Emily (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2006-11-08 03:10 pm
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2006-11-08 03:10 pm
Mac - Coulda Woulda Shoulda (1/7)
i had no idea how hard this would be until i started it. because it so incredibly difficult to keep a person in character, but then again you're not really sure who the character would be if things hadn't gone the way they had. but this has interested me quite a bit, and i'm determined to finish it, but i have a feeling that this is going to be an--interesting project to say the least.
not to mention i could have lived if i didn't have to start it right now.
Fandom: CSI:NY
Title: Chicago
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
iluvroadrunner6
Rating: FRT
Pairing: none, gen.
Prompt: N/A
Content Warning: N/A
Summary: How would things be different if one thing was changed?
Author's Note: This is an idea that came about when I saw a community based on ten "what if?" kinds of questions. It wasn't exactly this particular idea, but my kind of take on it. This chapter is "What if Mac never came to New York from Chicago?"
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of CSI:NY. They're owned by CBS. However any and all original characters are mine, so please do not use them without my permission.
Detective Mac Taylor of the Chicago Police Department walked briskly across Central Park towards the crime scene. Harry Jacobs had alluded him for the weeks now, and he had been this close to actually getting him back in cuffs and back to Chicago. But when Mac had heard that they had found his body in Central Park over the news, he had practically flown across town to get to the scene. He had been to the city enough times with Claire to know his way around, and a crime scene is not hard to find. He placed his hand on the crime scene tape and was prepared to duck under when a uniform stepped in front of him.
“Sir, I’m sorry, but this is a crime scene.”
“I’m aware of that,” Mac replied, holding up his badge, “Detective Mac Taylor, Chicago PD. Your dead body is my murder suspect.”
“Still, sir, unless I have clearance from—” the uniform began again, until he was cut off by a thick Yonkers accent from behind them.
“I got it, Mullvaney.” Mac glanced over and saw a tall, good-looking man in a suit heading towards them, notebook in hand, “You the guy from CPD?”
“Mac Taylor,” Mac replied, extending his hand to the other man.
“Don Flack, NYPD Homicide,” Flack shook his hand as he picked up the tape and gestured the man under it, “Body was found about two hours ago by a woman walking her dog. She recognized his face from the news broadcasts and called it in. Unfortunately the media also got wind of this as well, so while you guys process, I have to hold back the hounds.” Mac smiled, before they finally reached the two CSIs already processing the scene.
“These are Detectives Danny Messer and Aiden Burn,” Flack introduced, “Guys, this is Detective Mac Taylor from Chicago. He’s handling the case with you guys.” He shot them both a meaningful look before continuing, “Now remember you two. Play nice.”
“C’mon Flack,” the one woman grinned. She had long dark hair, and a giant smile that let you know that while she was being pleasant right then, the next the next words out of their mouth could very clearly tear you down, “When do I ever not play nice?”
Flack gave her a smirk, “Sure, Aiden. Whatever you say. Stella’s on her way but she’s stuck in traffic.”
“I’m sure she’s going to be thrilled about Chicago here when she arrives,” the blond man commented, adjusting the glasses on his face and shooting a smirk Aiden’s way.
“It’s Detective Taylor,” Mac corrected, and the man looked at him, blinked at him for a second, before turning back to the body.
“Of course, Detective,” he said with a grin.
“Now that was what Flack meant about playing nice, Danny,” Aiden commented, before leaning over the body with the camera and getting a few shots.
“What have you got so far?” Mac asked.
“He took what looks like two shots to the chest with what could be a nine-mill,” Danny said, “Most likely cause of death, but I’ll wait for the ME to confirm.”
Aiden got up from her crouched position and started glancing around the scene, “I guess me and Rex will cover the perimeter once he gets here, and the three of you can handle the body?”
“You do realize that you are the only one who calls Shepard ‘Rex’?” Danny said, looking up at her with a smirk.
“Is there a problem with addressing a person by his given name, Messer?” Aiden replied.
“Nah,” Danny grinned, “Just find it funny is all.”
Mac just watched the exchange out of curiosity. He didn’t know if it was the New York in them, but he didn’t see this kind of—banter, for lack of a better word—between his detectives in Chicago. New Yorkers had always been known for their snark, but he didn’t expect anything like he was seeing there. It was—interesting. And he felt slightly out of his element. They worked in silence for a few moments, focused intently on their work before:
“Have I mentioned that I hate Manhattan traffic?” a irritated female voice came from over his shoulder and Mac turned to see a pair of flashing green eyes standing behind him, and a man standing behind her, looking as though he had been walking on eggshells the whole way here.
“Stella,” Danny grinned, “Nice to see you made it. This is—”
“Chicago?” she finished for him, and Mac saw the grin the crossed Danny’s face.
“Detective Mac Taylor,” Mac replied, extending his hand to the woman. The man reached around her at that point and gave the older detective his best grin.
“Detective Rex Shepard.” Mac shook the man’s hand, but ‘Stella’ glared at him over her shoulder and the grin on his face faded. “Ya know what, I’m gonna go help Aiden.”
“You do that,” Stella replied, and Rex headed over to where the dark-haired detective was standing. She then turned back to Mac, “Stella Bonasera. Look, I know you want in on this case, and that’s understandable. But there’s a couple things you gotta understand. This is my jurisdiction, my crime scene, and my team. So you try and go over my head in any way, your ass will be on the next plane back to Chicago before you could even blink. We clear?”
“Perfectly,” Mac replied through thin lips. He was hoping that he would get slightly more cooperation from that end of the team, but it seemed that things weren’t meant to work that way. Detective Bonasera was apparently as headstrong as the supervisor of the labs claimed she was, and Mac had no interest on getting on her bad side.”
“Good,” Stella replied, giving him a slightly warmer smile before continuing, “Alright, what have we got?”
***
“What have we got, Hawkes?” Stella said as she walked into the morgue, Mac barely able to keep up with her. The woman moved like a person with a mission, and Mac didn’t want to be the one standing between her and the thing that really pissed her off.
Mac watched as the black man looked up from the corpse and gave Stella a warm smile. “Vic’s name is Harold Jacobs, which you already knew,” Hawkes began, before noticing the man standing at Stella’s side, “You must be Detective Taylor?”
Mac nodded and Hawkes extended his hand to him, “Doctor Sheldon Hawkes. Nice to meet you.” Mac nodded again.
“What was the cause of death?”
“Exsanguination due to multiple gun shot wounds to the chest, both of which were through and throughs,” Hawkes replied, “There was also some blunt force trauma ante-mortem to the chest and stomach area.”
“Indicating that he was most likely beaten,” Stella finished for him and Hawkes nodded.
“Also, the angle of the wound tracts suggests that he was shot from someone below him,” he continued, “Have a look at this. If Harry Jacobs was shot head on while he was standing, the angle would been straight through. Instead—” He picked up two yellow colored rods, and inserted them through the wound tracks, showing the steep angle that they had formed. “So the person who shot him was either much shorter than he was, or under him.”
“Or above him,” Mac commented before Stella could speak, “You said the bruises were consistent with a beating, what if he was beaten to the ground and then he was shot? It explains the angles of the shots as well as the defensive wounds.”
“That is, indeed, a possibility,” Hawkes commented, before continuing, “Because I also found skin under the fingernails that I was about to send up to DNA.” He held out the envelope containing the samples, and Mac took it from his hand.
“I’ll take it,” he began, before turning to Stella, “If you don’t mind.”
“Be my guest,” Stella replied, before watching Mac walk out ahead of her before turning to Hawkes.
“Chicago’s pretty sharp,” Hawkes commented, and Stella nodded.
“You could say that.”
***
A few days of running on little to no sleep they had finally managed to track down the guy who fit the evidence. Once they had him in custody, it was a matter of who was going into the interrogation room.
“Flack and I got this,” Stella sighed, nodding towards the younger detective and shooting Mac a look that silenced him before he could protest, “I have a feeling that this guy will be more cooperative if it’s just us locals dealing with him.”
The two people disappeared into the interrogation room, and Mac noticed as Danny walked up next to him, the ever present smirk still on his face.
“I am impressed, Detective Taylor,” he said, and Mac gave him a look.
“And why would that be, Detective Messer?”
“You ain’t even been here a week,” Danny sighed, “And Stella’s already got you whipped.”
Mac shot him a withering look, but the smirk didn’t fade, “Just making an observation, Chicago.”
Mac rolled his eyes before turning back to the scene in front of him.
“—You beat Harry Jacobs to a bloody pulp, and then you shot him twice in the chest,” Stella was saying to the perp, “Your DNA was under his fingernails, and you even spit on his chest when you were done.”
“Maybe I did, alright?” the man shouted, “So what? The man was a Goddamn psychopath, you guys should be handing me a medal.”
“Oh, yeah,” Flack said, nodding eagerly, “Let’s throw a tickertape parade for a murderer; that’s a great example to teach our children.”
“The man was a serial rapist and a killer,” the man continued to rage, “What was I supposed to do? Let him continue to roam the streets and start attacking people out here?”
“Coulda called the police?” Stella suggested, “Ya ever think of that?”
The man sat back and scoffed, “Oh yeah, that’s a great idea. Let me call the New York’s Bravest and tell them, hey, a serial rapist from Chicago is in Central Park, I can totally take care of the situation, but let me let you guys hike across the traffic and get here fifteen minutes later after he’s already gone.” The man rolled his eyes, “Even if you had gotten there in time, he probably would have been out walking the streets on bail an hour later because you stupid idiots wouldn’t have ‘the evidence necessary to hold him.’ The whole legal system is a bunch of bullshit!”
Mac saw the way Flack’s shoulders tensed and how he started to lean forward. He knew the perp probably didn’t see the soft brush of Stella’s hand against the man’s arm, telling him to stand down. There was one thing about Stella, though. She knew her people, and she knew how to handle them.
“Well we got you,” Stella replied, before leaning back in her chair with a smirk, “That’s saying something isn’t it.”
***
“This was a very interesting experience working with you, Detective Taylor,” Stella replied, giving the man a soft smile as they stood in the bullpen of the precinct.
“Indeed it was, Detective Bonasera,” he replied, “One that I hope we are not forced to repeat under these circumstances.”
“I agree,” Stella nodded, “Have a safe flight.”
“Good luck getting home,” Mac replied, “I hear New York City traffic can be murder.”
Stella laughed before flashing him a smile and shaking her head, “You really have no idea.”
Part 2: Star Light, Star Bright
not to mention i could have lived if i didn't have to start it right now.
Fandom: CSI:NY
Title: Chicago
Author:
iluvroadrunner6Rating: FRT
Pairing: none, gen.
Prompt: N/A
Content Warning: N/A
Summary: How would things be different if one thing was changed?
Author's Note: This is an idea that came about when I saw a community based on ten "what if?" kinds of questions. It wasn't exactly this particular idea, but my kind of take on it. This chapter is "What if Mac never came to New York from Chicago?"
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of CSI:NY. They're owned by CBS. However any and all original characters are mine, so please do not use them without my permission.
Detective Mac Taylor of the Chicago Police Department walked briskly across Central Park towards the crime scene. Harry Jacobs had alluded him for the weeks now, and he had been this close to actually getting him back in cuffs and back to Chicago. But when Mac had heard that they had found his body in Central Park over the news, he had practically flown across town to get to the scene. He had been to the city enough times with Claire to know his way around, and a crime scene is not hard to find. He placed his hand on the crime scene tape and was prepared to duck under when a uniform stepped in front of him.
“Sir, I’m sorry, but this is a crime scene.”
“I’m aware of that,” Mac replied, holding up his badge, “Detective Mac Taylor, Chicago PD. Your dead body is my murder suspect.”
“Still, sir, unless I have clearance from—” the uniform began again, until he was cut off by a thick Yonkers accent from behind them.
“I got it, Mullvaney.” Mac glanced over and saw a tall, good-looking man in a suit heading towards them, notebook in hand, “You the guy from CPD?”
“Mac Taylor,” Mac replied, extending his hand to the other man.
“Don Flack, NYPD Homicide,” Flack shook his hand as he picked up the tape and gestured the man under it, “Body was found about two hours ago by a woman walking her dog. She recognized his face from the news broadcasts and called it in. Unfortunately the media also got wind of this as well, so while you guys process, I have to hold back the hounds.” Mac smiled, before they finally reached the two CSIs already processing the scene.
“These are Detectives Danny Messer and Aiden Burn,” Flack introduced, “Guys, this is Detective Mac Taylor from Chicago. He’s handling the case with you guys.” He shot them both a meaningful look before continuing, “Now remember you two. Play nice.”
“C’mon Flack,” the one woman grinned. She had long dark hair, and a giant smile that let you know that while she was being pleasant right then, the next the next words out of their mouth could very clearly tear you down, “When do I ever not play nice?”
Flack gave her a smirk, “Sure, Aiden. Whatever you say. Stella’s on her way but she’s stuck in traffic.”
“I’m sure she’s going to be thrilled about Chicago here when she arrives,” the blond man commented, adjusting the glasses on his face and shooting a smirk Aiden’s way.
“It’s Detective Taylor,” Mac corrected, and the man looked at him, blinked at him for a second, before turning back to the body.
“Of course, Detective,” he said with a grin.
“Now that was what Flack meant about playing nice, Danny,” Aiden commented, before leaning over the body with the camera and getting a few shots.
“What have you got so far?” Mac asked.
“He took what looks like two shots to the chest with what could be a nine-mill,” Danny said, “Most likely cause of death, but I’ll wait for the ME to confirm.”
Aiden got up from her crouched position and started glancing around the scene, “I guess me and Rex will cover the perimeter once he gets here, and the three of you can handle the body?”
“You do realize that you are the only one who calls Shepard ‘Rex’?” Danny said, looking up at her with a smirk.
“Is there a problem with addressing a person by his given name, Messer?” Aiden replied.
“Nah,” Danny grinned, “Just find it funny is all.”
Mac just watched the exchange out of curiosity. He didn’t know if it was the New York in them, but he didn’t see this kind of—banter, for lack of a better word—between his detectives in Chicago. New Yorkers had always been known for their snark, but he didn’t expect anything like he was seeing there. It was—interesting. And he felt slightly out of his element. They worked in silence for a few moments, focused intently on their work before:
“Have I mentioned that I hate Manhattan traffic?” a irritated female voice came from over his shoulder and Mac turned to see a pair of flashing green eyes standing behind him, and a man standing behind her, looking as though he had been walking on eggshells the whole way here.
“Stella,” Danny grinned, “Nice to see you made it. This is—”
“Chicago?” she finished for him, and Mac saw the grin the crossed Danny’s face.
“Detective Mac Taylor,” Mac replied, extending his hand to the woman. The man reached around her at that point and gave the older detective his best grin.
“Detective Rex Shepard.” Mac shook the man’s hand, but ‘Stella’ glared at him over her shoulder and the grin on his face faded. “Ya know what, I’m gonna go help Aiden.”
“You do that,” Stella replied, and Rex headed over to where the dark-haired detective was standing. She then turned back to Mac, “Stella Bonasera. Look, I know you want in on this case, and that’s understandable. But there’s a couple things you gotta understand. This is my jurisdiction, my crime scene, and my team. So you try and go over my head in any way, your ass will be on the next plane back to Chicago before you could even blink. We clear?”
“Perfectly,” Mac replied through thin lips. He was hoping that he would get slightly more cooperation from that end of the team, but it seemed that things weren’t meant to work that way. Detective Bonasera was apparently as headstrong as the supervisor of the labs claimed she was, and Mac had no interest on getting on her bad side.”
“Good,” Stella replied, giving him a slightly warmer smile before continuing, “Alright, what have we got?”
***
“What have we got, Hawkes?” Stella said as she walked into the morgue, Mac barely able to keep up with her. The woman moved like a person with a mission, and Mac didn’t want to be the one standing between her and the thing that really pissed her off.
Mac watched as the black man looked up from the corpse and gave Stella a warm smile. “Vic’s name is Harold Jacobs, which you already knew,” Hawkes began, before noticing the man standing at Stella’s side, “You must be Detective Taylor?”
Mac nodded and Hawkes extended his hand to him, “Doctor Sheldon Hawkes. Nice to meet you.” Mac nodded again.
“What was the cause of death?”
“Exsanguination due to multiple gun shot wounds to the chest, both of which were through and throughs,” Hawkes replied, “There was also some blunt force trauma ante-mortem to the chest and stomach area.”
“Indicating that he was most likely beaten,” Stella finished for him and Hawkes nodded.
“Also, the angle of the wound tracts suggests that he was shot from someone below him,” he continued, “Have a look at this. If Harry Jacobs was shot head on while he was standing, the angle would been straight through. Instead—” He picked up two yellow colored rods, and inserted them through the wound tracks, showing the steep angle that they had formed. “So the person who shot him was either much shorter than he was, or under him.”
“Or above him,” Mac commented before Stella could speak, “You said the bruises were consistent with a beating, what if he was beaten to the ground and then he was shot? It explains the angles of the shots as well as the defensive wounds.”
“That is, indeed, a possibility,” Hawkes commented, before continuing, “Because I also found skin under the fingernails that I was about to send up to DNA.” He held out the envelope containing the samples, and Mac took it from his hand.
“I’ll take it,” he began, before turning to Stella, “If you don’t mind.”
“Be my guest,” Stella replied, before watching Mac walk out ahead of her before turning to Hawkes.
“Chicago’s pretty sharp,” Hawkes commented, and Stella nodded.
“You could say that.”
***
A few days of running on little to no sleep they had finally managed to track down the guy who fit the evidence. Once they had him in custody, it was a matter of who was going into the interrogation room.
“Flack and I got this,” Stella sighed, nodding towards the younger detective and shooting Mac a look that silenced him before he could protest, “I have a feeling that this guy will be more cooperative if it’s just us locals dealing with him.”
The two people disappeared into the interrogation room, and Mac noticed as Danny walked up next to him, the ever present smirk still on his face.
“I am impressed, Detective Taylor,” he said, and Mac gave him a look.
“And why would that be, Detective Messer?”
“You ain’t even been here a week,” Danny sighed, “And Stella’s already got you whipped.”
Mac shot him a withering look, but the smirk didn’t fade, “Just making an observation, Chicago.”
Mac rolled his eyes before turning back to the scene in front of him.
“—You beat Harry Jacobs to a bloody pulp, and then you shot him twice in the chest,” Stella was saying to the perp, “Your DNA was under his fingernails, and you even spit on his chest when you were done.”
“Maybe I did, alright?” the man shouted, “So what? The man was a Goddamn psychopath, you guys should be handing me a medal.”
“Oh, yeah,” Flack said, nodding eagerly, “Let’s throw a tickertape parade for a murderer; that’s a great example to teach our children.”
“The man was a serial rapist and a killer,” the man continued to rage, “What was I supposed to do? Let him continue to roam the streets and start attacking people out here?”
“Coulda called the police?” Stella suggested, “Ya ever think of that?”
The man sat back and scoffed, “Oh yeah, that’s a great idea. Let me call the New York’s Bravest and tell them, hey, a serial rapist from Chicago is in Central Park, I can totally take care of the situation, but let me let you guys hike across the traffic and get here fifteen minutes later after he’s already gone.” The man rolled his eyes, “Even if you had gotten there in time, he probably would have been out walking the streets on bail an hour later because you stupid idiots wouldn’t have ‘the evidence necessary to hold him.’ The whole legal system is a bunch of bullshit!”
Mac saw the way Flack’s shoulders tensed and how he started to lean forward. He knew the perp probably didn’t see the soft brush of Stella’s hand against the man’s arm, telling him to stand down. There was one thing about Stella, though. She knew her people, and she knew how to handle them.
“Well we got you,” Stella replied, before leaning back in her chair with a smirk, “That’s saying something isn’t it.”
***
“This was a very interesting experience working with you, Detective Taylor,” Stella replied, giving the man a soft smile as they stood in the bullpen of the precinct.
“Indeed it was, Detective Bonasera,” he replied, “One that I hope we are not forced to repeat under these circumstances.”
“I agree,” Stella nodded, “Have a safe flight.”
“Good luck getting home,” Mac replied, “I hear New York City traffic can be murder.”
Stella laughed before flashing him a smile and shaking her head, “You really have no idea.”
Part 2: Star Light, Star Bright
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but i'm glad this worked so far. i'm happy with the way it came out. it flowed really well.
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Rex? LOL. They certainly have a thing for unusual names in any CSI universe, so he'd fit right in, I think.
I'm definitely going to look out for the other parts.
~ sera
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i'm glad you liked it.
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