Mark Hoffman
He drove her back to the station. Will was no longer sulking nor pointedly ignoring him like that morning. He wished she would. Instead, her face was haunted as she stared straight ahead.
He had expected her to accost him with probing questions about what happened with Gibson. He had braced himself to relay a story to her to discredit the rookie. He had not expected to see her go into shock.
The victim had resembled her, as did the previous bodies that Rosello left them. This was exactly why he had not intended to leave her alone at the crime scene. He had tried to protect her from seeing Rosello's work for as long as he could, especially because the fucker was getting more creative in his own twisted way.
And she treated him like the bad guy, as if he didn't have her best interests at heart. She had proven to him that she did not give a damn about her own well-being, so he was going to assume that responsibility. He needed to explain this to her. He wanted her to understand.
All he could do was drive her away. Make her hate him. They were getting too close and Rosello was starting to notice. This was for her own good.
And then that fucking junkie came out of nowhere, complicating things. He had to go save some idiot who couldn't maintain positive control of his fucking weapon.
Will seemed to be fond of the kid. He didn't like the shrimp much but he wasn't going to just let one of their own get shot with his own gun. He taught him a valuable lesson. Shoot first. Because those fucks certainly would if given the chance. Besides, it was always good to have someone inside of the task force that owed him. Big.
They returned to the station as though they had just left a funeral, solemn and bleak. He kept watching her from behind, following her as she walked up the stairs and to their desks. She hesitated and when he followed her gaze he felt fresh anger shoot up his throat. He tightened his hands into fists, squeezing hard.
Red roses, tons of them, were arranged in a vase on her desk. It took up most of the real estate. She approached them with a healthy skepticism, walking around her desk and taking in the bouquet. An envelope was nestled in between the flowers. To Red. He recognized the handwriting and instinctively grabbed her wrist when she reached for the paper.
They stood there, ignoring the men walking by who cast curious glances. Some even looked like they were amused. It must have been a funny sight, him standing there like a fool with his partner looking pissed over a flashy romantic gesture. Fucking perfect.
She turned on him. "What do you think you're doing?" There was fresh anger in those orange eyes, full of distrust at him.
"Careful. You don't know what he did to them."
"How did they get here?" She sounded accusatory and she jerked her wrist out of his grasp. He let her go, shame burning his neck and cheeks.
"I don't know."
"Yeah," she nodded, wary and disbelieving. "I don't know anymore either." She took the envelope, breaking the seal and pulling out the note.
And then he saw something quickly crawl over the sleeve of her shirt. Something shapely. Black and shiny. With long pointed legs. He slapped at it without thinking.
"What the fuck, Mark!" She snapped but he pushed her back hard. She flew backward and stumbled.
"Get the fuck back!" He grabbed the phone on his desk and slammed it hard on the creature. He heard the pop and crush, pulling back to see gelatinous goo and curled spider legs. There was a hint of red and he turned to her. "Black widow spiders."
"What-," and then she gasped and pointed at her desk. He turned again, seeing another with its bright red hourglass shining up at him like a bullseye. He slammed downwards with his phone, not caring if he broke it.
"Holy shit!" One of the nearby detectives had witnessed the action and upon approaching closer, saw the arachnids. More were starting to come out of the vase, crawling over the roses and down the sides of the glass. On their desks.
Another voice yelled out in the distance, but he didn't register over the pounding of his pulse in his head.
He kept killing them. He heard Will and other people behind him, shooing curious onlookers away.
"Mark!" Will's voice called him and he felt her tug at his suspenders from behind, pulling him back. "We're evacuating. Grissom's orders."
Steven Sing
One minute, he was fetching coffee for Tapp and himself. He was listening to the radio, hearing the latest scores for the Patriots and the Steelers' game. He was thrilled to hear the Steelers were winning, having been born and raised in Pittsburgh until he went to college.
And then, the next thing he knew, he was being rushed out of the break room to the sound of screams and panic. Someone had pulled the fire alarm. But word passed around in the hallway that this wasn't some fire.
Apparently, there were spiders? He didn't know it was Halloween. Last he checked, it was December. He was just glad he had kept his coat on when he joined the crowd in the winter air. He balanced a coffee mug in each hand, planning on still making his delivery despite the melodrama of the day.
They all mustered outside, everyone cold and shivering. He walked by Internal Affairs Division, looking for Homicides to muster with Grissom. Sipping his steaming cup and gingerly pushing through his colleagues, he finally recognized some friendly faces.
There was some shouting in one section of the parking lot where he got a glimpse of his partner and Matthews, who were observing some commotion. As he got closer the yelling grew until he realized it was Maddox and Hoffman having a loud disagreement in front of the entire department.
Well, this can't be good.
He raised an eyebrow when he saw Maddox shove upwards angrily at Hoffman, not quite pushing him but the effort was obvious. He grabbed her wrists and looked ready to shake her.
"Hey!" He called out and held out his occupied hand. "Maddox, I've got that coffee you wanted!" Completely random, but it worked. The two of them stopped to turn their heads in confusion, staring at him as he beamed back. "Remember?" He held out the spare cup, "You wanted us to talk shop once I got back. You ready to get to work?"
He watched as she jerked her wrists out of Hoffman's grip, though he held onto one of them until Matthews appeared and put a hand on the big guy's shoulders. Good on you, Eric. The two needed to be separated before they ended up causing a scene and getting the entire division screwed.
Maddox didn't say anything as she brushed by him and stormed in one direction. He played it off as he stayed close to her heels, lazily sipping his joe in between strides until they were as far from their muster location. They could still see and hear their supervisor when he finally showed up, glasses fogged and cheeks red with rage. Turning from Grissom, Sing studied Maddox. Her breathing was erratic, shown by the clouds pouring past her lips as she fumed.
"Here. This will help." He held out the cup. "Better drink it fast, it's already lukewarm." She took it, avoiding his eyes. He knew she was crying but he pretended to not notice. He continued noisily slurping coffee and exchanged glances with Tapp. Matthews had pulled Hoffman in the opposite direction they had gone, a cigarette in his mouth while talking to his friend.
He noticed her shoulders were twitching, her head bowed in shame. There were curious stares all around them, probably gawking at the soap opera unfolding. She finally took a drink. "Thanks, Steven."
"Any time, Mad Max."
She let out a huff. "You too?"
He smirked. "What? It's not the worst nickname Eric has come up with."
"Uh-huh." She had thrown a glance back in her partner's direction, pain in her face. "You know, Tapp already got a visual on us. We could probably go to lunch until all this blows over. Though it sounds like we need an exterminator?"
She shook her head, looking back at the station's doors. "Rosello sent poisonous spiders our way." She swallowed. "Unfucking believable. And it's all my fault. That's what everyone's going to say."
He bit his lip. "Technically, I think they're venomous." She blinked, looked at him carefully, and punched him in the arm hard. He couldn't help it. He laughed, his arm stinging.
"I never knew you were such a pain."
"Yeah, well, I'm still pretty new. Come on, let's go to the Grill. I need some poutine and I think you need to take the rest of the day off." He knew it wasn't the time or place to bring in all the other shit that was going on. The latest victims would be a lot to unpack over lunch, if she was ready to hear all that.
"You know, that sounds perfect right now." Newfound fury in her voice, she threw back the last of the coffee. "Yeah. Let's get out of here. I'm fucking done with today. I'm fucking done with everything." She kept looking over at Hoffman, like a forlorn puppy dog.
He nodded, taking the ceramic mug from her hands and passing them to the nearest rookie. "Sweet. You wanna drive?"
He had been counting on her cheering up at this. "Yes."
She was an absolute terror on the road. He thought his mother was nuts, often putting mascara on while steering with her knees on the highway. But Maddox, thankfully, had her hands on the wheel while whizzing in between cars and narrow alleys like water siphoning through rocks.
He also learned that she liked to talk when she was angry. He had not expected her to just unload but here they were, and there was a lot to absorb.
"And can you believe that he thinks it's my fault because I should have just judo flipped Frank day one? Can you?" She turned to him as she stopped at a redlight, sighing while inching the car on the back bumper of the vehicle in front of them.
"Definitely a dick move." Sing kept his eyes straight ahead, so he could witness his own death directly if this was the day. "I don't know Hoffman too well but it doesn't surprise me. He kind of comes off as a bit of a black and white kind of guy."
"Really." She floored it when the lights went green, going around the car in front of them before the driver knew what happened. "Even after this shit? With Rosello?"
"Honestly?" He gasped when she sharply turned, the wheels squealing as they spun around the corner on black ice. She managed to not go off the curb and returned to her lane. "Yeah!" He had flinched when she finally slid into a parking spot, their journey finally over. His heart was racing and he trembled as he got out of the car.
"Well, he's a hypocrite."
"Nobody's perfect, Maddox," Sing wanted to kiss the concrete but kept his composure as they walked to the restaurant. "But we did warn you about him."
"Yep. You did. I didn't listen." She pulled her red curls back, nostrils flared. "I guess this is just what I deserve."
"Well now," Sing held the door open for her and she let him, "When I first came onto the force, I wouldn't have trusted Hoffman as far as I could throw him. But I wouldn't discount your judgment. You've always stood up for him. What happened back there? If you don't mind me asking."
They found a corner table, out of the way but with a good view of the interior. A waitress already left them drinks and menus.
"Well." She bit her lip, "I know he's reporting everything he knows to Rosello. And someone had to bring that - fucking bouquet of spiders on my desk. I just assumed it was him."
"Wasn't he with you all day?"
"Yes." She sounded begrudging. Embarrassed. "I realized that. Just now." She pressed her fingers against her temples and let out a low groan. "Can today just get any better than it already has?"
Sing nodded sympathetically. "Long day?"
"Well, considering that I've been kept in the dark on recent events pertaining to this case? And the fact that the latest victim I examined this morning was wearing my mother's earrings while my partner is being a pain in the ass, I'd say it's been a lot to chew."
Sing whistled low. "So the cat's out of the bag."
"Yeah. Oh, thanks for that, by the way. Appreciate not being informed that Rosello has explicitly been murdering all of my doppelgangers in the city."
"Well, it's not just you he's been basing his victims on. There was the triple homicide last week. But most of the victims were redheads."
"Please. Just tell me straight. I'm so sick of not being trusted to handle this."
"It's not that we don't trust you, Maddox," Sing leaned forward, whispering, "it's literally the opposite. We don't want you forced off the task force. Grissom's not liking this one bit. He's worried you're going to end up in one of the fridges down in the basement with all the others. Tapp has had to pull some weight to keep the women onboard. You, Ally, and Perez are targets to this creep. The guy's not just a misogynist. He's depraved. And he's now got you on his most wanted list. It's why we're suddenly having self-defense training."
The waitress appeared, pausing from the conversation. "I can come back later?"
"No, it's fine." Sing turned to her. "I'll have the swiss melt and poutine."
"Tuna salad sandwich."
The waitress nodded, taking their menus and retreating. He craved a beer. Maybe next time. He and Maddox had a long night ahead of them for their shift for Angelina Hoffman's patrol.
The silence felt uncomfortable and she spoke up first. "I think I should reach out to Rosello."
This made him widen his eyes. "That's risky. Too risky."
"Yeah. But we need to get this asshole. I could wear a wire. Just take him on his offer. Invite him out to dinner."
"Slow down," He let out a small laugh, hoping she was joking. "Take a breath, Will. If you go rushing it, there's going to be mistakes. Things can go downhill real quick." A part of him wanted more than anything to take the plunge with her. But it was Tapp's voice that kept him still.
"Don't go doing something foolish, now, Sing."
Eyebrows knotted with fury, she let out a heavy breath, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, taking one between her lips while offering him another. She lit up and took a low drag.
He took one, letting her light one for him. It was just one of those days. "Didn't know you smoked."
"Quit when I married Frank. Been hanging around too much with Matthews these days. Decided life's too short and been shit lately." She was already blowing plumes and flicking ash into their table's ashtray.
"First things, first, let's eat. We can't go take down this kingpin on empty stomachs." Maddox had that fire that Tapp had burning inside him. It was that kind of fire that did a lot of good most of the time. But sometimes, if there wasn't someone around to help them remember to keep themselves under control, it would burn them.
And that was what Sing was good at. Keeping fires under control. He was the level-headed one.
He just hoped these next few weeks he'd be able to keep his own head on straight.
