Fine Here
by Gail (gem225@hotmail.com)
crossover between CSI: Miami and JAG
Rating: none
Ryan Wolfe encounters someone he really would have been better not encountering.
Disclaimer: The characters herein portrayed do not belong to me, and I make no profit from this story.
Please do not archive this story without asking me first. It's more than likely that I'll agree, but I want to know where my stories are.
Warning: character death
For carolinecrane, who wanted to see this particular character die *eg* Tinnean beta'd, and I thank her for it. She's the best.
*****
Delko snapped shut the phone and pocketed it.
"Ryan."
"Yeah?"
"Can you handle this on your own? H just called. There's another crime scene he needs me to process."
"Go. I'm fine here."
Ryan smiled to himself as Delko left. Yeah, he was fine. He didn't need Delko's help to process this crime scene.
He'd finished bagging the living room - violent murder, but no blood at the scene, somehow they'd have to find where the man was killed - and was on his last trip taking the evidence out to the car when he felt a breath of wind and turned. The man standing right in front of him was no one he knew - thin, dark-haired, and intense. He swallowed and wished that Delko hadn't left after all.
"Mr. Wolfe. Do yourself a favor and back off."
How had this man known his name? Wait, no, that was the wrong question. The right one was: would H let himself be intimidated like this? And the answer was no, he wouldn't.
Ryan straightened his spine and glared at the man. "I'm an officer of the law. A CSI."
The man smiled with something Ryan didn't like seeing at all, but he didn't know what it was. "Yes, you are." He reached a long arm and Ryan's phone was gone. "And you're a stupid fuck. Do they teach you anything in CSI school these days? Doesn't matter. Either get a brain and hand over this evidence or I'll ditch it for you."
Who was this guy? "I don't hand over evidence to non-CSI personnel." He gave the man his best 'back off' stare.
"Got it."
For a moment Ryan thought he'd gotten the man to give up, then the man smiled again, and Ryan didn't like seeing that smile any more than the other one. "Get in the car."
Why did he think he'd do that... oh, the gun he had pointing at him. When did he come up with that? He'd been a cop; he should have seen the guy pull the gun.
This guy was fast.
"Car. Now."
Ryan swallowed and got in the car. He needed to stay aware, he reminded himself. The man would have to move to get in the car too, and that would be his chance.
Then he felt a prick in his neck. "That'll take care of you. Goodbye, Mr. Wolfe."
"But..."
"You had your chance. You blew it."
He could feel the car start up, but he couldn't move, and everything was going black.
This was what it felt like to die.
The thought he clung to was that Horatio would find out what had happened to him.
*****
Clark Palmer hooked his legs around the legs of the barstool, sipped his beer, and went over his mental checklist. Possibly incriminating evidence obtained and disposed of, check. Wolfe dead, check. Car where he'd made sure of that ditched in the Everglades, check. Wolfe's body in bed with the conveniently-in-Florida Harmon Rabb and looking like the two had been fucking when Wolfe died of a 'heart attack' and an anonymous tip called in to the local police to get them over to find Wolfe's body before Rabb could pull any stunt to get out of it, check. The people of the CSI unit of Miami-Dade confused as all hell, check.
Horatio Caine would keep looking into the death of Wolfe - no way to stop him, he was a terrier with no off switch - but he'd find nothing new.
Too bad he hadn't been able to plant evidence as well to make it look like Rabb had killed Wolfe. That would have been sweet. But you couldn't have everything.
The End
Posted 10/31/05
