DISCLAIMER • CSI: New York and its characters are the property of CBS and Anthony Zuiker.

NOTES & SUMMARY • Just a short piece that was bugging me while I was in the midst of writing "A Day Late." All it contains is a conversation between Adam and Lindsay about Danny.

SPOILER WARNINGS • Through espisode 3x03 Love Run Cold.

PAIRINGS • Suppose you could call it D/L ( well, D/L angst, really )

LYRIC CREDIT • Pain by Three Days Grace

THANK ME LATER
i'd rather feel pain than nothing at all

The Crime Labs were quiet, but that was exactly what she needed right now. Her apartment was quiet, too, but that was a little unbearable. At least here, if she wanted it, she could reach out and touch someone. At home, the closest thing she could get to human contact were the images on her TV, and she wasn't a big fan of late-night programming, anyway.

Lindsay Monroe liked to think that, by now, she was a city girl. Okay, so she still had calluses from her country days, but Montana was behind her. Apart from a weekly call to her parents, she hardly thought of home anymore. New York City tended to make every other place feel like at dream. Here was where life truly happened. Bozeman was a sleepy memory, almost forgotten. Well…she winced. Not forgotten. Not just yet.

If only Danny had kept his mouth shut. If only he'd just kept it at the subtle flirtations. If he hadn't gone past the "Montanas" and the "Miss Monroes," she wouldn't be in this mess. She wouldn't be walking into the New York City Crime Labs at close to three in the morning on her day off. She'd be sleeping, peacefully, and maybe her dreams would include the handsome Italian, but maybe they wouldn't. As it stood, however, too many thoughts were running through her mind to sleep.

She wasn't surprised to see all the activity in her place of work -- crime never slept, and so the lights always burned here. It was white and sterile and impersonal, and for Lindsay, it was home. She was here for a specific purpose, sort of. Mac told her once that everyone had those cases that haunted them, and he was right. Hers was Sara Butler.

Maybe she'd missed something. Lindsay told herself that every time she reviewed the file on the case. Maybe James Vackner's motive would reveal itself to her if she could just better put herself into his shoes. She picked up the case file, signing for it and heading into an empty break room. She'd barely opened the file, however, before she was shutting it again. She told herself she was crazy for being here, for looking at his case again, even though it had been closed long ago.

Why? It still haunted her. She hated that question. Why? Danny's eyes had practically screamed the word at her when she'd told him that they shouldn't cross professional and personal boundaries.

She left the break room, tucking the file under her arm. Maybe she needed to move. Maybe she needed to walk for a while, just to be doing something. She tapped at the file, which included a tape of Vackner's interrogation. Perhaps, if she played it through, she'd catch something she hadn't heard when he'd been sitting across the table from her…She decided to head to the Audio-Video Lab. It couldn't hurt, after all. Could it?

It wasn't a long walk, and she didn't take her time. She could hear her halls clacking loudly on the floor as she made her way to the correct rooms. She was hoping that maybe she could spend a few minutes by herself, concentrating on Vackner's choice of words, his tone, anything that might whisper to her why, why, why it had been Sara Butler. But when she got there, the room she needed was already occupied. Frowning, Lindsay strained to see who it was throwing a kink in her plans. A flash of reddish curls and white lab coat told her that it was lab technician Adam Ross.

She didn't know him too well, despite both of them working in the labs. She was usually pretty busy with her cases, and when they did talk, it was usually because she wanted results he didn't have yet. She didn't mean to rush him -- apparently, it was his pet peeve -- but she knew that they were usually running against the clock on these cases. Time was of the essence, something she was always trying to make the tech understand. Still, he didn't seem like a bad guy. On the contrary, he was hardworking and something of a walking encyclopedia. He had a quirky sense of humor, and though at times shy, he could stand his own with Danny in a battle of wits. In fact, and this made Lindsay smile, Adam usually won those macho little contests.

She paused for a long moment, and then headed into the room. She was surprised to the point of falling over to hear strains of brassy jazz and the smoky voice of Ray LaMontagne coming from the speakers situated around the room. Adam himself was tapping his foot in time with the music, completely absorbed in resurfacing a managed home DVD. He hadn't heard her come in over the music, which Lindsay had to admit was soothing. She recognized the song, too: You Can Bring Me Flowers. It seemed like an odd choice for the tech, but then again, he had a pretty mellow outlook on life.

She touched his shoulder and he jumped about a mile, making her jerk her hand back and laugh. He flipped around, blue eyes wide, and then visibly relaxed when he realized it was just her.

"Damn," he managed, covering his heart with his hand and trying to breathe normally. Lindsay tried to control her laughter, but the look on his face had been priceless. Sometimes he was so jumpy…

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you."

"Hey, no problem." He took a couple of short breaths, then straightened out of his relieved slouch. "I thought it might be Mac, and he gets a little touchy when we play music in here, so…" Then, as if seeing her for the first time, Adam blinked and gave her a strange look. "Come to think of it, what are you doing here?"

Lindsay glanced at the file under her arm. "Oh, I was just curious about something in one of our cases from a couple months back."

"Ah." He clearly wanted to ask her why in the hell she let her curiosity get the better of her at three in the morning, but he bit his tongue. She was grateful. Explaining was beyond her -- she couldn't even reason it out to herself. "So, what can I do for ya?"

"Nothing, really." When he looked a little hurt, Lindsay rushed to clarify. "I meant, I was just going to listen to the interrogation tapes, but that's okay.

"Nah, c'mon, you wouldn't be here if it wasn't important. Lemme just get my CD, and then I'll get you all set up." Adam carefully set the half-repaired DVD aside, then he stored the stuff he'd been using to fix it and peeled off his gloves. Balling and tossing them with uncanny accuracy into the trashcan on the other side of the room ( but not without doing a two-step victory dance when he made the shot ), he turned to the control panel for the lab's audio capabilities. He plucked out his CD and then held out his hand without a word. Lindsay hesitated, but when he shot her a sideways glance, she pulled the tape out and handed it over.

He plugged it in without glancing at what it was -- a small mercy -- and then keyed up the volume as the tape started. He blinked when the talking started, and she knew he remembered the case. The tech had an amazing memory, one of the reasons Mac had recruited him out of NYU as soon as he'd finished his biochemistry degree.

They didn't talk as the tape ran its course, and with a familiar -- too familiar -- sinking feeling, Lindsay had to admit to herself that nothing about it stood out. Nothing struck her as important, at least nothing she hadn't investigated before. Adam stood beside her in muted respect, understanding suddenly what was going on. He must have seen it a hundred times before. She tried not to flush when he handed the tape back, his blue eyes surprisingly gentle.

"Did you need anything else?" he asked. She shook her head, feeling the disappointment sink deep. Adam paused, then shifted and softly cleared his throat.

"Did you need to talk about it?"

She looked up in mute horror. No, she couldn't talk about it. What was there to talk about? Sara Butler was dead, and her killer was rotting in a room that was three feet by five, hopefully with a very large man named Bubba to share a bunk with.

Adam backed off, and she blew out a breath. He was letting her off the hook, obviously too unsure to continue. They didn't, after all, know each other very well. Surely by Monday she'd be back to hounding him over the phone, making him grit his teeth as he tried to get her the results she wanted. Whatever it was about the Butler case that was bothering her, he was sure it was none of his business. He knew he shouldn't get involved. Hell, he didn't want to be involved. Bad enough it was three in the morning and he was still here, still wearing his lab coat and for some Godforsaken reason very acutely awake. He didn't need Lindsay to unload her skeletons. He definitely had his own closet full, and he doubted very much that she'd be too keen on hearing about them.

But she was leaving then, leaving him to the silent room, and looking something close to lost. How many times had he felt that way, too? Felt that, maybe if someone would just ask, it wouldn't be so bad. He found himself calling after her before he'd really realized what he was doing.

"Lindsay!"

She turned, curious, and he suddenly realized that he wished he had something to do with his hands. Now where had that sharpie run off to…?

"Yeah?"

"I just…" Want to shove my foot even deeper into my mouth. Dammit. Sharpie. Where did it go? "Look, if something's bugging you, ya know…maybe you should just get it off your chest. I mean…that's supposed to work, right? Talking about it." He finally settled on shoving his hands in his pockets, though his fingers still fidgeted.

"Adam, really, it's no big deal. I mean, I'm probably just tired, and…"

"Is it Danny?" he blurted, then he bit his tongue and tried hard to pretend he hadn't said anything to begin with. Lindsay stared at him for a long, silent moment.

"What?" she asked slowly. Adam shifted his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot, avoiding her gaze.

"I…he stopped by this afternoon, and I just thought, maybe…" He took a breath. "Maybe he was in a bad mood for the same reason you are."

That piqued her interest. He could see her warring with herself, wondering if she should ask, and what he might read into it if she did. Adam almost told her she didn't have to worry, he'd already read into it, and it was just one tangled mess. This time, however, he managed to keep his silence.

"He was in a bad mood?"

Adam glanced at her, a disbelieving smirk tugging one corner of his lips. "Uh…yeah. He has been for a week."

A week. Well, that was about right. In fact, that was about perfect. Lindsay sighed and shook her head, stepping back into the room. She sank into a chair, and Adam realized suddenly that this might take a while. He took the seat beside her.

"Did he tell you why he was in a bad mood?" she asked softly. Adam 'hah'ed in quiet, sarcastic amusement, and when she looked at him in question, he shook his head.

"He doesn't really tell me that stuff. He just gives me a hard time about being smarter than him." He offered a hopeless smile, that, to her surprise, made her smile back for a moment.

"He didn't mention that I stood him up and then turned him down completely?" she pressed. Adam blinked in genuine surprise. Now that was news. He'd been sure that Lindsay had really been into Danny, so why in the world would she…?

"Uh…no." He shrugged slightly. "You…you did?"

She nodded miserably. She was still trying to decide if that had been the right thing to do. Well, it was. It was definitely the right thing to do, for so many reasons. So why did it feel so wrong?

"It's complicated."

"I…yeah, I could guess that part." Adam stared hard into her eyes. "So what's the issue?"

It was uncharacteristically forward of him, and for a moment she just blinked at him in surprise. He held her gaze, not backing down this time, and she finally turned her eyes to the table top. Did he have to have eyes that reminded her of Danny's?

"Look, apart from us working together and apart from the fact that I doubt that Mac would approve, some stuff happened back in Bozeman and I'm just not…I'm just not ready, okay?" She shook her head, feeling a sudden and hopeless anger. This was behind her, she knew that it was. It wasn't fair to let Montana interfere with New York. She wasn't being fair to herself or to Danny, and she just wanted, finally, to move past it.

Though Adam waited patiently, she didn't elaborate. And when the silence had stretched for a few moments, he began to drum his fingers on the table top. She watched his fingers move, waited for him to speak. He looked like he was very seriously mulling over what she told him, and he kept drumming his fingers on the table top until she was about to flatten his hand against it, when he abruptly stopped. He met her gaze, his blue eyes certain.

"I know what the problem is," he told her. She blinked.

"You do?"

"Yup." He didn't even hesitate. "You're scared."

"I…what?"

"No, it's okay. I get scared too, sometimes, when it comes to a girl I really like. But you're making the problem way bigger than it is."

"Adam, it's not that I'm scared, I really have issues from back in Montana, and--"

He shook his head. "Don't make excuses. It's not like you. You're scared. If you weren't scared, you wouldn't have stood Danny up. If you weren't scared, you wouldn't be sitting there trying to tell me that Montana is why you won't act on your feelings."

She gaped at him. Where was the nervous, fidgety guy from five minutes ago? He seemed absolutely certain that he had her completely pegged, and the scary thing is, she was scared that he was perfectly right. Maybe she was scared. Had she really come that close to just blurting out everything that had happened before she'd moved to New York? To a person she barely even knew, and hardly even worked with?

"Look, I'm sorry if it's none of my business, but it seems to me…" He paused, and then barreled past any lingering uncertainty. He'd already been pretty candid with her, he might as well continue the trend. "It seems to me that, if you know how he feels, and you know how you feel, that you shouldn't try to pretend like you don't know. For one, that's not going to make working together any easier, and that's going to be what Mac is upset about. And for two, it's just…well, sorry, but it's stupid. Whatever it is, it's not going to keep Danny from having feelings for you. It's too late for that, he already has feelings for you. Maybe you should just…" He shrugged. "Trust him more."

She could hardly believe her ears. Apart from imparting very valuable advice, this was Danny that Adam was talking about. The pair of them hardly got along. Every time they were in the same room, they were shooting little verbal darts at each other. No one knew how to illicit a reaction out of Adam better than Danny, and Adam never failed to rise to the occasion. And yet here he was, telling Lindsay that she should trust him more. And he was right, she should trust him more. What was she thinking? She trusted Danny with her life. But there were some things.
"I--"

"Nope!" Adam cut her off with a word and a look. "Don't start trying to rationalize it. That's where you're messing up. Maybe in a few hours you can take him coffee and you guys can talk about it, but if you should at least give the guy the benefit of the doubt. He did have enough balls to tell you how he feels." He paused. "'Scuse the language."

It was the last bit that made her laugh, and suddenly, she felt utterly calm about the whole thing. Night after night of worry and angst, and Adam had cleared it up in under ten minutes. Was he right? Was she just scared. Maybe. Not even maybe. Probably. She knew she had to talk to Danny, to explain herself and maybe…maybe tell him about what had happened in Bozeman. She knew she'd never really put it behind her, but Adam was right -- she shouldn't hold Danny accountable for what went down in Montana. Elated, and bone-achingly exhausted, Lindsay stood up and nodded to herself. She'd decided. She was going to call Danny a little later, after a couple hour's sleep, and they'd go someplace neutral where the could talk. She knew she couldn't give him much, not yet, but she owed him that much.

She'd almost made it to the door when she stopped, realizing she hadn't even said thank you. She looked over her shoulder, and caught Adam watching her with just a hint of a smile on his lips, his blue eyes dancing -- or was that just the light?

"Hey…thank you. Really."

He lifted a shoulder, brushing it off with surprising grace. "Don't mention it," he told her. She smiled at him and waved, then slipped out. Adam watched her go for a long moment, then picked up the Butler file. She hadn't even remembered to take it back. She must be excited.

"It was the least I could do," he said to an empty room, and then he turned back to his work, trying not to think about the way she'd smiled at him right before she'd gone.