A/N: And the Danny abuse continues...

Ch. 10

Calvin was setting one toe into a pit of snakes by being at the federal courthouse, but his options were wearing thin. For all he knew, he was fueling the fire of motive for the Quinns to torment Danny. If just one of them spotted Calvin in the throes of what he was about to do, Calvin would soon be hearing from them on some new difficulty Danny was going through.

But he was taking the risk for Danny's sake.

He leaned with his shoulder to the wall between the elevators, and watched the glass front entrance for the dark haired prosecutor Cathy Rodriguez. Sure enough, the young Hispanic woman was hurrying up the stairs while checking her watch, her other hand occupied carrying a leather brief case. On entering she went straight for the elevators, then slowed when her gaze became glued to Calvin.

" Mr. Messer?" she asked, alarmed, stopping four feet from the older man. Calvin pushed off of the wall and gave her a quick nod.

" Miss Rodriguez. We need to talk."

Cathy blinked several times. The elevator on Calvin's right slid open with a group of five pouring out and spreading like spilled water.

" Um... I suppose. Follow me." She sounded tense, as though balancing between being angry and being nervous.

She stepped inside the open elevator and Calvin followed. Once inside, she hit the 'close doors' button, and once sealed she rounded on Calvin.

" Mr. Messer, I have to warn you, this is highly unorthodox, not to mention dangerous for the case. If you have decided on agreeing to testify then you need to make a formal statement with the attorney of the opposing party present..."

Calvin raised his hand patiently, patting the air for Cathy to stop. " Miss Rodriguez, I didn't change my mind."

Cathy stared at him coolly. " Then we shouldn't be talking. If anyone were to see us, anyone involved in this matter, they might jump to the conclusion that information was being exchanged. Mr. Messer, this is a very dangerous game you're playing..."

Calvin chuckled quietly. " No offense, Miss Rodriguez, but you seem to be the one jumping to conclusions. I'm not hear to give... I'm here to ask, and not for any dirt on our mutual 'friends'. And keep in mind I use that term loosely." Calvin sobered. " I need to know why this case is sealed tight until the hearing. Why isn't every law enforcement agency in on what's going down?"

" They are."

Calvin shook his head. " No, only certain people are, people with important evidence or knowledge that'll help the case. I need to know why everything's so freakin' hush-hush."

" I'm surprised you don't know the answer already, Mr. Messer..."

" I do. Connections. The Quinns have connections. People on the inside, people they bribed, people they have on a tight leash. Too many people know what's going on, then info starts to leak, important info that they have time to counteract once they become aware of it. You're trying to keep the Quinns in the dark. What I'm asking is; why can't people who can be trusted be allowed in the loop?"

Cathy furrowed her brow and narrowed her eyes. " Mr. Messer, I don't understand what you're asking me. What is it you want? What're you looking for?"

Calvin averted his gaze to the floor and he tried to fathom the right way to put what needed to be said. His conclusion; no point beating around the bush. He looked back at Cathy.

" Do you know the reason why I won't come forward?"

Cathy nodded, brow still lined. " Threats were made against you and your family. Protection was offered, but you denied it."

" Witness protection, which the Quinns no how to surpass because of those same 'connections' you just talked about. That's what happens when you're part of a rich and powerful family. You get everything you want, and what you don't get you take. Well, the Quinns take a lot, and they damn the risks because they know how to get away with what they do. They're heartless bastards, Miss Rodriguez. I know, I've worked with them or you wouldn't be asking me to rat them out."

The elevator rolled to a stop, and the doors slid open into a brown carpeted hallway lined by dark oak doors with brass nameplates. Cathy led the way down the right hand corridor to the fourth door on the left. Once inside, she gestured for Calvin to sit in one of the two padded chairs before her desk. Behind her, the blinds were open to a horizon-stretched panorama of New York under an overcast morning sky. Calvin continued as Cathy sat and placed her brief case on the floor.

" They don't care who they hurt, or who gets hurt in the process. And they're not beyond sacrificing one of their own. Hell, I think half the time when a Quinn dies its because another Quinn killed him."

Cathy leaned forward with her hands folded on her desk. " I'm not naïve to what the Quinns are capable of. My predecessor Max Durant was the one who had started gathering intel on the Quinns to build up a case, intel that took years to accumulate. I picked up where Durant left off, continued gathering. I probably know the Quinns just as well as you."

Calvin nodded. " You're right. Sorry."

Cathy shook her head. " Don't be. I know you're in a bad situation, but if you would just..."

" No," Calvin nearly snapped. " No, I don't want to hear it. Don't tell me to just hand over what I got and testify, because it isn't as simple as it sounds." Now he was the one to lean forward. " Listen, Miss Rodriguez, I'm not here to save my own hide. I'm here for my kid. Danny Messer. He's a CSI, a cop, and has probably helped dig up half the evidence that helped you put away a few dirt-bags over the years. I'd be willing to hand over whatever I got if I was assured that nothing would happen to my kid as a result. Now, I'm not certain what difference it would make, but if my son was granted the clemency to talk about the case to the people he works with, they might be able to help him out. Cops look after their own, right? That's all I'm asking. Let my kid talk to someone, tell someone who could help him. It's not like he's letting the entire NYPD know about it, just the right people. Consider it a deal. You let my son help himself how he sees or feel fit, and I hand over what I got."

Cathy's eyes went round, and she slowly straightened. " You're serious?"

" Dead serious. Come on, Miss Rodriguez, I was willing to go to jail if it meant keeping the Quinns off Danny's back. The problem is, it might not. I still don't think this information I have's going to make a difference, not with these people, and there's people I know who'll be pissed about what I did. But, hey, I'm already in the fire. I just want to make sure my son gets out of this okay."

Cathy sat back and sighed. " Well, personally, I'd take your offer up in a heartbeat. Problem is, it's not entirely up to me. I'll see what I can do, Mr. Messer, but I have to warn you, some might not jump on this deal so easily, even if it isn't asking a lot."

Calvin shrugged. " Just remind 'em that if they want the Quinns shut away for life, then they need to give me a little something for the trouble. I don't know how they could pass it up, I mean you gotta admit it's a sweet deal. But remember, not witness protection. Quinns aside, I don't want Danny being forced into starting a new life with a new name and that crap."

Cathy smiled, visibly relaxing. " Understood. You really care a lot about your son."

" Obviously."

Then Cathy's smile fell, and she glanced uneasily down at her hands. " I have to tell you. Mr. Messer – more like warn you – the one that'll be hard to convince will be the agent heading the investigation."

Calvin narrowed his eyes. " You mean Stevenson."

" Exactly. But, maybe, after I tell him about what you told me, he'll lighten up. The thing is, he wants your testimony, not just one piece of information. He may not relent unless he has both."

" That'd be pushing it. Hand something over's one thing, but talking's gonna get my A-- shot at, and not necessarily by the the Quinns. Plus, Danny's troubles would just be starting. Other 'acquaintances' of mine might decide to use him if things start getting a little hot for them and I've been asked to do a little more talking. I'm in a bad position here, Miss Rodriguez, you need to understand that."

She nodded, and her features were purely sympathetic. " I do. Like I told you, I know the Quinns just as well as you, and I'm not willing to sacrifice innocent lives to put them away. It'd make me no better than them. Stevenson, on the other hand... he's a little more willing. His actions speak for him. He'll do what it takes to lock the Quinns up."

" Why? Personal vendetta?"

Cathy smirked. " More like pride. You say witness protection won't work, and I'm inclined to agree with you. Agent Stevenson set someone up in the WPP, this man who had something on Al Quinn. I don't even know what that something was. Three days before trial, and the man was found hanging in his bathroom. Suicide was ruled, but no one believed it, mostly because that's the third time it happened with a witness about to testify against a Quinn. Stevenson's pissed about how easily the Quinns keep slipping into the clear. You need to be careful of him."

Calvin snorted derisively. " Preaching to the choir. Thanks all the same, though."

With a promise that Cathy would look into aiding Danny, they shook hands and Calvin left the prosecutors office. Since Calvin had never met any of Danny's coworkers or boss, he had no idea how they could be of any help. Calvin's motivation for risking speaking to Rodriguez was based souly on a deep, almost all-consuming gut feeling that Danny needed to be granted the freedom to tell someone, anyone, what was going on, even after Calvin himself had warned Danny against it. Since Calvin was the reason for this mess, Danny was pretty much alone. He needed someone to have his back, to watch out for him since Calvin was pretty much unable to.

Once on the elevator, he slammed his fist into the wall. Fury raged through him like boiling magma.

You're doin' it again, Messer. You're failing to protect your own kid. And you're the reason he's in trouble to begin with. No amount of prison time was going to change his mind on the matter or make up for it. As far as he was concerned, he was ruining Danny's life.

CSINY

Danny had to hand it to Lindsay. Her initial shock at seeing him with a massive shiner was short lived, and after a quick explanation coupled with a few questions she shifted into professional mode as though the bruises on Danny's face didn't exist. His preoccupation was another matter.

" Messer. Messer!"

Danny, who'd been staring at her list of fish names without actually reading them, snapped his head up and around to look at her. She was leaning with her latex-gloved hands on the sterile counter of the lab, and arched her eyebrows at him.

" Well?"

" Well what?"

" The fish, Danny. Anything remarkably outstanding to you about the fish, and the oyster juice, and the oil stains. Any connections beginning to process in that apparently ADHD mind of yours? Because if not, I stayed here until three in the morning processing scales, oil, and juice to pretty much pass the time."

Danny dropped the paper and glared at her. " First off, you're not done. You only have five fish named, so a little premature to be making some connections. Second off, I appreciate your dedication and sympathize with you about having to work overtime, but you don't need to jump down my throat about it. Third, no, nothing comes to mind except sea-food restaurants, and we've got plenty of those around town. Although, keep in mind – fish eggs."

" What?"

" You've got fish eggs on the list. Caviar. And Caviar plus oysters usually means a high-society joint, so that narrows it down. Unless a place wasn't involved, just a truck that was randomly borrowed. But let's stick with what we do know."

Lindsay nodded, standing straight and folding her arms. " Okay, so we're probably not going to focus on local, cheap markets."

" Unless these eggs are cheap stuff. But, yeah, I'd stick with lack of being cheap."

" Well, if this stuff is so high-priced, it would be boxed up and wrapped up pretty tight, wouldn't it? How did Gerrard get so much of it all over himself? It's like he was laying directly on all of it or something."

" Maybe he wasn't dead when he rolled in the stuff. There could have been a struggle, or he was trying to find a way out, so managed to break a few crates and cans in the process. They might have had him hold up in some freezer and he was eating this crap to stay alive. I don't know, some crap like that. Personally, I'm leaning toward a struggle. Doesn't matter how tight something's packaged, a good body-slam'll open anything."

Lindsay picked up the list. " So, should we keep identifying the rest of the scales?"

Danny lifted his good shoulder in a shrug. " Might help. Some places like to cater to particular appetites. If we can find a fish that you wouldn't normally find at most joints, then that'd narrow it down even better. And with two workin' we should get done before – I'd say – at least midnight."

Lindsay grinned. " You go home long before then."

" Okay, you'll be done before midnight... hopefully."

Lindsay shook her head, glancing down at the list, then glancing at Danny. " You all right?"

Danny furrowed his brow. " What?"

She pointed. " You're holding your side."

Danny snatched his hand away. It couldn't be a good sign if he was starting to do that subconsciously.

" Just a little sore."

" Because of what happened last night?"

" Pretty much."

Lindsay seemed to accept this, and moved over to the small fridge to collect the samples. " You know, in the time I lived here, short as it may seem, I have yet to be mugged. It was kind of the first thing I expected to happen the moment I arrived. Biased, I know, but kind of hard to ignore when your mother's always talking about it in hopes of getting you to stay."

Danny nearly smiled but had yet to feel up to giving into humor. " Just wait. Happens to everyone eventually. Fourth time for me, although the other three weren't that violent, and one of the guy's I chased down and beat after I saw that his gun was just a metal pipe."

Lindsay flashed him an incredulous look over her shoulder. She then turned and lifted a single finger. " Now that's something I can easily imagine, you chasing down your own attacker and mugging him for your own money."

Danny finally couldn't help a smile.

CSINY

Danny's heart was beating fast. He was afraid to go home; actually afraid to walk down his own block and step into his own place. It was a pathetic thing to feel, but circumstances wouldn't let him push it aside. In fact, circumstances were starting to make him consider taking a cab, not matter the traffic conditions.

Considering, but not acting upon. He refused to give in to self-consciousness just because a few weirdos had a morbid fascination with massive shiners. He wasn't going to start dictating his life around everything that was going on. Doing so would signify a loss of control on his part, an indication of irreversible change occurring against his will. It would be like giving into panic.

So no matter how mundane or insignificant the routine, holding to it gave Danny a small, comforting sense of self-control. So he took the subway, and glared coldly at anyone who stared for too long.

As usual, the car he was in was crowded, with no place to sit. He needed to either get home earlier, or convince Mac to let him stay later in order to avoid the off-work crowd. Of course, he probably would have avoided the worst part had he left at six rather than six-thirty. But he had felt bad about about leaving Lindsay to check out the last two samples, and felt even worse how his mind had kept wandering the whole time.

He needed to contact his dad, finish the conversation that had been interrupted. Despite his conviction not to get anyone else involved, the temptation to talk to someone was turning into a need. Truth be told, scared as he already was, the fear was growing even more potent. A physical attack held too many connotations, and Danny didn't want to end up with a crippled hand because each of his fingers had been broken. Hell, he didn't want to end up crippled in anyway, period. The hit and run had been a close enough call in that aspect.

He needed someone to watch his back.

The train wound down to a halt, and the doors slid open. People began crowding off and Danny became caught up in the flow, wincing and murmuring a few favorite curse words with each jarring of his frame. Yet another reason he was considering cabs.

Danny was five feet from the door when a woman yelped, a man cussed, and a body collided into Danny's back. He felt a sharp pain in his bad shoulder at the impact, and snapped out a curse for everyone to hear.

" Son of bitch, What the hell!" he practically snarled, glaring over his shoulder at the young man bundled in a scarf, coat and black cap.

" Watch where you're going," the man who had cursed joined in.

" Oh, sorry, man. Crap! I am so sorry," the kid apologized, then righted himself by pushing on Danny's back - on the more tender side.

" Get off of me!" Danny barked when the pain ripped through him like wild fire.

" Dude, sorry!" came the kid's indignant reply.

Danny hurried away from the klutzy kid and off of the train. Once out, he leaned against a pillar momentarily to catch his breath and allow the pain to abate into a dull throb.

" You okay, man?" The voice was familiar; the man who'd cussed just as loud as Danny. He turned his head to look at the gray haired man in the gray overcoat carrying a brief-case. Adjacent to him was a young Asian woman in a lavender coat eying Danny in concern – most likely the woman who had yelped.

Danny nodded. " Yeah." He spread the fingers of his throbbing arm. " Just got snagged in a bad spot. I'll be fine in a minute."

The business man shook his head in disgust. " That kid was kockin' into everyone. I'd check to make sure you got your wallet."

Danny smiled wanly. " In my bag."

The man continued on, and the woman stepped up. " Need any help?"

Danny shook his head. " Naw. Got it covered. Thanks."

Then she moved on as well.

The klutz was no where in sight, probably long gone with everyone's wallet.

When the pain became only an annoying ache, Danny followed suit of the two concerned citizens and went on his way. He tensed on stepping outside into the frigid air that hurt to breathe, and that tension reawakened a small burning stab of pain in Danny's shoulder. But his mind was too preoccupied with keeping an eye on his surroundings to care. Though the sidewalks were made very public with so many heading home, it didn't stop Danny's heart from lurching every time someone in a dark coat walked past, or when someone shouted to someone else from a distance.

Arriving home was even worse. He turned his head every which way, flinching when he heard a door shut. The elevator took only a second to open but felt like five minutes, and once on he immediately had the doors slide shut without checking to see if anyone else wanted on, though there was no one else around. After reaching his floor, he stood in front of his own door for two minutes before finally slipping the key into the lock and opening it. He entered slowly, straining his ears for the slightest sound and catching the distinct murmur of his neighbor's TV.

He set down his bag, slipped of his coat, then checked every room, including his closet and under his bed. He ended at the fridge, having saved it for last since it seemed to be drawing all the negative attention. He found no note, and inside the shelves were still devoid of food.

For once, Danny was able to let out a breath of relief. He wasn't dumb enough to actually believe the Quinns had backed off, but he could at least allow himself a moment of reprise from worry, and bask in any lack of incident.

He dropped himself onto his couch, and clenched his jaw when his shoulder burned. Not his usual pain since it was supposed to be more like a throb or a dull cramp. What he felt now was almost like a pinched nerve. He couldn't blame the kid, though. Crowded subways were always precarious to maneuver through.

Still, a face to face apology would have been the decent thing to do.

Danny tilted his head back, which had begun to pulse uncomfortably. He needed to order in, and call his dad, yet at the moment didn't have the energy or the desire to move. He just let himself go numb, and allowed his thoughts to wander incoherently until he became lost in their surrealism. Rambling images created a nice effect that let him forget everything else, including any pain he was feeling. He observed Lindsay with a can of caviar she had brought to the lab for some reason, but couldn't open it. Danny tried, but another lid appeared beneath the first because the can was 'double sealed to lock in freshness.' The problem was, once he got it open, it was only to discover that the can was not caviar but already cooked hamburger. Then came a loud pounding...

Danny snapped his head up and blinked blearily, but the pounding continued. He slipped his hand beneath his glasses and rubbed his eyes. " Freakin' dreams." He winced when the pounding sounded again.

" Hold on!" he snapped, and pushed himself with a moan to his feet. He forced his sluggish legs to move, and his even more sluggish brain to pull itself from the mire it was floundering in. He groped for the lock and flipped it, then yanked the door open.

Two men stood outside the entry, but Danny only noticed one of them as his brain shot out of the mire into full reality and his heart slammed against his sternum.

Jack Quinn smiled. " Hey Danny. You gonna invite us in or what?"

CSINY

A/N: Oh! It's the vile, voracious, villainous cliffhanger! Will it never end? Mmmmmm, not for a while, no. Still lots more to occur. Lots more Danny abuse in store. (Danny's going to come after me if I'm not careful. Boy I can't wait!) Though I must say it's going to be somewhat mild up until the end (in comparison to what I have in store for the end, I mean). I always save the best for last.

I would like to thank everyone for their lovely comments, especially Dybdahl. Your comments amuse me you sick, twisted Danny fan you. What is it about our favorite characters getting hurt that's just so dang – hot?

Also, inquiry. I was going to have Danny bring his gun home, but then it got me thinking; If the characters do take public transportation home, like the subway, would they bring their guns? I'm assuming (especially in this day and age with security becoming so tight everywhere) that it would be a hassle for them should the gun be found or if there's metal detectors and such. Just a thought. It's why I didn't mention Danny having his gun on him if anyone was wondering.