Benny sang quietly to herself under her breath as she walked down the hallway of CSI.
"All things must pass; none of life's dreams can last. So I must be on my way to face another day…" She reflected fondly upon the message she had left on Ryan's bathroom mirror, wondering if he had read it, knowing that he had. He always did. She pushed open the door to the layout room where Eric stood, looking at some pictures strewn across the table.
"Nice of you to join us, slacker." He said with a grin when he saw her.
"Yeah, sorry, I didn't mean to ditch yesterday but…such is life." She shrugged, hoping she wouldn't have to go into details. He nodded and gestured for her to stand beside him, as to view the pictures more efficiently.
"So just to bring you up to date on the Gordon case," he began, picking up the two rap sheets. "We're thinking that Marcy killed her ex-husband Keith and scattered his body in small pieces across the country. We know that someone did, and she's our only suspect at present because of the errant hair." He indicated the close-up of the flesh Benny had found only the day before.
"And how do we find this broad?" she asked as she organized the papers on the table so that they were all straightened and equidistant.
Eric chuckled. "I don't think I've ever heard a girl say the word, 'broad' before. It's…" he trailed off.
"It's what, Mr. Delko?" Ben asked playfully.
"Refreshing?" He grinned. This girl is something else. But his interest in her was purely friendly and professional. She clearly had a huge thing for Ryan, and he didn't want to get in the middle of it. "To answer your question…I can't answer your question. We've put out a broadcast on the last vehicle she was known to drive but other than that there's not much we can do."
Benny sighed. "I was afraid you were going to say that. What about checking out her credit card, see where she's been hanging out. If we can—" Her face suddenly lit up, translating that childish glee that she sometimes got in the midst of a case. She turned and ran out of the room.
"Ben!" Eric called out the door at her retreating form. "You gonna fill me in?"
She turned back, the look of excitement clear in her face. "You're going to love me for this."
Two hours later, Benny was still immersed in the detailed records of Marcy Gordon's life. Starting with her birth certificate, Ben then moved on to her baptismal certificate, graduation diploma, marriage certificate, legal records, credit history, and, most importantly, her passport history. Eric walked in to find her hunched over her laptop, scanning a series of papers.
"So where are we with this?" Eric asked her when it became clear that she hadn't noticed him walk in.
"Name the states where we recovered Keith Gordon's body parts." She replied, not taking her eyes off of the screen.
Eric paused for a moment. "Wyoming, Utah, Arizona, Oklahoma, Mississippi, and Georgia. Clumps of states, but not all in one area. I still don't know where you're going with this."
"Check it. I have credit card receipts and passport stamps that indicate that Marcy Gordon went to all of those states, plus Nevada, New Mexico, Tennessee, and Ohio. Busy girl."
"And what do you want to bet that there are little pieces of hubby in all those states."
Ben grinned. "I like our odds."
"So, can your magic credit records tell us where she is now?"
"Last purchase was a bean burrito and coffee in Fort Lauderdale, two days ago." She looked at Eric mischievously. "I'll drive."
"Honey, I'm home!" Benny called as she opened the front door to Ryan's home and hung up her jacket on the coat rack. Stepping inside, her senses were immediately met by the acrid scent of yams, mashed potatoes, and mashed potatoes?
"Hey, you got here just in time!" called out Ryan as he stepped out of the kitchen. Benny couldn't help but laugh. Ryan Wolfe, renowned for his sudden bouts of anger, gorgeous—but unfortunately concealed—body, and intense ambition, was clad in a baby blue apron that read "Ms." across the front. He blushed when he realized what he was wearing, and made to untie it, but Benny came forward and grabbed his hand.
"You pull it off nicely, Mr. Wolfe." What a cutie. He cooks, he cleans—well, OK, he really cleans—and he still manages to maintain one hot bod.
Ryan's face was beet red as he looked down and smiled slightly. "I just finished setting the table. I hope you're hungry."
"Honestly, Ryan, don't be a fool. You cooked; it's only fair that I do the dishes!" Benny argued heatedly as they cleared the table over an hour later.
"You can wash, but I'm drying and putting them away. That's as far as I'm willing to compromise." They stared one another down for a moment, then smiled and headed into the kitchen.
They settled into a comfortable, well-fed silence as they did the dishes together, until Ryan cleared his throat.
"So, my eye seems to be doing really well; my vision is way better than before. I think I can go into work tomorrow." His tone, however, suggested that he was seeking her approval. One night at my place and already she's got me asking if I can go to work. Who doesn't love a tough, empowered woman?
Benny smiled at him as she handed him a wooden spoon. "Now, Ryan, the doctor said that you're not to work for at least three days. And speaking of which, I couldn't help but notice that your antibiotics are in the exact same place as they were when I left this morning; you really need to take those if you want to avoid infection."
"Yes, mother." He replied jokingly, rolling his eyes. Could we be any more of an old married couple?
It was late into the evening by the time Benny and Ryan got settled onto the couch to watch her favourite movie, The Lion King.
"You've got to be the only adult I know who has this film memorized." Ryan commented as he sat down with a bowl of popcorn. "I mean, I could see you liking chick flicks, maybe some historical documentaries, or even noir, but The Lion King? It's…" Benny shot him a glance. "Unprecedented."
"Hey, man, it's a quality film." She retorted, defensive of her beloved movie. "Any important life lesson is in here and…oh, shush, it's starting." She said as the tell-tale opening lyrics began.
What a weirdo. But, hey, it's all a part of her allure.
The movie continued, but the plot had barely developed before Benny was asleep on Ryan's shoulder, her hand in the popcorn bowl. The long day had taken its toll and she was out like a light, without a single complaint from Ryan, who was all-too aware of her gentle breathing, and her familiar scent so near to him.
How familiar is this? It seems so wrong that it would feel so right to have her passed out on my shoulder. He thought back to how she used to curl up on the couch with her head in his lap, and inevitably fall asleep before long. She seems so young sometimes.
He thought for a long while about what to do, and seriously considered just carrying her right into his bedroom and tucking her in, but somehow he knew that she would be embarrassed to be put to bed by anyone but a parent; he had developed a certain aptitude for predicting the ways in which her pride would make itself evident. With this in mind, he gently roused her from her sleep.
"Ben, hon, you should probably go to bed." He whispered softly, almost hoping she wouldn't wake easily, giving him no choice but to lift her to bed. But she woke quickly, rubbed her eyes, and looked at him with that expression he had forgotten about, but immediately remembered. Her eyes were bloodshot, her lids low, and she looked generally confused and disconcerted. It was a strange face, that she always made when woken up, but he found it somehow irresistible and beautiful.
"I fell asleep?" She seemed crestfallen at the notion.
It took a moment for him to find his voice. "Yeah…I wasn't going to wake you, but…yeah."
She nodded. "Yeah." At least he knows better than to try and tuck me in.
They looked at one another for a long while, until she patted his knee. "I hate to break up the party, but I have work in the morning, and you're sitting on my bed."
Huh? "Huh?"
"I got the bed last night. Time to switch it up."
"But— "
"And before you can try to object like some sort of gentleman," She rose, grabbed his hands, and pulled him to his feet. "I insist." She turned him, and, with a smack to his bottom, sent him in the direction of his bedroom.
He turned at the door. "You know, Ben, I wouldn't mind—"
"No, no, no, you made me two meals today and sat through a children's movie. You're sleeping in your bed, and that's final." She interjected.
Ryan nodded. "Right. I'll, uh…I'll see you in the morning."
"Goodnight, Ryan."
"Goodnight."
And with that, he quietly shut the door and walked over to his bed, where he sat with his head in his hands for a long time. She should have let me finish.
He had been about to say, "I wouldn't mind if you wanted to share my bed tonight."
Such is life.