A/N: I apologize profusely for the late, late posting of this chapter. No worries, my computer is still functioning. I'd made the mistake of working on two stories at the same time, alternating between them. It was driving me crazy. So I put CSI aside for a tidge since story number two was almost done and I wanted to finish it. Now that it's out of the way, I can focus more on Danny and his plight. Again, apologies. Never work on two stories at the same time, they tend to start fighting.

Ch. 12

" Does he look all right to you?" Stella twitched her head a centimeter in Mac's direction, but her eyes remained fixed on Danny through the windows of the break room. The younger male CSI was sitting heavily at the table across from Lindsay, and as she talked, he listened, nodding every now and then. He had only made one fourth of a dent in his sandwich and it appeared that he was not going to attempt lifting it again any time soon.

" Stella, don't take offense, but since when did you become all mother hen?"

Stella pulled her reluctant gaze away from Danny to give Mac a heavy-lidded glare. Mac was smirking at her, ever so slightly. Never one for full blown grins – Mac. Subtle ways meant subtle expressions. Still, it was enough to irk even Stella.

" Since I watched one of our team get mutilated by a phantom car."

Mac arched his eyebrows. " I assumed as much. I just wanted to make sure you're aware of what you're doing."

" And that is...?"

" Mother henning."

" Is that even a word?"

The smirk returned. " It is now." Then he dropped the grin, and turned his own gaze to Danny-watching. " He looks... pale, tired. And I have good reason to suspect he isn't eating like he should be."

Stella folded her arms and shook her head. " What gave it away? His barely touched lunch." They weren't close enough to the window to be noticed by Danny right off, not with all the people passing by in between. Stella felt almost invisible, and the notion made her squirm.

Mac Says mother hen. I say guardian angel. Either way, Danny's gonna hate it if he finds out.

" I'm telling you, Mac. Something isn't right," she said.

" Is that your professional opinion talking, or lingering concern? You do know about your own die-hard protective streak, don't you?"

Stella looked at him oddly. " What?"

Mac returned her gaze, smirk-free. " You're protective, Stella. It's one of the traits I admire about you, but not if it's going to become a distraction. I know what happened to Danny was a nightmare, but he survived and he's healing. He doesn't need anyone hovering over him, making sure it doesn't happen again. It would only piss him off."

Stella looked back at Danny and lifted one shoulder in an uncertain shrug. " I"m sorry, it's just... the first day he came in after sick leave... something just didn't feel right. When Danny was in the hospital I was talking to this doctor about accidents, infections, stuff like that. He said that, sometimes, after going through the kind of crap Danny went through, people tended to experience some depression, even a few phobias..." She shook her head, crossing her arms in front of her. " I don't know what it is, Mac. It's like I can't get it into my head that he's right there, right in front of me. All I keep seeing when I close my eyes is him lying on the ground..." she faltered on the description. " I see the accident."

" Have you talked with anyone about it?"

" Yeah, I did the counseling thing. I'm not sure if it's helping. Mac, what I saw happen to Danny... It was practically unnatural. A logical piece of me keeps arguing that he shouldn't be alive."

" So, one might say, you're still in shock."

Stella pursed her lips. " Maybe. Crap... I just... I wanted to do something so bad, stop the bleeding. But I couldn't. I – I didn't want to put my hand on the wound. I didn't want to feel... I didn't want to feel his bones. So, I just watched him bleed."

" Guilt trips don't do anyone any good. You stayed by his side, had someone call in back-up, and were there at the hospital giving information. Besides, with the wound Danny got, it would have taken more than a hand or a rag to stop the bleeding."

She sighed. " I know." Too bad guilt couldn't take the hint. But then so went the ways of those witnesses doubling as saviors, there was always more they wished they could have done, even long after the fact.

Maybe watching Danny wasn't an act of protection. Maybe she was just being selfish, waiting to see that moment when Danny's old spark returned and he was himself again. Maybe she wanted everything to go back to the way it had been so that she could pretend the hit and run had never happened. Seemed a logical enough reason. Discomfort knotted her guts every time she saw Danny – thin, subdued and quiet. Observing him now, Danny had yet to smile at Lindsay, even when Lindsay grinned. No joking, no teasing, no feline smirks; it was as though someone had finally beaten Danny down, broken him, took what was left of him and reformed him into his own antithesis.

It was as though the whole hit and run deal wasn't even over.

" I still say something's wrong," she said.

" Want me to talk to him?"

She shrugged. " Doubt it would do any good. Has Danny been to counseling?"

" I'm not sure. Someone came to talk to him in the hospital. After that he talked about going to one or two sessions. Now I don't know."

Stella looked at Mac warily. " You're not making him go?"

" I just said he went. Keeping the sessions going is his business."

Stella looked back at Danny. Lindsay had finished her lunch, and the two were now gathering their trash to toss it into the can. Stella didn't miss the wince Danny made on rising. She needed to talk to him, see if she couldn't scrape up the reasoning behind her concern. The only problem was getting Danny to talk without him realizing what the conversation was really about. Danny hated pity, and if he ever found out that Stella was 'mother-henning' him, he'd try to avoid talking to her for a while – not out of spite, she knew, but more out of discomfort.

Stella wasn't one for comfort speeches, anyway.

Danny and Lindsay left the break room. Now wasn't the time for talk.

So just when is?

CSINY

" Did Mac really give you the thumbs up to do this?" Lindsay asked as she negotiated the CSI issued vehicle through the streets. She hated driving cars that were loaners, renters, or work issued. It was not that she was a bad driver (her near spotless record say for a few tickets attested to it) but being behind the wheel of a vehicle that wasn't hers added to the burden of driving without a hitch. Add to that trying to find her way through the streets of New York - a practical maze for those you lived there and a still uncharted realm for her - and her nerve-endings felt ready to pop like fire-crackers.

Then there was Danny, who up until now had been under headquarter arrest.

So help me, Danny, if you just manipulated me, I'll break your other arm. It was a harsh thought, but Lindsay was not in the mood to play nice, not if Danny was messing with her just to get his way.

" I asked him," Danny replied. " Told him I could help out on finding the kind of restaurant or whatever we're looking for, and he said fine. It's not like we're goin' on a hiking trip through New York. Just show me the area you and Stell checked out, and I'll scope what restaurants look ripe for a warrant."

" So what makes you so expert on caviar and restaurants?"

" My dad. He's acquainted with a lot of people with money to burn, and they tend to do business lunch's where there's caviar and crap like that. I just had the misfortune of being dragged along half the time. Went in hungry, came out hungry. Places like that aren't too big on kid's menus."

" And that makes you expert?"

" A little."

" But enough for Mac to give you to go-ahead?"

Danny shrugged his good shoulder. " Apparently."

When they stopped at a light, Lindsay took the opportunity to look over at Danny. Nothing about his posture or expression disclosed that he was lying – or twisting the truth. He was relaxed to the point that he seemed ready to fall asleep. He was staring out the window with an unfocused gaze, watching everything but registering nothing. She could drive out of New York itself and he probably wouldn't notice. He wasn't in the right frame of mind to be manipulative.

She hadn't known Danny that long, and her basic opinion of him was that he was annoying – or at least very good at being annoying. But he was also professional, which aided her tolerance of him. She had worked with worse – sexists, infatuates – neither of which described Danny. He was more like an obnoxious brother, but obnoxious brother she could deal with. Danny was a tease, but not derogatory about it. Being the new girl, slight hazing was to be expected, and what Danny dished out was very much in her means to handle. Plus, Stella had said that Danny didn't mind the occasional physical reaction – a slap on the arm or a jerk of the elbow to the ribs. Not a bad deal, really.

Not that she would ever admit it out loud – and at times tried not to think about it – but Danny could be kind of cute when he was being clever.

Lindsay didn't know what to make of Danny's recent silent state of being. She was used to bracing herself for an onslaught of teasing, now she just felt awkward. It was similar to those situations of silence in which it was felt that something needed to be said, yet no one could figure out what to say.

More like Lindsay couldn't figure out what to say, except ask for the third time if Danny was telling the truth about Mac letting him do some outdoor investigating. Since she was already on edge, the silence in between her hassling him was adding itself to her mound of irritation. Prodding him was her form of taking her frustration out on him, and she felt bad about it. It wasn't his fault that he was acting opposite to what she was used to. The guy was still hurt, and for all she knew whatever pain medication he had taken was probably starting to wear off.

Although, she had to wonder whether Danny had put on an act to convince Mac to let him do this. Danny looked thoroughly exhausted, and the lack of color in his face darkened the shadows under his eyes and the lingering bruises. No way would Mac have let him go if he saw him now.

" Fine, but if you pass out, you're the one who Mac gets to chew up and spit out. I refuse to be involved."

" Sure thing," Danny replied.

When they came to another red light, Lindsay did another glance. " Danny, if you're sick – or getting sick – I will make you wish you never came into work today. I am not going to be your babysitter."

Danny didn't say anything, or even look at her. Lindsay's jaw dropped.

" You are sick, aren't you! Mac is going to have your ass...!"

" I'm tired!" Danny snapped above her tirade. " Chill, Montana, I'm just tired. I didn't sleep good last night. All right? Is that okay with you? I'm not infectious or anything."

Lindsay flinched in surprise. Until now, she had never heard Danny use his nickname for her in conjunction with such a heated, angry tone.

" Sorry," she said, pathetically attempting to sound affronted.

" That's okay," Danny replied, pushing himself up to sit a little straighter. " You're worried, I'm tired, it's no big deal. I just didn't want to sit around the lab all day."

" Why didn't you stay home, try to get some better rest?"

" At the moment, that's not any better. I've got some stuff going on. Kind of makes it hard to relax."

" Oh." The awkwardness returned, this time vengefully.

Great, let's pour a little salt on a few wounds, Lindsay. She didn't know him well enough to ask him to elaborate, let alone offer helpful words or aid. But at least she had an explanation for why Danny was acting the way he was.

Thankfully, the unease of the situation was interrupted when they arrived at their destination. It wasn't so much a single place as a series of street blocks lined by various stores.

" This is it," Lindsay said. " You know, this really is a long shot. For all we know, the place we're looking for is half-way across town. Would the killers really choose a place so close to their own business to dump a body?"

" As a matter of convenience, yeah, especially if a vehicle like a company truck was involved. You'd want to get it back and get it cleaned as soon as possible. Even if what we're looking for isn't a restaurant but like some place where they keep a truck or the fish we're looking for, it's still gotta be around here somewhere."

" Good point. So, how should we do this? Driving, walking...?" she looked Danny over carefully. " It's pretty cold out. Plus we still don't know what we're looking for."

Danny craned his neck to observe their surroundings. " Traffic's not bad around here. Let's drive, see what looks worth checking out."

Though Lindsay would have loved putting the car in park, it still wasn't quite worth going into the cold for. She recalled – from coming with Stella - where a few restaurants were located, plus warehouses where sea-food might be housed before distribution.

" I think Stella and I saw three sea-food places," she said. " Four Chinese, two all you-can-eats, and two that looked like the kind of places you described – the ones that cater to every appetite."

Danny nodded thoughtfully. " Let's focus on the sea-food and the last two places you mentioned."

" Good, because they're actually en route of eachother."

The first sea-food place they came upon, Danny told Lindsay to just keep going. She had assumed it to be one of the high-society establishments Danny had talked of, and had been about to pull up to it. It wasn't crowded, had a fancy name written in fancy script, and she was able to catch a glimpse of a waiter decked out in a kind of tuxedo with a red jacket.

" Look at the people going in," Danny said. She did, and saw nothing that struck her as out of the ordinary. Families, couples, friends... normal patrons of a normal restaurant.

" They wearin' suits or anything?" Danny asked. Lindsay shrugged.

" I don't know, I wasn't paying attention to what they were wearing."

" Half the crowd going in was wearing jeans. Places that serve caviar don't usually sport client el wearing denim, unless they're eccentric or something."

" But even you weren't sure if the caviar came from a restaurant or a store."

Danny nodded. " True, but if it is from a restaurant, it's going to be the kind people have to dress up to get into."

The second sea-food place they actually did stop at. The name alone - something French that Lindsay couldn't read because of the flowing jointed script that was overdone in her opinion - was enough to have Lindsay pull over and Danny assent to it. The people going in were very well dressed as though just coming in off work for a business dinner. Danny and Lindsay didn't go in themselves, just requested a menu from the maitre'd, plus the name of the person or people who owned the place.

" Just trying to find the right place for our reception," Danny had told the man who was eying Danny as though he were a vagrant trying to bum change. Internally, Lindsay seethed. Outside she forced a smile on her face like the happy bride she was pretending to be. Once back in the car, she shot Danny a withering look.

Danny shrugged. " I don't think he would have been as helpful if we flashed our badges. Besides, receptions mean big bucks. The guy was practically drooling about it the moment I said the words and he stopped staring at my face."

Again, Lindsay saw no indications that Danny was messing with her. Her second opinion of Danny was that he was someone to watch out for. His ability to keep a straight face and sound dead-pan serious was uncanny.

" Name of the owner didn't ring a bell though," he said next.

" Should it have?"

" Maybe, if Gerrard's death is mob related."

At the next street after passing a shopping complex that seemed expensive just to look at, they neared the next restaurant on Lindsay's mental list. But instead of pulling up to it, she parked at the nearest unoccupied meter.

" What gives?" Danny asked.

" This place has valet parking. No offense to the convenience of someone else parking your car, but I kind of have a problem with other people touching something that's CSI property. That and it's not like we're staying or anything."

Danny smiled his first smile since he came into work that morning. The two of them stepped out into the gray, frost-bitten day with their breath rising up in snaking wisps of smoke. Danny visibly shivered.

" You all right in this?" Lindsay asked.

" I'll live."

They headed up the sidewalk to the restaurant where people matching Danny's description of the type who would frequent such places entered and exited beneath a bright red canopy. Limousines and cars that looked to cost several years of Lindsay's salary pulled in then out in an almost continuous flow. A white limousine was next in line, and when the occupant slid out from the warm interior, Lindsay's steps slowed to a stop.

" Hey, that's that rapper that got shot at last year. I thought he was dead. Guess not."

" Ah son of a bitch!"

Lindsay whirled around to give Danny a narrow-eyed look. But Danny wasn't staring at the supposedly dead rapper. He was staring at the name of the restaurant – Cassio's – and Lindsay actually witnessed the remaining color drain from his face. He began backing up as though confronted by something that terrified him, but knowing better than to run which would draw attention to himself.

" Danny, what is it?" Lindsay asked, following and glancing periodically over her shoulder. She wasn't sure whether she should also be afraid or shake Danny out of whatever stupor he was in.

Danny turned, hunching his good shoulder as if trying to hide his face, and muttering curse after curse.

" Danny?" She had to quicken her pace to catch up with him. By the time she did, he was already getting back into the car.

Lindsay, lost in a confusion that was slowly inching toward panic, hurried to the driver's side and slid in. When she looked at Danny she froze. He was hunched down in his seat, breathing hard, pale, and trembling.

" Danny..."

" We gotta go, now."

" But..."

" Lindsay, just start this car and head back. I need to talk to Mac. I can't be here, I need to be taken off this case."

" What...?"

Danny looked at Lindsay, but rather than being angry or irritated, he appeared desperate, even scared.

" Lindsay, please, just get out of here now. I can't explain it, I can't talk about it. Just trust me when I say that I really shouldn't be here right now."

Lindsay nodded, not yet panicking, but finally – thoroughly - frightened herself. " Um, yeah, okay Danny." She put the key in the ignition and started the car up, pulling away to do a U-turn, letting the restaurant shrink away in the rear-view mirror.

CSINY

A/N: The time draweth near! Soon, soon all shall be revealed to Mac. And soon, things will get much, much worse.