Title: Their Love, Her Murder

Disclaimer: Serious slash. Violence. Angst.

POV: Danny

Chapter Three: Always A Gentleman

The ringing drives itself deep into my subconscious. Slowly, using a stray beam of light as a rope, I climb my way out into the real world. The sun is shining through the partially open curtains in my bedroom. For a minute I'm lost. Then telephone sounds its wake-up call again. Groggy, I reach over to the bedside table.

"Hello?" My voice is slightly scratchy.

"Danny, you're late. What the hell are you still doing at home?" Mac doesn't sound happy. I fish around on the table for my glasses. I slip them on. The clock tells me in bold red numbers that it's almost eleven in the morning.

"Oh, shit, sorry, Mac. I'll be right in."

"Come straight to my office when you get here." The click of the phone lets me know that he's gone.

I rollover. Why the hell did I sleep so late? Why didn't my alarm go off? Not a great way to start a day. I should have told Mac that I was sick. At least than I wouldn't have to face his anger. It's not until I'm half-way through my shower that I remember last night. I remember what Flack said. I blush again. He's not here. I thought he wanted to have breakfast with me?

You fucked up, Danny. Nice move.

The drive to work is spent worrying. What did I do? Why wasn't Flack there? Did we get into an argument? Why can't I remember anything? It's all so frustrating. What if I see him at work today? Should I just ignore him? I feel like banging my head against the steering wheel. But what would that accomplish?

Mac is sitting in his office talking to Stella. That's all they ever do. Talk and talk and talk. Everyone else in the lab can see it; the attraction. But they don't. Scientists are not always smart. Than again, no one is when the heart is concerned.

Mac sees me. He says something to Stella and she gets up to leave. We run into each other at the door.

"Gees, Danny, you look like shit," she says.

"Why thank you, Stella. Is he pissed?" I ask.

"More like a little furious." She gives me a reassuring wink before leaving. Probably to find Hawkes and Lindsay. She'll probably tell them that I got myself into trouble again. Nothing like making the lab gossip topic of the day. I realize that I'm holding my breath and let it out as I enter the office.

"Daniel, nice of you to finally join us today," Mac says.

"Sorry, my alarm didn't go off. I won't let it happen again, Mac. I swear."

He shakes his head. "Don't lie to me, Danny. I know that you were out drinking last night. An officer saw you. He knew that I had rules against drinking."

"I'm sorry, Mac. I really am. I won't let it happen again. Please. I was feeling bad about the case I had just worked. I need to get rid of the images in my head. All those kids. All the things that guy did. I didn't know what else to do," I explain. "It was a bad move and I'm sorry. I promise not to slip up again."

He sits their quietly while I run-off at the mouth. An eerie silence follows my explanation. Then he finally says something.

"Screw up again and I may just have to demote you. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Get going. You've been assigned to help Hawkes and Stella with their case." He stands. "If you need me, I'll be out re-going over my crime scene with Lindsay."

We part ways. I sigh in relief. I can't believe that Mac found out. Hell, I can't believe that someone tattled on me. How low is that? I know that drinking was wrong. I knew I shouldn't have gone. But I couldn't ignore it. Not when I was asked to go by Flack.

Hey, hey, slow down, Danny. Mac never mentioned Flack. Maybe you weren't really with him. Maybe you're just imagining things.

I shake my head. I can't be. Can I?

"Hey, Danny, over here." Hawkes waves to me. I see Stella in the corner behind him. She's talking to someone on her cell phone. Maybe it's Mac. Maybe they have a secret relationship. If they do, they hide it well.

"You want to fill me in since I'm helping you now?" I ask Hawkes.

"Sure thing. Glad to have your help. I hear that you're quite the puzzle-solver. Mac won't admit it though," he says with a smile. "Anyway. Our victim is Jacob Bradley. His Ford Explorer went off the road three nights ago. He died of arsenic poisoning. We found a few loves notes in his briefcase and a hotel key."

"Did you follow the key?" It's an obvious question, but I like to ask anyway. One has to cover all their bases.

"Yes. The room was registered in his name. The clerk never saw him with anyone. The surveillance cameras back him up."

"What about the letters? Are they from a current lover or ex? Was Mr. Bradley married?"

"No wife and no one ever saw him out with a girlfriend. The dates at the top suggest that they're relatively new. Unless he was writing letters to himself, there's a girl out there somewhere that loves this man."

"Or murdered him Are the letters signed with a name?"

"Nope. All of them are signed with the initials, K.L.D. We haven't found any contacts in his personal-affects that share those initials."

Stella is still on the phone. I thought she was assigned to this case too. Why is she just chatting away with someone? Who am I to judge, though? I was late today. Seems that the two best CSI's here were Hawkes and Mac. I didn't know Lindsay well enough. I sort of avoid getting to know her. She was supposed to be the replacement of my best friend. That reminds me, I need to call up Aiden and see how things are going.

"Here, take this," Hawkes says as he hands me an evidence bag. Inside is a vial of white substance. "We found this in the car and haven't had time to run it. Will you do us the favor?"

"Sure," I reply. Trace. Always trace. At least this time it's not exploited children. I bid Hawkes goodbye and wave to Stella. Yes, she is still on the phone.

I walk toward the Trace Lab. My mind tries desperately to remember last night while I walk in silence. If I got wasted, why don't I have a hangover? My head doesn't hurt at all. I contemplate smacking my head on the door to the lab. But just like with the steering wheel, what would that accomplish?

"Messer, you feeling okay?"

That voice. That sweet voice. I knew that I would see him here. I always do. I turn around. Flack is giving me a weird look. His blue eyes match the blue of the shirt he's wearing. The man really knows how to carry-off wearing a suit.

"I'm just fine, Flack. Is there something I can do for you?"

"I'm glad to see you got to work just fine."

"Just fine?" He follows me into the lab. "I did not get to work 'just fine'. I was late and Mac is pissed. And you know what? I can't for the life of me remember what happened last night."

Stupid! Shut your mouth! What if something did happen? You just told him that he wasn't worth remembering. Go dig yourself a grave, Danny. You're finished.

He chuckles. "You got a bit wasted, so I took you home. I made you an old hangover rememdy that my mother taught me. You fell asleep on your bed when I sent you in to change. You looked like anangel. It didn't feel right to wake you."

"You could have turned on my alarm clock," I say. I let him know that I'm not serious by smiling.

"I'll remember that. For next time."