Imagine: The List
Fic posted by members of Vo's Imaginings YahooGroup
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Disclaimer: If you recognize the characters, I don't own them.

Lindsay hurriedly walks down the corridor, the smell emitting from her causing everybody to stop in their tracks, turn, and stare at her. She reaches the ladies room and smiles as an unseen hand holds the door open for her. The light switch is turned on inside and suddenly there's a bloodcurdling scream as the lights go out.

Everybody in earshot runs in that direction, finding her stretched out on the floor, body still twitching from the massive electrical jolt that had stopped her heart.

“What was she doing in here anyway?” Danny asks after the morgue attendants have taken her away. “I thought that even Montana would be able to read that this bathroom was out of order because of a leaking pipe.” Danny turns to look at the closed door, now blocked off by yellow crime scene tape across the door with the notice, 'Closed for repairs, do not use' artistically framed by the yellow tape.

“It's the first ladies room she saw, she probably didn't want to hunt for another one. Of course, just heading to the locker room would have gotten her more attention, attention she didn't want..” Flack snickers. “I've never heard of a person dying from being pissed on before, pissed off yes, but not pissed on.”

“Really? Tell me.” Mac orders. “I've got a ton of paperwork to fill out thanks to our late CSI.”

“We were at a scene in central park, and Lindsay was muttering something about how in Montana, we don't have horses in parks. I never knew that horses had such good hearing, one of the hansom cab horses stepped on her foot, another one took a dump on the other shoe, a third one pushed her in the lake, and while we were leaving, a lion at the nearby zoo umm 'scent-marked' her by long distance.” Flack says, his mouth twitching as he tries not to smile.

“Hmm,” Stella says, leaving the break room, “Shits to be Lindsay some day.” she says, smirking as she walks down the hallway.
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