frustrated. This whole damn case made him mad. He didn't like to think that some ten-year-old kid could be murdered and the people who did it could just get away with it. He'd been a ten-year-old kid in the city once -- it wasn't a safe place to grow up anyway. He shook his head.

"No luck on my end."

"No me, either." He turned and Angell was right behind him, and a different sort of frustration overwhelmed him. He could never just be smooth with her. It always came out…well, goofy. And here she was, two feet away from him, and he was pretty sure he was staring at her mouth when he meant to be looking at her eyes, and he really didn't want to come across as a total asshole, so he just looked somewhere else.

"Let's check that closet we saw in the hall. Then we'll just have to tell Mac that there was nothing," he muttered, feeling awkward and tall and rather like he was made entirely of elbows."

She followed him to it, pressing close as he opened the door so she could see, although to see over his shoulder meant standing on her tiptoes. It was full of boxes. Flack made a noise in his throat -- half frustration, half curiosity -- and pulled one down. He passed it over to Angell, then pulled down another one. He was opening it when Angell's hand touched his arm. He glanced up and she was looking at him, and her usual confidence was gone.

"Flack, listen. Did you maybe want to…I dunno…I mean, when our shift is over and--"

Flack closed his eyes and hated himself for cutting her off, because he absolutely did want to do whatever it was she was about to suggest ( so long as it didn't have anything to do with heights ), but he'd caught a glimpse of what was in the box in his hands and he had to.

"Angell. Call Mac." He lifted a bone saw from his box. "I think he's gonna wanna know about this."

Crestfallen, Angell nodded and turned from him. Flack caught her wrist as she did, and she glanced back.

"And hey. Beer after work?"

She paused. Then she smiled. "Alright, Jr., but you're buying."

Flack grinned and shook his head. "Only if you stop calling me Jr. I don't mind ya calling me Don, but that Jr. crap has got to stop."

She didn't make any promises, he noticed, but she did seem to be very much relieved when she stepped away to call Mac. And Flack thought maybe his game wasn't so bad, after all.

--

Hawkes touched Lindsay's shoulder as he passed her. She looked up and he could tell she didn't have her heart in her work today. A pang went through him. He'd had a soft spot for her. He'd been at the tail end of his rookie days as a CSI when she had just been starting hers, and he could sympathize with her on all the nasty jobs, the bad jokes, and the general sense of needing to catch up that had come along with being the newest member of Mac's team. Seeing her in pain effected him, and he gave her a gentle smile.

"Hey," she said. "Heading out?"

"Mac and I are heading over to the Hamiltons to bag and analyze some evidence Flack found. Sounds like medical tools -- the kind that might have been used on Jimmy's body."

Lindsay shivered. Hawkes was trying to be gentle -- as a former ME, the horror of what had been done to Jimmy wasn't lessened, but he could make it technical in a way that Lindsay couldn't. It was his first line of defense, and he was thankful for it.

"Good luck," she said.

"Thank you." He caught her shoulders in his hands and turned her to look him in the eye. "Lindsay."

She made herself meet his gaze.

"You'll get through this. And we need you. This is a tough case, and the kid…he deserves answers."

She seemed to take strength in that. She managed to smile and nod. "You're right."

Hawkes smiled back at her and let her go. He was protective of the team. His own family he rarely saw -- a falling out when he'd left the hospital had exposed deeper feelings of resentment and bitterness in some of his relations, and so he hadn't spoken to them much. To compensate, he made the members of his team his family, and each victim he took personally. He knew there was a danger in thinking that way, but it helped him in his determination to get the job done, to solve the case and serve justice. And he knew that Lindsay was no less passionate, even when she was dealing with something rocky in her personal life.

"I heard Mac sent Danny home early. Maybe now is a good time to talk to him," he suggested, hoping he wasn't overstepping his boundaries. But Lindsay looked relieved.

"I should just get it over with," she said. Hawkes didn't agree out loud, but he did agree. Not only would it be better for her personally, but it would allow her to put her full focus into her work, and save her from one of Mac's tongue-lashings. "I think I'll take a lunch. Thanks, Hawkes."

"Sure." He waved and headed out, anxious to catch up with his boss before he got too impatient. Lindsay watched him and then braced herself for what was coming. She wasn't looking forward to it, but the showdown was long overdue. There was no reason to keep putting it off, and if Danny wasn't going to make good on his suggestion that they talk, then she would. She grabbed her stuff and, leaving what she didn't need in the lockers at the labs, headed for Danny's apartment. For better or worse, she was going to find out what could be done about their situation. She just hoped she was as prepared as she thought she was. Danny had a way of worming past her defenses.

She slipped onto the subway and breathed, just to calm herself. She didn't call him, she didn't want him to expect her and slip away again. She just hoped she wouldn't be walking into something that she didn't want to see.