Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with CSI NY. Except my boxsets. And i like them. A lot.

This is my first story. This story looks at what happened to Lindsay and the effects it had upon her and her family. It begins as she prepares to say goodbye to Montana, and follows her last week there. There are a lot of flashbacks (in italics) which she reflects upon her past as she prepares to move to New York. It will eventually follow the series after she starts in the NY lab and therefore will eventually end up as DL. The preparation for leaving New York was supposed to be a few pages but it a lot longer than I thought it would be. I have written a lot of it already, so there are lots of chapters to come. I hope you enjoy it.

Why is it that when you're waiting for a letter the postman is always late? Lindsay paced up and down her parents ranch house wondering why it had to be late today of all days. After several minutes of watching her daughter wear out the hall carpet, her mum quietly walked out to the hall, and stood just behind Lindsay. Instead of continuing her frantic steps Lindsay turned and found herself face to face with her mum, who had a look of amusement on her face.

"Why are you insistent on wearing out my carpet?" her mum asked, a grin lighting up her face.

"I'm waiting for the post" Lindsay replied, turning around and continuing her pacing over a considerably shortened length of the hall.

"You already have the job."

"I know."

"So why are you pacing waiting for the post? The letter will only confirm what you already know."

"I know." Lindsay paused a frown appearing as she considered what her mum had said. "But..."

"But what?"

"What if they changed their mind? I mean, they may have found someone who has more experience, or who is more knowledgeable, or who will fit in better, or..." Lindsay trailed off not wanting to verbalise what the real problem was.

"Or someone who isn't you?" her mum cutting in to her daughter's illogical rant knowing exactly what the problem was.

"Yeah, who isn't me" Lindsay whispered, fear suddenly gripping her heart.

Suddenly and without warning, Lindsay found herself being literally dragged to the large table in the middle of the kitchen. Her mum could be remarkably strong when she needed to be, although you would never know that to look at her.

"OK Lindsay, you are going to sit and listen to me now." Suddenly Lindsay felt like she was seven years old when she was being reprimanded for following her brothers to one of the largest trees on the ranch and then trying to climb it, whilst her three brothers encouraged her to climb higher and higher. Of course when she fell out of the tree landing on her arm breaking it in two places, a lecture on safety and stupidity was waiting for her once she was released from the hospital. Very much like the one her mum was about to start any second now, just with a different topic. And she was scared.

"Why do you think they don't want you? Why do you think you're not good enough?" her mum started, emphasising the 'you' far more than Lindsay thought necessary. Then without giving Lindsay time to answer, her mum carried on with her lecture.

"You are an amazing person Lindsay. You haven't only succeeded at being a CSI but excelled at it. I saw James last week and all he could do was sing your praises and tell me how much you were going to be missed wherever you ended up moving to. He said they always knew you were destined for bigger and better things, even before you first started working there. You and I both know that James keeps his cards close to his chest, so for him to be that open with me about you and say more than 10 words in the same breath is something of a miracle!"

The two women laughed at this image. James Lawson the man in charge of the Bozeman CSI's was well known for his short and not-so-sweet answers in just about every aspect of his life. Lindsay wasn't surprised when his wife confided in her at the last Christmas party that his proposal had simply been "marry me?" No speech, no expectations, just a simple plea from his heart. And that is how James was. Always. Except, for some reason, when it came to Lindsay. His compliment, via her mum, had Lindsay suddenly taking a walk down memory lane, thinking of how her life's path had changed since that fateful day nine years previous. Her mum seeing Lindsay becoming lost in thought, decided now was a good time to get on with all household those things that were calling her, and so she left Lindsay alone at the table, returning briefly to deposit a cup of coffee in front of her. Watching Lindsay automatically search out the mug of hot liquid, Eve turned to leave again, pausing at the door to look at her daughter, motherly pride filling her as she realised how far her daughter had come and how far she was yet to go. She then turned on her heel and Lindsay was left alone, sat wondering what had happened over the last few weeks.

Lindsay had been working as a CSI in Bozeman for the last four years. Although she was one of the more junior members of the team she was, strangely enough, one of the most experienced, especially when it came to anything with a lot of blood. She couldn't help but laugh at the irony of surviving a bloody shooting and then becoming an expert in blood splatter analysis. Nearly every other person who had gone through what she had long ago in her past would have avoided anything to do with conflict, crime scenes and especially blood. But Lindsay wasn't like every other person. She was a survivor and, as her dad liked to call her far too often, a 'tough cookie'. She had spent far too many minutes of her life moaning about being compared to a biscuit although she would never admit that she did like it. Deep, deep down inside of her. Out of reach of her family who would never let her live it down if they knew she liked it when all she did was moan at her dad whenever he said it. Her mum had always told her, long before she became a victim of a bloody crime, that God always has a plan for everyone and if they are unfortunate enough to experience a tragedy then He would find a way to help people through it and use our experience, often for the benefit of others. As she sat thinking, Lindsay wondered if this philosophy of life her mum so adamantly believed in played a role in moving her on past what had happened.

Lindsay laughed out loud when she realised that even after all these years she still couldn't give the correct title to what she had lived through. It was always referred to as 'the incident', 'that tragedy', 'a crime', or something else with an equally unrevealing name or roundabout way of insinuating that something 'horrific' had happened. Bad yes, horrific no. She knew it wasn't about not admitting what had happened. There was no way she couldn't not admit what she had lived through nor could she pretend it didn't happen. It had changed her, and her family, far too much. In the days, weeks and months that followed she couldn't see a way out. Nor did she believe she had a future. Lindsay sighed when she thought about how much time she had spent wanting to be dead and buried in the ground, next to her friends. When she looked back at those times she hated that the darkness controlled her and that she even had those memories. But as her mum always said, "those memories had made her the person she was. And she is a person to be proud of in terms of achievement, personality and love. Not many other people could say that." Hearing and even thinking about those words always brought tears to Lindsay's eyes and today was no exception. Suddenly a tissue appeared in front of her eyes, being waved about furiously by said mother.

"What's the matter baby?" asked Eve, Lindsay's mother, sitting down at the table and retrieving the box of tissues from the side at the same time.

"Nothing."

Eve just raised an eyebrow at her daughter, with that look of 'are you kidding me?' on her face.

"Ok, well, I was just thinking. Don't worry about it."

"Lindsay Monroe. I started worrying about you the minute I found out I was pregnant with you and haven't stopped since then and I am certain this worry will follow me until one of us departs this earth." She paused, the stern look leaving her face and was replaced by a cheeky smile. "I'm also fairly certain that if you go before me I'll worry about where you are until I leave here. And if you are in the wrong place then I will have an eternity of worry ahead of me."

Lindsay couldn't help but laugh at her mother's comments. Somehow she always knew the exact thing to say to make her feel better. Sometimes honest, sometimes, where requested, blatant lies, sometimes waffle, useless trivia and then there were days like today. Those days where her mum said a load of rubbish laden with a heavy dose of guilt. Funny yet heavily weighed down with a good dose of guilt and a way of keeping her brood in line. The only thing Lindsay could think of was if she ever had children she really had to learn that same trick to make sure her kids stayed on or at least relatively near the rails, because it was so much more effective than probation or jail. That much she was certain of.

After a few minutes silence and being stared at by her mum, Lindsay finally turned to face her.

"I was just thinking how I can't even give a name to what happened to me way back when. See even now I can't come out and say 'I was in a diner and escaped being executed unlike my three friends and the waitress'. Its madness isn't it? And as I sit saying this to you I am now starting to worry that moving away to a different job in a state that I will be stuck in and unable to come and see you and daddy when I need someone to confide in isn't a good move. No one will know me or what I have been through. I'm not as strong as you all think I am. I'm just good at bullshitting when the need arises."

"Lindsay!" exclaimed her mum, causing Lindsay to jump in her chair. "Language."

"I'm sorry for the word I used." She paused for effect before continuing, "you know what I said was right though and don't think I haven't heard you say that to daddy or my brothers before!"

"That's not the point. It's my house and I'm older than you. I have my own rules as mummy and you'll have to just deal with it." Mother and daughter smiled at each other and both their faces softened, albeit for too short a time.

"What you are actually saying is you are considering using your past as an excuse to stay in Montana all your life."

"I didn't say that. How on earth did you work that out from what I said?"

"Simple, you said it yourself. You bullshit at times. I've seen you at your best and I've seen you at your worst. I know how you think baby. You're trying to decide if surviving the shooting is a reason to stay here and help the people you've spent all your life around. But what me and daddy see is that you are trying to work out if you can cut the strings that have tied you here, and if starting a new life and moving up in your career is justification to leave. All because of some evil twist of fate." Eve paused to allow the words she had spoken to wash over her daughter, who was now sat with her head in her hands, eyes closed.

"Lindsay, you were never meant to stay here. Even before the shooting your dad would say that he dreaded the day you left Montana." Lindsay looked up at her mum, surprised by what she had heard. "We've watched you grow and learn and be the most stubborn and inquisitive child we have. You have always been the one who tried, tried and tried again until she got what she wanted or needed. Ever since you started working at the lab we know you've been working hard day and night to keep up to date with the latest processes and technologies, even though you know the likelihood of half that equipment being available where you work is nil. You have worked hard to learn your craft in a relatively short time and you know your job inside and out. You turned a tragedy into a gift and have become widely respected by many. You were never meant to live your whole life here. Montana will always be a part of you, but unlike the rest of us, possibly with the exception of Jake, it will never be your whole life."

"What about Tony? He lives in Seattle."

"No for much longer I think. He keeps talking about missing the wide open spaces, wheat fields and complains that there are too many people in Seattle. He will be back in the next year or so when he gets a job here."

"I didn't know that. What about his girlfriend, Amelia?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if they marry soon or at least your brother proposes. As for Amelia, she's a country girl as it turns out. She's from Wyoming"

"The party state!" interrupted Lindsay a big grin on her face as she remembered a party she had attended with her brothers two years previous.

"And has said she would be more than happy to move back to rural Montana" continued her mum ignoring her daughter's interruption.

"What will Tony do here?"

"He's thinking of coming back to help dad with the business side of the ranch. That way dad can do the hands on work he loves so much and Tony can do all the business and accounting side. Peter doesn't mind either as he is too like dad preferring to work with his hands. Nice sideline there daughter of mine. And I'll bet you thought I'd miss that!"

"I try," she said with a slight smile.

Eve paused to watch the changing expression of her daughter's face, and held onto her hands.

"Lindsay I'm not trying to get rid of you. Let's face it, if daddy had his way you'd be locked up in the barn for life, but you're not. You can thank me later by the way. Money, chocolates, flowers or an all expenses paid trip to New York complete with a spa day or two and some shopping, which you will pay for or something similar will do as a down payment."

"If only you think of exactly what you want mum it would so make things easier to know how to thank you for my freedom," Lindsay retorted as sarcastically as possible.

"Trust me, when I know what I want I'll tell you." The two women laughed, keeping the mood light in the room. "Anyway, the point is this, your dad and I love you but we both know it would be wrong to guilt trip you into staying. Plus your dad has finally decided to catch up with technology and bought a web cam, to aid in communication between you and us and help you still feel a part of this family even when you are miles away and unable to return here."

"Seriously? A web cam? I'm surprised dad had even heard about them."

"Seriously. He said it was for keeping in touch with you. I'm more inclined to think it's so he can keep a look out for hickies just in case you find yourself a 'man friend' when you've left the outside range of all his weaponry combined. I think he's afraid to believe that one day a handsome New Yorker will sweep you off your feet and 'make you a woman.'" Eve had used the finger quotation marks when saying 'man friend' and 'make you a woman' as this was her dad's way of talking about her having a relationship and sex without actually have to use the words having, virginity, sex, making love, or any other variation on this.

"I'm guessing you still haven't told him I've 'been a woman' for some time now then?" asked Lindsay, using the same quotation marks her mum had used, grinning widely and already knowing the answer to this question.

"Honey, I open that door and you'll be living in an impenetrable ivory tower for the rest of your life and no amount of hair growing would get you out. So we'll be keeping the actual details between you and me, although I will admit I am fairly certain he knows you are Corey did more than hold hands especially after the way he dumped you."

"Yeah, thanks for reminding me of that too. Maybe you should have told daddy and he could have hunted Corey?"

"I would love to have done that but for some unknown reason I love your father and don't want to be restricted to conjugal visits for the rest of my life. I have needs too."

"Mum! Too much information! Don't you know the rules? Your parents have only had sex dependent upon the number of children you have, therefore you and daddy have had sex four times. That is all I want and need to ever know."

"But where's the fun in that? Doesn't it occur to you kids that parents like to freak out their children as much as their children like to their parents?"

"Freak out? Honestly mum, how old are you?"

"Old enough for you to respect me."

"Nah I respect you because you are my mum. The age thing is an added bonus when it comes to picking on your parents!"

"I would love to know where you have learnt this behaviour. I don't ever remember talking to my mum like this. It is either your dad or brothers and I'm wondering if I should kill them or is it too late? When did it become right to disrespect your parents?"

"Firstly I will say my brothers are very influential and it is probably a bit too late to worry about that one. Secondly, you would hate it if we were nice to you all the time and you would wonder if we were ill and lastly, I spoke to grandma loads and the stories she told me about you were a lot worse than nanny's about dad! So don't you talk to me about being disrespectful. I know all about you sneaking out to the festival when you were fifteen and the grief you gave grandma afterwards!"

"This isn't about me and so let's go back to the original topic!"

"How can you change the subject but I can't?"

"Because"

"I'm a mummy!" chorused Lindsay and her mum together.

"You'll get to use that line one day and believe me it's a good one!" said her mum, a big grin on her face.

Lindsay decided to get back on topic. "When did daddy get the web cam?"

"A few weeks ago, after James told him you were looking at job ads. James casually mentioned the New York job and the next thing I know we have a web cam and he's asking Freddy if you can stay with him should you get the job."

"Really? He's asked Uncle Freddy if I can stay with him? Why?"

"Because he loves you and Freddy is family. And he is worried about you living with some lunatic who will murder you in your sleep. Plus he figured for some unknown reason that you would prefer to sleep in a room rather than a cardboard box until you find your own place. However, you don't know this and as soon as you get the letter he'll be telling you. OK?"

"My lips are sealed."

"That would be a first."

"I'm going to miss this mum."

"Well, we'll find a good phone plan for both of us that means it doesn't matter how long we talk. And you know you can phone anytime. I know it will be difficult with your job, especially being new and wanting to work when they tell or ask you to, but we'll make it work. And if worse comes to the worse, there's always the middle of the night when you're working."

"Oh sure, I'm going to phone you in the middle of the night when you are sleeping, just to talk."

"We spent nearly two years having regular contact and conversations at night, didn't we? Linds?"

Lindsay looked at her mum guilt coursing through her veins and her blood suddenly running cold, and slowly nodded her head knowing her mum wouldn't let it drop until she had acknowledged her question.

"Baby, you have nothing to feel guilty about."

"How do you know?" Lindsay whispered, tears threatening to fall again.

"I know because we have spent a lot of the last nine years together, especially when you have needed someone to comfort you or talk to you or just listen. I know how your mind works. You feel guilt with very little effort and usually for no good reason. I did it then and I will continue to be here for you in the future. So if homesickness hits you at three in the morning, phone me. If you wake me I'll come down to the lounge so daddy can sleep and we can talk. If I'm tired the next day I can have a nap."

"Thank you mummy," said Lindsay gratefully, holding her arms out to her mum for a hug. Five minutes later still holding each other tightly, there was a knock at the door.

"Hey, maybe this is the letter we've been waiting for that will get rid of you at long last!"

"We were having a moment mum!"

"'Were' Linds, past tense!" said her mum cheekily as she walked to the front door.

Lindsay sat waiting nervously at the table, hoping that whoever was at the door was delivering her letter. And then her thoughts started rambling away with themselves. 'If they were delivering her letter why wouldn't they use the post box? They wouldn't waste money sending it by courier or signed delivery. Would they? No, it can't be, which means', Lindsay looks at the clock on the wall, 'at least another hour before the post comes. Crap. Thank goodness mum didn't hear that because I can't do with another lecture on language today. Seriously, where does she think I get it from? I'm surrounded by men at home and at work; of course I'm going to hear it and so why should she be surprised that I swear? Dad's mouth is worse than all of us put together. Well, maybe not Peter or Jake or Tony. Who am I kidding; they are all filthy mouthed brutes. I am so going to miss them if I go to New York. Can I really do this? Go to New York, alone? I'll bet they've changed their minds!' and with that she sighed very loudly and dramatically before putting her head back in her hands. "What am I doing?"

"I'm guessing you're having a conversation in your head which, knowing you, have been all round the houses to get you back to the starting point which is probably that they don't want you in New York," said her mum returning back into the kitchen.

"Did I say what I thought I was thinking out loud?"

"No, just the last bit 'what am I doing?' I worked out the rest from there. Before you ask go back to the same disclosure about knowing you that I tell you at least once daily."

"You're a mind reader aren't you?"

"It's called 'mummy radar'."

"It's freaky is what it is."

"I'm your mother, of course I'm freaky. But your dad's worse than me!" and with that Eve finally produced the letter from behind her back that had literally been burning her hands whilst she had fun at her daughter's expense. Sometimes it was too easy but had to be done.

"What's this?"

"A letter."

"I can see that."

"Why did you ask."

"Who's it for?"

"You which is why I'm handing it too you."

"Ok, no need to get smart."

"That's my line."

"OK. Can I have my letter please?"

"Only as long as I can read it after."

"Why? Are you eager to get rid of me?"

"Yes, we've got some college students who want to have work experience here and I need your room to provide them with some accommodation."

If anyone had a poker face it was Lindsay's mum. Lindsay looked at her and was convinced that her mum was serious. The problem was how to approach this without looking stupid. She took a breath and realised she wasn't getting out of this unscathed and took the bull by the horns. "Are you serious?"

"Of course I am. Why would I lie?"

"To mess with me."

"Yes but that's not the reason today. We just want to make a bit of extra money."

Lindsay sat mouth open shocked at her mum's admission. Two minutes later Eve started laughing.

"I hate you, you know that?" grumbled Lindsay.

"I love you too. Now open that blasted letter before I do it for you."

"That would be illegal."

"Not if it was over your dead body. Then I would be sorting through your affairs."

"I can't work out why I am hesitant about leaving you."

"Because you would miss this. And good home cooked food."

"I can cook, having lived away from home for the last few years."

"It's still not the same as my food."

"You win."

"I always do. Now have you done anything with that envelope yet?"

"I need scissors."

"And you're incapable of getting them yourself?"

"Yes. Plus I thought you'd enjoy looking after me before I leave."

"Get them yourself before I throttle you."

"James would be on my side as the dead person."

"Don't kid yourself. I've known him longer."

"I still hate you" muttered Lindsay finally moving to get the scissors. She sat back down, hands trembling now as she opened the letter. Why did people over use sellotape on letters? Did they have nothing better to do? The next thing she knew her mum had taken the letter off her to open it, in order to reduce the risk of blood, as it was starting to look likely that Lindsay was about to cut at least one finger off. And there was no way she was having her beautiful hardwood floor stained with blood. Well, no more blood than was already on it. Once it was open she passed the letter back to her daughter, without reading it.

Shakily taking the letter out of the envelope, Lindsay opened it and read it. Three times. Just to make sure the words hadn't changed each time she read it. She took a deep breath and spoke. "The good news is you can rent out my room." She paused trying to go for some dramatic effect as she waited to tell her mum the unexpected bit of the letter.

"What else?" asked Eve, getting impatient. There was dramatic license and there was far too much time being wasted.

Lindsay's voice had dropped to a whisper now as she herself tried to take in what she was reading. "I... I start in two weeks. Although I don't know if James will agree to that."

"He already has."

"How do you know?"

"He told us after your interview when Mr Taylor rang him."

"Is there anything else I should know about my new job that you already know?"

"You'll miss my interfering."

"I won't."

"You will."

"I won't."

"I love you honey and I'm so proud of you."

"I love you too mum."

I would like to say a very big thank you to Brina for reading and re-reading all the different versions of this story and new bits amd not laughing at me. And for encouraging me in far too many ways to keep writing this and posting it *big hugs* and thanks!