The Journal of CSI_Sanders1129

“Ben.” Riley called, glaring pointedly at the back of his partner-in-crime’s head as they walked through the streets of DC. Ben was rambling on about the Bonus Army who had set up camp at Anacostia Flats, just across from the Capitol, in 1932. The rant went uninterrupted. “Ben.” Still nothing by way of response. “Ben!”

The elder wheeled around to face him. “What, Riley?”

“I just thought you might want to know that those guys? The ones we ‘lost’ three streets back? Are standing right in front of us.” He’d spotted the two thuggish goons out to interrupt their latest attempt at treasure hunting-protecting-locating-whatever a while back, but his less than aware companion had not listened and now they were running out of yardage between them and the bad guys.

Ben hummed. “Oh.”

“Oh, that’s it?” The younger scoffed incredulously, as they rounded down an alley. “Just ‘oh’?”

“Did you have a better suggestion, Riley? I’m all ears.” He mused, frowning when the alley they had wandered down turned not into an exit to the next street, but rather to a dead-end of a brick wall.

“How about ‘Oh, crap!’ or ‘Oh, no. We’re both going to be killed!’ or ‘Oh, my god, what do we do now!?’” Riley suggested, just as their shadows appeared at the mouth of the alleyway. “Ben, Oh, my god, what do we do now!?”

The metallic glint of guns was quite the worrisome addition to the already problematic situation.

“You already said that one.”

“I know.” Riley gulped. “I was kind of hoping for an answer.”

Edited Date: 2010-01-17 07:38 pm (UTC)

From:

Again, I am unfamiliar with the fandom, but feel that you portray the characters and the situation well enough (and in so few words), that I get a real feel for what is happening and who is involved. I really like the end - made me laugh and I particularly enjoyed: "...their shadows appeared at the mouth of the alleyway." I just like the picture that paints in my mind.

From:

trikcster.livejournal.com

This was awesome. I can't believe how well you managed to write the two of them in character in such a few words. Especially Riley, he was being his adorkable self.

And this would seem like a great way to start a longer fic! [<-- Not a subtle hint whatsoever. xD]

From:

whatyoulove.livejournal.com

How about some Tallahassee/Columbus? (if that is out of reason, then Jaspin)

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They’d been in Albany, New York when the cavalry had arrived, or at least that had been their group’s first impression upon seeing the duo of tanks approaching their hideout. Whether it was the Army or some private group of survivors, it didn’t really matter much.

Tallahassee had been apprehensive of the newcomers, Columbus and the girls a little less so about running into civilization again for the first time since Bill Murray.

The captain – Lansing, he called himself – claimed that there was a refugee camp not far away. Attica Correctional Facility had been cleaned out – of both inmates and zombie, and in some cases, zombie inmates – and was now being used as a stronghold. Even Tallahassee had to agree that it was a damn good place to establish a camp.

So, they went.

It turned out to be a lot more like prison than they’d expected. They were searched, upon entering. Checked for bites so that a zombie infestation didn’t start behind the high cement walls. Their supplies – what they didn’t leave hidden outside, was confiscated and added to the group supply. The girls were sent to one side of the building and the boys off to another. Their room was a cell. They had guard shifts and cafeteria shifts and training sessions. It was all very regimented and organized.

They all supposed it had to be that way, for sanity’s sake.

But Tallahassee didn’t like it.

They split him and Columbus up, assigned to different cell blocks based on age (though Little Rock and Wichita were allowed to stay together since they were sisters). While Tallahassee had come into the zombie apocalypse with the intention of not trusting anyone, he trusted Ohio and damn it all if that bastard Lansing thought he was changing that. If the girls wanted to stay behind, they could, but he couldn’t take any more of this. So, he bailed on his watch session and headed over to where Columbus was working in the cafeteria.

“C’mon, spitfuck, we’re getting out of here.”

From:

whatyoulove.livejournal.com

Awesome! I love the idea (surely there were other survivors) and no way would Tallahassee take that crap. And of course he takes Columbus when he goes. :)

From:

Tallahasse and Columbus in this movie. I know the end of the flick was all about the four of them building a family unit but the relationship that stood out to me was between the two guys. Yeah, I don't see Tallahasse being under anyone else's command, he can take care of himself just fine, thank you very much. The one thing he can't do anymore though is be by himself and the only person he HAS to have is Columbus.

From:

This was an exciting read. Even though I am not at all familiar with the fandom, I found that I wasn't lost at all and got a feel for the characters as well as their situation. Good writing.

From:

The honor of writing me a speciality of the house fic ie Jaspin?

From:

He’s been waiting up for Spinelli for hours now, he’s about ready to send out search parties if he doesn’t hear something soon. It’s at half past three that the door creaks open and a muddy and wet and possibly bloody Spinelli slips into the dark of the penthouse. Michael is just behind him, looking similarly disheveled. It is clear that neither expects to be watched.

“Where were you?” Jason demands, launching himself off the couch. He bypasses Michael and goes straight for Spinelli who looks rather worse for wear.

“The Jackal, ugh,” Spinelli starts, sounding exhausted even with just those few words. “That is, Young Michael and I ended up in a bit of a, ugh, muddy, situation with some of his fellow classmates. Namely one Kiefer Bauer.”

Stone Cold eyes narrow. “What happened?” This question is directed not at Spinelli, but rather Michael. Only one of them is prone to fits of potential violence, and it is most definitely not the Ace of Cyberspace.

Michael frowns, his hands shoved deep into his jeans pockets – hiding bloodied knuckles, Jason would hazard to guess. “Hey! He jumped me! I was only defending myself. Then Spinelli showed up and things might have gotten a little out of control, but it was nothing I couldn’t handle, Uncle Jason.” He shrugs the whole thing off, as if it had been no big deal.

Spinelli looks hardly as at ease as Michael, which prompts Jason into further interrogation. “That what happened?” Jason asks his grasshopper.

The hacker bites his lip, glancing sharply at Michael. “Not… entirely.” He admits, which causes Michael to glare and scoff. “He neglected the mention the presence of his opponent’s knife, and also that Kiefer was not the instigator of the attack. It, as it appeared to the Jackal, seemed rather… unprovoked.”

“You’re lying!” Michael protests, pointing an accusatory finger at Spinelli (and, indeed, bloodied knuckles are revealed). “He pulled the knife on me first, I just fought back. I’m no coward; I don’t run from fights like you do.”

Jason watches them argue, trying to sort out the facts for himself.

“I was not running from the scuffle, rather trying to get you out of it before anything occurred that either you or your opponent would soon regret.” Spinelli counters, which gives Jason pause. Spinelli had gone running into a knife fight to keep Michael out of trouble? When had that’s started?

“And look what it got you! I was doing fine on my own!”

“Stop. Enough.” Jason declares, once again turning to Spinelli at the potentially alarming words. “What does he mean ‘what it got you’?”

Edited Date: 2010-01-18 02:01 am (UTC)

From:

I like how this starts with Jason being worried about Spinelli and then escalates into an intense situation with Michael thrown into the mix. There is mounting tension which you build so very well by leaving out bits and pieces of the information as Michael and Spinelli fill Jason in on what happen and yet clearly leave some things out. Great cliffhanger as well.

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Spinelli rolls up the bottom of his dark blue hoodie to reveal a stark white bandage on his side. “Kiefer and Young Michael might have been struggling over the knife when I attempted to intervene.” He reports. “It’s not that bad, really, it just required a couple of stitches at the behest of the medically inclined ones.”

“Which one of them was it, Spinelli?”

Silence is all the answer Jason needs. His anger channels itself toward the other occupant of his living room as a result. The one who doesn’t belong there.

Michael, looking all kinds of insulted and betrayed – both by his Uncle’s lack of faith in his story and by Spinelli’s tattling – scoffs again, folds his arms over his chest. “It was Kiefer!”

“I don’t believe you.” Jason responds cooly, still standing beside Spinelli.

“But, Jason, it was just…”

The elder shakes his head. “You could have killed someone, Michael. Spinelli or Kiefer. You would have been in jail and I wouldn’t be protecting you this time.” Especially if it had been Spinelli, but he doesn’t say that.

The teen glares in rebellion at the speech. “He’s fine! Kiefer’s fine, unfortunately, too! What’s the big deal?”

“Just leave, Michael. I’ll call Carly about this in the morning. Maybe the police, too.” He threatens, and ushers Spinelli upstairs before any more protests can come his way. He hears the door slam when Michael leaves as he helps Spinelli struggle out of his muddy, bloody and soaked hoodie.

Spinelli falters as he heads for the bathroom to clean up. “Was it wise to threaten police involvement?” He asks. “The Jackal assumed that you would want to avoid such things.” It was why he had involved himself in the first place. After all the drama with Claudia’s murder and Franco’s evidence, it seemed like the last thing they’d need.

“I’m not taking any chances,” Jason assures him, eyes drawn to the stark white bandage. “That’s not happening ever again.”

From:

Seriously, I am so angry with the way Jason is just all about Michael and there sits Spinelli quietly doing everything in his power to help him be all about Michael. I want to cry out on his behalf, "What about me, don't I count, don't I matter?" Then of course I want the answer to be an unqualified, unadorned, "Yes, you bet you do!"

That is what this story accomplished. Jason showed his primary concern for Spinelli. He trusted Spinelli NOT Michael to tell the truth. He was scared and worried for Spinelli. He realized that he wasn't willing to put up with Michael's antics if it meant putting Spinelli at risk in any way.

Michael is a self-entitled brat who may have some genuine emotional issues but it isn't always up to Jason to rescue him or fix things. I certainly don't want him valuing him above Spinelli. I know I'll probably never see something like this on the show so I am even more thankful for your story. You made me very happy!

From:

I really like how this turned out at the end, how Jason chose Spinelli over Michael who just consistently twists and turns the truth to suit his own ends. Spinelli, as usual, is always thinking of the best interest of others. I really enjoyed reading this.

From:

How about Dante/Ethan?

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God, it sucked now that his secret was out. Not only was he Sonny’s son, but he was also an undercover cop out to turn his biological father in. He’d made a lot of enemies when that had come to light – Sonny, Jason, everyone with whom the world ‘mob’ could be associated. Lulu out and out refused to see him and Morgan wouldn’t talk to him, either.

He kind of wished he actually was Dominic Pirelli.

Coleman, though, he doesn’t seem to care one way or the other what he wants to call himself, so he heads to Jake’s for a beer. He could certainly use one or two or five after all of this drama. He orders and takes his drink to the corner of the room, out of view from most of the patrons.

“Didn’t think you’d be sticking around after all that stuff got out, mate.” Someone said from behind him. It wasn’t hard to guess who. The scruffy looking son of Luke Spencer was hovering behind him, a beer of his own in hand. “Ya mind?”

Dante shrugs and gestures to the chair across from him, which Ethan claims. “What do you want?”

“Just trying to satisfy my curiosity, is all.” He says, Australian accent thick as always. “One conman to another.”

“I’m not a conman. I was doing my job.” Dante grumbles back in reply. He wasn’t like Ethan, no poker games stunts and trademark Spencer style schemes.

“Bit touchy there, are we?” Ethan replies, brown eyes sparkling in response to the bantering. “I consider my… talents a career as well. Although I think mine may be less risky than yours could have been.”

Dante downs about half of his drink in one gulp. He needs more like ten now. “Call it whatever you want, Ethan, I don’t care.”

Ethan tugs at his ponytail, reigning in escaping bits of his hair. “Easy, mate. I never said I minded what you pulled on Corinthos, I was just merely commenting on the gallantry of such a move.” He grins his goofy, toothy grin, then. “Maybe we can, I dunno, work together sometime.”

Before Dante can respond, tell him that it’s absolutely insane and have you even been listening? Ethan is up and gone, leaving behind a napkin with his phone number scrawled across it.

Somewhere around his third or fourth drink, he calls.

(Also, thank you for the new pairing idea, it is very rapidly growing on me even though I had never considered it previously.)

From:

To find that I liked this. Of course it may just be your take on it ;-). I enjoyed this line: was just merely commenting on the gallantry of such a move.” He grins his goofy, toothy grin, then. “Maybe we can, I dunno, work together sometime.” I actually SAW Ethan in my mind's eye while reading this. You certainly left it open for expansion. Nice piece.

From:

I really like how you have set this up and do hope that you will consider writing more Dante/Ethan (I do like Jaspin as well though). I like the easy way in which Ethan approaches Dante and how he rebuffs him off at first and ends up calling after imbibing enough. I also like the comparison between the two, how Ethan bridges the gap by claiming they are both conmen. Excellent writing and an enjoyable read. You have me asking, what happens next? I love it. Thank you! :D

From:

dark-dreymer.livejournal.com

Tommy/Merton.

No prompt, just do what ya feel like ^.^

From:

It was just one of those nights. He just couldn’t sleep, probably wouldn’t be able to even if his life depended on it. It was too hot, then too cold. And no matter how many times he kicked the covers off or pulled them back on, despite having flipped his pillow over a good two dozen times, Tommy just couldn’t get sleep to come.

He could feel the wolf just itching to go running out in the woods, and with no chance of getting some much needed rest before school tomorrow, he gave in and climbed out of bed. Scrambled out the window and down to the porch below. Then he was off.

Tommy ran and ran and ran and instead of wandering aimlessly about in the woods as he had intended, he found himself enigmatically drawn toward his friend’s house in the darkness.

It was easy enough to slip inside with the key taped to the top of the door frame. His wolven eyes adjusted faster than his human one’s would have to the blackness of the room and he could make out the general form of his friend on the bed, could hear his breath, and could imagine the sight of his chest rising and falling rhythmically.

“Merton.” He said, approaching the bed slowly. “Hey, Mert.”

In response, he got a grumbly sound of protest at the early wake-up call, but Merton seemed hardly surprised or alarmed by Tommy’s unanticipated presence. “Nggh.”

Tommy smiled, and the wolf for some reason left him then, retreating back into wherever it hid within him. Suddenly, he was exhausted and Merton’s bed sure looked comfortably appealing. “Move over.” He requested of the other boy, and Merton acquiesced easily enough even when mostly unconscious.

It was hardly the first time they’d crashed together – fighting monsters was a tiresome affair and sometimes there was just no point in going all the way back home when it felt like home here anyway – but it was the first time he’d come here for no apparent reason.

Merton blinked at him lazily in the darkness, then. “Mm, Tommy? What’re you…?”

“Shh. Sleep.” Tommy shifted his way under the blankets as well, curling up beside the smaller boy as he had on previous occasions. The wolf always seemed to approve of this, though Tommy was in the dark as to why. His hand settles somewhere over Merton’s chest, keeping him in place beside him.

They were both out in seconds.

From:

dark-dreymer.livejournal.com

This was really, really sweet but my brain's high on Pepsi Max right now so I got this insane mental image from the line They were both out in seconds where they both blurt "I'm gay!" which is probably not what you intended but... eh, I blame the Pepsi!

From:

Lol, I'll blame the Pepsi, too.

They were both asleep in seconds.

From:

You know it baby, Jaspin ALL THE WAY!

From:

Damian Spinelli is dead.

2315

At least this is the news Jason gets upon stepping off of Sonny’s private jet. Mac is waiting there for him with the startling bit of information. And it takes every ounce of self-control in his body not to go on a madman’s rampage as the words reach his ears. Instead, he forces his features into something that is hopefully convincingly blank and says, “How?”

“We don’t know yet. He’s missing, but the amount of blood…” Mac informs him solemnly, professionally.

2337

By the time he gets back to the Penthouse, his cover is blown. The mask of indifference he’s tried to plaster over his reactions is gone entirely and he can’t even bring himself to care that he’s left numerous holes in the wall, left a lamp and an end-table and anything else within range of his fury in millions of shattered pieces.

The mess around him is the last thing on his mind as he sits in the darkness and stares at the wall.

2359

Jason decides that Spinelli isn’t dead until he knows for sure.

0231

Maxie shows up, then – Mac had just given her the news, he’d been holding out – she’s crying and sobbing and Jason is on the verge of feeling sorry for her when she says the words that stop all pretenses of the thought. “It’s all my fault.”

His eyes take on the Stone Cold hardness that Spinelli had named his for, and he round son her in full blown mobster mode. “What?”

“I,I…” She sniffles. “He told me that he had something important to tell you about… something, I don’t know… and, and he was… I was busy helping Kate with an article for Crimson and… I just kind of ignored him, okay?” She tells him, building up her own defenses, making it sound as if it wasn’t her fault, really.

He’s not happy with that, but it doesn’t tell him anything about where Spinelli could be now. Images of ditches and empty warehouses flash in his mind and he forces them away.

“I... I think he went to talk to Sonny.”

From:

For creating this SO swiftly. I like the beginning where he schools his features and hopes they don't show anything that Mac can see. Then he rips the penthouse to pieces and sits in the physical and emotional ruin of his life. Along comes Maxie with her tears and she ALMOST ensnares Jason. That is until he hears that she, as usual, let Spinelli down by starting the neverending cycle of damaging indiffference.

From:

0302

He pounds on the door to Sonny’s place for close to five minutes before he gets an answer. He had been about ten seconds away from kicking or shooting the door in to get his answers, but luckily he doesn’t have to resort to that.

“God damn it, Jason. What the hell do you want?” Sonny growls at him.

Jason takes a few seconds to convince his mind to say the words. “Spinelli’s dead. Maxie told me he was here earlier.”

Sonny doesn’t seem at all disturbed by the news of the hacker’s death. “Yeah, yeah. Your freak boy was here. He was rambling on about something or the other, one of his cases or something. As a general rule, I don’t listen when he talks.”

His fists curl into Sonny’s shirt with an entirely new level of wrath. “Did you hear me? Spinelli is dead. Missing and most likely dead. I don’t fucking care about whatever unfounded grudges you have against him, I need to know what he was talking about.”

Sonny shoves back at him, looking surprised by Jason’s uncharacteristic outburst. “I told you, I don’t know.”

Just for good measure, he punches Sonny in the face before he leaves.

0338

Spinelli’s computer – left behind – is useless to Jason, who can’t even figure out the password to get into it.

He’s at the PI office flipping through McCall & Jackal case files when Sam calls him. She’s heard the news.

“God, Jason.” She says, “He tried to tell me about it, but I told him he was being paranoid! Being ridiculous!”

“About what?” Jason demands of her.

“A… a case we were working on. He thought the woman we were investigating had ties to Franco or something, back in Paris.”

He hangs up without another word and digs through files until he finds one with Spinelli’s scrawled handwriting – Franco? – It reads, but that’s it.

0555

He’s at the dock where Spinelli was supposedly slain. Police tape is up, and a uniformed officer is standing by, but Jason can see all he needs to see from behind the yellow ‘Do Not Cross’ line.

Blood, an alarming amount of it, spread across the concrete. Spinelli’s.

Is anyone not at fault for this heinous act? Sam, for not believing him, Sonny for not listening to him, Maxie for ignoring him, and Jason himself for not being there when he was needed most.

0620

Franco’s loft is abandoned. The pictures of him, the paintings, all the signs of his obsession all seem to be gone. Only the stock furniture remains, and Jason takes care to search all of it, just in case. And, god, it’s freezing in here.

It’s in a trunk in the corner that he finds Spinelli. He’s beaten up and bloody, with a deep, deep gash in his stomach. He’s blue, whether from the chilled room or the blood loss, but Jason can see a barely discernable rise and fall of his chest, can feel the slowest beat possible under his fingers when he presses them against Spinelli’s neck.

He calls 911 and tells them to hurry. He doesn’t tell them that the second he sees Franco again, he’s going to kill him, no matter the circumstances, because that doesn’t matter.

0627

Damian Spinelli is alive.

From:

There's a problem here and that's why I HATE drabbles, they always end before I am ready. I mean don't get me wrong, any piece of writing where Jason socks Sonny (or worse) is worthwhile. Jason's search for answers, his see-sawing back and forth between acceptance and denial of his death-the blood on the dock, a perfect counterpoint-are all excellently illustrated. Sam's unknowing compliicity in how they all failed him, that was all marvellously drawn within the spare confines of a drabble. Finding Spinelli hurt but not dead, can't say the same for Franco's bleak future though, was a fitting climax. Still, now I am left hanging, wanting more, wanting the aftermath and that's the limitation of a drabble! Thanks for doing this for me.

From:

cynical-sweater.livejournal.com

Morgan/Reid with some protective!Rossi going on. Focus can go either way. (IE: Rossi and Reid interacting with Morgan/Reid as a "subplot" (can you have subplots in drabbles?) or Morgan/Reid as main focus with protective!Rossi as a side point.)

HAVE FUN BBGIRL.

From: