A/N: Guest starring… Piper Maru Duchovny's OC Austin Hawthorne! Yes, yes we do cackle evilly and write parallel stories. What?

"You really gonna wear your boots to a crime scene?" Danny asked, raising his eyebrow as he watched Lindsay change her shoes.

"Not just any crime scene, Danny. Rodeo. That means animals. And you know what animals mean."

"I can step around stuff."

"Yeah, we'll see."

"I didn't even know New York had a rodeo."

"I'm sure the rodeo didn't know about New York, so I think we're all even here."

"You love this, don't you?"

"Maybe a little."

Adam entered the room, took one look at her boots and shook his head.

"Not gonna comment. You guys ready?"

"Mac wants all three of us?"

"We've got a lot of ground to cover it seems. He wasn't specific."

They nodded and grabbing their kits, the three of them headed out. They played Rock, Paper, Scissors to determine who would get to drive and control the radio, and possibly because of her exuberance, Lindsay was declared the winner with a stealthy scissors to Danny's paper. She was a little too happy about going to a crime scene, and Adam and Danny had a small argument about who was going to have to sit in the front with her. Finally Adam just jumped in the back, rather looking forward to watching Danny squirm through the country music.

"We'd better use the GPS because as long as much of the city as I know, I have no clue where this place is," Danny said, rolling his window down.

"I'll use it, but is there anyway we can change her voice? That "turn right at next light" makes me want to chuck her out the window."

Adam chuckled from the back seat.

"What, you want Sean Connery directing your driving?"

"It would make it more enjoyable."

"Sean Connery? He's two hundred years old."

"He's like cheese," she responded, pulling the car out into traffic.

"What?"

"Gets better with age," Adam answered for her. She nodded and Danny rolled his eyes. This was going to be a very long day.

"Calvin Whitlock. Gate opened over there, dude fell off right there, was gored right there, ended up here."

"Nice, Hawthorne."

"What Messer, can't handle it?"

"You're such a lady."

"The decedent was attached to the raging bull and was thrown in such a manner that the animals horn pierced-"

"Okay, I get it."

Lindsay didn't miss the look that passed between Danny and Detective Austin Hawthorne and she had to hold back the smirk. She'd bet her best Stetson on this being the woman he'd talked to her about before.

"We're still trying to sort out witness accounts and as you can imagine there's a lot of trauma to the body, but the gunshot wound gives us a pretty good place to start. Geez, Messer, you couldn't dodge it, could ya?"

"These were new!" he exclaimed, looking down at his dirty shoes.

"That'll teach ya to make fun of my boots," Lindsay said, crouching down to look at the mangled hand of the unfortunate bull rider. "He's married?"

"Yeah. Flack is talking to the wife right now."

Lindsay nodded and stood up.

"Which stall was he in? I want to start there."

"Over there," Austin said, gesturing to the other side of the arena. "He wasn't supposed to be riding yet. Came out between two other guys. I'm thinking there was a lot he wasn't planning on today."

Lindsay walked carefully to the stall giving it a good look around before pulling out the camera and starting to document every shoe print and partial hoof print. Most of it was indistinguishable from everything else, but she did find one smaller boot print near the back of the stall.

"Hey Linds?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to head into the back. You got an extra flashlight?"

"Didn't stock your kit?"

"Batteries are getting low. Someday I am going to figure out how to fuel these things with slush hydrogen."

"Right, because that is fiscally conservative."

"No one said it had to be."

"Adam, I don't know what to do with you," she muttered, handing him her flashlight.

"Gossip with me. What kind of vibes are you reading about that over there?"

He gestured over to Danny and Austin who were crouched over the body, discussing the various injuries.

"I don't read vibes, Adam."

"Come on."

"Okay, first impression? They know each other really well. They drive each other nuts. He's in love with her. You go."

"Ditto."

She grinned and rolled her eyes before returning back to her work, focusing on gathering prints from the back end of the stall. Something felt weird here. It was almost as if the sound had dulled and she was stuck inside her head, transported back to a world that she desperately wanted to forget, and desperately wanted to get back to.

"Hey," Adam said softly, touching her arm. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just makes me a little homesick is all."

"The smell of manure makes you homesick. It's hard, but I still love you."

"I like the smell of skunk too. Stick that in your juice box and suck it."

"I just got that vomit taste in my mouth."

"My work here is done."

"Evil woman."

Lindsay sipped the hot coffee thoughtfully as she looked over the crime scene photos. It had been such a mess there, a chaos of trace evidence and dirt, and none of them really knew where to begin. Her eyes were tired from processing little bits of evidence, her throat was sore from talking to suspects and her head hurt from all the thinking.

"How's it going?" Adam asked from the doorway.

"I hate when I know what I'm doing but I don't know what I'm doing."

"I know what you mean. Do you know what time it is?"

"I'm guessing late?"

"Everyone else went home."

"Are you suggesting I follow their lead?"

"I'm just thinking you've been up for a long time," he answered, coming to stand behind her. "It might be advantageous for you to catch a few winks."

His hands rested on her shoulders and rubbed gently, and she could feel the exhaustion catching up with her.

"Go home," he whispered. "You need rest."

"I can't. Something about this case just isn't sitting right with me."

"Tell me about it."

"Calvin Whitlock is in the pen, waiting for his chance to ride. Those pens are small, Adam. No one else can really get in there. Plus there's a bull in there and it's big and it's mad. No one could get out of there without injury. And even if they could, why would one of his competitors take the time to climb into the pen and kill him? Why not later in a more deserted place? This wasn't a crime of revenge or opportunity. Someone was trying to say something here."

"Who?"

"I have no idea. And we never found the shell casing. That's really bugging me."

"Linds."

"I know. I'll know when I've slept, my work is going to get sloppy if I don't rest. I've heard it all before."

"Maybe it's true then."

She sighed for what felt like the thousandth time as his hands gently kneaded at her neck and shoulders.

"Come on, I'll take you home."

"It's out of your way."

"Not that far. Let's go."

She nodded and secured the file then followed him to the elevator. Once inside he drew her into his arms letting her rest against him as the elevator slowly descended. She was quiet but he could still hear the wheels turning in her head.

"Turn it off," he said, tapping her forehead. She grinned against his chest.

"I'm commencing shut down mode now, but I have to wait for background programs to close and Windows has 7 updates to install."

He snickered as the elevator stopped and he had to release her.

"You've been hanging around me too much, geek."

"I hope I don't get beat up on the playground."

"Nah, you're too pretty."

She smiled as they walked out to his car, closing her eyes as soon as she buckled her seat belt.

"You were right," she muttered, cracking her eye open to look at him. "You win."

"Winner, winner winner, oh the chicken dinner," he sang in a helium voice. She smirked and closed her eyes again, amused that the man who sang to her in such a voice was also the man that she trusted enough to keep her safe while he drove. She could never sleep in a car. Even when her dad was the one driving, she'd lay with her eyes closed, but still be awake. With Adam it was comfortable and natural. It was right.

She stirred when the car stopped, opening her eyes to find him grinning at her. He tucked her hair behind her ear and stroked her cheek with his thumb.

"Want me to come up and check for boogey men in the closet?"

"Sure."

They got out of the car and walked slowly up the stairs, the silence comfortable between them. He held her hand gently as they walked, not too tight to control her movements, but not too loose as if he didn't care. She yawned as they reached her door, fumbling in her pocket for the keys.

"Man, your motor skills tonight leave something to be desired," he commented. She chuckled as he reached into her coat pocket to grab the keys.

"Hey there mister, don't get handsy."

"You need sleep so bad."

"I don't think I can make it," she said as the door swung open.

"Well alright," he said, swinging her up into his arms. She grinned as he shut the door behind them and carried her into her bedroom. He gently settled her on the bed and took her shoes off before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Night, hon. Sleep good."

He kissed her softly before pulling the quilt up around her shoulders.

"I love you."

"Love you too."

"It was the wife," Lindsay said as she walked into Mac's office the next morning. Everyone looked up at her as she dropped the file onto the desk and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I like that you cut to the chase Lindsay, but I'm going to need more here," Mac said with a lifted eyebrow.

"Now I know that this wasn't even the professional circuit, but to Calvin Whitlock, that didn't matter. All he wanted was to be successful in the rodeo. Everyone we talked to said the same thing. It was what he loved. Except he had a wife. And while she loved and supported her husband, at the end of the day, she was a rodeo widow."

"That like a golf widow?" Danny asked.

"Yeah, except rodeo widows have to worry about their husbands getting maimed while golf widows only have to worry about their husbands getting drunk in the country club bar."

"Ouch."

"Cassie was jealous. She probably begged him to stop, spend more time with the family. She wanted him home and she was scared of what he was doing. If Calvin would have won, he would have gone on to the professional circuit. That means less time together. The minute he got into that pen and got onto that bull, he told her what his choice was. As any good rodeo wife does, she climbed on the slats of the pen to give him a good luck kiss. Only she was carrying that gun with her. If he was going to choose the rodeo over her, then he could have it. Look, I'm not saying that I have enough evidence to back this one up, but we have spent a whole day looking at all the guys he was competing against. Maybe we need to try another angle."

"Well I'm convinced," Austin said finally, standing up from her chair. "She's been diagnosed with post traumatic stress, but I am betting the wife is suffering from guilt more than anything. I think I'm going to go hang around the hospital and see how much water this theory holds."

"I suppose that because of her nervous breakdown, we haven't been taking a clear look at Cassie Whitlock," Mac said contemplatively, thumbing through the file. "Lindsay, I need you to go back over the data we got on the bullet trajectory, do a mock up of possible heights and positions of the shooter. Adam, Danny, I want you back at the crime scene. We still haven't found gunshot residue on the clothes of anyone. I want to know where it is."

The team left Mac's office, all heading off to do their assigned tasks.

"You listened to Garth Brooks this morning, Linds?" Adam asked just before she stepped into the lab.

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't."

"Wait, you broke the case with a country song?" Danny asked, giving her a skeptical look.

"Well, I didn't break the case, I just had an idea."

"You're so modest."

"Don't get her started," Adam said, shaking his head and clapping Danny on the shoulder.

It was a hospital bed confession full of tears and attempts to convince that the whole thing had just been an accident. Once all the evidence came together, it was pretty clear that the whole thing had gone down just the way that Lindsay said; a woman unable to enjoy the fact that her husband was happy, a woman unable to live even a little bit of her life alone.

Austin came back to the lab with a grimace on her face and a newfound distaste for all people in general. Danny kidded her until she punched him in the shoulder, and Lindsay shook her head.

"You just don't know when to shut up, do you Danny?"

"Not my fault no one ever taught me."

"Keep it up and I think Austin's gonna teach you with her other fist."

Austin chuckled and nodded.

"Monroe speaks the truth… Droopy Drawers."

Danny sliced a glare in her direction and Lindsay giggled.

"I am so glad nobody here knew me when I was a kid. Makes it much easier to mock those plagued with a bad nickname."

"Nicknames aren't all I've got on this one," Austin said, ruffling his hair. He growled and pushed her hand away.

"Careful of what you say, woman. I can still recite word for word the love song you wrote me when you were twelve."

"Shut up, Daniel Demonic."

Lindsay chuckled as she turned back to the file folder in front of her.

"I am pretty sure the two of you are probably going to kill each other one day."

"Yeah, but at least we'll have fun before that."

Lindsay shook her head as she watched them continue to argue back and forth, their verbal insults flying with gentle stings that would have made her squirm had they not been trying so hard not to laugh.

"Raise your hand if you're starving," Adam said as he came into the room.

Three hands went up in response.

"Good. Cuz Stella and Mac are arguing about what to order and I think we need more opinions on this one."

"You know, we should really just start going out places so everyone can get what they want," Lindsay said.

"Yeah, yeah, you're so smart."

After much hemming and hawing, they all ended up at a rundown honky-tonk, sitting on upturned barrels at an old wooden table. Flack had suggested that in keeping with the theme of the case a honky-tonk was as good a place as any. Of course all eyes turned to Lindsay who held up her hands in innocence.

But that's where they ended up, cracking peanuts open and laughing as they recalled old cases. Flack did impressions of suspects complete with facial expressions and hand gestures, while Danny described in perfect detail the fashion faux pas of some of the more colorful characters.

They sat there for hours, trying Rocky Mountain Oysters, sharing a gigantic plate of nachos and forgetting that they lived lives that forced them to deal with death every day. Lindsay sat back and watched, silent for the most part, enjoying the observation. She couldn't help but thing about all of the what ifs of life, wondering if taking a different path would still have led her to this moment. She watched Danny, playing over in her head how things would have gone had she given in and dated him. It would have been fun for a while of course. She may have even been able to fall in love with him. But Danny Messer didn't come drama free, and she wasn't sure that she was the woman that would be strong enough to hold on when he ran. It could have been something, but it probably would have ended badly. And when it came down to it, she didn't really want to be with him anyway. She grinned as Adam reached under the table and squeezed her hand. That was more like it.