Ficlette: Measurement (AB/CSI)
A Gil Grissom and Anita Blake ficlette for the Ficlette Fiasco II. (master list found here)
Measurement
by Mhalachai
Disclaimer: Laurell K. Hamilton owns all things Anita Blake. Jerry Bruckheimer and company own all things CSI. I am but borrowing the characters for a brief time and shall return them intact at the end.
Note: For angelofwar, Anita meets Gil Grissom. Fight! (Okay, not fighting)
~~*~~
Anita sighed, wishing she had thought to bring a watch, so she might check the time. How long was this guy going to take measuring the corpse?
None of this was supposed to happen. Anita and Micah were on a nice weekend get-away in Las Vegas, courtesy of a well-paying client of Anita's, when Zerbrowski called. Hey, how were the casinos, and was she up for some gruesome police work?
So Micah got to enjoy the luxuries of room service in the swank hotel, and Anita was standing around in the dark, in the dirt and grime of a local speedway.
The young dark-haired CSI guy, the one who reminded her a lot of Zane, flashed Anita an apologetic grin. "I'm sure he'll be done soon," the guy said.
Anita flicked her eyes down at the guy's badge. "I'm sure he will... Agent Stokes."
The guy grinned again, ramping it up a notch. Anita resisted the urge to sigh again. "Call me Nick."
"Nick!" the man on the ground called without looking up. "Did we bring any callipers?"
"We always bring callipers, Grissom," Nick said.
"Then get them."
Anita shook her head and picked up the bag at her side. It held all of her zombie-raising stuff, but recently she had taken to carrying her own equipment for crime scenes. Callipers, measuring tape, little bottles of holy water... the guys at RPIT teased her about her taste in necessary crime scene equipment, but when one's stock and trade tended the preternatural, a girl couldn't be too careful.
Digging out her callipers and a bottle of holy water, Anita put her bag on the hood of her rented car and ducked under the police tape. Ignoring the calls of the policemen behind her, she skirted the blood on the ground and knelt beside the CSI technician.
He glanced up at her as she handed him her callipers. "I'm more accustomed to the digital callipers, Agent Blake," he said, taking the instrument.
Anita shrugged. "Nick will get over here with his. I thought you guys wanted my help."
"The detectives wanted your help," Grissom clarified as he measured the bite on the corpse's neck. "I'm not certain that vampires are the cause of death."
"I realize that Las Vegas has the lowest level of vampire-related deaths outside of Portland," Anita said, pulling on her latex gloves, "But as the mob's hold is being loosened on this city, you have to expect some spill-over. What's the bite diameter?"
Grissom told her, and Anita made a note on the clipboard beside the body. Grissom turned the victim's head to measure the bite on the other side of the neck. The head rolled in an unnatural boneless way, and Anita placed her fingers on the corpse's chin to keep his head in place. "The bite diameter is the same. You've heard about the deal the mob struck with the vampires back in the forties?" Grissom asked.
"Of course," Anita said, making another note on the clipboard. She frowned at the paper. "Haven't you been listening to your detectives? That I'm a vampire's lackey?"
Grissom looked at Anita over his glasses. "I don't listen to rumours," he said. "Facts are much more scintillating."
"Oh." Anita traced the paper, then put the clipboard down. "Can I use those?"
Grissom handed Anita the callipers and watched while she measured the bites for herself. "I heard the same thing about the mob pact, actually," he said.
"Secret inside line with the mob?" Anita asked.
"Sinatra biography," Grissom said with a smile, and Anita suddenly realized that he was really handsome. Not in the young way she was used to, with Micah and Nathaniel and Jason, but in an older, distinguished way. The moment she had the thought, she tried to squash it away. No time to deal with the ardeur, not out here in the desert.
One of the detectives walked across the pavement and crouched by the body. "So, Marshal, dazzle us," he said in a neutral tone.
Anita raised an eyebrow. "Fine," she said shortly. "The diameter of the bite marks is exactly the same, which would indicate that the same vampire bit the victim twice." She stood up. "But it didn't happen that way."
The detective stood as well. "Oh?"
Anita gestured around the body. "One vampire cannot drain an entire human. There's not enough blood around the body to indicate that the vamp gorged, then let the human bleed out."
"Is it possible the body was dumped?" Nick said, joining the crowd around the body.
"No," Grissom answered before Anita could speak. "There's blood around the outline of the body."
"I'd check out the bite wounds, see if there's any saliva in them," Anita continued. "I doubt there will be, and that might mean your killer is human. Or at least isn't a vampire."
"Huh." The detective flipped his notebook closed and put it back in his pocket. "Haven't had that one before."
Anita shrugged. "Never discount the good old bait and switch. Is there anything else?"
"No, that's it. Thank you very much for your assistance," the detective said.
Anita felt like saying it was no trouble, but that was almost like a lie. "Just doing my job."
Grissom held up Anita's callipers. "Can I hold on to these for a bit?" he asked. "Just in case they have any residual DNA evidence."
"I'm leaving town in two days," Anita said.
"I should be done with them by then," Grissom replied.
Anita smiled at him, suddenly thinking about how attractive he was again, and headed back to her car.
These out of town trips made her think strange things, Anita reflected. Being polite to out-of-town policemen? Considering the hotness of older men?
She needed some sleep. That would set her straight.
Right.
--fin
Measurement
by Mhalachai
Disclaimer: Laurell K. Hamilton owns all things Anita Blake. Jerry Bruckheimer and company own all things CSI. I am but borrowing the characters for a brief time and shall return them intact at the end.
Note: For angelofwar, Anita meets Gil Grissom. Fight! (Okay, not fighting)
~~*~~
Anita sighed, wishing she had thought to bring a watch, so she might check the time. How long was this guy going to take measuring the corpse?
None of this was supposed to happen. Anita and Micah were on a nice weekend get-away in Las Vegas, courtesy of a well-paying client of Anita's, when Zerbrowski called. Hey, how were the casinos, and was she up for some gruesome police work?
So Micah got to enjoy the luxuries of room service in the swank hotel, and Anita was standing around in the dark, in the dirt and grime of a local speedway.
The young dark-haired CSI guy, the one who reminded her a lot of Zane, flashed Anita an apologetic grin. "I'm sure he'll be done soon," the guy said.
Anita flicked her eyes down at the guy's badge. "I'm sure he will... Agent Stokes."
The guy grinned again, ramping it up a notch. Anita resisted the urge to sigh again. "Call me Nick."
"Nick!" the man on the ground called without looking up. "Did we bring any callipers?"
"We always bring callipers, Grissom," Nick said.
"Then get them."
Anita shook her head and picked up the bag at her side. It held all of her zombie-raising stuff, but recently she had taken to carrying her own equipment for crime scenes. Callipers, measuring tape, little bottles of holy water... the guys at RPIT teased her about her taste in necessary crime scene equipment, but when one's stock and trade tended the preternatural, a girl couldn't be too careful.
Digging out her callipers and a bottle of holy water, Anita put her bag on the hood of her rented car and ducked under the police tape. Ignoring the calls of the policemen behind her, she skirted the blood on the ground and knelt beside the CSI technician.
He glanced up at her as she handed him her callipers. "I'm more accustomed to the digital callipers, Agent Blake," he said, taking the instrument.
Anita shrugged. "Nick will get over here with his. I thought you guys wanted my help."
"The detectives wanted your help," Grissom clarified as he measured the bite on the corpse's neck. "I'm not certain that vampires are the cause of death."
"I realize that Las Vegas has the lowest level of vampire-related deaths outside of Portland," Anita said, pulling on her latex gloves, "But as the mob's hold is being loosened on this city, you have to expect some spill-over. What's the bite diameter?"
Grissom told her, and Anita made a note on the clipboard beside the body. Grissom turned the victim's head to measure the bite on the other side of the neck. The head rolled in an unnatural boneless way, and Anita placed her fingers on the corpse's chin to keep his head in place. "The bite diameter is the same. You've heard about the deal the mob struck with the vampires back in the forties?" Grissom asked.
"Of course," Anita said, making another note on the clipboard. She frowned at the paper. "Haven't you been listening to your detectives? That I'm a vampire's lackey?"
Grissom looked at Anita over his glasses. "I don't listen to rumours," he said. "Facts are much more scintillating."
"Oh." Anita traced the paper, then put the clipboard down. "Can I use those?"
Grissom handed Anita the callipers and watched while she measured the bites for herself. "I heard the same thing about the mob pact, actually," he said.
"Secret inside line with the mob?" Anita asked.
"Sinatra biography," Grissom said with a smile, and Anita suddenly realized that he was really handsome. Not in the young way she was used to, with Micah and Nathaniel and Jason, but in an older, distinguished way. The moment she had the thought, she tried to squash it away. No time to deal with the ardeur, not out here in the desert.
One of the detectives walked across the pavement and crouched by the body. "So, Marshal, dazzle us," he said in a neutral tone.
Anita raised an eyebrow. "Fine," she said shortly. "The diameter of the bite marks is exactly the same, which would indicate that the same vampire bit the victim twice." She stood up. "But it didn't happen that way."
The detective stood as well. "Oh?"
Anita gestured around the body. "One vampire cannot drain an entire human. There's not enough blood around the body to indicate that the vamp gorged, then let the human bleed out."
"Is it possible the body was dumped?" Nick said, joining the crowd around the body.
"No," Grissom answered before Anita could speak. "There's blood around the outline of the body."
"I'd check out the bite wounds, see if there's any saliva in them," Anita continued. "I doubt there will be, and that might mean your killer is human. Or at least isn't a vampire."
"Huh." The detective flipped his notebook closed and put it back in his pocket. "Haven't had that one before."
Anita shrugged. "Never discount the good old bait and switch. Is there anything else?"
"No, that's it. Thank you very much for your assistance," the detective said.
Anita felt like saying it was no trouble, but that was almost like a lie. "Just doing my job."
Grissom held up Anita's callipers. "Can I hold on to these for a bit?" he asked. "Just in case they have any residual DNA evidence."
"I'm leaving town in two days," Anita said.
"I should be done with them by then," Grissom replied.
Anita smiled at him, suddenly thinking about how attractive he was again, and headed back to her car.
These out of town trips made her think strange things, Anita reflected. Being polite to out-of-town policemen? Considering the hotness of older men?
She needed some sleep. That would set her straight.
Right.
--fin