Disclaimer: Unfortunately nothing that you recognize is mine; I just like to borrow them. Characters are from the brilliant minds of CBS and Jerry Bruckheimer, song lyrics are from the Moody Blues.

Spoilers: Please have some idea as to what's going on in the current episodes.

A/N: Amazingly, alerts seem to be working again, so lots of reviews, I will try and respond to you all, if I don't, then it was purely an oversight and I apologize, so go hit that blue button...

Minds are subject to what should be done
Problem solved, time cannot be won
One hour a day
One hour at night
Sees crowds of people
All meant for flight

Stella and Lindsay were sitting in the break room, trying to grab a quick bite to eat, when Danny walked in. "How's the case going?" he tried to ask casually, but faltered. Lindsay, recognizing the waver in Danny's question, knew that they couldn't tell him what they had found out. Not yet.

"We have some DNA tests waiting to come back; Sid's looking over the body once more. We're kind of at that waiting point where we can't do much." Lindsay said quickly, hoping Stella would get the point and not let Danny know too much.

He just nodded and sat down beside Lindsay. Stella decided to leave the two of them alone. Flack should be coming in with the suspect soon, at least Lindsay could keep Danny occupied and not let him see what was going on. She wandered off down the hallway in search of Mac, to let him know what they had found.

"How are you doing Danny?" Lindsay asked as she snuggled up into his arm.

"Much better now that I'm with you Montana" He responded by pulling her closer. God, how he missed her when he was away from her, even if it was just for a moment. He would do anything for this girl. She was one of the first people to really care about him, not just see him as a New York kid turned cop. Sure, the rest of the lab cared for him, but it wasn't a deep bond. He had only shared this type of bond with two people in his life. Flack and Aiden. And even then, the bond was only friendship. No wonder he had started off less than kind towards Lindsay, who had replaced Aiden. He had tried to annoy her by calling her Montana. That is until it became a nickname that they both had grown fond of, and instead of annoying her, it became a symbol of affection. Thinking of this, he closed his eyes and just concentrated on Lindsay; her hands clasping the back of his neck, the smell of her hair, the feel of her flesh under his hands. He was addicted to her, and as he kissed her, he felt his walls break, and he sat there, in her arms, crying; wondering how she could care for him like she did. She was whispering "It's alright, let it out, it's alright, I'm here". It was all he could hear and he held onto that thought, letting it anchor him. After all they had been through, she still cared for him. But she was too good for him; wasn't she?

---------------

Flack grimaced as he looked at the door of the apartment in front of him. Why did he have to do it? Why did he have to get himself messed up in this? This was going to be the final straw for Danny. Just when he had a chance of happiness with Monroe, this was going to blow it. The poor guy, he hadn't had an easy year; Aiden's death, his brother's death, Don himself almost being blown to pieces, Lindsay turning him down. Flack groaned inwardly and decided to get this over and done with. He'd bring this guy down to the station and question him. But what was he going to tell Danny? Forget it. If you stand out here any longer his neighbors will be calling the cops on you. Just grit your teeth and do it. Come on Flack. And go!

He raised his hand and knocked on the door. It was answered by a man in his late fifties to early sixties, who was still in very good shape. He was tall, over six feet and did not look like the type of guy you wanted to mess with. Unfortunately that was exactly what Flack was planning to do.

"What're you doin' here?" asked the man, looking down on him with a sneer.

"Uh, sir, I'm here to request that you come down to the station for questioning. We found something of interest at a crime scene and were hoping you could clear it up for us." Flack's voice was steady, even if his insides were shaking like mad.

"An' if I say no?"

"I'll be forced to come back with a warrant, and bring you in anyway."

"Well let's git this over and done with now, huh?" the man said, a trace of patronization recognizable in his voice, even through the thick Staten Island accent. "Come on Detective Flack, lead the way." He let go a deep laugh that sounded more like a bark. Flack wasn't sure why, but it made his hair stand on end. Flack hadn't seen this man in years, and he had no wish to talk to him again, but here he was. Their first meeting was not a pleasant encounter, and this one, though less violent, was not shaping up to be much better.

Flack walked the man down to his unmarked car and drove to the police station, all the while hoping desperately that Danny would not see him bringing this man into custody.

---------------

Mac sat at his desk, leaning back in his chair, eyes closed. He and Sheldon had been working all the cases left abandoned by the other CSI's as they struggled to find the murderer of Figlioni. This was his first time to rest in a while, and he was enjoying it. Lights off, cool room, he tried to avoid the headache he could feel coming on by popping some painkillers. He would have time for the headache later, but not now. There was still a lot of work to be done.

"Mac, you awake?" Mac jumped, surprised to see Stella in front of him. He must have drifted off.

"Yeah, just taking a rest, been a busy day."

"It's about to get worse. We found a suspect for the homicide; Flack's bringing him in now to talk to him. You're not going to like it Mac. There are way too many ties to the Tanglewood Boys and other organized crime in this case."

"Start at the beginning, and tell me what's going on" Mac stated simply.

Stella took him through the lack of evidence at the crime scene to the break that Sid caught. She told him about Flack checking the prison visiting logs and finding a name; a name that also appeared as the DNA match to the glass in the victim's hand.

"And Flack is bringing him in now, but we don't know how to tell Danny." Stella finished.

Mac sighed. This was a problem to be sure, and the headache he had been fighting back sprang on him with full force, causing him to grimace with pain. "I'll talk to him after you and Flack have finished the interrogation. I'll be an observer, and take what we know to Danny. You're right. I don't like this one bit, but we are going to have to deal with it. "

Stella nodded and she and Mac turned to leave the office to meet Flack at the interrogation room.

---------------

Mac looked through the one-way mirror and saw Stella sit down next to Flack, across from the suspect. Flack put a voice recorder on the table in front of him.

"You have agreed to talk to us without a lawyer present?"

"Got nothin' to hide so why the hell would I need a lawyer? The man answered.

Flack continued as though he had not heard the man's answer.

"This is an official statement so we will be recording it." He reached forward and turned the recorder on. "Please state your name and address for the record."

"Joseph Messer, 1365 Copley St, Staten Island, New York."