Who Are You? - Chapter 5 (Buffy/Nick)
Title: Trace
Author: Lisa
Status: 5/100
Chapter List: Broken Swords // Interrogations // The Only One // Ring of Fire // Trace // Not Quite Warren Buffet
Rating: PG
Fandom: BtVS/CSI
Pairing: Buffy/Nick Stokes
Genre: Drama/Angst
Summary: “Man, what is it then? Creature from the Black Lagoon?”
Challenge: Prompt#091: Examine. Written for tth100
Spoilers: NA
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all related characters are copyright of Joss Whedon & Mutant Enemy. No infringement intended. CSI and all related characters are copyright of Anthony E. Zuiker, Jerry Bruckheimer Television & CBS. No infringement intended.
Distribution: Not without permission from myself.
AN: Ava is the English Ninja and I am but her apprentice. Thanks again for looking over this mongrel of a piece! Thanks to Ponder for the revisions.
Stretching tired legs out under the steel kitchen table did little to ease the sore muscles. The case was beginning to wear on Nick, both mentally and physically. It had provided few leads and those he exposed all ended the same, dead. The thought of having to sit Mrs. Carlson down and explain that the case was being closed - unsolved - didn’t sit well with him. His job was to speak for the victim and the concept of the perp getting away went against everything inside of him.
His fingers wrapped around a warm Styrofoam cup full of coffee he’d stolen from Greg’s pot moments earlier. Lifting it up to his lips, Nick took a pull of the rich brown liquid. Greg, the young CSI, had an innate ability to craft the perfect pot of coffee. Greg claimed it had something to do with the beans used, but Nick didn’t much care what process was used. The coffee went smoothly down, lacking in the bitter taste he normally associated with Warrick’s brew.
‘Buzz’ ‘Buzz’
The sound of his police-issued pager interrupted his solitude. Tilting it up with his free hand, he looked down at the familiar number, “Hodges.”
It was typical Hodges timing to send an emergency page during breaks. Along with the lab tech’s superiority complex it seemed he knew exactly when one of the CSI’s were on a break; interrupting appeared to be a cruel habit Hodges took delight in.
With one last pull of coffee, his cup was empty and Nick rose. The back of his legs brushed again the chair, pushing it back and caused the metal legs to scrape along the floor. Wincing at the loud screeching, he continued toward the glass doors. He stopped momentarily, lifted the cup and with a flick of his wrist tossed it in the trash. A wide grin crinkled his eyes as he made a mental note to tell Warrick about the beautiful three-pointer he’d made.
Entering the dimly lit hallway Nick began the journey towards Trace.
The hallway lacked its normal bustle of people, a tell tale sign that the other CSI’s were either out collecting evidence at a scene or locked away trying to decipher what had been collected.
Picking up his speed, anticipation grew. Had Hodges identified the mucus? That could be the break that would allow him to catch the perp and offer some small bit of solace to the Carlson family.
With his mind otherwise occupied he never noticed Sara, the tall lanky brunette CSI, as she rounded the corner. Her head was ducked down, eyes scanning the report in her hands.
Bodies crashed together, almost knocking the female CSI over. Fingers splayed, grabbing onto a pair of strong broad shoulders and without having to look up, Sara knew she’d just had a collision with Nick. Still, she raised her head and met a pair of eyes filled with an odd distance that she didn’t often associate with Nick.
“Where’s the fire, Nick?”
His reaction delayed, Nick finally reached out, placing his hand on Sara’s elbow. “Sorry Sar, and the fire would be in Trace.” Shaking his head he flashed her an apologetic smile and was offered a wide toothy grin in return.
“Case is eating away at me.” Racking his free hand through his short buzz cut he scratched the back of his neck. “Every lead I get ends up a dead end. Like trying to catch Houdini.”
Sara squeezed Nick’s shoulder gently. “We’ve all be there, Nick. You’ll figure it out.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Stepping back he offered a small wave. “I should get to Trace or I’ll never hear the end of it.”
As he rounded the last corner he spotted the familiar dark blue lab tech coat through the glass partition.
Hodges had his arms folded across his chest, looking bored or annoyed, perhaps both. He leaned against the printer, waiting for the final pages of his report to spit out.
“What’d you got for me, Hodges?”
“How nice of you to grace me with your presence, Nick.” Swiping the pages off the printer, Hodges tapped them, loudly, on the top of his desk.
With fatigue and aggravation driving Nick, he didn’t hold back on his reaction to the tech’s attitude. Rolling his dark brown eyes in frustration he folded his arms, larger than those of the tech, over his broad chest. Voice lacking his usual charm, he asked, “Is the mucus human?”
“No.” Slightly deflated, Hodges stood silently waiting for the next question the CSI would ask.
“So, it’s ani…”
“No.” Hodges smirked arrogantly at knowing what Nick’s next question would be. These CSI’s could be so predictable.
“So, it’s not human or animal?” At Hodges slight nod of confirmation Nick shook his head. “Man, what is it then? Creature from the Black Lagoon?”
“Perhaps, I’d need a sample to compare it to.” Pausing a beat, Hodges tilted his head. “You know, there’s no trace of this mucus in any of my databases. This could be a huge scientific discovery I’ve made.” Glancing back at Nick, who was scowling at him, caused the tech to rephrase. “A discovery that we’ve made. Without your keen eyes for details, along with the very hard work of swabbing, I’d never have the chance to study this.”
Not bothering to get into it with Hodges, he grabbed the papers from the tech’s grasp. Turning on his heel he headed back down the hallway.
With a quick glance down he scanned the report, praying there was some small lead that he could utilize.
Nothing.
Trace wasn’t able to find anything on the unknown substance. The mucus could’ve transferred from the perp or from their only witness, Ms. Summers. Hell, it could’ve been something Mr. Carlson had touched and then wiped on his shirt earlier that night. A growl of frustration escaped his lips. There was only one way for him to narrow down the list.
Nick reached down to his belt and pulled his cell phone off its clip. Without thought, his fingers glided over the keypad, punching in a series of numbers.
“Brass, I need the number for Ms. Summers.”
~Fin~
Completed: February 20, 2008
Revised: March 28, 2008
Author: Lisa
Status: 5/100
Chapter List: Broken Swords // Interrogations // The Only One // Ring of Fire // Trace // Not Quite Warren Buffet
Rating: PG
Fandom: BtVS/CSI
Pairing: Buffy/Nick Stokes
Genre: Drama/Angst
Summary: “Man, what is it then? Creature from the Black Lagoon?”
Challenge: Prompt#091: Examine. Written for tth100
Spoilers: NA
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all related characters are copyright of Joss Whedon & Mutant Enemy. No infringement intended. CSI and all related characters are copyright of Anthony E. Zuiker, Jerry Bruckheimer Television & CBS. No infringement intended.
Distribution: Not without permission from myself.
AN: Ava is the English Ninja and I am but her apprentice. Thanks again for looking over this mongrel of a piece! Thanks to Ponder for the revisions.
Stretching tired legs out under the steel kitchen table did little to ease the sore muscles. The case was beginning to wear on Nick, both mentally and physically. It had provided few leads and those he exposed all ended the same, dead. The thought of having to sit Mrs. Carlson down and explain that the case was being closed - unsolved - didn’t sit well with him. His job was to speak for the victim and the concept of the perp getting away went against everything inside of him.
His fingers wrapped around a warm Styrofoam cup full of coffee he’d stolen from Greg’s pot moments earlier. Lifting it up to his lips, Nick took a pull of the rich brown liquid. Greg, the young CSI, had an innate ability to craft the perfect pot of coffee. Greg claimed it had something to do with the beans used, but Nick didn’t much care what process was used. The coffee went smoothly down, lacking in the bitter taste he normally associated with Warrick’s brew.
‘Buzz’ ‘Buzz’
The sound of his police-issued pager interrupted his solitude. Tilting it up with his free hand, he looked down at the familiar number, “Hodges.”
It was typical Hodges timing to send an emergency page during breaks. Along with the lab tech’s superiority complex it seemed he knew exactly when one of the CSI’s were on a break; interrupting appeared to be a cruel habit Hodges took delight in.
With one last pull of coffee, his cup was empty and Nick rose. The back of his legs brushed again the chair, pushing it back and caused the metal legs to scrape along the floor. Wincing at the loud screeching, he continued toward the glass doors. He stopped momentarily, lifted the cup and with a flick of his wrist tossed it in the trash. A wide grin crinkled his eyes as he made a mental note to tell Warrick about the beautiful three-pointer he’d made.
Entering the dimly lit hallway Nick began the journey towards Trace.
The hallway lacked its normal bustle of people, a tell tale sign that the other CSI’s were either out collecting evidence at a scene or locked away trying to decipher what had been collected.
Picking up his speed, anticipation grew. Had Hodges identified the mucus? That could be the break that would allow him to catch the perp and offer some small bit of solace to the Carlson family.
With his mind otherwise occupied he never noticed Sara, the tall lanky brunette CSI, as she rounded the corner. Her head was ducked down, eyes scanning the report in her hands.
Bodies crashed together, almost knocking the female CSI over. Fingers splayed, grabbing onto a pair of strong broad shoulders and without having to look up, Sara knew she’d just had a collision with Nick. Still, she raised her head and met a pair of eyes filled with an odd distance that she didn’t often associate with Nick.
“Where’s the fire, Nick?”
His reaction delayed, Nick finally reached out, placing his hand on Sara’s elbow. “Sorry Sar, and the fire would be in Trace.” Shaking his head he flashed her an apologetic smile and was offered a wide toothy grin in return.
“Case is eating away at me.” Racking his free hand through his short buzz cut he scratched the back of his neck. “Every lead I get ends up a dead end. Like trying to catch Houdini.”
Sara squeezed Nick’s shoulder gently. “We’ve all be there, Nick. You’ll figure it out.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Stepping back he offered a small wave. “I should get to Trace or I’ll never hear the end of it.”
As he rounded the last corner he spotted the familiar dark blue lab tech coat through the glass partition.
Hodges had his arms folded across his chest, looking bored or annoyed, perhaps both. He leaned against the printer, waiting for the final pages of his report to spit out.
“What’d you got for me, Hodges?”
“How nice of you to grace me with your presence, Nick.” Swiping the pages off the printer, Hodges tapped them, loudly, on the top of his desk.
With fatigue and aggravation driving Nick, he didn’t hold back on his reaction to the tech’s attitude. Rolling his dark brown eyes in frustration he folded his arms, larger than those of the tech, over his broad chest. Voice lacking his usual charm, he asked, “Is the mucus human?”
“No.” Slightly deflated, Hodges stood silently waiting for the next question the CSI would ask.
“So, it’s ani…”
“No.” Hodges smirked arrogantly at knowing what Nick’s next question would be. These CSI’s could be so predictable.
“So, it’s not human or animal?” At Hodges slight nod of confirmation Nick shook his head. “Man, what is it then? Creature from the Black Lagoon?”
“Perhaps, I’d need a sample to compare it to.” Pausing a beat, Hodges tilted his head. “You know, there’s no trace of this mucus in any of my databases. This could be a huge scientific discovery I’ve made.” Glancing back at Nick, who was scowling at him, caused the tech to rephrase. “A discovery that we’ve made. Without your keen eyes for details, along with the very hard work of swabbing, I’d never have the chance to study this.”
Not bothering to get into it with Hodges, he grabbed the papers from the tech’s grasp. Turning on his heel he headed back down the hallway.
With a quick glance down he scanned the report, praying there was some small lead that he could utilize.
Nothing.
Trace wasn’t able to find anything on the unknown substance. The mucus could’ve transferred from the perp or from their only witness, Ms. Summers. Hell, it could’ve been something Mr. Carlson had touched and then wiped on his shirt earlier that night. A growl of frustration escaped his lips. There was only one way for him to narrow down the list.
Nick reached down to his belt and pulled his cell phone off its clip. Without thought, his fingers glided over the keypad, punching in a series of numbers.
“Brass, I need the number for Ms. Summers.”
~Fin~
Completed: February 20, 2008
Revised: March 28, 2008