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Lindsay huddled in front of the toilet, wondering if her stomach was actually going to empty itself or if it just wanted to kill her with nausea. Pulling her legs up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her shins and rested her forehead on her knees.

She'd spent the entire four hours of day one of the trial waiting in the witness room across the hall so she wouldn't have to look at him. She wasn't sure why they'd made her come. She could have told them that they wouldn't get to her testimony today. They had to go through all the preliminaries, the court version of small talk, before getting to the actual hearing. Tomorrow was the day to fear.

Nausea had her gripping the edge of the toilet until she finally remembered that she hadn't been able to eat anything all day. She had nothing to throw up but bile.

Downstairs, she heard her mother's soft murmur and her father's baritone answer. On a little sob, she rested her cheek against her knees. She'd thought if she went away and he wouldn't have to see her all the time, he'd eventually get over it. But she was wrong; her father was very much still mad at her.

No, mad wasn't the right word. He was disappointed in her. Which, if she were honest with herself, was worse than his being angry had been.

Her brother and Connor hadn't come back to the house for supper. She supposed her mother had told them not to, that Lindsay would need a quiet evening after today, but Lindsay wished her mother hadn't sent them packing. Their boisterous presence might have served as a distraction from everything else rolling around in her mind.

Convinced that her stomach wasn't going to explode, Lindsay gripped the marble edge of the sink and pulled herself to her feet. The room wobbled for a moment, then righted and she sighed with relief. A glance in the mirror confirmed her pale complexion and the wild look in her eyes. Turning the faucet, she splashed cold water all over her face, her teeth chattering at the sudden temperature change.

Lindsay patted herself dry, feeling slightly better, and carefully hung the towel up before opening the door. Once in the hall, she could hear her parents more clearly.

"Gordon, you have to let it go."

"All I said was that Connor's raising the price on Houston's stud fees." Her father's voice was calm, but the edge to his words made Lindsay's eyes fall shut.

"Connor this. Connor that. Get over it, Gordon Theodore Monroe."

Lindsay jerked away from where she'd been leaning against the wall. She'd never heard her mother speak with such disdain towards her father. Raising a shaking hand, she tried to tamp down on the guilt rising up in her. She'd done this.

"Molly." Their voices were getting quieter as they moved deeper into the house, probably towards the kitchen. Lindsay sank down onto the top step of the stairs, feeling like a child again as she leaned against the wooden railing and eavesdropped on her parents.

"Molly," he said again, his tone still calm. "If she hadn't—"

"Well, she did. They did, if you can't remember that far back. Connor was as much a part of that decision as she was, and he's welcomed back with open arms every damn night."

Tears were welling behind Lindsay's eyes. So she'd been right. Her father was still mad at her.

"Yet your own daughter—" Molly's voice rose and cut off abruptly. Then all Lindsay could hear was furious whispering and the sound of footsteps stomping around the kitchen.

Sighing, she rested her hot cheek against the coolness of the wood and willed the tears away. She was a grown woman. She couldn't cry just because her father didn't approve of her life. It was her life.

The sudden knocking on the front door made Lindsay jump about a mile. She placed her hand over her racing heart and tried to get her breathing back to normal as she stared straight down the stairs in front of her to the large wooden door. When her father's clomping footsteps headed towards the front hall—and, indirectly, her hiding place—she scrambled to her feet and scurried to her room as quietly as possible.

Easing the door shut, she heard her father's voice and then another, but the murmurs were indistinct and she tried to shut her ears. The murmuring went on for several minutes until the door shut behind the visitor and the voices moved towards the living room.

Climbing into her window seat and huddling against the wall, Lindsay wondered vaguely if the lawyer was back with more of the same questions. A last minute brush up so that the answers burned into her brain wouldn't sound too practiced on the stand the next morning. When she heard her father call into the kitchen for her mother, she frowned and raised her head.

She strained to hear, but nothing was coming from the living room anymore and she bit her lip. This was strange.

A soft knock came at her door. "Mom?" she called, swinging her legs down so her back was against the window.

The door opened and her mother stuck her head around the doorjamb. She looked flustered. "Lindsay…there's…there's someone here to see you."

"Is it Greg?" Lindsay asked, starting to worry at the confusion on her mother's face.

"No. No, it's…well…you'd better come see." And then she was gone.

Lindsay stayed where she was until she heard her mother's soft footsteps heading back down the stairs. Pushing herself up, she tucked her hair behind her ears and absently smoothed her shirt down before walking slowly from the room.

She nervously bit at her lips, already raw from earlier that day, as she padded down the stairs and stepped into the living room. Then she froze.

Danny turned from facing her father and pulled his hands out of his pockets. Her parents were standing on either side of the room, giving Danny a lot of space, as if unsure what to do with the stranger in the house. All three of them looked to her for action, and all she could do was stare.

He'd taken off his jacket and scarf, which she could see tossed over a chair out of the corner of her eye. Finally, he spoke. "Hey, Montana."

There was a couch and a coffee table in between them, but somehow Lindsay was around them and in his arms before anyone could blink. She didn't realize she was shaking until his arms went around her and she felt how solid and stable he was.

"What are you doing here?" she managed to whisper, her face buried securely in his neck.

She felt him shrug a little. "You didn't call. I was worried."

The answer surprised her into a little laugh. Sniffling quietly, she pulled back, unable to look at him as her arms fell away. She felt him smooth strands of hair from her face, and he ducked so she had to meet his eyes. "You okay?" he asked seriously.

Seeing his very real concern, she took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay," she murmured. Suddenly remember that her parents were gaping at her, she turned to find them staring. "Um, Mom, Dad, this is Danny Messer. We work together in New York," she tacked on after a pause, lacking a better way to define their relationship.

Her mother recovered first and nodded. "Yes, he introduced himself a few minutes ago. It's nice to meet you, Danny. Would you—" she paused. "Would you like some tea? Or coffee?"

"That would be great, Mrs. Monroe," he said, nodding his head politely.

Her voice was faint, but she smiled approvingly at him. "Call me Molly. Everybody else does."

Danny flashed her his trademark grin. "All right, Molly."

Lindsay was amused to see her mother get a little more flustered. Danny's charm really was potent. Her father, on the other hand, was looking a little bit like a brick wall with his arms crossed over his chest and his face blank. When he opened his mouth, though, her mother cut him off.

"Gordon, could you help me in the kitchen?"

"Mom," Lindsay cut in, holding up her hand. "You guys go on to bed. I'll finish up the dishes and make the tea."

Molly smiled affectionately at her. "Thank you, sweetheart. Danny," she said, turning her warm gaze back to him. "Did you have a chance to make a reservation at the hotel?"

Danny shook his head. "I flew out in a hurry. I'll just drive over there later and—" he stopped when both Lindsay and her mother bit their lips. "What?"

"Mr. Edwards doesn't exactly stay late in the office," Lindsay explained, glancing at the clock behind them. "In fact, he's probably already gone."

Danny blinked at her. "You're kidding, right?"

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Welcome to Bozeman."

Molly fidgeted nervously and glanced at Gordon who just shook his head tiredly. "I'll get the guest room ready."

"Molly," Gordon murmured. "Maybe we should send him to Brad's."

"He's already in bed by now," she argued quietly. "He's heading out to the north pasture in the morning, remember?"

Lindsay winced as her parents glanced at her with that worried look, but couldn't bring herself to explain the situation. When her mother saw Danny's shuttered expression, she sighed. "I'm sorry, Danny. It's not that we don't want you to stay here."

"It's all right, I understand," he said politely.

"No, you don't," she said, shaking her head. "Lindsay has been having nightmares and—"

"Mom," Lindsay cut her off quickly, her arms wrapping around her middle as Danny's gaze swung to her. "It's all right. I'll just take a sleeping pill."

Gordon walked from the room without another word and Molly nodded. "I'll go put fresh sheets on the bed. Sleep well, Danny. It's wonderful to have you."

"Good night," he called after them.

Silence fell upon the room and Lindsay found she still couldn't look at him. "Lindsay," he murmured, gently touching her arm.

She smiled tightly and glanced somewhere in the vicinity of his left ear. "Tea?" she asked, heading across the front entry and through the dining room towards the kitchen.

He followed at a slower pace and by the time he reached the doorway at the other end of the dining room, she was already filling the kettle at the sink. He leaned against the jamb, watching her as she set the kettle on the stove and lit the range. Then she bustled across the room to a set of cabinets and opened them to pull out two mugs.

"Need some help?" he asked.

"No, I've got it. Thanks," she added with a smile as she glanced over her shoulder. He was pretty sure she didn't look directly at him, though, and the idea made him uncomfortable.

"You been having bad dreams?"

He saw her falter as she disappeared around the corner of another doorway. She didn't answer, and he moved across the kitchen to find her in another small room lined with shelves, all of which were stuffed with dry foods, jars of fruit and vegetables, sacks of potatoes, onions, sugar. He blinked in surprise as he watched her stretch to bring down a box.

Pulling out two teabags, she turned to find him blocking the doorway. She caught her breath quietly, and he frowned as he stepped to the side. Smiling tremulously, she brushed past him and returned to the mugs.

"Did they start when you got out here? Or did they start back in New York?"

He watched her profile as she bit her lip and shook her head. "Came back."

"What?"

Her eyes were still focused on the teabags as she wrapped their strings around the handles of the mugs. "I've been having them for a long time. They came back in New York."

Nodding, Danny tucked his fingers in the pockets of his jeans and leaned against the wall. Turning towards him, she crossed her arms over her chest and rested one hip against the counter. They waited in silence as the sound of the steam moving in the kettle got louder.

"Does Mac know you're here?" she asked quietly, her eyes flicking up at his face for a moment.

Danny smirked a little. "He ordered me to take a few days off, but he's not aware I'm in Montana, no."

She smiled slightly then frowned. "Why did he tell you to take a few days off? Are you okay?"

Chuckling a little, Danny shrugged. "Apparently, I've been a little distracted lately."

Finally meeting his eyes, her brow furrowed. "Why?"

His smirk softened, and he crossed his arms over his chest. "I only had paperwork lined up for the next few days anyway."

Getting his meaning, Lindsay felt the blush rise in her cheeks and looked away. The kettle started to whistle and Lindsay turned off the heat. She glanced at him as she wrapped a towel around the handle of the kettle and poured the steaming water into their mugs.

"So, you got a few days off and you came here," she said incredulously. She started to hand him a mug, then stopped and blinked. "How do you take your tea?"

He shrugged. "No idea. Don't usually drink it."

The laugh seemed to surprise her because she stopped more quickly than would have been natural, but he was happy to hear it. She looked tired, and thin, almost gaunt really. She'd always been skinny, but now she was barely there. Deep shadows circled under her eyes, too, but those had been building even before she left so they weren't much of a surprise.

"It's just chamomile," she told him as she finally passed him the mug.

With that, she poured out the rest of the water from the kettle, picked up her own mug and began walking back towards the living room. He watched her, cradling his first homemade mug of tea, and was struck by the foreign quality of it all. He felt out of place, like a kid who didn't know which fork to use.

He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but he'd apparently been right on the first try; life in Montana was much different than New York.

Lindsay curled up on one end of the couch with her mug, her legs tucked neatly under her. He leaned into the opposite corner, eyeing the tea in his mug distrustfully. She smiled a bit as he blew on it and took a careful sip.

Hiding her smile behind her mug, she took a sip of her tea and watched as he tried it again. "Sticking to coffee?" she asked.

"Maybe," he agreed with a chuckle.

She stirred in her seat. "I'll get you something else."

"Don't worry about it," he said, standing before she could and heading back to the kitchen. She could see him through the various doorways as he poured the tea down the sink and moved to throw away the teabag.

Lindsay stared at his back, watching as he moved with thoughtless grace around her mother's kitchen. When he finished washing his mug, he quickly dried it and put it away. Then he was walking back towards her and she felt something well up inside her.

Gratitude. Pure, unadulterated gratitude for having this man in her life. Despite everything she'd put him through, he flew across the country because he thought she needed his support.

And suddenly, in the face of his obvious care and borderline ridiculous tenacity, she couldn't fathom not trusting him with everything. It was suddenly—painfully—obvious that he could handle whatever she could dish out.

He licked his lips as he tiredly dropped down on the other end of the couch. She watched him, a small smile on her face, as he sank back into the corner. Raising a hand, he pushed his glasses up and rubbed his eyes exhaustedly.

When his hand dropped again and his head raised, his gaze caught hers. He blinked at the soft smile on her face and stared right back at her, unsure how to react to this unprecedented behavior. As the smile slid from her face, his brows came together.

"I was eighteen."

Her voice was barely louder than a whisper, but his entire body froze.

"We were all eighteen, Except for Katie," she amended, finally dropping her eyes from his. "Her birthday wasn't until August. But we were all about to graduate.

"Shelby and I basically grew up in each other's houses. Her family owns the next farm down the road to the south, but she spent most of her time here. She and her mother didn't get along very well," she added as a whispered after-thought.

"We were exact opposites. Always had been. I was born in winter; she was born in spring. I was short and brown all over; she was tall, blonde, green eyed and pale. I was a bookworm and kind of quiet; she hated reading and sassed anyone that walked by. But she was my best friend."

Lindsay's eyes closed as she said this last part. Taking a gulp of tea, she continued before he could speak. "In junior high, kids started being bussed in from way out in the sticks, and we all stayed together through high school. That's when Shelby and I met Toni. Shelby made some other friends on the cheerleading squad that we all ended up hanging out with, but I never really got close with any of the others except Toni. Shel had tried to get us to try out with her, but I told her that I'd rather have my eyes dug out with spoons."

Danny's snort of laughter made her glance up with a wan smile. "I joined the science club instead.

"Toni was obsessed with art. She could tell you the most obscure facts about artists," Lindsay said. "Like…she was the one that told me that Winslow Homer was banned from museums for trying to touch up his paintings."

Danny smiled a little, but was watching her carefully. She took a deep breath and plowed on. "Sorry. I've never tried to tell anyone about this before. I don't know how to tell it without starting at the beginning."

He shook his head. "Just keep talking," he said gently.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she breathed in through her nose and held the air in her lungs for a moment. "Shelby was the beauty queen at our school, of the whole state, actually. Her mom started making her enter pageants when she was five. She hated it, which is probably why she spent so much time here. That and she had a crush on my brother," Lindsay added, the corner of her mouth turning up a bit.

"Toni was the resident artist. I was the brain. We were a pretty tight group. People used to call us the three musketeers. Kids don't have much of an imagination I guess," Lindsay joked weakly. She stopped for a moment, remembering, then shook her head to regain her train of thought.

"We were all about to graduate. Shelby didn't have any plans, yet. She didn't want to go to college, but she was threatening to live on my dorm room floor. Toni got accepted to an art school in California. I was heading off to Princeton. At least, I was supposed to be," she murmured, staring down into her mug.

"About a week before graduation, Shelby decided that we needed one last high school hurrah. Translation, she wanted to get wasted out by the old barn."

Glancing at him, she explained, "It was the original barn that the town raised way back in, like, 1880. It's practically useless now, one wall's almost completely gone, and we just keep it around for historical value. High school kids go there to drink, blast music, and hang out in their trucks. I was always our designated driver," she added in a wry tone.

He chuckled, as if he couldn't help it and she glanced up. His eyes had softened with what looked like affection and she dropped her gaze again, sure she'd cry if he kept looking at her like that. Clearing her throat, she tucked her hair behind her ear and forced herself to continue. The conversation was only going to get harder.

"So, the Friday before finals, we planned to head out to the barn after dinner. Toni, Shelby and our friends Katie and Gwen were going to spend the night at my house that night, so we had to wait for the other three to be done with cheerleading practice. I can't remember what I did for that last hour," Lindsay murmured. "I know Toni and I must have been together, but I can't for the life of me remember anything about it.

"We went to the gym and Shelby was waiting with Katie, but Gwen had taken off for work. She was a waitress at Mel's, this little diner in the middle of town. We went there all the time; it was kind of like our hang out, I guess."

Her fingers were untying the tassels on her mother's throw blanket, but she didn't notice. "He must have followed us inside, maybe he'd been following us since we left school, I have no idea. We just weren't paying attention. Shelby was doing an impression of Mr. Leister, our chemistry teacher, to annoy me. She always did that," Lindsay whispered, her eyes going wide and blank.

"We were the only customers that afternoon. The others were laughing too loud, and I was too busy being sulky to notice him walking towards the booth. Toni and I went up to the counter to get the milkshakes from Gwen. The other waitress had gone to the bathroom or something; I don't know where she was. Behind me, I heard Shelby laugh and ask 'What's wrong?' That's when the gun went off the first time…before I'd turned around."

Lindsay felt Danny's body jerk involuntarily and her body took on a fine trembling. "He didn't even pause before he turned the gun on Katie. Toni and Gwen were screaming, but I couldn't make a noise. I was completely frozen. I remember Toni grabbing my arm and pulling me after her, telling me to run, but we weren't fast enough. I don't know if he shot Gwen or Toni first. I was hit in the stomach and shoulder as we fell, so I know he got Toni before me. She pulled me down with her.

"I was awake for a long time—it felt like forever—it couldn't have been more than a few minutes, though. I think the other girls were, too, but I only saw Toni. She was right next to me. I remember hearing whimpering, then weaker screams as he pulled out a knife. I was told later that he gutted Katie, Gwen and Shelby. Gutted them like they were animals. While I was lying there, I watched Toni's eyes go flat, her body get still. I remember thinking that she looked smaller somehow.

"That's the last thing I remember about that day. Next thing I knew, I was waking up in the hospital a week later and all my friends were dead."

She'd run out of words. The silence dragged on, and she couldn't bring herself to look at or speak to him. Finally, he ran a hand over his face.

"Lindsay," he said, his voice a rough murmur. "I am so sorry."

The pity she heard made her back straighten. She didn't need his pity. "There's more." He froze again, probably because her voice was so hard this time.

"Their mothers came to see me. All of them. Each one wanted to know what happened. Why it happened. Gwen's mom asked me how I'd survived. I told her I didn't know. Then she asked me what I'd done that Gwen hadn't. Why did I deserve to live? I didn't have an answer. Still don't.

"After awhile, I convinced myself that I'd survived so that the bastard who did it would pay for what he'd done. But that didn't work out. I slept for a week after surgery." She laughed bitterly. "By the time they got a description of him from me, he was long gone."

"Who was he?" Danny asked.

"I have no idea. I'd seen him around town maybe a couple of weeks before working on a new building, but that was it. He was a drifter that happened to pass through Bozeman on his way somewhere else, I guess."

"So this is why you became a CSI," Danny surmised. Lindsay nodded. "And you came to New York to get away."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Honestly, I just wanted to. Even when I was a kid, I wanted to live somewhere else. See what it was like to live a different life. If it hadn't been New York, it would have been San Francisco or Los Angeles. Seattle maybe."

She swallowed. "I really thought I'd put the past behind me before I left. I thought I'd accepted the fact that I was never going to find him, never see him pay. And for a while, I was fine. I loved New York. Everything was new and different, always exciting. The nightmares even stopped.

"But then little things started creeping up on me. The kids Darius murdered messed with my head a bit, but I got over it. Sarah Butler made me pause. Then the Hollys case happened and that gun was in my face and I was eighteen again. I started seeing my friends' faces in every victim. I'd wake up screaming from dreams I couldn't remember for the life of me.

"Three months ago, the Bozeman sheriff called. He told me they'd caught the guy and that they'd need me to testify."

Danny sat perfectly still for a moment. "I'm sorry."

This time there didn't seem to be any pity in his voice, and she raised her eyes from the throw blanket to study him. When he met her gaze, she was surprised to see a gentle look there, but no pity.

She shrugged for lack of a better response.

His brow creased and he seemed to hesitate. "How did you keep it together for so long?" he finally asked.

"I didn't. I just tried to pretend it wasn't happening. When I couldn't anymore, I had to come back here anyway and I told Mac I had to leave."

"And he just let you?"

Lindsay shrugged. "He let you." She was surprised to see his cheeks flush slightly. If she hadn't been studying his face, she wouldn't even have noticed. "Besides, he knew about the situation when he hired me. I'm sure he assumed this would happen eventually."

Danny nodded slowly. "So Mac knew, all this time, what you'd been through?"

He didn't sound accusing, just a little concerned, but she felt a flush of guilt anyway. "I'm sorry. I asked him not to say anything to anyone," she explained.

Danny leaned forward. "Hey, you have nothing to be sorry for. I wish I could have been there for you, that's all."

"You're here now." She smiled tremulously at him. "Will you come to the trial tomorrow?"

His answering smile was crooked, but he merely nodded and relief spread through her. Her eyes dropped for a moment, and she regarded the now ruined tassels with disgust. Sighing, she tossed the blanket aside and pushed herself up from the couch.

"I think it's time for bed. You must be exhausted," she said suddenly, taking in the red tinge to his eyes for the first time.

"Montana, you really don't have to worry about me right now."

She could feel her cheeks warm a bit and hurried away. "I'll go check and see if there are sheets on the bed."

"I think your mom did that," he called, but she was already tripping up the stairs.

Shaking his head, he picked up the bag he'd left next to the couch and started to follow her. At the doorway, he paused and glanced up the stairs. Exhaustion filled him when he thought about everything she'd told him. Leaning against the doorjamb, he ran a hand over his face and willed the anger roiling in his stomach to calm down. She didn't need to see his hatred of the man who did this, she needed him to be solid for her.

She had to be the strongest person he knew for living with this for ten years. He wasn't sure if she had full blown PTSD or simply a case of survivor's guilt, but he didn't have much experience with either so he was going to have to feel his way very carefully.

He trudged up the stairs and looked around curiously. Pictures decorated the walls and he glanced at them as he moved down the hall. School photos and baby photos blended in with the more candid shots of kids playing. At first glance, he thought there were three Monroe kids, but he couldn't spot any school pictures for the second boy in the photographs, so maybe he was a neighbor's kid. He looked about Lindsay's brother's age. Another little girl, blonde and pretty, appeared in several of the photos with Lindsay. Shelby.

Feeling like an intruder, Danny glanced away and peered into the first open door. It was pink. With a canopy bed and window seat. Bookshelves lined almost every wall and were stuffed to capacity.

Danny blinked. Pink? Not at all what he'd expected of Lindsay's room.

Backing away, he continued down the hall and glanced into the next open door. Lindsay was smoothing wrinkles out of the quilt spread over the bed. She glanced up when he stepped inside.

"Your room is pink," he stated, folding his arms across his chest.

She sighed. "My mother's choice. I was ten."

Smirking, he leaned back against the wall and glanced down at the hardwood floor. Remembering their long ago conversation about hardwood and Bronx marble, he didn't hear her question.

"Danny?"

"What?" he asked, his gaze jerking back to hers.

She smiled gently. "I asked if you brought a toothbrush. The bathroom's down the hall," she added, pointing vaguely as he stepped forward to set his bag on the bed. "Let me know if you need anything."

She was almost out the door, and he was still struggling to find something to say, when she turned back. "Danny?"

He whirled around to face her. "Yeah?"

"Thank you. For coming."

"You're welcome," he murmured.

Their eyes held for a moment. He felt a smile spread slowly across his face as color rose in her cheeks. "Good night," she said quickly and disappeared around the corner.

The smile didn't fade as he unpacked his toothbrush and headed down the hall.

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notesofwimsey: Thanks for reviewing! (I would like to state here that, while I have not reviewed on IaLJH, I have been following it almost religiously. Please update again soon. ) I'm glad you see Danny the way I do. I'm halfway surprised he HASN'T given up on Lindsay yet in the show. She pushed him away pretty effectively. I just hope the writers mend everything soon. I miss my flirty banter fix every week.

prplerayne: Thanks for reading and reviewing! I hope you liked this chapter as well. : )

beccy: Thanks for the review! I'm glad the characters don't seem out of sorts; I was a little worried about Lindsay seeming too vulnerable. And Mac is really freaking hard to write. Why is that??

chili-peppers: You're back! Yay! Thanks for reviewing again. I'm glad you like the story so far. : )

Murgy31: Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I hope this chapter was as good as the last!

gt4good: Thanks for the review! I hope you keep reading and, more importantly, enjoying.

mel60: "Stuck" with your encouragement? Try grateful for. I'm really hoping they keep in the "I'm losing my mind" speech, too. I don't really care how they do it (as long as it's about Lindsay) as long as they don't cut it like they've cut everything else. Grumble. I feel very protective of DL at the moment. :-p

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A.N. I hope Lindsay's story wasn't too graphic; I was trying to be disturbing but not nauseating. Next chapter will be up tomorrow!