Disclaimer: I do not own any of CSI Miami's characters or intellectual properties. I own only my OC and any characters you don't recognize.
A/N. This is a reposting of my Ryan/Emmie series. I am flattered that some readers have asked me to bring it back. This time around it will have some minor changes. Contains minor spoilers for "Bang Bang You're Debt" and "Shattered". Since this is a repost, reviews are appreciated but not necessary. Again, I thank you, and here it is, back by popular demand, chapter by chapter.
Chapter 1—A Bad Air Day
"And you're on in three. Two. One."
At the prompting from their headphones, the two gentlemen sat intently at the cloth-covered table under the dark blue awning at South Point Park, keeping one eye on the signal lights in front of them and another eye on their audience seated on the grass. The huge white van was parked behind them with the program director watching them like a hawk through the glass, making sure everything timed perfectly.
As the green light came to life on the black soundboard, both gentlemen straightened up and leaned toward their microphones on cue.
"And we're back on WION News Talk, the Voice of Miami. You're listening to Bo and Beckwith, the Poke in the Eye Guys. Remember, our elected officials are just begging for a poke in the eyes, and it would be RUDE TO REFUSE! Today we're broadcasting to you NATIONWIDE today, live here in Miami, Florida, where the only way you can tell it's wintertime is because the rain is cooler." The man looked up and smiled in time to see a chuckle from the audience spread out on the lawn.
His partner turned to him and gave him a dry look. "Stop it!"
The man smiled at him. Part of his job was to annoy his partner, and this was the response he had hoped for. "Okay. Here in Miami, credible sources say that a top-ranking official in the Miami-Dade Police Department is in danger of losing his job because of his membership in the Adult Diapers Club." He glanced at the page briefly. "Supervisor Scott O'Shay, who is supervisor over the Miami-Dade Crime Lab, has belonged to a group of adults here in Miami who go to parties and restaurants wearing adult diapers under their clothes, but not for medical reasons, or they have private parties and wear adult-size diapers and baby clothes. Not only that, but they've been known to drink from baby bottles and sippy cups. But now word has gotten out, and the local citizenry are up in arms. The Miami-Dade Police Department is being flooded with calls demanding that Supervisor O'Shay be fired." The man paused. "Yeah, okay, we know politicians are just big babies, but give us a break here! Our tax dollars at work, Miami. We're so proud."
More laughter from the lawn.
"But hey, what's that about a diaper being like a boss? Always on your butt and full of crap?"
"I don't even want a visual of that."
The man smiled as he looked down at his mike again. "Now can you imagine that? Wake up one day and find out that the top-ranking police officer in your town dresses up in adult diapers and baby clothes and runs around with other adults who do the same. Not just diapers, but the whole shebang. Adult-sized baby bottles, sippy cups." He cocked his head." You know, if I were Scott O'Shay, this whole diaper business isn't I'd want to, uh, leak out!"
His partner nodded with a slight grin. "Yeah. Somebody might pin that on you, right?"
Both gentlemen smiled when they heard guffaws and boos from the lawn.
"But hey, here in Miami all our politicians whine, cry, and make a mess anyway…."
"Now come on, Bo! If Scott O'Shay can still do his job, then shouldn't this be a private matter? Should a grown man who runs around in baby clothes and drinks his Scotch and soda from a sippy cup be allowed to make major decisions for the Miami-Dade Police Department? Let's hear your opinion. The nationwide call-in number is 1-800-555-WION."
His partner turned to him. "Well maybe it is personal, but if you hire someone who does this, personal or not, wouldn't you worry about how it might spill over into your public life? After all, Supervisor O'Shay is a leader in the community. And the motto is 'Serve and protect', right?" I mean, how's old Scott gonna fit that nine millimeter into his diaper bag?"
More laughter from the audience on the lawn.
His partner glared at him. "Bo, it's not like this guy walks into the crime lab dressed like that."
"How do you know? You check his pants?"
"Bo, this is something the guy does on his personal time! His personal time! Why's that scare you?"
Suddenly the man straightened up and started to quake. His brown eyes glazed over and became vacant. His jaw quivered. He slowly leaned forward and collapsed on the table where he lay motionless.
His partner looked down at him for a second. "Well, I guess you think this is boring." Unfazed by his partner's actions, he turned back toward the audience. "While Bo takes another nap, let's go to a commercial break. Our nationwide number is 1-800-555-WION."
But something was wrong. The green light was still on, indicating that he and his partner were still on the air. He quickly clicked off his mike and looked at his partner, who was still slumped forward with his head sideways on the table, eyes closed. He reached over and nudged him on the shoulder.
"Hey, you okay, man?"
Horatio stood in the waning afternoon sun, hands on hips, scanning the scene. The body still lay slumped over the table, which was now cordoned off by yellow tape. Alexx kneeled by the lifeless talk show host and raised his head carefully."
"What does it look like, Alexx?" he wanted to know.
"I'm gonna have to get this one back to the lab to really find out what happened. No signs of foul play or gunshot wounds anywhere." She looked at his sleeping face. "You weren't just taking a nap, were you Sweetie?"
Horatio looked on. "And nobody in the audience heard anything suspicious. Let's see whether I can find out anything from Bo's partner." He strode over to the back of the white satellite van where John Beckwith sat in a chair, clearly shaken.
"Mr. Beckwith, Lieutenant Horatio Caine with the Miami-Dade Crime Lab. Sorry about your partner."
John Beckwith, a middle-aged man with a blonde receding hairline, slowly rose and shook his hand. "Thanks for all you do, Lieutenant. We appreciate you."
Horatio never changed his expression. "Bo and Beckwith. The Poke in the Eye Guys. Never listened to your show. How is it that Mr. Bohannon keels over and you just keep talking?"
John looked at Horatio's feet. "That's the thing, Lieutenant. Derrick was known for doing crazy things like that, so when he just slumped over, everybody thought it was part of the act, including me. Even I had no reason to think anything was wrong. I just thought he was being Derrick Bohannon. I mean, this guy also does local theatre, One time he came to the studio dressed as a genie. Then another time he brought in a CD of rude sound effects and we talked about farting and whether—
Horatio quickly put his hand up. "I get it, Mr. Beckwith. So you were on the air, and all of a sudden Mr. Bohannon just collapsed?"
"Yeah. Sometimes when we have a subject we disagree on he'll do something theatrical. He just sort of looked forward for a second." The man breathed deeply and gathered his thoughts. "Come to think of it, it almost looked like he might have been choking or something had a hold of him. He couldn't have been choking, because we're not allowed to eat or drink on the air. His eyes went wide, and he sort of shook a little bit. But the guy is—was—a good actor." He shook his head at having to remember that his partner had only been gone for an hour or so now. "I had no reason to believe that anything was out of place."
Horatio dipped his head and listened intently. "Thanks Mr. Beckwith. I'll be in touch." With that he walked back toward Alexx, taking off his sunglasses. "Find anything yet, Alexx?"
Alexx picked up the man's left hand. "I think I have an idea now, Horatio. Burn marks on his fingers. It almost looks like he might have been electrocuted or touched something hot. I'll have to get him back to the lab to see just what happened."
The Lieutenant donned his sunglasses and looked at the sky. "I guess talk wasn't so cheap for Mr. Bohannon."