Author's Note: This is my first story for CSI: NY. The idea as written here just tumbled out onto my keyboard nearly a year ago and it's been sitting on my hard drive "gathering dust" ever since. I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with it or if this IS it. I've finally decided to post it, see what kind of reaction I get, and ask anyone interested for suggestions. If you read this, thanks. If you read it and are willing to share your thoughts with me, double-thanks!

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI:NY or expect to profit from my writing in any way. Just needing an outlet for my ideas so they stop swirling around in my head!

Stella shivered as she stuck the key in the ignition, started the Avalanche, and reached down for the lever on the side of her seat. The taxpayers of New York City might consider heated seats an unnecessary luxury in a city service vehicle, but for a CSI out on a scene in the coldest temperatures in half-a-century, it certainly seemed more necessity than luxury.

Her cell rang and she grabbed for it, pulling her gloves off so she could flip it open more easily and blowing on her fingertips to warm them as she fumbled for the button on her phone. She glanced at the number on the screen.

"Hi, Mac. What's up?" She smiled as Mac asked her if she was done processing the scene. "Just finished, why? You need me back at the office? I was sort of hoping to go home and thaw out."

"Go on home, Stel. It's nearly end of shift and what we've got right now can wait till tomorrow. I… just wanted to say goodnight. Drive safe & I'll see you in the morning."

"Sounds good. Nite, Mac."

Stella tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and pulled out into traffic.

An hour later, Stella was soaking in a hot bath, hair tucked up and a wine glass in her hand. Candles glowed from the top of several surfaces in the otherwise dark bathroom. Stella relaxed into the warmth and leaned back, humming softly to herself…a tune she'd heard just before she'd pulled into the parking garage and couldn't get out of her head. Her eyes shut and the humming stopped. Her head fell gently back to rest on the edge of the tub, then slipped sideways to her shoulder. A few minutes later, Stella's eyes opened. Slowly she rose from the tub, grabbed a towel, and shuffled sleepily into her bedroom.

She reached for the pajamas she'd laid out on the bed, and a moment later was snuggling deep into feather comforters.

Had she stayed up long enough to hear the late news or even logged onto her computer long enough to check her home page, she would have known about the weather warnings that were issued as she was on her way home. But she'd opted to get warm first, and warmth after being exposed to such cold had made her sleepy. Instead of concerning herself with what she might have to face on the drive in to work the next morning, she'd simply gone to bed.

The clock by her bed registered 1:21am when her cell phone began ringing. An arm shot out from under the comforters, grabbed the offending device from the bedside table, and disappeared with it into the cozy nest. All that could be seen was the top of a head of unruly brown curls, and all that could be heard aside from the swish of heavy flakes against a nearby windowpane was a muffled, "Bonasera."

Now that the comfort of sleep had been disturbed, Stella sat slowly, running a hand from her forehead back through her hair in an attempt to shove the loose strands out of her face.

"Yeah, Mac. I'm on my way. Just give me that address again." She scribbled something down on the pad next to the clock and swung her feet over the side of the bed.

"What was that? The roads? Yes, Mac, I'll be careful." Stella rolls her eyes and smiles, "See you there."

Stella pulled her GPS from the glove compartment, entered the address Mac had given her, and shoved the device into the holder on the dash. This call was out on the far edge of the city, for a case in another jurisdiction that showed too many similarities to one of their own for comfort. She and Mac needed to see this latest crime scene for themselves, but given the current road conditions, it was going to take forever to get there. It was slow going. Snow was coming down fast and heavy; huge flakes that quickly piled up. She could tell the city plows had been through once, but there was already another good inch of snow on the street and it was packing down, getting slick. She continued at a steady pace and eventually even the traffic of a city that never sleeps had thinned out as she got further from the city center and residents got off the roads. The street lights were fewer and farther between out here, and she could only see two sets of tail lights in front of her and no one behind her. She turned on the radio for company and to see if anything about their crime scene had hit the news yet. Nothing; there was just music, until the station broke in with a weather bulletin.

"The National Weather Service has issued a Blizzard Warning for New York City and the surrounding areas. Included in the warning area are the following counties….

Stella zoned out for a bit as she drove, mesmerized by the snow. It was coming down now, not in big, lacy flakes, but in multitudes of tiny ones that swirled first one direction, then another as they came down thick enough to make visibility a problem. More snow shifted from one side of the road to the other, only an inch from the surface and looking like a large snake curling its body back and forth as it moves, blurring any attempt to see where the tracks of the previous vehicles had been. Stella considered herself an adventurous winter driver and she was good with ice and snow, but this was beginning to worry her a bit.

Once again, her phone rang. She reached for it carefully so as not to jerk on the wheel; her eyes didn't leave the road.

"Hello?"

"Stella?"

"Oh. Hi, Mac. Don't tell me, you've beaten me to the scene. Look, I'm going as fast as I can, but…"

"Stop. Just listen. Find a place to pull off and turn around. I was already half-way to the scene when I called you and I just arrived. The roads are getting worse by the minute."

"Tell me about it!" Stella jumped in.

"If you'd stop interrupting…I'm trying to tell you to turn around and go back. They've issued a blizzard warning and it's just too dangerous. I'm already stuck out here. The crime scene is degrading fast in this weather. I'll finish going over the scene myself, get a hotel room near the crime lab, and then see what I can do tomorrow about helping the local lab techs process the evidence so we can see just how similar these two cases really are. I'll send what I can to our lab electronically tomorrow and do what I can from here until the storm blows over and the roads are passable again."

"Thanks, Mac. It really is getting bad out here. I'm pulling off at a gas station right now. I'm going to grab a cup of coffee and head home."

"Good. Stella?" Mac's face shifted from a confident, concentrating on business look to an uncertain frown.

"Hmmn?"

"Call me back when you get home?"

"Sure, Mac. Stay warm. Bye." Stella gave a soft smile.

A few minutes later, Stella emerged from the gas station, Styrofoam cup in hand. Fortified by the smell of the coffee and her first couple of sips, she stepped from the warmth of the gas station and hurried to the Avalanche.

She'd not been back on the road long when the winds picked up. She could now hear it whistling and damn if the snow wasn't blowing horizontally. She shook her head; she'd never seen it this bad and she'd lived through lots of winter storms brought in by the Nor'easters.

Stella gripped the steering wheel tighter as she fought against the wind in order to stay on the road.

Suddenly, a great gust belted the side of the vehicle and for several seconds, the road just wasn't there. She felt the ruts grabbing at the wheels, when just as suddenly, the gust blew itself out. She hit a pocket of still air and the force she was exerting on the steering wheel was now too much. Stella relaxed her hold, but it was too late. The vehicle went into a spin. Stella frantically tried to steer into and then out of the spin, but the vehicle just went sideways. The last thing she was aware of was an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach that felt just like those moments on a roller coaster ride when you start plunging downward, arms raised, screaming in delight. Only this time, the sensation came with nothing but dread.

The Avalanche slammed into a side-rail before flipping up and over, and rolling down the hill. It came to rest, upright but severely mangled, in a snow-drift at the edge of a thickly wooded area.

Mac grabbed the key card from his coat pocket and entered the hotel room. A hot shower restored his reasonably good mood. He ordered breakfast from room service and flipped on the TV while he waited. It was nearing 5:30am. It wouldn't be light for another couple of hours, and he couldn't get into the local lab till at least 7 am, so he just as well relax a little.

His mind turned to other things and it was then he realized Stella had never called him back. He did a little mental math and decided if the roads out where she was were anything like the last couple of miles he'd driven from crime scene to hotel, it could take her another half-hour at least to get home.

An hour's worth of the history channel later, Mac was no closer to sleep and was gearing up a powerful concern about Stella's wellbeing. He tried calling her cell, but it rolled to voicemail.

"Stella, are you home?" Mac frowns. "When you get this, call me."

As quickly as it had deployed, the airbag in Stella's vehicle deflated. The seatbelt had tightened and locked in place, pinning Stella firmly against the back of her seat. Her head rested on the edge of the opening where the window had been and her eyes were closed. She had deep cuts from the broken glass, and blood streamed down her forehead and the left side of her face. Except for the wind and the swish of the snow, there was no sound.

When Stella came to about fifteen minutes later, she was disoriented. Her head pounded and her body ached with bruises and from the cold. She took a deep breath to clear her head, but was rewarded with sharp pains to her head and her ribs. Now more cautious, she began testing out the extent of the damage; she moved fingers and wiggled toes. So far, so good. Wrists, elbows, shoulders, sore, but under her control. Ankles, knees….and she let loose a string of Greek curses through clenched teeth. She tried to release the seatbelt so she could lean forward further to get a better look at the problem, but it was stuck and holding her tight to the backrest. Great. She used her hands to feel around her lower thigh and knee. A piece of jagged metal was stuck through her leg just above the knee. She touched the metal and immediately regretted it. She wanted to rip it out, but without getting a better look first, she knew she shouldn't. She jabbed at the button to release her seatbelt again, to no avail. Reaching for the bag beside her, she felt around inside till she found the little bag with the pair of nail scissors. Slowly she began snipping at the belt across her chest. Finally free of that restraint, she leaned down and assessed the situation. Sighing with relief, she grabbed the jagged metal strip and pulled. Her vision blurred out and she panted in pain. Tears came to her eyes and she relaxed her grip on the metal. It was in solidly and deep-embedded partially into the bone. It was all that stood between getting herself out of the vehicle so she go for help, and she had to get it out. Taking hold with both hands, she yanked hard. The metal pulled free and she fell back against the seat, trying to even out her breathing and waiting for the black at the edges of her vision to clear. Suddenly she felt her temperature increase. Sweat beads broke out on her forehead and her stomach flipped. She leaned over and retched until it was nothing but dry heaves, wiping a forearm weakly across her mouth as she finished. She reached up and with difficulty, pulled the scarf from around her neck, and tied it tightly just above the wound. The added pressure should stop the bleeding, but with it came another temperature spike and another bout of nausea. This time, when she was done, she leaned weakly back in her seat to rest.

"What next?" Stella thought for a while. "Cell phone. Of course; why hadn't she done that first?" She leaned forward and began looking. There it was, in the foot well on the passenger side. Damn. She reached again for the nail scissors and sawed her way through the lap belt. As it finally gave, she felt another sharp pain, this time in her abdomen, which was soon replaced with a heavy, dull ache. Once the pain decreased, she leaned down and grabbed for the phone. As she came back up, her head throbbed and she had to gasp for air. For a few moments, everything swam, then nothing.

Mac finished his last bite of eggs and got up from his seat at the little table in his room. He glanced from his cell phone, which was lying on the bed, to the TV, which was now tuned to the Weather Channel. He made a decision, grabbed the TV remote, and sat down on the foot of the bed, turning to a local station to get a more detailed picture of what he might have to deal with in another hour when it was time to meet the detective from last night's crime scene at the local lab.

Twenty minutes later, Mac couldn't stand it anymore. He turned off the TV and grabbed his phone, hitting Stella's number on speed-dial, again getting her voicemail.

"Stella, I've still not heard from you. Call. NOW. If I don't hear from you in 15 minutes, I'm sending out the Mounties. I'm heading into the local lab in a few minutes, but I mean it. Call me as soon as you get this." Mac lowers the phone slightly, ready to end the call, but hesitates, then raises it up again.

"Stella, please. Call. I'm getting worried about you."