-1Disclaimer: I don't own CSI: NY or its characters.

Author's note: I'm planting the seeds … thanks for reading and for your support. Girls, ever meet a Rich Cauffield? Perfect in every way except in your heart? Comments are welcome ...

CHAPTER 12

Lindsay Monroe

Paperwork was tedious and traffic horrible, so I didn't make it home until 7:30. A whole half hour to get ready for my first post-Danny date. Can't really count Sheldon … we were "buddies" for one night. You know old adage: Friends are friends, pals are pals, but buddies sleep together? Ha! No more, though. Nicole and Sheldon, sitting in a tree ... I hum to myself as I head to the closet.

So Mr. Attorney, what is your pleasure? Overtly sexy? Demure? Casual? Funky? Well, number one is more leopard girl, and I'm not going there. Demure just says wimpy to me, can't be too casual at the Concord, and I never learned funky in Montana, so … I finally settle on some figure-hugging black pinstripe pants and a red asymmetrical halter. Gold hoops and a flirty updo. I check my reflection and add lip gloss. Not bad.

I rush into the lobby at 8:32 and see Rich relaxing at the bar. He looks good - navy blue slacks, lighter blue shirt unbuttoned at the collar. His hair, without the benefit of the gel he used to slick it back earlier - likely his corporate look - was thick and curly. Hmmm … could be a promising evening.

I walk up to his shoulder. "Hey."

He turned around, and the smile on his face tells me my hurried efforts were not for naught - he's pleased. "Lindsay … you look wonderful. Thanks for meeting me." He stands until I settle next to him.

"What would you like?"

"Amaretto sour." I say - it's the only mixed drink I can tolerate. He orders that and straight McCallum scotch.

He smiles at me again. "I was worried you'd turn me down."

"Because of the case? Well, it's already settled - you know Geddy plead out."

"Yes, but I actually thought you and Det. Messer …"

He trails off, probably because of the surprise on my face and the downward cast of my eyes. "I'm sorry," Rich murmurs. "It's none of my business."

What the hell, might as well put it out there. "We were involved at one time, but it's over."

He seems relieved at my finality, and we move on to lighter topics. I tell him about my life in Montana and why I moved to New York. He tells me of his beginnings as a high-level litigator working for a medical insurance company.

"I felt like I lost my soul bit by bit with each case," he said, looking down. "These poor people only wanted the benefits promised them. I left after eight months, went into contract law. I deal with some greed - see Mr. Geddy - but my job is usually pretty straight forward, no sleazy lawyer-joke stuff."

I smile sympathetically. "Don't be so hard on yourself, at least you left. And thanks to you, a killer's behind bars."

We talk well into the night, and we leave the bar shortly after 1 a.m. He walks me to my car and opens my door for me. I turn and smile at him. "Thank you for a lovely evening."

Rich smiles. "Maybe we can do it again? Dinner maybe?"

I nod, and am not surprised when he leans in, placing a gentle kiss on my lips. I respond, and he pulls me closer, deepening the kiss. A moment later he gives me another hug and I get into the car.

"See you soon, Lindsay," he says, his smile warm with promise.

I brood as I drive home. Rich Cauffield was charming, intelligent, thoughtful and undeniably attractive. So why was it I felt nothing when he kissed me?

Sheldon Hawkes

Monday morning is as bright and sunny as my mood. Nicole and I spent the weekend together. It's sounds cheesy, but we spent Saturday flying kites in Central Park. It was fun to relax and feel like a kid again - she brings that out in me. We ate at a cute Italian restaurant by her house, and went to Cozy's for some smooth jazz.

When I said goodnight at her door, I kissed her, then took my leave. On Sunday we saw a Broadway matinee - a revival of Carousel. She loves musicals. A night of dancing followed and I again said good-bye at her door. I'm sure she's wondering why I haven't made the big move - you know, trying to get her in the sack - but I owe it to her and myself to take things slowly. I'm still avoiding Faith's calls, but haven't been able to bring myself to cut her off for good.

It will happen, and soon, I tell myself. Luckily for me, Nicole seems to understand - our conversations have led me to believe she's been hurt in the past, and doesn't mind the leisurely pace I've set.

I arrive at work only to be quickly dispatched to a suspected gang shooting in east Harlem. I grin as Mac sends Lindsay to join me. "You're chipper today," she says as we slide into my Explorer.

"Great weekend." I fill her in on the particulars. She chuckles.

"You'd better make a move, Sheldon, she might think you're gay."

I laugh in response. "Well … I could have you set her straight." I earn a slap on the back of my head, but she smiles.

"Hey, I wasn't the only one with weekend plans. What happened with the attorney?"

"It was nice!"

"Nice? There's a but in there."

"No, no buts. He was really great - very good-looking, polite …"

"Sounds like a well-mannered golden retriever." Another smack, harder this time.

"I had a great time. Now leave me alone!"

I sigh. Somehow I think there's only one man who could evoke a more passionate response from Lindsay Monroe, and his name is Danny Messer.

We get to our destination and work the case, which is a mess. The man - boy, really, looks about 16 - was shot several times, two shots to his head littering the pavement with bone fragments and grey matter. We work mainly in silence - I sense that Lindsay needs to be left alone otherwise.

Back at the lab, we process evidence, and later, as I ponder the voluminous paperwork, she nudges me and smiles. "Go home, Doc. Have a good night. I could use the busy work."

I look at her a moment before nodding reluctantly. "Take care of yourself, Monroe."

When I walk into my apartment, the first thing I see is the blinking red light of my answering machine. I hit the button and Nicole's lovely modulated voice comes through - "Just thinking about you. I'll be out late - I'm teaching a sketch class at the community center down the street - but maybe we can meet for lunch tomorrow? Call me in the morning?

I smile, making a note to do just that. I turn to change clothes when it rings again. Thinking it's Nicole, I pick up the phone and luckily glance at the Caller ID. Faith. My grip tightens as it continues to ring.

C'mon Sheldon, I chastise myself. Answer the phone and end this once and for all.

But I can't do it. My machine clicks on and my voice urges the caller to leave a message. As always, Faith does.

"Baby, I miss you. I'm sitting here alone, wishing you were here. Robert and I - it's finished, Sheldon. I want you. I've always wanted you. Call me - I don't care when."

And despite the loveliness of Nicole Tucker, part of me wants to. My fingers itch to dial Faith's number - and not to give her the brush-off as I had intended. The insidious part of me that will always love her wants to call and tell her everything's okay, but rational thoughts prevail.

Just in case, I toss the phone in the toilet on my way to the shower. Can't been too careful.

Lindsay

I'm on my way to my car that evening when I run into Flack. "Hey Monroe! Just headin' home?"

"Yep, and not a moment too soon. Gang shooting are such a pain."

He agrees, then: "I hear you had a date. Good time?"

I nod warily - I suspect Danny's behind this. Flack reads my mind.

"You're my friend, Lindsay, I'm asking because I care about you, not because of Danny. He and I - well, we avoid talkin' about you. He knows I know he screwed things up, and doesn't want to hear about it. So tell me, this guy the love of your life? Cuz if he is, I need to prep Messer."

I consider my response. "We just had drinks, Don. It's a little early. He's nice."

"Nice, huh." He's quiet a few moments. "Did you know I was engaged once?" I shake my head, surprised. "I asked her on my 19th birthday - I was just about to start at the academy. Laura, Laura Lee McNally. I fell in love with her when I was 16 and kissed her behind the bleachers at a football game."

He's wistful, eyes far away. He anticipates my next question. "She died two years later - slipped on a divin' board at the Y, hit her head. She never regained consciousness."

I reach out and touch his arm. "Don, oh my God, I'm sorry …"

Flack waves away my condolences. "I'm okay. Now, anyway. What I'm gettin' at is, I knew she was special from the moment I touched her. Just felt somethin'. No matter what happens with Messer, don't settle for anything less than that."

With that, he kissed my forehead and walks away, leaving me stunned in his wake. What is this, Confuse Lindsay Day?

An hour later, I'm grateful for the peace and quiet of my apartment. There's a message from Rich, asking me to call him, but I decide to let it wait until tomorrow. I settle chin-deep into a warm bubble bath and collect my thoughts.

Richmond Cauffield is everything I should want right now. Gentle, intelligent, attentive. Why is it then, that every time I close my eyes I see Danny?

TBC