Disclaimer: No infringement of copyright is intended. All characters originated with CSI:NY. Poetry not otherwise referenced is original.

A/N: Yet another thank-you, this time to SavvyAngel, who kindly gave me permission to use my favourite new word to describe Adam and his ilk! Merci beaucoup!

Spoiler Alert: Spoilers for Seasons 2 & 3, up to and including "Silent Night".

Obsession

And just when I thought I had figured me out

Knew where I was going and why

And just when I knew what I wanted and whom

I turned back and opened my eyes

'Cause I thought that the world was shades of deep blue

But it turns out to be only colours of you

And where I was going has vanished away

While I stopped to take breath and start a new day

And now I know that I know nothing at all

Except you.

SMT2007

Chapter 24: Turning a Corner

"It's an interesting place, Lissa. Have you been there?" Hawkes barely noticed her nod as he went on, "They have a little courtyard in between all the buildings, in the centre of the block. It is full of trees and plants – I don't know how they grow there without much sun. The children in the neighbourhood seem to spend time there after school; they all were pretty comfortable with the doctors. And Rica – have you met her?"

Lissa nodded again, opening her mouth to speak, but Hawkes talked right over her, "She knows everybody, been around forever, she says. She made me think of your grandmother, you know? She was like that – she'd have been in everybody's business and helped keep them on the straight and narrow."

The food came to the table, and Lissa took the opportunity to finally break in, "So, you liked the place?"

Hawkes laughed at her wry tone, and slowed down. He took a bite of the pasta he had ordered without paying much attention, and then smiled at her, "Yes. I liked the place. Are you still thinking of working there?"

Lissa took a bite of her pasta, then reached over and took a bite of his to compare. "I would in a flash, but I don't know how much longer they'll be able to keep going."

"How come? They seem to be doing good business." Hawkes speared a piece of Italian sausage off Lissa's plate and tried it.

"Well, free clinic, right? The more people in, the more expensive it is to run. And I heard that the funding is in some trouble."

"Who funds it?"

Lissa propped her chin up on her hand and looked at Hawkes, "Hard to tell, which is the other thing that makes me a little nervous. I know Nasreen put a lot of money into it when she joined. And I mean a lot. Miriam and Kathleen couldn't have kept going without it."

"Where did it come from? Do you know?"

"I heard it was insurance. Her husband was a lawyer with the UN, moved down from Canada. He was killed the day of 9/11, shot dead in the street. The police never solved the crime. Word is they didn't try too hard."

Hawkes opened his mouth, whether to defend the police or not, he wasn't sure.

Lissa put up a hand to stop him, anyway, shrugging, "I know, I know. There was a lot going on at the time, but it took them nearly a week even to interview the family, and only then because of the UN connection. Nasreen seems not to feel any bitterness; she just says …"

"It was a bad time," Hawkes completed the sentence.

"She told you," Lissa looked at him curiously.

Hawkes just nodded.

"Anyway, there are other rumours – that there is international money being funneled through the clinic; that the funders are backing other, not so legitimate businesses. It's not a popular place, so if talk can bring it down, they'll use that. It's not as messy as bombs."

Hawkes' eyebrows rose.

"No one seems to be making much money, though, so I don't know whether there is any truth to it. I do know that every doctor has had her share of death threats." She shrugged again at Sheldon's shocked look.

"They do abortions, Shel, as well as give out birth control. Radicals on all sides don't like women taking care of women, I guess."

"Who are the threats from specifically?"

"No one – not specifically. The beat cops do hourly drive-bys to keep an eye on things, but otherwise there isn't much anyone can do." Lissa took a sip of wine and applied herself to her pasta.

Hawkes looked at her; some of the light she usually radiated seemed to have gone out. He put a gentle hand on her arm, "What's up, Lissa? You seem a little off tonight."

She looked down at his hand, swallowed hard, then summoned a smile. "I'm sorry, Sheldon, I think I'll have to cut tonight short. I have a headache and it just isn't going away. Look, I'm just going to get a cab home, okay?"

Sheldon looked at her with concern, "Don't be silly; I'm parked just down the block. Come on, I'll take you home."

He didn't listen to her protest, sorting out the bill, running to get the car, and tucking her into the front seat carefully. He didn't ask her any questions as he drove her home; he simply drove quickly and efficiently, stopping just outside her apartment building. She had her eyes closed, and he reached over to gently touch her arm.

"Lissa? I'll walk you up, okay? You don't look good." He was starting to worry; her eyes were deeply shadowed and her face was a little pulled.

Her eyes flew open and she immediately said, "No, no, don't be silly, Shel. I'm just tired. I'll take something for the head and I'll be fine." She opened the door and started to swing herself out the door, but then stopped and quickly leaned over and pressed her lips to his cheek.

"Thanks, Shel," she said quietly, and in a breath, she was gone.

-CSI:NY-CSI:NY-CSI:NY-CSI:NY-CSI:NY-

"I said no, Danny, and that is all there is to it," Mac's voice was firm as he sat back in his chair behind the desk piled high with case files. He had pulled an all-nighter for the first time in months, and hadn't even made a dent in the paperwork.

"Look, Mac, it's obvious you could use the help," Danny argued. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Lindsay biting her lip, but he ignored her. "I'll stay in the lab, no field work. I'll do short shifts and book out if it gets too much, I swear. But you gotta let me come back to work; I'll go flat out nuts if I have to stay home even one day."

Mac sighed and sat forward, his hands grasped in front of him on top of the most pressing case, one he couldn't even get to because Adam was so backed up in the lab. Six files under that one was the case file for Reed's abduction; he couldn't carve out enough time to even figure out what had happened.

All he knew at the moment was that Reed was safe and at home, having been checked out by the hospital and had his statement taken. Mac had read through it and had sighed for the lack of specifics: he'd been grabbed on his way to the cafeteria Monday night, been held in a room, eyes taped shut, bound and gagged until Wednesday afternoon, when the bindings had been taken off his hands and his cellphone had been dropped beside him. Nothing had been said, no demands had been made, no trace had been found in the room or the building.

"Dr. Martens phoned from Montana before you left, Danny. He said a month. Minimum. You too, Lindsay. Neither of you should be anywhere near the lab right now. Go home. Get some rest. Come and see me next week: we'll set up a return to work schedule. A slow one." His phone rang, and Danny's exclamation of disgust was stifled as Mac put up his hand.

"Excuse me one moment, sir." Mac put his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone and said, "Danny, Lindsay. Could you please give me a minute? Don't go, though. I want to finish this with you." He waited until they had left his office, then turned around to look over the city as the voice on the other end of the phone spoke, his face growing grim and tense as he listened.

Danny leaned against the wall, trying not to glare at Mac through the office window. Lindsay had her arms crossed and was tapping her foot. He glanced at her and grinned, "What?"

She blew a frustrated sigh out, "I told you, Danny. It's too soon. The insurance won't cover us if something goes wrong."

"What could go wrong in the lab?" he countered, the picture of cool logic. "Do you know how many days Hawkes has had off in the past three weeks? Two," he said in answer to the shake of her head. "Two days in three weeks. And one of those he spent chasing down info to help us in Montana. Stella? Adam? They've all been going full out. I may not be fit to go into the field for a week or so, but I can damn well work a microscope."

He ran a gentle finger down Lindsay's cheek, which was still too pale for his liking. "I told you not to come in with me. You should be sleeping."

She smiled at him, "I slept last night. Not quite as well as I did in Montana." Peyton had finally sedated her, but she didn't think she needed to tell Danny that. "I sleep better when you are there."

Danny smiled back, "Me too. Linds, we haven't talked …"

Mac stepped out of his office, "Lindsay? Danny? Could I speak to you both, please?" His face was set and angry.

He motioned for them to sit in front of him, and looked down at his hands before clearing his throat, "I have been authorized to allow you both back on restricted duty, starting tomorrow. That's Friday."

Danny looked up in delight: Lindsay looked at Danny with trepidation. "That's great, Mac. Thanks!"

"It's not great, it's ridiculous. But they just pulled three detectives and a whole team of lab techs off to work on Gerrard's new and improved Organized Crime Unit. So I am even more strapped than I was a week ago. Danny, you are teching for at least two weeks, you got that? No field, no gun, you don't leave the building under any circumstances whatsoever. You mess me around on this and I'll boot you home for the full month, even if I have to train a monkey for the lab work." He turned to Lindsay, "That goes for you too. You are both on restricted assignment; no more than four hours on shift, and if you can't do it, you book out. Nothing gets missed, lost, forgotten, or screwed up because you aren't fit."

"Yes, sir," they said in perfect unison, and Mac sighed.

"I'll see you here tomorrow morning: 9am sharp."

Lindsay smiled, "Thanks, Mac."

"You won't be sorry, boss, I promise," Danny said, as they walked out of the office.

"I already am," Mac grumbled under his breath. But he couldn't quite keep the smile off his face. His team. He had his team back.

-CSI:NY-CSI:NY-CSI:NY-CSI:NY-CSI:NY-

"Hey, Adam! Adam?" Lindsay waved a hand in front of Adam's face, "You okay?"

Adam brought his puzzled gaze from his computer screen to focus on Lindsay and nodded, blushing furiously.

"Well?" she asked expectantly.

"Sorry? Well, what?"

Lindsay sighed a little impatiently. "My results, Adam? Do you have my DNA results yet?"

"Umm, no? There was a bit of a mix-up? I have to do them again, and they'll take a few minutes?" As always, Adam only just managed to keep from stuttering around Lindsay, feeling like he was going to swallow his tongue any minute. His voice rose at the end of most sentences, betraying his uncertainty.

Lindsay slowed her breathing down. There was never any point in abusing Adam and asking him for something he didn't have; it just made him more nervous. Besides, she was tired and sore, and could use a few minutes' break. Coming back to work had been more stressful than she had thought it would be; she kept watching for Danny to crash. So far this morning, he was doing considerably better than she was.

She pulled a chair over with her bad foot and sat down, looking around for another chair to put her foot up on.

Adam followed her gaze and immediately leapt out of his chair, offering it to her. She smiled up at him, her eyes soft. "You don't need to give up your chair, Adam; there's one right over there, if you could grab it?"

Flustered, he did that, and made sure she was comfortable before taking his seat again. He turned back to his computer and realized with a sense of frozen disbelief that Aisha's last email was still on screen. As he moved to close the frame, Lindsay sat forward.

"What are you working on?" she asked casually.

"Nothing. I mean this is nothing. I mean I'm working on your samples, and this is nothing. I was just taking a minute to check my email … I mean … I guess I know I shouldn't really do it at work, but I have a lot of time, you know … I mean sometimes when I am waiting for results, like I am for you right now, you know… and then I sometimes just …" his voice finally gave out, his usually pale face now crimson with embarrassment.

Lindsay looked at him with gentle pity. "Adam, breathe. How much overtime have you put in?"

"Well, I guess about fifteen hours so far, but I'll have to stay late tonight because one of the techs mislabeled all the samples from Hawkes' case with samples from Stella's case, so I'll have to re-run all those, and then there are still some follow-up tests for the pollen case … I'm still trying to isolate the fetal DNA and identify the pollen and determine if there are any usable epithelials on it and …" his voice ran out again as she smiled at him.

"That's fifteen hours overtime this month?"

Flushing again, he shook his head. "Week," he croaked out.

"That's overtime for this week? Oh, Adam, I don't think even Mac could complain about you checking your email on company time when the company owes you so much. Just relax."

"Okay," he nodded jerkily, and turned to close the window.

"Who's the message from?" Lindsay had her eyes closed; she needed to keep talking in order to keep the waiting headache at bay.

Adam jumped a little, and he glanced at her guiltily. "Just a person."

"Hmmm. A guy-type person or a girl-type person?" Lindsay's lips curved into a smile. She was pretty sure what the answer would be, if she could understand it.

"Girl." Adam nearly bit his tongue out.

Lindsay's eyes flew open, and she sat forward with a bit of a grin, grabbing his arm lightly.

"Adam, who is she? Do I know her? How long have you been seeing her? What does she look like? Tell me!" Her eyes shone; she was hardly ever the first to know anything, and Adam with a girlfriend was big news!

"Uh…Uh…Uh…" There was the stuttering, Adam thought, and cursed inwardly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't give you much time to answer, did I?" She smiled charmingly at him. "Let's try it again. What's her name?"

"Aisha."

"Pretty! How long have you been seeing her?" When he shook his head a little violently, Lindsay raised an eyebrow and corrected, "Talking to her?"

He nodded with relief and said, "About four weeks."

"But you haven't met?" Lindsay surmised.

He shook his head, and mumbled, "Stood me up."

"Oh, Adam, I'm sorry. Look, if it's any help, I stood Danny up the first time he asked me out too." Lindsay laughed when Adam sputtered. Honestly, if his eyes got any bigger, they might just fall right out of his head, she thought.

"I was scared; it seemed like such a big step. It took me a while to get up enough courage to try. Maybe Aisha is just shy?'

Adam though about the photograph she had sent him the first week he had been in touch with her, an artistic nude which showed him everything but her face. He shook his head, "Not shy."

Lindsay nodded thoughtfully. "Well, you should keep trying. Who knows? She might be the one!" She stood up to go back to her lab. "Thanks for the chair, Adam. I just needed to get off my foot for a moment. Call me when you get the results, would you?" She smiled at him sweetly and turned to go.

"Ummm, Lindsay?" His voice broke a little on her name, but she turned around and looked at him quizzically as if she hadn't noticed.

"What do you suppose adorkable means?" His face was flaming again.

"Sorry? Adorable?" She furrowed her brow; Adam often spoke too fast for people slower than bats to understand properly.

"No. It says a-dork-able." He motioned to the screen as he pronounced the unfamiliar word slowly.

"Oh. I see." And she did see, she thought. Smiling, she leaned a little towards Adam and put a hand on his shoulder to whisper in his ear. "Don't worry. If it's what I think it is, it's a good thing. Sort of liking you a lot for being the kind of person you are." She walked out of the room, waving to him.

Adam sat frozen in his chair, feeling her breath on his cheek, his body burning where she had touched him.