A/N: Just came to mind. Hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI.
Nick and Langston walked into the massive casino, suddenly feeling like they should've dressed up for the occasion.
Butlers littered the room like discarded candy wrappers. Each stared at the two men walking in like they were filth that needed to be tidied. It was easily read in their features.
The two CSIs made their way to the back of the massive room with it's arched doorways and high ceilings and low lighting. They tried to avoid eye contact with anyone that wasn't there with them. They were already getting quite a rude welcoming and looking back at them would only make it more uncomfortable.
"I hate the butler conventions on the strip." Nick shook his head faintly, remembering all the hundreds of well-dressed men that always seemed to walk the streets during those weeks. "I always thought they were supposed to be polite and British," muttered Nick to Langston under his breath. His grip tightened on the large case in his hand.
"These guys don't meet your standards?" asked Langston half-jokingly; a thin smile lay upon his dark lips and his eyes twinkled with a faint bit of humor in them.
Nick shook his head, corners of his mouth also turning up into a smile. "I wouldn't hire any one of 'em," he said with one soft chuckle.
The two slowed down as the body came into view: a stiff man in a tuxedo lay splayed across the ground. He had perfectly parted ebony black hair and glazed over brown eyes that stared sightlessly at the ceiling. A handkerchief protruded from the breast pocket of the tuxedo. A full black beard covered his chin and traced his upper lip and touched the skin just below his nose. His pose was like that of a floorboard; he was laying flat with his hands at his sides and his legs together like he was sleeping perfectly, only he would have to be sleeping with his eyes open.
"Was he one of them?" asked Langston as Nick set down his kit and began to work the body for evidence. The darker man's eyes were on one of the witnesses who had seen him drop in the middle of the casino only an hour and twelve minutes earlier. "A butler?"
The witness, a young waitress in a maid's outfit with striking platinum blonde hair, shook her head. "No," she said, a southern drawl evident in her voice, "He told me he was here to hire one of 'em." Her pretty eyelashes batted rapidly. "Told me he was thinkin' of a maid instead."
At that moment, Nick was peeling a note from his now cold hand. It was curled tightly in his fingers and it seemed that he would've been unwilling to let go of it. After he pried it from the body's lifeless hand, he began to unfold the small note.
Inside, with very scratchy, masculine handwriting, Nick could clearly make out four words that made his day just that much harder.
The butler did it
With a quick smile and a breathy laugh, he passed the note up to Langston who took it between his fingers and read it quietly. He also smiled and stared down at a grinning Nick. "Of course the butler did it," said the African-American man, dropping it on the body and walking away so he could truly laugh without seeming too rude.
"Anything to make our lives harder, right, Ray?" called Nick to his disappearing partner.
A/N: Just a funny one-shot. Please review and thank you for reading!
~Sky