A little rough sex never killed anyone

"You let me violate you, you let me desecrate you

you let me penetrate you, you let me complicate you."

-Closer, Nine Inch Nails

A/N:Let's suspend belief like on the show and assume autopsies and all this testing gets done in no more than a few hours. I have to laugh though and share a little story: My son has a 'big brother' who is a cop that we met at a torch run for the Special Olympics. Anyway, he knows I'm a huge CSI:NY fan and I guess he thinks I'm stupid or something, 'cause he had the nerve to tell me and I quote: "You realize it takes longer than ten seconds to pull up a finger print in the system and way longer to than 45 mins. to solve a case." Yeah. I know. Which is why I just watch the show instead of ever doing the job myself. Short attention span. Then I told him I really only watch it to see Flack and Mac and I have a cop fetish. He hasn't stopped blushing in a week. Anyhow, back to the action.

"Surprisingly enough, it wasn't the puncture wound that killed her."

Hawkes and Samantha stood on one side of the stainless steel autopsy table, listening and watching intently as Sid gave his expert conclusions on what had happened to Tamara Collins, who now lay before them, covered only in a blue surgical sheet, the top of the Y incision just poking out below her ghostly pale shoulders.

"While Dr. Hawkes was right, the wound was deep enough to cause significant damage to the carotid artery, it only caused her to bleed out. Your actual COD is a massive ischemic stroke..." Sid moved to a large high resolution computer screen and pointed out a dark, shaded area on a scan of the victim's brain. "because the carotid is the main artery that supplies the blood to the brain, when the wound was inflicted it caused both blood flow and oxygen flow to the brain to cease, causing the stroke. She bled out after death. A stroke that size, judging by the scan... she was dead within an hour, two tops."

"Which does not coincide with liver temp or levidity or rigor." Hawkes shook his head. "Just when you think you've got it figured out."

"I was able to estimate TOD sometime between midnight and three a.m. if that helps any." Sid said.

"That does go with what the super told Flack." Sam told Hawkes. "Sid, is there any plausible reason to why the liver temp would be lower than it should?"

"Most likely alcohol ingestion." he replied. "It would have to be far above legal limit. I already took the liberty of sending it up to the techs in tox. An the alcohol ingestion is a little bit of a stumpor for me considering she was with child."

"She was pregnant?" Hawkes asked.

Samantha just shook her head.

"Blood work and an obstetrical ultrasound confirmed it." Sid replied with a heavy sigh.

"Maybe she didn't know?" Sam offered.

"She was almost five months." Sid said. "Its highly unlikely she didn't."

"Any idea about the murder weapon" Hawkes asked.

"No clue." Sid replied. "But I did pull this..." he held out a small petri dish. "out of the wound. Looks like plastic."

"Same as the plastic we pulled from her at the scene." Hawkes observed.

"And I also noticed what looked like pen ink inside the wound." Sid added. "All of that, of course, is up to you two to find out. My best guess? You're looking for some kind of pen."

"Did we find a pen any where at the crime scene?" Hawkes asked Sam.

She shook her head. "Sexual assault?" she asked Sid.

"Positive." Sid replied. "I found substantial tearing to the vaginal wall and bruising to the inner thighs. I pulled a pubic hair sample and a semen sample and sent both to DNA. And here, is the clothing your victim was wearing." Sid handed Hawkes a brown paper bag.

"You're just right on the ball today." Hawkes said.

"I have to make a good impression." Sid smiled at Samantha. "Forgive me for saying this, but do you know who you look like?"

Sam shook her head.

"A mixture between Charlotte from Sex and the City and Jennifer Garner?" Hawkes suggested.

"Great minds do think a like." Sid declared.

"Hey Brooklyn!" Danny called out to the familiar face as she stepped off the elevator with Hawkes.

"I'll run this to trace..." Hawkes held up the petri dish. "and get started on our vic's clothes."

"I'll be there in a minute." Sam told him, then waited for Danny as he hurried up the stairs to catch up to her.

"Look at you." Danny said. 'Wearin' a badge and packin' heat. Ya swear you worked here or somethin'."

Sam grinned as they fell in step alongside of each other. "How's your Central Park stabbing coming?" she asked.

"Stella and I are running a couple leads but nothing substantial." he replied. "Heard about Mac goin' all Lieutenant Dan earlier."

"Who?"

"Lieutenent Dan. From Forrest Gump. Mac looks just like him. Haven't you ever seen that movie?"

"Yeah... but I don't really see the similarities."

"Looks just like him. Trust me. Look at Mac next time you talk to him. You'll see what I mean. So what was it all about?"

"I guess she was just upset that Mac told her to do a dumpster dive and she felt that it was the job of a new person." Sam explained. "Mac told her that he wanted me and Sheldon working on the apartment and her on the garbage and she got into it a bit with him. He put her in her place. And, from what I heard, she had a few choice words for me."

"To your face?" Danny asked.

"Are you nuts? I'll bitch slap her into the middle of next week. Where's Stella? I haven't seen her all morning."

"Runnin' around like a chicken with her head cut off as usual. Told me to tell ya you're the luckiest bitch ever born gettin' a first easy case like that. Said to meet her four o'clock in the lounge. She has some baklava with your name all over it. You're just Miss Popularity around here. Its like you've always been here."

"How did you people ever get along without the likes of me?" Sam teased.

"I was just thinking the same thing. Listen, seeing as we're on the same schedule and all, I was thinking maybe you'd like to do something this weekend. I play hoops with Flack and some other cops on Saturday morning but I'm free all afternoon. Ya want to check out a movie or just hang out?"

"What about Lindsay?"

"Don't worry about her. I'll handle her. We could maybe go down to Coney Island or hang out in Central Park. Whatever. You pick. Give us a chance to get to know each other better."

"Danny, I don't know if that's such a good idea..." she said reluctantly.

"Hey, I ain't asking ya to marry me. Just to hang out. As friends."

"Just friends?" she clarified.

He nodded. "That's it, I promise. No rushing anything else. Adam said you had some ex-guy issues and I ain't pushing ya into anything. Just friends. I swear. Scout's honor."

She frowned. "Were you ever even a scout, Danny?"

He grinned. "No." he admitted. "But I'm a man of my word."

"Okay... Saturday afternoon it is..."

"Great... I'll pick you up around one. You decide what you want to do. Anything. All right? I gotta run. Angell is waiting for me downstairs. Don't forget Stella."

"I won't." Sam assured him and then stopped by the reception desk to see if she had any messages while she was out.

"Excuse me, miss?" a soft voice from behind her asked. "Do you work here?"

Sam turned towards the voice. A pretty young woman with wavy auburn hair to the middle of her back, dressed stylishly in a pair of well tailored grey slacks and a soft yellow blouse stood before her. "I do." she replied. "Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for Mac Taylor's office. The receptionist has been on lunch for a hell of a long time and I'll get lost if I venture out on my own in this place. Think you point me in the right direction?"

"Actually, I was just on my way nearby and I'll take you there myself." Sam offered her hand. "I'm Detective Samantha Ross."

The young woman shook the hand warmly and smiled brightly. "I'm Carmen Devine." she said.

Mac had been in the midst of a conference call with Sinclair and Mayor Bloomberg. Sam didn't know what it was about and had no plans on asking him later. Judging by the look on his face - that I'm going to jump out this window any second - kind of look, the topic of conversation was not pleasant and it was only adding to the obviously crappy day he was having. He saw the two women in the doorway and politely asked Sam to take Miss Devine and keep her company in the lunch room until he was done.

"So how long have you worked here for?" Carmen asked, as they sat on a comfortable black faux leather couch in the break room, sipping bottled water Sam had stolen from someones supply in the staff fridge.

She liked the pretty little CSI. The girl was bright and bubbly and quick on the ball with witty one liners or a sarcastic comment. Her girl next door looks and aire of innocence and youth allowed her to pull it off without hurting anyone's feelings. She was obviously well educated and confident in herself and her job without being conceited. But Carmen knew, possessing those exact qualities herself, that behind the cuteness and sunshine, was a girl you just did not fuck with. And she also knew, if she was to get the job, they'd have a hell of a wild time together.

"For about..." Sam consulted her watch. "Oh I'd say, five hours."

"Seriously?" Carmen looked surprised. "You just seem like you've been around for a while. The way you mingle with everyone and vice versa."

"I embrace other people easily. Or so my horoscope keeps telling me. But then it also keeps telling me I'm going to come into a great fortune and it hasn't happened yet so how reliable could it be, right?"

Carmen laughed. This girl was just too much. In a good way. Yes, they'd have a hell of an amazing time together.

"I was a cop back in Arizona." Sam explained. "A CSI for the last two years and I was with ESU and K-9 before that."

"Arizona? But your accent seems so..."

"Brooklyn?" Sam finished and laughed. "It is. I'm originally from Brooklyn. My mom re-married when I was a teen and we uprooted to Arizona because my step dad worked for American Airlines out of Phoenix. But I always missed New York and for reasons that I won't burden you with, here I am. What about you? Where are you from?"

"Portland originally." Carmen sipped her water. "I came to New York to go to college and then on to the academy. You know, Danny Messer, obviously."

Sam nodded. "He's a great guy. He calls me Brooklyn."

"Danny's that type. He always makes up nick names for girls he has crushes on. In college, he always called me red. Its a little thing he does when he likes someone I guess. Any way, I went to college with him and then on to the academy. Unfortunately, we didn't get to graduate together. Unforeseen circumstances. And I left Portland for reasons that I won't burden you with. It would take all day."

"This place seems to attract us damsel in distress." Sam commented. "Don't worry, everyone is really nice here. Well, maybe not everyone."

"If you're talking about the little thing with the badly done Posh Spice hair cut, I know who you mean."

Sam laughed. "That would be the one. She's a real sweetheart all right."

"Tell me about it. I asked her where Mac's office was and she told me she didn't have time for that shit."

"She's a bitch. A true and total bitch. And I've worked with a lot of them. Trust me. But her..." Sam shook her head. "I've been told you get used to her. Only time will tell."

"What about the guys here? Any decent ones?"

'"Oh yeah..." Sam nodded, grinning broadly. "There's a few that are mighty fine."

"Hey, Sam!" Hawkes came rushing into the break room. "Sorry to interrupt... news on the case."

"Carmen Devine, this is Doctor Sheldon Hawkes." Sam introduced. "Sheldon, this is Carmen. She's here for an interview with Mac."

"Doctor?" Carmen asked, shaking his hand.

"I was once the pathologist here before I decided a career change was in order." Hawkes explained.

"We're an ecceletic bunch." Sam told Carmen. "What do you have Sheldon?"

"DNA just came back on semen and the pubic hair and it matches DNA pulled earlier off the clothes Lindsay found." Hawkes answered excitedly. "It was match to sample in the national database. The boyfriend. Tyler Manns. Arrested four years ago and did eighteen months for domestic assault. And get this. Flack found out that Tyler went AWOL from work for an hour around the same time as TOD. He's bringing him in right now and wants you to meet him downstairs in interrogation with your kit."

"With my kit?"

"Its what he said. And he told me if you're going to have a cell phone, remember to turn the damn thing on."

Sam unclipped the cell from her pants and looked at it. Three missed calls. She had mistakenly put it on silent. "Oooops" she said and turned it on. "That's my one allowed blond moment for the day."

"And there's more." Hawkes told her. "That plastic we pulled from the vic matches the plastic Sid gave us. Adam ran samples on it and this plastic is very specific to expensive high end office pens. Which leads me to the next thing. It was ink in the wound. GC/MS confirmed it. Our murder weapon is an eighty dollar fountain pen sold only in three stores in mid-town and one of those stores has Tyler Mann on its special customer list."

"You're awesome, Sheldon." Sam declared. Her cell phone rang. "Detective Ross." she answered. "Yeah... I know, I know. I'm a dumb ass... I'm sorry I insulted you earlier on your lack of intelligence... I'm on my way down... keep your goddamn pants on, Flack... you know, that's sexual harassment." she hung up and jumped up. "I gotta go. I'm sorry Carmen. I wish we could have talked longer. Tell you what..." she grabbed a napkin from another table and the pen from behind Hawkes' ear and scribbled something down. "Here's my cell and home number. Regardless of what happens, call me and we'll hook up."

"Sounds great." Carmen took the napkin. "Thanks for chatting with me."

"No problem. It was fun. Good luck. See ya, Hawkes!"

Carmen and Hawkes watched as she hurried out of the room.

"She's quite the fire cracker, huh?" Carmen commented.

"She's somethin' all right." Hawkes agreed.

Flack had Tyler Manns in the interrogation room by the time Sam got down stairs. He was pacing the floor like a caged lion while a nervous and petrified looking young man with his unruly blond hair and in a pair of Dockers and gawdy Hawaiian shirt nearly pissed himself whenever Flack came within five feet of him.

Tyler looked relieved when he saw a woman walk in.

Flack noticed and couldn't resist riding the kid a little bit more. "Don't get too excited," he said. "she's the mean one."

Sam sat her kit down on the ground and took a seat across from the suspect. Flack sat down beside her, a stack of case folders and a pad of paper and a pen in front of him.

"This is Detective Ross." Flack said. "She's from the crime lab and she's hear to prevent me from kicking your ass."

Tyler shook nervously. "W... w... why am I here?" he stammered.

"You're here because of her." Flack pulled an autopsy picture from the top folder and slapped it down on the table for the kid to see. "Remember her? Tamara Collins? Your girlfriend? I know she might be a little hard to recognize seein' she's all dead like that."

Tyler flipped the photo over, face down, with shaky hands. "Why are you showing me that? What's wrong with you?'

"You don't seem too choked about the fact your girlfriend was murdered." Flack continued. "My boys having to pick you up in the golf course, tippin' back a few. Usually when you commit murder, especially when its your girlfriend, you feel a little bad about it afterwards."

"I told you this morning... I don't know what happened to Tamara."

"Well let me tell you something, Tyler. You're lying. About a whole lot of things actually."

"Look... I have no idea what..."

Flack slammed both hands down on the table. "Cut the shit, kid!" he yelled. "This morning you told me that you were at work the entire night. The security bar on the back of your access card shows me that you swiped in at ten thirty and back out again at one a.m. You didn't come back for an hour!"

"I went on a break." Tyler said.

"Where'd you go?" Sam asked. The calm, composed one.

"Down the street. All night coffee shop. I just didn't see a reason to tell you all that."

"You see anyone there?" Flack asked. "Talk to anyone that can vouch for you?"

"The cashier was the only one there."

"We want the name of that coffee shop." Sam said.

"Yeah.. of course..."

"Now we ge to the biggest lie," Flack said. "The one where you kept saying you had nothing to do with this. Why'd you kill her Tyler?"

"What...?"

"Detective Ross here is a scientist. She has all these crazy, high end tests that confirm to me what I already knew. One, you're a liar. Two, you're a murderer. So let's start with the fact that your hair, pubic and other wide, were found on Tamara's body. Along with your semen inside of her that matches perfectly to the DNA sample in the national data base for when you got collared for knocking someone around a bit. And I bet you that if we run your print against one we found at the scene, that's gonna match to. your skin was under her fingernails. So what happened? She tell you about the baby and you freaked out 'cause you're not ready for that? She fight back? Get a little violent?"

"No!" Tyler aruged. "It wasn't like that! We loved eachother. We wanted the baby!"

Flack was pacing again, this time along the wall behind Tyler Manns chair. "So?" he asked. "You kill her just for the hell of it?"

"I didn't kill her!" Tyler insisted.

Sam removed another photo from the file and slid it across the table. "These are your clothes, Tyler." she said calmly. "And that's your girlfriend's blood on them. We found them and a pair of bloody running shoes in your building's incinerator."

"I have no idea how they got there." he said.

Flack leaned over the kid's shoulder, his face mere inches away from Tyler's. "Maybe its because you killed your pregnant girlfriend and then dumped the clothes. Listen to me. Your hair. Your semen. Your skin under her nails. Now your clothes with her blood on them. Why don't you start telling us why you did it."

"I didn't do it."

"Then you gotta a hell of a lot of explaining to do, kid." Flack said and returned to his seat. Leaning back, he put his hands behind his head and his feet on the table. "And we've got all after noon to wait for you to get your head out of your ass and start doing just that."

"Look..." Tyler sighed heavily. "I can explain the hair and the semen and my skin. We had sex. And Tamara... she liked it rough. Real rough. She was into the really crazy, kinky stuff. You know like..."

"We don't need those kinds of details." Sam interrupted. "Tell us how the skin got under her nails."

"I can show you." Tyler said to Flack. "My back... want me to show you?"

Flack looked at Sam. She nodded.

"Get up." Flack instructed, standing up and going around to the back of Tyler's chair and yanking it away from the table.

Tyler stood up slowly.

"Take off your shirt." Sam said.

He stared at her. Then looked at Flack.

"Just do what she says." Flack told him.

Tyler cleared his throat noisily. Embarrassed.

"What?" Sam asked."Are you shy? Trust me kid, you don't have anything I haven't seen before."

Tyler sighed and pulled off his shirt to show them his back. Fairly fresh, deep red gouges across the skin.

Sam opened her kit and grabbed a pair of gloves and swab. She snapped on the gloves and Tyler's eyes widened. "I promise this won't hurt." she assured him.

Tyler looked at Flack. "Do I really have to?" he asked.

"Buddy, just be thankful she didn't tell you to drop your pants and cough." Flack replied.

Sam swabbed the scratch marks and motioned for the kid to put his shirt back on.

"Give us the name of that donut shop." Flack said and grabbed the pen and paper and slapped them down in front of Tyler.

The kid nodded and started writing.

"Detective Ross and I are going to check out this place." Flack told him. "We're also gonna see if your girlfriend's DNA is in those wounds." he gathered up his papers. "In the meantime, make yourself comfortable. You'll be here a while."

"Where do you keep your fountain pen, Tyler?" Sam asked fro the door. "The expensive one."

"In the desk in the den. Top drawer, left side. Why?"

She didn't answer as Flack opened the door.

"It was just rough sex." Tyler called to them. "I mean, rough sex never killed anyone."

Flack shook his head and closed the door as he and Sam stepped out into the hallway.

"Do you believe him?" Flack asked.

"He's right about the rough sex. It doesn't kill anyone. I mean, I'm still here and I'm a huge fan of it.

Flack smirked. "I'm going to try to pretend I never heard that."

"Why? May come in useful for you soon." she couldn't resist the urge to tighten and straighten his tie.

"You're going to be the death of me, aren't you." Flack said.

"Maybe... but at least you'll go happy." she turned to walk away.

"So what are you going to do now?" he asked.

"I'm going to go back to the crime scene." she replied.

"What am I suppose to do?" he inquired.

"Drive me."

He smiled.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Don. And while you're at it, take me out to lunch. I'm no good to you if I'm starving and wasting away." she headed down the hall.

He stood watching her, hands on his hips.

"Are you coming or not?" she asked.

Flack shook his head. "You're something else, you know that?"

She smiled. "Is that a complaint. Come on. I'm starving here. If you're a good boy, dessert's on me."

"Woman, why is it every thing you say I turn it into something perverted?" he asked.

"Maybe because I meant that comment to be pervert."

They stared at each other down that hallway. The look passed between them could burn bridges.

"Are you coming or not?" she asked and turned and walked away.

"I'm right behind you." he said.

Thanks to Aphina for the crime!

ENJOY!