Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of "CSI:NY"-they are property of CBS and Anthony E. Zuiker. SSA Dr Spencer Reid and SSA David Rossi are the property of CBS and Jeff Davis.

Author's Note: I swore that I wouldn't do another fic til my High School Musical one was finished...guess what? I don't listen to myself very well. (Looks around for the plot bunny..."C'mere, you stupid rabbit...")

Synopsis: It's Christmastime in the City, and people are going missing. When Mac Taylor and his team can't get a bead on the kidnapper, Mac calls in an old friend from the FBI, David Rossi of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. A crossover with Criminal Minds.

CHAPTER ONE

New York City, December 20

Eight-year old Emily Duchette loved ice skating at Rockefeller Center. Bundled up in her blue Columbia jacket and her favorite winter hat, rainbow colored with a fluffy beanie ball on the top of it, she glided around the ice, visions of Sarah Hughes ice dancing in her mind. She skated around the rink under the lights of the seventy-foot Douglas fir from Idaho, to music only she could hear. She weaved in and out of the fifty-odd people on the ice, expertly moving her feet and her arms in unison with the beat in her mind. She passed one of the corners, and waved at her mother. Kathleen Duchette waved back as she checked her watch. "Five more minutes, Emmy!"

Emily skated in a slow circle ten feet away as her routine was interrupted from the crowd. She stopped and crossed her arms over her chest, looking pointedly at her mother. "Mo-oomm!" Emily protested, drawing out the monosyllabic word as only an eight-year-old can. She stuck her bottom lip out and made puppy-dog eyes.

Kathleen held up her hand, fingers outstretched. "Five, Emily!" It wasn't going to work, not tonight. Kathleen shifted the Macy's bag on her arm-her husband's Christmas present inside, and zipped up her long, gray winter coat. She and Emily had spent the day shopping for Daddy. Emily's eyes had lit up at every store, and Kathleen took it all in while smiling at the fact that Emily's presents were already home and hidden away.

"All right," Emily reluctantly agreed, but then, just like that, she was back at center ice at the Winter Olympics. It was the long program, and she was the final skater…The music returned, and she picked up right where she left off, making her way eventually to the middle of the ice where she spun to a slow stop, her arms above her head. Emily took a moment, listening to the Olympic crowd cheer her name, and then turned to her mother. Kathleen was clapping, ignoring the weird looks from the rest of the crowd. "I'll meet you over there!" Kathleen called to her daughter. If they hurried, they could still get hot chocolate at the concessions stand before they closed.

As she finished her "program," the little brunette skated over to the rink entrance. Kathleen moved around the rink to meet her daughter where she was taking off her skates. She held Emily's boots in her hand, to trade her out when she got around.

When she got to the bench, Emily wasn't there. Her skates sat side-by-side, the neon orange skate guards in place. Kathleen looked around, thinking Emily may still be on the ice. But her little girl was nowhere to be found. "Emily?" Kathleen ran to the edge of the rink, searching. Emily's hat was impossible to miss. It was easy to spot. But she didn't see it.

"Emily!"

Thirty minutes later, Sheldon Hawkes and Adam Ross met Detective Don Flack on scene. "What do we got, Flack?" Hawkes asked. He was wearing a black down jacket and jeans. Adam wore an orange Columbia jacket, snow boots and gloves. He still wasn't used to New York winters.

Flack handed him a photo. "Emily Duchette, she's eight. One minute she was getting off the ice, next minute she was nowhere to be found." His normally light and teasing tone was replaced by a dark and serious voice, the way it always was when a child was involved in something terrible. "Amber Alert is out, but..."

Adam wandered over to the bench, where Emily's size four skates still sat. His teeth chattered. Five days before Christmas, he thought as he took out his camera. What a way to start the holidays. He snapped a photo of the skates, leaning there, as if they were waiting for the little girl to come back and get them any moment.

"Hawkes, this is Kathleen Duchette," Flack introduced him to the obviously distraught mother. Even if he hadn't introduced them, Hawkes would've have had no trouble being able to pick her out of a crowd. The woman's eyes were red-rimmed and her cheeks were flushed. She looked up at Hawkes.

"Detective, tell me you're going to find my daughter," Kathleen begged, putting both her hands on his arms. She looked at him pleadingly, tears in her eyes, mascara running. A Macy's bag lay crumpled at her feet, whatever gift inside forgotten.

Hawkes and Flack exchanged a Look. Do I promise her something I can't guarantee? Hawkes swallowed. He never quite knew how to handle this situation. "Mrs. Duchette, I promise you we are going to do everything we can." There. It was vague but concrete all at once. But it seemed to work. Hawkes excused himself at that point and came over to join Adam, still snapping photos. "Five days before Christmas," Hawkes echoed. "Tell me you got something."

Adam shook his head. "There's so many footprints it's impossible to tell if they belong to anyone in particular." He took a breath and let it out slowly. "It's twenty degrees out and the kid isn't even wearing shoes."

"Whoever it was probably carried her out," Hawkes said. "Emily's tall for her age, but carrying her would be the easiest way to get her out without her struggling or drawing attention."

"Nobody noticed a little girl being picked up and hauled out of here?"

Hawkes shrugged. "It's classic New York City-nobody ever sees anything."

"Hey…" Adam set the camera down for a minute, and looked at Hawkes. "Hey, you don't think this might be connected to that case from last week, do you?" He shrugged. "I-I mean, we don't get many kidnappings in this town, and then two in two weeks, right?...so, maybe…"

"Work this scene first, Adam," Hawkes suggested. "If there's a reason to cross-check the two, we'll do it. Until then, let's focus on getting this little girl home in time for Christmas."

The thought had crossed his mind, too.