Current Mood: 
optimistic
optimisticCurrent Music: Fallen for you... Jem
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Detective Lily Rush
Inside, my head's a box of stars I never dared to open...
30 April 2008 @ 12:35 pm
Who: No one.
When: Drive back from the desert, before running into Tim again.
Where: In the car
It was just one kiss. It didn’t have to mean anything.
He was grinning, she noted. She could see it in the shallow pools of light cast by the streetlights as they passed. Just little strobe-like glimpses of his face, his lips. She couldn’t see his eyes, though. Not enough light for that as she drove along the highway. But she could see his lips, see that he was pleased.
A tiny thrill of pride shot through her at the sight.
Lily had to make herself focus on the road. It was just one kiss, she reminded herself over and over again. It didn’t mean anything. A kiss could just remain a kiss, just a bit of comfort that they both had needed. It wasn’t like they had planned it to happen. So why was she counting the seconds between the scattered dingy puddles of luminescence? Why was she stealing glances at him in those moments where the illumination touched them both?
Because you’re tired, Lil. Second triple this week, remember?
It was just one kiss. Sure, her lips still tingled. And her skin remembered the heat in his arms as they wrapped around her waist. And her nose remembered the scent of smoke and warm sand and the smell of his cologne. And her tongue knew his taste now, replaying it over and over like the memory of a favorite forbidden treat. And—
And she needed to stop thinking about him as a man and start remembering him as a cop, as her partner. It was just one kiss. It didn’t have to mean anything.
The grin on his lips said otherwise.
The fact that she had to force herself to think like a cop—something that been as natural and easy as breathing just an hour ago—said otherwise…
When: Drive back from the desert, before running into Tim again.
Where: In the car
It was just one kiss. It didn’t have to mean anything.
He was grinning, she noted. She could see it in the shallow pools of light cast by the streetlights as they passed. Just little strobe-like glimpses of his face, his lips. She couldn’t see his eyes, though. Not enough light for that as she drove along the highway. But she could see his lips, see that he was pleased.
A tiny thrill of pride shot through her at the sight.
Lily had to make herself focus on the road. It was just one kiss, she reminded herself over and over again. It didn’t mean anything. A kiss could just remain a kiss, just a bit of comfort that they both had needed. It wasn’t like they had planned it to happen. So why was she counting the seconds between the scattered dingy puddles of luminescence? Why was she stealing glances at him in those moments where the illumination touched them both?
Because you’re tired, Lil. Second triple this week, remember?
It was just one kiss. Sure, her lips still tingled. And her skin remembered the heat in his arms as they wrapped around her waist. And her nose remembered the scent of smoke and warm sand and the smell of his cologne. And her tongue knew his taste now, replaying it over and over like the memory of a favorite forbidden treat. And—
And she needed to stop thinking about him as a man and start remembering him as a cop, as her partner. It was just one kiss. It didn’t have to mean anything.
The grin on his lips said otherwise.
The fact that she had to force herself to think like a cop—something that been as natural and easy as breathing just an hour ago—said otherwise…
Current Mood: 
curious
curiousCurrent Music: Come in Closer... Blue October
23 April 2008 @ 05:53 pm
Who: Lily
Where: Someplace in the desert
When: After meeting Horatio for the first time, but before coffee with Danny, Coffee with Warrick, or running into Tim Speedle.
(First-person entry)
It seemed like forever for the sun to decide to set, but that was Vegas for you. Everything was a craps shoot when you got down to it, even the timing of sunrise and sunset. Some people found that charming, a little natural ambiance for their stay in the gambling capital of the US. I just found it annoying. I wasn’t the betting type, which most people would find odd for a detective. Then again, most people didn’t understand how the game was played. You never ‘played the hunch’ on which suspect did the crime. And you never, ever asked questions that you didn’t have the answer to already.
You let cold hard facts and evidence guide you. So, yeah, I was a bit annoyed at the sunset tonight.
But set it had, finally. I zipped up the lycra jacket, tightening the shoulder strap of my Ipod. Nothing was going to stop me from my break-neck run through the desert. I put my hands on the hood of my car, doing some last-minute stretching. Tonight’s run was going to be dangerous. That was the part I didn’t share with Horatio at that diner. Running in near-perfect blackness in the Nevada desert was tantamount to suicide. It was easy to fall on a hidden rock, or punch through the crust of lightly packed sugar-sand. Both would break your leg just as quickly, or worse. You just never knew what you would stumble upon in the shifting dark of Las Vegas.
( I had my gun holstered at the small of my back, a flashlight dangling from my left wrist. It was all the insurance I was willing to take with me tonight. )
Where: Someplace in the desert
When: After meeting Horatio for the first time, but before coffee with Danny, Coffee with Warrick, or running into Tim Speedle.
(First-person entry)
It seemed like forever for the sun to decide to set, but that was Vegas for you. Everything was a craps shoot when you got down to it, even the timing of sunrise and sunset. Some people found that charming, a little natural ambiance for their stay in the gambling capital of the US. I just found it annoying. I wasn’t the betting type, which most people would find odd for a detective. Then again, most people didn’t understand how the game was played. You never ‘played the hunch’ on which suspect did the crime. And you never, ever asked questions that you didn’t have the answer to already.
You let cold hard facts and evidence guide you. So, yeah, I was a bit annoyed at the sunset tonight.
But set it had, finally. I zipped up the lycra jacket, tightening the shoulder strap of my Ipod. Nothing was going to stop me from my break-neck run through the desert. I put my hands on the hood of my car, doing some last-minute stretching. Tonight’s run was going to be dangerous. That was the part I didn’t share with Horatio at that diner. Running in near-perfect blackness in the Nevada desert was tantamount to suicide. It was easy to fall on a hidden rock, or punch through the crust of lightly packed sugar-sand. Both would break your leg just as quickly, or worse. You just never knew what you would stumble upon in the shifting dark of Las Vegas.
( I had my gun holstered at the small of my back, a flashlight dangling from my left wrist. It was all the insurance I was willing to take with me tonight. )
Current Location: Las Vegas, NV... Desert
Current Music: Shed some light... Shinedown
16 April 2008 @ 11:01 pm
Warrick.
His name breathed across the landscape of her dreams like a thing alive. Lily drew in that name as she drew in oxygen, exhaling it on a sigh and sending it racing across the miles. It would call him to her, bring him in that magical way all dreams had, to her side. She wasn’t entirely sure that was what she wanted, standing as she was in the shadowy dream-reflection of Las Vegas. And yet that was what she got.
He appeared before her, translucent and shifting, as if her memory conjured images of him from the span of the years she had known him, trying to cobble them all together into one solid picture. Warrick stood in his college clothing, eyes flashing with the vivid bright humor that she loved before years and too many horrors had dimmed their luster. Warrick stood with his crime scene kit in hand, the CSI badge at his waist; the shadows making his face indistinguishable.
But she knew it was him. She would know him anywhere.
She moved towards him, steps taking forever to reach him though he stood a few feet away. “Hello, Warrick,” she whispered.
He smiled, that sad-shy smile that he wore now as readily as he wore his badge. “Lily.”
“Why didn’t you come with me?” she asked.
“Why didn’t you stay?” He countered.
“I couldn’t stay.”
“I couldn’t go.”
Her fingertips touched his face, her palm resting against his cheek. He leaned into her touch, closing his eyes. The feel of him was so real, so heart-breakingly solid that she almost cried out. “I miss you,” she said through a throat that was closing up and eyes that were burning with unshed tears. “Dammit, War, I really miss you. I don’t think I ever stopped.”
“Me, either.”
Her hand dropped from his face, and she hugged herself. “You’re saying that just because it’s my dream and I want to hear you say it.”
“Is that what you really think, Lil?”
She could be honest with him in her dreams. If anything, she owed him that honesty. She owed it to herself. “No,” she choked out, tears finally falling. “No, I don’t think that at all. But what proof do I have to the contrary? It’s my stupid dream after all.”
“Dispatch.” He said.
She blinked. “What?”
“Dispatch to Rush, Detective Lily.”
A buzzing, burning pain started to rocket up her side. She grabbed at her side in confusion, trying to stop the horrible sound and feeling that seemed to reverberate all through her. Her fingers found the source of the pain, pulling her cell phone free from her hip. Warrick chuckled sadly, slipping on his sunglasses and picking up his crime scene kit again. He turned away.
“No!” she cried out, trying to silence the phone. “No, Warrick, wait!”
But it was too late. The dream shifted again, the landscape of Vegas suddenly replaced with the stark white walls of her empty apartment. Lily bolted upright, her breath heaving in and out of her body. Beside her, the phone vibrated and spewed out dreaded words across its screen. DISPATCH TO RUSH, DETECTIVE LILY. CODE 420. RESPOND.
“Fuck,” she hissed, scrubbing hands over her face and answering. “Dispatch, this is Detective Rush. On my way.” She heard the address from the operator and cursed again under her breath. “ETA is twenty minutes.”
She crawled out of her sleeping bag, weaving her way through the mounds and mounds of unpacked boxes that was the sole representation of all her worldly goods. Her fingers found last night’s jeans and a faded Philadelphia PD t-shirt. She threw them on, slipping into her sneakers. Her gun went next, followed by her shield. A baseball cap hid her finger-combed hair, a long leather duster completed the look.
Glancing at the clock on her phone, she sighed. It was two hours before her shift started. If Ecklie or Grissom or who ever the hell stood as her boss and keeper had a fit about her appearance, he could gladly dock her a day’s pay.
His name breathed across the landscape of her dreams like a thing alive. Lily drew in that name as she drew in oxygen, exhaling it on a sigh and sending it racing across the miles. It would call him to her, bring him in that magical way all dreams had, to her side. She wasn’t entirely sure that was what she wanted, standing as she was in the shadowy dream-reflection of Las Vegas. And yet that was what she got.
He appeared before her, translucent and shifting, as if her memory conjured images of him from the span of the years she had known him, trying to cobble them all together into one solid picture. Warrick stood in his college clothing, eyes flashing with the vivid bright humor that she loved before years and too many horrors had dimmed their luster. Warrick stood with his crime scene kit in hand, the CSI badge at his waist; the shadows making his face indistinguishable.
But she knew it was him. She would know him anywhere.
She moved towards him, steps taking forever to reach him though he stood a few feet away. “Hello, Warrick,” she whispered.
He smiled, that sad-shy smile that he wore now as readily as he wore his badge. “Lily.”
“Why didn’t you come with me?” she asked.
“Why didn’t you stay?” He countered.
“I couldn’t stay.”
“I couldn’t go.”
Her fingertips touched his face, her palm resting against his cheek. He leaned into her touch, closing his eyes. The feel of him was so real, so heart-breakingly solid that she almost cried out. “I miss you,” she said through a throat that was closing up and eyes that were burning with unshed tears. “Dammit, War, I really miss you. I don’t think I ever stopped.”
“Me, either.”
Her hand dropped from his face, and she hugged herself. “You’re saying that just because it’s my dream and I want to hear you say it.”
“Is that what you really think, Lil?”
She could be honest with him in her dreams. If anything, she owed him that honesty. She owed it to herself. “No,” she choked out, tears finally falling. “No, I don’t think that at all. But what proof do I have to the contrary? It’s my stupid dream after all.”
“Dispatch.” He said.
She blinked. “What?”
“Dispatch to Rush, Detective Lily.”
A buzzing, burning pain started to rocket up her side. She grabbed at her side in confusion, trying to stop the horrible sound and feeling that seemed to reverberate all through her. Her fingers found the source of the pain, pulling her cell phone free from her hip. Warrick chuckled sadly, slipping on his sunglasses and picking up his crime scene kit again. He turned away.
“No!” she cried out, trying to silence the phone. “No, Warrick, wait!”
But it was too late. The dream shifted again, the landscape of Vegas suddenly replaced with the stark white walls of her empty apartment. Lily bolted upright, her breath heaving in and out of her body. Beside her, the phone vibrated and spewed out dreaded words across its screen. DISPATCH TO RUSH, DETECTIVE LILY. CODE 420. RESPOND.
“Fuck,” she hissed, scrubbing hands over her face and answering. “Dispatch, this is Detective Rush. On my way.” She heard the address from the operator and cursed again under her breath. “ETA is twenty minutes.”
She crawled out of her sleeping bag, weaving her way through the mounds and mounds of unpacked boxes that was the sole representation of all her worldly goods. Her fingers found last night’s jeans and a faded Philadelphia PD t-shirt. She threw them on, slipping into her sneakers. Her gun went next, followed by her shield. A baseball cap hid her finger-combed hair, a long leather duster completed the look.
Glancing at the clock on her phone, she sighed. It was two hours before her shift started. If Ecklie or Grissom or who ever the hell stood as her boss and keeper had a fit about her appearance, he could gladly dock her a day’s pay.
Current Mood: 
crushed
crushedCurrent Music: Ice... Sarah McLachlin
09 April 2008 @ 10:43 pm
Vegas.
Why did every important event in her life revolve around a city that was nothing more than a miniature concrete castle in the middle of a giant sandbox? It never made sense to her, the so-called allure of the infamous Vegas Strip. Maybe that was because she was missing whatever genetic molecule that made man and woman alike romanticize ugly realities like organized crime and murder for hire. Maybe she just didn’t understand the notion of trying to win the world at the craps table. And just maybe, perhaps, she had her own reasons for seeing the grime beneath the thin layer of flash that coated the city.
Las Vegas… the city of Dreams.
“City of nightmares is more like it,” Detective Lily Rush muttered to herself, flipping on the radio. Phil Collins crooned from the CD player, the song like a dirge to her already darkening thoughts. Still, she found herself tapping out the beat on the steering wheel. How odd that that song seemed to fit into the events of her life.
While I sit here trying to think of things to say
Someone lies bleeding in a field somewhere
So it would seem we’ve got a long, long way to go
I’ve seen all I want to see today
While I sit here trying move you any way I can
Someone’s son lies dead in a gutter somewhere
And it would see that we’ve got a long, long way to go
I can’t take it anymore
She’d elected to drive across country from Philadelphia to Las Vegas. The rationale behind the decision being that she needed the time to clear her head. Things hadn’t been the same in the City of Brotherly Love since she’d been shot in the line of duty. She’d recovered well enough physically, had even endured the idiotic mandatory sessions with the department shrink. They’d cleared her for a return to active duty eventually, but that stupid shrink had dug up more than her nightmares.
( Turn the page... )
Why did every important event in her life revolve around a city that was nothing more than a miniature concrete castle in the middle of a giant sandbox? It never made sense to her, the so-called allure of the infamous Vegas Strip. Maybe that was because she was missing whatever genetic molecule that made man and woman alike romanticize ugly realities like organized crime and murder for hire. Maybe she just didn’t understand the notion of trying to win the world at the craps table. And just maybe, perhaps, she had her own reasons for seeing the grime beneath the thin layer of flash that coated the city.
Las Vegas… the city of Dreams.
“City of nightmares is more like it,” Detective Lily Rush muttered to herself, flipping on the radio. Phil Collins crooned from the CD player, the song like a dirge to her already darkening thoughts. Still, she found herself tapping out the beat on the steering wheel. How odd that that song seemed to fit into the events of her life.
While I sit here trying to think of things to say
Someone lies bleeding in a field somewhere
So it would seem we’ve got a long, long way to go
I’ve seen all I want to see today
While I sit here trying move you any way I can
Someone’s son lies dead in a gutter somewhere
And it would see that we’ve got a long, long way to go
I can’t take it anymore
She’d elected to drive across country from Philadelphia to Las Vegas. The rationale behind the decision being that she needed the time to clear her head. Things hadn’t been the same in the City of Brotherly Love since she’d been shot in the line of duty. She’d recovered well enough physically, had even endured the idiotic mandatory sessions with the department shrink. They’d cleared her for a return to active duty eventually, but that stupid shrink had dug up more than her nightmares.
( Turn the page... )
Current Mood: 
angry
angryCurrent Music: Long long way to go... Phil Collins