Disclaimer: I don't own anybody in this story.
Author's note: Okay, it's cheesy. Don't be afraid to say it. Only a few more chapters. I was on a mission today, that's why you're getting two chapters. Please R&R. Even negative reviews are welcome!
Chapter 17
"This is weird, Stella. Way weird."
Stella Bonasera nodded at Danny's assessment. They were standing inside the Upper West Side apartment of Andrew Clemenski, an accountant at a big brokerage firm downtown. His apartment was spacious and very square - literally. There were no couches, only perfectly square chairs, situated around square coffee tables, grouped around square area rugs. The shape was everywhere - all the man's dishes and glasses were square as well. A house of boxes, she thought.
Clemenski had been discovered by his sister, Mary Anne O'Donnell, who became worried when he didn't arrive for his usual visit with their mother. He was laying on his bed, which was - you guessed it - square. His hand dangled off the bed, and an open pill box lay below his fingers, as well as several pills. They were also square.
"His sister said he was obsessed with boxes and squares," Danny noted. "I think that's fairly obvious."
"You think?" Stella asked, eyebrows raised. The two processed the scene, and Clemenski was taken away to be autopsied by Hammerbeck. Danny and Stella later went to Johnson & Moore, the firm the victim worked for, to continue their investigation. As soon as they entered the reception area, Danny could see a problem.
"Uh -oh," he murmured. The décor was dominated by rounded shapes. There wasn't a sharp corner in sight. And from the looks of it, the new scheme was new. Soon, Clemenski's boss, Rosalind Johnson, one of the partners, came to greet them.
"This is about Andrew, isn't it? I feel terrible, just terrible," she said, leading them into her office.
"So, this look you've got goin' here, is it new?" Danny asked.
"Yes, and I'm sure you know by now it disturbed Andrewgreatly. I feel just awful. I had no idea it bothered him this much."
"You were aware of Andrew's problems?" Stella queried.
"Well, of course we knew of his love of squares and boxes, but we had no idea he was this obsessed - we only found out recently he was mildly autistic. We figured it wouldn't be a problem to change our look - I mean we can't dictate everything based on one employee - especially since we allowed Andrew to keep his office the way he wanted. I guess we were wrong. He was off for a week and came back to this.
"He went off the deep end. Just kept saying, 'no, no, no'. He told us he couldn't work here and left. I called his sister, and she said not to worry, she would see him soon. Then we heard about … what happened."
Danny and Stella couldn't find anyone in the company that had an issue with Andrew Clemenski, other than thinking he was a bit weird. He did his job well, and never tried to advance. He seemed happy in his ordered little world and kept to himself. Further investigation revealed his anti-anxiety medication had also changed their shape to circular tablets, and efforts to change his medication left him feeling out of sorts. Then Stella got a call from Hammerbeck, who said he was ruling the death a suicide.
"I guess poor Andrew never learned to step outside of the box," Danny murmured as he and Stella drove back to the lab.
"Danny! That's not funny," Stella said, glaring at him.
"I wasn't trying to be funny Stel, I was just thinking," Danny said. "We find our way in life by learning to cope with change. Those who can't step out out of the boxes life builds around them often don't succeed, you know?"
Stella looked at him quizzically, a bit confused, but let the subject drop. Danny appeared lost in thought, and for some reason, she thought it might have something to do with Lindsay.
The Clemenski case was closed, and Mac let Danny take the rest of the day off. He noticed the younger man's brooding and, in light of his improved job performance, decided he had earned a break.
Lindsay arrived back at the lab a couple of hours after Danny left. She and Hawkes were working on the case of a dead prostitute. Her pimp, or "business partner," as Isaiah Brookins liked to call himself - looked to be the perpetrator, and she was waitin for evidence to come back from DNA. In the locker room, she found a note from Danny sticking out of her locker.
Hey -
Mac let me go home early. Come by for dinner? See you around 6.
D.
She smiled. The crime scene was bad today - Joanna Washington had been bludgeoned to death - and a relaxing evening with Danny was just what the doctor ordered.
Around 6:30 p.m. Lindsay knocked on Danny's door. He answered, smiling at her. He gave her a distracted kiss, then grabbed her hand as he pushed past her into the hallway. "C'mon you. We're goin' up to the roof."
When they arrived, Lindsay saw that Danny had laid out a large quilt set with plates, silverware, wine, and wrapped sandwiches. "Schwartz Deli! My favorite. This is just what I needed." Lindsay wasted no time in tearing into her corned beef and Swiss on rye. She hadn't eaten since noon, and was sointo her food that it took her awhile to note that Danny was unnaturally quiet.
"Something on your mind, city boy?" she asked teasingly.
"I was just thinkin' about my case today," he said, going on to tell her the strange tale of Andrew Clemenski. "It seemed to me his story was an exaggerated version of a lot of other's people's lives. You know,those who can't move past the walls they've built around themselves, can't step outta the box."
Danny had moved to the ledge, and was leaning against it, looking at her intently. Lindsay joined him. "It's sad, but I can see your point. As humans, we need to accept change, sometimes embrace it, but it's tough."
"Story of my life," Danny said, smiling ruefully. "For me, the difference has always been the people that helped me step outta my boxes, over my walls. Did I ever tell you how I became a CSI?"
"Well, I know you wanted to do the opposite of Louie - you didn't want a life outside of the law."
"That's why I decided on law enforcement, but my CSI story actually begins back in high school. My grades sucked, and by that time, the teachers gave up on me, except for one, Mr. Heinrich. He was my chemistry teacher. Anyways, I got in trouble one day cuz I mixed the chemicals in this one asshole's beaker - he picked on this friend of mine for being fat - so that when he followed the directions of our assignment and added this other stuff, it would start smoking'.
"I was expecting to get expelled or somethin', but instead Mr. Heinrich made me stay after school for a coupla weeks. He made me work on projects with him, and I found a kinda liked it. One day he told me, 'You got a knack for this Danny, get your head outta your ass and you could be something.' Anyways, it stuck with me and I started working hard in school. The change in grades gor me accepted into the academy. I moved past everyone's expectations, all cuz he believed in me. One box gone."
Lindsay smiled. "That's a great story, Danny."
"There's more.At the academy, I didn't know what I wanted to do. Homicide? Drugs? Who knew? Then one day, I went to this special seminar on criminal investigation. This guy from Las Vegas, Gil Grissom, was leading it. He was telling us this case of a dead man in a blind guy's apartment. The blind guy said he shot him on accident - heard a noise and shot out of fear. Grissom was asking us if we had other ideas. Then he called on me. Ithought about this string he had mentioned being near the door. I guessed the blind guy - he hated the victim - had tied the string to a place near the door, and stood on the other end of the string across with room with his gun, using the string to guide his shot.
"Anyways, turns out I was right, and Grissom spoke to me after, encouraging me to look into CSI. Said I had a way of looking past the obvious. Another box I hopped out of, and here I am."
"Here you are …" Lindsay murmured, kissing him deeply. Danny enjoyed the moment, but pulled away. Damn, it's hard to stay on track with her and those lips!
"Yeah, but there was one more box - my relationships with women. See, I didn't think I was good enough to be in a serious one, so I played Casanova, making sure none of the girls I was with expected more. Then I met you, and I was reminded that, with the help of special people, those you love, you can keep opening boxes and moving past them. You broke through the walls I built around me, the ones created by myself and every person that said I could never be trusted."
Lindsay touched his cheek, smiling fondly at this new, philosophical Danny. "You broke through my walls, too, Danny. Now we can move on."
"Well actually …" Danny reached into his pocket. "There's one more box we need to open." He handed her the black velvet box from his Grandma.
Lindsay reached out, hands trembling, and took the box. She opened it to find the most beautiful diamond ring. The antique setting enhanced the simple beauty of the stone - it was perfect.
"Danny …" she breathed.
"You know, over 60 years ago, my Grandpa was a bit of a Casanova, too. Family said he would never marry. Then one day he saw this ring in a little shop in Florence and it hit him like a thunderbolt. He knew he would find the right woman, the one to help him out of his boxes, break down his walls. And he was right. And so was my Grandma, when she saved this ring for me. She knew someday I would find the right person to wear it."
Lindsay gasped when Danny sank down on one knee, blue eyes looking searchinglyinto her brown ones. "So how 'bout it, Montana. Marry me?"
Tears sprang into Lindsay's eyes as she went down on her knees to face him. "I love you, Danny. I just don't want my history to …"
He stopped her with a gentle finger to her lips. "Just another box, Lindsay, as flimsy as cardboard. We'll face it all together, Lindsay, just say yes."
Tears spilled as Lindsay began to nod vigorously. "Yes, Danny, yes … I'll marry you …"
Anything else she planned to say were cut off by Danny's lips, as he kissed his future bride thoroughly, reveling in the thought that this was something he could do every day for the rest of his life. He paused only to slip the ring onto her finger, and thank God for his gift of Montana.
TBC
