" It Happens "
by
Aranna Undomiel
A/N: Don't own CSI New York, unfortunately for me, but perhaps rather fortunate for them ;)
Oh I do own the other characters you meet in this story, but I'm afraid it won't make me as rich as I would be when owning the CSI's ;P
This story is set somewhere in the beginning of season 2. Recently found this 2-chapter story after cleaning out my computer and decided to finish it and post it. Hope you'll like it :D
Chapter 1 Trouble
As the officers hauled her prime suspect into the interrogation room, Lindsey Monroe tried her best not to flinch or show any other outward reaction at the sight of the feral sneer the man directed towards her. But clearly that wasn't enough, because the man reacted by deepening his scowl, earning her an amused grin from the tall, dark haired detective standing in the corner.
She hadn't been working here for that long, being transferred from Montana to New York had been a big change for her. And if that wasn't enough on its own, she was to replace a well-loved member of the CSI team. Needless to say, the reactions from the rest of the team, except for Mac off course, had not been overly kind at the beginning. Friendly yes, but not really caring, not at the start of her first shift. But now, after working here for a few months, she had finally started to settle in, becoming a respected member of the team, trusted to work this case solo. Well nearly solo, the tall detective in the corner still went with her on trips outdoors and with interrogations.
The detective was the one she knew the least of; at first she had been wondering how that could work, how he could be a part of the team, but the interaction worked wonderfully well. But still she hadn't learned more about him than his name. Well that and the entire family-history of Don Flack junior; funny how gossip always seemed to be the first thing you heard when you arrived somewhere new... she mused. And now they were doing this case together. The man they had put in front of her at the table, Jed Dowler, was suspected of the brutal murder of a young woman. The images of the crime-scene still vividly visible in the back of her head, she had wasted no time in trying to find the one who had done that and bring him in.
" So Mr. Dowler" Detective Flack started, as he pushed himself off of the wall he had been leaning against. This startled Lindsay, realizing that she hadn't said anything for the last couple of minutes, lost in her thoughts. "I'm glad you decided to make use of our hospitality. I would have hated to use force on a nice guy such as yourself." Dowler didn't respond, but just continued to stare straight ahead, at Lindsay, who started to squirm a bit under that look. "Ah yes, you like blondes don't you?" Flack taunted, while he leaned in on the suspect, effectively blocking his vision on Lindsay.
"Do you know a woman named Jessie Sandston, Mr. Dowler?" Lindsay took over, as she slid a photo across the table past the detective. No reaction came, expect a hand came up from under the table to pull the photo closer. Angered by the smile appearing on his face, she slid more photos across the table. "See, we know you murdered her. Your fingerprints and DNA were all over her. What went wrong? She didn't want you? Thought you were an ugly old creep?"
This got a reaction from both men: Dowler's head flew up at the comment, while Flack moved away from the table a bit in surprise, trying to hide his smile.
"She fought you, didn't she?" Lindsay continued, trying to get him so angry that he would spill it all. "And she nearly won, until you pushed her and she fell, hitting her head, stunning her. You couldn't even have taken her otherwise, you're too weak for that!"
From that moment on, everything happened in a blur. Flack noticed Dowler's hand going into his pocket and swiftly getting back out, clutching something. He jumped towards the table as Dowler went for Lindsay, trying to grab the suspect's hand, but he just missed it. Pain shot through his arm and as he looked at it briefly, he saw a shard of something sticking out of his wrist. Dowler meanwhile still tried to get to Lindsay, who had jumped back in fear and shock, chair fallen backwards. He tried to overpower the man, but Dowler turned out to be a lot stronger than suspected, belying Lindsay's earlier comments. He knew he couldn't hold him down alone, so he yelled at Lindsay, who still stood there, to get some help. She finally snapped out of it and bolted for the door, yelling for help.
Flack quickly focused his full attention back on Dowler, trying to get the man's hands behind his back as he pushed him against the table, but his injured left hand missed the strength to keep a good hold. Dowler's grappling hands somehow got hold of the shard and suddenly pulled it free. The unexpected pain caused Flack's left hand to loosen its grip and Dowler took the small opportunity it presented. He pulled his hand free and planted his elbow forcefully in the detective's stomach. Flack gasped for air as it was forcefully driven out of his body and that gave the suspect the possibility to hit him under his chin, sending the detective to his knees, just as many officers burst into the interrogation room with guns drawn. Dowler quickly pulled the still stunned detective in front of him for cover, holding the shard as a knife against Flack's throat. "I'll kill him if you don't let me go! Now back off!" Dowler shouted, stressing his words by pushing the shard tighter against Flack's neck. The officers looked at each other uncertainly and than back at the detective, who, carefully not to get himself stabbed by the movement, nodded his consent. The detectives moved out of the room and slowly closed the door.
Dowler pushed Flack to a sitting position and stalked angrily to the chair, placing it near the detective and sat down on it, not taking his eyes from the door. Flack meanwhile pressed his fingers against his wound, blood still seeping through them. He tightly buttoned the sleeves of his dark suit and held his arm up against his chest, effectively blocking the blood from sight, but not entirely stopping it from flowing out of the wound...
Minutes and minutes passed with nothing happening and the detective saw Dowler getting more restless with each minute that passed, twirling the shard between his fingers. I so need to have a word with the one who searched him before sending him in, next time he can sit here! Flack thought as more minutes passed by and more of his blood joined the rest already soaking the sleeve of his jacket.
"Hey!" Dowler suddenly yelled, "I want a car, you hear me!" A few seconds passed and then the door opened slowly and Mac walked in, just as Flack had figured he would. That tactic never failed to work on stressed people.
"I'm afraid we can't do that..." Mac started, only to be interrupted by Dowler: "Yes you can, I've got your detective, remember? If you try anything I'll kill him!" He yanked the detective up out of his seated position to prove his point. Flack suddenly felt very lightheaded and his vision swam for a second. "You alright, Flack? Mac asked, a little worried about the pale color appearing on the detective's face. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine Mac, really," Flack answered quickly, a little too quickly for Mac's liking. "I probably got up a bit too fast." He continued flashing his trademark smile at the attempt at a joke, but it did nothing to ease Mac's worry, if the skeptic look on the CSI's face was anything to go by.
"See, he's alright" Dowler said. "Now get me my car!" "I'll see what I can do" Mac answered before moving to the door. He looked questioningly at Flack, who nodded back almost impercievably in response.
TBC…
I'd love to hear what you think of it. Reviews make my day!