Going back to work next week and I'm having a hard time focusing. Thanks so much for the reviews. I hope to get several chapters up this week, because you know ... :p

Across the line 10

"Okay spill, Messer," Flack said as he stepped across the hall from the crime scene with Danny. "What are you not saying?"

Danny glanced through the open door and into the apartment where Sheldon's team was already working the scene. "He wasn't killed here and he wasn't killed today. Doc suspects he's been under refrigeration for a few days."

"Explains why he went under our radar." Flack frowned. "But it's not what's bothering you."

Danny hesitated, and for a moment Flack was sure he wasn't going to spill. "That apartment was my first apartment when I moved out of my parents. Back then, my uncle Sal owned both buildings," he took a step, suddenly on edge. "There was a receipt in Holder's pocket, Flack. For Mike's place. The receipts from a week ago."

"When you met with Lindsay."

Danny spun, the movement fast, reticent of his years on the baseball field. His fist slammed into the aged sheet rock.

"Hey," Flack moved to step between him and the wall. "You didn't know."

"We were careful. I pushed her to do it. I convinced her. I thought we were being so careful."

Flack sighed. "So if this was a message, what exactly was he trying to say?"

"To Max Holder it was that he screwed up …"

At the look in Danny's eyes, Flack raised his brows. "Just keep in mind, you go through me to hit that wall, and I hit back."

"Funny," Danny turned, hands on his hips as he struggled over the walls that seemed to be closing in on him. "Pierson wants us to know that we can't escape. He can't take us down and kill us, not after Sinclair and not with Mac removed so suddenly. He has to keep his nose above water, but he wants us to know he knows."

Flack's jaw was tight as he looked across the hall, and thought about the building. "Sinclair's place was researched, and chosen. You said it was almost sterile. Peirson didn't choose this place because of its sterile condition, or lack of hidden cameras and security feed, and he didn't wait year after year for the perfect planned opportunity. He took a chance to leave a message, which takes it directly back to him. He made a mistake, Danny. He showed his hand. He hadn't done that before, not to us."

"But how long, Flack? How long do we have to live like this?"

~ny~

It took everything in her not to look back at the flash drive as she gathered up the papers quickly, making sure instead to sort hers and Pierson's automatically without any hesitation or preference. As she finished, she stood and smiled at Detective Jason Finch.

"Thanks—I get so clumsy when I come in here," the breathlessness of her voice wasn't completely an act. "Pierson's so intimidating."

Finch nodded, his eyes unreadable, "He can be. Just be careful."

Lindsay nodded and left Mac's old office without a second glance back. Her heart was pounding in her chest. The flash drive was in the computer, and would deposit the key into its system on its own. Still, she would have to go back and get it. Her finger prints were all over it.

It had taken a scene to get behind his desk—she didn't have another reason.

She had a chance for one final move. Her last move on her way out of the lab.

~ny~

Flack kept an eye on Danny, who remained at the crime scene, but stayed out of the way. He wasn't going to do anything to compromise the evidence.

When Hawkes's cell phone went off, Flack glanced over-but wasn't concerned until the former ME made his way over to him. Wordlessly, he handed him the phone. Flack glanced down at the text, his frown deepening when he saw 'out for coffee," Lindsay's code for something going wrong a the lab. It meant she was out, that she was safe and waiting at the favorite coffee shop near the lab, but that something had gone completely wrong.

"I can't leave the crime scene-especially not this one."

Flack nodded as he took it in. In the three months since they'd never moved on a danger code. "I'll go-head over and pick her up."

"What about Danny?"

Flack looked over at him. He leaned against the wall, his mind obviously circling through thoughts and blame.

"Not yet."

"You think that's fair?"

Flack shrugged it off. "None of this is fair. I'll call you when I know something."

~ny~

Lindsay was obviously watching for him. She was out of the coffee shop and sliding into his sedan within moments after he pulled to the curb. Her face was set-so you wouldn't have noticed her true feelings unless you paid attention to her hands.

He reached across and took one of them in his own even as he pulled back into traffic. He looked checked his rear view mirror, out knowing he could be followed, and wanting to be ready for anything.

"Monroe?"

She let out a breath. "Mac had be go into Pierson's office to load a key-a program onto Pierson's computer that would override the security and allow remote access."

"Wait-is he crazy?"

"No-no, he told me to wait and to be sure. i thought ..."

"His walls are glass."

"I know that, Flack," Lindsay said through clenched teeth. "Don't you think I know? But I wasn't thinking about the glass behind me. There was nothing I could do about it And someone came in. Then I went back and the flash drive was gone. It was gone …"

Her hands were like ice, but her voice was more flabbergasted than afraid.

"You did your job, Lindsay. More than anyone asked you to do."

"Yeah, but I can't go back."

Flack thought of Danny, then of the woman next to him. He'd been afraid for her himself. "No-no you can't."

~ny~

They were able to work out a meeting place the next morning, but Danny didn't like it. They should have gotten her out of New York immediately. After processing Max Holder's brutal murder, he could only imagine what kind of danger she was in.

He arrived at the Brooklyn Botanical gardens early and wondered the paths, counting down the seconds until he was supposed to meet up with her. He knew she would be early. It was in her nature.

He found her pacing in the flora section, but she seemed almost calm. He'd expected her to look nervous, but maybe that had been a reflection of his own nerves.

"Well," he said as he walked up to her, "if it isn't Lindsay Monroe."

She turned then and he saw the nerves in her eyes. "Danny."

She moved in and wrapped her arms around him, and he simply held her close, relieved. He pressed his lips to her forehead. "You all right?"

"Fine," she let out a breath and stepped back. "I didn't get much sleep last night."

"You aren't the only one."

But he was comforted that Lindsay hadn't make the treck to the gardens alone. The major Mac had worked out for Lindsay to room with had accompanied her on the twisted route she would have taken to reach the gardens.

"You want to talk about it?"

"I suppose we should wait for Mac," she pulled the thumb drive out of her pocket and pressed it into his hand. "But you can hold onto this."

"Wait," he stared at the thumb drive in his hand, "Flack said it was missing-"

"Yeah." She let out a breath and looked around at the landscape that surrounded them. "This is, ah ... nice. This is the native plant area. All of these represent plants that can be found in New York—"

"Lindsay," he took her hands in his and gave them a squeeze. "I know what native means."

"Have you been here before? To the gardens?" When he only lifted his brows, she laughed—and he heard the nerves. "Of course not. I came up here to take classes. They offer workshops in urban gardening—but you don't care about that."

"I do. You're cute when you start spouting facts."

She did it all the time, and only more so when she was nervous, but he liked that about her. He liked that she was interested in urban gardening and less touristy places.

She frowned at him.

"In case you're wondering," he kept things light as he ran a comforting hand through her hair, "just because I didn't pick you up from your apartment, I'm still considering this a date. I say this counts as bringing you flowers."

She tilted her head as she smiled up at him knowingly. "Being in a flower garden does not count as bringing me flowers."

"I disagree, because there are flowers and there is the girl," he told her, "girl plus flowers equals correctly executed date."

"I don't think so." Lindsay argued. "Because the purpose of flowers is to be able to enjoy them after the date. You put them in a vase and set them where you can see them and remember how thoughtful the guy was."

"And then they die," he pointed out and laughed. "Just saying. But ... I did figure that bringing flowers to a girl in a flower garden wouldn't be the same, so I got you something else ... flowery. Actually, I had it before this morning, so it really has nothing to do with the garden. I figured it would come in handy at some point."

"What?"

He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a silver chain. It was crafted in a way to shape tiny flowers within the chain work, and held a simple silver daisy pendant.

"Danny," she stared at it, surprised at how smooth and fluid the silver looked. "It's gorgeous."

"I know someone who knows someone."

He helped her put it on, then took her hand to walk with her among the flowers. She felt the warmth of the necklace against her skin, the strength of his hand in hers, and she couldn't help the smile that crept over her face.

"So," she asked, "do I also need to thank Stella?"

"Does that look like something I could pick out on my own?"

He allowed her the walk in the quiet of the gardens while they waited on Mac.

~ny~

It was surreal, Lindsay realized, as she finally saw Mac walk toward them. She was used to seeing him dressed down in jeans and a t-shirt, but not like this—out in the sunlight. She was used to that Mac, with this determined expression, to be dressed in a suit.

"Tell me what you got," he said, as they had limited the conversation on the cell.

Lindsay looked to Danny. She knew he had something as well.

"Flack was called out to a homicide last night. Max Holder's dead," Danny's hand tightened around hers. "He was beaten badly, Mac. I ran across the street and bought a camera to photograph the scene before Pierson's team got there, and I pulled some trace off the body. We found him in my old apartment, where I lived when I first joined the force."

"it's near your new one, isn't it."

"Almost across the street. It doesn't have the security feed my new one does, but most of the buildings around it do."

Danny passed Mac the messenger bag he'd brought with him. "Adam Ross pulled his financials. His account had already been wiped clean, at least his primary. Ross was able to find another account, one Pierson probably didn't know about, and he passed the information on to me this morning so I slipped it in. We also alerted Sid. He's going to take this body himself and set aside any evidence that might be lost other wise."

Then it was her turn. "Since I talked with you last night, there's been a new development. Detective Finch called me and asked me to meet with him. He brought the thumb drive."

Danny handed it to Mac.

"I don't know what's on it Mac, if the run completed, or if we should trust it. I came straight here. Finch is one of Pierson's hires."

"We'll check it out when you get to the cabin." Mac promised. "Anything else?"

"When I approached Lindsay a few weeks ago at the lab, Finch did warn me to be careful about coming to the lab," Danny added. "He said it made trouble for Lindsay, but I don't know if I like it Mac."

Lindsay let out a relieved breath. "Then I'm safe. Do you think I should go back?"

"No."

"Are you kidding?"

While Danny's answer came a little more flabbergasted, both answered without hesitation.

They shared a brief glance, and Danny nodded to Mac, glad that they were on the same page. "We don't know that for sure," Mac reminded her. "Besides, the deal was you were out of there if anything went wrong, or if we got what we needed. I think we have both. You've done your job, Lindsay, more than anyone asked you to do. Did you bring your stuff?"

"It's with the major."

"Good," Mac looked between them and set a hand on Lindsay's arm. "I'll leave you two for a moment."

"I guess this is it, then," she turned to look at Danny as Mac walked on down the path. "I'd say that it seemed like only yesterday that we started this between us, but I wouldn't be far off."

"You're safe," Danny's blue eyes were dark as he ran a hand through her hair. "That's what matters."

"And you?"

"I'll be fine." He reached up and cupped her face in his hands and searched her gaze with his vivid blue eyes. "We're going to end this soon."

"It all seems like a bad film noir movie."

"If it is, we'll have to watch it," he slid his arms around her and pulled her close. "Because this is going to be better."

"You should come with us."

"And miss all the action here?"

"I'm serious Danny," she leaned back, "if I disappear, do you think Pierson's going to be less focused on you? On Stella? On anyone? This is going to be a burr in his saddle. He's going to react."

"You asked me to trust you," he slid a hand into her hair, and brought her head against his chest. She closed her eyes and listened to his heart, the strength of it, and smiled a little as he press his lips to the top of her head. "Now, trust the rest of us. Trust me."

~ny~

The day her uncle's apartment had been ransacked and Mac had been forced to flee the city, it had become clear that Lindsay would have to leave New York at some point. They'd always suspected that Pierson dealt with his adversaries not just through manipulation and control, but also via homicide. As head of the crime lab, it gave him the perfect opportunity to hide his tracks.

But now that she was out, Lindsay was unprepared for the sense of loss. While Mac drove, Lindsay fiddled with the necklace Danny had given her, and thought of him, of Stella, of everyone on the team that she was leaving behind.

"How do you do it?" Lindsay asked, as she watched the trees go by. "How do you stay out here when you know what's going on back there?"

"I haven't really stayed here," Mac admitted. "I've been called to meet with my contacts a number of times and I've visited some contacts at the FBI lab in Washington. But you knew that."

"Yeah... it's hard." There was a small smile on Mac's lips, a smirk—Lindsay realized. "But you get that. It has been hard for you to let use handle things."

Mac reached over and ruffled her hair. "I brought in the best. I trust you."

Knowing so, didn't make it any easier. When they arrived at the cabin, she carried her single bag inside and unpacked the few things that she had into small soda crates that could slide under the couch where she slept. Then she walked over to sit with Mac as he placed the flash drive into the encrypted FBI computer.

She frowned as the screen first erupted with code and running numbers, much like the old DOS system.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Mac shook his head. "I don't know. Its likely we simply loaded the key for Pierson's computer onto this computer as well."

But he picked up his phone and made a call.