A/N: Flying without a net here so please disregard all mistakes! Thanks to MariaLisa for the quick thumbs up read through!

DISCLAIMERS: The CSI:NY characters belong to Jerry Bruckheimer and the wonderful writers for CSI: NY. However everything else is mine.

A Very Messer Christmas

Encircle me with mothering arms

And comfort my sorrow with tender love

While you speak reassuring words to me

Not, of what I cannot do,

But only of what I can.

-Sally Jetson

The wind was bitingly cold as Lindsay stood beside the taxi while Danny paid the driver. Why did it always seem colder on Staten Island than in Manhattan? She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself as she glanced across the street and spied a darkly colored sedan housing two men, one surreptitiously read a newspaper while the other nonchalantly fiddled with the radio dial. She shivered again but this time it was in realization that this was the federal surveillance team that had been assigned to keep an eye on Joe Messer and his family. Her mind replayed the conversation she had had with Danny that morning. They had been curled up on her couch, she leaning back against his chest, ensconced securely between his legs, while she sipped a steaming mug of coffee.

"Lindsay," he began cautiously, "I talked to Dad yesterday about his involvement with Geno's murder and the FBI."

"Yeah, what did you find out?" she questioned softly, gripping the mug tightly between her hands, not completely sure that she wanted to know.

Danny sighed deeply and she could feel his weight shift behind her as he pulled his hand away from her waist to rub it across his mouth.

"Not much really. He said he didn't have anything to do with Geno's murder. The FBI knew that and that is why they released him. They had to cover their asses though by searching his business and confiscating the books."

"Does he have any idea who killed Geno and why?"

"If he does, he's not telling me. He just says it doesn't concern me and that the FBI is keeping an eye on him and Ma as an extra precaution while the case is being worked."

She craned her head around to look at him. "What do you think?"

He pushed his glasses back up on his nose before he answered solemnly, "What possible motive would he have for killing his right hand man? I mean it just doesn't add up."

She looked at him intently. "That's your brain talking but what does your gut tell you?"

He clenched his fist as he tapped it broodingly on his knee, "Do gut feelings count in our line of work?"

"Danny, this isn't a case, this is your dad."

He unclenched his fist, letting out a slow blow of air through pursed lips. His hand skimmed over his head to grip the back of his neck; he cocked his head first to the right and then to the left before focusing his eyes on her.

"My gut tells me he's clean."

Danny caught the object of her stare as the taxi pulled away. He curled a hand around her upper arm as he noted her furrowed brow.

"Ya sure about this, Montana? 'Cause if you're not I'll take ya back home all you gotta do is give the word," he stated decisively.

She bit her lip as her mind contemplated that word home. Where was home? Granted she enjoyed the pace and excitement of the city and her career was challenging and fulfilling; more so than it had ever been in Montana. But above all, it was Danny that gave her a sense of home. She belonged with him and she loved him. But was it worth the risk to be with him? She turned and drank in his intense blue eyes. Home! There was no denying that she wanted to be with him no matter what the risk.

"No, Danny, I'm fine," she reassured him as she grabbed his hand and started walking backwards toward the house. "C'mon Cowboy, I'm hungry let's go eat," she grinned.

"Now you're talking," he grinned in return as she turned and led him up the walk.

As they stepped inside the warm and inviting house the lights twinkled merrily on the tree and carols floated melodically in air. Joe approached with a drink in his hand and an unlit cigar clenched between his teeth.

"Ma still not letting you smoke those things in the house, Dad?" Danny joked as they embraced heartily. "Who wears the pants in this family anyway?"

Joe took the cigar out of his mouth gripping it between his thumb and forefinger and pointed it at Danny.

"Danny, women rule the home. You best learn that now, mio figlio. It'll save you much heartache in the long run."

Joe turned to Lindsay with an engaging smile on his face, "Am I not right, Lindsay?"

Lindsay laughed in pleasure at this lighter side of Joe. "I have to agree. My dad doesn't question my mom when it comes to domestic matters." Joe's arms reached around her and gave her a warm embrace.

"Let me take your coats. Your ma's in the kitchen." Joe gestured with his head as he released Lindsay.

They piled their coats over his outstretched arm and headed into the kitchen. The mouth-watering smells that greeted them as they pushed open the door took a backseat to Caitlin's delight at seeing them.

"Danny, Lindsay!" she exclaimed as she hugged and kissed them both. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes twinkled. "You both look happy and relaxed! I take it you had a wonderful Christmas Eve."

"Yeah Ma, we did," Danny replied a little sheepishly.

"Danny!" Lindsay heard Uncle Sal's thick Italian accent as he clapped a hand on Danny's shoulder. They exchanged an affectionate hug.

"I'm glad you're here Uncle Sal, you remember Lindsay?" Danny queried as he slid his arm around her waist.

A mischievous light entered Uncle Sal's eyes.

"How could I forget la donna bella that has captured il cuore di Danny.

Uncle Sal murmured something else in Italian as he brought Lindsay's outstretched hand to his lips and she blushed profusely.

"Uncle Sal, are you trying to make a move on my girl?" Danny chuckled.

Uncle Sal squeezed Lindsay's hand and raised his eyebrows inquiringly. "Would you like that Lindsay? I could whisk you away to Italy, show you the most romantic spots…we could drink the most intoxicating wine…"

Lindsay couldn't help but giggle in guilty pleasure at the attention she was receiving from this charming and debonair Italian.

"Salvatore Risi, I will not have you ruining my best chance for grandchildren," Caitlin chided playfully as she tugged at the crook of Uncle Sal's elbow causing him to drop Lindsay's hand.

"Ma, Uncle Sal's just teasin'" Danny joked.

"Is Salvatore causing problems here?" questioned Joe, coming in on the tail end of the conversation.

"I was just getting to know Danny's donna bella. Can you blame me?"

Joe regarded Lindsay thoughtfully before he replied, "No I can't. Ms. Monroe is not only beautiful but she is a clever CSI as well."

"Lindsay," Uncle Sal's eyes twinkled, "if you change your mind about Danny..."

"Well, he does have this annoying habit of…" Lindsay began playfully as she stole a sideways glance at Danny.

"Alright Uncle Sal, ya made your point," Danny growled as he cinched Lindsay closer to his waist, grinning at her before quickly changed the subject. "Ma, when do we eat?"

"As soon as your nona gets here."

"What? Is she getting here under her own steam, Ma?" Danny's eyebrows raised in concern.

"Aye, Danny she is. You know how she is..."

"...stubborn," Danny supplied. "But she's over 80 years old."

"Danny, she'll be okay. It's Christmas Day, the streets are quite," Joe assured Danny.

"Dad, you're just scared shitless to go up against her."

"Watch your mouth, mio figlio." Joe pointed his cigar warningly at Danny.

"Who's old and stubborn?" challenged a slightly raspy but affable voice from the doorway of the kitchen.

Everyone turned to the elderly, olive complexioned woman whose swept-back, snow white hair gave her a delicate and elegant air but whose glittering coal black eyes hinted at resiliency and shrewdness.

"Ma!" Joe exclaimed, exchanging cheek to cheek kisses with the elderly woman.

"You're my favorite son, Joe, even if you are, how did Danny put it," she paused to glance at Danny wickedly, "scared shitless of me."

She patted Joe's cheek affectionately and turned to Uncle Sal.

"Maria, you are captivating as always," Uncle Sal complimented as he brought Maria's hand to his lips.

"You, Salvatore," she wagged a bony finger at him, "are full of shit but you are still my favorite son-in-law."

"And there's my Catie, my only daughter-in-law who can cook a half-way decent Italian meal." Maria and Caitlin exchanged cheek to cheek kisses before Maria turned her attention to Danny and Lindsay.

"Danny, my favorite and extremely handsome grandson who has the balls to tell it like it is." Maria held her arms wide to Danny as he bent into her embrace.

Danny released Maria and reached for Lindsay's hand, pulling her close to his side.

"Nona, this is my girlfriend, Lindsay Monroe." Lindsay's cheeks pinked as delicious warmth seeped throughout her body at Danny's words.

"Mrs. Messer," Lindsay greeted politely taking Maria's hand.

"Lindsay, call me Maria." Maria instructed, "Mrs. Messer was my mother-in-law, Joe's Nona."

Lindsay smiled in secret amusement at what seemed to be a family tradition or maybe an aversion at not wanting to be called Mrs. Messer.

Maria held Lindsay's hand a moment longer as she continued, "I can tell from your looks and accent you are neither Italian nor a native New Yorker but…" and she leaned in closer to question Lindsay more intimately, "are you a good Catholic girl?"

Lindsay's mouth gaped in a perfect 'o' shape as her brain momentarily blanked. Caitlin's strangled, "Maria!" coincided with Joe's drink spewing forth from his lips and Danny's exasperated, "Nona!"

Only Uncle Sal had the equanimity to laugh good-naturedly, "Maria, your charming wit has not deserted you." He took Maria's elbow in his hand, turning her toward the dining room and enticed, "Let me pour you a drink."

"Now, you're talking, Salvatore," she concurred as he led her away.

"Lindsay," Danny muttered as he ran a hand across his mouth. "Nona is…"

"a senile, old woman," Caitlin finished quickly, "to whom you'll pay no attention!"

Lindsay, regaining her composure, laughed at the flustered expression on Danny's face and quipped with fake innocence, "Danny, if I had known that a good Catholic girl was what you were after I wouldn't have let you take…"

"Alright Montana, don't you start in on me too," Danny wagged a finger at her but his face was split from ear to ear at her quick rejoinder.

"Danny, why don't you get Lindsay a drink," Joe suggested, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Why don't we put an end to this nonsense and eat," Caitlin suggested dryly.

After they seated themselves around the table, a toast was made to family, prosperity, and good health and the dining began in earnest.

Now that Lindsay was clued in to Maria's charming wit, she relaxed and enjoyed the fast paced conversation and good natured ribbing that flowed among the Messers…. until…toward the end of the meal…

"Joseph, I see that the Fed's are on your tail."

Apparently there were no topics that were off limits at the Messer dinner table, Lindsay thought as the activity around the table stilled.

Maria's nonchalant tone belied the deep concern in her dark eyes that peered over the rim of her glass. She took a sip of her drink while waiting for Joe to answer.

Lindsay noticed that Joe laced his fingers together and schooled his face into that mask of blank calmness that he wore the day he was in the interrogation room with Mac and Flack.

"Merely a precaution, Ma."

"A precaution? I hear talk in the neighborhood."

"There's always talk in the neighborhood, Ma."

"I hear talk about Nicky Roselli and a drug operation with the Columbians."

"Nicky Roselli, that fuckin' bastard!" Danny interjected vehemently. "Dad why didn't you tell me?"

Joe looked at Danny, a wave of sternness crossed his face while a deep pain was mirrored in his eyes.

"Mio figlio! Remember what I told you. This does- not- concern you."

"Like hell it doesn't!"

"Danny," Uncle Sal broke in, "let's go outside and have a smoke."

"Uncle Sal, I don't smoke!" Danny threw back in frustration.

"Danny, don't get all worked up about this, c'mon let's go!" Uncle Sal commanded quietly holding Danny's eyes with his own.

Suddenly Lindsay's cell phone shrilled pulling everyone's attention from the stare down between Uncle Sal and Danny to her.

She quickly pulled it off her belt and looked at the caller id.

"Is it work?" Danny asked in concern. Even though they both had the day off, Lindsay was on call.

"No, it's my parents. I need to take this," she apologized. "Is there someplace where I…"

"Of course, down the hall, first door on your left." Caitlin pointed down the hallway.

Lindsay quickly answered the call as she sat on the edge of the bed in the room Caitlin had directed her to.

She could barely focus on her dad's voice wishing her a Merry Christmas as her mind reeled through the possibilities of the Messers' connection to this Nicky Roselli.

Soon however her thoughts had to converge on the phone conversation as her dad transitioned from pleasantries to questions about her plans to return to Montana. She robotically relayed the information to him until he told her that her mom wanted to speak to her.

"No, Dad, this isn't a good time," she pleaded instantly. Damn, too late!

"Mom, Merry Christmas," she forced brightness into her voice.

"What kind of daughter doesn't want to wish her mom a Merry Christmas?" she chided herself. "A guilty, cowardly one!" the inner voice berated her.

"Yeah, thanks. I'm having a really great time with Danny's family." Her hands began to tremble.

"How about you? How are Kyle and Kurt?" Her heart thumped in her chest as she asked about her brothers hoping to keep the conversation light. Her mother made the obligatory remarks about her brothers. Then…

"I'll see you in a couple of days, Lindsay."

Even though her mom was making the effort, her voice sounded stiff.

"Yeah, I'll see you then. Bye Mom," Lindsay sighed in relief that the call was over.

She clicked the phone shut quickly as if that would quell the overwhelming surge of tortured memories flooding her mind. Her shoulders sagged as she agitatedly flipped the phone over and over in her in hands. She didn't know if she had the strength to do this. She didn't know if she could face her mom knowing that her mom blamed her for Laurel's death. She remembered her mom's angry words the night of Laurel's death.

"Don't touch me Lindsay! This is your fault; you should have never left her alone."

Things had never been the same between them since and it wasn't until Laurel's murderer had been captured in New York that Lindsay had been able to return to some semblance of a normal life. But that was in New York with Danny and now she was flying over halfway across the country back to Montana, to face the murderer and to face her mom. Suddenly she felt as if every bit of confidence, strength and resolve she had gained in the past few months had been obliterated with this one phone call.

Her tears began to fall uncontrollably as the bed creaked beside her and soft, comforting arms enveloped her.

"I can't do it."

The mantra tore raggedly from her throat as her hands gripped the arms encircling her, while her body rocked back and forth in time to her distressing chant.

Then a gentle answering began. To each tormented "I can't do it." there ensued a soothing, "Aye, but you can." until the rocking stilled, the grip relaxed and the chanting quieted.

Her hair was swept tenderly away from her face as one hand cradled her wet cheek. She instinctively leaned into the caress and murmured,

"But how?"

"By concentrating on what you can do, one step at a time," the voice reassured her.