Disclaimer: I don't own CSI: NY.
Series: None.
Spoilers: Wasted.
Chapter Fourteen – Wasted
The second Jess was called to a fashion show, the case sparked a flame in her memory, but she'd need more details to figure out why.
It also made her realise that the media were going to be hell on this one.
And they were.
When she arrived, several uniformed officers were trying to get crime scene tape up, all strenuously trying to ignore the cameras being shoved at the victim.
Fleetingly, Jess found herself thinking of Officer Wilson, who she'd always been able to count on to keep a cool head at crime scenes. God, I hope she joins the force again this time.
Trying to keep her own temper, she whistled sharply, getting the reporters' attention.
"Detective! Any word on …"
"What is …?"
"Will the agency be investigated?"
Rolling her eyes, Jess whistled again, even louder this time, gaining some appreciative glances from the officers. "At this moment in time, I don't know anything and that's not going to change if you don't stop contaminating this crime scene! A young woman has just dropped dead on a catwalk; her dignity has been ripped enough without you piranhas exploiting it further. Now would you please move aside and let us do our jobs, before I have to arrest you all for obstructing the course of justice."
Thankfully, they all seemed to recognise that it wasn't an idle threat and moved back, letting Jess approach the young woman. She knelt at her side, making the observations that could help jog her memory. Mac, Danny and Hawkes, she knew, were already here, somewhere, and she wouldn't have been surprised if they had journeyed backstage, not to process, but to avoid the media.
For once, she didn't need to check ID or ask for one; even as ignorant of the fashion world as she was, she knew who Serena Portinova was.
"Poor girl." She murmured, pulling a pair of gloves from her pocket. Slipping one on, she gently closed Serena's eyes.
She'd only started carrying gloves since she fell back, since she could suddenly remember where evidence was. And it was easier than prodding things through a hanky.
As she ran her eyes over the skimpy bathing suit the model was wearing, Jess suddenly realised that it was painted on. That, in turn, led to the realisation that Don had never told her about this case; she'd read about it.
Heart thudding, she swiped her finger through the green paint, smelling it cautiously. "That's not paint." She murmured.
"What is it?" Mac asked, making her jump.
"Dammit, how do you do that?" Jess grumbled, straightening up. "It's ecstasy hidden in paint." She told him, under her breath, her eyes darting around for any microphones or cameras that might have been left when the reporters backed off.
There were none.
"You're sure?" Mac asked in the same tone.
Jess nodded. "There was a huge smuggling ring; you missed the bust, because they'd already moved the supply out. You got one of the smugglers on murder, but that's it." She led him backstage into the dressing room, her eyes scanning the ground. "There's another body." She murmured. "But it'll look weird if we find her."
"Evidence could be lost." Mac warned.
"You didn't know there was another body the first time." Jess reminded him. "It'll be fine."
"Hey." Danny greeted, approaching them.
Jess glanced over her shoulder. "Did you beat me here?"
"Musta done." Danny shrugged. "C'mon, Angell; all these models?"
"I hate models." Jess muttered. "What'd you find?"
Danny held up the paint tin in his hand. "See that?" He pointed to the edge. "Blood. And I noticed a cut on the back of Serena's neck."
"Wasn't COD." Jess told him quietly. "She died of an overdose; the paint. Bag it anyway though."
"Telling me how to do my job?" Danny asked with a grin, slipping the tin into a bag. "Should we get the rest of the paint?"
"No." Jess smirked. "See anything odd, guys?"
Mac and Danny both stared at the table. "No."
"Those boxes carry a dozen tins." Hawkes answered from behind her. "There's a dozen full cans there, including the one Danny just bagged, but Serena's covered in the same colour. Just arrived." He explained, when Jess glanced at him. "Took a look at the victim; she didn't die from blunt force trauma."
"Someone replaced the cans." Mac concluded. "We need to get the body back to the lab and test the paint. And we need to find out where the paint came from."
"I'll make some calls." Jess smirked. "You'll want to check all the vehicles in case someone stashed the tainted paint on-site."
"Why the vehicles?" Danny asked with a frown, but Mac caught Jess's eye and nodded, catching on to her unspoken statement; they now had reason to be able to find that second body.
Jess stared through the mirror at the man sitting at the interrogation table. "He walked in, dropped a gun on your desk and told you he murdered his doctor?"
"Yeah." Don frowned. "How's your day been?"
"I just shut down a nation-wide ecstasy smuggling ring." Jess answered absently. "So pretty damn good."
Don chuckled. "I want that story later. I ever say anything about this guy?"
"Give me a minute." Jess frowned and held her hand out.
Without prompting, Don handed her the crime scene photos and she flicked through them, stopping when she saw leeches all over the victim's body. "I think you did, yeah … he's covering for someone …" She sighed. "I just don't remember who, sorry."
Don sighed. "Yeah, I kinda guessed that. But breaking up an ecstasy ring; that beats cutting our case time in half."
Jess smiled. "Yeah, you missed it last time. Speaking of drug busts, you been paying attention?"
"You know I have." Don assured her. "You got a more precise time frame?"
Jess closed her eyes and did the math. "Erm … May-ish. Give it a month either side for accuracy."
"So … I have a three month period, average of a three drug busts a week …" Don raised an eyebrow. "Thanks; that really narrows it down."
"You don't lead all those busts." Jess pointed out with a grin.
"True." Don admitted. "So who," he continued, turning back to his original problem, "would he cover for to the extent of going away for life?"
"He's dying." Jess responded. "Maybe whoever really killed her has a long life ahead of them."
"Why the leeches?" Don questioned.
"She was moonlighting as an alternative healer." Jess remembered.
"Don't doubt that." Don frowned. "Apparently it's quite common. But that didn't answer the question."
"Some people believe that leeches suck the badness out with the blood." Jess explained with a grin. "Although, for most people, that belief went out with theory that a toad on the head could cure the flu."
Don shook his head. "Crazy."
Jess shrugged. "Hey, I'm with you. But if you're desperate enough …"
"You might pay a lot of money for a cure." Don finished, a familiar glint appearing in his eyes. "Thanks, Jess; I got a hunch." He reached the door of the observation room and stopped, turning to face her. "Jess?"
"Uh huh?" Jess glanced over.
"Can we talk later?" Don asked.
Is he nervous? "Yeah, of course. My place or yours?"
"Mine." Don answered after a short pause. "After shift, yeah?"
Jess nodded, saving her frown for after the door had swung shut. She'd never seen him nervous before.
That evening, Jess stood outside Don's apartment, her heart thudding in her chest so loud she was certain all of Manhattan could hear it.
Once again, she knocked, rather than let herself in.
"You can just use the key, you know." Don told her, when the door was shut behind her. "Me casa es tu casa and so on."
Jess grinned. "Well, you sounded pretty serious earlier. What's up?"
Don gestured to the couch and she sat down, but, rather than sitting next to her, as he normally did, he sat down on his coffee table so he was facing her. "I … I don't really know where to start."
"Okay …" Jess said quietly. "Why don't we start with your case? Who was he covering for?"
"His wife." Don answered. "You were right; they'd lost all their money because Rachel Jefferies promised them she could cure him, only to find out that he was still sick."
"Damn." Jess muttered.
"But I didn't wanna talk about that." Don took a deep breath. "You scare me."
Jess raised an eyebrow. "How so?"
"Commitment scares me." Don admitted. "A lot, okay? And … even though I'm pretty sure how I feel about you now, I got this mental block that's keeping me from admitting it … to myself, never mind you. And I just don't think it's fair on you to wait around for me to get over that, but … the one thing that scares me more than this is the thought of losing you."
By the time he'd finished, he was addressing his knees rather than her face and Jess felt her heart break a little, realising just how much this was getting to him. "Don …" She tilted his chin up with a finger. "I don't see it as 'waiting around'. I love you."
Don grasped her hand gently. "Why doesn't the wait bother you?"
"It did to start with." Jess admitted, tugging his hand so he moved to sit next to her. "When I first woke up, I was so confused and shaken that I just wanted some form of familiarity and, yes, I just wanted us to be normal again … at least, normal the way I remembered it. But now … I'm actually glad that didn't happen."
Seeing his confused expression, she sighed, trying to figure out how best to put her thoughts into words. "I don't know when I fell in love with you the first time round. I didn't admit it to myself until we'd been dating at least four months. I knew I'd been falling for you, but … the thought of falling in love scared me as much as it does you. For the sake of argument, let's assume that I fell in love with you when we started dating. That's three and a half years after we met this time and there's a lot that happened in those three and a half years."
"I'm different?" Don guessed.
"Not dramatically." Jess assured him. "I just know you well enough to notice the differences. The point is, if we hadn't waited, it would've been like … cheating on you with you."
"I don't follow." Don frowned.
Jess sighed. "It … This makes sense in my head, Don; I swear. The guy I left behind is only minutely different from you, but that still wouldn't make it right for me to pretend you were him, even if you are the same person. Does that make sense?"
"No." Don pinched the bridge of his nose. "And you're giving me a headache."
"Welcome to my world." Jess shrugged. "I've been dealing with this tenfold since I got here. And it's only gonna get worse; come August, I'm gonna have the worst sense of déjà vu. Put it this way, in the time you asked for and the space I gave you, I've fallen in love with you all over again." She leaned against him and he wrapped an arm around her waist. "So take all the time you need, Detective. Because I'm not going anywhere."
AN: First of all, drama and action scenes aren't my strong point and I don't pretend that they are, so you'll just have to imagine the drug bust. Besides, let's face it, we're here for Flangell right?
On saying that, I know that Jess's explanation at the end a) seems disjointed and b) doesn't make a lot of sense, but she did the impossible; it's not always going to be possible for her to explain what's going on in her head. Yeah, Don wasn't that different, but the bomb would have changed him, even if just a little bit, and if they'd immediately started dating, she would've been clinging to the last thing that seemed to make sense and she'd have been trying to pretend he was still the Don she left behind, which he wasn't. That could have seriously damaged their relationship and, since I don't like writing angst, I didn't want that to happen. So, if you're wondering why I didn't get them together straight away, that's my main reasoning.
So Don and Jess, for the record, aren't dating yet, but they are pretty damn close. Should be within the next few chapters. I'm going away on Saturday – week with no internet – but I might get another chapter up beforehand … it all depends on if you review or not XD