Thank you so much for all the awesome reviews. I loved getting them; it's so good to know what you think of this story. Also thanks to autumngold and fatkat for your reviews, I'm sorry I couldn't send a proper reply. And thanks for the favorites and alerts; I hope you all continue to enjoy this story.
Black Moon Rising – Waking the dead
Mac looks back at Sinclair who in turn looks at him, rather annoyed.
Mac raises an eyebrow, "Why do I have the feeling that you'd like to make me responsible for that too." he points out of the window.
Sinclair snorts softly, "Taylor, you should know me better. Do you really think I take you to be capable of influencing the weather? It's my job to make sure that you do your job right, but it's nothing personal."
"Well then, may I suggest that you leave me to actually doing my job?" Mac frowns. "And do what you're so good at in your job and take care of the politics."
"Oh, believe me, I am." Sinclair smiles with a hint of satisfaction, "But, whether you like it or not, you're a part of the politics." He turns to leave.
Mac sighs after the other man has passed through the door. He's sure that Sinclair recalls full well how much he dislikes politics. As if this case weren't already bad enough on its own. His head starts throbbing again. He hopes that Stella will come back from the crime scene soon. Her presence, her touch, works so much better than any painkiller.
-o-
The first thing she sees are neon snakes. Glowing unearthly they seem to be hissing right through her head. Angell feels something pressing against her back. Or maybe she's pressing against something. Is it a wall or the ground? A slight directionality in the gritting feeling, she assumes that she must have stumbled back against the wall and the friction is now keeping her upright.
"What the hell was that?" she mumbles.
It takes a while before there is a reply, and it comes from further down.
"Guess God just took a picture of us." Flack remembers how as a boy he had told a little cousin that story to take away her fear.
"Well, I hope he's happy with that snapshot. I must have been gaping like mad."
"I'm sure you still looked great." Flack says.
"Thanks." She holds out a hand to help him up.
He stretches himself and then bends to brush the dust off his clothes. He looks around. "Stella?"
There's a groan, a mixture of hurt and annoyance. A lot of annoyance. It sounds very much like Stella, and it was possibly her pride that suffered the most.
Stella picks herself up from a pile of rubbish. "I am absolutely certain that I did not draw the short straw for dumpster duty!" she puffs.
Flack smiles, thinking that whoever the criminal in this case is might be facing a bit of revenge from Stella. And he's relieved to see that his friends are okay. As for the rest of the people around …, he turns to face the group of uniforms and want-to-be reporters, and finds himself rather amused. They all stare into the alley thunderstruck, quite literally, their discussion apparently forgotten. He sees Danny pulling up behind them.
"Hey, you just missed quite a show." Flack greets his friend.
"Don't worry; I was close enough to see a considerable part of it. So, where is the body?" Danny searches the area behind Flack with his eyes.
Flack whirls around. A moment later he's face to face with Danny again. "You just had to make me believe now that we're looking for a Dr. Frankenstein." he scowls.
Danny grins, "How could I possibly resist that opportunity?"
Stella shakes her head, smirking. "Let's get to it, before our victim does walk away."
She lets her eyes travel over the ribbon of sky caught between the buildings, no clouds visible. The fire escape that probably functioned as a lightning rod now shining innocently calm in the moonlight. But she still sees the sparks every time she blinks, and she still feels like they are running through her.
Stella shakes her head again, hoping to release what feels like excess energy. She joins Danny who has got down alongside the victim, and they process the scene. He looks at the body; she works on the surroundings, remembering what the scene had looked like before that disturbance from above.
-o-
Kendall carefully eases a piece of paper apart they had found in the victim's pocket. It appears to have been folded and refolded numerous times. Frayed holes begin to appear where horizontal and vertical folds have met. The paper is greased by use and stuck together not only by moisture. But finally it lies spread open before her. She detects some writing on it but not surprisingly that has suffered from the moisture too. She wishes more people would write with waterproof ink. Only a few of the letters have not dissolved into ghosts and shadows. But in the lab they have their means of bringing them back to life. She prepares the piece of paper for further examination.
"Say, Adam … can you cook?" she asks casually.
"Uh, what?" He looks up, surprised.
"I think you heard me the first time." she smiles, "Can you cook?"
"Eh, y-yeah … why?"
"I heard a lot more garlic has been bought these last few days. Would be a nice way to make sure that we are safe to cook something with it." Brushing an escaped strand of her hair behind her ear Kendall winks at him.
Adam flushes crimson, his eyes zipping back and forth between her face and the table he's working on. Make sure that she's safe. "There's … uhm, I … I actually make an aioli that should keep just about anybody away from you for a few days."
"Anybody? Even the person who shares it with me?" With a twinkle in her eyes Kendall watches the color of Adam's face deepen several shades.
-o-
Stella comes past Mac's office and enters after a soft knock.
"Should have known that you are still around." she addresses him by way of greeting.
Returning her kind smile he has stepped around his desk in a moment. "Are you okay?" he inquires.
"So you heard of our little adventure." Should have known that too.
He nods. "I even got to see part of it, just didn't know that you were at the other end." He had checked as soon as he found out of course, to make sure that every member of his team is okay, but that is not the same as hearing it from her. "You should go home and get some rest."
She shrugs, brushing some curls away from her temple. "Shift isn't over yet. And besides, I'm feeling rather charged at the moment, I don't think I could relax. But you look rather wired too, what happened to you?" She thinks for a moment. "Sinclair?"
Mac nods again. He glances at the clock on his table. "We really should get out of here for a while. How about a late night snack?"
"Sounds great!" Stella feels that she might be beginning to relax after all.
They make their way to the elevator and Mac asks how Danny has been doing at the scene.
"Good, I guess." Stella replies, "But you know, for someone who reacts so emotionally it's amazingly difficult to know how he feels. And he won't talk about it. What about Lindsay?"
"I have a feeling he's pushing her even further away. And I'm not sure she can handle that. She seems fairly distracted." Mac voices his concern.
"They'll be okay." Stella comforts him. "I think they just need to talk."
-o-
A day passes without bringing significant change. Another night settles on New York City. Darkness that had crept into remote corners during the day comes out again. Rising, stretching, it reaches further and further, wrapping itself around signposts and trashcans. Flowing along the curb, smoothing over edges, hiding cracks in the pavement.
Even the steps to the doors of the precinct are playing tricks on people's eyes. Flack takes them carefully, one hand hovering behind Angell's back. He pushes the heavy door open and they walk inside, a brighter light greeting them. As soon as Flack has sat down at his desk his phone rings. He answers it. A woman is on the other end of the line, an accent he can't quite place, but she sounds aged.
"You think there may have been a murder in your neighborhood, Ms Wagner?" Angell hears him say. After a short pause "Three people walked into a blind alley but only two of them came out again. Are you sure the third one didn't use some back door or came out later?" Another short pause. "You're still looking at the alley. Okay," he's interrupted by the voice, "no, we don't expect you to go out and check if there's a body. You have done all you could. Thank you for calling it in. We'll take care of it."
He puts the receiver down and looks at Angell, sighing. "I hope she's having problems with her eyes, but we may just have gotten a fifth victim."
Angell eyes Flack's notes and thinks that she can see the drawing of a stake. She looks into his eyes, still a pleasantly cool blue, but she knows that can change soon.
-o-
Stella walks down the corridor, thinking about what Kendall has found. A handwritten copy of the serenity prayer. God, grant me serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference. Living one day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time. Accepting hardship as a pathway to peace.
She wonders why the victim had this on him, and why it was handwritten. So far they know of no writing of his to compare it with, and no other evidence to tell if it was maybe given to him, much less by whom, or when.
She's on her way to the morgue to hear if Sid has been able to find out more, indications of the victims' identities or cause of death. Several steps away from the swinging doors a shout and a series of clanking noises make her speed up.
Everybody gets a cliff …
Thank you very much for taking the time to read. As always I'd love to know what you think of it so please don't hesitate to leave a review. All thoughts and comments are appreciated any time, and replied to where possible.