Disclaimer: No infringement of copyright intended. All recognizable characters originated with CSI: NY
A/N: An enormous thanks to my faithful reviewers. Honestly, this story lives due to you. Hold on tight, the ride is just beginning!
Chapter 7
Little Boy Blues
Mac called his team into his office early the next day. They arrived slowly, cups of coffee clutched like lifelines in their cold fingers, eyes awake in sleepy faces. Mac waited until they'd all arrived. Danny and Lindsay arrived at the same time; Stella and Sheldon discussing a case in that quiet voice of those who are up far earlier than they want to be; Adam, Peyton and even Flack. Only the latter looked truly awake, in his pressed shirt and smart tie.
"So, what's up Mac? New case or what?" Danny asked, taking a sip of his coffee as he leaned against the wall.
"No, not really." Mac smiled.
"Well what's with the meetin', then?"
"I have a proposition for all of you."
"Well what is it?" Stella asked sharply. She hated when Mac played these games.
"I need you all to play with Sam."
"That's it? Seriously?"
"His counselor says he needs to start cultivating more adult relationships. Sam liked all of you and he felt safe with you. I know that everyone's busy, especially right about now, but if you could just spare a couple of hours a month for the next while, that'd be great."
"We gettin' overtime for this, Mac?" Danny asked. Mac shook his head, his eyes smiling, glancing around the group. He knew that Danny was already taken, and Lindsay's eyes had softened as soon as he'd mentioned Sam's name. Flack and Stella were having a tacit conversation, and Adam was trying not to look too eager.
"Me too, Mac?" Sheldon asked, raising one graceful eyebrow. "He doesn't know me yet."
"He wants to. He remembers your face. He told his counselor about you, although he didn't draw you in his newest picture, he's drawn you in others. You might have to go a little slower, but he trusts you already."
"Picture?" Adam asked.
"It was part of his therapy before. Now he just draws anyway," Mac pulled the crude sketch out of his pocket, unfolding it. He smiled and then handed it to Adam.
"Wow. He's not bad. I can definitely tell which one is me." Adam smiled and handed the picture to Lindsay, trying not to let his hands tremble.
"So you'll do it?"
"Okay, count me in," Sheldon said, shrugging.
"Us too," Stella added. Lindsay and Danny nodded, still looking at the portrait.
"Great," Mac said, his face breaking into a rare grin. "Now all I have to do is convince Elena it's a good idea."
CSI: NY – CSI: NY – CSI: NY
Danny looked nervous as he knocked on the door, checking the address again in his notebook. Lindsay smiled up at him.
"It's okay. She'll love you. I promise."
"Yeah, thanks, Montana," he tried to smile back, but his lips wouldn't co-operate. Lindsay stifled the need to giggle. The man standing in front of her would gladly take down men twice his size; had been shot and crawled his way through the snow into a cabin with a known killer (not to mention the man who'd just shot him); squared off against drug-dealers, gang members, and serial killers; and yet he was nervous about meeting the mother of his eight year-old baseball apprentice. Crazier still that I love him to distraction, she thought, turning to face the door.
Danny had just raised his hand to knock again when the door flew open. Sam launched himself at Danny, hugging him around the knees, then allowed Lindsay to pick him up and hug him properly. Just as quickly, he scrambled down and ran back into the house.
"Mum! Mum, they're here!" Elena came out of the kitchen, being dragged along by her enthusiastic son. Lindsay smoothly stepped into the line of fire.
"Mrs. Martinez, hi. You might remember me, I'm Lindsay Monroe, and this is Danny Messer."
"Yes. Hello, Detectives," Elena's face was cool, her handshake firm, her eyes unblinking. Lindsay waited until she'd turned around to wince. Yes, she definitely remembers me.
Danny was the one to smile reassuringly this time. Gently, he slipped his hand into hers, and walked into the house, removing his shoes.
"Coffee? Tea?" Apparently, though Elena didn't appear to like either of them much, she was wiling to be polite.
"Coffee, thank you," Danny replied.
"Nothing for me, thanks," Lindsay said politely, sitting on the edge of the couch. She glanced at the pictures on the coffee table. "Sam, did you draw all these?"
Sam looked up from the Lego castle he was building. "Uh-huh. Want me to show them to you?"
"I'd like that very much," Lindsay smiled, still a little nervous.
Sam jumped up on the couch beside her, tucking himself between her body and Danny's. He picked up the stack of pictures on the table and started sorting through them, looking for something.
"Can you guess who this one is?" He handed her a picture of a man, wearing glasses, his crayon sky-blue eyes piercing from the page.
"Hmm," she held the picture up, comparing it to Danny. "I think it's Danny. Is that right?"
"Yup. See? He's wearing a blue t-shirt, just like that day at picnic." He rifled through his stack again. "This is my mum," he held another picture up at random.
"Yes, I can see her smiling just exactly like that."
He handed another picture to Danny. "That one is Lindsay. It's not finished yet, I can't get her hair right."
"Oh, I dunno, Sammy boy. It looks pretty good to me." He grinned, holding up a picture of a half-bald Lindsay. She stuck her tongue out at him.
"Here's Donnie, and Mac, and Stella. Here's Adam."
"Sam, isn't that a picture of a computer?"
"Yes, with Adam's hair." Lindsay burst out laughing.
"Here's Sheldon, although I don't know if it's right. I haven't seen him in a while. And this is my best friend, Jake."
"Wow, Sammy, you're pretty good at this whole drawing stuff. And with crayons, too! Do you want to be an artist when you grow up?" Danny asked, stretching.
"No."
"Why not?"
"I want to be a sketch artist for the police department. So I can help you catch the bad guys." Suddenly, he looked guilty. "I didn't do a good job of describing my bad guy, did I?"
"Oh, Sam, it's okay. You did better than any of us thought you could have." Lindsay assured him, squeezing him around the shoulders. "Do you have a picture of Peyton?"
"Uh huh. Right here." Lindsay couldn't help but be impressed. No sketch was completely finished, but all of them had been painstakingly drawn. They must have taken ages to have gotten this far, far more time than she would have allotted a young child devoting to, well, anything.
Elena materialized from the kitchen again, holding a steaming cup of coffee for Danny.
"Aw, thanks, Mrs. Martinez. You're a saint," he grinned, turning on his charm.
"You're welcome. Now, Detectives, I understand you want to spend a little time with Sam?"
"Only if that's all right with you, Mrs. Martinez," Lindsay said hurriedly. "I know that we're basically strangers, and I wouldn't want you to feel pressured by either of us, any of us, in any way."
"Elena, please." The faintest trace of a smile appeared on the woman's face. Lindsay gloried in her small victory for just a second. "What kinds of things were you planning on doing with Sam?"
"Well, we were going to take him to a ball game, and he and I had a lot of fun playing in the park last week. That's mostly what we were thinking, some time spent outside, having fun," Danny answered. "I know that Mac doesn't have the time he wants to for that kind of stuff, and he doesn't want to admit he's getting older. Don Flack and Reed Garrett, Mac's step-son, you know him?" He waited for her cautious nod. "Well, they also wanted to do some 'guy stuff,' shoot some hoops and play soccer. Teach him the rules for football."
"And you, Detective-"
"Lindsay," Lindsay cut her off smoothly. "Well, it might surprise you, but I'm a pretty good pitch. Mostly we want to do things with him that Mac doesn't, or can't. Sorry, buddy, we won't be taking you to the movies. We know that's something you and Mac do special." This last was directed to the small boy beside her, as she ruffled his tousled curls.
Sam shrugged, jumping off the couch again to return to his Lego. "That's okay. I like special things with everyone I know."
"So, Elena, that's about it. We'll make sure he gets muddied up and tired out from time to time, and probably feed him a little."
Sam glanced up again. "Sounds good to me, mum. Can I go?"
Elena laughed. "Well, I think it'll be a good idea. You don't spend enough time outside, you're paler than a ghost." She turned her attention back to the young couple sitting in her living room. "Do you know what other kinds of things the others might do with him?"
"I know that Adam Ross wants to introduce him to the world of video games," Lindsay smiled fondly. "Don and Stella will probably do the same kind of stuff we do, although Stella mentioned something about a combined art class that looked interesting. Dr. Hawkes… well… Sheldon will teach him chess."
"I like chess," Sam said, his eyes back on his Lego. "I'm not good at it."
Danny laughed. "Trust me, boyo, fifteen minutes with Sheldon and you'll be the best chess player your age in Manhattan."
Lindsay looked anxiously at Elena. "I wouldn't want you to think we're trying to… take over, or anything."
This time Elena cut her off. "Dr. Millerton and I spoke about it. She seems to think there's no one better for him to start forming relationships with. And she's probably right. I know that none of you will let anything happen to him."
Lindsay smiled again, ignoring the odd sense of foreboding filling her.
CSI: NY - CSI: NY – CSI: NY
"That went well," Danny said as they bade Elena goodbye half an hour later.
"It did." Lindsay still hadn't shaken off her strange premonition from before.
"What's the matter, Montana?"
"Oh, nothing. I just hope that Dr. Millerton is right, that we'll do some good for Sam."
"Whoa, Montana. What makes you think we won't be? You're a natural with kids, and Sam at least thinks I'm funny."
"Maybe that's what I'm worried about," she teased, trying to distract him.
"Ouch," he rubbed his chest. "I'm not sure that was necessary. You might have to make it up to me."
"Might I? And how would I do that, exactly?"
He raised one eyebrow. "Well, I've got a few ideas--"
CSI: NY – CSI: NY – CSI: NY
"Adam? Adam. Adam!" Lindsay stood directly in front of the younger man, forcing him to stop in his tracks.
"Oh, hi Lindsay. I was just coming to find you. We finally got a hit in CODIS."
"On who?"
"On your second bleeder." Adam looked proud, he always did when he'd figured something out. "His name is Isaac Bennett. Interestingly enough, he only appeared on the map about ten years ago."
"Immigrant?"
"That or Witness Protection. Even more interesting, he's a little shy of incredibly wealthy."
"How d'you mean?"
"He's a mechanic."
Lindsay raised one eyebrow. "A mechanic? They're not usually wealthy, Adam."
"I know, but he only fixes cars for some of the best. He says his top priority is to 'keep beautiful cars looking beautiful.' According to his website, anyway." Adam handed her the DNA sheet and a printout of Bennett's advertisement.
"Hmm. All right, thanks, Adam. I'll go and convince Danny we should talk to this guy."
"No problem." Adam watched her walk away, glad his scruffy beard hid his blush. Too bad his ears were likely to burst into fire any second.
Lindsay marched into the office she shared with Danny, running straight into him.
"Whoa, Montana, where's the fire?" Danny's hands held her shoulders, steadying her.
"Sorry. Adam just got a hit on the second guy in the room."
"What, the not dead one?"
"Well, I hope he's not dead. Otherwise we're even further behind than I thought we were."
