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"...Whatever became of the moment when one first knew about death? There must have been one, a moment, in childhood when it first occurred to you that you don't go on for ever. It must have been shattering - stamped into one's memory. And yet I can't remember it. It never occurred to me at all. What does one make of that? We must be born with an intuition of mortality. Before we know the words for it, before we know that there are words, out we come, bloodied and squalling with the knowledge that for all the compasses in the world, there's only one direction, and time is its only measure."

Feb. 23rd, 2005 @ 08:51 pm
Jim gathered the scattered photos and dropped them into an Evidence envelope. Grissom had taken off like his shorts were on fire: obviously something important was happening.

Jim drew a hand over his tired face and reached for the phone; he punched in the numbers and waited, listening to the rings.


Jim smiled. "Hey, you."

"Jim?" On the other end, Nick smiled. "When are you coming home?" he asked. "It's getting lonely around here without you, if you know what I mean."

Jim laughed, for what felt like the first time in days. "I think you need to come back to work soon," he said, "you don't have nearly enough to do."

"If you came here, we could do lots of stuff together," Nick said teasingly.

"I'll be home soon, promise. I, ah...I got some things to tie up here."

Nick, ever alert to his lover's moods, latched on. "What's going on?"

"It's nothing, it's..."

"Jim, don't bullshit me. Not after everything we've been through."

"He's taking pictures, Nicky...of the victims. The, uh...the perp's taking pictures of them." He forced himself to breathe. "And sending them to me."

"What? Jim, are you serious? Man, that's sick!"

"Yeah, it's sick, it's...they're addressed to me, Nick. The pictures."

There was a long silence, then, "So this is personal. Is that what you're telling me?"


"That settles it. I'm coming back to work first thing tomorrow."

"Nicky, I don't---"

"Jim, this isn't your decision, man! Now come home. You should have clocked off hours ago."

Suddenly it was exactly where he wanted to be. "I'll be there in five minutes," he said.

Jim sighed and relaxed back into the pillows. He reached out a lazy arm and drew Nick close.

"Good?" The Texan's voice caressed his ear.

"No, it was horrible," Jim shot back. "I hated every minute of it. Couldn't you tell?"

"Must have been the groaning that gave you away," Nick quipped. He leaned in and pressed his mouth against Jim's neck. "So when are you gonna tell me?"

Jim's heart began a savage rhythm in his chest: He knows...he saw Grissom put his hands on you...he knows everything... "What do you mean?"

"Was she in the pictures? Was Janice..."

"Yeah." Jim forced himself to sound normal. "Can we not talk about it?"

"Come here." Nick drew Jim into his arms and covered them both with the eiderdown. "Go to sleep, baby. I love you."
Case Data
Feb. 23rd, 2005 @ 05:00 pm
At the close of her third shift Jess glanced surrepetitiously over at Greg as she finished cleaning up her station, her hair starting to work its way slowly out of its pinned up bun, curling around her ears and falling in tendrils down her neck. "So what would a girl have to do to get some help unpacking around here?"
Case Data
Feb. 22nd, 2005 @ 03:16 pm Eye Spy
Dave woke before daylight and peered over at Bobby; the blond was still asleep, sprawled on his back and having some sort of very involved dream. Dave climbed out of bed and went first to the bathroom, then to the kitchen to get a drink. He twisted the top off a bottle of water and drank it standing at the sink, gazing out the window. Amazing how standing naked in the dark didn't bother him now, whereas even a few weeks ago he'd have been running for cover. Maybe - here his face relaxed into a grin - maybe that's what being in love does for you.

A flicker of movement from the garden caught his peripheral vision, and he blinked. Perhaps he was imagining things? He checked all the doors and windows, testing the locks to make sure the house was secure, then went back to bed.

Dave's arms were suddenly full of warm and sleepy Bobby. "Where've you been, sugar?"

"I thought I saw something, outside in the yard."

"Probably a cat." Bobby interrupted himself to yawn. "Go back to sleep, huh?"

"Yeah. Most likely it's nothing."

The man crouched underneath the window, watching them.
Case Data
Feb. 21st, 2005 @ 07:34 pm A Different Kind of Summons
Luka smiled as an exhausted Mike drifted into sleep, his fingers entwined with Luka's. They had spent some time exploring the fine art of kissing, and Luka found himself very pleased indeed with their experiments.

A tap at the door brought him to his feet as he gently disentangled himself from Mike. He opened it, gazed for a long moment at the man there, and immediately lowered his eyes. How easily I fall back into the posture of acolyte, even in this place.

"You must return at once," the man said.

"How did you find me?" It was not the wisest of questions: The Order had its own ways and means.

"You must return with me at once." The man indicated the street beyond. "Leave everything, and come with me."

"But what about...?" Luka glanced back at the apartment, his thoughts going at once to Mike. "May I not say goodbye?"

"You must return at once."

So there was nothing more to say, not even goodbye. Without even a backward glance, Luka closed the door behind him, and vanished into the city.
Case Data
Feb. 18th, 2005 @ 08:14 am
"...Grissom...I need to talk to Grissom."

Jim flung open his office door and charged down the hall, the photographs clutched in his fist. He glanced into Grissom's office, but the supervisor wasn't in there, so he started off towards the break room. Grissom was a workaholic, sure (look who's talking!) but he did drink coffee, and he was in the habit of going to the break room.

"Hey you--" Jim addressed the young man sitting at the table. "You seen Grissom?"

The man gazed at him for a moment. "Uh, sorry, no."

"Who are you, anyway?"

"Uh, Tim Speedle. I transferred from Miami."

Jim nodded in a distracted manner. "Miami, yeah. Okay. If you see Grissom, will you tell him I'm looking for him?"

"Who should I say is looking for him?"

"Jim Brass."

He let the door swing shut behind him.
Case Data
Feb. 17th, 2005 @ 11:10 pm Typical.
Emotional State: aggravatedaggravated
Background Noise: percolation.
Another flash of pain burrows into his skull as his fingers move up to knead it, trying to relax himself. The headache persists though and he realizes it's just because he's annoyed. He has got to relax. Calm. Serene.

Calleigh still hasn't called him with any case details he doesn't even know who she had in mind to help her, but that's fine. He had the choice to either wait at the hotel or at the crime lab and now after another shower and some rest he's back at the lab, sitting quietly in the break room.

Nursing his third cup of coffee he sets the cup down on the table just in time, a second earlier it would have shattered. After hearing the rather loud ruckus in another room down the hall he was quite startled. Tilting his head he tries to hear anything else after that, only muffled shouting can be heard and nothing else.

If this was Miami he'd be over there in a heartbeat but since this isn't his environment he decides to remain where he is. Eyebrow quirked he nevertheless has his curiosity piqued.

Dark eyes wander down to his phone again as he growls.

"Ring damn it."
Case Data
Feb. 16th, 2005 @ 08:11 pm Postal Strange
Jim listened carefully as Calleigh outlined the situation to him, then nodded. "Right. Yeah, I'll go with you, sure. Just let me know when, okay?" They made arrangements to stay in close contact, and Calleigh said she had some things to take care of. Jim stood as she left - something he rarely did (even though manners had been drummed into him by his mother.) Somehow, Calleigh's Southern presence seemed to demand it.

He turned his attention to the mail, specifically the manila envelope. As a precaution, he pulled on gloves before opening it. No point in ruining a perfectly good set of prints. It was a sad fact of a policeman's life that Brass saw crime scenes no matter where he looked.

He slit the envelope neatly and let the contents tumble out into his hand: a slip of paper and perhaps half a dozen black-and-white photos. At first he wasn't sure what he was looking at. The first three photos were closeup shots of a woman's legs and hands. Not unti the fourth photograph did Jim realise what he was looking at.

His face prickled and his hands shook; he thrust the photo away from him and shoved his chair back from the desk. The room retreated, growing dim about the edges, and he was forced to drop his head, take some deep breaths.

The woman in the photo was Janice. Dead Janice, Janice with her throat ripped open, what the hell had Robbins made of the post-mortem?

He remembered there hadn't been one. He couldn't remember why.

He drew the piece of paper towards him.
Grand work the last job was. I gave the lady no time to squeal. How can they catch me now. I love my work and want to start again.

"Son of a bitch!" He swung his arm, clearing the desk. A paperweight bounced off the opposite wall. "You fucker! You goddamn animal!"

He knew the quote; he remembered where he'd read it.

It was an excerpt from the letters of Jack the Ripper - circa 1888.
Case Data
Feb. 14th, 2005 @ 07:26 pm Something Wicked This Way Comes...
Jim listened to Calleigh, giving her as much of his attention as he was able, but part of his mind was continually being drawn back to the envelope he'd received earlier that day. He still hadn't opened it - in fact, he'd left it on his "In" tray with the rest of the mail, thinking to open it after lunch.

It was a large manila envelope, the kind people often used to send photos; his name and address was written on the front, by someone using a Sharpie marker: JIM BRASS, BOSS OF HOMICIDE, LAS VEGAS P.D.

Boss of homicide? That was new. It reminded him of something...he couldn't quite put his finger on it... Dear Boss...maybe he'd read it somewhere or saw it in a movie...there was something else, too...

I am down on whores and I shan't quit ripping them till I do get buckled.

He forced his attention back to Calleigh. "Sorry - what were you saying?"
Case Data
Feb. 13th, 2005 @ 06:45 pm
Cold hard bitch. Calleigh felt terrible sending Speed back to his hotel. She knew how invested he was in this case, and she didn't mean to step on his toes... but some things had to be taken carefully. When presented with a needles in a haystack she knew Speed's first choice would be to burn the whole thing to the ground. It would save time, sure, but how much would go up in smoke?

And as it was, Speed gave her a little grudging half-smile as she turned to head back inside, and that in itself was something.

The night shift had been in for a couple of hours, and the labs were quietly, solidly busy. Not wanting to interrupt any of the technicians, she followed the directory to Captain Brass' office and knocked.
Case Data
Feb. 12th, 2005 @ 04:51 pm Memento Mori
Jim finished talking to Mira and rang off; he turned to see Nick coming out of the bedroom, dry-eyed and sober, dressed in a dark suit. "Nicky...you don't have to do this. I don't expect you to go to the service. I know..." God, it was hard to talk; his throat felt swollen together. "I know what she did to you. I don't expect you to just forget about it."Read more...Collapse )
Case Data
Feb. 11th, 2005 @ 08:05 pm Spider Web
Within three hours, she was at the airport. Then it was an interminable dawn-til dusk flight, the kind where time never seems to pass. The clouds moved above and below, and the sun slunk across the sky, and by the time Calleigh's flight was circling Las Vegas waiting to land, it was heading into dusk.

Below, she could see the garish lights of the Strip. Miami was a bright town, sure, but it was nothing like this, a twenty-four-hour hallucination in gasbright colours. She was used to salt water and sand and surf, and out here there was scrub, rock and cacti, and the city that built itself up from nothing in the middle of the desert.

At least Speed was true to his word, met her in Arrivals and they walked out together.
Case Data
Feb. 11th, 2005 @ 04:11 pm Business as Usual
Grissom saw Jess out of his office and returned to his desk to look over her resume, gather some of the paperwork she would have to work up when she came in the next day. The best part about running a forensics lab, it never took much time to get the background check done. Though, they usually turned up more than they were really asking for. But that was neither here nor there. If she was applying for the position, she knew she had to be competant.

Now, this meant that since they found a replacement DNA tech, they would be training Greg Sanders to get out into the field.

Grissom smiled at the thought of that. After all these years, the lab rat was itching to get out and do real CSI work. He wasn't really sure why he agreed to give Sanders a chance. Maybe because he knew the young man was more than capable of it. Despite his general attitude and rather...off the wall antics, Greg could do it. Gil had faith in him.

But he wasn't out of the lab yet. And Grissom needed to know if he found anything from Hodges' crimescene. Organization finished, he stepped from his office and headed to the DNA lab.

And found Greg missing.

Great. Just great.

A few steps and he could hear Greg's and what he could tell was Jess Shapiro's voices.


The woman wasn't even officially part of the lab yet and Greg was already hitting on her. Well, that wasn't any big surprise there.

Grissom moved closer and cleared his throat. "Greg, if your finished I need to know about the samples I gave you from Hodges' case?"
Case Data
Feb. 11th, 2005 @ 11:33 am lab society
It was the flash of red in his peripheral vision that distracted him from work -- that was one well-dressed lady, even considering Catherine and Sara (and Aiden, he mentally scolded himself), heading into Grissom's office. Greg finished up the sample he was working on and casually rolled his chair closer to the door. That way, he looked like he was still working and not, as he was in fact, watching the people walking past in the hallway for a certain someone.

There she was. He popped up and dodged through the doors to cheerfully accost the receptionist. "April! How's it going?"

April, looking mildly harassed, shuffled some papers as she continued walking at a brisk pace. "Fine. What do you want?" She asked pointedly, not without some amusement.

Greg put on a good boy face. "I was just saying hi. But if you wanted to tell me something, you could tell me who the woman visiting Grissom is."

"Jealous?" April smiled serenely at Greg's look of outrage. "You'll like this. She's here to talk to him about the lab position."

Greg garbled something at her gleefully. April just shook her head and continued down the hall without him. He slipped back into the lab, but kept one eye on the door, bouncing his knee restlessly.
Case Data
Feb. 9th, 2005 @ 06:27 pm
Mira checked her watch: it would soon be time for the memorial service. She had been trying unsuccessfully to find Luka, but could not. It had been nearly forty-eight hours since she had last seen him, and while she trusted his innate ability to take care of himself, she wondered where in the world he was. Luka didn't own a cellphone and had no access to email or pagers or any of the other gadgets currently in vogue. I will have to send out a courier pigeon, she thought, smiling. Some part of her accepted that Luka would have a life outside of her, but another part of her was just a little jealous.

She picked up the phone and dialled Jim's number.

"Yeah, this is Brass."

"James. How are you?" Mira winced. That is an unforgivable question. "I'm sorry...please, I meant no harm by it. It appears my brains have fallen up."

"Out," Jim amended. Mira could almost hear him smiling on the other end. "Are you coming to the, uh..."

"I am on my way. As soon as the cab arrives."

"Oh, Mira, you shouldn't have called a cab - I could have picked you up."

"You have far more serious things to worry about, James." She paused as a horn sounded outside the door. "I will be there in a few moments."

She hated funerals - truly, what sane person liked them? - but James was her oldest friend, and she intended to be there for him. He needed her today - and James was a man who kept his needs and wants largely to himself. He had a rare talent for helping others, and an equal talent for giving himself short shrift.

With a quick glance back at the apartment, she went out.
Case Data
Feb. 9th, 2005 @ 12:42 am First Day Jitters
Jessica Shapiro walked through the building, wavy brunette hair falling in perfect waves around her Prada-clad shoulders and three and a half inch spike Jimmy Choos clicking across the linoleum, with what appeared to be directions clutched tightly in her manicured fingers.

After checking the name on the door with the wadded up paper a few times she squared her shoulders and stepped forward, knocking with a no-nonsense rap of the knuckles. "Dr. Grissom? I'm here about the DNA I opening you had advertised on AAFS."
Case Data
Feb. 8th, 2005 @ 06:55 pm The Waiting Game
Dave tried not to think of the interrogation as he sat in his cell, waiting. Ordinarily, he considered himself a very cool customer, but now? He'd wanted to see Bobby so badly, but now that Bobby had gone - had been driven out by that thug in a uniform, Dave amended - he felt worse than ever.

He rested his head in his hands for a moment. At least there was one ray of hope: Bobby still wanted him. That was something. That was a VERY big something.

He looked up as a shadow fell across the cell...Read more...Collapse )
Case Data
Feb. 7th, 2005 @ 07:25 pm
Emotional State: excitedexcited
A few hours later he returns to the lab a little bit more rested after the quick but much needed nap. He also doesn't seem as scruffy but he still sports his trademark stubble. Now with a clean, ironed, dark olive shirt, black slacks and his favorite 'beatle boots' he moves quietly down the hall dropping off a few papers at the front desk.

He still has his phone, hooked on a belt loop, keeping it with him at all times just in case she calls.

And for the millionth time he glances down at it, just to make sure it hadn't beeped while he wasn't paying attention. A few seconds later, while still at the front desk he catches himself before doing it again, shaking his head.

Still looking down at his phone he smirks, stating quietly, "This doesn't say much about my nightlife."
Case Data
Feb. 6th, 2005 @ 10:47 am begging for escape..
Background Noise: lucinda williams - "worlds fell"
sara was absolutely positive she was walking a deep groove into the tightly - woven carpet of her living room. bare feet carried the lanky woman back and forth, marking a path parallel the sliding glass door that showcased sara's own little view of sin city. after the first two days of her mandatory leave, the brunette had stopped wallowing in memories. well.. more like she forced them away. she'd lived with them for thirty some-odd years now; just call her the queen of unhealthy repression.

her confession to grissom felt comforting in that moment; to have someone.. anyone know a piece of the puzzle that was sara sidle. and grissom had always been someone sara trusted.. perhaps more than she should. but now.. now her actions just left her feeling rattled. it was sinking in how big a piece of the puzzle she'd let go. sara didn't like it. she didn't like someone knowing so much.

a somewhat shakey hand rose to push an errant brown lock behind an ear. what to do.. what to do.. she wasn't allowed back at the lab. ecklie ( or catherine for that matter ) would literally take her head off. oh, catherine! that was a whole 'nother story. her vehemence to not apologize to her colleague only left sara feeling even more miserable. why did she last out at the older woman so? she didn't want to.

``c'mon, sidle..`` that prize - winning brain was working mile - a - minute, trying to decipher her next plan of action. and that plan of action was concerning namely: what the fuck to do for the next four days. she'd already cleaned her apartment five times, reorganized her already alphabetized CD collection ( it now sported genre sub-categories ) and caught up on afternoon talk and court room shows.

groaning something akin to frustration, the gangly sara sidle ambled over to her armchair and crawled into it. the sun was filtering through the blinds of one window, and she mused that she SHOULD be at the lab right now.. pulling overtime on something ( mostly to piss ecklie off rather than actually have work to do ). but instead she was stuck at home, fighting away paranoia and memories. go figure. and lucinda williams just crooned on in the background..
Case Data
Feb. 6th, 2005 @ 10:55 am Its Own Reward
Emotional State: lovedloved
"Hey, Jim?" Nick was lying on his side, facing Jim; the detective was dozing, blissfully relaxed for once.

"Mhm?" Jim cuddled closer to Nick. "What is it, baby?"

"Thank you."

Jim's eyes opened. "What'd they put in your IV?" he teased. "Nicky, you don't need to thank me for anything." He touched Nick's cheek. "I'd do anything for you. You know that."

"Yeah, but..."

"Yeah but nothing." Jim held the CSI's gaze. "I love you - and love is for real, Nick. It's forever. It doesn't make promises it can't keep. Understand?"

Nick merely nodded, his dark eyes wet.

"Hey, I got something that'll make you happy." Jim's blazer was hanging on the back of a chair; he reached over and took something out of the pocket. "Here."

Nick turned the brochure over in his hand, looked at it: the sea, a whale, some really big mountains, and a whole bunch of happy people. "NewFOUNDland," he said.

"Naw, they tell me it's pronounced more like..." Jim tried it, "Newfinlaaaaaaaand."

"Newfinland." Nick nodded. "Okay, Jim, I give up. What's this about?" He thumbed through the brochure. "I mean, it's beautiful, but I'm just not making the connection."

"They're very forward-thinking," Jim said. "They legalized same-sex marriage."
He waited while the lights went on in Nick's brain.

It didn't take long at all. "Jim! Are you sayin'...?"

"Marry me?"

"Hell, yeah!" Nick hugged him. "I'll marry you in NewFOUNDland!"

"Newfinlaaaaaaaand," Jim said, correcting him.

Case Data
Feb. 5th, 2005 @ 12:21 pm casefiles bring those unwanted headaches
Aiden sat on a stool, staring over the casefiles that she had laid out in front of her on the layout table. She had been sitting there for some time going over and over again each document, photo and evidence and seemed to come up blank.

She supressed a yawn and at the same time felt a headache coming on. True, Aiden wasn't getting much sleep but it wasn't because she was partying or anything but in fact just lying in her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Instead of thinking about getting sleep each night, Aiden thought about the crime lab and her transfer to here. In a way, Aiden felt that she shouldn't be here. That it was a wrong choice for her to be transferred here and she could sense some of it in the workers at the Crime Lab but she forced herself to ignore it for the day and instead think about it when she had time.

"I've got nothing." She said fustrated as she ran a hand through her long dark hair before sighing. She was going in circles with the case and she had no idea where to go next.
Case Data
Feb. 4th, 2005 @ 04:13 pm hospitals
It wasn't like people normally enjoyed hospitals, but Greg tried not to let the sounds and smells and unpleasant reminders get to him. He was armed, damnit. Armed with magazines, a crossword puzzle book, and a vague worry about just how energetic he should be around Nick.

He couldn't help peeking in first, which turned out to be a good thing, because there was Nick and there was Brass and they were definitely maybe having a moment ... no, Brass was asleep. Greg bounced a little on the soles of his feet, not uncomfortable with the whole Nick-hugging-sleeping-Jim-Brass situation, no, but even he wasn't really the type to just waltz in. But he wasn't waltzing out either. In fact there would be no waltzing of any kind in any direction. He hadn't seen Nick in what seemed like forever and he was armed, right. Greg knocked lightly, then stuck his head in the door.

"Room service." He called softly.
Case Data
Feb. 4th, 2005 @ 12:58 pm To Work, To Wait, To Pray, To Overcome
Mira stared into her teacup, wishing there was less noise in the crowded hospital cafeteria. The swarm of people greatly upset her concentration. I have been too long away from the disciplines. She gazed into the swirling liquid. Luka hungers for the touch of another, she mused. I cannot give him that, and yet he will not seek it elsewhere.

Luka would never go back to the monastery - she knew this. His soul had drunk its fill of the cloister, and what he needed now must be found in the outside world.

The intercom crackled overhead: "Doctor Mira Bubalo, please go to Seventh Floor ICU, please. Doctor Mira Bubalo..."

Mira smiled. Doctor Bubalo? Only a Ph.D. Hopefully no one would ask her to remove their tonsils.

She left her tea, and went to catch the elevator.
Case Data
Feb. 3rd, 2005 @ 08:13 pm
Emotional State: tiredtired
Background Noise: car horns blaring.
He stepped out of the cab, gazing up at the impressive building before him. Not as bright as the Miami Crime Lab but the first thing he noticed about Vegas was the darkness. Miami was splashed with pastels whereas Vegas seemed more content with primaries, which was fine with him. Under his arm he held his case file.Collapse )

He was told to stop off and check to see if a Gil Grissom was available, while spiders aren't exactly insects he was hoping to get some insights from the man.

He didn't think Mr. Grissom would be here at the moment but he wanted to go in and check the place out, he already unpacked at his hotel and didn't have much else to do. Even though it was about 2:30am Vegas was teeming with life, but with Emma on his mind he couldn't quite match their enthusiasm. Not yet at least.
Case Data
Feb. 3rd, 2005 @ 08:03 pm
Jim's mind was in a turmoil as he drove back to the hospital. What the hell was happening to the world? It seemed like there was some great, sucking vortex of evil in the middle of Vegas, and it was intent on dragging everybody down into it. It reminded him of that show that Ellie always watched...with the blonde girl and the pointy sticks...there was an evil vortex in that show, if he remembered right. And vampires.

He shook his head, willed himself back to the present. He'd hated having to bring Hodges in, but it was necessary, if only to keep him off the street. Jim had handed the case off to O'Reilly immediately; he knew Ray would take it from there, make sure all the Ts were crossed and the Is dotted.

He pulled into a parking spot, glad to be back at the hospital and close to Nicky. That was all that mattered now: getting Nicky well and back on his feet.

His cellphone rang; he flipped it open. "Brass."

"Jim, it's Albert. I know this isn't the best time, but we've got a problem."

Of course we do, Jim thought, that's why you're calling me. "Problem."

"Your ex-wife's body. I need to release it to somebody for burial. I'm wondering if you can tell me who that person might be?"

Jim nearly choked on his own spit, but managed to marshal himself and carry on. "Gloria Shearer. She's our family attorney." A white lie: he hoped God would forgive him. "You can get her on her cell at---"

Janice's body. He tried not to think of it. There would be time later for regrets and recriminations. Right now, Nick needed him to be strong.
Case Data
Feb. 3rd, 2005 @ 07:17 pm The Perp Walk
Jim was gentle with Dave, helping him out of the car, guiding him into the precinct. Dave stared straight ahead, willing himself not to look at anybody. I can get through this. I can do this. He focussed his attention on his feet, the pattern in the floor, the baseboard. He counted his steps, wondering how many it would take until he was in a cell, safe from prying eyes. Lucky so far, nobody in the corridors, nobody watching, probably between shifts and that was okay because...


Dave sensed rather than saw him. He raised his head and gazed at Bobby, and as he did something seemed to twist inside of him. "I'm sorry." It came out as a raw whisper. "Bobby, I never meant...oh God, I'm sorry."

And he was crying. Again.
Case Data
Feb. 3rd, 2005 @ 04:13 pm
I really hope this goes well. I'm kind of freaked about this whole thing. I mean I know I'm smart. I know I'm better than being on patrol the rest of my life. I wasn't a biology major for nothing. Not to mention trying to get my Master's in chemistry while working full time on patrol.

I'm tired of being there for the start and handing everything off to other people. I wanna see what happens, be there the whole way through. I wanna follow through, start to finish and make a difference. Speeding tickets just don't compare with putting someone away.

Got the brains, got the know how. Didn't take all those seminars for my health. Add in a mild case of OCD and you'll get a damn good CSI that's thorough. (Note: I prefer thorough to anal, thanks)

Just hope the guy thinks I'm up to it. And that there's room on the team.
Case Data
Feb. 2nd, 2005 @ 11:15 am The Right to Remain Silent...
Dave watched dully as Jim got into the front seat and started the car, watched as Jim radioed ahead to the precinct. "Yeah, this is Jim Brass, I'm bringing in a suspect for questioning. Let's keep this low-key, okay? Get O'Reilly on the horn. Tell him I see one television camera and I'm gonna be doling out ass-kickings, you hear me?"

"Thank you," Dave whispered. Jim appeared not to hear him, which was just as well. Maybe it was a bad idea for him to try and talk anyway - maybe he should just shut up. He'd already done enough. It was over for him now, and maybe that was all he deserved. He could accept that. He could accept that he'd royally fucked up and ruined his own life.

He would never, ever forgive himself for hurting Bobby.

That was unforgivable.
Case Data
Feb. 1st, 2005 @ 03:27 pm Soup and Soul-Searching
Luka told Mike of his time at the monastery, talking in a desultory fashion as they ate. The soup was, as Mike had promised, excellent; the bread was no less so. Luke deliberately stopped before he was full, not wanting to add gluttony to his ever-growing list of sins. He was amazed that Mike not only wanted to hear about the monastery, but actually listened to what Luka had to say. Or perhaps...

Luka allowed himself a small, very secret smile. "Of course, as I said to the abbot at the time, it was unfortunate that the women only brought one pole with them. I think my brothers most favoured Debby "Boom-Boom" Yoplanksi. She was most well-endowed. When it came time to lick melted chocolate from her attributes, the line stretched around the entire building."

"Great," Mike murmured. "That's...that's great."

"Michael, I believe I should escort you to your home so that you can sleep. I will rejoin Mira at the hospital. I promised to stay with him this evening."

"Wha?" Mike's head jerked up. "I wasn't...I was listening."

Luka laughed gently. "Tell me what I just said."

"Uhhh..." Mike looked blank.

"Debby 'Boom-Boom' Yoplankski," Luka replied. He threw his napkin down on the table. "Come on. I will take you home."
Case Data
Feb. 1st, 2005 @ 06:18 am Alone with Alex
There was very little that could surprise Horatio Caine. That Grissom left him alone with Alex after the older man had so clearly staked his claim was one of them. Horatio watched as Grissom left, still talking on his cellphone.

"Take care of Lex," he had been told. "Tell him I had a work emergency."

It had to be one hell of an emergency to leave a rival alone in his lover's house. But taking advantage of the situation wouldn't be the right thing. Grissom obviously trusted him to take care of Alex. And he knew how to. He knew what happened when Alex got one of his migraines. When he took his pills.

A hand ran through his hair and he turned his attention to the bedroom door. If he knew Alex, the man was most likely curled up on his bed at that moment, the pills upsetting his stomach. Caine went to the kitchen and hunted up a wash cloth, ran it under the cool water before he approached that door.

A soft knock of warning and he stepped inside, closed the door again and moved to settle on the bedside. He placed the cloth over Alex's eyes, a hand stroking his back. But he didn't say a word.
Case Data
Horatio - Thinking
Jan. 31st, 2005 @ 05:23 pm Get Her Out of Here
Dave marched his mother from the house and slammed the door on her. For once he didn't care how loud she screamed or what she said or how many times she cursed him.

"Who the fuck does she think I am?" he seethed, storming back into the bedroom where Bobby was quietly getting dressed. "Coming in here like she owns the place, like I even want her here!"

"Hey, hey, shhh..." Bobby stood in front of him and clasped Dave loosely in his arms. "Forget about her."

"I can hardly forget about her, Bobby! Unless whatever ship that dropped her off comes back from Planet Hell to get her. Or maybe we can hire out one of your redneck kin from Mudlick Holler to shoot her full of buckshot, huh?"

As soon as it was out of his mouth, he regretted it.Read more...Collapse )
Case Data