CSI:NY/Highlander Crossover 1/1
Un-betaed and my first CSI:NY fic, so please be gentle, but all concrit welcome. Episode one of season Five of CSI: New York, called Veritas aired here in the UK recently and inspired this bit of crack.
In the episode (for those who didn’t see it), Mac Taylor is being held hostage by a bank robber, and is left for dead in a vehicle rapidly filling with water. He wakes up, gets out of the car and makes his way to shore. Later in the episode he discovers a bullet in his clothes, and a hole in his shirt, but he is uninjured. They explain it in the episode through physics - the bullet slowed down as it passed through the glass of the car and the elasticity of Mac’s shirt meant that it no longer held enough momentum to pierce his skin. Well, I thought (and I’m sure I’m not the only one) ‘physics, shmysics’. There’s a far more obvious reason….
Disclaimer:None of it’s mine, not one little bit.
In Veritas
Mac sat at his desk, rubbing his temples. He’d had a low grade headache all day, one that no amount of caffeine or painkillers seemed to be able to shift. And now this case had taken a turn for the worse and he’d be pulling an all nighter when what he really needed was to lie in a darkened room.
He sensed that there was someone in the room with him, and he looked up. There was a man stood in the doorway, examining Mac with a look of curiosity. Mac recognised him, and stood up, a welcoming smile on his face.
“Mathew? This is a surprise,” Mac said. And my headache’s finally gone. Perhaps this damn day’s finally turning around, he added to himself. He stepped around the desk and walked forward to greet Mathew McCormick, an old and good friend. “Is this business?” Mac asked. A professional visit from an FBI agent could never be a good thing, especially so late at night.
“Not exactly, Mac,” Mathew replied as he took Mac’s hand and shook it warmly. “I heard about the bank and what happened to you. I needed to come and see for myself.”
A little confused, Mac shut the door, showed Mathew to a seat and then retook his own behind his desk. Mathew looked as though he needed to tell Mac something, so Mac waited patiently. After a moment or two, Mathew sighed and began.
“How much have I told you about Immortals, Mac?” he asked.
The question startled Mac. He hadn’t expected this at all, especially with the mention of the recent bank heist. What did that have to do with Immortals? Mac checked that there was nobody around outside the office before answering.
“That you are born mortal, but if you meet a violent death then you cease aging and become Immortal. Unless somebody takes your head, you could conceivably live forever. And somebody might take your head because of the Game,” Mac answered. He examined his friend’s face as he talked, looking for some clue as to the reason behind the visit, but Mathew had too good a poker face. “But I don’t understand what Immortals have to do with the bank heist. Was one of the robbers Immortal?”
“No.”
“Well, then what? Apart from a couple of the bad guys, nobody met a violent death,” Mac said. Mathew sat there, regarding him quietly. Mac raised an eyebrow as realisation dawned on him. “Me?...I…No, it…no, there must be some mistake,” he stammered. He stood up and began pacing the floor.
“No mistake. That headache you’ve had all day? That was me. Immortals get a feeling when we are around each other. I’ve been following you, waiting for the right moment to tell you.”
Mac shook his head.
“But I wasn’t killed…I was knocked unconscious, but the water hadn’t even filled the car. I couldn’t have drowned.”
“You didn’t. You were shot. Come on Mac, think! I read the report. The bullet was slowed enough by glass and your shirt to stop it from leaving any kind of mark? Do you honestly believe that?”
“Why was there no blood?”
“The cold water stopped you bleeding out, and washed any trace out of your shirt.”
Mac sat down.
“It’s plausible…”
“It’s true. Even if you doubt that evidence, there’s no denying that you’re now Immortal. Cut yourself, prove it to yourself,” Mathew instructed, pulling out a knife and passing it to Mac.
Mac hesitated, but he trusted Mathew. He lifted up his arm and cut himself across the back of his hand, hoping that if Mathew was wrong it would look like a paper cut. He winced as the blade bit his flesh, but the knife was sharp enough not to hurt too much. He placed the blade on the table and waited. He knew from Mathew that it could take a moment or two for healing to begin. Then, he watched in astonishment as the wound began to knit itself back together. After only a few seconds, blood was the only indicator he’d been injured, the flesh whole again. Mac shook his head, still not able to believe what he was seeing. He looked up into the eyes of his friend, the shock clear on his face.
“I’m Immortal?”
In the episode (for those who didn’t see it), Mac Taylor is being held hostage by a bank robber, and is left for dead in a vehicle rapidly filling with water. He wakes up, gets out of the car and makes his way to shore. Later in the episode he discovers a bullet in his clothes, and a hole in his shirt, but he is uninjured. They explain it in the episode through physics - the bullet slowed down as it passed through the glass of the car and the elasticity of Mac’s shirt meant that it no longer held enough momentum to pierce his skin. Well, I thought (and I’m sure I’m not the only one) ‘physics, shmysics’. There’s a far more obvious reason….
Disclaimer:None of it’s mine, not one little bit.
In Veritas
Mac sat at his desk, rubbing his temples. He’d had a low grade headache all day, one that no amount of caffeine or painkillers seemed to be able to shift. And now this case had taken a turn for the worse and he’d be pulling an all nighter when what he really needed was to lie in a darkened room.
He sensed that there was someone in the room with him, and he looked up. There was a man stood in the doorway, examining Mac with a look of curiosity. Mac recognised him, and stood up, a welcoming smile on his face.
“Mathew? This is a surprise,” Mac said. And my headache’s finally gone. Perhaps this damn day’s finally turning around, he added to himself. He stepped around the desk and walked forward to greet Mathew McCormick, an old and good friend. “Is this business?” Mac asked. A professional visit from an FBI agent could never be a good thing, especially so late at night.
“Not exactly, Mac,” Mathew replied as he took Mac’s hand and shook it warmly. “I heard about the bank and what happened to you. I needed to come and see for myself.”
A little confused, Mac shut the door, showed Mathew to a seat and then retook his own behind his desk. Mathew looked as though he needed to tell Mac something, so Mac waited patiently. After a moment or two, Mathew sighed and began.
“How much have I told you about Immortals, Mac?” he asked.
The question startled Mac. He hadn’t expected this at all, especially with the mention of the recent bank heist. What did that have to do with Immortals? Mac checked that there was nobody around outside the office before answering.
“That you are born mortal, but if you meet a violent death then you cease aging and become Immortal. Unless somebody takes your head, you could conceivably live forever. And somebody might take your head because of the Game,” Mac answered. He examined his friend’s face as he talked, looking for some clue as to the reason behind the visit, but Mathew had too good a poker face. “But I don’t understand what Immortals have to do with the bank heist. Was one of the robbers Immortal?”
“No.”
“Well, then what? Apart from a couple of the bad guys, nobody met a violent death,” Mac said. Mathew sat there, regarding him quietly. Mac raised an eyebrow as realisation dawned on him. “Me?...I…No, it…no, there must be some mistake,” he stammered. He stood up and began pacing the floor.
“No mistake. That headache you’ve had all day? That was me. Immortals get a feeling when we are around each other. I’ve been following you, waiting for the right moment to tell you.”
Mac shook his head.
“But I wasn’t killed…I was knocked unconscious, but the water hadn’t even filled the car. I couldn’t have drowned.”
“You didn’t. You were shot. Come on Mac, think! I read the report. The bullet was slowed enough by glass and your shirt to stop it from leaving any kind of mark? Do you honestly believe that?”
“Why was there no blood?”
“The cold water stopped you bleeding out, and washed any trace out of your shirt.”
Mac sat down.
“It’s plausible…”
“It’s true. Even if you doubt that evidence, there’s no denying that you’re now Immortal. Cut yourself, prove it to yourself,” Mathew instructed, pulling out a knife and passing it to Mac.
Mac hesitated, but he trusted Mathew. He lifted up his arm and cut himself across the back of his hand, hoping that if Mathew was wrong it would look like a paper cut. He winced as the blade bit his flesh, but the knife was sharp enough not to hurt too much. He placed the blade on the table and waited. He knew from Mathew that it could take a moment or two for healing to begin. Then, he watched in astonishment as the wound began to knit itself back together. After only a few seconds, blood was the only indicator he’d been injured, the flesh whole again. Mac shook his head, still not able to believe what he was seeing. He looked up into the eyes of his friend, the shock clear on his face.
“I’m Immortal?”