The Path of Thorns
By: Allison
A/N: I promised Angie that I would post some more of this story this weekend, so it's short than I had originally planned. Hopefully the next one will be long, and make up for it.
Chapter 1: The Players, The Scene
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The first thing Mary Kincaid, age 34, journalist for the local new station, had done when she'd gotten to work was pour herself a cup of toxic waste coffee from the pot in the employee break room. She enjoyed the nights like these, where news was slow and she had no better place to be than sitting idly within the confines of her small, claustrophobic sized office.
At least she thought she did.
Listening to the rain now as it pounded against her umbrella, more than an hour after her initial foray into work, she certainly wasn't longing for her office now. Looking back, she'd been naïve in thinking her night would be, or could be so uninteresting. She was lucky to be here-the other reporters off elsewhere on assignments. She'd been the only one free, and inadvertently landed what she thought to be the hottest case of the year so far.
Bringing the mike up, she watched as Matt, the cameraman, used his fingers to count down-giving her the go ahead to start.
"Hello this is Mary Kincaid and you're watching channel 12 WHYY, Wilmington's choice for news. We're here at Brandywine State Park where not an hour ago an as yet unidentified woman was found unconscious just past Thompson Bridge Rd. Police have not yet speculated as to how the woman got there, but they do say they believe someone else was involved...keep tuning in to WHYY for more on this story as it develops."
"And that's a wrap," Matt called as he took the camera away from his face. "Nice work Kincaid."
"Thank Donovan, but it isn't over yet." She wasn't sure when the two had started calling each other by their last names, it certainly wasn't when they'd met-him on his first day nearly running her over and spilling his coffee. It was kind of ironic really, how coffee was so vital to their relationship-they'd met over coffee, had their first date over coffee. Hell, the man had proposed while she was making it after dinner one night.
"Who knew we'd be so lucky as to be standing out here in the rain all night," he joked, smiling the smile that would make any woman's knees go weak.
"Speak for yourself. I for one am happy to be here," she blew on her hands for a moment before shoving one back down into the pocket of her jacket.
"Got one of your feelings, again?"
"This one's going to be big-Matt, I can feel it."
Before she could speak again, she noticed a man running in her direction. He was soaking wet from the rain, and carrying what looked to be a large utility flashlight. He was, upon closer inspection-in his late forties, early fifties, his silver hair matted against his forehead.
"I...I have...to see her," he sputtered bracing his hands against his knees as he gasped for air. "Please...I have to."
Mary looked at him warily, "Most people start with 'hello...my name is...' or something."
"Gil...my name is Gil Grissom, I live just off the road over there. Now may I please see her?" He was agitated now, and it was starting to get on Mary's nerves.
She was about to reply but Matt laid a gentle hand on her arm and spoke for her. "Who exactly are you looking for, Mr. Grissom? I'm sure we can help you find them. Someone on the news crew?"
"You don't understand, I saw her face on the news. I know that woman," Gil gritted out. "You have to let me see her."
"They've taken her to the hospital. You'll have to go there." Matt shifted his camera to the other hand, the plastic cover rustling about as he moved. "I can give you directions if you need them." He motioned for Grissom to follow him to the truck so he could get a pen, only to be pulled back suddenly by an unseen hand.
"Matt, I've got a feeing about this one," Mary turned him around and pulled her face up close to his. This man, this Gil Grissom, was the key to everything; she could feel it. And as much as she loved Matt Donovan, she wasn't about to lose her story because of him. She couldn't let Gil Grissom walk off into the night without getting the chance to ask him a few questions.
She whipped back around to talk to the strange man that had approached them, only to find that he was gone.
TBC.
By: Allison
A/N: I promised Angie that I would post some more of this story this weekend, so it's short than I had originally planned. Hopefully the next one will be long, and make up for it.
Chapter 1: The Players, The Scene
+++++
The first thing Mary Kincaid, age 34, journalist for the local new station, had done when she'd gotten to work was pour herself a cup of toxic waste coffee from the pot in the employee break room. She enjoyed the nights like these, where news was slow and she had no better place to be than sitting idly within the confines of her small, claustrophobic sized office.
At least she thought she did.
Listening to the rain now as it pounded against her umbrella, more than an hour after her initial foray into work, she certainly wasn't longing for her office now. Looking back, she'd been naïve in thinking her night would be, or could be so uninteresting. She was lucky to be here-the other reporters off elsewhere on assignments. She'd been the only one free, and inadvertently landed what she thought to be the hottest case of the year so far.
Bringing the mike up, she watched as Matt, the cameraman, used his fingers to count down-giving her the go ahead to start.
"Hello this is Mary Kincaid and you're watching channel 12 WHYY, Wilmington's choice for news. We're here at Brandywine State Park where not an hour ago an as yet unidentified woman was found unconscious just past Thompson Bridge Rd. Police have not yet speculated as to how the woman got there, but they do say they believe someone else was involved...keep tuning in to WHYY for more on this story as it develops."
"And that's a wrap," Matt called as he took the camera away from his face. "Nice work Kincaid."
"Thank Donovan, but it isn't over yet." She wasn't sure when the two had started calling each other by their last names, it certainly wasn't when they'd met-him on his first day nearly running her over and spilling his coffee. It was kind of ironic really, how coffee was so vital to their relationship-they'd met over coffee, had their first date over coffee. Hell, the man had proposed while she was making it after dinner one night.
"Who knew we'd be so lucky as to be standing out here in the rain all night," he joked, smiling the smile that would make any woman's knees go weak.
"Speak for yourself. I for one am happy to be here," she blew on her hands for a moment before shoving one back down into the pocket of her jacket.
"Got one of your feelings, again?"
"This one's going to be big-Matt, I can feel it."
Before she could speak again, she noticed a man running in her direction. He was soaking wet from the rain, and carrying what looked to be a large utility flashlight. He was, upon closer inspection-in his late forties, early fifties, his silver hair matted against his forehead.
"I...I have...to see her," he sputtered bracing his hands against his knees as he gasped for air. "Please...I have to."
Mary looked at him warily, "Most people start with 'hello...my name is...' or something."
"Gil...my name is Gil Grissom, I live just off the road over there. Now may I please see her?" He was agitated now, and it was starting to get on Mary's nerves.
She was about to reply but Matt laid a gentle hand on her arm and spoke for her. "Who exactly are you looking for, Mr. Grissom? I'm sure we can help you find them. Someone on the news crew?"
"You don't understand, I saw her face on the news. I know that woman," Gil gritted out. "You have to let me see her."
"They've taken her to the hospital. You'll have to go there." Matt shifted his camera to the other hand, the plastic cover rustling about as he moved. "I can give you directions if you need them." He motioned for Grissom to follow him to the truck so he could get a pen, only to be pulled back suddenly by an unseen hand.
"Matt, I've got a feeing about this one," Mary turned him around and pulled her face up close to his. This man, this Gil Grissom, was the key to everything; she could feel it. And as much as she loved Matt Donovan, she wasn't about to lose her story because of him. She couldn't let Gil Grissom walk off into the night without getting the chance to ask him a few questions.
She whipped back around to talk to the strange man that had approached them, only to find that he was gone.
TBC.