-1Disclaimer I own very little, especially not CSI NY, wish I did though.

Notes Thank you very much for reviews, really appreciated, please continue to let me know what you think about where the story is going. I'm a bit behind in my replies, sorry but will answer as soon as possible. Chapter Four: are Mac, Stella and the team facing a serial killer?

His door opened, and without looking up, knowing who it was, Mac spoke, "Let's go through everything we know, Stella."

Stella sat down opposite her partner and placed a cup of coffee in front of him. He took it with a smile, "Thanks."

"Gotta have something to keep us going. I see this turning into a long night."

They both knew she was right. They had pieces in front of them, fragments of something. What they could do now was share the pieces, maybe argue over them, turn them round, fit them together. Until they could see what they were looking for.

They settled themselves either side of Mac's desk. It was past late, the night sky had long been a curtain at the window and no one else was in the building.

"You start." Mac gave Stella the opening, "Who are our vics?"

"Two… so far. Both women, similar ages, both single. First was Lori Jacobs, 36, a dental nurse who lived with her sister in Queens. Reported missing by her sister two days before she was found. Flack has spoken to her."

"Previous relationships?" Mac threw in.

She looked at Flack's notes, "According to her sister, she broke things off with her last boyfriend six months ago."

"Somewhere else to look, any previous partners in common."

Stella nodded, and continued, counting her points off on her fingers, "Could be. Second vic is Jennifer Steinler, 39, lived alone and worked as a waitress. Reported missing by her colleagues three days ago when she didn't show for work. Nothing previous for either of them."

Mac drummed his fingers on the desk, "So they were missed enough to be reported, they had people around them."

"Not enough though. It wasn't enough to keep them safe."

Both fell silent. Out in the corridor, the lights flickered.

………………………………...

In the depths of the city that never sleeps, someone lay awake. A fluorescent bulb cracked and fizzed on the ceiling of the room. Outside the window the night waited. Never black in the city, there were always lights and colours: the neons of the shops that never shut, the yellow of lamps glowing from windows and inside the room the purple of roses under a strip of white light.

The occupant of the room lay on a hard mattress. It made his spine ache. He shifted position and heard the floor creak. Only a few more hours and it would be time again.

The headlights of a passing car angled through the window, the light glancing off a coil of thick wire on the bedside table. The man grunted and rolled over on to his front, "Damn mattress. Damn see through blinds, should've got blackouts…"

Muttering, he pressed his face into the greasy pillow and was soon asleep. His alarm would wake him in a few hours, before the sun rose. A scent, the heavy perfume of old briars and sweetness drifted through the room from the flowers trapped in a jar of water.

………………………………...

Mac looked at Stella, and saw the sadness and anger in her eyes, and something else. What she had just said caught at him. Keeping people safe. That was what they tried to do. The city, the team, themselves. And it never left him that without her, he would not be there. He reached across and rested his hand on hers for a moment, "Stella, we couldn't save those women, but you know even without me saying it that we can save others. And we can bring justice to whoever killed them. Somewhere amongst all this is what we need, and we're going to find it."

"I know, Mac." She picked up her pen, determination in her face, despite a rueful smile "Sometimes personal feelings, and memories, rear their ugly heads. Okay, who they are. Flack and Zweig can check out backgrounds further and Angell if we need her to, previous partners and so on. Now, MO?"

"Unusual." Mac picked up his cue. She wanted to continue. He stood and began to pace the room, the rhythm connecting his thoughts as he spoke, "Kidnap - I think they were taken forcibly and held, the gap between disappearance and TOD in each case is approximately 48 hours. Let's assume he targets his victims, takes the opportunity and seizes them."

"Drugging them at some point." Stella interjected, "Sid found traces of a morphine based drug in their blood. Then we have the plant based toxin."

"So our killer knows plants, a horticulturalist or at the least, a knowledgeable amateur gardener. He chooses to use roses to administer the toxin. He could have just simply injected it. Why this way?"

Stella tapped her pen then sat back, fingertips together and spoke slowly, "Because he, and I think it is a he, was saying something very deliberate with his choice of flowers. Corny as it was, Sid actually had a point earlier."

"How so?"

"When he said how flowers should be used, and are usually used. As a gift, or to declare love. But poisoned flowers, forcibly given, tied with wire, that's the flip side, twisted. Not love, hatred."

"Or obsession, love spurned maybe?"

"Maybe. And the colour too. For love, I'd expect red roses, wouldn't you?"

Mac smiled, "Of course, Stella."

"Not that I often get them… however," She gave him a grin, "Beside the point. I think the colour's also significant. Our killer is telling us, and his vics something. So let's do a little digging on the meaning of purple flowers."

A voice at the door made both their heads jerk upwards, "No need. I can tell you that. Enchantment. Purple means enchantment."

Please tell me what you think, I love to hear from everyone, and promise to try and reply. Little bit of a shorter chapter. Hopefully not too dull with too much dialogue and exposition. More action next chapter!