FIC: Isolated Elements, 6/?, PG-13 (for now), Grissom/Giles
Title: Isolated Elements
Author: Tara Keezer
Rating: PG-13 for the time being
Pairing: Gil Grissom/Rupert Giles
Type: Crossover with Buffy: the Vampire Slayer
Summary: The best laid plans of criminalists and watchers sometimes go awry.
Author’s Note/Warnings: At some point in the future, the two of them will be having hot monkey sex. I think. For now, though, snark reigns supreme. This story is set during the summer between S5 and S6 of Buffy and between S1 and S2 of CSI. One last note - the Grissom/Giles icons that will accompany each part were created for me by the delightful wickedfox.
Feedback: Love it, want it, can’t get enough of it.
Disclaimer: As I’m neither Anthony Zuiker nor Joss Whedon, it’s a pretty safe bet that I own neither of the pretty men. If I did, though, if I did...
Part 1 can be found here.
~*~*~
Gil Grissom, scientist and head of the night shift for the Las Vegas Crime Scene Investigation unit, wanted nothing more than for the world to start making sense again. His eyes, ears, nose and feet all told him he wasn’t in the lab any longer, yet he couldn’t believe them, because obviously, such a thing was impossible.
Even more unbelievable was the small matter of Rupert Giles holding a sword to an unknown woman’s throat. Bizarre as it was, Gil suddenly felt far more confident dealing with potential assault with a deadly weapon than with the troublesome question of where he was. Speaking carefully, the way he’d been taught in hostage negotiation seminars, he said, “I think we would all feel more comfortable if you put the sword down.”
Giles shot him an annoyed glance, and Gil had to stop to think about that for a moment. Giles was annoyed by his interruption, not threatened. The man was angry, and his anger was clearly directed at the woman - who was apparently unconcerned by the weapon at her throat.
“Look around, Gil. What do you see?”
“You holding a sword at a woman’s throat,” he said, deliberately misunderstanding the question. Judging by the dirty look both Giles and the woman shot at him, his answer didn’t go over very well.
The woman gave Grissom an unpleasant smile. “He’s not very bright, is he?”
“Ms. Morgan, I’m not in a very good mood at the moment.” Giles pressed the sword against her throat. “I’ve had a very bad year, and -”
“Yes, you have.” The mockery had disappeared entirely from her voice and demeanor. “I would like to extend to you Wolfram and Hart’s deepest sympathy on the loss of your Slayer.”
Gil happened to be looking at Giles when the woman, Ms. Morgan, offered her message of sympathy, and it was probably just as well. Because of it, he was able to move quickly enough to pull Giles’ sword arm away from her before he lunged.
She backed out of immediate range. “I take it you don’t believe the sincerity of our condolences?”
“Why would I?” Giles looked down at Gil’s hand and said, “You can let go of me, now. Much though I’d like to take her head off, I won’t.”
“Really?” Grissom’s one-word response conveyed his sense of disbelief.
“You can trust him.” Ms. Morgan looked a bit like the cat that swallowed the canary.
Grissom looked at her curiously. “Do you?”
“Absolutely.” She lifted one elegantly groomed eyebrow and smiled at both men. “Dr. Giles is as pragmatic as any Watcher that ever lived. He won’t kill the only person who can send the two of you home.”
“Watcher?” Gil frowned and did his level best to ignore that particularly surreal comment about going home. “What’s a Watcher?”
Openly amused, she looked at Giles and said, “I think it’s really sweet that you brought a - close, personal friend - with you, but don’t you think that you and the Council are carrying this secrecy thing a little too far?”
Gil frowned at her. “Mr. Giles and I aren’t lovers. He’s assisting me with an investigation.”
Giles tugged his arm away from Grissom. “Stop trying to avoid my earlier question, Ms. Morgan. I want to know why you brought us here, and then you will return us to Las Vegas *at once&*.”
She sighed in a mockery of her earlier sympathy, saying, “No can do, I’m afraid. When you accepted Wolfram and Hart’s invitation, you agreed to give us three weeks of your life.”
“I didn’t receive an invitation from your firm, and I certainly didn’t accept it,” he said, his voice low and tight.
She pointed at the sword. “The invitation was spelled to the blade. As soon as you touched it, you accepted the terms of our offer.”
Gil backed away slightly at the rage that filled Giles’ face. “I touched it by accident. I hadn’t yet been able to pull up the message.”
“Really?” She frowned. “If I’m not mistaken, you looked at it for a good twelve hours beforehand.”
“I was told the thing was mundane,” Giles said, his voice tight with anger. “If I’d known it was mystical, I would have arrived in Las Vegas better prepared.”
“Oh.” She shrugged, unconcerned over the mix-up. “It still doesn’t matter. You’re here for the next three weeks, while I pitch Wolfram and Hart to you.”
“Three weeks?” Appalled, Gil said, “No. I can’t be out of my lab for three weeks.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. She glanced at the bar then sauntered over to it. “Would either of you like a drink? The bar’s been stocked with some of the best single malt around.”
Giles took up the argument again. “He’s right. Neither of us can be away for three weeks.”
“You won’t be. You’ll return to Las Vegas just a moment after you left,” she said, pulling out a bottle of whisky.
“That’s impossible,” Gil said flatly.
Without looking up from adding ice to a tumbler, she said, “And you know everything there is to know about the world?”
“He’s a scientist, Ms. Morgan. This sort of thing isn’t within his realm of experience.” Giles took a step toward her. “Send him home. He’s not part of this business.”
“I can’t.” At both men’s disbelieving looks, she added calmly, “No, really. I can’t. The agreement was for three weeks, which means you aren’t going anywhere until the time is up.”
For the first time, Gil accepted the fact that he wasn’t in his lab - or even his world, if the color of the sky out the window was any indication - and he asked, “Where are we? How can you possibly keep us here for three weeks, yet return us to the moment we left?”
“Come to think of it, it might not be the moment you left. Since you tagged along, it might be more like a couple of moments later.” She poured herself a double and took a sip, smiling as the whisky went down. “Our caterers really know their stuff.”
Giles spoke softly and deliberately. “Which universe are we in?”
“It doesn’t actually have a name. Wolfram and Hart has hundreds of pocket universes at their disposal,” she said casually. “They’re useful for when we need to conduct negotiations without anyone else knowing about them. And, of course, they’re extremely handy for associates who can’t afford the time to take vacation on Earth but still need to take a break.”
“Why are we here?” Giles continued to speak with extreme care, and Grissom realized that the other man’s anger had only deepened since their arrival.
“I don’t know why you brought Pudgy -”
Giles snorted. “You work for the world’s most evil law firm, and the best you can come up with is a schoolyard taunt?”
Ms. Morgan had the grace to look embarrassed. “It’s been a tough year for me too, and as soon as this little exercise with you is over, I’ll be taking a vacation myself.”
“Fine. Everyone is having a bad year,” Giles said, taking another step toward her. “Tell me what reason your firm could possibly have to spirit me away for three weeks.”
She straightened up from her casual pose against the bar and gave Giles a winning smile. “Wolfram and Hart knows that you’ve had a very difficult year. Between the loss of your Slayer and averting your ninth apocalypse -”
“Sixth,” Giles said.
“Ninth, actually. There were a couple back in the eighties that you directly averted, even though you didn’t know about either of them at the time, and there was one in the early nineties.” She cocked her head slightly. “No matter what the count, though, you’ve proven yourself to be more than capable of handling whatever life and the Powers throw at you.”
Giles frowned deeply. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Wolfram and Hart recognizes and appreciates talent, Dr. Giles.” Ms. Morgan put her drink down and walked out from behind the bar. “Over the next three weeks, I’ll be talking with you about the many benefits you would receive by joining our firm.”
Giles stood there with his mouth open. He knew he looked like an idiot, but for some reason, his jaw refused all commands to raise itself. He wondered absently if he would wear this expression of shock permanently, or if, with proper therapy, his face might one day return to normal. Gil started speaking, and he turned to the man, feeling absurdly grateful that one of them could still communicate.
“You set all this up just to offer him a job?” Giles admired the even tone of Gil’s voice. He would have said so, but at the moment, his own voice was unavailable.
The Morgan woman shrugged - she seemed to do that an awful lot - and smiled carelessly. “What can I say? My boss favors a proactive approach when it comes to recruiting talent.” She looked at Giles. “Are you alright?”
Her question broke his stasis, and Giles was finally able to close his mouth again. After taking a moment to compose his thoughts he said, “Of course. I’m fine. Why shouldn’t I be? I’ve been kidnapped by an evil law firm which wishes to recruit me to its ranks. I’ll have to give up my soul, no doubt, but it’s a small price to pay for immeasurable wealth. What could possibly disturb me under these circumstances?”
“I need to remind you that you haven’t actually been kidnapped. You accepted an invitation to use one of Wolfram and Hart’s vacation spots in exchange for listening to a proposal to employ you,” she said, every inch a lawyer.
“Oh yes! Just like those innumerable ‘free vacation’ brochures I receive in the mail,” Giles said in a chipper tone of voice.
“That come-on has been one of Wolfram and Hart’s most successful projects. You wouldn’t believe how much we make on the royalties.”
Giles said faintly, “Royalties?”
“I didn’t get an invitation,” said Gil, dragging the conversation back to the original point. “And right now, you and your company can be charged with kidnapping a law enforcement agent.”
“You’re so cute and innocent,” she said. “I can see why Dr. Giles is attracted to you.”
Gil shook his head. “I told you - we’re not lovers, we’re colleagues.”
Touching the other man’s arm, Giles said quietly, “I think I should talk with her.”
“She kidnapped us,” said Gil in loud voice. “That’s not something to ‘talk’ about. It can’t be brushed aside like that.”
“Actually, it can.” Lilah Morgan waited until Giles and Gil were looking at her. “We’re in a pocket universe where time runs at a much faster rate than on Earth. When you get back, what are you going to do? Report that a law firm abducted you? What proof will you have?”
“I know your name -”
“Then you should also know that at this very moment, there are quite a few witnesses who will be able to state with absolute certainty that I’m attending a community meeting in Los Angeles regarding a new homeless shelter.” She looked at Gil with something approaching pity. “Face it. You won’t have been gone much longer than it takes to blink. You’ll have no way of proving you were anywhere other than where you were.”
Giles muttered, “Bloody lawyers.”
“I heard that,” she said. “Believe it or not, I happen to agree with you. There’s not a single one of us that can be trusted.” She went back to the bar and retrieved a thick three-ring binder then walked back to Giles. “We have a quite a bit of ground to cover while you’re here. I can see that you need some time and space to adjust to the idea, so I’ll let you take a look through this today, and we can get started in the morning.”
“My God. You’re serious.” Gil shook his head in astonishment. “You kidnapped the man, and you actually expect him to sit and listen to you?”
“Dr. Giles accepted the invitation. It’s hardly my fault he failed to find out the details first.” After a quick look at both of them, she rolled her eyes. “Look, this isn’t a bad deal. You get three weeks off without having to come back to a desk full of paperwork. The kitchen is stocked with every snack food known to man and demon, and just through those French doors is a beach of pure white sand and a warm ocean to play in. Best of all? No UV radiation, so you don’t have to worry about tell-tale tan lines alerting your friends to your little trip away from reality.”
Much of his composure had been restored during Ms. Morgan’s speech, and Giles asked, “Since you mention reality, what on Earth makes you think this ploy of yours will work?”
She smiled at him. “I have a better question. What makes you think it won’t?”
Giles raised his eyebrows. “Perhaps the fact that Wolfram and Hart is an evil law firm, and I work for the other side? Please tell me at least some of this is ringing a bell for you.”
“You’d be surprised how often we’re on the same side,” she said. “Wolfram and Hart disapproves strongly of any apocalypse it didn’t start, so when it comes to battles of that sort, the firm tends to do what it can to support the Champions in question.”
“Be serious!”
“I’m very serious. An unscheduled apocalypse is bad for business.” She smiled then, with a hint of real amusement. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Dr. Giles, you’ll find that the wardrobe has been stocked with clothing in your size. Mr. -?”
“Grissom. Gil Grissom,” he said with a certain amount of bite in his voice.
“Ah yes. Las Vegas Criminalistics. I should have known.” She pulled a cell phone from her pocket as she moved to a door near the bar. “Mr. Grissom, you’ll have clothing to call your own later on this afternoon. Now if you gentlemen will excuse me -”
Surprised, Giles cried out, “No!” launching himself after her as she opened the door and stepped through before he could reach her. When he tried to turn the door knob, it refused to budge.
Part 7
Author: Tara Keezer
Rating: PG-13 for the time being
Pairing: Gil Grissom/Rupert Giles
Type: Crossover with Buffy: the Vampire Slayer
Summary: The best laid plans of criminalists and watchers sometimes go awry.
Author’s Note/Warnings: At some point in the future, the two of them will be having hot monkey sex. I think. For now, though, snark reigns supreme. This story is set during the summer between S5 and S6 of Buffy and between S1 and S2 of CSI. One last note - the Grissom/Giles icons that will accompany each part were created for me by the delightful wickedfox.
Feedback: Love it, want it, can’t get enough of it.
Disclaimer: As I’m neither Anthony Zuiker nor Joss Whedon, it’s a pretty safe bet that I own neither of the pretty men. If I did, though, if I did...
Part 1 can be found here.
~*~*~
Gil Grissom, scientist and head of the night shift for the Las Vegas Crime Scene Investigation unit, wanted nothing more than for the world to start making sense again. His eyes, ears, nose and feet all told him he wasn’t in the lab any longer, yet he couldn’t believe them, because obviously, such a thing was impossible.
Even more unbelievable was the small matter of Rupert Giles holding a sword to an unknown woman’s throat. Bizarre as it was, Gil suddenly felt far more confident dealing with potential assault with a deadly weapon than with the troublesome question of where he was. Speaking carefully, the way he’d been taught in hostage negotiation seminars, he said, “I think we would all feel more comfortable if you put the sword down.”
Giles shot him an annoyed glance, and Gil had to stop to think about that for a moment. Giles was annoyed by his interruption, not threatened. The man was angry, and his anger was clearly directed at the woman - who was apparently unconcerned by the weapon at her throat.
“Look around, Gil. What do you see?”
“You holding a sword at a woman’s throat,” he said, deliberately misunderstanding the question. Judging by the dirty look both Giles and the woman shot at him, his answer didn’t go over very well.
The woman gave Grissom an unpleasant smile. “He’s not very bright, is he?”
“Ms. Morgan, I’m not in a very good mood at the moment.” Giles pressed the sword against her throat. “I’ve had a very bad year, and -”
“Yes, you have.” The mockery had disappeared entirely from her voice and demeanor. “I would like to extend to you Wolfram and Hart’s deepest sympathy on the loss of your Slayer.”
Gil happened to be looking at Giles when the woman, Ms. Morgan, offered her message of sympathy, and it was probably just as well. Because of it, he was able to move quickly enough to pull Giles’ sword arm away from her before he lunged.
She backed out of immediate range. “I take it you don’t believe the sincerity of our condolences?”
“Why would I?” Giles looked down at Gil’s hand and said, “You can let go of me, now. Much though I’d like to take her head off, I won’t.”
“Really?” Grissom’s one-word response conveyed his sense of disbelief.
“You can trust him.” Ms. Morgan looked a bit like the cat that swallowed the canary.
Grissom looked at her curiously. “Do you?”
“Absolutely.” She lifted one elegantly groomed eyebrow and smiled at both men. “Dr. Giles is as pragmatic as any Watcher that ever lived. He won’t kill the only person who can send the two of you home.”
“Watcher?” Gil frowned and did his level best to ignore that particularly surreal comment about going home. “What’s a Watcher?”
Openly amused, she looked at Giles and said, “I think it’s really sweet that you brought a - close, personal friend - with you, but don’t you think that you and the Council are carrying this secrecy thing a little too far?”
Gil frowned at her. “Mr. Giles and I aren’t lovers. He’s assisting me with an investigation.”
Giles tugged his arm away from Grissom. “Stop trying to avoid my earlier question, Ms. Morgan. I want to know why you brought us here, and then you will return us to Las Vegas *at once&*.”
She sighed in a mockery of her earlier sympathy, saying, “No can do, I’m afraid. When you accepted Wolfram and Hart’s invitation, you agreed to give us three weeks of your life.”
“I didn’t receive an invitation from your firm, and I certainly didn’t accept it,” he said, his voice low and tight.
She pointed at the sword. “The invitation was spelled to the blade. As soon as you touched it, you accepted the terms of our offer.”
Gil backed away slightly at the rage that filled Giles’ face. “I touched it by accident. I hadn’t yet been able to pull up the message.”
“Really?” She frowned. “If I’m not mistaken, you looked at it for a good twelve hours beforehand.”
“I was told the thing was mundane,” Giles said, his voice tight with anger. “If I’d known it was mystical, I would have arrived in Las Vegas better prepared.”
“Oh.” She shrugged, unconcerned over the mix-up. “It still doesn’t matter. You’re here for the next three weeks, while I pitch Wolfram and Hart to you.”
“Three weeks?” Appalled, Gil said, “No. I can’t be out of my lab for three weeks.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. She glanced at the bar then sauntered over to it. “Would either of you like a drink? The bar’s been stocked with some of the best single malt around.”
Giles took up the argument again. “He’s right. Neither of us can be away for three weeks.”
“You won’t be. You’ll return to Las Vegas just a moment after you left,” she said, pulling out a bottle of whisky.
“That’s impossible,” Gil said flatly.
Without looking up from adding ice to a tumbler, she said, “And you know everything there is to know about the world?”
“He’s a scientist, Ms. Morgan. This sort of thing isn’t within his realm of experience.” Giles took a step toward her. “Send him home. He’s not part of this business.”
“I can’t.” At both men’s disbelieving looks, she added calmly, “No, really. I can’t. The agreement was for three weeks, which means you aren’t going anywhere until the time is up.”
For the first time, Gil accepted the fact that he wasn’t in his lab - or even his world, if the color of the sky out the window was any indication - and he asked, “Where are we? How can you possibly keep us here for three weeks, yet return us to the moment we left?”
“Come to think of it, it might not be the moment you left. Since you tagged along, it might be more like a couple of moments later.” She poured herself a double and took a sip, smiling as the whisky went down. “Our caterers really know their stuff.”
Giles spoke softly and deliberately. “Which universe are we in?”
“It doesn’t actually have a name. Wolfram and Hart has hundreds of pocket universes at their disposal,” she said casually. “They’re useful for when we need to conduct negotiations without anyone else knowing about them. And, of course, they’re extremely handy for associates who can’t afford the time to take vacation on Earth but still need to take a break.”
“Why are we here?” Giles continued to speak with extreme care, and Grissom realized that the other man’s anger had only deepened since their arrival.
“I don’t know why you brought Pudgy -”
Giles snorted. “You work for the world’s most evil law firm, and the best you can come up with is a schoolyard taunt?”
Ms. Morgan had the grace to look embarrassed. “It’s been a tough year for me too, and as soon as this little exercise with you is over, I’ll be taking a vacation myself.”
“Fine. Everyone is having a bad year,” Giles said, taking another step toward her. “Tell me what reason your firm could possibly have to spirit me away for three weeks.”
She straightened up from her casual pose against the bar and gave Giles a winning smile. “Wolfram and Hart knows that you’ve had a very difficult year. Between the loss of your Slayer and averting your ninth apocalypse -”
“Sixth,” Giles said.
“Ninth, actually. There were a couple back in the eighties that you directly averted, even though you didn’t know about either of them at the time, and there was one in the early nineties.” She cocked her head slightly. “No matter what the count, though, you’ve proven yourself to be more than capable of handling whatever life and the Powers throw at you.”
Giles frowned deeply. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Wolfram and Hart recognizes and appreciates talent, Dr. Giles.” Ms. Morgan put her drink down and walked out from behind the bar. “Over the next three weeks, I’ll be talking with you about the many benefits you would receive by joining our firm.”
Giles stood there with his mouth open. He knew he looked like an idiot, but for some reason, his jaw refused all commands to raise itself. He wondered absently if he would wear this expression of shock permanently, or if, with proper therapy, his face might one day return to normal. Gil started speaking, and he turned to the man, feeling absurdly grateful that one of them could still communicate.
“You set all this up just to offer him a job?” Giles admired the even tone of Gil’s voice. He would have said so, but at the moment, his own voice was unavailable.
The Morgan woman shrugged - she seemed to do that an awful lot - and smiled carelessly. “What can I say? My boss favors a proactive approach when it comes to recruiting talent.” She looked at Giles. “Are you alright?”
Her question broke his stasis, and Giles was finally able to close his mouth again. After taking a moment to compose his thoughts he said, “Of course. I’m fine. Why shouldn’t I be? I’ve been kidnapped by an evil law firm which wishes to recruit me to its ranks. I’ll have to give up my soul, no doubt, but it’s a small price to pay for immeasurable wealth. What could possibly disturb me under these circumstances?”
“I need to remind you that you haven’t actually been kidnapped. You accepted an invitation to use one of Wolfram and Hart’s vacation spots in exchange for listening to a proposal to employ you,” she said, every inch a lawyer.
“Oh yes! Just like those innumerable ‘free vacation’ brochures I receive in the mail,” Giles said in a chipper tone of voice.
“That come-on has been one of Wolfram and Hart’s most successful projects. You wouldn’t believe how much we make on the royalties.”
Giles said faintly, “Royalties?”
“I didn’t get an invitation,” said Gil, dragging the conversation back to the original point. “And right now, you and your company can be charged with kidnapping a law enforcement agent.”
“You’re so cute and innocent,” she said. “I can see why Dr. Giles is attracted to you.”
Gil shook his head. “I told you - we’re not lovers, we’re colleagues.”
Touching the other man’s arm, Giles said quietly, “I think I should talk with her.”
“She kidnapped us,” said Gil in loud voice. “That’s not something to ‘talk’ about. It can’t be brushed aside like that.”
“Actually, it can.” Lilah Morgan waited until Giles and Gil were looking at her. “We’re in a pocket universe where time runs at a much faster rate than on Earth. When you get back, what are you going to do? Report that a law firm abducted you? What proof will you have?”
“I know your name -”
“Then you should also know that at this very moment, there are quite a few witnesses who will be able to state with absolute certainty that I’m attending a community meeting in Los Angeles regarding a new homeless shelter.” She looked at Gil with something approaching pity. “Face it. You won’t have been gone much longer than it takes to blink. You’ll have no way of proving you were anywhere other than where you were.”
Giles muttered, “Bloody lawyers.”
“I heard that,” she said. “Believe it or not, I happen to agree with you. There’s not a single one of us that can be trusted.” She went back to the bar and retrieved a thick three-ring binder then walked back to Giles. “We have a quite a bit of ground to cover while you’re here. I can see that you need some time and space to adjust to the idea, so I’ll let you take a look through this today, and we can get started in the morning.”
“My God. You’re serious.” Gil shook his head in astonishment. “You kidnapped the man, and you actually expect him to sit and listen to you?”
“Dr. Giles accepted the invitation. It’s hardly my fault he failed to find out the details first.” After a quick look at both of them, she rolled her eyes. “Look, this isn’t a bad deal. You get three weeks off without having to come back to a desk full of paperwork. The kitchen is stocked with every snack food known to man and demon, and just through those French doors is a beach of pure white sand and a warm ocean to play in. Best of all? No UV radiation, so you don’t have to worry about tell-tale tan lines alerting your friends to your little trip away from reality.”
Much of his composure had been restored during Ms. Morgan’s speech, and Giles asked, “Since you mention reality, what on Earth makes you think this ploy of yours will work?”
She smiled at him. “I have a better question. What makes you think it won’t?”
Giles raised his eyebrows. “Perhaps the fact that Wolfram and Hart is an evil law firm, and I work for the other side? Please tell me at least some of this is ringing a bell for you.”
“You’d be surprised how often we’re on the same side,” she said. “Wolfram and Hart disapproves strongly of any apocalypse it didn’t start, so when it comes to battles of that sort, the firm tends to do what it can to support the Champions in question.”
“Be serious!”
“I’m very serious. An unscheduled apocalypse is bad for business.” She smiled then, with a hint of real amusement. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Dr. Giles, you’ll find that the wardrobe has been stocked with clothing in your size. Mr. -?”
“Grissom. Gil Grissom,” he said with a certain amount of bite in his voice.
“Ah yes. Las Vegas Criminalistics. I should have known.” She pulled a cell phone from her pocket as she moved to a door near the bar. “Mr. Grissom, you’ll have clothing to call your own later on this afternoon. Now if you gentlemen will excuse me -”
Surprised, Giles cried out, “No!” launching himself after her as she opened the door and stepped through before he could reach her. When he tried to turn the door knob, it refused to budge.
Part 7