Hazard- noun (1) Game of chance played with two dice. (2) A source of danger.
Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin or CSI: Crime Scene Investigation. This is written only for fun, and I am gaining no profit.
"That's it, come on, you got it. One more step, there. We'll rest on the landing a bit. That's more for me than you, though, so don't worry. I'd have taken you up in the elevator, but I don't think you'd have liked that. But that's okay; I only live on the second floor. We'll be fine. Alright, here we go. Step up, that's right. Just this part left to go. We've almost made it. Here we go. Hold on a sec while I dig out my keys, I hate the pockets in these sweats, too big. Okay, I got it; let's get you to the couch."
The six foot something of slack muscle leaning heavily on her shoulder let out a pained snarl at her threshold, and recoiled. Rachel pulled back with him, stuttering out a worried apology.
"Sorry, sorry! I'm really not that used to such sensitive and injured people going through my barriers. Hold on a sec and I'll pull them down." Rachel concentrated on seeing the glow of a red wall stretching across her doorway, then concentrated on seeing the red dim and then fade completely. She steered the guy slowly through it, kicking the door closed behind her, and then pushed him gently down onto the couch. He groaned.
She had a large mug of water in the microwave before she knew exactly what she was doing. Opening the cupboard above and to the left of the sink, Rachel knew her instinctive actions hadn't led her astray. Quickly she plucked the Rosemary tea box and opened it, preparing to remove a teabag.
But wait, wouldn't Chamomile be better? And the guy (who she realized had yet to give his name) seemed to be the type to like the more traditional Green or Black tea, not that he seemed to be the type who liked tea at all. Or Lemon Saffron, or Apple even, might be better. Why did she have to like tea so much? There were too many choices. And it wasn't even an herbal Wiccan thing; half the witches she knew hated the stuff. So which one? Go with your first instinct; Rachel reminded herself, always trust your subconscious. It knows more than you do.
When the microwave beeped (entirely too loud, in her opinion. Rachel decided then she was getting a new one, hopefully with a less annoying chime.) Rachel pulled the steaming mug out and dropped a Rosemary teabag into it. Rosemary for cleansing, she recalled as she watched the dark flavor spread across the clear water. A good choice. Thank you, Spirit, for guiding me in my decisions. Rachel sent the silent thanks out into the universe.
When the water had become good and dark, rich with Rosemary, Rachel tested the temperature with her pinky finger. She pulled it out quickly. Hot! She yelped in her mind as the finger made the plunge into her mouth.
A minute later she was handing the mug over to an exhausted looking young man, having added no milk, honey, or sugar to it. It was more potent that way, so he'd have to deal with the taste.
"It's hot." She told him, and he held it between his hands for a while, probably letting the warmth seep into fingers cold from shock. Eventually she stood up, once she had seen he'd taken a sip and not refused it. Rachel then busied herself moving her coffee table to the corner of her cramped living room, taking the rug that went underneath with it. The stand next to the couch went next, and then she was in her bedroom pulling together the supplies she would need.
From her bedside table she grabbed a pack of black chalk, two items off her alter (her necklace and a piece of thick, blue tinted sea glass) and a small bottle of salt. In the living room she drew a circle deosil around the couch, starting at the north and connecting back at that point.
"May the power of the Lord and the Lady fill this circle, and bring forth positive energy." Next she followed the same motion, except this time with the salt. When she came around once again to the north, she spoke her next blessing.
"May the power of the Spirit fill this circle, and banish negative energies." This time she circled with her right index finger following the path of her circle. She spoke as she walked, seeing in her mind golden energy springing up like a hedge beneath her finger.
"Through the Sacred Self I empower this circle, in the name of the Lord and the Lady." As she reached her starting point for the third time, she bent over and smacked her hand on the ground, reciting:
"As above, so below. This circle is sealed!" Then, for good measure, she traced an equal-armed cross in the air with her left hand. She was taking every precaution possible in the span of time she'd allotted herself, the circle she'd just casted was unnecessarily complex for what she planned to do. But she did not want the thing that did this to come for her, too. Especially if it was a demon, as the man said. She'd heard stories about demons form her grandfather for as long as she could remember.
Then with a sigh, Rachel Downing settled herself on her knees next to the sprawled out form of the guy whose name she still did not know, and began to meditate.
The flight had been thankfully short. Nevada wasn't that far from California, and all in all it only took him about four hours, including the absurd new airport security measures. That was another reason not to fly. In a post-9/11 society, flying was practically a hazard to your sanity.
And he really, really should have known. Sanosuke, a habitual gambler, was bound to be found in Las Vegas. That he had known. What he should have guessed was that it wouldn't be quite so easy to find him as it had been in the old days. The barrier Sanosuke maintained between their connection, while weakened, had gone back up after the initial call. And Saitou, who knew nothing of his condition, didn't dare risk the damage it might cause to tear it down.
But that did not mean the idiot couldn't be traced through other means. He was a cop, after all.
Sanosuke's apartment was predictably messy, clothes strew over every surface. It was only a three room place (if you could call those rooms) made up of a bedroom (which was were the front door lead) a bathroom (absolutely tiny, but surprisingly clean) and the kitchenette, which was only separated from the bedroom by the change from carpeting to tile. The pup's sent covered every surface, but he caught a whiff of old perfume and the faint smell of sex. Not totally the adrenaline junkie he remembered, but not that far removed. The kid was in Vegas, after all.
From his apartment, Saitou spent half the day following Sanosuke's energy trails, trying to find the most recent. It was about three o'clock when he found it.
Saitou stood at the mouth of the alley, exposed skin tingling with electric numbness, and wondered just what the idiot pup had gotten himself into. He could practically see the marks of clashing Ki splayed all around him. What could do this? Something wriggled in the back of his head, like a memory he didn't recall coming forward. Saitou paused in his thoughts, waiting, but no revelation occurred.
He then spent the next half an hour following Sanosuke's frantic – and fading – Ki trail in zigzagging and panicked pattern across the back alleyways of Las Vegas. But then the trail vanished into nothing. For a moment Saitou's severe face pulled a hard frown, but then he smirked.
Underneath his building frustration and worry, the demon found it in himself to be proud of the pup. On the run, panicked, and obviously injured on a spiritual level, Sanosuke had still managed to grasp his Ki and bury it from all sensing. The creacher that had done this had left no trail for him to follow, but he was sure Sanosuke lost it here. The ahou was safe for the moment.
It was just then that Saitou felt a massive headache bloom behind his eyes, and before he had time to brace himself, his senses exploded.
A/N: So you know, deosil mean clockwise in Witchie lingo. And I'm sorry to those of you who are seriously offended by that kind of thing, but this is a story of the supernatural, and Wicca is a religion that is very in tuned with that kind of thing. There were probably others I could have used, I'm sure, but this one I know the most about. If the Wiccan religion offends you, then you should not read this story. If you have not turned back by now, and am reading this, I'd like to ask that if you flame me please be PC. There is nothing I can't stand more than people who hate something without even knowing what it is.
That said, to those of you who don't care about that, but do care about the topic of Rachel as a Mary-Sue or OC or whatever, I'll be upfront with you. Yes, she will be a main character in this story. Yes, she will be using her magic to occasionally save the day. No, she is not the main hero (who is Sano, obviously) and with that I'd like to add that I hope to give all CSI characters close to equal time in the spotlight. I know they aren't here yet, but they're coming, I promise. This chapter just got a little out of hand length wise, so that why I couldn't fit them in like I'd planned. And no Rachel will not be paired with any character.
And yes, I know I kinda overdid the witch thing in this chapter, but I really have to set that up for the story. Please review with comments and criticism. Thank you.
TS