Author's Note: okay, just a first post that's hijacked my brain, be kind please and read and review.
Disclaimer: don't own em...haha, who here does? sigh
Summary: The CSI Guide to Starting Fires: take one down-home Montanan, strike against one native New Yorker, throw on somelogs of twists and turns for indling, and come out burnt!
Combustion
It was hot, it was steamy, and it was summer in New York City. It was sweaty and scorching, oppressive and sweltering outside; and it would have been a routine process of an arson scene, except for the dead body that the NYFD found when responding. That's why Danny was trudging up seven flights of old, creaky, wooden stairs with his case, followed closely by Lindsay, who Mac had called in on her day off because everyone else available was busy at a triple homicide uptown. Firefighters were still all over the scene, water dripping off everything, the acrid smell burning Danny's lungs deeply. The body lay crushed into the base of the kitchen counter, and was half burnt. Danny had gloves on before they even got inside, as Lindsay talked to the fireman in charge. He never got over that smell – probably the worst there was – burnt human flesh; he had to suck in breaths every so often, and then hold them as he started processing. From where he was crouched he could hear the guy's answers to Lindsay's routine questions.
"Naw, no one touched it. The right leg might be shifted a little, cause one of my guys tripped over it, that's how they found it in the first place. We couldn't tell from sight whether it was male or female, so we thought we'd let you guys take care of all that technical stuff. If you need anything else, just ask, some of the guys will be around for a while cause they gotta finish up their part of the job." The man shook her hand, and walked out, as Lindsay turned to look at Danny.
"So, what can you tell so far?" She watched him pat down the charred body in a brief exam, then glance up at her.
"Don't know. I haven't checked the head or lower body yet, but so far, no outward injuries to suggest trauma, before or after the burning started." Lindsay had turned and was starting to search the apartment's gutted and dripping interior for any kind of abnormalities that suggested evidence of wrongdoing. A couple firefighters were in the hall, and one had just returned to the apartment to get the end of the hose they had used. His buddies thought it'd be funny to pull some fun with him, and kept rolling the end of the hose out of his reach.
"C'mon, Morrow, it can't be any harder to get it than one of those calves you're always talking bout roping," they ribbed him. He laughed – it was a deep, solid sound – as they continued, "Guess the Montana boy doesn't do so well without a rope and a horse, guys. All that University of Montana education didn't seem to make him any smarter." The firefighter just laughed some more, and grabbed the end of the hose in a lunge. At the sound of Montana, Lindsay had turned to watch, and was now greeted with the sight of a man's ass in dark fireman's pants with their yellow stripes and his black boots in the air, as he had jumped for the end of the hose. And for all that she attempted not to get caught staring, she couldn't help but admit it was a very nice ass. Attempting to determine if her ears had deceived her, Lindsay figured she'd ask him something only a true Montanan could answer.
Just as he had stood, his back to her, she threw out, "What's the name of the place used furniture goes to?"
Before he even turned, he rumbled out "The front yard," while chuckling sincerely. He turned around, and Lindsay smiled full-on at him – he was definitely a real Montanan. He smiled back – that joke was like code-word for "I'm from Montana."
Danny had listened to the whole thing, and every so often glanced up to watch the exchange unfold. The guy was big – he was like 6'5", 200-something odd pounds, all built and ripped, like your stereotypical firefighter, with medium to dark brown hair, and solid looking features. Danny could only see his profile, but he would bet all that this guy's eyes were blue; He's like a goddamn built Prince Charming! And Lindsay was all smiles; the ones that lghtt up her face and make her eyes sparkle and show off just the hint of dimples, and make her so irresistible. Danny shook his head, dangerous thoughts, dangerous thoughts right now. He coughed and looked up as the two just kind of stared at each other and yelled over, "Hey Montana, ya wanna help me process this DB or what?" Flack had just arrived, and was standing behind Firefighter Charming.
At the sound of "Montana," both Lindsay and Morrow looked at Danny, who was cradling the DB's head in his hands, probing it gently for wounds. "We gotta finish up here so the ME can cart away the body, and we can get back to the lab." Morrow turned to Lindsay, smiling, and beginning to hold out his hand before he thought better of it as he still had his fire gloves on. "So your name is Montana? Just like home, I assume?"
She blushed, "No no, umm, my name is Lindsay Monroe," she emphasized Lindsay just the tiniest bit, to let Morrow know not to call her Montana. Danny grinned on the inside, Ha! She knows she loves that name, even if she reminds everyone not to call her that. Flack just stood there smirking. "Well, Miss Monroe, it's been a real pleasure meeting another Big Sky native out here in the Big City. Maybe we'll run into each other again." Morrow smiled again - he has a really nice smile to go with those looks, Lindsay thought - then turned and took the hose with him. Flack came over and stood next to her as she watched Morrow leave, then went to stand opposite Danny and the body.
"Nice to see one of our venerable NYFD knows how to "rassle" up a hose, something he learned on the ranch no doubt," Flack teased as he nudged her side. She rolled her eyes and blushed slightly.
"Looks like that's all he knows how to roll out and up," Danny cut at her, his implication obvious. Flack, kind of taken aback by Danny's cutting words but understanding the motivation behind them, said, "Oh c'mon Danny, you know if you weren't a cop you'd be out putting out fires." Danny just scoffed and laughed.
Lindsay snorted, then said, "Oh no, Danny here much prefers to start them. Besides, Messer," Lindsay stared right at him, "at least when he rolls out his hose, it quenches the fire." Flack guffawed, as Danny looked up, a mix of emotions on his face at her teasing double entendre, but Lindsay just shrugged and knelt to help roll the body.
"Hey Don, did you catch up with Danny and Lindsay at that fire scene?" Mac yelled out just as Flack was passing his open office door. Flack leaned on the jamb, and nodded. "So what does the fire department think this was: arson or accidental? And did those two find anything to indicate suspicious circumstances of death?"
Flack cocked his head to the side, "Department's not sure yet what it was, but they're looking into it as we speak. The arson investigators were getting there as Danny and Lindsay finished, and as far as I could tell they didn't find anything overtly wrong. But I gotta tell you, Mac, that apartment wasn't the only thing that was giving off sparks." Mac just shook his head.
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