(no subject)
Blame el_em_en_oh_pee for this madness.
Title: The Cause of The Fight
Pairings: CSI!Sara/RENT!Mimi, Grissom/Lady Heather, suggested Nick/Catherine
It was a grim scene off of Lake Mead. A woman, no more than twenty-six, and painfully petite was found by some tourists exploring the nature of Nevada.
Instead of finding a rare spot of unspoiled nature they found a slowly bluing corpse, dressed in leather that made her look like she belonged more in the grim and neon of the Las Vegas Strip and not the idyllic areas around the lake. "It's about time you show up." Police Chief Brass said as Gil Grissom and Sara Sidle of the Las Vegas crime lab hiked their way into the slight depression where the body had been abandoned.
"Traffic was murder." Grissom commented, looking the scene over. "Who found the body?"
"Those two, over there. Went for a hike to get away from the noise of the city and found her." Brass answered, waving over too a stricken older couple being questioned by another detective.
Sara, by this time, was already inspecting the body. "Body dump." She announced. "There's no blood, and she has double lividity. Looks like blunt force trauma." She glanced at Brass. "Did the M.E. pronounce?"
"Still waiting." Brass said. "I was hoping he had bucked procedure and arrived with you."
"Here I am!" David said, appearing over the crest of the hill, and promptly sliding on the damp ground, spraying a few cops with mud.
"Watch it, Daviud!" Grissom yelled. "We don't need you contaminating the scene!" Ignoring the young coroner's quick list of excuses, Grissom bent over to look at the body, careful not to touch it. "Look at those ligature marks." Gil pointed the bruises arund her thin wrists to Sara. "She may have dressed for a night out, but she didn't go gently into this particular one."
"I hate to ruin your poetic observation." Brass said, with an expression that suggested otherwise. "But we have an I.D. on her, she had a violent job. In fact, you won't believe what old friend she worked for."
"Heather." Grissom said with a sigh.
"I told you to get a car." Brass reminded his friend.
"Liver temp is 93.2, but given her surroundings, the ambient temperature, and her advanced state of composition I estimate time of death to be about 36 hours ago, give or take an hour." David said, pulling his liver thermometer from the girl's stomach and cleaning it off, before signalling for a bodybag. "I'll get any trace off of her back at the lab." He told Grissom.
"Sara, call Nick and Catherine. have Nick work the scene with you and Catherine meet me at Lady heather's--She knows where it is." Grissom ordered, brushing the mud from his CSI jacket.
"How am I supposed to get back to the lab?" Sara asked, perturbed. She hated when grissom abandoned her, especially when she had rode to the scene with him.
"Ride with Nick." Grissom answered, walking away.
"Hey!" Sara said, running after him. "How I call Nick, have him meet Cath here and I go with you to this Lady whoever's house?."
"No." Grissom answered, not even blinking.
"It'll save on gas. Nick can ride with Cath here." Sara suggested slyly. "You know how stretched the departmental budget is."
"She has a point, Gil." Brass said, vainly trying to hide a smile.
"Fine. Get in the car." grissom answered, glaring at Brass.
As they drove up to the gorgeous house that housed Lady Heather's Dominion, Sara let out a low whistle. "Is this Lady Heather nobility?" She asked, but Grissom didn't answer. He parked around the back and walked up to the front door, meeting Brass there. Sara trailed after them, surprised by Grissom's, even for him, unusual reticence. She repeated her question quietly to Brass, who chuckled.
"Nobility of the night." He answered, as the stauesque woman opened the ornate double doors.
Lady Heather smiled at the group. "Gil! Captain, so nice to see you again." Lady Heather said, pursing her scarlet lips in a kind of smile. "And you've brought someone new with you as well."
"This isn't a social call, Heather." Grissom answered, as Sara tried very hard to figure out why Grissom was on a first-name basis with this woman.
"No, I had rather thought not." Heather said with a sigh, opening the doors further and allowing them entrance. As the trio entered the entrance hall, Heather looked to a blond woman in the corner. "Nadia, go tell Samantha and Vicki to finish up with their clients--I'll be in my office. And if you see Mimi send her to me." The blond bobbed and quickly set off, her eyes focused on the floor.
Heather led them to her office, with all it's accotrements of the trade. "I suspect this is about Veronica."
"Veronica Smythe, yes." Brass said. "You know, you keep losing girls that are on your payroll. Taht doesn't look good." He opened his pad and took out a pencil. "How did you know we were her about veronica? And how lo9ng has she been working for you?"
Lady Heather sighed. "Veronica didn't come into work today, and neither cdid she call in sick. She came here from new York with a friend, who also works here, about six months ago, from New York. They needed a clean slate, I gave it to them."
"You've added a new inquisition mask, Heather." Grissom noted. "Any reason?"
"I'm so glad you noticed, Gil!" Heather said, beaming at him. "I bough t that at auction about a year ago."
Sara growled.
"Sorry to break up this little tet a tete on morbid antiques." Brass said, glancing sidelong at grissom. "But where is this friend she came with?"
Just then, there was a knock on the door. "That should be her now." Heather said. "Come in." She called.
The door opened and in walked a young latina woman, her long hair pulled back into a ponytai, and dressed in what amounted to a leather bra and leather boy-shorts, with handcuffs hanging from one wrist. "Nadia said you needed to see me?" She asked, glancing around at the group.
"Yes, Mimi, it's about Veronica." Heather answered. "Gil, Captain, Miss Mimi Marquez."
Title: The Cause of The Fight
Pairings: CSI!Sara/RENT!Mimi, Grissom/Lady Heather, suggested Nick/Catherine
It was a grim scene off of Lake Mead. A woman, no more than twenty-six, and painfully petite was found by some tourists exploring the nature of Nevada.
Instead of finding a rare spot of unspoiled nature they found a slowly bluing corpse, dressed in leather that made her look like she belonged more in the grim and neon of the Las Vegas Strip and not the idyllic areas around the lake. "It's about time you show up." Police Chief Brass said as Gil Grissom and Sara Sidle of the Las Vegas crime lab hiked their way into the slight depression where the body had been abandoned.
"Traffic was murder." Grissom commented, looking the scene over. "Who found the body?"
"Those two, over there. Went for a hike to get away from the noise of the city and found her." Brass answered, waving over too a stricken older couple being questioned by another detective.
Sara, by this time, was already inspecting the body. "Body dump." She announced. "There's no blood, and she has double lividity. Looks like blunt force trauma." She glanced at Brass. "Did the M.E. pronounce?"
"Still waiting." Brass said. "I was hoping he had bucked procedure and arrived with you."
"Here I am!" David said, appearing over the crest of the hill, and promptly sliding on the damp ground, spraying a few cops with mud.
"Watch it, Daviud!" Grissom yelled. "We don't need you contaminating the scene!" Ignoring the young coroner's quick list of excuses, Grissom bent over to look at the body, careful not to touch it. "Look at those ligature marks." Gil pointed the bruises arund her thin wrists to Sara. "She may have dressed for a night out, but she didn't go gently into this particular one."
"I hate to ruin your poetic observation." Brass said, with an expression that suggested otherwise. "But we have an I.D. on her, she had a violent job. In fact, you won't believe what old friend she worked for."
"Heather." Grissom said with a sigh.
"I told you to get a car." Brass reminded his friend.
"Liver temp is 93.2, but given her surroundings, the ambient temperature, and her advanced state of composition I estimate time of death to be about 36 hours ago, give or take an hour." David said, pulling his liver thermometer from the girl's stomach and cleaning it off, before signalling for a bodybag. "I'll get any trace off of her back at the lab." He told Grissom.
"Sara, call Nick and Catherine. have Nick work the scene with you and Catherine meet me at Lady heather's--She knows where it is." Grissom ordered, brushing the mud from his CSI jacket.
"How am I supposed to get back to the lab?" Sara asked, perturbed. She hated when grissom abandoned her, especially when she had rode to the scene with him.
"Ride with Nick." Grissom answered, walking away.
"Hey!" Sara said, running after him. "How I call Nick, have him meet Cath here and I go with you to this Lady whoever's house?."
"No." Grissom answered, not even blinking.
"It'll save on gas. Nick can ride with Cath here." Sara suggested slyly. "You know how stretched the departmental budget is."
"She has a point, Gil." Brass said, vainly trying to hide a smile.
"Fine. Get in the car." grissom answered, glaring at Brass.
As they drove up to the gorgeous house that housed Lady Heather's Dominion, Sara let out a low whistle. "Is this Lady Heather nobility?" She asked, but Grissom didn't answer. He parked around the back and walked up to the front door, meeting Brass there. Sara trailed after them, surprised by Grissom's, even for him, unusual reticence. She repeated her question quietly to Brass, who chuckled.
"Nobility of the night." He answered, as the stauesque woman opened the ornate double doors.
Lady Heather smiled at the group. "Gil! Captain, so nice to see you again." Lady Heather said, pursing her scarlet lips in a kind of smile. "And you've brought someone new with you as well."
"This isn't a social call, Heather." Grissom answered, as Sara tried very hard to figure out why Grissom was on a first-name basis with this woman.
"No, I had rather thought not." Heather said with a sigh, opening the doors further and allowing them entrance. As the trio entered the entrance hall, Heather looked to a blond woman in the corner. "Nadia, go tell Samantha and Vicki to finish up with their clients--I'll be in my office. And if you see Mimi send her to me." The blond bobbed and quickly set off, her eyes focused on the floor.
Heather led them to her office, with all it's accotrements of the trade. "I suspect this is about Veronica."
"Veronica Smythe, yes." Brass said. "You know, you keep losing girls that are on your payroll. Taht doesn't look good." He opened his pad and took out a pencil. "How did you know we were her about veronica? And how lo9ng has she been working for you?"
Lady Heather sighed. "Veronica didn't come into work today, and neither cdid she call in sick. She came here from new York with a friend, who also works here, about six months ago, from New York. They needed a clean slate, I gave it to them."
"You've added a new inquisition mask, Heather." Grissom noted. "Any reason?"
"I'm so glad you noticed, Gil!" Heather said, beaming at him. "I bough t that at auction about a year ago."
Sara growled.
"Sorry to break up this little tet a tete on morbid antiques." Brass said, glancing sidelong at grissom. "But where is this friend she came with?"
Just then, there was a knock on the door. "That should be her now." Heather said. "Come in." She called.
The door opened and in walked a young latina woman, her long hair pulled back into a ponytai, and dressed in what amounted to a leather bra and leather boy-shorts, with handcuffs hanging from one wrist. "Nadia said you needed to see me?" She asked, glancing around at the group.
"Yes, Mimi, it's about Veronica." Heather answered. "Gil, Captain, Miss Mimi Marquez."