CSI:New York : Who Are You? (Don Flack/OFC fanfic)

House of Flying Pigs

Mac was deep in thought working his way through the crime scene photos in front of him. He and Stella were working a new case together, the murder of a young dancer moonlighting as a prostitute and he had the photos pinned to a large mobile whiteboard so he could see each one as it had been taken; the way he preferred. He heard neither the knock on the glass door or the opening of it.

Olivia stepped inside. 'Mac?'

Her boss was wearing his usual dark blue suit complete with gold and black enamel Detective pin in the lapel and a mixed blue striped tie with a white shirt and it reminded her of last night's conversation with Evan, not that she'd needed her memory jogged. She had spent a good portion of the previous night lying awake debating whether or not she did have a crush on her supervisor or if it were just a harmless, curious interest. It certainly hadn't helped her disturbed sleep pattern any. Just then Mac looked up and gave her a smile.

'Olivia, didn't hear you come in.'

She wasn't sure if it was because she was still feeling awkward after last night, or if it were the untoward thoughts that had been racing through her mind; but her stomach seemed to jolt when he smiled at her. 'I did knock.' She held up a sheet of paper. 'Just dropping these off for Adam.'

'Thanks.' Mac stretched over and took the paper from her, the results of the rape kit from the dancer. He perused them for a moment and then sighed. 'Inconclusive. Unable to confirm a positive ID. Seems she had sexual relations with four different men last night.'

'Party girl.'

Mac lifted his head and gave her a wry smile. 'Close. Working girl. One of these four men is our killer.'

'Unless you're dealing with a necrophiliac, my money's on the last one.'

Mac saw the small grin play on her features. 'And there was me thinking Danny was the lab's comedy relief.'

'It's about time someone knocked him off his perch.' She nodded at the paper in his hands. 'What about DNA?'

'Any possible seminal fluid leaked from a condom used would be diminutive. Certainly not enough for trace.'

Olivia nodded. 'Four guys? Chances are her uterus is a milkshake.'

It didn't take Mac long before he began chewing down on his lip, as he so often did when he was thinking. 'She knew her killer,' he suddenly realised. 'It wasn't a random attack. If it had been, would he have worn a condom?'

'Highly doubtful. Unless he's a germaphobe or married.'

'We didn't find any used condoms at the scene.' Mac glanced at one of the photos pinned to the board. 'But we did find skin cells underneath her fingernails.'

'If she fought back, the guy got rough with her. Four possible suspects in the rape and murder of a prostitute. Make's mine and Messer's face-off seem like a breeze.'

'How's that coming?'

'Sid confirmed a sword was the murder weapon and I managed to narrow it down to ten possibilities. We're about to get to work on a reconstruction.'

'Keep me informed.'

'Sure.' She turned to leave and then hesitated; when she looked back he was once again deep in thought going through the photos. She didn't know if she wanted to mention last night or just let it go. Mac hadn't said anything and his demeanour towards her wasn't any different to how it had always been. Which was a good thing. But she just felt that she needed to say something.

Mac saw her hovering by the door and turned his head. 'Was there something else?'

If she'd been about to back out it was too late now. She scratched dismissively at a spot behind her ear. 'I was just, y'know, wondering...about last night,' she began. His gaze was holding hers. 'I don't know why, but I still feel so terrible invading on you the way I did.'