Disclaimer: I don't own anything CSI. Too lazy to write more.
Perfect High
He had been waiting in the line up for almost an hour now; his tickets held so tightly in his shaking hands that the ink had started to rub off from the sweat. He knew he shouldn't be here… not while he was sick, but he couldn't help it.
Routine is routine.
When the ride operator took his tickets, he said that he needed someone else to go on him with the ride. With a sigh pulled out his wallet and asked if Andrew Jackson could ride with him; he got a toothy grin and a nod, then he sat down in the ride alone, his wallet that much lighter…
His stomach flopped forwards when the ride started to move, and instantly his eyes were attracted to the glittering lights that were the carnival. And he was on the best one: the Ferris Wheel.
The ride jerked to a stop again when he was almost at the top. Looking down he could see a little girl, far too small to go on the ride, waving up frantically in the arms of who he supposed was her father… because that's what he did when he was up here. He watched people.
He had first gotten the idea from his boss. Pondering over the aspect of 'people watching', he started doing it at work… he found out just how to talk to people to keep them from biting his head off.
Take his Texan friend for instance. He was edgy over all the times he had been endangered in action, and would, more likely than not, always be. It was easier to joke it off if it ever accidentally seeped into the conversation and switch the subject instead of pushing him; he would tell you if it was too much of a problem for him to handle. That's just how he was.
He had become great at this, and the knowledge of people before they even told you was something of a… power surge. It was a natural sugar that fueled him through the day.
But he had analyzed and conversed and watched everyone, even the gunman who helped them match bullets and find out which firearms were used… did you know that he people watched too? His accent thicker than normal and he used it to his advantage to charm people into a better mood whenever his results went south.
His watching had moved to the point that, outside of conversation he couldn't think of his friends by their name. There was the Texan, the street-smart-one, the boss, the Ex-Dancer, the 'Troubled One'… there were so many of them, he had to stop. He was mixing people up that his conversations were going right anymore, and people became first confused, then curious as to who he'd really meant… and, of course, they would get aggravated when he didn't tell.
Like the Ex-Dancer had last weekend.
They had been talking, quiet normally really… he hadn't analyzed anything, but to the point that she flicked her hair behind her shoulders. He knew what that meant, and turning around proved it when he saw the 'street-smart-one' walking towards them. In this moment of realization, he grinned foolishly and teased her, forgetting that she wasn't one to be teased…
He had crossed a barrier that he had known was there, and mistaken her boundaries for another's… he had screwed up.
That's when he knew he had to come here.
Perched on a mechanical being fixed to go 'round and 'round, he could watch and analyze as many people as he wanted… and it was perfect. The lights made it seem like it was almost day, and he could see blunt joy and romance and teenage fights and everything. And safe, high above the ground, he could feel this power surge at knowing that he knew them without knowing them, and couldn't screw up a thing.
He was pulled out of his musing when the ride stopped, and the machine operator told her, rather rudely, that it didn't matter if he sat with James Madison, he could only get one turn in a row.
Understanding, he moved aside for the two lovebirds that took his place, and started walking away. His cell phone rang, and he answered it with still hands.
"Sanders."