Ch 6 Fine Again

Disclaimer: I don't own CSI:NY or any of it's central characters. I don't even own the Empire Diner, but it is a real place. While we're at it, I don't own Seether or the song 'Fine Again'. However, I do own my muse.

A/N: Sorry this has taken so long to get to you! I've had computer issues that required me getting a new one. So, enjoy this chapter and I'll see when I can get the next update posted!

I feel the dream in me expire

and there's no one left to blame it on

I hear you label me a liar

'cause I can't seem to get this through

You say it's over, I can sigh again, yeah

Why try to stay sober when I'm dying here

-Seether "Fine Again"

With the combination of rain and midday traffic, the drive to the Empire Diner had taken a full twenty minutes. The relative silence the two occupants of the Chevy Avalanche made the trip in, had only served to make it longer. As they arrived, each person was still lost in their own thoughts. Danny thinking of ways to avoid this discussion with Stella; and Stella thinking of ways to get Danny to open up to her about what was going on before he completely self destructed.

"Here we are," she broke the silence and hopped out of the SUV glad the rain had stopped for the moment, so she wouldn't look like a drowned curly haired rat by the time they got into the dry safety of the diner.

Slowly, Danny followed her inside. Before the door closed behind him, he could have sworn he heard the funeral march being played softly somewhere in the distance. Or maybe it was only in his head; he wasn't sure, and anyway, it didn't matter since he was surely going to be killed, right here, in the middle of the diner.

After being seated in a booth by the window, in one last bid to prolong the inevitable, Danny grabbed a menu and feigned interest as he perused the bountiful selection.

"I thought you weren't hungry," Stella spoke up after she'd opened her own menu.

"I changed my mind. I guess the bottomless pit is still working after all," he replied weakly, not looking up from the menu. "The roast beef on rye sounds good."

"It is, or so I'm told. I haven't tried that, but Mac says it's good. I think I'm going for the chicken plate. That's always good."

She was just about to ask him what was going on between him and Lindsay when the waitress seemingly materialized out of nowhere to take their orders. Once she had gone, Stella dove right in.

"I've noticed you and Lindsay haven't been acting the same lately. Is there something wrong?"

"No, no, everything is fine. We've both just been preoccupied lately. Why would you think something is wrong," Danny tried to brush her question off. The last thing he wanted to do was air his dirty laundry, with Stella of all people. She'd kill him.

"Well, that outburst in the break room didn't seem fine to me. What's going on with you two?"

"It'll blow over Stel, I promise. I just...did something kind of stupid and she's a bit pissed right now, is all." Sure, he knew that she knew he was lying to her, but taking crap for lying to Stella was much more preferable to the crap he would get if he told her what he'd done and with whom.

Thinking of her response while the waitress brought their meals to the table, Stella waited until she'd moved on before she spoke. "Well, I heard the word cheat thrown around in there a lot," she paused to take a couple bites, "and if that's what you did that has her so upset with you, I think she might agree with me that that's not 'kind of stupid'. Am I right in thinking that's what's going on?"

Unable to meet her gaze, Danny just nodded and picked at his food.

"Oh Danny! Who was it," she could feel a migraine coming on, and began rubbing her temples.

"Rikki."

"Sandoval?!"

Again, Danny only nodded in response. Right now, his only hope was that his death would be quick and painless.

Forget the migraine, right now, Stella was struggling to suppress her sudden desire to strangle the living shit out of Danny.

"What in the world were you thinking?"

"That's just it! I wasn't thinking Stel. Ruben died, and I was hurting. Rikki understood that," Danny tried to explain away his actions, yet again, to another person. No matter how many times he gave that reasoning, and no matter who he gave it to, it didn't seem to jive.

Maybe Flack's right; it's just a shit excuse for shit actions.

Sighing, she decided that death by manual strangulation probably would not be as effective as actually talking to him abut this. "So, let me see if I have this right. You were hurting because Ruben died and since Rikki understood that, you slept with her?"

"Yes. Well, no. I mean...it's...it's complicated," Danny finished, knowing she wasn't going to let him get away with that excuse.

"Well, explain it to me then," she wasn't about to let Danny use a shit excuse for hurting her friend. If he were going to ever move on from Ruben's death, he had to face some harsh realities; and right now, the harsh reality was that he fucked up, and Lindsay had left him as a result.

"I don't know how to explain it Stel, it just happened, is all. One minute she was holding his death certificate, crying, and the next we were in my bed."

Cringing slightly, at the mental image he'd just put in her head, "Danny, this didn't 'just happen'. Over the past several months you've gone from being totally devastated over Ruben's death, to being functional at work, to blowing off work; for reasons I still don't know, and then you seem functional at work again." Stella paused to take a few more bites and give him a chance to interject, but he kept silent, so she continued with her point. "And suddenly we have you forgetting Lindsay's birthday; something you haven't done since she started working at the lab, and keeping her at a distance both physically and emotionally, and the icing on the cake is that suddenly you're sleeping with Rikki? No," she shook her head, causing her springy curls to bounce, " that just doesn't add up. What part of the story are you not telling me?"

"Stella, I swear on my Nona's secret spaghetti sauce recipe that's what happened."

Okay, her urge to strangle him was subsiding, but now she really wanted to slap him upside the head...hard. "Okay, let me ask you something. Why do you feel such a pull to Rikki? What is it about her, that has you blowing off your job, friends, girlfriend, and now having an affair," she hoped these questions would help her understand his thinking better; before she broke her promise to Mac, and gave into the urge to cause him bodily harm."

Removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose, Danny gathered his thoughts before looking her straight in the eye and explaining, what he didn't fully comprehend himself, the best he could. " It's not her exactly."

"Well then, what is it, exactly?"

"I was the last one to see Ruben alive! I'm the only connection to him, she has left; and she's the only connection I have left! Don't you get that?"

As soon as the words, left his mouth, he knew that was probably the stupidest thing he could have said. He watched Stella's eyes glint with anger and/or frustration, he wasn't sure which, but probably both; and then she muttered something in Greek, that he was certain he didn't want the English or Italian translations to.

"Lindsay was the last one to see her friends alive, but I'm certain she didn't go and sleep with their fathers' or brothers' just to feel a connection to them! Dammit, Danny, you didn't even know Ruben was shot and Rikki was at home when it happened! Lindsay was there when her friends were killed! She was maybe fifteen feet away at the most, with only a door standing between her and the horror she could hear unfolding! She was only fourteen years old, and she listened to her friends die! Unless Rikki has some similar horror story from her youth, I think Lindsay would be the one who understands how it feels to be on your end of a dead child," she finished with the wind fully out of her sails now.

Shocked, Danny sat there in silence, trying to process what had just happened, as Stella paid their bill, and included a healthy tip for the disturbance she had just caused. "We better get back to the lab," she said pointedly as she headed for the door, Danny following behind her, feeling like a scolded child.

Ten minutes into the ride, Danny finally broke the tense silence that cloaked the air around them, "how do I fix this?"

Taking a moment to decide that honesty was better than giving him what could be false hope, she laid it all out, "Danny, I don't think you can fix this. Lindsay put a lot of faith in you. She trusted you, and you've proven to her that she took a wrong gamble on you."

"If she trusted me so much, then why did she only tell me she loves me after your apartment burned down?"

"She told you she loves you," this was news to Stella. She'd figured such an admission from either of them would take a minor miracle, given how guarded they both are with their emotions.

"Yes, she did...but,"

"But?"

"But she had to figure out how to let that go. She said she wasn't mad at me, but she was mad at herself for falling in love with me."

Pulling into the parking garage of the Crime Lab, "you two need to talk. I mean, seriously sit down and talk. If you can't be open and honest with your emotions, without having a catalyst of some sort, then I don't see how you could ever work. Bottom line is, it all comes down to communication, and you two have shit skills at communicating with each other, unless it's just surface stuff, you understand what I mean," she finished and waited for him to answer before climbing out of the truck.

"Yeah, I get it, Stel. I really do, we need to start over."

"That's an option, but first you need to talk to her and decide that together," she replied pushing thehe elevator button to the thirty-fifth floor.

Once the doors opened, Danny sprinted straight to his and Lindsay's shared office. He wasn't exactly surprised when he didn't see her in there. He figured she'd found something to do around the lab; after all, she hated paperwork just as much as the rest of them, so he set about taking a couple laps around the lab to find her. When his search turned up nothing, he got concerned and headed for Mac's office.

God, I hope she didn't just walk away from everything in favor of starting over some place new.

A quick knock on the door and Mac waved him in.

"Mac, have you seen Lindsay anywhere? I really need to talk to her," he began skipping all formality, and not bothering to disguise the urgency in his voice.

I knew he'd get to this point sometime today.

"Detective Monroe has taken some time off, Danny."

"Time off?" Danny couldn't believe his ears; she had left! "Well, how long did she take off? When will she be back? Where did she go? Who is she with?"

"She's taken some time off to go visit an old friend out of state. As far as where she went, how long she'll be gone, and who she's with; those are questions you'll have to ask her."

Danny was getting down right frustrated with Mac's cool demeanor and the ease with which he avoided divulging any unnecessary information. "Come on Mac! Throw me a bone here! The last time she left, it wasn't a huge secret among the team where she went. Why can't you just tell me?"

"I remember the last time she left Danny. As I recall, you ended up working sixty hours straight, to the point of being delusional; and instead of taking the day, like I'd told you to, you took a plane. I can't have that happening again, especially right now." Mac locked eyes with Danny, clearly conveying that this conversation was over.

Disheartened, Danny walked out of Mac's office and fished his cell phone from his waistband. Dialing the familiar number, he closed the door to his office, for privacy. He just hope she'd answer and would talk to him, when her voice mail kicked on, his mood fell even more, if that was even possible. At the beep he left a message.

"Hey Lindsay, it's me. Danny. Listen, I really, really need to talk to you. I've been thinking about some things, us, and I really want to talk to you. Please, just call me back and hear me out. I love you and I'll never give up on us. I hope you won't either. Call me. Please."

He hung up. All he could do was wait now. The ball was in her court, and he just hoped she'd pick it up and do something.

A/N 2: Well, there's that chapter! I'll see when I can get the new one up. School starts up for me again in exactly thirty days, and I'm also pregnant, so a lot of things are competing for my attention right now.

A/N 3: I know the show said the murders happened ten years ago and that T.V. Guide said Lindsay was fourteen when they happened. However, it makes no sense in my head for her to have been fourteen and the murders only a decade old. So, I decided she's probably about twenty-nine or thirty years old, so I stuck with the fourteen years old idea, but made the time span longer to suit my logic.