FIC: Fire and Ice 3/12
Jul. 15th, 2005 02:38 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
moodymuse19.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
nickngregTitle: Fire and Ice (3/12)
Author: Fabs G (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
moodymuse19)
Category: Casefile, Angst
Pairing: Nick/Greg with some Grissom /Sara thrown in
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Grave Danger
Disclaimer: Ah, if only. The things I’d do.
Summary: Two girls have been killed, and as the team struggle to find their killer, Greg realizes just how much you can get involved with a case.
A.N.: As it's becoming customary, thanks tohawkeyecat for her beta!
5: The house and more flirting
Warrick and Catherine didn’t have much to with their evidence; without a match in CODIS or a suspect to compare them to, the DNA from the cig stub and the shoeprints were as good as useless.
The only thing they had to work with were the tire treads, which was only a matter of scanning the imprint Warrick had taken from the crime scene, scanning it onto the computer and letting the database find a comparison.
The backpacks the victims had taken hadn’t shed any light on their case except their confirmation that they were definitely going to spend the night out and head back in the morning, because they had just one change of clothes, no tent, nothing to say that they were camping.
The next obvious step, then, was the house the victims had shared.
Nick, Greg, Warrick, Sara and Brass headed out to the girls’ house as Grissom and Catherine tackled a B&E, which looked easy enough to not interrupt the current hot case.
The four of them looked at the small but well kept house in front of them. It was two-stories high, with thin bars on windows and a small front garden kept by someone who obviously didn’t have much of a green thumb.
“Warrick, Sara, help us inside, then you’ll check the perimeter of the house. Include a Peeping Tom check on the windows,” said Nick as he surveyed the front door.
They nodded, but Sara squinted as she smiled. “You’re liking this thing of being the boss way too much.”
Everyone chuckled and, while an officer opened the door to the house, Brass said he would go talk to the neighbors.
As soon as they entered the main room, one thing was clear.
“Book whores?” chuckled Nick. The room they were standing in was a living-dining room with an open-air kitchen- and just about every single surface had at least one book on it. There was probably more than a hundred. Two hundred, even.
“Geeks. Just the way I like them,” mused Greg, looking sideways at Nick and avoiding their customary hungry kiss because the officer, Warrick and Sara were still standing behind them. Nick just chuckled and shook his head, and swore to himself he’d make Greg pay for the sudden tightness of his pants.
The house didn’t seem big on the outside, but it was on the inside. On the first floor alone there was the living-dining room with the open-air kitchen, a bathroom, a guestroom, a small study and the laundry room.
The upstairs floor had two bedrooms, a bigger bathroom, and a larger study.
Searching the house for a clue as to what might have happened to them proved to be a challenge. The girls had been what Greg called ‘Keep-alls’.
“Ke-what?” asked Sara, examining the fridge contents as Greg went through their DVD collection, stashed inside an ornate cupboard.
“Keep-alls. You know, the people that can’t throw anything away? They keep ticket stubs, and restaurant checks, dried flowers and every single note and card they’ve ever received.”
“Oh yeah -everything has sentimental meaning,” she said as she smelled bad cheese, wrinkled her nose and stashed it back.
“I hear ya,” called Nick from the other side of the room, a shoebox full of movie tickets in his hands. “Either they collected them or they really were--” he looked at Greg and smiled “--keep-alls.”
Warrick emerged from the bathroom. “Bathroom hasn’t been used in months.”
“They have one upstairs. Greg and I saw it when we did the walkthrough”
“Ooh, what is this?” called Greg from the drawer in the cupboard he was examining.
And if there ever was a question that draw the attention of CSIs in a crime scene, it was that which Greg had uttered.
Sara, Warrick and Nick went to him as if pulled by a rope. Greg turned around with a stack of mini-tapes held between his hands. “Tapes,” he said simply. He placed them on the coffee table behind him and read the labels.
“Kat, Kat and Darby, February ’04. Darby, Darby, Darby and Darby, January ’04-- and so forth and so on.”
“This look like answering machine tapes,” said Sara.
Warrick held one tape (Kat, Darby, Kat, Kat, June ‘04) in one gloved hand. ”Do they have an answering machine? I just saw the phone”
“I did the kitchen. It’s under their kitchen counter” Sara said, walking to it. She took it, put it on the counter, and saw that there were two messages. She pushed play as everyone looked at her.
The machine’s electronic voice said the date of the message “June 21st, 2005, 8:34 am.”
A cheerful human voice continued. “Hey girls,” said a male voice. “Boss is seething- where are you? You’re already 33 minutes late. Better hurry!”
“June 21st, the day after they died. Sounds like a worried co-worker,” said Sara as the machine whirred itself to the next message.
“June 21st, 7:51 pm,” said the machine. Next came some noises that, to their best guess, sounded like someone with a bad cold, or maybe choking… or laughing.
“I’ll put this on Archie’s top list” said Sara as the message finished. She bagged the tape as everyone returned to what they had been working with.
Warrick and Sara moved up to the second floor while Nick and Greg finished processing the ground floor.
The bedroom Sara and Warrick were processing upstairs was decorated with the most random things—movie posters, a bookshelf with several statuettes in front of the books, a cupboard in one corner, all with a touch of Hindu influence, most noticeable on the king-sized bedspread.
Opening the cupboard, Warrick found several statuettes, unlit candles, and several herbs on a platter decorated with a five-pointed star.
Sara looked at it from over his shoulder “That’s a pagan altar. That’s Diana, a Roman goddess”
“Pagan?” he inquired as Sara moved past him and stroked a figure of a Goddess.
“Yeah, you know-- adoring-Mother-Earth kinda pagans. Probably Wiccan. I saw StarHawk’s The Spiral Dance downstairs. That’s a book,” she said as she moved to a bedside table.
“How is it that you know the most random things?” said Warrick as he photographed the altar.
“Grissom was my mentor,” she smiled widely and Warrick nodded, because that explained everything.
“Does that mean Sanders will be a second Grissom twenty years into the future?” Warrick smirked.
“Don’t think so- Greggo’s got our influence,” she smiled.
Their search didn’t yield much else, except when Sara shone the ALS over the bed sheets and found that there wasn’t a single semen stain-- no sex in a long time.
They worked on the other bedrooms, but both looked identical-- clean, but lifeless and sparse, almost as if no one had slept there in a long time.
Nick and Greg, while they weren’t finding any solid evidence on the who and the why of their deaths, were at least finding out about the girls’ personalities.
Katherine Williams had been a feisty one, judging by a karate uniform found in a closet, while Darby seemed to have been more quiet, judging by her name on most books and the username on the computer.
“Nick, look here,” said Greg from the computer.
“What’d you find?” said Nick, coming closer.
“Well, they belonged to several mailing lists, but I’ll go through it later. What I found, is that the victims were fellow fans of one of my favorite shows, ‘Queer as Folk’,” he said as he waved the DVD box set of Queer as Folk “I also found ‘The L Word’, rainbow flags all over the house... Now I find some story Katherine had written about that series, Forensics? She paired Eric and George. I think one or both our girls wouldn’t have fallen for my gorgeous looks.”
Nick crossed his arms and looked at him amused. “Aren’t you the one who is always trying to educate my homophobe neighbor?”
“He says those things as an insult. I just tease good-naturedly.”
“And for some, there’s no difference. Still, it’s gay or bi, Greg,” he said as he moved back to a bookshelf. “Besides, not everyone falls for your gorgeous looks, Greggo,” and his mind uttered a very simple ‘HA’.
Greg’s face was one of utter self-confidence--as usual. “You did” he grinned, even though the times they had uttered ‘I love you’ hadn’t been that abundant.
If Nick had been drinking, he’d have choked, and if he’d been driving he’d have wrapped his car around the nearest tree. Or the proverbial slamming and screeching of the brakes, if you will. Greg was right of course; he was in love with the guy--but Warrick and Sara were upstairs, and the officer was just outside the main door, and Brass had this creepy way of sneaking up on you when you least needed him to.
Nick looked at the stack of books and thought very well before turning and answering. Texan charm? On. “You know… on the clock and with Warrick and Sara upstairs? Not a good place to talk boyslash. Breakfast after shift? My place?” he asked with an obviously tone, because when you made it a statement it was just co-workers going out, but if you asked it with a slightly quivering voice, like he had, it turned into a whole different thing that sent Nick’s adrenaline rushing from head to toe and made him wish the damn shift would end already.
Greg’s smiled widened as he left the Queer as Folk DVDs besides the computer monitor. “Breakfast after shift,” he confirmed.
6: The door
After processing the top floor, which was smaller than the ground floor, Warrick decided it was best to process the perimeter before another storm came like the one from a few days ago at the crime scene and took Nick, who had finished processing and was just about to go outside himself.
They divided half of the perimeter each, because they realized the storm clouds were looking more ominous than they initially had.
They dusted every window in search of something unusual, and the dusting paid off when Warrick lifted a perfect print of someone’s face on one of the sitting-dining room windows. Nick lifted a face print too, but off the kitchen window.
Nick found a cigarette stub almost buried under the dirt. Although it could be anyone’s, or old, and the dirt and rainwater had probably done their number on it, he wasn’t about to risk it and bagged it.
They found little else of notice. When they met again, by the front door, they noticed something they hadn’t noticed before.
The door, made of a dark brown wood, was in perfect condition except for some markings at about six feet from the floor, done with something sharp, pointed – fingernails, a knife maybe? Warrick and Nick looked at each other and then started taking molds of the scrapings, even though they knew they’d have to take the door with them.
They were almost finished with the hinges of the door, ready to take it out completely, when Sara called from the inside.
“Hey guys?” called Sara from the other side of the door.
“Wait,” called Warrick as he finally unhinged the door, leaving it all to Nick.
“Man, this sucker is heavy! Give me a hand here!” Warrick moved to prevent Nick from being crushed by a--solid oak--door while Sara and Greg waited inside the house.
Brass came back from his interrogation of the neighbors, but stayed silent.
“What’ve you got?” Nick asked Sara once they had leaned the door against the wall, stretching out his aching arms. Greg came forward, took one of Nick’s wrists and pulled until they heard a soft ‘pop’!
Sara extended a piece of cloth she had been holding till now. “Any chance of this being a hate crime?”
What Sara was holding was a flag with six colors: red, orange, yellow, green, and some hues that looked like blue and violet: the gay pride flag. Only this one, in contrast with the colorful ones from the parades, was torn and stained, missing a big chunk. A statement of its own.
Warrick shook his head. “Well, considering how little we know--oh yeah”
It was in that moment that Brass spoke. “Everyone was in a talking mood,” he complained as Sara bagged the torn flag.
“Did they give you good conversation at least?” she asked.
“No, they all said the same- they moved here about a year ago, they were nice girls, they worked at the paper…”
“Basically, everything we know.”
“Not everything. Everyone agreed on something--they had an enemy”
Sara smiled like if Christmas had come early, and Greg looked thoroughly curious.
“Seven different families told me there was never a week without some encounter between either of the victims and a guy called Dominic Warren. Lives just down the street, it’s the only house with no top floor.”
“Did you talk to him?” asked Nick.
“Did I become a detective yesterday?” asked Brass, and Nick raised his hands with a smile, in a typical ‘don’t shoot’ gesture. “I did talk to him, he was kind enough to let me in and offer me a cup of tea--which I didn’t drink--and he told me he was working overtime--alone, sadly--when the murders happened. He said that yes, he didn’t agree with their ‘lifestyle’, and that it forced the three of them to ‘exchange heated words’ every once in a while, but that it never went beyond name calling. Any idea what he meant by ‘lifestyle’?”
“We found some evidence that the girls might have been lesbians, or at least bisexual,” said Nick, looking briefly at Greg.
“Not necessarily,” said Warrick. “Sara and I found a pagan altar upstairs.”
“Pagan?” frowned Nick.
“According to Sara, it’s the ‘adoring mother Earth’ kinda pagans.”
“Maybe they were killed for being both,” said Greg.
“So they were members of a non-mainstream religion and lesbians,” thought Brass out loud. “Is it just me or is this looking more like a hate crime by the minute?”
***
TBC
Installment 1
Installment 2
x-posted at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
csi_slash, nickngreg, and my journal
Author: Fabs G (
moodymuse19)Category: Casefile, Angst
Pairing: Nick/Greg with some Grissom /Sara thrown in
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Grave Danger
Disclaimer: Ah, if only. The things I’d do.
Summary: Two girls have been killed, and as the team struggle to find their killer, Greg realizes just how much you can get involved with a case.
A.N.: As it's becoming customary, thanks to
hawkeyecat for her beta!5: The house and more flirting
Warrick and Catherine didn’t have much to with their evidence; without a match in CODIS or a suspect to compare them to, the DNA from the cig stub and the shoeprints were as good as useless.
The only thing they had to work with were the tire treads, which was only a matter of scanning the imprint Warrick had taken from the crime scene, scanning it onto the computer and letting the database find a comparison.
The backpacks the victims had taken hadn’t shed any light on their case except their confirmation that they were definitely going to spend the night out and head back in the morning, because they had just one change of clothes, no tent, nothing to say that they were camping.
The next obvious step, then, was the house the victims had shared.
Nick, Greg, Warrick, Sara and Brass headed out to the girls’ house as Grissom and Catherine tackled a B&E, which looked easy enough to not interrupt the current hot case.
The four of them looked at the small but well kept house in front of them. It was two-stories high, with thin bars on windows and a small front garden kept by someone who obviously didn’t have much of a green thumb.
“Warrick, Sara, help us inside, then you’ll check the perimeter of the house. Include a Peeping Tom check on the windows,” said Nick as he surveyed the front door.
They nodded, but Sara squinted as she smiled. “You’re liking this thing of being the boss way too much.”
Everyone chuckled and, while an officer opened the door to the house, Brass said he would go talk to the neighbors.
As soon as they entered the main room, one thing was clear.
“Book whores?” chuckled Nick. The room they were standing in was a living-dining room with an open-air kitchen- and just about every single surface had at least one book on it. There was probably more than a hundred. Two hundred, even.
“Geeks. Just the way I like them,” mused Greg, looking sideways at Nick and avoiding their customary hungry kiss because the officer, Warrick and Sara were still standing behind them. Nick just chuckled and shook his head, and swore to himself he’d make Greg pay for the sudden tightness of his pants.
The house didn’t seem big on the outside, but it was on the inside. On the first floor alone there was the living-dining room with the open-air kitchen, a bathroom, a guestroom, a small study and the laundry room.
The upstairs floor had two bedrooms, a bigger bathroom, and a larger study.
Searching the house for a clue as to what might have happened to them proved to be a challenge. The girls had been what Greg called ‘Keep-alls’.
“Ke-what?” asked Sara, examining the fridge contents as Greg went through their DVD collection, stashed inside an ornate cupboard.
“Keep-alls. You know, the people that can’t throw anything away? They keep ticket stubs, and restaurant checks, dried flowers and every single note and card they’ve ever received.”
“Oh yeah -everything has sentimental meaning,” she said as she smelled bad cheese, wrinkled her nose and stashed it back.
“I hear ya,” called Nick from the other side of the room, a shoebox full of movie tickets in his hands. “Either they collected them or they really were--” he looked at Greg and smiled “--keep-alls.”
Warrick emerged from the bathroom. “Bathroom hasn’t been used in months.”
“They have one upstairs. Greg and I saw it when we did the walkthrough”
“Ooh, what is this?” called Greg from the drawer in the cupboard he was examining.
And if there ever was a question that draw the attention of CSIs in a crime scene, it was that which Greg had uttered.
Sara, Warrick and Nick went to him as if pulled by a rope. Greg turned around with a stack of mini-tapes held between his hands. “Tapes,” he said simply. He placed them on the coffee table behind him and read the labels.
“Kat, Kat and Darby, February ’04. Darby, Darby, Darby and Darby, January ’04-- and so forth and so on.”
“This look like answering machine tapes,” said Sara.
Warrick held one tape (Kat, Darby, Kat, Kat, June ‘04) in one gloved hand. ”Do they have an answering machine? I just saw the phone”
“I did the kitchen. It’s under their kitchen counter” Sara said, walking to it. She took it, put it on the counter, and saw that there were two messages. She pushed play as everyone looked at her.
The machine’s electronic voice said the date of the message “June 21st, 2005, 8:34 am.”
A cheerful human voice continued. “Hey girls,” said a male voice. “Boss is seething- where are you? You’re already 33 minutes late. Better hurry!”
“June 21st, the day after they died. Sounds like a worried co-worker,” said Sara as the machine whirred itself to the next message.
“June 21st, 7:51 pm,” said the machine. Next came some noises that, to their best guess, sounded like someone with a bad cold, or maybe choking… or laughing.
“I’ll put this on Archie’s top list” said Sara as the message finished. She bagged the tape as everyone returned to what they had been working with.
Warrick and Sara moved up to the second floor while Nick and Greg finished processing the ground floor.
The bedroom Sara and Warrick were processing upstairs was decorated with the most random things—movie posters, a bookshelf with several statuettes in front of the books, a cupboard in one corner, all with a touch of Hindu influence, most noticeable on the king-sized bedspread.
Opening the cupboard, Warrick found several statuettes, unlit candles, and several herbs on a platter decorated with a five-pointed star.
Sara looked at it from over his shoulder “That’s a pagan altar. That’s Diana, a Roman goddess”
“Pagan?” he inquired as Sara moved past him and stroked a figure of a Goddess.
“Yeah, you know-- adoring-Mother-Earth kinda pagans. Probably Wiccan. I saw StarHawk’s The Spiral Dance downstairs. That’s a book,” she said as she moved to a bedside table.
“How is it that you know the most random things?” said Warrick as he photographed the altar.
“Grissom was my mentor,” she smiled widely and Warrick nodded, because that explained everything.
“Does that mean Sanders will be a second Grissom twenty years into the future?” Warrick smirked.
“Don’t think so- Greggo’s got our influence,” she smiled.
Their search didn’t yield much else, except when Sara shone the ALS over the bed sheets and found that there wasn’t a single semen stain-- no sex in a long time.
They worked on the other bedrooms, but both looked identical-- clean, but lifeless and sparse, almost as if no one had slept there in a long time.
Nick and Greg, while they weren’t finding any solid evidence on the who and the why of their deaths, were at least finding out about the girls’ personalities.
Katherine Williams had been a feisty one, judging by a karate uniform found in a closet, while Darby seemed to have been more quiet, judging by her name on most books and the username on the computer.
“Nick, look here,” said Greg from the computer.
“What’d you find?” said Nick, coming closer.
“Well, they belonged to several mailing lists, but I’ll go through it later. What I found, is that the victims were fellow fans of one of my favorite shows, ‘Queer as Folk’,” he said as he waved the DVD box set of Queer as Folk “I also found ‘The L Word’, rainbow flags all over the house... Now I find some story Katherine had written about that series, Forensics? She paired Eric and George. I think one or both our girls wouldn’t have fallen for my gorgeous looks.”
Nick crossed his arms and looked at him amused. “Aren’t you the one who is always trying to educate my homophobe neighbor?”
“He says those things as an insult. I just tease good-naturedly.”
“And for some, there’s no difference. Still, it’s gay or bi, Greg,” he said as he moved back to a bookshelf. “Besides, not everyone falls for your gorgeous looks, Greggo,” and his mind uttered a very simple ‘HA’.
Greg’s face was one of utter self-confidence--as usual. “You did” he grinned, even though the times they had uttered ‘I love you’ hadn’t been that abundant.
If Nick had been drinking, he’d have choked, and if he’d been driving he’d have wrapped his car around the nearest tree. Or the proverbial slamming and screeching of the brakes, if you will. Greg was right of course; he was in love with the guy--but Warrick and Sara were upstairs, and the officer was just outside the main door, and Brass had this creepy way of sneaking up on you when you least needed him to.
Nick looked at the stack of books and thought very well before turning and answering. Texan charm? On. “You know… on the clock and with Warrick and Sara upstairs? Not a good place to talk boyslash. Breakfast after shift? My place?” he asked with an obviously tone, because when you made it a statement it was just co-workers going out, but if you asked it with a slightly quivering voice, like he had, it turned into a whole different thing that sent Nick’s adrenaline rushing from head to toe and made him wish the damn shift would end already.
Greg’s smiled widened as he left the Queer as Folk DVDs besides the computer monitor. “Breakfast after shift,” he confirmed.
6: The door
After processing the top floor, which was smaller than the ground floor, Warrick decided it was best to process the perimeter before another storm came like the one from a few days ago at the crime scene and took Nick, who had finished processing and was just about to go outside himself.
They divided half of the perimeter each, because they realized the storm clouds were looking more ominous than they initially had.
They dusted every window in search of something unusual, and the dusting paid off when Warrick lifted a perfect print of someone’s face on one of the sitting-dining room windows. Nick lifted a face print too, but off the kitchen window.
Nick found a cigarette stub almost buried under the dirt. Although it could be anyone’s, or old, and the dirt and rainwater had probably done their number on it, he wasn’t about to risk it and bagged it.
They found little else of notice. When they met again, by the front door, they noticed something they hadn’t noticed before.
The door, made of a dark brown wood, was in perfect condition except for some markings at about six feet from the floor, done with something sharp, pointed – fingernails, a knife maybe? Warrick and Nick looked at each other and then started taking molds of the scrapings, even though they knew they’d have to take the door with them.
They were almost finished with the hinges of the door, ready to take it out completely, when Sara called from the inside.
“Hey guys?” called Sara from the other side of the door.
“Wait,” called Warrick as he finally unhinged the door, leaving it all to Nick.
“Man, this sucker is heavy! Give me a hand here!” Warrick moved to prevent Nick from being crushed by a--solid oak--door while Sara and Greg waited inside the house.
Brass came back from his interrogation of the neighbors, but stayed silent.
“What’ve you got?” Nick asked Sara once they had leaned the door against the wall, stretching out his aching arms. Greg came forward, took one of Nick’s wrists and pulled until they heard a soft ‘pop’!
Sara extended a piece of cloth she had been holding till now. “Any chance of this being a hate crime?”
What Sara was holding was a flag with six colors: red, orange, yellow, green, and some hues that looked like blue and violet: the gay pride flag. Only this one, in contrast with the colorful ones from the parades, was torn and stained, missing a big chunk. A statement of its own.
Warrick shook his head. “Well, considering how little we know--oh yeah”
It was in that moment that Brass spoke. “Everyone was in a talking mood,” he complained as Sara bagged the torn flag.
“Did they give you good conversation at least?” she asked.
“No, they all said the same- they moved here about a year ago, they were nice girls, they worked at the paper…”
“Basically, everything we know.”
“Not everything. Everyone agreed on something--they had an enemy”
Sara smiled like if Christmas had come early, and Greg looked thoroughly curious.
“Seven different families told me there was never a week without some encounter between either of the victims and a guy called Dominic Warren. Lives just down the street, it’s the only house with no top floor.”
“Did you talk to him?” asked Nick.
“Did I become a detective yesterday?” asked Brass, and Nick raised his hands with a smile, in a typical ‘don’t shoot’ gesture. “I did talk to him, he was kind enough to let me in and offer me a cup of tea--which I didn’t drink--and he told me he was working overtime--alone, sadly--when the murders happened. He said that yes, he didn’t agree with their ‘lifestyle’, and that it forced the three of them to ‘exchange heated words’ every once in a while, but that it never went beyond name calling. Any idea what he meant by ‘lifestyle’?”
“We found some evidence that the girls might have been lesbians, or at least bisexual,” said Nick, looking briefly at Greg.
“Not necessarily,” said Warrick. “Sara and I found a pagan altar upstairs.”
“Pagan?” frowned Nick.
“According to Sara, it’s the ‘adoring mother Earth’ kinda pagans.”
“Maybe they were killed for being both,” said Greg.
“So they were members of a non-mainstream religion and lesbians,” thought Brass out loud. “Is it just me or is this looking more like a hate crime by the minute?”
***
TBC
Installment 1
Installment 2
x-posted at
csi_slash, nickngreg, and my journal
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-07-15 11:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-15 03:52 pm (UTC)Also, am I the only one who sees greg reading slash online?