Disclaimer: I do own Ryan, he's about two inches and lives with his brother Greg. I keep them in a cage, and they're surprisingly furry. Unfortunately I own hampsters, CBS and Jerry B. and the writers and stchuff own the real CSI Miami.
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They both knew what they wanted, but neither one said a thing. They worked day in and day out with each other, never realizing that the other reciprocated their feelings. Just like any other case they arrived at the scene separately, Eric just coming from another scene and Ryan coming from the lab. Homicide in the basement, there was one Officer on the scene, but was just waiting for them to come. The house had been cleared and there was a situation somewhere else. Eric waved him off and both men grabbed their kits and headed inside, shirts lifted over their holsters, just in case.
While it was true that patrol was never supposed to leave a CSI alone at the scene, Ryan knew what it was like to be left behind when a situation broke out, no matter what it was. Because if something happened, you knew that maybe you could have helped change that. While it was also true that if something happened to the CSI's at the scene you would feel guilty and would probably receive some kind of disciplinary action, if they gave you permission to go, you couldn't be blamed. Also, Ryan and Eric both had police training and knew how to use their guns.
And Eric knew this too, knew how Ryan would feel about it, knowing that he had previously been on Patrol. But that just about all that Eric knew, except for the things, of course, that happened on the job, but that wasn't his personal life; that was something everyone knew.
"You want basement or to start up by the entrance?" Ryan's voice broke through Eric's thoughts. He blinked for a second before he realized that Ryan had asked him a question.
"I'll start up here, get what I can then come down and help you." Ryan nodded and silently went down the stairs, rather quickly Eric noted.
Ryan pulled out his flashlight and took a quick sweep of the walls looking for a light switch of any kind. He had automatically snapped on a glove while he was waiting for Eric to come out of his reverie. He flipped the switch and made a mental note to make sure that Eric dusted and printed before they left. He walked down the stairs and was a little confused when he got to the bottom of the room.
Where was the blood? Where was the body?
Upstairs, Eric made quick sweep of the kitchen and noticed that nothing seemed out of place, and neither had anything in the living room. Once he was able to assess the situation in the basement he would have a better idea of what he was looking for. He took out some fingerprint powder and dusted and printed the door knob, and was about to do the same for the other door knob when a heavy thumping sound caught his attention coming from the basement. He threw the prints in his kit and turned to head down the stairs.
As he stood up and turned around he found himself looking down the barrel of a familiar looking gun. A standard issue Miami Dade Police weapon; Ryan's standard issue weapon. And it was being held by someone who was obviously not Ryan. It was the fact that he was once again in the line of fire of a gun, but the fact that he had no idea where Ryan was. He should have been more concerned, he had almost lost his life to the bullet, but Ryan could be the next victim if he didn't play this right.
"Down the stairs, now," his attacker spoke quietly, but forcefully. He waved the gun towards the open doorway and Eric slowly nodded and put his hands up and slowly walked down the stairs, his assailant behind him. The man stopped him at the bottom and Eric could only stand there as he took Eric's own gun from his holster, then went back up the stairs, closed the door, and Eric was sure that he heard the lock being turned.
Eric's eyes made a sweep over the floor and they fell across what he was hoping they wouldn't have. Ryan.
