THE PAWN

A/N: This is a story that I have wanted to write for some time now. "Snow Day" is a brilliant episode, and there have been some really great fanfiction stories about what happened afterwards ("Somebody please hug Adam!" is usually my cry), but there is definitely an important untold story in that lengthy period of time when Adam was left processing the warehouse all alone. This fiction will run through the whole event from Adam's point of view, as it would seem a little callous to abandon him at the point when Danny enters. Meaning that a story originally planned as a one-shot is going to be significantly longer. Hope that's ok! I promise there'll be fun along the way, as well as some surprises...

Updating may be a little slower this time, but I'll try to make it at least every other day.

Disclaimer: I still don't own Adam. Fortunately, I do own a dvd player...

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Chapter One

Already, the media were calling it the biggest drug bust in New York City's history. "That's what they tell me," Detective Don Flack confirmed. Looking weary but satisfied, he held court behind the staggering haul of cocaine, fielding questions from the press with candid charm. Sneaking past the crowd on his way to the warehouse, Adam Ross felt a twinge of jealousy. Sometimes, he really wished that he could be that man - the hero of the hour, who fought the villains and saved the day. Instead, he was just a quiet little lab rat, gnawing away against crime on a miniature scale.

Except for today.

Today, Mac Taylor had called him up in person and asked him to come and help out. Adam had nearly dropped the phone in surprise - but, of course, he had said yes. Help at the most important crime scene in years? Oh no, boss, I don't really want to. I'm too busy cleaning my test tubes... Floating somewhere between pride and terror, Adam had stocked his kit with every single thing that he could think of, until it was almost too heavy to carry. He had been to crime scenes before, of course, but never one this high-profile. What if he forgot something vital? Or made a mistake?

Shut up, Adam, he told himself firmly. This is a good day. Boss-man thinks you're capable. That means you are.

Positive thinking had got him as far as the warehouse without any mishaps. Now, however, as he stood on the edge of so much focussed activity, Adam began to falter. There was no sign of Mac, and he really didn't feel confident or experienced enough to stride out and assign himself a task. Gripping his case in sweating palms, he edged inside the building and wondered what to do next.

"Are you all right? You look a little peaky."

Adam jumped, and glanced around at the woman who had crept up behind him. Somehow, Peyton always managed to look radiant. Even when she was covered in - well, Adam didn't really like to think what that might be...

"I... oh, um, yes. I'm fine." He gave the M.E. a lop-sided grin that was meant to reassure her of his competence. Instead, it just made him look worried. Peyton smiled.

"You're searching for Mac," she guessed. "I'm pretty sure I saw him just now, over by that trailer." Bending closer, she whispered in his ear. "He knew that he could count on you. He told me so himself."

"He did?" Seeing the laughter in Peyton's eyes, Adam wondered if she was mocking him. "Um - thanks for your help. I think I've spotted him."

The lie became truth, as Mac's face rose into view above some old oil drums. Gratefully, the little lab tech scurried towards his boss. Peyton watched him go, still smiling.

"There you are, Adam," said Mac. "Thank you for coming."

"Oh, yeah, sure, no problem." Adam knew that he was babbling, but couldn't seem to stop himself. "Anything to help, boss, you know that. Uh... where do you want me?"

Mac handed him a large roll of yellow tape. "Perimeter first. Mark it out, then process. Fingerprints, trace, whatever you can find. If someone sneezed in here, I want to know about it."

Adam cringed at the image, but tried not to let it dampen his enthusiasm. "Right boss. And by the way - thank you for giving me this chance. I won't let you down."

"I know that," Mac said, giving him one of those tight-lipped, weary looks that Adam could never quite read. "This is your job, Adam. If I didn't think you could do it, I wouldn't have hired you."

"Oh. Okay." Uncertain how else to respond to his boss's remark, Adam chose the easiest option - flight. Mac sighed. Sometimes - just sometimes, he wished that Adam would learn a little restraint. His over-the-top reactions were really quite tiring. Mac could see the nerves that lay behind them, but surely the man knew his work was valued by now? It had been almost two years since Adam came to the lab, and still the little man jumped whenever his boss came round the corner. Mac shook his head in mock-despair, and headed over to Peyton for her report.

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Feeling quite lonely, even though he was surrounded by so many people, Adam hooked up the end of the tape and began to walk around the edge of the warehouse, turning the heavy roll slowly between his hands. He had abandoned his kit in an out-of-the-way spot, hoping that nobody would fall over it there. As he walked, he watched them all at work and wondered obliquely why everyone else in the whole world seemed to be more at ease with themselves than he was.

When all the tape was used up, and the crime scene was packaged neatly in yellow ribbon, Adam returned to his case and took out his fingerprinting kit. The area that Mac had given him to process was so enormous that he suspected he was going to be here all day. Not that he minded. In spite of his lack of confidence, Adam truly loved his work. And he was good at it. Glancing up from the body of Gavin Wilder, the infamous Irish drug lord, Mac couldn't help but smile to see the little man so absorbed in what he was doing. "That's better," he murmured. Peyton stared at him inquisitively. "Adam," he explained, and she nodded. One look at the lab tech made his meaning perfectly clear.

Time passed. Gradually, under Mac's strict supervision, the team of workers began to carry the moveable evidence out of the warehouse. Locked in his own little world by now, Adam was oblivious. Printing powder covered the front of his clothes, and his fingers were weary from twirling the brush back and forth, but still he worked on - until, moving behind one of the damaged trailers, he stopped in astonishment.

"I - I'm so sorry," he faltered, stepping backwards. "Did you need a moment?"

Don Flack looked up at him, and his face was a mask. "Oh, hey... um..."

"Ross. Adam Ross," said the lab tech, and then mentally kicked himself. Yeah - Double Oh Zero; license to put my foot in it...

"Sorry. Ross, of course, I knew that. No, I'm just leaving." Yet still Don did not move. Instead, he stared down at the corpse that lay before him on the ground. There was a guilty look in the detective's blue eyes, and his fingers clenched spasmodically by his side.

"You shot him," Adam blurted out.

"I did."

The little lab tech shook his head. "That must be awful," he sympathised. "Killing someone, I mean."

Don turned round, and his expression was dangerous. Butt out, it said. I don't want to talk about it.

"Oh, no, I'm sorry, Detective Flack. That was really rude of me. It's none of my business."

Adam looked so apologetic that Don felt an unexpected urge to burst out laughing. It was the first true release he'd had all morning. Suddenly, he was grateful to the man for his awkward intrusion.

"No, Ross, that's okay. Yes. It was awful. Not the best part of my job, by any means." Looking around, he smirked. "I can see what the worst part of your job is. How long have you been printing now?"

Adam shrugged. "At least an hour. But I don't mind. It's safer than a gun battle." Dammit! How on earth did he manage to do that? Put his mouth into gear before his brain had caught up? This time, however, Don Flack only grinned.

"True story. Enjoy your work, man. I'd better get going." Walking past Adam, he clapped him on the shoulder. The lab tech flushed. Somehow, he had come out of that in one piece after all. He was just about to get back to his fingerprinting marathon when he heard his boss's voice, calling him.

"Over here," he shouted back, popping his head out from behind the trailer. Mac smiled grimly.

"Adam, I have to go now. I need to escort the cocaine back to the crime lab. As soon as Lindsay starts her shift, I'll send her along to help you. In the meantime, I've posted two officers outside the warehouse."

"What? Wait a minute - you mean I'll be all alone?" Adam looked around in surprise. Sure enough, whilst his back was turned, everyone else had disappeared. How did that happen?

"Yes, Adam," Mac said patiently. "Is that a problem?"

"No," sighed the lab rat. "I guess not." Won't make much difference, anyhow. "Don't worry, Mac. I'll get the job done as quickly as I can."

"As carefully, you mean," his boss corrected him. Adam ducked his head.

"Yes," he whispered. "I meant that."

But Mac had already gone.