Scene of the Deception - First and Always

by Seraphena

Title: Scene of the Deception - First and Always
Author: Seraphena
Email: dark_seraphena@fuse.net
Ratings: PG-13 (I think for violence and suggestive remarks)
Distrobution: MA and my site, if you want it just ask. I'll get a beta'd copy one day.
Genre: Drama, Action/Adventure, AR
Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: George owns the boys, I borrowed them all and just twisted slightly
Warning: Barely beta'd you'd think I'd have learned by now if anyone wants to volunteer to help a lonely soul let me know.
Note: For the challenge even though its really late, blame me, blame my bad organizational skills, blame something just read it and let me know what you think.

/stuff/ are things being read.

Summary: Quinton Jenner doesn't want a partner does he?

Quinton searched through the stack of papers on in his inbox. He looked through those scattered over his desk. He even picked through the ones in his garbage can.

Where is it? Scowling at the silent files he pulled up the raw data on his computer, again. With pretrial just three days away this report should have been given to the homicide detectives days again. He thought he had, but no one could find it, not even a rough draft.

This wasn't the first time either. Adi had been urging him for months to take a vacation, a day off something other than the day in and day out work. Quinton had dismissed the idea, where would he have gone? Who would have taken over his duty? Besides that he had no one to go with, and a vacation alone.just wasn't worth it.

The fact that the "concern" wasn't limited to the department bothered him. Mace had expressed his "concern" on more than one occasion. The dark skinned captain would sporadically stop by his office "just to make sure nothing was wrong". Pointing out the advantages of a partner and how nice it would be to have maybe just an assistant.

Both had known him for years, since they were children really. Adi's office was on the other side of town, Mace surely had too much work as it is, but over the last two years they had been there, supportive and concerned. There were days he hated that concern, others it made him realize that maybe a few people actually cared.

But he would not give in to their suggestions. I don't want another partner. I don't want to go through that ever again...

His screen filled with reports, Morgue, ballistics, trace.. and running a search he found the fingerprint analysis stuck away in his temporary documents, not his report file. He had to focus, set aside his annoyance and exhaustion be objective and get this thing done.again.

/Victim was discovered at 7:15 by the night watchman on his evening rounds of the hotel's back areas. First officer roped off the area and called in Homicide division. Officer Billings took the report from the Night watchman and secured the surveillance tapes from the three cameras in the back area, the loading dock, and the rear exit. CSI technicians Adi Gallia and Siri Tichi arrived on scene with the mortician assistant at 7:20. See attached A for picture of the body and the surrounding area. Three spent .45 shell casing were found six feet from the body (See Attached B report)./

Knocking pulled Quinton from his train of thought. Glancing at the clock he cursed silently. 8:00 am normally he always found something to get his out of the office for Mace's daily visit.

"Come in Mace." He called sipping at the now cold tea.

The grin on other man's face was his first warning. Captain Windel was up to something, and Mace knew he had his victim cornered. Always amusing to those not serving as the victim.

"Hello Quinton." The bright white teeth stood out starkly against the dark skin. Mace gloated too much. "Good to find you actually in your office."

Like he had been trying to be subtle about escaping into the field as often as possible.

"And what do I owe the pleasure of your visit to my humble department?" Mace seemed determined to play things nonchalantly, he could do that too.

Mace studied the walls for a moment, there was nothing there to look at, Quinton knew, nothing but books piled to the ceiling on shelves. "There is a rather large graduating class from the academy this year."

"And?" Maybe Mace would get to the point.eventually.

"You do know that before an officer outside the normal.departments can be assigned permanently to a station he has to be evaluated by a senor detective."

He knew where this was going now. Every other year had managed to avoid this, avoid having someone assigned. "No, Find someone else."

"These is no one-"

"Adi Galla, she's been promoted to Senior Detective."

"Partnered with Siri from undercover."

"Depa -"

"Teaching this quarter at the University and the Academy."

"Ki in computers."

"Doesn't have the qualification to deal with this student."

That got a disbelieving look.

Pulling up a chair Mace sat down and leaned forward. "Let me tell you about our Mr. Kenton." A file was neatly produced from his jacket. "Straight A student in high school, attended the University on a full scholarship Forensic Sciences, Summa cum Laude. A year after his graduation joined the police academy again top of his class."

"If he's so good why won't anyone else take him?"

"Because, you Qui have the necessary skill and training to test this kid, to make him really work." Mace leaned back again. "He's good Qui, the only person that could trust with him is you."

"What about Yoda?"

"You would willing put a young impressionable student with a man so mentally twisted he's lost three assistants in two years? "

Quinton shuttered at the idea. Yoda wasn't that bad. Rumor had it that Yoda had taken over the morgue after an accident had left him with injuries so severe that field duty was out of the question. No one knew for sure. He had been their before some of them had been born and might even be there still after many had left. With a sense of humor that was politely referred to as eccentric Yoda ran his department tightly, and no one dared to even think about the man's retirement in his presence.

"He'd be a good judge of what Kenton is capable of."

Both men had to consider it. Shrewdly manipulative and with an insight that the uninitiated believed to be almost magic he was one of the best medical examiners in the country. But to dump anyone in there unprepared could be considered cruel and unusual punishment.

"Just for evaluations?" Logic won out, there was just no one else. If Mace was right, it would be unfair to loose someone with so much promise.

"Just evaluations." Mace agreed easily, too easily.

When Ben entered Quinton felt something hit him in the chest. This wasn't a police officer, this couldn't have been a scientist. Mace must have been playing some sort of joke. A sick one.

"Quinton this is Benjamin Kenton. Ben, Quinton Jenner head of our crime scene division, he'll be doing your evaluations."

Ginger hair framed the most expressive eyes he had ever seen. Clear green they reminded him of summer fields. His features only added to the grace of his walk, melding into a stunning package.

Pull yourself together. He took firm control of his mind pushing aside the other parts that were trying take over. "Mace showed you around and briefed you on what was going on." He sounded calm and collected that was good.

Ben just nodded and seemed content to wait for Quinton to take the lead. Those eyes seemed to be taking in everything. As the eyes moved the faintest lines showed, Ben wore contacts, he filed that away for later use.

They dicussed small things, office procedure, the requirements Ben would be expected to fulfill. Qui's mind was only half on the conversation. He had done it before, just not for so long. The analytical portion was cataloging Ben's reactions, the way he seemed to move, the nod of his head.

The young man said little, the occasional yes sir or no sir but seemed comfortable just listening. Those eyes and the way his head tilted just a little told Quinton he was memorizing everything. Why did Quinton get the feeling Ben was getting as much information about him as he as about the young man.

The wail of his pager interrupted the last part of their talk. Quickly scanning the text he thumbed it off. Grabbing his coat he waited for Ben to stand. "Get your gear and meet me in the garage. Your evaluations start now."

Ben was waiting by the time Quinton had managed to pull around to the front. Getting out he saw that not only was there a standard black kit, but Ben had a military style backpack.

"Do I want to know?"

"My kit." Not defensive, just facts with the barest trace of an accent Quinton would bet Ben spent years training himself out of. The black leather jacket was scuffed and scared but the badge clipped to his belt was so new it seemed to gleam. "Leaned the hard way to keep my hands free."

It could mean so many things. Rolling his eyes he instead tossed over the keys

"You drive." He tossed the keys over. They were caught deftly, but more a reflex judging from the surprised look on Ben's face. "What? Can't drive a stick."

A flash of something crossed Ben's face, those eyes, Quinton found himself watching, looking for some hint as to the emotions hidden behind the quiet mask. They lightened further a spring color and a faint half smile flittered across his lips.

"I can drive.a stick." With the look, he knew exactly what the phrase was implying and managed by sheer will alone not to laugh. Dirty minded brat.

As long as the drive was there was little conversation to fill the miles to the rural edge of town. Quinton had said all he needed to in the office, Ben would live up to it or he wouldn't. It really didn't matter to him, not in the least. Ben said little as well relaxing in the calm silence. Directions were given, when to turn, what exit to look for, the next highway number, nothing more. Quinton found himself relaxing as well, he hated people that felt the need to fill the quiet even though it sometime gave such useful information.

That half smile still lingered on Ben's lips. A rebellious thought bubbled in Quinton's mind wondering what they might taste like. Forcing himself to look away he pulled the straying thoughts back into order. Though he didn't miss the brief twitch of those lips. Was he so easy to read?

The smile broadened further. You're a professional act like one. Dark green eyes watched him for a moment before returning to the road. Definitely a brat. Should've put him with Yoda and the consequences be damned.

The actual site was not hard to find. A baracade redirected traffic just off the main road. The officer recognize Quinton and briefly looked over Ben's ID before waving them through.

"They should be done with the sketches and photographs." The elder instructed as they parked and got their gear. "Let's see what we have before we split up the work."

Ben simply nodded his gaze seemed to be on the large tract of farm land those soft green eyes staring distantly for a brief moment. Adjusting the straps of his bag he tucked himself into Quinton's footsteps.

"Let's get started."

A uniformed officer met them half way.

"Detective Jenner. Sam Rayner, first on the scene." Most of the homicide officers were so well trained. "I received a phone call from the land owner about an hour ago. Mr. Davis found it when walking the fields. From what little I saw we decided it was better to wait until you guys got here before doing anything more than just the preliminary look around. "

"Doesn't look like any planting was done this season." Ben interjected carefully moving just as Quinton was doing, disturbing as little as possible.

"According to the owner he had let this field fallow this year." Quinton wasn't sure if he liked the way the officer's eye kept returning to Ben's face.

"Anything of interest?" Quinton asked.

"The body was enough to keep the scene clear for you. I've kept the area pretty clear. Most of the cops have only been on the street. Photographer and medical examiner are the only two that even went onto the fields."

Quinton nodded pleased with the information. "We'll get started. The sooner we get done."

"The sooner we all can get this solved. Thanks Detective Jenner, Officer?"

"Kenton." Ben had already put on gloves and Quinton shoved away the smug feeling as he refused to shake the others had.

Reynor's brow crinkled. "Kenton, from this area?"

"Grew up on Eastside."

"Ah then, welcome to the force. Have fun." With a wave, Reynor left them to the task.

A slightly balding man scribbled on a pad of paper seated on the hood of a car rather than near the body.

"Ed, Ben Kenton." He quickly introduced the two.

"Qui good to see you. Mace mentioned that you had an trainee." Mournful brown eyes studied the young man for a moment. "Welcome Officer Kenton, Ed Koth, from the Morgue."

Quinton did catch the surprise and amusement that had flashed over Ed usually solemn face but now was not the time to question it. "The Officer said you and Ki took a quick look and decided to wait."

"Not pretty and not going to be easy." It wasn't like Ed to dance around an issue.

"Not pretty?"

"Scene photos were done. Let have a look shall we?"

They stepped into the grass and a thousand things started screaming at him. "Ben walk the perimeter will you. "

Those eyes studied him for a moment. So serious and.cautious?

"No problem Boss." That half smile was starting to get to him again. A flashlight and a stack of evidence tickets were quickly retrieved from the side pocket of his backpack. Now he could see why Ben liked it. Everything within reach.

Studying the movement of the young man's hip Quinton's careful eye saw the odd way the pack fitted to his back, not the middle, but the straps at the shoulder. Most CSI agents were cop allowed to carry weapons, and Ben's dutifully cared for gun was tightly strapped down at his waist. What was that?

"Qui." Ed soft voice interrupted his musings. "Look at this."

His attention turned to the body leaving a bare minimum to track Ben's action he sat back on his heels to assess the situation.

The body, his mind remotely noted a Caucasian male, early to mid twenties dressed in pants, no shirt, no shoes or socks. The bald head staring up with its blue-gray eyes vacant, empty. "No one touched the body?"

"Reynor said that he didn't move it, only checked for vitals before backing off and calling it in."

Checking for vitals was pretty redundant. A clean slice across the abdomen , the odd way the torso looked sunken in. He could understand why Ed had labeled it "not pretty".

The body lay stretched out, feet splayed. No sign of a struggle, no large areas of blood. A few footprints near the body that he carefully photographed and made impressions of. A place where someone had knelt. His mind began to image the sense using the evidence to tell such a small part of the story. The picture forms, someone carrying the body, deep footprints. Gently laying it down, the scuffed set and then kneeling positioning the limbs carefully.

Did they just walk away, vanish, startled by the sound of the farmer heading this way. But there were no more clues, nothing spoke to him.

Rising he stepped back and looked to Ben.

Competent, efficient, practiced. Quinton was becoming more and more impressed. Ben moved through the scene more like an officer of several years experience, not a green trainee. Something special indeed.

"This isn't the murder scene." Ben said finally coming around to his spot. . Ed was finishing his exam and the gurney waited for the body to be loaded.

"Why do you say that?" He had the same feeling and found himself actually wanting to hear Ben's response.

"No sign of struggle, little blood. Victim had been gutted. Vivisected or bisected the Medical Examiner will have to tell us, but from the depression in the abdomen I'm pretty certain he'll find that most of his internal organs are missing.

Quinton had caught that as well. "Go on."

"It just doesn't feel right."

"Feel right?" Ben was staring off Quinton could almost see the wheel turning as the younger man attempted to gather everything he felt and knew.

"Can't see the fields from the house, there are the foothills nearby, a few abandoned mines and such. " Ben leaned back against the cars rubbing the line between his eyes. "From what I saw of the body it was almost displayed, no debris to hide it, no attempt to cover. The murderer wanted it to be found."

Quinton smiled slightly the muscles in his face seeming to ache. "I'll agree with that."

Ben looked up at Quinton and the older man could read every emotion every thought twisting through that man's mind. Eyes were the windows to the soul.

"Head was newly shaven, too pale." He stopped but Qui knew there was something else, a conclusion reached that Ben didn't want to say.

"What else?" It came out harshly, more so than he had intended.

Gray-green now those eyes drifted back to the foothills. "Bandomeer Mine is close by right."

"Less than a half mile through the woods." Nodding Ben just adjusted his pack and started to walk away. Surprised it took the Detective a moment to caught up.

"Talk to me Ben." Was the boy afraid of something? That Quinton wouldn't like his conclusions, wouldn't believe him.

"The murder scene is nearby." Ben said finally stopping at the tree line. A swap neatly picked from his backpack.

"What makes you say that?"

He was quiet for a moment, sweeping the area with his flashlight, illuminating the trees at his own shoulder level and working up to where Quinton's own impressive 6'5" stood. The ground was checked as well. A break in the trees Ben seemed to find what he was looking for. Carefully he searched the ground. A yellow flag near what appeared to be a boot print. Deeper than what they had found before and clearer. Then Ben swabbed the tree branch parallel to the ground. Testing it the cotton turned purple.

"Trees don't bleed."

"He or she was carrying the body from the mines?"

"That's my guess. Private, secluded and he could be as noisy as he wanted to be."

"Let's take a look." Ben looked as if he was going to protest but clamped his mouth shut.

"Lead on oh fearless leader."

Chuckling Quinton did just that. That sense of humor was going to take some getting used to. Getting used to, he didn't want a partner did he?

Bandomeer had been closed for decades, the ore ran out, the poor conditions, rumors abounded, but one thing was certain it was unsafe.

Little things told the story of the two traveling this way and the one leaving, a partial footprint, scuffed stones, a smear of blood a strand of hair or a tuft of cloth. Quinton had long ago been taught the art of moving with leaving little to show your passage, disturbing almost nothing as he passed. When he looked back Ben followed behind stopping occasionally to tag something that caught he interest or trying hard to copy the older man's movements.

The beams of their flashlights seemed to almost solidify in the darkness of the mine entrance. Ben's light danced around for a moment. A cough that could have been muffled laughter had him looking back at Ben. Pure innocent expression that meet his gaze had him stifling a smile of his own, but the other beam stopped behavior so badly.

"I have a bad feeling about this." He thought he heard Ben say, but his attention was caught by a coppery tang to the air, one that pierced the back of his throat. Moving carefully they made their way further in. Without thought, or conversation dividing the work, Quinton searching the right, Ben a step or two behind scanning the left.

Their faint light illuminated the walls, it was some time before the narrow cavern opened up. The darkness pulled at their lights, making the beams seem more ineffective. Ben seemed to be studying the walls, a grim look on the bare edge of his face that Quinton could see. A flash of stark white had him on the opposite side, trying to make sense of the jumble pale sticks.

Bones, those were bones. A step closer, how many? Were they human?

"Look out!" A solid hit of another body pushed him down and away. The sharp rapport of a gun and a grunt.

A few pebbles rained down on them and he heard Ben's muttered curses.

"You okay?" Ben asked. It took Quinton a moment to understand what had happened, that Ben had pushed him away from something.

"What was that?" He accepted the hand.

"Spring gun." More pebbles and the groan of earth shifting had both men looking up at the ceiling.

"I don't think this place is entirely stable." Quinton joked trying to ease the tension that seemed to be screaming from the other man's stiff body

A hoarse chuckle. "Let's get out of here."

Quinton couldn't agree more. They moved quickly dodging falling debris, running where they could. A good size chunk hit Quinton in the shoulder with a wet snap his flashlight falling to the floor.

Ben caught him before he could fall. "Forget it, keep moving."

Light became their beacon, it grew stronger and they ran faster. The rumbling became a roar.

"Move." Another push this time propelling them both from the mouth of the cavern as it came slamming down.

It hurt to breath, to move.

"Jenner? Kenton?" Mace's voice called out.

"Over here." Qui struggled to rise, moving to where the other was laying, moving so very little and he could hear Ben's breath in short gasps.

"Ben?" He asked turning the younger man over gently. His hands came away bloody.

"Fine. I'm Fine."

"Partners don't lie to each other."

"Partners?" Those dark green eyes were wide.

"Partners if you'll have me." Quinton smile working to stop the blood until help arrived.

"I think you need one." Ben quipped. "I don't think this is end of this."

"I hope not." But Quinton wasn't talking about the case.

Around them the wail of sirens and the sharp commands of their fellow officers they just waited knowing the other would be there.

FIN.