WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN

Disclaimer: The characters in CSI: New York and CSI: Miami do not belong to me. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.

Summary: After her and Danny's difficult break-up, Lindsay Monroe is transferred to the Miami Crime Lab. Two years later and the past comes knocking on her door…

Notes: Hi! This is sort of a CSI: New York/Miami crossover. While it's predominantly set in Miami, it's mainly centred on the New York characters. It's a Danny/Lindsay story, but due to the plotline, there's some Lindsay/other too. Please make sure you heed the rating because there's some adult talk and situations in this.

I started writing this story a while back but then abandoned it because I couldn't quite figure out where to take it. However, in light of recent Season 4 events, I've picked it up again and changed a few elements of the plot around to make it fit more with the canon of the show – the reason for Danny and Lindsay's break-up was slightly different in the original version of the story for instance, although it did centre around some of the earlier Season 4 spoilers.

All you need to know before you start reading this is that after she split up with Danny, Lindsay applied for a transfer and got posted to the Miami Crime Lab. She's been there for two years now, but the past is about to come a-knocking…

OOOOOO

Part 1 – A Blast from the Past

Miami, some time during 2010…

It was hot outside. Stiflingly so. The sultry breeze that wafted in from the ocean did little to relieve the uncomfortable stickiness in the air. It had taken Lindsay Monroe only a few moments to decide that her dinner party would be better held indoors. Inside her apartment the cool blast from the air-conditioner would mean that her guests would avoid the inevitable dose of heat exhaustion that eating outside would almost certainly inflict.

So far the evening had gone as planned. The atmosphere was relaxed and her colleagues along with their respective partners all seemed to be having a great time. They were currently seated around her large, oval dining table, chatting easily amongst themselves while she retrieved a homemade cherry cheesecake from the refrigerator and cut it into generous slices.

The living area of her ground floor Miami apartment was a modern, open-plan affair – the large breakfast bar she was standing behind was the only thing separating the well-equipped kitchen from the rest of the marble-floored living space. The chrome and glass dining table was positioned in front of the French windows to take full advantage of the view, while the plush cream leather sofa and armchairs in the lounge area added to the fresh, clean feel of the place. She'd never imagined she'd be living in an apartment like this – a naïve country girl from Montana - but Miami was all about style and when in Rome...

"Hey gorgeous! Need any help with that?"

She smiled as Steven Logan, her boyfriend of ten months, slid his arms around her waist from behind and nuzzled affectionately at her neck. Tilting her head back, she allowed his lips to settle over hers in a sweet, gentle kiss before she reluctantly pulled away. "You could take the plates," she said, indicating the neat stake of china on the counter with a wave of her hand.

"At your service, madam," he intoned, bowing grandiosely and making her laugh. Scooping up the plates like a silver service waiter, he headed back to the table, his stride long and leisurely as he balanced the tower of white plates on the tips of his fingers.

She stood for a moment, smiling at the picture he presented. Tall, good-looking and broad-shouldered, he carried himself with the easy confidence of a man who knew success. And successful he certainly was – he owned a string of popular Miami night-clubs and was rumoured to be a millionaire several times over. He had acquired his business portfolio through a combination of hard work and sheer determination, building up his empire from a small bank loan that his parents had stood guarantor for.

His wealth never really entered much into their conversations however, for he was surprisingly down to earth for someone with so much disposable income at their fingertips. She still couldn't quite believe he had chosen her when he had so many beautiful women falling at his feet desperate for even the smallest sliver of his attention.

They had met just under a year ago when she and Calleigh had been looking into the murder of a young woman who had spent her last hours dancing the night away at one of his clubs. Steven - who been in LA on business at the time - cooperated fully with their investigation and hadn't thrown any legal obstacles in their way as so many other Miami moguls were prone to do. His only concern appeared to be for the fate of the unfortunate young girl and Lindsay remembered admiring his civic mindedness.

He'd called her a couple of weeks later and asked her out to dinner. To say she was surprised by the invitation was the understatement of the year. She'd been reluctant at first, the slightly dubious ethics of the matter of particular concern to her. Calleigh had persuaded her that there was nothing to worry about however. Steven hadn't been implicated in any crime. He was simply an innocent bystander who had aided their investigation. Therefore, if she wanted to date him then that was her business. Lindsay's relationship with him had developed from there and she was still a little stunned by the unexpectedness of it all.

"You know, Lindsay?" Ryan Wolfe declared fifteen minutes later as he lowered his spoon to his empty plate. "If you hadn't decided to become a CSI, you could have opened your own restaurant. I think I just died and went to heaven." He smiled beatifically at her, the look in his eyes calculated and teasing.

Lindsay made a face at him. "And I think you're full of…"

"Now, now, children. Enough of that," Calleigh quickly cut in and Lindsay laughed while her partner in crime rolled his eyes at the older detective's motherly tone.

She and Ryan got on well – kind of like brother and sister, bickering one minute, fiercely protective of each other the next. Calleigh was their unofficial guardian, refereeing their squabbles when the occasion demanded it. Lindsay didn't think she could have gotten through her first few months in Miami without Ryan. She'd still been reeling from all that had happened in New York, and having to adjust to a new working environment on top of all of that had been particularly difficult for her.

They both had their idiosyncrasies but something had clicked between them from the start. He'd been her friend when she needed one, and had somehow managed to make her laugh even when her mood was as black as midnight. Two years ago, he'd been the breath of fresh air that she so desperately needed and she hoped he knew how grateful she was to him for that. He'd helped her through a dark time and their friendship was especially important to her as a result.

The rest of the evening passed without incident and before too long Lindsay found herself bidding farewell to the last of her guests. "Well, I guess that went okay," she remarked to Steven as she removed her shoes and wiggled her bare toes to relieve the ache that wearing them had caused.

"An unqualified success if ever there was one," he agreed with a smile.

Hooking his arm around her waist, he tugged her up close, "But the night isn't over yet," he murmured as he lowered his mouth to hers, his lips purposeful and determined. Winding her arms around his neck, Lindsay closed her eyes and allowed herself to be swept away by his passion…

Several hours later and unable to sleep, she slipped quietly from the bed and pulled on a pale blue satin robe. Securing it firmly around her naked form, she wandered barefoot out of the bedroom, through the living area and then outside into the night air. The temperature had dropped significantly, but it was still warm and humid. She settled herself on a sun-lounger beside the pool, tipped back her head and looked up at the stars. Her rollercoaster of a life was on an even keel at long last, so why did she feel more unsettled than ever?

The answer lay hidden at the back of her underwear drawer but she tried not to think about it. It made her head hurt, She'd worked so hard to get this far. She was happy, content with her life and who she'd become. And yet she couldn't stop thinking of all she'd left behind. The letter had arrived out of the blue a month ago. The New York postmark hadn't fazed her – she still kept in touch with the majority of her former work colleagues – the distinctive handwriting had been an entirely different matter however.

Danny – she hadn't seen or spoken to him in over two years. She still remembered their parting with painful clarity. He'd barely even acknowledged her presence in the room. It was as if she no longer existed to him and that hurt more than she ever thought possible. She'd fallen in love with a man who didn't want her in return and she'd thought her heart would never recover from the near fatal injury inflicted upon it.

It had been two weeks before she'd worked up the courage to open the envelope. Even then, the three sheets of crisp, white paper felt like a ticking time bomb in her hands as she unfurled and smoothed them flat. The letter was handwritten rather than typed. She wasn't sure what she expected it to say, but what it did had thrown her into emotional turmoil. She'd shut down, unable to deal with it. The past should remain exactly that, she decided. Danny had no right to stir things up again. No right whatsoever.

And therein lay the problem, because he hadn't asked anything from her. The words he'd written were simple and honest – in places breathtakingly so. The letter was meant as closure - for both of them. He didn't want to interfere in her life. He just wanted her to know the whole truth. That way they could both move on and be happy.

Lindsay closed her eyes with a sigh. She was happy – incredibly so. Being with Steven was like living a long-held dream. She recalled his sleepy words tonight just before he'd dozed off. "That was perfect," he'd declared of their lovemaking.

And it was perfect. He treated her with respect, understood how important her career was to her and never complained about the long hours that she had to work. He wined and dined her, and made love to her as if her body was a musical instrument and he was a virtuoso performer. They rarely argued either, their contrasting natures slotting together so easily that angry words weren't necessary. Any problems were discussed and dealt with before it got to that point.

And if she sometimes wished for a little disharmony in their relationship? That was just her own neurosis, wasn't it? Love was meant to be like this – free and easy, rewarding without too much expended effort. Rising to her feet, she forcibly shook off her inner disquiet and returned to the security of her boyfriend's loving arms. This was where she was meant to be.

She closed her eyes and finally slept.

OOOOOO

Two days later…

As the pilot announced their imminent descent, Detective Mac Taylor glanced over at his unusually quiet companion and frowned. "Are you sure you can handle this?" he enquired in his calm, measured voice.

Danny Messer turned from his contemplation of the miniature world below and regarded his boss with an unreadable expression in his blue eyes. "Ask me again in a couple of days," he replied with a wry twist of his lips.

"Danny…"

"I'm fine, Mac. Stop obsessing, will ya? You're making me nervous."

Danny's tone was more than a little snappy so Mac wisely held his tongue.

"Does Lindsay know?" the younger of the two men asked after a few beats of rather tense silence.

"I asked Horatio to apprise her of the situation before we arrived."

Danny sighed. "She never replied, you know."

"Did you think she would?" Mac – who knew about the letter he'd sent - asked.

Danny shrugged. "I don't know." He paused. "I don't expect anything. I just… I hoped for some kind of acknowledgement, I guess. I can't blame her for not giving it. What happened was my fault, after all."

"Not entirely," Mac responded soothingly.

"Lindsay wasn't to blame in any way," Danny felt the need to point out. His boss's unflinching solidarity didn't sit right with his guilty conscience.

"No," Mac agreed, "But there were extenuating circumstances."

Danny inclined his head in acknowledgment of that fact. It had taken a long time, but he'd learned not to shoulder the entirety of the blame – for Ruben's death, for the effect that it had had on his state of mind and the consequence of that on his relationships with those closest to him. He looked down at his hands. "It doesn't change anything though, does it?"

Mac had no answer to that because it was the truth. For the tenth time that day, he questioned the wisdom of bringing Danny along on this consult. The case demanded it however and maybe just maybe, it would all turn out for the best…

OOOOOO

"Hey Linds!" Eric Delko greeted his colleague as she arrived for her shift – an hour late by his estimation. "Steven kept you awake last night, did he?" he teased.

"I wish," Lindsay replied with a grimace. "My car had an almighty temper tantrum this morning."

"Too bad," Eric commiserated. "H' wanted to see you as soon as you arrived so you should probably go and find him ASAP."

'Great!' Lindsay thought as she sought out the red-haired Lieutenant. Not only was she monumentally late for her shift, she'd been caught red-handed by her boss in the process. Could her day get any worse?

As it turned out, Horatio was remarkably blasé about her lateness. He had other more pressing things on his mind. "Sit down, Lindsay," he instructed, waving his hand at the chair on the opposite side of his desk.

Lindsay obediently sat and waited. Horatio took a moment to compose himself and then spoke in his usual laconic manner. "We've had a breakthrough on the Lalbetti case," he informed her.

Lindsay sat up a little straighter, her interest peeked. The brutal double-murder of a newly-wed socialite couple had been a series of cross-wires and false leads so far. It had been de-prioritised several weeks ago because they'd been getting nowhere fast with it. "Oh?"

"You know the initiative to cross-verify any cold cases with other Crime Labs?"

Lindsay nodded. It was ambitious plan. With a country the size of the US, you were talking about a veritable mountain of information to sift through. It was like searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack.

"We scored a hit with New York," Horatio went on.

Something inside Lindsay froze.

"A case ten months ago. Exactly the same MO. If they're not related then it's one hell of a coincidence. The New York Crime Lab had more evidence to go on than us, but the trail still went cold about six months ago. I spoke to Mac Taylor. We're going to pool our evidence and see if we can come up with some fresh angles. He and the lead CSI on the case are flying into Miami today to consult. Mac requested that you were made aware of the situation before they arrived."

Lindsay didn't need to ask why. "It's Danny, isn't it?" she said. "The lead CSI you mentioned?"

Horatio nodded. "Danny Messer, yes. I understand that you two have some sort of personal history?"

Lindsay bit her bottom lip. "You could say that," she ventured a little shakily.

"I understand if you want to be transferred to another case."

Lindsay shook her head. "No," she said. "No," she repeated more firmly. "I can handle it."

"Good," Horatio replied. "You worked up the evidence. Someone else's input might not be so thorough, and precision is what we need if we're going to crack this case. Mac's going to run with it so you'll temporarily be under his command. Is that going to be a problem?"

Lindsay smiled in spite of herself. Her respect for her former boss was unwavering. She knew he was personally responsible for the position she now held. She could have been reassigned to anywhere given the undue haste of her transfer request, but he had pulled some strings and got her this plum job in Miami. "No, it's not a problem," she assured him.

Horatio returned her smile. "I didn't think so."

"When will they be here?"

Horatio checked his watch. "The flight from New York gets in at 11.00am, so I would say in the next forty-five minutes."

Lindsay drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. It didn't really have much of a calming effect, but it was the best she could manage under the circumstances. Forty-five minutes later and her nerves were stretched tighter than an acrobat's high wire. She just wanted it over with, the waiting was torture. Finally they arrived and she watched from the Trace Lab as Horatio greeted the two Big Apple CSIs in the Reception area.

"You okay?" Ryan touched the small of her back in quiet sympathy.

She looked up into his openly concerned face. She hadn't told them much, but her fellow CSIs knew the general gist of why she'd left New York in such a hurry. Steven knew significantly more specifics. Confiding in him had been extremely difficult for her, but she'd wanted him to understand the reason she was so wary of a relationship with him. It had therefore been necessary to fill him in on some of the more painful details.

She shot Ryan a tight smile. "I'll survive," she assured him as she turned her attention back to her former colleagues.

She watched as Mac handed Danny his flight-bag and then followed Horatio into one of the interrogation rooms. The younger CSI headed off in the general direction of the locker-room. Galvanised into belated action, Lindsay hurried after him. It was a reunion she dreaded, but she preferred for it to happen away from the watchful and gossiping eyes of the rest of the Miami Crime Lab employees all the same.

"Hey!" she said quietly from the doorway of the locker-room as Danny stashed his and Mac's belongings in one of the lockers.

Danny startled like a frightened rabbit at the sound of her voice, dropping one of the bags on his foot in the process. He cursed rather violently and then seemed to recover himself. With obvious effort, he lifted his gaze to her face. "Hey Montana!"

An avalanche of memories immediately crashed over Lindsay. His voice was still rich with that unmistakable New York twang and the vibrant affection evident in the utterance of his nickname for her threw her into total confusion. "Danny, I…" she stammered.

"I'm sorry."

If she hadn't believed the words when he'd written them on the page, she believed them now. The sincerity in that simple apology was unequivocal. He shrugged. "I don't know what else to say. You got my letter?"

Lindsay nodded and moved forward a few steps. "You don't…" She broke off and tried again. "I understand, I do, but I can't just forget everything that happened, Danny. It's not that simple."

"I know and I don't expect you to. I don't wanna make things difficult for you, I swear. I just wanted you to know that's all. I guess that's selfish of me, but it's… I need…"

He broke off and swore again. Lindsay smiled a rather wane smile before deciding to put him out of his misery. Was there any point in making him suffer for his - albeit unconscionable - mistake any longer? From what he'd told her in his letter, he'd suffered more than enough for it already. It had been two years. Sometimes you just had to let things go and move on.

"We've got to work together so apology accepted," she said, holding out her hand and offering him an olive branch.

His fingers closed around hers, warm and gentle, but also roughly callused from his baseball playing days. It was a touch she remembered and it contrasted so vividly with Steven's that she got quite a shock. Like most Miami men, her boyfriend was solicitous of his appearance and that meant manicured hands and moisturised skin.

They stood there, their fingers loosely entwined, for what seemed like hours but was probably less than thirty seconds in reality. His eyes intent on hers, Danny rubbed his thumb back and forth over her knuckles a couple of times before he finally released her hand.

"You've changed your perfume," he remarked casually as he stepped back.

Lindsay started to laugh. She didn't even know what was funny. The whole situation just seemed so ridiculous somehow and his comment even more so. Her laughter served to break the tension however and she watched as Danny's lips curved into a slow, reluctant smile in response.

"We should…" She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder.

Danny nodded. "…Get to work, yeah."

He waved her ahead of him and allowed her to lead him to where they needed to go.

"Lindsay!"

Mac broke off his conversation with Horatio and greeted her with obvious pleasure as the two of them entered the interrogation room.

"Hey Mac!" She stepped forward and hugged him lightly. "Long time, no see, huh?"

"Too long," he replied, smiling warmly at her. His questioning gaze slid from her face to settle on Danny, who stood off to one side. Something silent and unspoken passed between the two men before Mac nodded once in quiet satisfaction. "Okay, let's get to work."

By late afternoon, Lindsay's brain was spinning. She'd forgotten the relentless pace of the New York Crime Lab. Here in Miami, they worked hard, but it was all much more laidback. There was something to be said for the term 'the city that never sleeps' she decided. She felt exhilarated though. Mac had always challenged her to better herself and today was no exception.

She was also rather surprised by the change in Danny. She'd learned during the course of the day that he had finally been promoted to second-grade CSI and she could see why. He still had that devil-may-care attitude and wry sense of humour, but he was much more disciplined in his approach to the work these days.

"I'll check it out with Flack," he said to Mac and then stepped out into the corridor to call his friend.

Horatio sat back in his chair. "I can see why you hired him," he remarked to Mac.

The New York CSI nodded. "He has his moments, but he's worth the effort. I've been thinking about putting him on the first-grade promotion grid, but there are those who think that's a little premature."

"He's been second grade for how long now?"

"A year – but that was well overdue. He – uhh – he had a few personal setbacks that interfered with the process."

Horatio nodded. "Well, this is a good test," he said and then broke off when his cell phone beeped. He flipped it open. "Horatio Caine?"

He listened for a moment to the voice on the other end of the line. "Yes, I'll be right there."

He stood as he shut off his cell. "I've got to go. You can handle this?"

He looked over at Lindsay who nodded her assent. "Sure – I got it, H."

"Okay. I'll speak to you later then. Mac? Good to work with you again."

He held out his hand and his New York counterpart shook it. "You too," Mac replied with a curt nod.

Silence descended after Horatio had left. Lindsay's gaze settled on Danny outside in the corridor and the urge to know was suddenly too strong to ignore. "He… he is okay?" she asked her former boss before she could stop herself.

Mac nodded. "He's doing fine."

Lindsay returned her gaze to Mac's face. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, a hint of accusation in her tone.

Mac sighed. "Danny didn't want us to and – at the time – betraying his trust wasn't something I could contemplate. Plus, I wasn't even sure that you'd want to know under the circumstances."

Lindsay nodded, not liking it but understanding nonetheless. "It might have made a difference."

"I think it was something he needed to face on his own, Lindsay," Mac replied carefully.

"Some things are just not meant to be, huh?" she said somewhat sadly. After two years, she was no longer angry, simply resigned to it all.

"Sometimes the timing is just bad, I guess."

Lindsay laughed rather ruefully. "I think that's Danny and me all over," she remarked with a slight shrug of her shoulders.

Mac nodded. "I suppose it must seem that way," he replied. He paused for a moment and then asked the inevitable question. "What about now?"

Lindsay sighed. "I have a boyfriend, Mac."

"So I learned from Stella."

"He's a nice guy. He… he makes me happy. I trust him and I need that."

Her former boss nodded in quiet understanding.

Lindsay sighed again. "You don't think that… I mean, Danny doesn't think that…?" she started.

"I don't think he's under any illusions about the two of you if that's what you're asking," Mac cut in when she was unable to articulate her question.

She wasn't really, but what she was asking probably wasn't the wisest thing for her to know. It would only cause trouble and she'd fought hard to get her life back on track in the two years since she'd left New York. She just needed to keep things civil with Danny and as friendly as circumstances between them allowed. It would only be for a few days after all. She could manage to negotiate the stormy waters for that long without falling victim to any unexpected waves…

Couldn't she?

To be continued…

A/N2: I'm still playing DVD catch up with the last couple of seasons of CSI: Miami btw so you'll have to forgive any inaccuracies in that respect. And yes, I'm being deliberately vague about Danny. Till next time then...