Fic: Soaps R US, Chapter 24 (CSI, Nick / Greg, Ryan / Eric, Flack / Hawkes, Dawson, Speed)
Title: Soaps R Us, Chapter 24
Pairing: Nick Stokes / Greg Sanders,
Ryan Wolfe / Eric Delko,
Don Flack / Sheldon Hawkes
Rating: PG
Genre: AU
Disclaimer: Not mine, etc.
Feedback: Always Welcome
Summery: Daytime soap Lights of Vegas has a new head writer. Life and fiction don’t always mix nicely, and the line between the two can be very narrow.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7
Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 (NC-17)
Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20
Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23
CSI Las Vegas Main List CSI Miami Main List CSI New York Main List
“I only got ten minutes.” Nick guided Speed into the dressing room. “What was so urgent? And why are you eating that?”
“I have a perfectly good explanation.” Speed grinned like a Cheshire cat while grease dribbled down his chin.
“Can I make a guess? You were planning to take a granola bar with you to keep your energy levels up, but forgot it home and you had to take whatever was handy. In this case… a kebab.”
“With extra sauce. And my diet’s over.”
“How much weight did you loose?”
“I didn’t loose any weight.”
“But you’re still going to get naked on stage?”
“Yeah.”
“Which is also the reason you went on a diet in the first place.”
“I made a discovery. Get ready, man, this is deep stuff.”
“You didn’t find kabala, did you? Valera had that phase last year and she wasn’t allowed to eat anything except raw grain and bacon grease.”
“No, I experienced a revelation. I’m seeing that cop for lunch in three hours.”
“What cop? Dawson?”
“Yep. Judging by the way that he was eyeing my back bumper, he didn’t seem to have anything to complain about.”
“A guy asks you out and that overruns that column that drove you up the wall.”
“No, but if my butt is yummy enough to invite a guy who looks like that without even trying, it has to be great. I have reached a whole new level of ass-consciousness.”
“I think I can hear gurus crying….”
“I don’t mean it in the spiritual sense. I mean that if I try to tamper with my obviously ogle-worthy butt, it might loose it’s magic. I can’t take that risk, especially when I got a date.”
“You’re having lunch with him and you’re already eating?”
“This is just a snack, I needed some comfort food after the morning I had. I don’t even know what I was thinking when I agreed to do this thing.”
“You said it would bring you credibility. Legitimate stage and so on.”
“I know, I know…. But this is so embarrassing. I can deal with the louse text, I’ve done that for years, but awful text about my private parts….”
“Well, you read it before you signed to do it!”
“I thought it would be fun! Now the opening nights getting closer and I’m about to panic.” He shoved another piece of kebab into his mouth and stick his tongue out to wipe of the excess sauce. “Just listen to my monologue and tell me your honest opinion.”
“Okay, but be quick.”
Speed pulled a wrinkled script from his coat pocket.
“This is my big monologue: I bow in front of your beauty, you proud column of my manhood. My Empire State building waiting for King Kong, my snow-topped peak of Everest-”
“Can you pause for a sec? I didn’t understand that at all. What are you talking about?”
“My little Hamlet. What do you think it’s about when the play is called Penis Dialogues?”
“Sorry, I spend my morning doing a scene where I found out my father underwent plastic surgery to escape some mobsters after my fifth marriage was declared void due to the fact that my dearly departed wife was alive after all and she had returned as her own twin sister.”
“No apologies needed. After a morning like that, anyone can get confused.”
----------------------------------------------------
Ryan waited till Eric had escorted Dawson to the door and returned to the living room before he tried to get up from the couch. His previous attempt to relocate from the bed to the couch had ended with him laying on the floor with a new bruise on his head.
“Going somewhere?”
“Kitchen, I’m hungry.”
“After all that lovely vomiting you must be.”
“Eric, listen carefully and remember this: It’s kinda adorable when you lay and say that I look cute with my head black and blue and stitched back to one piece again, but have to know when to stop.”
“I was just trying to be supportive.” Eric helped him up and they started the time consuming trip to the kitchen. “That whole vomiting was really gross.”
“Vomiting is always gross, no matter who does it. Even cute little kids don’t look cute when they’re throwing up. I appreciate the effort, but stick to the truth. My head hurts too much believe pretty lies.”
“I can do that.” Eric agreed and placed Ryan in a sturdy chair. “What do you wanna eat?”
“I thought this chair was in the bedroom.”
“I moved it when you were talking to that cop. That’s the only chair I could find that had a backrest and armrests and wasn’t padded, so you shouldn’t be able to fall down too easily.”
“I fell down once, and that was from the bed.”
“And that’s why I’m not taking any risks. Tomato or chicken?”
“Did I miss something?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re talking to a person who’s recovering from a head injury, talk very clearly. What about chicken?”
“You want soup?”
“From a can?”
“You know the limits of my cooking, so that was really an unnecessary question.”
“Yeah, but you can’t expect me the think rationally when my head feels like a battleground.”
“I’ll remember that.” Eric agreed amicably. “And I was gonna order the soup from that place couple blocks from here. They deliver and you can wait in bed.”
“Then what? You’ll spoon-feed me?”
“I could do that.”
“And make a mess. But soup sounds good.” Ryan relaxed against the backrest. “Mind if I take a nap while we’re waiting?”
“Go ahead, but wouldn’t it be more comfortable to sleep in the bed?”
“Yeah, but then I would end up sleeping half a day. This is so uncomfy I’ll have to wake up when the food comes.”
----------------------------------------------------
“This doesn’t make any sense….” Greg leaned over the table to compare the two prints.
“What part of this does make sense?” Don countered and continued rummaging the thick folder. “Robinson snoops peoples business and hides his stuff in storage rooms? Why didn’t he just take these with him?”
“Maybe he wanted to keep copies in a safe place where nobody would look for them.”
“Then that hellhole was exactly the place for that.”
“Why do you think they hide the studio medic to the basement? They don’t want people going there all the tie to whine some sick leave.”
“Sounds accurate.” Don picked up the next sheet of paper. “So why aren’t you going through these in your office?”
“I’m not going back there till they’ve replaced that rug. I can’t do creative work when there’s a blood spot staring at me.”
“Sheldon said they should be done cleaning before midday.”
“Easy for him to say, he has meetings to escape to. I think just he got scared.”
“Of paper?”
“Of those sculls. That woman is beyond creepy. Look at this.”
Don leaned to read over his shoulder.
“That’s a sign-out sheet from the gate.”
“Notice anything weird?”
“Signed out 17:32. And in again in 18:03.”
“And nothing till next morning when she signed in again.”
“Maybe the guard was just lazy.”
“And this…. This is the shift roster from that week. Check the same date.”
“She shouldn’t have even been here.”
“So why was she? According to the incident papers that in-house security did, Holly Gribbs died sometime between six and seven. She was found few minutes past seven.”
“Mr. Sanders?” Detective Dawson peeked his head into the room. “Your assistant said you were here.”
“Come in. We were gonna call you.”
“I’m going to go straight to issue here. The detective walked in. “We need to talk with one of the employees here. Our guys found fingerprints from the lamp that was used to assault Mr. Wolfe. The same prints were also found from the filing cabinet.”
“Mind if I make a stab in the dark?” Greg showed the print into Dawson’s hand and pointed a name. “That one?”
“Yes.” He admitted. “How did you know?”
Chapter 25