Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, premises of or anything to do with the television show, CSI. I make no financial gain from the production of this twisted tale.
Rated T for Teen: Scenes of graphic violence, adult situations and themes and coarse language.
Warning: While this story is very much case/action oriented...there is some slight implied femeslash. Nothing to worry yourself over, barely noticeable. If, however, the idea of two women flirting and maybe getting to first base horrifies you, please stop reading.
There's also some light WC, Warrick-Catherine, action. A little bit of flirting, little bit of angst and a lot of hard thinking.
Spoiler Warning: The following fic includes spoilers for all CSI episodes up to the season 6 finale, Way to Go. If, for whatever reason, you've yet to see this episode, and don't want to have it ruined for you, stop reading and wait until later. Trust me, I'll still be here...waiting by the computer wondering when you're going to come back...You know you will.
Author's Note: Part I of III: Angels of Vegas.
This fic picks up during the last half of Way to Go and moves on from there. All right, while I usually focus on the lovely Sara and/or Sofia, and occasionally Catherine; this time around, Warrick Brown shall also be playing a big role. This fic is going to deal with a Warrick-Sara friendship among other things, but this IS NOT a Sara/Warrick Romance...I don't even pretend to understand those... I'll already go ahead and apologize for any Warrick OOC-ness, I rarely write Warrick, so this shall be interesting.
I'm sort of changing up my style this time around. As I said before, this is more action driven then anything else. I switch POVs, but it should be easy to tell who is who... Mostly we see everything from either third person or Warrick's POV, though there are some moments soley dedicated to Sara, Sofia and Catherine... If something doesn't make sense or is confusing, too general, blah blah blah, please tell me so I can fix it...It all makes sense to me in my head and I'm working sans-beta reader here, people.
This is only the first part of a three part series...one will flow into another and while this story is kind of light of the ladies, the next story will be all about them...I just have to lay the foundation here...not that this story isn't awesome in it's own right, cause it is.
As always, reviews are not only appreciated, they are celebrated by small 'happy dances' that make my room mates think I'm crazy. I love constructive criticism and good suggestions or points often worm their way into the story and my writing style. I am always looking to correct errors and mistakes...though at this point I think me trying to improve my spelling is battle that I can not win. Probably need to find a beta reader...
Character owchies ahead!
Now, I'm done yakking, go read!
Angels of Vegas
Part I of III
Harper Tennyson kicked the back door open, she wouldn't usually do this, but both of her arms were weighted down with large bags of garbage. She tossed the two sacks into the dumpster and looked around. "Meli? Meli, you out here?" The only answer o her inquiry was the butt of a cigarette, so fresh that it's tip was still glowing a sluggish red color. "Damn it to Hell and back again! She jumps my ass about efficiency and then leaves me to close the shift by myself! Bitch!" The disgruntled woman growled out a few more offensive and colorful phrases and then turned to go back inside. The sickly yellow of the old security light made the familiar corporate coffee shop logo on the back of her shirt glow.
Harper, for all of her bluster and show, never saw the struggling form of her assistant manager in the shadows just beyond the dumpster. She was far too concerned with counting her tips up to notice that Meli had been in the clutches of a deadly killer.
Meli looked around frantically. She'd been thrown in the back of some old SUV. It smelled so bad. She didn't know where she was...who he was...what was going on! When the old truck creaked to a stop, her heart leapt to her throat. The latch opened and she started begging...something she used to think was beneath her. "Please, mister, please. I'll give you anything. Just don't kill me! My dad has money! I have money! I'll do anything, please!" Her hands and feet were tied together, she struggled, trying to free herself as she spoke. "You really don't want to hurt me!" He reached in and grabbed her shirt. He pulled her out of the back and she looked around. The stars above, the sand bellow, they were in the desert. Though it was dark, she could make out shapes around her, large gargantuan figures. Suddenly ninth grade came back to her and the absurd thought of 'This was how Gulliver must have felt when he was on the island with the giant people' skated across her panicked mind. The man walked with her thrown over his shoulder, her pleas, though close to his head, fell on deaf ears.
"Please, mister, I'll do anything...please don't kill me! I don't want to die!" He reached a shack and put her down just inside the ramshackle door. Tears streamed down her face. He bent down and wiped them. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you...I'm going to make you an Angel."
The look in his eye was vacant and crazed. Melody Wendell screamed, a high pitched terror filled shriek as she realized that yes, no matter what she said or did...he was going to kill her. Just like in space, though, in the middle of the desert, no one could hear you scream.
Author's Note: This Prologue is dedicated to the very special person who plied her evil charms and had me dismissed from my job.