allison - Thank you! That's what I'm going for. I'm afraid the case in this fic is really just a subplot, and ill-developed, as this story is really about Danny and, to a lesser degree, Erin. But hopefully it gets the job done.

A/N: A little bit of Erin, a little bit of case, and whole lotta Danny.

-6-

Danny walked into Erin's living room to find Jamie pacing back and forth, his face the picture of self-loathing. He knew that look; he'd seen it in the mirror more times than he cared to remember. Erin sat on the couch, a blanket around her shoulders. An interoffice envelope sat on the coffee table in front of her, two eight-by-ten glossies on top of that. He knew without looking what they were, but crossed to Erin's side and picked them up anyway as he sat down. She leaned into his side and he looped one arm around her shoulder.

The first had Erin in her pajamas, drawing back the comforter on her bed. The second was Erin, asleep, on her side facing the window. "When was this?"

"Monday night." Erin glanced at Jamie involuntarily, and Danny watched his shoulders slump even farther. "I changed the sheets before bed Tuesday night."

Jamie started towards them, stopping a couple feet away. "Danny, I'm—"

"Don't worry about it, kid. He probably saw you bring her home—hell, he probably saw us at lunch. He knew what you were there for, knew you'd clear the rooms. He waited long enough, then figured he was safe. Woulda happened to me, too. Coulda, last night, for all we know yet."

"What now?" Under the blanket, Erin rubbed her hands up and down her arms.

"Dad know?"

Jamie nodded. "He wants her to file a complaint, so we can get some uniform help. Said it'll still be you or me, or him, with her at nights though."

"I don't want that, Danny."

Danny looked down at her. His kid sister, not even safe in her own house, still holding her ground. "He can't make you do it, Erin, but it's probably the safest bet."

"I'm not gonna be a prisoner in my own house, Danny. I won't, not even for dad. Besides." She looked him squarely in the face for a second or two and then held Jamie's gaze for a lot longer. "I've got the best detail I could ask for right here." Jamie looked skeptical, despite her confidence, and Danny stood. He squeezed Erin's shoulder. "Be right back." He nodded Jamie to follow him into the kitchen.

"If I thought you screwed up, kid, I'd be the first one to tell you. You know that." Jamie nodded, but the way he kept his eyes on the ground suggested he believed otherwise. Danny chucked him under the chin, drawing his eyes upward. "I mean it. And we're gonna get this guy, you and me, okay?"

"You're telling Dad no on the extra detail?"

Danny jerked his head over his shoulder. "No. She is."

#

"The McGregors' flight gets in next Tuesday at midnight." Danny leaned back in his chair, one hand wrapped around a cup of long-cold coffee. He downed a few swallows of it anyway; on the other side of their desks, Jackie mimicked him.

"So, what, we're supposed to sit here on our hands til then?"

"Or try to find another suspect." It was hard to be sold on the sister for the murder without even talking to her. He just couldn't imagine a woman killing her sister for complaining too loudly about what she had to do for a wedding. Jackie seemed on board with the idea though; he wondered what bride had pissed her off so badly, and if the woman was still breathing.

And the flipping out over the card with a check for a grand—that made even less sense.

"I'm open to suggestions."

"Okay." Danny's feet hit the floor. "I think we need to find out who else she talked to, danced with—maybe a boyfriend nobody mentioned yet?"

"Maybe a boyfriend who wasn't crazy about seeing her dance with her ex?" Jackie asked, and shrugged. "Good a chance as any." Before she could say any more, her cell phone rang. "Curatola." She sipped her coffee, frowning and occasionally nodding to herself. "Yeah, okay, thanks." She dropped her phone onto the desk and rubbed her forehead with the heel of her hand. "ME says she's got a half-dozen broken bones, and a lot of bruising under all that tulle."

Danny frowned and brought up the crime scene photos out on the network. "There's nothing out of place in that room. Not to mention I think my sister's got a bigger closet at her place. Her ending up with a broken neck in that room was pushing it; no way there was a fight there."

"So she dies somewhere else, and the killer moves the body?"

Danny nodded. "Call CSU and tell 'em to go back over the place with a fine-toothed comb."

She smirked. "They're gonna love you, you know that?"

He grinned. From the looks of the place when they'd walked in, the staff hadn't even started putting the place back together, and with it a closed crime scene, they wouldn't have been able to make any progress. CSU'd have their hands full. But he could live with that. "Tell 'em they can join my fan club."

#

"So you're telling me we got nothing."

Jackie crossed her arms and frowned at her partner. "Blood that matches Elli Marx at the foot of a stairwell, and hair and fibers from at least a dozen people. Theater manager says people are instructed to stay out of the theater itself if they're not attending an event there, but we all know how well people listen, especially when they've been drinking. So yeah, basically, we got nothing." Jackie rubbed her eyes. "In fact, I think we got even less than we started with this morning."

Danny scowled at her, as if it was her fault the whole investigation so far had led them smack into one big brick wall. "Yeah? How's that?"

"If the bride's wearing a big white dress—and judging by those hideous bridesmaid dresses, she probably was—no way someone doesn't notice one, if she disappears, and two, if she's dragging her sister's body around and ends up with blood on her skirt." Jackie shook her head. "I'm not saying it's not her, but I'm not convinced, either."

"Yeah, me neither." He rubbed his eyes tiredly; judging by the dark circles and his caffeine intake, he still probably wasn't sleeping so well. "We need that guest list."

Jackie reached for her phone. "I'll see if the theater manager knows who might have a copy. Otherwise, we might be back to daddy."

Reagan pitched his cup into the trash with as much violence as one could apply to a piece of cardboard. "Yeah, I want to talk to him again, anyway. Find out if he knows why his daughter's so pissed off to get a grand as a wedding gift."

Jackie smirked. "Maybe she expected more."

#

Linda was washing the pots and pans from dinner when he walked into the kitchen, stopping to grab a beer from the fridge on his way to her. He slipped his free hand around her waist and kissed the back of her neck lightly. She leaned into him, sighing, and twisted to kiss him on the mouth. "Was starting to wonder if we'd see you at all this week."

"I know, babe. It's just… this thing…" He sighed and tipped the bottle against his lips. "It's Erin." He glanced toward the door, making sure the boys weren't in sight. "She's got a stalker. This guy's sending her pictures in her underwear. Jamie and me, we're taking turns keeping an eye on her."

Linda dried her hands before turning fully to hug him, resting her cheek against his chest. "How's she holding up?"

He stroked her hair and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "She's Erin. Dad wants her to report it to the police, and stay at the house with him instead of her own place, but she won't, and I kinda agree with her. This guy—they're coming through interoffice mail. And he's smart. It's not the janitor at City Hall we're talking about here."

"You'll get him." Linda patted him on the chest, lingering long enough to give him another deep kiss. "You guys catch a case besides?" She started to turn back to the dishes but he caught her arm. "Leave those. I'll get 'em." He glanced at his beer and then looked into his wife's eyes. "C'mere. I gotta talk to you."

She let him lead her to the table without protest, though the worry in her eyes intensified with every step she took. She stopped behind the chair at the head of the table and faced him. "Danny, what's wrong?"

"Sit." He nodded toward the chair and for a second he thought she'd argue. But she apparently decided better of it and did as he asked. He took the chair kitty-corner.

"My dad said something to me Sunday night, and it got me thinking. I know I've been…" He raised the beer to her. "But dad said something else, something I hadn't thought of. And I wanted—in case you're worried, like he is, I wanted to talk to you about it."

"Danny, you're scaring me a little bit here."

"I'm sorry." He reached for her hand, and leaned across the corner of the table to kiss her softly. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to." He exhaled, hard, and took another long pull from his beer, needing the liquid courage. "He asked me to promise him, if I think about killing myself, that I'll call somebody before I do it."

He heard her breath catch, and her hand tightened on his. "Danny—"

"Shh." Danny pressed a finger to her lips. "I'm not, babe. I promise you. But he said it, and it got me wondering if you think that too."

She looked away, and that was enough of an answer. He set his beer aside and cupped her cheek, guiding her to face him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know how." Tears filled her eyes, spilling over to slide down her cheeks. He rubbed them away with his thumb. "I'm sitting here watching you self-destruct, Danny. I ask you why you're drinking so much, and you go out and get so bombed your little brother's gotta drive you home. How am I supposed to ask?"

Danny looked down at his lap, and then over at the mostly empty bottle of beer. "I guess I don't know the answer to that."

"Are you?"

He looked up, startled, and shook his head. "No."

"Really?" The skepticism in her eyes left his heart heavy. How had they gotten here? "Your dad's that wrong? I'm that wrong?"

"You're not—you've gotta understand something, Linda."

"Danny, I would love to understand, but you won't let me in, no matter what I do. How am I—"

Danny held up a hand and she fell silent instantly. "I think about it, sometimes, all right?" Her breath hitched, but she didn't speak. "There are days—lately, a lot more than there used to be—that things hurt, too much, and it seems like it might be nice to take the easy way out. But all I gotta do is think about you, and Jack and Sean, and Dad, and I know I could never do that to you and the boys."

"Right now you couldn't."

"Maybe so. But I give you my word—I swear on our kids—that if I ever start thinking like that, more than what it is now, I'll get help."

Suddenly he leaned across to kiss her, hard and fierce, and she gasped a little in surprise before sinking into the kiss. He withdrew when he needed to breathe, and rested his forehead against hers. "I love you, Linda. Never doubt that."