CSI:NY fic: "a lady called death"
May. 13th, 2006 04:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bedlamsbardThis may or may not qualify as crackfic...canon-verse, takes place sometime after "Heroes."
The Crime Lab is intimately acquainted with Death. Many of them have never seen Her personally, but She haunts the lab, visible just out of the corners of their eyes.
Hawkes worships Her. He saw Her in the morgue long before he came to the team, a tall, pale woman with dark and eyes and huge black wings bending over the bodies. She has never spoken to him, but She meets his eyes sometimes and lets him know coolly that his time will come She knows him and She appreciates him, but She doesn't love him.
Lindsay can't stand Her. She closes her eyes whenever she sees Her and tries to pretend there's no one there and she hasn't had enough sleep, takes two aspirin with her coffee and considers the bottle of anti-depressants in her medicine cabinet. When she looks again, Death is still there, smiling a slow, promising smile. She's waiting for Lindsay.
Danny thinks of Death the same way he thinks of Mac's swords. Something beautiful, something dangerous. After Aiden's murder he waits for her at the next crime scene. Why? he asks. Why her? Death smiles, slow and sweet. Why not? She holds out one white hand and curls the fingers over his cheek. Her touch burns like dry ice. Maybe it will be you next. What do you think? Danny looks Her in the eye. Ain't you the one calling the shots? Why don't you tell me? This time She laughs, low and bell-like. I like you.
After Frankie, as Stella lies still in her apartment, Death pays a visit. To her, Death is Thanos, a pale youth with dark hair. He kneels down next to Stella and puts a hand beneath her chin, lifting her head up to look at her. Hello, He says. You do me well. Stella remembers the punch of bullets into flesh. Thank you, she says. I think. Death runs His fingers through her hair. Don't, He whispers, and brushes a kiss over her forehead. It burns like frost. Good girl.
Mac knows Death. She is beautiful, grace and fate incarnate, white hair like snow on white skin and blue-black eyes. He saw Her in Kosovo, standing behind his comrades; and again in New York, bent over the bodies of the dead. On September 11, She found him in the crowd and put Her hand on his shoulder. I wish I could take you, She told him, but my brothers forbid me. Mac remembers the ice of her touch. Death kisses him softly on the mouth. Your time will come, She said. And once it does, I shall be glad to take you. Until then...well, I shall see you. She smiled. And you shall see me.
Yes, the Crime Lab knows Death, and She knows them, in all Her incarnations. Death the thief, Death the lover, Death the woman who stands in the shadows, waiting for her time. Yes, She waits, knows when to take and when to leave, but all men die. All men come to Her land in the end. All souls are Hers. Hers is the hand no man can flee.
Okay, yeah, definitely crackfic. Title from e.e. cummings.
The Crime Lab is intimately acquainted with Death. Many of them have never seen Her personally, but She haunts the lab, visible just out of the corners of their eyes.
Hawkes worships Her. He saw Her in the morgue long before he came to the team, a tall, pale woman with dark and eyes and huge black wings bending over the bodies. She has never spoken to him, but She meets his eyes sometimes and lets him know coolly that his time will come She knows him and She appreciates him, but She doesn't love him.
Lindsay can't stand Her. She closes her eyes whenever she sees Her and tries to pretend there's no one there and she hasn't had enough sleep, takes two aspirin with her coffee and considers the bottle of anti-depressants in her medicine cabinet. When she looks again, Death is still there, smiling a slow, promising smile. She's waiting for Lindsay.
Danny thinks of Death the same way he thinks of Mac's swords. Something beautiful, something dangerous. After Aiden's murder he waits for her at the next crime scene. Why? he asks. Why her? Death smiles, slow and sweet. Why not? She holds out one white hand and curls the fingers over his cheek. Her touch burns like dry ice. Maybe it will be you next. What do you think? Danny looks Her in the eye. Ain't you the one calling the shots? Why don't you tell me? This time She laughs, low and bell-like. I like you.
After Frankie, as Stella lies still in her apartment, Death pays a visit. To her, Death is Thanos, a pale youth with dark hair. He kneels down next to Stella and puts a hand beneath her chin, lifting her head up to look at her. Hello, He says. You do me well. Stella remembers the punch of bullets into flesh. Thank you, she says. I think. Death runs His fingers through her hair. Don't, He whispers, and brushes a kiss over her forehead. It burns like frost. Good girl.
Mac knows Death. She is beautiful, grace and fate incarnate, white hair like snow on white skin and blue-black eyes. He saw Her in Kosovo, standing behind his comrades; and again in New York, bent over the bodies of the dead. On September 11, She found him in the crowd and put Her hand on his shoulder. I wish I could take you, She told him, but my brothers forbid me. Mac remembers the ice of her touch. Death kisses him softly on the mouth. Your time will come, She said. And once it does, I shall be glad to take you. Until then...well, I shall see you. She smiled. And you shall see me.
Yes, the Crime Lab knows Death, and She knows them, in all Her incarnations. Death the thief, Death the lover, Death the woman who stands in the shadows, waiting for her time. Yes, She waits, knows when to take and when to leave, but all men die. All men come to Her land in the end. All souls are Hers. Hers is the hand no man can flee.
Okay, yeah, definitely crackfic. Title from e.e. cummings.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-14 12:27 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-14 12:58 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-14 01:17 am (UTC)And now I'm trying to imagine what would happen if the lab met the Sandman version of Death. Speaking of crackfic...
(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-14 01:44 am (UTC)*raises eyebrows*