A/N: Thank you, thank you to all the readers and especially reviewers. I really appreciate the feedback and questions and crit. It keeps me from getting lazy and makes me think about what I'm doing. This chapter is kind of short again, which I apologize for.
As a sidenote, whether or not CSI:NY ends up getting cancelled, I will still be here, and I hope you will be too. That's when I want fics the most, in fact. So here's the continuation of mine:
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Don suppressed a shiver as he stood out on the sidewalk, scanning the street impatiently. The asphalt, sidewalk, and towering buildings shimmered with the residue of the recently fallen rain. A temporary break in the clouds allowed the afternoon sun to reflect sharply off of every single one of them, which then joined to form an inexplicable laser beam of white light to shoot straight back through his eyes and into his skull.
He may have been getting more sleep than Mac, but four hours of fractured and frequently interrupted rest weren't much to run on either, especially considering his 3am to 9pm shift the day before- plus the whole 'babysitting' Mac thing which made it more like 3 to 11.
Thankfully he'd managed to doze off for almost 45 minutes after an hour of all-consuming boredom stuck at the lab watching Danny and Sheldon shift through files as they tried to find a paper trail on the fiancé or whoever he was. He'd only been woken up when Adam stumbled in and tripped over his stretched out legs in the middle of rattling off an unnecessary story of how he'd discovered where some of the pictures on Jaycie Carlson's phone had been taken. It turned out to be useless, but Adam was proud to have gotten something new from the phone anyways as Mac had confined him to that one piece of evidence and nothing else.
Don wasn't sure if Adam's determination to impress Mac was admirable or just pathetic. Don didn't know many of the techs at the lab, but Adam stuck out as exceptionally intelligent. Of course the only other tech Don had met was Maggie, so that meant absolutely nothing.
An icy breeze tugged at Don's jacket and he ducked further into his collar. "How long does it take to drive around the block?" He muttered to himself. As if in answer, the Avalanche rounded the corner to his left ten seconds later. He strode out to the curb as the truck slowed to a stop, and pulled open the passenger-side door. "Took you long enough." He greeted the occupants wryly.
He was met with an exasperated sigh and could only assume Stella had wasted all of her glares and eye rolls in the last two hours with Mac. "Why didn't you wait inside?" She asked.
"Because you said you were outside! You specifically stressed how I needed to be quick about it."
"That was an exaggeration to begin with." Mac mumbled hoarsely as he slid off his seat and onto the sidewalk. Don was ready with a hand on his arm and Mac didn't even shrug it off, but actually leaned into it as swayed on his feet.
"You're not helping prove your case on that one." Don said, his grip tightening on the man's bicep.
"Get him upstairs."
"Go park." Mac said, not even turning around as kicked the door shut behind him.
"You two still fighting?"
Mac snorted and shook his head. "No. This is us getting along." He started to move forward on his own and seemed stable enough, so Don let go, though he remained close enough to help.
"If I didn't know you I'd say you were being sarcastic." Don smirked. He moved ahead and opened the glass door for Mac, but turned back to see the CSI had stopped and was leaning against the building's outer wall to his right. "You okay?"
Mac gave an indecipherable mumble and nodded.
Don let the door swing shut and casually sidled up next to him. "What's up?"
Mac glanced over at him and shrugged. "Just need some air. Feels nice out here."
In the midst of pulling his jacket tighter around him, Don raised an eyebrow. "Nice?"
"I'm on about five different drugs right now. Don't question it." Mac said in a slight drawl that Don had only ever heard when Mac was drunk- the one time he saw Mac drunk.
Don smirked and glanced down at Mac's splinted wrist which he held against his stomach. "What was the final word on that?" He asked, tilting his head slightly toward the hand.
"I fractured the 4th and 5th metacarpals- which meant something comprehensible an hour ago, but right now I have no idea."
Don nodded thoughtfully. Yes, normally, Mac, who knew something about everything, would have known the implications of such an injury. Don only knew because he had suffered the same injury in the line of duty as a rookie. Nicknamed the "boxer's fracture", it was commonly sustained from punching something, like an unruly suspect's face. "You hit somebody I didn't know about?"
"Not yet." Mac said, raising an eyebrow at his friend. "I'm still considering it though."
As un-funny as Mac's condition was, the homicide detective couldn't help but be a little amused by the uptight CSI's diminished inhibitions. "Drugs are hitting you pretty hard, huh?" Don grinned.
"Doesn't help that the last thing I ate was that sandwich last night."
"I told you to eat." Don shrugged.
Mac laughed. "You ate my fries."
"You told me to! I wasn't going to turn down an offer of food. I was starving." Don scoffed. He thought he felt a drop on his cheek and looked up to see the rapidly closing break in the clouds. "Come on, let's get inside so you can sleep it off. The last thing we need is you getting sick on top of everything."
Mac pushed off the wall and obediently shuffled into the building ahead of Don. Through the open lobby, which stretched to the front of the building, Don could see the media clamoring outside the main entrance. They were all focused on the street, waiting for Mac Taylor, who they would never see, because he had just snuck in through the back. Such was the reason for Stella's urgent message that Don get down to the street right away. Sinclair had warned her about the press gathering at the lab and in the best interest of Mac and consequently the entire NYPD, they had decided it was best if the battered and unmistakably high head of the crime lab avoid speaking to, or even being seen by them. So they had decided to drop Mac off and have Stella approach normally and then face the press once Sinclair arrived.
Don rather smugly considered how long the media would have to wait out there in the cold. He hoped it rained.
"You find anything new?" Mac asked as he stepped into the elevator and immediately found a corner to prop himself up in.
"We're chasing down a few leads. Nothing concrete yet. It's going to take a little while… at least that's what Danny said. I caught some sleep for a while there, so I wasn't exactly helping."
"That's good. They got it." Mac nodded.
Don stared at Mac for a minute. Aside from looking drawn and exhausted, Mac also seemed a bit more relaxed as well. That could have, of course, been the fault of the drugs, but Don figured finally coming to an agreement with Stella and subsequently figuring out a plan for dealing with their suspect were also contributors. Only Mac would feel more at ease after making himself an intentional target for a serial killer.
As part of this new plan, it was decided- or ordered, rather- that Mac get as much rest as possible until their suspect contacted him again. It was the only part of the agreement that Mac took issue with, but Sinclair had backed Stella up on that stipulation. Chief Sinclair had the image of the NYPD to protect, which meant he wanted this killer caught, but he was also responsible for the safety of those he supervised. Throwing an injured and incoherent detective to the wolves would not help to uphold either of those goals. The chief had even questioned whether or not Flack could be substituted for Mac in the plan, but as much as most of them would have preferred it that way, it was up to the killer, not them- and he had set his sights on Mac.
"Do you think it'll work?" Don asked.
Mac, who had been staring blankly at the elevator doors didn't seem to hear him. Don was opening his mouth to ask him again, when Mac started shaking his head slowly. "I don't know. We're betting a lot on assumptions here, but we do know he'll go pretty far to get my attention. So at least that's in our favor."
Don couldn't help but smirk and shake his head. The guy's homicidal nature and obsession with Mac worked in their favor. How could the plan not go wrong?
The doors finally slid open and Don watched as Mac immediately straightened up and strode confidently out onto the floor. Don wasn't sure if it was just for show or an unconscious reaction.
Sheldon immediately noticed them, and Don wouldn't have been surprised if he'd been watching the elevators more than the computer screen in front of him for the last few minutes. Don had a theory that doctors were drawn to the wounded and dying out of a morbid fascination and an inexplicable desire to see how the body functioned at its worst. There was the whole 'helping people' which probably played some part, but he'd seen enough doctors and that hungry look in their eye when they saw something new. He'd sat in a hospital bed before while his doctor animatedly told another doctor the story of how Don had been stabbed with a potato peeler.
Then Don saw the concern in Sheldon's eyes and figured he'd needed to tone down his bias against doctors.
"How are you feeling?" Sheldon asked, falling into step beside Mac and looking him over closely.
"Just fine. Stella's got a file for you to look at when she gets back, but don't waste too much time on it. I want you working the case." Sheldon nodded eagerly. The 'file' had to be Mac's medical report, and the former ME would read it like the next Da Vinci Code. Mac stopped just outside his office and turned to face Don and Hawkes.
"You know to come get me if you find anything." He said, eyeing each of them in turn.
Don threw up his hand. "Scout's honor." He reached behind Mac and opened his door for him. "Now go get some rest because with our luck that will be in ten minutes and you'll waste it talking to us."
Mac smirked and walked back into his office with a roll of his eyes.
"So, did you find anything?" Don asked Hawkes as soon as the door had swung shut.
Sheldon grinned, "Come on. I found the owner of our blue SUV."
"The fiancé?" Don asked, following Hawkes as he quickly ducked into another room.
"Nope." Sheldon handed him a DMV printout. "Jaycie Carlson's employer. He says they use it as an unofficial company car and he loans it to her every now and then. Jaycie was in possession of it when she went missing."
Don glanced over the report. "Have we looked at this guy?"
"He has an alibi for the third shooting. He was appearing on a morning news show to promote his organization. He says Jaycie was supposed to go with him."
"Based on the way this is going we're gonna need a few more alibis for the other shootings." A cell phone ring cut him short and he quickly answered. "Flack…Thanks, I'll send someone out." He snapped his phone shut and let out a breath. "They found Amy Chase's BMW parked at the boat dealership she inherited."
"I could check it out." Hawkes nodded. Danny and Lindsay had gone back to Chase and Carlson's apartment a short time before, leaving him as the only option.
Don bit his lip. He wasn't in charge of the lab, but he definitely felt responsible for their safety at crime scenes. "Clear it with Stella before the reporters get to her and take Scagnetti with you. I'd go, but…" He motioned vaguely behind him toward Mac's office where the blinds were now drawn and the light switched off.
"You got it."
Sheldon took off down the hallway and Don pulled out his phone again. If this plan was going to work, he had a few favors to cash in on.
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"It's a good thing Mac isn't watching this." Danny said, leaning back in his chair, feet up on the conference room table as a press conference played on the TV in front of him. "He'd go down there just to tell that reporter off."
Lindsay pushed his feet to the floor as she walked by him. "Stella's got it covered."
"Frankly, if I were a reporter, I'd be more afraid of Stella than Mac. Mac might put me in my place, but Stella would possibly knock out my teeth." Don said between mouthfuls of a microwave pizza he'd salvaged from the vending machines.
"I might do the same if you keep chewing with your mouth open." Lindsay warned as she pulled up a chair across from him.
Danny laughed as Don immediately shut his mouth and held up his hands in apology. "Do not mess with the women in this office. They're rabid." Danny said, earning another glare from the Montana native.
"Can we get back to this now?" She continued, flipping open a folder full of photos and messy reports. "So based on what records we've found in the girls' apartment, we're assuming the fiancé works out of the law offices of Powell and Stephens. Adam is cross checking employee files now."
Don made sure he had swallowed his mouth-full of pizza before speaking. "I told him to scratch the DMV angle and stick with facial recognition. Hawkes found out that Jaycie Carlson's employer owns a blue 1998 Ford Explorer which is an unofficial company car that he loans to her whenever she's in need of it. Carlson was in possession of it when she went missing."
"And now our killer is driving around in it. I personally would have picked the Beamer." Danny said.
"Which was found in the parking lot of the boat dealership inherited by Amy Chase, and Hawkes is there now with Scagnetti." Lindsay said, looking to Don for confirmation.
"Yep, and Mac has miraculously remained unseen for over an hour now." He added with a grin as he glanced at the clock on the wall.
"Is someone checking to make sure he isn't dead?" Danny asked, only half sarcastic.
"I did when we got back ten minutes ago." Lindsay admitted quietly as she looked over the rest of the files she recovered from the apartment. Don hid his smile. He'd peeked into Mac's office as well, just to make sure the man was sleeping, and surprisingly he was.
"Guys!" Adam burst into the room, a sheet of paper clenched in his hand. "I got a name." He tried to slide the paper onto the table, but it slipped off onto the floor. He was about to chase after it when Don grabbed his arm.
"Just say it."
Adam immediately straightened and spat it out. "Allen Lee Williams."
"He even sounds like a serial killer." Danny muttered as Lindsay stepped back from the table and pulled out her cell phone.
"What else do you have on him?" Don asked impatiently.
"Well, I need the…" Adam motioned helplessly to the fallen piece of paper. Don rolled his eyes and released Adam's arm. The tech fell to the floor and scrambled for the sheet, smacking his head on the bottom of the table as he tried to stand. "Ow! I'm good." He assured everyone as he emerged, rubbing his head with a grimace. "Okay, he's 31 years old. Received a JD and MBA from NYU 3 years ago. He worked at a few firms over the next two years and finally ended up at his current job with Powell and Stephens specializing in family law. He was raised upstate by his parents who divorced when he was 8."
"Record?" Danny asked.
"Not that I can find." Adam said, shaking his head.
Don and Danny were already on their feet. "Address?" Don demanded.
"Hold off on that for a minute." Lindsay said as she closed her phone and strode back to the table. "I just talked to Williams' secretary. She says he's been in California at a conference all weekend and his plane doesn't land for another two hours."
They all exchanged confused and hopeless expressions for the next few seconds until they were interrupted by someone else entering the conference room that Don didn't recognize. "What do you got, Mark?" Danny asked him.
"Copies of the sketch of that guy Maggie saw in the lobby. Digital representation and traditional sketch." He handed the images over to Danny who's eyes slowly widened as he stared at it.
"What is it?" Don asked, walking over to peer over his shoulder.
Lindsay and Adam did the same, except Adam had to crane his neck and stand on his toes to get a good look. "That's one feminine looking dude." Adam said.
"That's because it's not a man." Danny said, quickly moving over to the screens at the front of the conference room to bring up a picture. He held the sketch up next to it.
Don shook his head. How had they screwed this up? "It's Jaycie Carlson."
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A/N: Expect a faster update next time! At least so long as I get some feedback. I have a habit of waiting for reviews before I start writing the next chapter. So please review! Thank you for reading.