A/N: Hey guys! I've been working on this one for quite awhile, and I'm pretty excited to get it up and running. I put a lot of thought into the story, so hopefully it gets good feedback. :) Kylie Rossi is indeed Kylie Flack. This is a crossover story! The words in Iatalian, I will translate at the end. This is Rated M for cursing, and later sexual content. (Later as in 2nd chap) :) I like to picture a dirty Ryan.
Title: Dead Beauty (Morta Bella)
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI:NY, nor Miami. I'm just borrowing the characters. Nik Nak17 allowed me to take Niki Foxx and use her!! Check out her stories, Grazie!!
Piacere!! (Enjoy)
Kylie Rossi opened the door to the back of the coffee shop, her hands full of dirty dishes that hadn't made it in the dish washer the night before. Opening time was in twenty minutes, and she was the only one who had shown up at work on time. She headed into a small room with a sink and plopped the dishes in it, brushing her dark hair from her baby blue eyes.
"Stupid lazy shit people. Don't know how to close the damned shop," she mumbled, filling the sink with hot soapy water. There was no way the coffee shop would be ready for business in twenty minutes. She let out a frustrated breath. "Damn fucking Italians," she continued to rant, scrubbing a glass cup so hard, it broke and fell into the sink. "Great. Three fucking 50 coming out of my paycheck this week."
A loud bang caused her to drop another dish, and turn towards the door that led to the shop. She hurried towards it, and pushed it open, her eyes scanning for anything to indicate a robbery. The cash drawer was still closed.
She heard a tiny moan, and looked over the counter to see a man covered in blood clutching his chest. "Holy Fuck!" she shouted, jumping back, and grabbing her cell phone to call 911.
She knew that the moment a murder went down in the shop, she'd be fucked. That the police would come, ask for a DNA sample to exclude her prints and shit, and they'd see they matched to a New York cop named Kylie Flack, not a waitress in a coffee shop by the name of Kylie Rossi. The undercover op. she was working on against one of Miami's highest and most known drug dealers would be blown if her DNA went into the system and they matched it back to a dead cop. She needed to come up with a plan. And quick.
She had decided that being feisty might land her in cuffs, which could mean a better chance of keeping her secret in the dark, and she decided to take the risk when she saw two attractive men, and one attractive woman head towards her as they climbed under the crime scene tape and into the coffee shop. She could make one of them hot and bothered, she knew that much.
But first, she'd play dumb. Her boss had already told her if the cops ever questioned her, she needed to play it off as an Italian woman who couldn't speak much English. And she had mastered the perfect Italian accent to go with her lies.
"Hi, we're with the Miami Dade Crime lab. I'm CSI Duquesne and these are my colleagues CSI Delko, and CSI Wolfe," Calleigh Duquesne gave the dark haired girl a smile.
Kylie Flack, AKA Kylie Rossi gave the woman a confused look and shook her head. "Mi scusi?" she said. "No. Italiano. Ingles bad, miss."
"Cut the crap, miss Rossi," Calleigh rolled her eyes. "We know you were speaking English to the first at scene."
Kylie let out a loud dramatic sigh and rolled her eyes. "Alright, so I saw a dude and he was dead. I didn't touch him though. I aint that stupid. Contaminates something don't it?" She ignored the three standing around her, and grabbed the cup from the table, causing Ryan to grab her wrist.
"That's evidence put it back."
"It is not," Kylie rolled her eyes. "I was holding it when I came out here, huh!" she shouted, smacking Ryan's hand. "Geesh."
"Miss Rossi, it's still evidence."
"No. You need a warrant," Kylie concluded, shaking her head. "I know my rights."
"So then you should know it's an obstruction of justice not to allow us to do our jobs," Calleigh nodded her head.
Kylie turned from Calleigh, to Eric, and then to Ryan. "Really? So arrest me then," she grinned.
"My pleasure," Ryan smirked, grabbing his handcuffs from his back, and grabbing Kylie's wrist.
She gave him a wink and purred a bit, a grin on her face. "A cop who takes action. Mmmm, Amo un uomo dominante," she licked her bottom lip and puckered her lips at Ryan. "Maybe after all this gets cleared up we can take these back to my place. How's that sound, erotico?"
"What did you just call me?" Ryan asked, cuffing her.
"Erotico?" Kylie asked. "I can show you, baby. I bet you'd like that." Her hips swayed as Ryan walked her towards his Hummer, a grin on her face. Three years ago she hadn't of ever though she had the guts to flirt that hard core with a man as good looking as Ryan Wolfe. Three years ago she knew just enough Italian to get her by, but now she knew enough to pass as a fluent speaker. 3 years ago, Kylie was running for her safety. And she knew that if her name turned up in the system, she'd be running all over again. She needed to get a few seconds alone so she could call Niki. If she could tell Niki that she needed help, Niki would fly down to help.
"We need those prints now, Kylie," Ryan Wolfe grinned, sitting in a chair in the interrogation room.
Kylie gave him a smile, and glanced down at her outfit. She was in a pair of gray converses, with a pair of khaki somewhat short, shorts, and a navy blue polo. Not the sexiest thing in the world, but if this guy was into legs, she could make him squirm in his pants.
"Don't I get a call yet?" she asked, letting out a yawn and scooting back in her chair, resting her legs on the table. "Because I can think of a couple people who miss me," she grinned, giving him a wink. "I can tell you're gonna miss me when I leave. 'S that why you holding me in here, periwinkle?"
"Periwinkle?" Ryan asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
"Your shirt," she nodded her head. "Must be a Miami thing. A lot of the guys are wearing the girly colors down here. Bit odd if you ask me."
"Here's the thing, Kylie," Ryan said, leaning forward. "We don't have any records of you ever existing before 2007. Weird, right? You don't even have a social security number. So you can tell us who you really are or we'll get a warrant for your DNA and run it through wanted and missing persons. Because we know someone is looking for you. You're running. And we're CSIs. It's our job to figure it out."
"No!" Kylie shouted, sitting upright. "You can't have my DNA. He'll find me! I haven't worked all these years for you to let him know where I am! Okay. You know I'm not really who I say I am. But I swear I'm not a murderer. Listen. You just gotta believe me."
"Who is he?" Ryan asked leaning forward on the table, as he watched Kylie tap her foot nervously.
"It's not your business! Look, that guy probably just committed suicide or something. You guys are reading way to far into his death."
"The guy was found dead in a coffee shop owned by Matteo Coletti. Of course we're looking into his death."
"Matteo Coletti isn't even a drug dealer!" Kylie shouted. "You all have it all wrong," she laughed. "That coffee shop isn't a front for drug dealing. Far from that."
"You work for him! Why would I believe that?"
"I only work with him because I dated his nephew a while ago and he gave me a job when he found out his nephew left me when I got pregnant," she started. "That's why I have that job. And yeah he pays me under the table, but that's because his low life nephew doesn't pay child support."
"What's your kid's name?" Ryan grinned, knowing he caught her in a lie.
"Max," she replied a little too quickly. "He's 19 months."
"You don't have a kid. You keep just piling yourself deeper and deeper," Ryan grinned. "That warrant will be here in 40 minutes."
"You don't understand," she told him leaning forward so they were inches apart. "The second you put the DNA in the system to run against missing persons, you are going to get dozens of phone calls from people who are looking for me, and miss me and you are giving every one of them false hope. You can explain to my mother why you found my DNA in a murder when I'm not even in Miami."
"No. I'll explain to her that you've lied to her for three years."
"Okay," Kylie nodded her head, breathing out a frustrated sigh. "The truth?"
"Yup."
Kylie leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "I'd like my free call now," she whispered, and bit her lip when she pulled away.
Horatio Caine stood in the lobby of the crime lab, waiting patiently for Kylie to come back to the lab. He had just been explained who Kylie Flack/Rossi was by Mark Santos, head of the undercover detectives' department. Mark had told him everything he needed to know. He had politely asked that any DNA thought to belong to Kylie not go through the system. Kylie would willingly come in to give her fingerprints to compare against any found at the scene, as long as they weren't put in the system.
It was too risky, Horatio understood, but he had a job to do as well, and he needed Kylie to cooperate. Mark had agreed that she should come back in so they could get placebo samples.
The elevator opened, and Kylie stepped off in a pair of tight dark jeans and a red wife beater, her hair curled, and a pair of red flip-flops on her toes, sunglasses holding her bangs from her face.
"Miss Rossi," Horatio called as he watched her glance around the lab unsure of where she needed to be.
"Hi," Kylie called walking towards him, a smile on her face. "I apologize about this morning, sir. My life comes before a murder, no insult to you. I appreciate the CSIs, but at the time, I needed to protect myself from being discovered."
"I completely understand," Horatio smiled. "I went undercover once," he assured her.
"Right," she nodded her head. "I'm sure you loved it. I do." Liar, a voice in her head rang. She hated that her family thought she was dead. She hated that the only people who knew she was okay were Niki Foxx, Mark, and now Horatio. She hoped he would keep her secret.
"CSI Wolfe is waiting for you in the DNA lab," Horatio told her, walking her towards the lab. She followed behind him, unsure of how to act in front of Ryan. Kylie Flack would be shy and nervous, while Kylie Rossi was a badass. She'd hop up on the table, a smug look on her face and seductively open her mouth for Ryan, while Kylie Flack would apologize for her rude behavior that morning.
She hated having to be more than one person.
Horatio opened the door where Ryan stood in a white lab coat, his head in a microscope while Eric Delko stood at an evidence table. "Hey there," Kylie grinned. "Miss me, Periwinkle?"
"What's she doing here?" Ryan asked after he looked up from the microscope.
"I'm here for you, baby," she grinned.
"Mr. Wolfe. Kylie is here to give her DNA and fingerprints. Whatever you do, do not run them through the computer, understood? Every print and sample you run manually to make sure it does not belong to her, and then you put it through the computers."
"Got it," Ryan nodded his head, watching Horatio leave the lab.
Kylie walked over to him, pressing her back against the table, and setting her hands on the top so she could push herself up. When she managed to sit on the glass table, she crossed her legs and watched Eric let out a cough before leaving.
"You've probably done this before," Ryan spoke, clearing his throat, grabbing a pair of latex gloves.
"What?" Kylie asked. "Had something in my mouth? Oh plenty of times," she grinned, watching Ryan blush as he grabbed some things, and then turned to look at her.
"What do you wanna do first?" she asked him.
"DNA," he said, grabbing the long Q-tip. Kylie leaned back and opened her mouth, wincing as he ran it along the inside of her mouth.
"Yuck," she grumbled, shaking her head. "Hate that feeling."
"So," he whispered, sliding the Q-tip into a container, and grabbing her left thumb, causing her stomach to grow with butterflies. "What's your story, Rossi? Why can't you be in the system?"
"Truth or a lie?" she asked, watching him press her thumb on a card.
"Either."
"When I was four, my parents where murdered and the protections program changed my name when they realized that the guy who killed them wanted me. I guess because I was adopted and my mom gave me up without even telling my birth dad."
"Great," Ryan nodded his head. "That was some bullshit there."
Kylie let out a giggle. "Something happened," she whispered, allowing him to press her index finger in the ink as well. "And if someone finds out I'm alive… well it wouldn't be long until I was dead."
"Doesn't that scare you?" he asked her, looking up from his work, still holding her hand.
"Of course," she shrugged, trying to smile. "But you do what you gotta do to survive, right?"
"Must have been bad for you to drop everything."
"It was," she nodded her head. "And I really don't wanna have to do it all over again." Kylie bit her lip and shook her head in an attempt to keep tears from falling from her eyes. She wanted to tell him her secrets. She wanted to be able to tell him how horrible she felt for making her parents think she was dead. How horrible she felt that her twin brother knew she wasn't dead, and tried to search for her continuously. How Niki Foxx had to compose Flack after he turned to alcohol when his sister supposedly "died."
"Well you're done," Ryan smiled, watching her hop down from the table.
"So," she started, turning towards the microscope he had been looking through when she originally came into the lab. "Who did it?" she grinned. "I personally don't think it was one of Coletti's men. Maybe a rival gang? The Cubans have been moving in on the Italian territory. Maybe one of them did it."
"I can't discuss a case with you," Ryan shook his head. "And you should probably be leaving now."
"What?" Kylie asked, looking into the microscope. "I'm not causing any harm am I?" she asked, resting her left hand against the table. "Oh my God this is a cross!" she said, pulling away.
"Yeah?" Ryan asked confused. "I'm looking for traces or fingerprints."
"There was a guy in the shop the other day who had this same cross necklace on. I know he is running with the Cubans. Matteo had him kicked out when he noticed the tattoo on his neck. It was the Cuban Runners. They're new. They don't mess with drugs. They're more…"
"What?" Ryan asked.
Kylie shook her head, and blushed a bit. "They own Spa businesses," she mumbled. "You know? Like…sex….They tried to hire me for a gig and Matteo snapped when he realized who he was."
"Did you get a name?"
"Trejo," Kylie shrugged. "That's his street name. They never give you their real names."
"Maybe the killer lost it in the struggle."
Kylie shrugged. "Maybe. It's not like I'm a CSI or anything," she grinned knowing this was a lie. Before she had gone undercover she worked for the forensics department for the FBI, and before that she'd been a CSI in New York.
She'd never been in the back room of the shop before. It was for meetings only. And she wasn't allowed to know what they were doing. Unless it involved her taking a message to someone lower on the totem pole. Her heart raced when she stood in front of a sitting Matteo Coletti smoking a cigar, and a hand of playing cards, poker chips beside him.
"You get my cross?" he asked her, looking up from his cards.
"No," she whispered. "This is better though, Mr. Coletti," she promised him when he calmly set his cards on the poker table and gave her a look that made her heart beat even faster.
"I'm listening," he nodded his head, his left eyebrow raising.
"Turns out he likes my blue eyes," she whispered. "I got him thinking the cross belongs to the Cubans. He and his boss picked up Trejo about an hour ago. There weren't any prints on the cross."
"Good work, baby," he nodded his head in approval. She cringed when she heard him call her baby, but relaxed when he approved of her work. She had though on her feet to protect her boss, and in his book that was more than good. She proved her loyalty to the Coletti family name. "May just become a Coletti one day. I've got a nephew who's looking to marry. You wanna settle down one day?"
"I wanna help you run this town."
"Good."
"Wolfe's got my number. He wants to go out. I'm thinkin' I can push more info outta him. Make him think this place aint a drug front."
"You do what you gotta do."
"Okay," she whispered, nodding her head relieved she wasn't in trouble. "I should go tend to the front." She turned on her heels and got three steps before Matteo spoke again.
"We're keepin' an eye on you, Rossi," he called causing her to shiver.
Italiano:
Mi scusi? Excuse me
Amo un uomo dominante I love a dominating Man.
Erotico Sexy