Hunting Azrael (2/13)
Title: Hunting Azrael (2/13)
Authors: SomewhereApart, faith_obrien
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Characters: Eric/Calleigh
Rating: R
Summary: Mutilated victims. An angel of Death. And a double-dose of CSI romance. Co-written with faith-obrien. Rated R for violence and eventual sexytimes.
Just joining us? Check out: Prologue | Chapter One
Eric was on his way to the autopsy theatre for an update on his vic from that morning when he spied her. Calleigh. Studying something in a folder just outside the interrogation room - prepping herself, no doubt. And somehow looking even better than she had at breakfast, despite the day she’d probably had so far. He’d meant to find her, to talk to her about the new victim. As much as she tried to pretend she wasn’t affected by everything, the serial killers unnerved her. Fascinated her, but unnerved her.
And it looked like she was about to get up close and personal with one - or at the very least with a creep if the suspect in the interrogation room was who Eric had heard it was.
Wolfe came trotting down the hall, headed for the same interrogation, no doubt. “Delko, my man. You’re gonna miss out on all the action in there.”
Eric scowled and shook his head. "Yeah, go ahead. Rub it in. Hey, is that the guy who touched the body?"
Scoffing, Ryan turned to study the suspect through the glass. "Yeah, David Oxley. They found his hair on the vic, so they brought him in for questioning."
"Could be passive,” Eric pointed out. “If he has a decent lawyer -- or a decent brain -- we won't be able to hold him."
"Yeah, we know,” Ryan sighed, “But Calleigh wanted another crack at him. She said he 'had a vibe.' She had H run a background check on him, and it turns out there's more to good old David Oxley than meets the eye."
Wasn’t there always, Eric wondered. Still, he was always up for a good story. "Yeah, like what?"
"Like a brother up in Florida State for stabbing a girl 27 times, and Oxley's name listed as a 'person of interest.'"
Letting out a slow whistle, Eric shook his head. Well that certainly didn’t help Oxley in the least. "And here I thought my dead call girl would be the exciting case of the day."
"Right. Like a dead call girl competes with another vic from our guy,” Ryan very nearly boasted.
"Yeah, yeah,” Eric dismissed ruefully, checking his watch. He was supposed to meet Tara one minute from now, and she hated when he ran late. “Enjoy the glory case. I've got a hooker waiting for me downstairs."
Eric didn’t even realize what he’d said until Ryan smirked at him, then chuckled as he caught Calleigh’s beckoning head-tilt. "Bet that's not the first time you've said that."
“Cute, Wolfe.” And then they were off - Ryan to join Calleigh (lucky bastard), and Eric to deal with a moody ME.
Calleigh slid into the chair across from David Oxley - who had changed in the three hours since she’d last seen him. A co-worker had brought him the change of clothes from his warehouse locker, or so she’d been told. He now sat before her, slouched casually in his chair, smirking at her. She hated the smirkers.
"Miss me, Calleigh?"
"CSI Duquesne,” Calleigh corrected with a cool and tight-lipped smile of bemused irritation. “And sorry, Mr. Oxley --"
"David," he cut in.
"Mr. Oxley, I can't say that I did,” she replied curtly. She’d skipped lunch to let her stomach settle - and it had, until she’d had to sit across from Oxley and get the skeevy eye. Thankfully, Ryan had just settled down into the chair next to her.
Oxley sat back in his chair and studied the pair of them, watched as Ryan twitched a supportive smile in Calleigh's direction. He grinned. "You're the kid with the coffee, right?"
"This is CSI Wolfe," Calleigh corrected, her lips pursed into a tight line. "He's the other officer assigned to this case."
"Wow," Oxley looked impressed. "Somebody's a little overprotective of their coffee gofer. Don't need to get snippy, Calleigh, I was just askin' so I could keep you all straight in my head."
"We'll getcha a list," Ryan promised with a roll of his eyes. "Mr. Oxley," he began, getting down to business, "we found your hair on the victim's body."
"Yeah, I figured," Oxley shrugged. "I already told you I touched her."
"Yes," Calleigh nodded, "you did." She laced her fingers together and rested them on the table in front of her. "I'm sorry, I'm still having trouble understanding why you did that."
Oxley sighed. "Had to be sure it was Claire before I called it in."
"So you're saying you wouldn't have called it in if it had been someone else?" Ryan asked.
Their suspect scoffed. "C'mon, guys. Of course I would've--I just wanted to be sure," he sat back in the chair again with a shake of his head. "This is ridiculous. A guy tries to do the right thing and this is the thanks I get. Maybe I should've started by calling in traffic violations--worked up to murders."
"You made the right choice by calling it in," Ryan assured him. "We're just questioning your actions beforehand."
"Questioning my actions..." he shook his head again. "Somebody killed her--shouldn't you be out there finding whoever did it instead of holding me up with this shit?"
"I assure you, we're following every lead," Calleigh said evenly.
"You really think I did this?" he asked casually, tilting his head to the side.
"I don't know," Calleigh countered, narrowing her eyes. "Did you?"
Oxley's mouth turned up at the side. "That's a clever interrogation tactic you got there, Calleigh."
"It's CSI Duquesne." Her gaze turned to Ryan and shifted down to the folder.
"Uh-oh...I've seen that look before," Oxley said before Ryan could open his mouth.
"What look?" Ryan asked innocently.
"I bet I can guess what's in that file," Oxley motioned to the folder beneath Ryan's drumming fingertips.
"Really?"
"Well, either you've got some kind of evidence that says I did something I didn't..."
"You mean something like murdering Claire Vincent?" Ryan interrupted conversationally.
"Yeah," Oxley nodded with another grin. "Something like that. And since there's no way you could have any evidence regarding Claire -- on account of I’m innocent -- I'm betting it's got something to do with my brother."
Calleigh slid the file away from Ryan and opened it. "Why don't you tell us about your brother?"
"My brother's innocent. But the family of that girl, they don't believe him. Got him in lock up on a bunch on unequivocal evidence just like what you keep calling me in on."
“All due respect, but if the evidence was unequivocal, he wouldn’t be in prison,” Calleigh pointed out. Before Oxley could get a word in edgewise, she questioned, "Why would the family go after you?"
"We lived together at the time she was killed.” His gaze traveled down to her cleavage and Calleigh wished she’d worn a more conservative top. Dark eyes flicked back up to hers a moment later. “They think I was in on it. Been harassing me for years. That's why I moved out to the glades. Get away from all that. Get some peace."
“And how’s that workin’ out for you?” Ryan asked dryly.
“Alright so far, officer,” Oxley replied, not bothering to reign in his scowl. “But if this questioning keeps up, I may have to amend that.”
“Well, if you’re troubled by the attention, Mr. Oxley, you may want to reconsider getting up close and personal with any dead bodies you happen across in the future,” Calleigh advised. “It tends to arouse suspicion.”
“I told you, Calleigh.” She felt the ire rise up her spine, like mercury in a thermometer, and pressed her lips together into a thin frown. If he didn’t stop calling her by her first name, she might pop a vein. “I needed to know it if was Claire.”
“Y’know, you are awfully hung up on this girl,” Calleigh realized, flipping past the papers on his brother to pull up one of Claire Vincent’s autopsy photos. “You sure she didn’t do more than make your coffee?”
“What exactly are you implying, Calleigh?”
“CSI Duquesne,” she corrected pointedly, emphatically. “And I’m not implying anything, Mr. Oxley. I’m simply asking if you and Claire Vincent had more than coffee in common. We know she had a boyfriend, but that doesn’t mean she couldn’t have been seeing you on the side.”
“To tell you the truth, Ms. Duquesne,” She was so surprised to hear him address her somewhat properly that she smiled without thinking. “I had a little bit of a crush on her. But no, we were never involved. Like you said, she had a boyfriend.”
“You never asked her out?”
“I invited her to a concert. That’s how I found out about the boyfriend. No harm done; I’m not interested in breaking up a happy couple. Even for a girl as pretty as Claire.” Calleigh must have made a face, because Oxley shrugged and leaned forward finally, resting his arms on the table. “What can I say? I like brunettes. Although, for you I might just make an exception…”
He reached out for her hand, and Calleigh was just a second too late as she pulled them back out of his reach. His fingers brushed hers, cold and clammy. She had the sudden urge to shower. “Please don’t,” she bit, closing the file and handing it back to Ryan. “I think we’re done here. For now.” She turned to the attending officer, and ordered “Get him out of here,” before pushing away from the table and stalking from the interrogation room.
Valera and Natalia stood about five feet away; they’d been watching the investigation through the glass walls. “Did he just touch you?” Natalia questioned, her gaze following Oxley as he walked in the other direction, toward the exit.
“Yes. He did.” Calleigh caught herself wiping the point of contact against her pants, like she could somehow brush off the feeling of unease that had settled over her. “That guy gives me the creeps.”
“I’ll say.”
“Do you think he did it?” Valera questioned, and Calleigh watched Oxley disappear around the corner before answering quietly.
“Yes.”
“Yuck,” Natalia deduced, and Calleigh wanted nothing more than to agree with her, but…
“The evidence doesn’t support it, though. Not anything concrete, anyway,” she sighed. “So he’s a free man.”
“Well, that’s just great,” Natalia grumbled with a shake of her head. “There’s a serial killer on the loose in Miami, and right now there’s nothing we can do about it.”
“Sure there is,” Valera argued, nodding resolutely. “Drink.”
Calleigh cocked her head and smiled in confusion. “I beg your pardon?”
“There’s a creepy serial killer on the loose in Miami, and we have nothing to hold him on. If you ask me, the best thing we can do right now is lock ourselves in a safe apartment, and drink until the creep factor wears off.”
"A creepy serial killer, huh? As opposed to the uncreepy serial killers we see so often?" Natalia asked with a roll of her eyes.
Calleigh couldn’t help but laugh. Only Valera. “Maxine, you astound me. But there may be something to that theory. What do you say, Natalia? Girls night?”
“I’m in. Who’s hosting?”
“My idea,” Valera reasoned. “My place. And I’ll bring the booze.”
“I’ll bring the food.”
“I’ll bring the Meg Ryan.”
Authors: SomewhereApart, faith_obrien
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Characters: Eric/Calleigh
Rating: R
Summary: Mutilated victims. An angel of Death. And a double-dose of CSI romance. Co-written with faith-obrien. Rated R for violence and eventual sexytimes.
Just joining us? Check out: Prologue | Chapter One
Eric was on his way to the autopsy theatre for an update on his vic from that morning when he spied her. Calleigh. Studying something in a folder just outside the interrogation room - prepping herself, no doubt. And somehow looking even better than she had at breakfast, despite the day she’d probably had so far. He’d meant to find her, to talk to her about the new victim. As much as she tried to pretend she wasn’t affected by everything, the serial killers unnerved her. Fascinated her, but unnerved her.
And it looked like she was about to get up close and personal with one - or at the very least with a creep if the suspect in the interrogation room was who Eric had heard it was.
Wolfe came trotting down the hall, headed for the same interrogation, no doubt. “Delko, my man. You’re gonna miss out on all the action in there.”
Eric scowled and shook his head. "Yeah, go ahead. Rub it in. Hey, is that the guy who touched the body?"
Scoffing, Ryan turned to study the suspect through the glass. "Yeah, David Oxley. They found his hair on the vic, so they brought him in for questioning."
"Could be passive,” Eric pointed out. “If he has a decent lawyer -- or a decent brain -- we won't be able to hold him."
"Yeah, we know,” Ryan sighed, “But Calleigh wanted another crack at him. She said he 'had a vibe.' She had H run a background check on him, and it turns out there's more to good old David Oxley than meets the eye."
Wasn’t there always, Eric wondered. Still, he was always up for a good story. "Yeah, like what?"
"Like a brother up in Florida State for stabbing a girl 27 times, and Oxley's name listed as a 'person of interest.'"
Letting out a slow whistle, Eric shook his head. Well that certainly didn’t help Oxley in the least. "And here I thought my dead call girl would be the exciting case of the day."
"Right. Like a dead call girl competes with another vic from our guy,” Ryan very nearly boasted.
"Yeah, yeah,” Eric dismissed ruefully, checking his watch. He was supposed to meet Tara one minute from now, and she hated when he ran late. “Enjoy the glory case. I've got a hooker waiting for me downstairs."
Eric didn’t even realize what he’d said until Ryan smirked at him, then chuckled as he caught Calleigh’s beckoning head-tilt. "Bet that's not the first time you've said that."
“Cute, Wolfe.” And then they were off - Ryan to join Calleigh (lucky bastard), and Eric to deal with a moody ME.
Calleigh slid into the chair across from David Oxley - who had changed in the three hours since she’d last seen him. A co-worker had brought him the change of clothes from his warehouse locker, or so she’d been told. He now sat before her, slouched casually in his chair, smirking at her. She hated the smirkers.
"Miss me, Calleigh?"
"CSI Duquesne,” Calleigh corrected with a cool and tight-lipped smile of bemused irritation. “And sorry, Mr. Oxley --"
"David," he cut in.
"Mr. Oxley, I can't say that I did,” she replied curtly. She’d skipped lunch to let her stomach settle - and it had, until she’d had to sit across from Oxley and get the skeevy eye. Thankfully, Ryan had just settled down into the chair next to her.
Oxley sat back in his chair and studied the pair of them, watched as Ryan twitched a supportive smile in Calleigh's direction. He grinned. "You're the kid with the coffee, right?"
"This is CSI Wolfe," Calleigh corrected, her lips pursed into a tight line. "He's the other officer assigned to this case."
"Wow," Oxley looked impressed. "Somebody's a little overprotective of their coffee gofer. Don't need to get snippy, Calleigh, I was just askin' so I could keep you all straight in my head."
"We'll getcha a list," Ryan promised with a roll of his eyes. "Mr. Oxley," he began, getting down to business, "we found your hair on the victim's body."
"Yeah, I figured," Oxley shrugged. "I already told you I touched her."
"Yes," Calleigh nodded, "you did." She laced her fingers together and rested them on the table in front of her. "I'm sorry, I'm still having trouble understanding why you did that."
Oxley sighed. "Had to be sure it was Claire before I called it in."
"So you're saying you wouldn't have called it in if it had been someone else?" Ryan asked.
Their suspect scoffed. "C'mon, guys. Of course I would've--I just wanted to be sure," he sat back in the chair again with a shake of his head. "This is ridiculous. A guy tries to do the right thing and this is the thanks I get. Maybe I should've started by calling in traffic violations--worked up to murders."
"You made the right choice by calling it in," Ryan assured him. "We're just questioning your actions beforehand."
"Questioning my actions..." he shook his head again. "Somebody killed her--shouldn't you be out there finding whoever did it instead of holding me up with this shit?"
"I assure you, we're following every lead," Calleigh said evenly.
"You really think I did this?" he asked casually, tilting his head to the side.
"I don't know," Calleigh countered, narrowing her eyes. "Did you?"
Oxley's mouth turned up at the side. "That's a clever interrogation tactic you got there, Calleigh."
"It's CSI Duquesne." Her gaze turned to Ryan and shifted down to the folder.
"Uh-oh...I've seen that look before," Oxley said before Ryan could open his mouth.
"What look?" Ryan asked innocently.
"I bet I can guess what's in that file," Oxley motioned to the folder beneath Ryan's drumming fingertips.
"Really?"
"Well, either you've got some kind of evidence that says I did something I didn't..."
"You mean something like murdering Claire Vincent?" Ryan interrupted conversationally.
"Yeah," Oxley nodded with another grin. "Something like that. And since there's no way you could have any evidence regarding Claire -- on account of I’m innocent -- I'm betting it's got something to do with my brother."
Calleigh slid the file away from Ryan and opened it. "Why don't you tell us about your brother?"
"My brother's innocent. But the family of that girl, they don't believe him. Got him in lock up on a bunch on unequivocal evidence just like what you keep calling me in on."
“All due respect, but if the evidence was unequivocal, he wouldn’t be in prison,” Calleigh pointed out. Before Oxley could get a word in edgewise, she questioned, "Why would the family go after you?"
"We lived together at the time she was killed.” His gaze traveled down to her cleavage and Calleigh wished she’d worn a more conservative top. Dark eyes flicked back up to hers a moment later. “They think I was in on it. Been harassing me for years. That's why I moved out to the glades. Get away from all that. Get some peace."
“And how’s that workin’ out for you?” Ryan asked dryly.
“Alright so far, officer,” Oxley replied, not bothering to reign in his scowl. “But if this questioning keeps up, I may have to amend that.”
“Well, if you’re troubled by the attention, Mr. Oxley, you may want to reconsider getting up close and personal with any dead bodies you happen across in the future,” Calleigh advised. “It tends to arouse suspicion.”
“I told you, Calleigh.” She felt the ire rise up her spine, like mercury in a thermometer, and pressed her lips together into a thin frown. If he didn’t stop calling her by her first name, she might pop a vein. “I needed to know it if was Claire.”
“Y’know, you are awfully hung up on this girl,” Calleigh realized, flipping past the papers on his brother to pull up one of Claire Vincent’s autopsy photos. “You sure she didn’t do more than make your coffee?”
“What exactly are you implying, Calleigh?”
“CSI Duquesne,” she corrected pointedly, emphatically. “And I’m not implying anything, Mr. Oxley. I’m simply asking if you and Claire Vincent had more than coffee in common. We know she had a boyfriend, but that doesn’t mean she couldn’t have been seeing you on the side.”
“To tell you the truth, Ms. Duquesne,” She was so surprised to hear him address her somewhat properly that she smiled without thinking. “I had a little bit of a crush on her. But no, we were never involved. Like you said, she had a boyfriend.”
“You never asked her out?”
“I invited her to a concert. That’s how I found out about the boyfriend. No harm done; I’m not interested in breaking up a happy couple. Even for a girl as pretty as Claire.” Calleigh must have made a face, because Oxley shrugged and leaned forward finally, resting his arms on the table. “What can I say? I like brunettes. Although, for you I might just make an exception…”
He reached out for her hand, and Calleigh was just a second too late as she pulled them back out of his reach. His fingers brushed hers, cold and clammy. She had the sudden urge to shower. “Please don’t,” she bit, closing the file and handing it back to Ryan. “I think we’re done here. For now.” She turned to the attending officer, and ordered “Get him out of here,” before pushing away from the table and stalking from the interrogation room.
Valera and Natalia stood about five feet away; they’d been watching the investigation through the glass walls. “Did he just touch you?” Natalia questioned, her gaze following Oxley as he walked in the other direction, toward the exit.
“Yes. He did.” Calleigh caught herself wiping the point of contact against her pants, like she could somehow brush off the feeling of unease that had settled over her. “That guy gives me the creeps.”
“I’ll say.”
“Do you think he did it?” Valera questioned, and Calleigh watched Oxley disappear around the corner before answering quietly.
“Yes.”
“Yuck,” Natalia deduced, and Calleigh wanted nothing more than to agree with her, but…
“The evidence doesn’t support it, though. Not anything concrete, anyway,” she sighed. “So he’s a free man.”
“Well, that’s just great,” Natalia grumbled with a shake of her head. “There’s a serial killer on the loose in Miami, and right now there’s nothing we can do about it.”
“Sure there is,” Valera argued, nodding resolutely. “Drink.”
Calleigh cocked her head and smiled in confusion. “I beg your pardon?”
“There’s a creepy serial killer on the loose in Miami, and we have nothing to hold him on. If you ask me, the best thing we can do right now is lock ourselves in a safe apartment, and drink until the creep factor wears off.”
"A creepy serial killer, huh? As opposed to the uncreepy serial killers we see so often?" Natalia asked with a roll of her eyes.
Calleigh couldn’t help but laugh. Only Valera. “Maxine, you astound me. But there may be something to that theory. What do you say, Natalia? Girls night?”
“I’m in. Who’s hosting?”
“My idea,” Valera reasoned. “My place. And I’ll bring the booze.”
“I’ll bring the food.”
“I’ll bring the Meg Ryan.”