Chapter 17: You and me baby, ain't…..
Disclaimer: I own nothing of CSI:NY except my OCs in this story. All kudos to them…
Life has been getting away with me these last couple of weeks and I've had to focus on slightly more important things in life, like my friends and stuff, so sorry if you've been waiting to see what happens next. Remember, life has a funny way of creeping up behind you and biting you in the …
Before you get into this chapter, I should apologize for the impending smut – I honestly don't mean to write smut in every chapter, but I woke up this morning and the muse wanted smut, so…
And another appearance from Mommy Dearest and the family from hell as well.
Enjoy!
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Meanwhile, back at the Crime Lab
Mac picked up the phone and sighed heavily before placing a call to Washington D.C.'s FBI offices. As the connection went through, he asked to be connected to Special Agent Seeley Booth…
"Agent Booth," said Mac, by way of greeting, "I believe we have a break on the case down here in NYC."
Looking up, Mac saw Stella standing outside his office. He motioned to her to come in. Stella entered the office and took a seat on the leather sofa by the glass walls.
"That's correct," said Mac, "The connection was made when one of my CSIs noticed som similarities between the crime scene poses of the vics and a picture of Rebecca that he saw on her desk here at the lab."
Mac paused to let the other man speak for a moment.
"I would agree with you, Agent Booth," he replied, "That normally that kind of thing is coincidence, however, when you add in the facts that the killer moved his scene of operations here to NYC just after Rebecca moved here, not to mention the fact she was attacked yesterday aft…"
Booth cut him off. Mac put him on speaker phone.
"Attacked, Detective Taylor? What do you mean attacked?" said Agent Booth.
"Just that," said Stella, "We were informed by dispatch of another DB in Hell's Kitchen, Rebecca was one of the CSIs on duty, she took the call. She was attacked in the alley. We are fairly certain the DB was a staged dump to lure her in."
"Where is she now?" asked Booth, a little harshly, "She's a friend of ours and…"
"She's safe," cut in Mac, "She's staying with one of our homicide detectives. They're neighbors."
"Flack?" asked Booth, "He's a good man."
"He is," affirmed Mac, "Which is a good thing, seeing as her apartment was turned over…"
"Make that trashed," added Stella, getting a glare from Mac; too much information, Stel, it said.
Both the New York detectives could hear Booth sigh heavily.
"I'm going to have to contact her family," said Booth, "I mean, we need to speak to them to establish if this is about Rebecca or the Rhodes family in general. Her parents might have an idea of who could be behind that."
"I don't think Rebecca is going to like that," said Stella.
"Have you met her family?" asked Booth.
"I have unfortunately had that pleasure," said Mac grimly. Booth chuckled.
"Now that is the voice of the man who met Mommy Dearest," he said, "Look, I'll do my thing this end and I'll call you if I have any information that might help. I'll get Bones and I booked on another flight down there…"
"That would be appreciated," said Mac, "And thank you Agent Booth, we look forward to working with you again."
Mac hung up and turned to Stella.
"So Stel," he asked, "Are we any further forward with an ID on the man who's after Rebecca?"
The slightly defeated look in his partner's eyes confirmed that they weren't.
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The conversation with Stanley Rhodes did not go too well, thought Booth. Especially not once Bones had added her usual two cents observations.
Stanley had been unable to offer any suggestions or observations as to why anyone would want to hurt his daughter. Bones had commented that he didn't appear to notice much about her at all. Stanley Rhodes had all but thrown them out of his office at that. He had, however, promised to call his wife and interrupt her busy planning of her son's engagement party to ask if she had any ideas. After all, Vanessa Rhodes was the one who ran the house and her children, so if anyone would know, it would be her.
Stanley hadn't relished that call himself. No-one liked interrupting Vanessa when she was in full society hostess mode, least of all not him. It had taken a lot of persuasion to get their housekeeper to interrupt her meeting with the caterers to put her on. Now he had his very frosty wife, who he could just picture in her twin-set and pearls, on the other end of the phone.
"Why are you interrupting me Stanley?" she asked, "What could be so important that it can't wait ill dinner? I have the caterers here. We are discussing menus, for God's sake!"
"I had a visit from one of Rebecca's colleagues today," said Stanley, "It appears that Rebecca may be in some trouble in New York."
"That hardly surprises me," said Vanessa sharply, "I did tell her not to move there, but no, she wasn't having any of it."
"Vanessa," said Stanley warningly, "This is quite serious. It appears that it's to do with those mysterious deaths that were here in DC a few months past, before Rebecca moved to New York."
"What could those deaths possibly have to do with Rebecca?" asked his wife, "Aside from the fact she probably catalogued their bodies with Dr Brennan."
Stanley took a deep breath. "Vanessa," he said, "It looks like the killer followed Rebecca from DC to New York City. He attacked her yesterday and turned over her apartment last night."
His wife was finally silent for a few minutes.
"Vanessa?" he asked, "Are you still there?"
"Of course I am!" she said witheringly, "And who did you hear this from? Rebecca?"
"No, from Agent Booth," said Stanley, "He was advised of the events by Rebecca's boss, Detective Taylor."
"So what you're telling me is that Rebecca hasn't even had the good manners to call her parents and tell them she's being stalked by a serial killer?" said Vanessa coldly, "Which is just typical of our daughter, Stanley."
Privately, Stanley Rhodes thought that the real reason Rebecca wouldn't bother telling her parents was that her mother's reaction would be just as it had been. Selfish and self-centered and nothing to do with Rebecca's safety or feelings at all. He wished, as he did on so many occasions, that he hadn't been so absorbed in his career when she'd been a little girl. So he took the coward's way out.
"I expect you'll speak to her Vanessa," he said.
"Indeed I will," said Vanessa Rhodes, "Indeed I will."
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Rebecca was lying in Flack's arms, lazily drawing circles on his strong forearms, which held her close to him. She was, smiling as she even thought the silly sentence, basking in the afterglow. Points for trying, she thought, he was doing his damndest to make her forget the events of the last couple of days. They were both naked now, her underwear long since cast to the floor and posts of the bed. She snuggled in deeper, eliciting a chuckle from her handsome boyfriend, who tightened his arms.
"I'm glad," she said, "That we've got a few days off. Do we have to get out of bed."
"I hope not baby," said Flack, "But we do need to eat and answer the call of nature sometime. Remember who'll be investigating our deaths if we don't."
Rebecca gave a theatrical shudder and they both said one name in unison.
"Messer."
Flack laughed out loud. Just as Rebecca was turning herself around to face him, a cellphone started ringing. Flack's hand shot out to the nightstand to grab it, without thinking to check whose it was and he answered it with his typical "Flack," – short, sharp and to the point. Before his eyes met Rebecca's, who were looking at him, by now questioningly.
"Hi Mrs Rhodes," said Flack, in answer. Rebecca gave a groan and pulled the comforte over her head. Flack tugged it down just as quick.
"Honey," he said loudly, "It's your mom."
Rebecca glared at him in reply before taking the cell from him, almost immediately having to hold it at a distance from her ear as her mother decided to give her a piece of her mind.
Judging from the conversation, thought Flack, getting up from the bed and pulling on his jeans, Mommy Dearest had been appraised of the situation in New York and wasn't too happy about not hearing it from her daughter. He made his way into the bathroom to take care of business and dispose of a few little items, watching Rebecca pull herself into a sitting position and tuck the sheet around herself firmly.
"No mother," she was saying, "I really didn't want to bother you with this."
He watched her wince as her mother obviously started ranting again.
"Mother," said Rebecca pleadingly, "I know how busy you and Daddy are and everything is fine, honestly it is."
He watched as his girlfriend listened to what her mother had to say, before sitting bolt upright, a hard look on her face.
"No," she said firmly, "No mother, I am not coming home and I suggest you get that idea of sending Daddy and Harrison down here to collect me, as you put it, right out of your head. I am not leaving, I am not coming back. I wish you would all get that through your thick skulls. I have a life, a job and I am staying with my boyfriend, so butt out!"
Rebecca's face hardened as she listened to whatever else her mother had to say before she bit out a goodbye and snapped the phone shut on her mother in mid-rant, before turning the phone off and throwing it in the general direction of the window. It landed, fortunately without breaking.
"I take it Mommy dearest isn't best pleased with her only daughter?" said Flack teasingly. Rebecca shot him a very dirty look, before she climbed out of bed herself and headed into the bathroom, grabbing his dress shirt off the floor. Flack heard the door lock slide shut in response and he headed into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee.
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*****SMUT ALERT – NO MORE PLOT DEVELOPMENT FROM HERE ON IN! JUST PURE SMUT! BLAME THE MUSE! STOP NOW IF YOU DON'T LIKE MY SMUT! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!!!!*****
Flack finished his cup of coffee, looking admiringly at his girlfriend, sitting on a stool by the counter, sipping her coffee, which was in an oversized mug with a "Kiss the Detective" logo printed on it. Flack picked up his badge and handcuffs, which were sitting on the kitchen counter. Rebecca eyed them thoughtfully.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked.
Rebecca just smiled a small, secretive smile and took another sip of her coffee.
"You come up with a new fantasy yet, detective?" he asked.
"Maybe," she said, taking another long sip of her coffee and another sidelong glance at the handcuffs. Flack's grin widened.
"What is it about handcuffs with some women?" he mused out loud, "I mean, handcuffs? Hardly the most sexy of items?"
"I didn't notice you complaining," Rebecca replied, in a falsely coy voice, before taking a long slurp of her coffee.
Flack's mind went back to the night Rebecca had used a set on him so she could have her wicked way with him and his grin got even wider. And a dirty, dirty image came into his head. He shifted the cuffs from one hand to the other and a hard, lustful look came into his eyes.
Rebecca set her cup carefully down on the counter and slipped off her bar stool.
"Handcuffs and badge-carrying cops, mmmmm," she said, "It just screams, well, the possibilities."
And with that, she sauntered off towards the bedroom, with only one small tiny backwards glance at Flack, before she blew him a kiss.
Rebecca didn't make it to the bedroom.
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He caught her as she just made it to the couch in the lounge. He grabbed her, pulling her into him and bent her forwards.
"So you want me to go all cop on you?" he said roughly, "OK, I'll go all cop on you."
Rebecca protested slightly and tried to push herself upright, not entirely sure if she wanted things to go down this way. Flack's response was only to push her forwards again and grab her hands, pulling them behind her back with one hand, grabbing his cuffs with the other. Swiftly, he cuffed her hands behind her back.
"I won't hurt you, baby," he said, whispering into her ear, "If you really don't want this, then just tell me to stop and I promise I will. Do you want me to?"
Rebecca stilled for a second. And shook her head. Flack just smiled. He had her right where he wanted her.
The shirt had ridden up, revealing the lack of clothing underneath and he took a sharp intake of breath when he saw her bare beneath it. He swept his hand over the flesh, gently kneading it. He was rewarded with a little moan and Rebecca's hips gently moving back towards his. He swatted her ass lightly, just to remind her who was in charge and she stilled. He nudged one foot between hers, then added his other leg, spreading her legs wide.
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Rebecca couldn't quite believe this was happening. OK, so she could. But this was so much like one of her really dirty long-time fantasies – the really hot, strong guy, who was just going to have his wicked way with her. She just didn't want him to go all conscientious on her; she wanted him to see this through.
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Flack ran one hand from the front through to the back of her, smirking when he felt that she was already wet. So she's getting off on this, he thought, good. His hands went to the button of his jeans and his zipper as he stood straight, surveying the scene in front of him.
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She heard the snap of the button as he undid it, followed by the sound of metal, as the zip slid down the teeth of the zipper. She couldn't escape the sound that left her mouth, the gasp, as she knew what was coming.
Well, not entirely, as she felt his hand centre on her clit and his roughly stroking her into a frenzy, quickly, without any of his usual care and slow strokes, the ones he used to slowly build her into a quivering, begging mess. Then suddenly he stopped, grabbing her hips with both hands and he pushed into her without any warning. She cried out.
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God she was tight, without that much foreplay, but Jesus, she was so wet already. Flack had to stop moving right then and there, to catch his breath and get his control back. He'd thought it was going to be all over right then. Muttering a couple of verses of the national anthem, her grabbed her hips again and started to move, thrusting purposefully.
His fingers dug into her flesh harshly. He knew she was going to have bruises tomorrow, but he just didn't care. Judging from her response, as she tried to thrust her hips back towards him, she didn't care either.
He pounded into her roughly, each stroke taking him nearer completion. Dimly he realized that he wanted her to come as well and, almost at the point of no return, he pulled out of her, loosely hearing her moan of protest and he threw her over his shoulder, carrying her into their bedroom.
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As he flung her onto the bed, pulling her so her legs were dangling over the edge, Rebecca wasn't entirely sure what he had in mind, her hands still cuffed behind her back, her shoulders starting to ache slightly from the strain of her arms held back forcibly. But as he pulled her hips forwards, so her bottom was flush with the edge of the mattress and he knelt and bent his head, she knew exactly what he was about. And the part of her head that wasn't so totally, lustfully, lost in the moment, entirely loved that man for making sure she was just as satisfied as he was.
Until his mouth landed on her clit and with no preamble whatsoever, simply applied the strong sucking he usually reserved for later in proceedings. This Flack wasn't messing around. He wanted her to come, that much was true, but this was all about him. Her hips bucked right off the bed and into his mouth. She screamed. She understood then, this wasn't about her, it was about him. The orgasm was almost painful in its intensity.
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When he felt her come, Flack simply turned her over so she was flat on her stomach, pulling her hips up towards him and thrust back into her, setting a fast pace, that had her gasping and moaning. She was so wet and tight, he thought and he could feel her muscles still contracting all around him. She was bucking her hips into his every thrust and he thought he was going to explode just from the feel of it. He could feel himself get even harder and he groaned himself, thrusting just a little deeper into her.
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Jesus, thought Rebecca, this is so good. It was just and only just on the right side of pain for her and she really, really wanted to feel him let so this time. Part of her, while she loved the detective that cared for her in the bedroom, that totally wanted to please her, there was a part of her that just wanted this, to feel almost used. She could feel him getting even harder, as if that were possible, feel him getting slightly bigger and she heard him groan, knowing he felt it too. His hands tightened on her hips as he drove into her, getting almost impossibly faster and she felt the rhythm change, as he lost control entirely.
She heard the litany of profanities drop from his lips and she dropped her forehead to the bed, raising her hips in response.
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He couldn't contain it any longer; he thrust one last time and came, exploding into her, one tiny thought at the back of his head reminding him he'd forgotten to use anything. And part of him didn't care. He collapsed, onto her back, breathing heavily, whispering his thanks to her for trusting him that much.
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She felt the heat spill into her as he thrust that last time and she'd risen to meet it, welcoming all of him as he lost control. Nothing, she thought, could explain how she felt at that moment, how she relished the feeling of his giving all of that over to her. How incredible it felt. And she heard him saying thank you. She smiled.
He pulled himself upright after a couple of minutes, quickly un-cuffing her hands, rubbing her shoulders to ease the pain he knew she must be feeling. He winced at the red marks on her pale skin, round her wrists and on her hips, the teeth marks in her shoulders that he didn't even remember making. He was contrite and horrified at his loss of control.
Rebecca, wincing at the pain the movement caused, put her hands on his shoulders and shook him slightly.
"Stop it," she said, "Stop it Don, I didn't tell you to stop, did I?"
He looked into her eyes, seeing the still-blazing passion in them and his unease lessened slightly. She took his face in her hands and pressed a small kiss to his lips.
"I wanted that, I really did, couldn't you feel it?" she said. He nodded, still feeling guilty.
"You gave me all of you," she continued, "All of you. It was amazing and I'm not so sure I don't want that again, some other time."
She smiled at him, as she came to sit in his lap, the shirt mussed, but still on, his jeans around his ankles, him still in his t-shirt.
"Every time, Donnie," she said, "Every time we do this, however we do this, you just blow me away, because it's always with love. Always."
She kissed him deeply and he pulled her into a hug and thanked God again that she'd decided to move in down the hall. And he promised himself in that moment that whatever happened, he was never going to let her get away.
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Vanessa Rhodes was looking through the records of employment she had kept for the past twenty or so years for their house. They had had the same staff for a number of years. Their housekeeper and her sister kept the place in full running order, their family members helping out at dinner parties and functions. The housekeeper's husband tended to the cars and occasionally acted as driver. Vanessa might have been a royal bitch to many, but she knew the value of good staff and treated them well.
Turning to the page of the details of those she had let go, she spotted a name. Of a man she had had to let go after her mother-in-law's birthday party, some years ago, before her death. Rebecca had been posing for photographs, dressed in a regency style white dress, with ribbon around her neck and their new gardener, a man she had got a very bad feeling about had been hanging around. When she had caught the man, a few days later, on a ladder on the wrong side of the house she had had her worst suspicions confirmed. He had seemed unnaturally interested in Rebecca, she recalled. Rebecca hadn't noticed and to be honest, neither had she, until Harrison had mentioned it to her and so had the housekeeper.
Stanley had made a call to one of his friends, an FBI agent, the same man, in fact, who had gotten Rebecca the interview at Quantico, although he was an Assistant Director now, a call which had turned up some quite unsavory pieces of information about his past. They had let him go, but had no idea what had happened to him.
And now, it appeared, James Rushton was back.
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OK, so this was partly for the smut fans and also partly for Hopes4all, who wanted to know who this guy is. I would like to mention, at this point, that when I created Rebecca, I didn't think she would be this much a part of the action – seriously. I had no idea that she would end up being the center of the story in this way. It was just a moment that came to me a few weeks ago. I thought she and Flack would hook up and investigate several cases and then it would eventually go to …oh now that would be telling.
So feedback would be good, even if only to tell me you don't like the smut! Help me get to the magic 100 reviews LOL!
And Tinks, Spanky, Poppy, this was all for you guys! Xxx