A/N: I can't seem to write a chapter without some kind of help so big thanks go out to Peanut2lb, NotesofWimsey and MariaLisa.

Rated M for the language. I apologize but the bad guys just love to talk that way! LOL!

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

One Man Stands Alone

When the battle is won

There stands

In the ring of destruction

A Man Alone

-Sally Jetson

She rose from the couch.

He startled at her unexpected movement. "Where do ya think you're going?"

"To turn off the outside Christmas lights. It's a fire hazard to leave them on all night."

"Park it lady, ya ain't going nowhere."

She looked at him in feigned astonishment. "What's the harm in turning off some Christmas lights?"

Arguing with some half-baked female over minor details always ran him in circles so he waved a hand, "All right, go ahead."

No sooner had she returned to the couch than a knock sounded at the door.

"Who's that?"

"Well, I'll just have to see." She smoothed back her hair as if preparing to receive the Queen of England herself.

He clamped a pudgy hand around her wrist.

She looked at him, with a slightly beguiling smile, as if he were seven years old. Memories of his first grade teacher, Sister Angelina, who had had such a smile and red hair as well flashed into his mind. And he felt his lips begin to tug upward.

"At this time of night if I don't answer, whoever it is will wonder, maybe even get suspicious and call the police. We have a very active Neighborhood Watch group here. They really are effective. Do you have one in your neighborhood Mr…uh…? I'm sorry I didn't catch your name."

She lifted her eyebrows.

Another knock, this one more insistent. He caught himself and tried to save some face.

"Jesus lady, just shut up and answer the door! But I'm warning ya, no funny stuff 'cause I'll be right there beside ya."

She leaned into the gap between the door and the frame. "Oh, Agent Feldman, did you and Agent Reese enjoy the Christmas dinner?"

Christmas dinner. His stomach rumbled in longing

"Yes, we did. It was very thoughtful of you. We saw your lights go off and…"

"Aye, I have a headache and the lights were bothering me, so I am going to take an aspirin and rest here on the couch."

She sure is friendly with the Feds.

"Okay then Mrs. Messer, we'll keep an eye on things for you."

She closed the door and clicked her tongue. "They're such nice men and having to work on Christmas night no less… what a shame!"

He could swear there was a gentle, reproving look on her face but he couldn't be sure given the dimness of the room. Either this woman was the most clueless broad in the world or…. He hastily pushed the thought aside and gave himself a mental shake. Nicky would wash his hands of him if he messed up this job.

"All right, just plant it back on the couch, Sister Mercy!"

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"Here Dad, take my jacket you're freezing your ass off!" Danny shifted the canvas bag from shoulder to shoulder as he shrugged out of his jacket.

"Danny, I'm fine," Joe puffed a visible cloud of air and then blew into fisted hands as his arm tightened against his body hanging on to the black folder he had lodged there.

"C'mon Dad, Let me help you out for once, okay?"

"Siete un buon uomo, il mio figlio," Joe murmured as he took the jacket from Danny and slipped it on.

"Thanks, Dad," The words slipped out just ahead of the lump rising in his throat as he quickly brushed a clearing hand over his eyes.

The beam of the flashlight cut a weak path through the night as they made their way over the wooden dock that creaked from years of neglect. Halting at the 24 foot cabin cruiser moored at the end, Danny skimmed the flashlight over the hull, pausing at the lettering on the bow.

"Huh! Nicky Roselli thinks he's hot shit. Would you get a load of this…The Black Rose."

"Danny." Lindsay appeared from below deck.

"Lindsay, are you all right?" His voice was laced with concern and relief as he grabbed the railing, hoisting himself abroad eager to assure himself that she was indeed all right.

"Nice and easy, Messer. Keep both hands where I can see 'em. You too, old man, get up here."

Nicky waved a gun at them as he emerged from behind Lindsay.

"Lindsay, are you okay? He didn't hurt you in any way, did he?" Danny was desperate to know. She looked okay but in the dark it was hard to tell. He reached for her but Nicky grabbed her by the upper arm and yanked her back.

He heard an involuntary, "Ow," and then, "Danny, I'm fine." Her voice was thin but determined and he noticed that she kept her hands behind her which meant they were probably restrained.

"Touching, Messer, I've got the world's tiniest violin playing right here," Nicky mockingly rubbed a thumb and forefinger together, "But I don't have time for this."

Danny felt his frayed nerves begin to unravel at Nicky's mocking and Lindsay's discomfort.

Nicky focused his stare on Joe. "Hand it over old man." Joe held the folder out to Nicky but held fast to it when he grasped it.

"Nicky, let's work this out. Let Danny and Lindsay go. Take me. I'll help you get in with the clientele."

"Take you? Take you?… you're worthless to me now," he sneered. "I got everything I need from you right here." He gave the folder a vicious tug and Joe released it. He dropped it onto the captain's chair next to him.

"You'll never get in… these people don't know you. You have to gain their trust, build a relationship." Joe retorted disdainfully. "You are nothing to them, Nicky, nothing at all."

"Just- one- big- nothing." Joe curved his fingers against his thumb making the zero sign.

"Shut the fuck up, old man!"

Nicky pressed the gun against Joe's forehead.

"Hey, Nicky, I've got your bag. What do ya want me to do with it?" Danny said trying to diffuse the situation.

"I can see that Messer knows how to play the game… isn't that right Messer?" Nicky countered, lowering his gun but never removing his eyes from Joe.

"Sure, sure, Nicky, I know how to play the game." Danny replied in a placatory tone.

"You know what's in that bag? That's my seed money. That snitch Geno thought it was to be his for getting me this little black book… but I had plans to off him all along and when I found out he was working with the Feds… well that made it all the sweeter to waste him."

"You murdered an innocent, family man? You disgust me, Nicky. If your father were alive…"

"If my father were alive, he'd have taken you out long ago after the way you dumped my sister, Sophia for that Irish bitch." Nicky paused for effect. "But in the end you came in handy."

"What do you mean?" Joe's voice was composed, but Danny recognized that hint of steel.

"That night you left Geno at the shop going over the books so you could take your Irish bitch to Midnight Mass, you took Geno's car."

Danny stepped closer and placed a steadying hand on Joe's shoulder when he swayed slightly.

"That's right, the dead battery in your car… planted… and the Feds followed you that night thinking you were Geno. But by the time they realized their mistake, we had him. Bye, bye Geno," Nicky crooned as he kissed his fingers and flicked them in the air.

"Why you son-of-a-bitch!" Joe lunged but Danny yanked him back.

"Ain't worth it, Dad. Just leave the piece of scum alone. He'll get what's coming to him."

"You know what, old man? I can't wait to waste you. And when I toss your body out to sea on my way to Mexico, the sharks will make quick work of it."

"That'll get you life, Nicky." Danny warned, in an effort to stall.

"Who's gonna be around to pin it on me? Huh? Certainly not you and little Miss Science Cop here."

"As fine an ass as she's got…" Nicky craned his neck back to sweep a leeringly appreciative glance over Lindsay's backside, "She's a little too uptight for my tastes. Know what I mean, Messer?"

"'Fraid not, Nicky." Danny responded coolly, but the hand of foreboding dragged a finger down his spine.

"Come on, Messer. I 'member you used to hang with broads who knew how to party, real lookers too…"

Fuck… I should have known this was coming…Roselli always was a first class prick. This is not what I want Lindsay to hear… hell, I don't want to hear it… relive it… the pain, the disappointment… the complete absurdity of it all.

He stared at Lindsay, to calm himself, to reassure her, hoping she could read the emotions on his face, in spite of the darkness.

"Oh but that's right… that's before you became a washed-up ball player, a has-been…'member that Messer… 'member how you fucked up the deal of the decade with your interference… 'member how I took you down…," Nicky mocked, bitterness creeping in as he traced the scar with the barrel of his gun. "But not before you gave me this scar. I owe you Messer!"

He abruptly pointed the gun at Danny.

"That scar is your own doing Nicky. You wouldn't go to the hospital for proper treatment 'cause you knew the cops would arrest you and with a rap sheet as long as yours… something would have stuck. You're the one who fucked up."

Danny felt the traitorous heat of rage coursing through his body. He tightened his fist to try to disperse it, to not lose control, to not make the same mistake twice.

"I'm done talking. Hand over that bag now."

"Okay, Nicky, you want the bag?" Danny goaded, shifting the bag in his hands.

"Just give me the fuckin' bag… Messer."

"I'll give you the bag… Lindsay, duck!" Danny shouted a split second before he swung it into Nicky's head.

Nicky staggered, there was the crack of the gun, and two sets of hands grabbed wildly for Lindsay as she teetered. One set to save, the other to destroy. Fingertips grazed fingertips and an anguished scream pierced the night as she toppled backwards over the side of the cruiser with Nicky.

"Lindsay! Lindsay!" Danny searched and strained for any sign of Lindsay, clawing frantically around behind him for the flashlight.

"Flashlight, Dad!"

She won't last a minute in this frigid water with her hands tied.

"Dad!" He barked his desperation.

He turned quickly and saw the dark pool of blood contrasted against the white of the deck. He dropped to his knees as Joe pressed a hand to his side and spoke with great effort.

"Go after her, Danny!"

"But…" The shock paralyzed him until…

"GO!"

He grabbed the flashlight and panned it across inky black of the water. A bob, maybe a head: it was so hard to tell even with the flashlight.

"Lindsay!"

He thought he heard a faint 'Danny' floating through the night air and dove in toward the sound. The frigid water instantly made his muscles clench but he forced his arms to slice through the water. When his hand slapped against her body, he latched onto it, pulling her close to him.

"Oh God, thank God, Lindsay, talk to me! Talk to me!"

"So cold," her teeth clattered.

"I know, just hang on and keep talking to me!"

He started kicking towards the back of the cruiser, heartening himself by frantically muttering…

"God, don't let me lose her… don't let me lose her… I can't lose…"

He was so numb the only movement he could feel were the teeth rattling in his head.

"Lindsay, say something. Are ya still with me?"

No response.

His muscles were near the shattering point as he hoisted Lindsay onto the back platform and dragged himself up next to her, feeling no warmer out of the water as a blast of northerly air hit his drenched clothes. Cradling her, he stumbled below deck, untied her hands, stripped her of the sopping clothes and looked wildly about the cabin for anything to wrap her in. Suddenly a hand held a blanket out to him. He glanced quickly at the ashen face of his dad.

"Fuckin' A, Dad, you look like shit!"

"As eloquent as your nona, mio figlio." Joe grimaced and dropped onto the cushions, clutching a bright orange and yellow beach towel to his side.

"Dad, I'm sorry… we'll get you some help too." Danny reassured as he wrapped Lindsay in the blanket.

"I'm okay… son-of-a-!" Joe grunted as he shifted his weight, "... as long as I don't do that." Joe finally settled and leaned back, closing his eyes.

Not good, Messer, not good! You're the only viable act in this 3 ring circus right now.

Danny desperately wanted to begin chaffing Lindsay's body through the thickness of the blanket if only to quell some of the panic steadily infiltrating his emotions and threatening to become the master of his actions. But he remembered, from the required first aid course he had taken at the police academy, that chaffing of a hypothermia victim was not recommended.

Think Messer Think! What else, what else?

He cursed himself for not paying more attention during class! The ghostly pallor of her skin and blue-tinged lips were alarmingly reminiscent of the hundreds of bodies in the morgue he had the misfortune to view. Her breathing was shallow and her pulse was weak. With her scant body weight and the rapid loss of body heat in water he knew her body temperature must have dropped in the frigid water.

"Linds, can you hear me? Wake up… you gotta open your eyes so I'll know you're still with me. 'Member what I told ya… about my world and how I love you…"

Help, help, gotta get help!

He could feel the lump of despair stealing its way up from the pit of his stomach into his throat, blocking his breath. He had never felt more helpless in his life than at this moment.

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Caitlin eyed the disheveled, chunky man starting to nod off. His hand loosened around the gun and she wondered if she could slip it out of his twitching fingers before he had a chance to react.

Not daring to scoot any closer, she reached her hand out towards the sleek, metal object winking mockingly at her in the lamplight.

Abruptly his body jerked and he gave a horrible snort, unfortunately gripping the gun tighter during the disturbance.

How am I supposed to get him to release it now?

Smacking his lips contentedly, he turned into the couch folding his arms and legs into a more fetal position, hugging the gun to his chest as if it were a much-loved teddy bear.

He's hugging that gun the way Danny used to hug that summer league championship baseball bat when he slept with it.

She smiled as she recalled how she used to spirit the bat away from Danny once he was asleep She used to tickle him right there…. under his chin…. right there she thought as she squiggled her index finger along the chin folds of the man now sleeping on her couch. He stirred but held fast to the gun. She bit her lip and fluttered her fingertips across his cheek and nose. He merely swatted at his face with his empty hand.

Frustration seized her. You stubborn old criminal. Take that! She blew a puff of air into his face in complete aggravation and the gun thumped onto the soft cushions of the couch.

She carefully gripped it, keeping the barrel pointed at the sleeping form while she elevated herself from the couch with her other hand.

Whoosh!

She whirled around toward the sound. Light blinded her momentarily as a familiar voice called out to her.

"Mrs. Messer, it's Agent Feldman. I'll take that before you shoot somebody that you don't intend to."

"Oh thank God," she murmured as she crossed herself and her legs gave way.

Strong arms caught her and helped her to the couch. She looked around and Agent Reese was cuffing her captor as he sleepily tried to make sense of the situation.

"It took you long enough," she grumbled. "I was beginning to think I had given you the wrong signal."

Agent Feldman smiled gently at her.

"No, you gave the right signal. We were waiting on backup and then we got the go ahead to proceed without backup. Turns out they needed the backup at another more precarious situation."

"Oh," she nodded barely able to register what he was saying. She was drowning in all the worries, questions and anxieties swimming through her mind.

"Mrs. Messer, I need to take you to the hospital."

"No, I'm fine," she replied distractedly shaking her head. "Really, I don't need a hospital. I need to know where…"

"Yes, I know. I'm going to take you to the hospital now,"

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A/N: Whew I'm glad that's over! Now we'll be moving away from the bad guys and back to some D/L intimate moments within the next chapter or two. D/L intimacy is my guilty pleasure!