Disclaimer: The characters in CSI belong to.someone rich. Not me. Also, I
have no idea if there is an hotel called The Grand in Las Vegas, but the
one in this story is fictional, along with it's manager and staff.
A/N: Sorry for the delay. The research is taking longer than I thought it would. Still, better late than never I guess.
Chasing Rabbits
Chapter Two
The Grand Hotel, despite its name, was very much like every other hotel along the Las Vegas strip. Although fairly high class, the rooms weren't overly expensive as, like most of the tourist areas in Vegas, it was heavily subsidized by the Casino situated on the ground floor. The whole point of a town like Vegas was that people didn't usually come here to take in the views of the mountains or soak up the local history. The one thing that kept this town on its feet was the gamblers. From High Rollers to one- off Roulette players, from the guy who finds a quarter on the floor and bets it on a whim to the hard-core addicts who sit at their machines from dawn 'till dusk and through the night, betting their life savings and their souls on the next dime and the next and the next. Las Vegas; the ultimate in decadence and despair.
Hardened and immune to the shouts of joy and the cries of frustration, Gil and Sara made their way through the thick fog of cigarette smoke and the stench of stale alcohol, finally spotting Detective Jim Brass leaning against a closed Black Jack table, apparently in deep conversation with the hotel manager. Instinct and years of working with Gil Grissom caused Brass to look up from the notes on his pad and glance over to where the two CSI's were rapidly approaching.
Waving them over, he said something Gil couldn't make out to the manager and nodded his goodbye as the suited-and-booted man turned on his heel and stormed away. "Apparently our Mister Patterson isn't too happy that one of his more expensive suites is out of commission," Brass said with a wry smile as Sara and Gil stopped before him. "Can you believe the guy actually asked if we wouldn't mind moving 'our operation' to one of the less- expensive rooms on the second floor?"
Gil grinned at that request. "What did you say?" he asked, already knowing that whatever Brass' reply would have been would have entirely ignored the departments recent memo on public relations.
"Nothing I care to repeat in front of a lady," Brass replied, honoring Sara with one of his more mischievous grins.
Sara smiled in response. "I don't even want to know what he said about us taping off the pool."
"Any news on the vics companion?" Gil asked as they made their way out of the casino and towards the elevator.
"Not yet," Jim replied. "I've got one of my boys running the name, but no hits so far. The room was paid for on Ms Winchester's credit card, but he did leave behind a few things in their room; a shirt and a pair of pants. Maybe you guys could work your magic on them."
Gil nodded as they stepped inside the elevator. "Well, lets go see."
~*~
The man's throat tightened automatically against the pressure on his windpipe. He thrust his hips forward slightly; wrists pulling and chafing against the ropes that bound him. He strained his eyes, trying to look down at the woman on her knees before him, her lips wrapped around him, sucking in time to the automatic rocking of his hips. He could barely see any more, his oxygen restricted to a minimal and his heart pumping wildly in his chest.
"Harder," he managed to croak out and both the woman on her knees and the other standing before him attended to their tasks with a little more effort, neither knowing to whom he was speaking. He was pressed fully against the wall now, the pressure of the woman's thumbs against his throat forcing him to stand a little straighter. The blonde on her feet watched with detached curiosity as her client's cheeks reddened with effort and his eyes began to bulge. Why would anyone in their right mind actually enjoy this? She wondered absently. Grimacing she tried to ease the pressure of her thumbs, her fingers still splayed against the wall behind him. The muscles in her hands were aching now, but, as with all of her customers, she continued to do what he asked.
As long as she got paid.
The brunette on her knees was also beginning to feel the familiar ache of repetitive strain in her jaw. Thank God she'd remembered to buy more lip balm, this guy had been at it for almost thirty minutes and still she was no closer to collecting her cash and getting the hell outta there.
Not wanting to know what the other girl was doing above her, she made a few obligatory appreciative noises and concentrated once again on the task at hand. In a last ditch effort she grabbed the guy by his hips and manually thrust him inside her mouth as deeply as she could take without gagging. Finally she could taste the salty indication that the job was almost over and closed her eyes in welcome relief.
Soon she could go home. Soon she could go home.
~*~
Brass nodded to the officer stationed outside Ms Winchester's hotel suite and swiped the key card through the slot, allowing entrance to himself and his companions.
The room was well furnished with expensive, if somewhat tacky furniture. There were two rooms leading off from the main living room, one being the bedroom and the other being the bathroom. Grissom walked straight through into the bedroom and found another adjoining door. Opening it, he discovered it was a second entrance to the bathroom, making the bedroom itself an en suite. The room was a rather off-putting mixture of pinks and purples, with floor-to-ceiling widows and mirrors strategically placed for optimum viewing. The bed was circular and unnecessarily large, with rumpled sheets and as yet unidentified stains on the covers. To the left was a walk- in closet and a dresser with a few of the victims personal belongings laid carefully alongside the complimentary sample perfumes and body creams provided by the hotel.
"Looks like a bordello," Sara remarked casually as she placed her case carefully on the carpeted floor.
Grissom nodded in response and walked over to the dresser. Using only his gloved fingertips, he began inspecting the items the victim had left behind. "Hand cream, hairspray, pile cream?" Gil glanced at Sara. "Why would she keep this in the bedroom and not the bathroom?"
Sara smiled knowingly. "She probably used it under her eyes," she replied mysteriously. Gil just blinked and awaited further elaboration. "It's supposed to help get rid of ageing lines," she finished, eager to see her superiors response. The female of the species had always eluded Grissom who, as a scientist and an old fashioned guy, could never get to grips with a lot of what women considered perfectly acceptable
"Oh," he replied eventually and, with one last exasperated glance, placed the offending ointment back on the table. "How do you know stuff like this?"
Sara feigned offence. "In case you hadn't noticed, I *am* female."
Gil glanced at her quickly. "I'd noticed," he said quietly before turning away and heading towards the head of the bed.
Sara looked intently down at her case, absently touching a few of the chemicals and objects contained within. What the hell did he mean by that? she wondered. Was she meant to take that as a compliment?
Sighing she stood and made her way over to the window. This whole skirting around each other was really starting to grate. She looked over at Grissom who was holding up a suspender belt and staring at it in horror. Sometimes he really could be adorable.
"I'll tell you what," Sara said, taking pity on him, "I'll work the bedroom and you do the living room." Grissom threw down the belt, grateful to be leaving such an area of mystery and walked back into the other room where Brass was busy going through the old Oak desk.
Suddenly the detective stopped rummaging and looked over at Gil in surprise before picking up something shiny with his gloved hands.
"Sara found an empty Champagne glass, right?" he asked as he looked closer at what turned out to be a letter opener.
"Right," Gil replied, walking over to the desk. "Greg's testing it now. Why? What have you found?"
"Well if she was poisoned," Brass murmured, holding up the opener, which Gil could see was covered in a white chalky substance "Then I think maybe I just found the murder weapon."
--------------------------------------------
Hopefully it shouldn't take so long to get chapter three finished. I'd love to know whether or not you all like it , so please give feedback.
A/N: Sorry for the delay. The research is taking longer than I thought it would. Still, better late than never I guess.
Chasing Rabbits
Chapter Two
The Grand Hotel, despite its name, was very much like every other hotel along the Las Vegas strip. Although fairly high class, the rooms weren't overly expensive as, like most of the tourist areas in Vegas, it was heavily subsidized by the Casino situated on the ground floor. The whole point of a town like Vegas was that people didn't usually come here to take in the views of the mountains or soak up the local history. The one thing that kept this town on its feet was the gamblers. From High Rollers to one- off Roulette players, from the guy who finds a quarter on the floor and bets it on a whim to the hard-core addicts who sit at their machines from dawn 'till dusk and through the night, betting their life savings and their souls on the next dime and the next and the next. Las Vegas; the ultimate in decadence and despair.
Hardened and immune to the shouts of joy and the cries of frustration, Gil and Sara made their way through the thick fog of cigarette smoke and the stench of stale alcohol, finally spotting Detective Jim Brass leaning against a closed Black Jack table, apparently in deep conversation with the hotel manager. Instinct and years of working with Gil Grissom caused Brass to look up from the notes on his pad and glance over to where the two CSI's were rapidly approaching.
Waving them over, he said something Gil couldn't make out to the manager and nodded his goodbye as the suited-and-booted man turned on his heel and stormed away. "Apparently our Mister Patterson isn't too happy that one of his more expensive suites is out of commission," Brass said with a wry smile as Sara and Gil stopped before him. "Can you believe the guy actually asked if we wouldn't mind moving 'our operation' to one of the less- expensive rooms on the second floor?"
Gil grinned at that request. "What did you say?" he asked, already knowing that whatever Brass' reply would have been would have entirely ignored the departments recent memo on public relations.
"Nothing I care to repeat in front of a lady," Brass replied, honoring Sara with one of his more mischievous grins.
Sara smiled in response. "I don't even want to know what he said about us taping off the pool."
"Any news on the vics companion?" Gil asked as they made their way out of the casino and towards the elevator.
"Not yet," Jim replied. "I've got one of my boys running the name, but no hits so far. The room was paid for on Ms Winchester's credit card, but he did leave behind a few things in their room; a shirt and a pair of pants. Maybe you guys could work your magic on them."
Gil nodded as they stepped inside the elevator. "Well, lets go see."
~*~
The man's throat tightened automatically against the pressure on his windpipe. He thrust his hips forward slightly; wrists pulling and chafing against the ropes that bound him. He strained his eyes, trying to look down at the woman on her knees before him, her lips wrapped around him, sucking in time to the automatic rocking of his hips. He could barely see any more, his oxygen restricted to a minimal and his heart pumping wildly in his chest.
"Harder," he managed to croak out and both the woman on her knees and the other standing before him attended to their tasks with a little more effort, neither knowing to whom he was speaking. He was pressed fully against the wall now, the pressure of the woman's thumbs against his throat forcing him to stand a little straighter. The blonde on her feet watched with detached curiosity as her client's cheeks reddened with effort and his eyes began to bulge. Why would anyone in their right mind actually enjoy this? She wondered absently. Grimacing she tried to ease the pressure of her thumbs, her fingers still splayed against the wall behind him. The muscles in her hands were aching now, but, as with all of her customers, she continued to do what he asked.
As long as she got paid.
The brunette on her knees was also beginning to feel the familiar ache of repetitive strain in her jaw. Thank God she'd remembered to buy more lip balm, this guy had been at it for almost thirty minutes and still she was no closer to collecting her cash and getting the hell outta there.
Not wanting to know what the other girl was doing above her, she made a few obligatory appreciative noises and concentrated once again on the task at hand. In a last ditch effort she grabbed the guy by his hips and manually thrust him inside her mouth as deeply as she could take without gagging. Finally she could taste the salty indication that the job was almost over and closed her eyes in welcome relief.
Soon she could go home. Soon she could go home.
~*~
Brass nodded to the officer stationed outside Ms Winchester's hotel suite and swiped the key card through the slot, allowing entrance to himself and his companions.
The room was well furnished with expensive, if somewhat tacky furniture. There were two rooms leading off from the main living room, one being the bedroom and the other being the bathroom. Grissom walked straight through into the bedroom and found another adjoining door. Opening it, he discovered it was a second entrance to the bathroom, making the bedroom itself an en suite. The room was a rather off-putting mixture of pinks and purples, with floor-to-ceiling widows and mirrors strategically placed for optimum viewing. The bed was circular and unnecessarily large, with rumpled sheets and as yet unidentified stains on the covers. To the left was a walk- in closet and a dresser with a few of the victims personal belongings laid carefully alongside the complimentary sample perfumes and body creams provided by the hotel.
"Looks like a bordello," Sara remarked casually as she placed her case carefully on the carpeted floor.
Grissom nodded in response and walked over to the dresser. Using only his gloved fingertips, he began inspecting the items the victim had left behind. "Hand cream, hairspray, pile cream?" Gil glanced at Sara. "Why would she keep this in the bedroom and not the bathroom?"
Sara smiled knowingly. "She probably used it under her eyes," she replied mysteriously. Gil just blinked and awaited further elaboration. "It's supposed to help get rid of ageing lines," she finished, eager to see her superiors response. The female of the species had always eluded Grissom who, as a scientist and an old fashioned guy, could never get to grips with a lot of what women considered perfectly acceptable
"Oh," he replied eventually and, with one last exasperated glance, placed the offending ointment back on the table. "How do you know stuff like this?"
Sara feigned offence. "In case you hadn't noticed, I *am* female."
Gil glanced at her quickly. "I'd noticed," he said quietly before turning away and heading towards the head of the bed.
Sara looked intently down at her case, absently touching a few of the chemicals and objects contained within. What the hell did he mean by that? she wondered. Was she meant to take that as a compliment?
Sighing she stood and made her way over to the window. This whole skirting around each other was really starting to grate. She looked over at Grissom who was holding up a suspender belt and staring at it in horror. Sometimes he really could be adorable.
"I'll tell you what," Sara said, taking pity on him, "I'll work the bedroom and you do the living room." Grissom threw down the belt, grateful to be leaving such an area of mystery and walked back into the other room where Brass was busy going through the old Oak desk.
Suddenly the detective stopped rummaging and looked over at Gil in surprise before picking up something shiny with his gloved hands.
"Sara found an empty Champagne glass, right?" he asked as he looked closer at what turned out to be a letter opener.
"Right," Gil replied, walking over to the desk. "Greg's testing it now. Why? What have you found?"
"Well if she was poisoned," Brass murmured, holding up the opener, which Gil could see was covered in a white chalky substance "Then I think maybe I just found the murder weapon."
--------------------------------------------
Hopefully it shouldn't take so long to get chapter three finished. I'd love to know whether or not you all like it , so please give feedback.