Chapter Four: Kicking
"Wow. They are really meant to be together, aren't they?" Eva asked with dreamy eyes. I am sure that her teenage mind was picturing a happily-ever-after story in the next chapter with Danny and Lindsay riding off into the sunset together.
"In a sense, yes; they were meant to be together. But, you see, things don't always work out as planned…" I trailed off, recalling what had happened one night years ago.
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I rubbed my eyes and yawned. There was no plausible way that I could still be awake. I came into the lab at 7 o'clock that morning. Glancing at my watch, I groaned inwardly. It was almost 10pm. This was one heck of a long day. I reviewed my case once more, making sure that every nook and cranny was searched. A dead middle-school student, stabbed in the back, found lying in a hallway by one of his peers. So far that day, Flack's interrogation attempts had yielded little to no results, which was making my job even harder. I was stuck in a rut with no way to get out, so I kept pouring myself over every photograph of the crime scene. My thoughts were interrupted by the escalation of a conversation coming from around the corner. Deciding to take a break from work, I walked outside to examine what was going on. It seemed that Stella couldn't concentrate either, and we both made our way to door of the break room where the voices were arguing inside.
"Oh, so now you're going to be jealous because I flirted a little bit with someone? Don't even get me started on how many people you have hit on during the last month!"
"We were at a crime scene for God's sake! He could have been a potential suspect, and you were hitting on him!"
"God, you are such a hypocrite! What? You don't want to see me have fun once in a while? Because you sure as heck like to have fun flirting with other women, so I see no reason why I can't be smile at a guy every now and then."
"I'm not saying that you can't have fun every once in a while Montana, but you were hitting on him at our crime scene…"
"He is my boyfriend! Okay? Are you satisfied? Yes, it is possible that I, Lindsay Monroe, actually have a boyfriend, who happened to want to surprise me at work. Sure, his timing wasn't the best because I was working at a scene, but at least he was considerate, which is more than I can say of you right now! And now, if you will excuse me, my shift is ended, and I really ought to be getting home."
"Sure Montana. You go home to your boyfriend, alright? Just go." Danny's voice was cold, and I could see Lindsay's hurt face as she left without another word. Danny cursed under his breath and left the room, heading the opposite direction.
Stella and I faced each other.
"Coffee?" she offered feebly, and we both made our way to the machine. I sat down at the break room table and shook my brunette hair out of my face. Stella let out a sigh.
"Well, that was awkward," I admitted after a moment of pondering. Stella's mouth twitched. Sometimes the only way to make sense of a tough situation is to make a joke.
"I don't get it," Stella said, placing her cup down on the table. "I always thought that they got along alright. I mean, sure, Danny does get under her skin, but he does that to all of us. I just always thought that they were closer than," she flings her arms in the direction of the door, "that."
I don't know why, but at that moment, I took the time to tell Stella of what had happened a few months earlier, with Lindsay's break-down at the pizza place. Stella nodded along, occasionally sipping her coffee.
"So, you and I are in the same boat," I explained, sipping my coffee, "We both just don't get it." We sat in silence for a few more minutes as I listened to the humming of the few people in the lab who were on speaking terms with each other. Stella's eyebrows furrowed for a moment and then she smiled, realization dawning on her.
"I get it."
"You do?"
"It's a shame that what they know best is what they know least," Stella said with a mischievous smile.
"Good God Stella, you sound like a talking fortune cookie. Next thing you know, you'll be spouting off parables or prophecies…" I said with a light laugh. She looked at me, rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless.
"What are Danny and Lindsay best at?" she asked slowly. I felt like I was being treated like a two-year old who didn't understand the concept that one apple plus one apple equals two apples. Shaking away any ADD thoughts, I concentrated.
"Oh! They're good at solving crimes…interpreting the evidence. Following clues, that kind of thing," I stated with enthusiasm. I think I deserved a cookie for that one.
"Yes. And why do you think that following the evidence is what they know least of all?" Stella asked with the same evil-genius look in her eyes. I pondered slightly for a moment.
"Because they…because they can't see what's in front of them! Stupid myopic CSIs…" I said with a shake of my head. Stella laughed at my last comment. Suddenly, I grinned, and drummed my fingers together. "You know that when you are myopic, you often need a good kick in the rear," I stated matter-of-factly.
"Yes. What's your point?" Stella asked, mildly confused. My green eyes must have been sparkling at that moment with glee.
"Put on your best boots Stella. We've got some kicking to do."
