Chapter One
Finn wasn't quite sure how they'd gotten to this point. Not again. Those feelings were supposed to lie beneath the surface, pushing hot flashes of rage up instead. The fallout of their last kiss had broken them apart, fractures appearing in what had been such an easy relationship. There was a line firmly in place that the two of them were not supposed to cross. That last kiss had shattered everything between them.
They weren't supposed to be this close. Not in Vegas, not in Seattle, not anywhere.
Her legs strained to push her up to the adequate height to kiss that infuriatingly tall man. Her hand balled into a fist grabbing hold of the lapel of his jacket. Underneath, his shirt was still stained with blood. Finn felt him wince against the pressure on his chest. Regardless of any pain though, Russell was quite clearly not pushing her away.
"Jules…" His voice was quiet.
The nickname, he was not supposed to call her that. It was hard to hear from him, that familiarity they were not supposed to have. A surge of anger welled up; Finn pulled away. There were a thousand reasons she should be mad at D.B. and a few thousand more why she shouldn't.
Two Weeks Earlier
Russell felt almost relaxed. Since coming to Vegas he was pretty sure he'd barely had five minutes to himself at the CSI lab. Too often he found himself acting the part of the parent amongst the bickering staff still dealing with the loss of seasoned colleagues from among the ranks. It definitely felt strange to actually have time to sit and do some work in 'his' office.
Now if only the furniture was that bit more comfortable, it would be an almost perfect shift. The problem with being quite so tall was the chairs very rarely seemed to match his lanky frame in a way that actually supported his back. That or he was getting old.
Whatever train of thought he'd been chasing was interrupted as his phone hummed from the desktop. D.B. watched it for a moment as it slowly vibrated itself in a circular pattern – considering the name that flashed up from the bright led screen.
"Nick, hey. How's it going?" D.B. answered the phone not giving the other agent time to reply. He slouched back into his chair – his free hand coming up to ruffle his strikingly grey hair. The plastic screen of the phone tapped against the heavy frames of his glasses, a sound you wouldn't normally hear – except when the lab was this quiet. "I hardly think you'd need a consult on a robbery."
-"Well, yeah. But there are a lot of prints that need lifting." Nick sounded exasperated; it was clearly going to be a long, boring job.
-"I thought Sara was with you? Don't tell me she left you with all the fun." D.B. grinned, that clearly wasn't going to have happened. "So, you wanna steal some more of my kids?"
-"Well I texted Greg before, I know he's basically sat on his ass."
Russell considered it for a second. "I guess I could spare em' for a while. So long as you bring them back by bedtime." The joke was half-hearted; Russell could picture Nick rolling his eyes, there was still a hint of friction between the two men, a clash of personalities. "Or if Brass rings something major in."
Since he'd delegated that task to Sanders and Brody this meant he was free to catch up on some paperwork. Whilst this wasn't exactly a job he looked forward – generally Russell could find something that shade bit more important to concentrate on. An unfortunate consequence of the 'exciting' few months they'd had in the lab meant he did now have a lot of paperwork to fill in. Still it beat lifting hundreds of prints.
D.B.'s presence in the lab also meant there were unofficial reviews he had to carry out – something the staff had been aware of from the beginning of his time here. That had caused some rather vocal arguments. Though he hadn't know the fiery red-haired Catherine for long, D.B. still found himself wanting her input into some of this. Despite what those above him thought these were real people in the lab; he was new into the fold. He'd barely scratched the surface on just who everyone was.
Time had slipped past him; Russell's hand ached from holding the pen. Long series of letters were in front of him and somehow it had gotten to be quite late in the night shift. His head felt slightly foggy, Russell needed some coffee, real coffee.
It was intricate process, almost an art-form. Though he was fairly often teased; called a "Coffee Snob," to steal the vernacular of a certain blonde CSI. Russell much preferred it to the crap they served in the break room – that couldn't even be called coffee.
He leant against the side of counter feeling much more tired than he probably should. But it had been a tiring few months. Bleakly he rubbed at his eyes and stifled a yawn as he waited for the coffee to brew.
The voice from the doorway startled him – though within a second he recognised the sarcastic; all-knowing tone of the assistant supervisor.
"Coffee Snob." Julie Finlay, teased him not missing a beat. Though with every intention of stealing said snobby variety of coffee. She'd heard the faint clattering of glass from her office and followed the trail, like a true CSI.
Russell looked up, straightening his glasses, grinning that lop-sided grin of his that was far too happy for this late in the night.
"A quiet night." He stated refusing to rise to the playful jibe Finn had thrown his way. "Feels a bit strange, if I'm honest. I've been on my toes since I came here."
-"More so since I took you up on that job offer?" Finn leant in, against him. Pushing him ever so slightly and stealing the coffee pot before he had a chance to argue.
"Make yourself at home." D.B. muttered, but made no move to stop her.
"Don't worry." Finn smiled, "I already have." She arched her eyebrow, almost challenging him to say something back. "Besides I'm sampling. Can't have a connoisseur like you drinking a sub-standard brew."
When he failed to make a comment back, Finn elaborated on her earlier point. "Also I saw Hodges in here earlier, it could be poisoned. Then he might have someone in charge who actually listens to his stories."
D.B retrieved his coffee pot from her; moved away. Not joining in with the playful banter. He seemed to consider something for a second; Finn could see the smile tug at the edge of his mouth just a little.
"That sounds an awful lot like you'd give a damn if something happened." Russell stated, turning back to face her.
Finn opened her mouth to argue with him but the loud ring of D.B.'s mobile interrupted any reply she could have made.
-"Yeah. Brass. No, no I'm free. What'cha got for us?"
Finn couldn't hear Brass' side of the conversation but she watched as Russell's expression changed to one of concentration; he was silent as Brass explained whatever the situation was.
"I've got Finlay here with me now. We'll be over in 10. Already got Doc' on call?"
With a slide of his finger, D.B. ended the call. He looked to the waiting figure of Finn. "Look's like the party's over. Got a probable double homicide. Neighbour rang in a disturbance. There's a lot of blood, and it's 'weird' Police are hanging back for us."
-"Weird?" She questioned.
"Hey, I don't know either. That's all Brass said."
Both dark vehicles crunched into the gravel of the road at roughly the same time. D.B. jumped down from his own car, leaned round the side and nodded to the waiting police captain. Back at the car he grabbed his kit from the backseat and dialled the phone with the other. Russell walked to Finn as she stepped out her own SUV.
His phone had barely rung out before Greg picked up, obviously relishing the distraction from the long arduous task of the robbery case. Quickly D.B. filled him in on the probable situation, gave him the address and told him to bring Brody.
Finn stood waiting for him to finish the call.
"We've not even had a look inside yet." She stated, as D.B. slid the phone back into his jacket.
"True." He replied, "But I can already feel we're going to need as many hands as possible on this one."
Finn rolled her eyes behind the retreating back of Russell but he caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. He ignored it – which annoyed her – she needed to get a rise out of him. She could feel that anger that sat so close to the surface bubble up.
"Don't start with all your Zen master bullshit already." She warned, irritation flooding her voice.
Russell had half-turned to her; she saw a faint flash of hurt creep up into his eyes. That was more like it.
She feels him move to her; his hand is on her upper arm, the CSI case is his other hand clashes against her own. His voice is so calm. "Hey, hey." D.B. chides, "Let's not do this here." He smiles, moving his grip upward to squeeze her shoulder for just a second before turning and making his way out of the shadows of the cars and to the waiting figure of Brass.
Finn is stood there for just a second, her shoulder warm from his brief touch. She's caught in her emotions, part of her wants nothing more to go over and just hit that stupid grin from his face. The other part, the more worrying one wants nothing more than to have kissed him.
A/N: Slightly revised some of the events of the story thanks to certain elements of Season 13 I feel this one is a little more suited to run alongside.
