Disclaimer I own very little, especially not CSI NY. Wish I did though.

Notes First chapter of a new story. I haven't forgotten Thorns, consider this an interlude. I started this when Cornwall was being battered by gales recently, it came into my head which meant I had to write it. Shamelessly romantic with some sadness along the way. Please let me know what you think, all reviews are much valued. The first line is taken from 'Possession' by Sarah McLachlan.

Falling Leaves: Chapter 1

Listen as the wind blows from across the great divide…

It screams and rattles through the trees like death and dry bones. Against an indigo sky, sour with rain, the branches are skeletons. Snatches of voices sound through the hissing downpour and words are tossed about by the gusts. Close to, the air smells of brick dust and rotten wood.

Flack stands with his fists clenched in his pockets, waiting uselessly and hating it. The rain drips and slides through his hair. He wipes his face only for more water to cling to it.

Hawkes, treading a careful pattern through the swelling puddles, joins him in restlessness, "Any word yet?" He hopes for a different one, but knows the answer he will get. He has the weight of what has happened in his voice and brown eyes, darkened to ebony.

Flack avoids those eyes, looks away over the other man's shoulder instead towards the chaos, "Nothing. Still searching."

Hawkes nods slowly and hunches his shoulders. They fall silent. The razor-thin wind cuts cold through skin. Shivers through their bones. Raindrops hit hard on numb faces.

Mac stands next to Stella a little way off, catching a few words of the conversation. His face carries the burden of concern which is always his, some days heavier than others. Stella watches the scene ahead of them, and shares some of what he shoulders. Because it belongs to her as well.

He feels the light pressure of her hand on his shoulder, her skin is still warm, "It'll be okay, Mac. They're doing everything they can."

He glances at her, the woman at his side, and is reminded of how much that means to him, "I hope so." For her sake.

Beneath their feet the rain has swarmed across the ground, leaving veins of water that pulse and ripple. The earth lives and breathes.

Danny, his hair pressed back against his scalp, boots splashing in the coffee-coloured water, passes them with Lindsay at his side. Her hair is lifting and swirling round her head. She holds it down with one hand and shields her eyes from the grit that has been swept around them with the other. He is angry, she is anxious.

He spits his words out, "Why the hell did they not call us sooner? We could have been here an hour ago, doing something, not screwing around waiting for no fucking news. We could've been helping sooner. Dammit Lindsay."

He sends a stone hurtling across the waste, and another, "Shit. We should be doin' something."

She feels the frustration as much as he does, but holds hers within, and tries to ease his, "Danny, there isn't much we can do yet. We're here, that's gonna have to be good enough for now."

His hands fall to his side. She moves closer to him and he breathes the scent of her gratefully, "I know that. I know. Doesn't mean I have to like it though." They walk towards the others, stronger against the storm.

Mac looks across at the scene in the near distance. Wreckage, dust, confusion. It feels unreal, a dream blown across his eyes. But Stella's eyes tell him differently.

"I hope they're not too late." She says, and begins to feel the cold. For his sake.

A short beginning, I know. More planned. But I'd really like to know what you think. Please review, thank you!