Basement - M.E.'s Office

[Tasha]

Gore didn’t bother her.

Tasha Griffin had seen a lot in her life, working in cities like Chicago and Los Angeles, and it certainly went a long way towards strengthening one’s resolve, not to mention one’s stomach. Blood, grey matter, organs… none of it bothered her. She had yet to eat breakfast, and was running on adrenaline and coffee; there was little in her stomach to lose, had the sight of a purely mangled throat really unsettled her in any way.

A woman’s soft, easy voice floated from the speakers of the CD player across the room, and the Medical Examiner looked down the table at what she had accomplished so far. The priest, poor man, had been stripped down, everything bagged and tagged for the guys in the lab to take away and look over — most of which had already been done, save for the blood samples she had removed from the surface of the skin — and she’d cleaned him down. She’d taken a look ‘inside’, though before she had even done that, she had known the C.O.D. for a fact … it wasn’t hard to figure out after all. One look at the neck, and it was a no-brainer.

Not often I get a Father on my table, she thought to herself, resting her gloved hands on the edge of the cold slab, sighing, trying not to let herself think about the rest of the case, and everything that had apparently happened during the night.

[Tony]

Continued from: Break Room

He could hear the soft music playing as he reached the door to the M.E.’s office, the best sign there was that Tasha Griffin was inside and working. Tony sometimes wondered if the music was just for her or if like some of the other ME’s he had known she believed it was a comfort to the dead person on her table. One of these days he might even get around to asking her. Tony wasn’t sure exactly what his own thoughts and belief’s were on that matter – he just hoped that if he ever ended up in that position, he wouldn’t feel or hear it.

“Hey Tasha,” Tony greeted as he stepped inside, giving his friend a small smile although it faded slightly at her appearance. “You okay?” he asked, moving closer, real worry on his face. He knew some cases got to her – some cases got to everyone – and he was slightly apprehensive as to what was so special about this one.

[Tasha]

Music was just comforting, no matter who heard it. It was why she chose the artists she did, and avoided anything rock or metal, even though she sometimes listened to such things in the morning to wake herself up after crawling out of bed. But down in the morgue, where she believed in respecting the dead and wrapping up their final mysteries, the soft tones of people like Vienna Teng and The Fray just seemed to fit. They weren’t offensive or abrasive.

It was the voice that roused her from her reverie, her dark eyes having locked on the poor man’s face as he lay there, unresponsive and completely still. She looked up, a lock of dark hair falling from behind her ear and the ponytail she had pulled it all back in. “Tony.” She smiled softly, feeling a little better already. Somehow, despite her wavering views on religion, staring at the murdered body of a Father… it had been more than a little depressing. Or maybe she was just tired.

“Oh, just… long night.” She looked down at Father Mackenzie again, and then back to Tony. “You just get in?”

[Tony]

“Couple of minutes ago,” Tony replied, stepping up and looking down at the body on Tash’s table. Holy man, innocent, murderer… by the time they reached this stage they all looked the same, all unwitting victims and in need of something the forensic lab tried to give them. They all passed through Tash’s hands first though and she brought a kind of dignity to it all.

“Is this the Father? I caught a sentence or two about him on my way over.” He knew that you were supposed to treat every crime the same, one to be solved and then move on, but he was glad this wasn’t really his case. The thought of a man of the cloth killed in his own church sent a chill down his spine and Tony knew his focus would have not been a hundred percent because of it.

[Tasha]

Tash’s nod was quiet, at least initially, as she let her gaze roam over the body on the table again, as if inspecting from her place to see if she had missed something important. It would be too late now anyway, after she had cleaned him down and done her part. If potential evidence wasn’t removed before that portion of the process, it was compromised, lost or just plain destroyed. But the self-assured, even inwardly arrogant part of Tash’ knew that she was damn good at her job. She’d gotten it all.

“Yeah.” She nodded again. “Father William Mackenzie,” she revealed. “Had his throat torn out in his own confessionary, too.” After a pause, she added, “Insult to injury, I suppose.” Meeting Tony’s gaze, she said, “He was even more of a mess when he was brought in; I’ve sent just about everything upstairs already, but if it’s on your way, there are some blood samples that I collected, in case the killer left some of herself behind.”

She was trying not to think about it, and everything that had followed it. Her job, her place was down here with the dead, as morbid as it sounded. It was her element, and beyond it, she had little to no control, and it was… oddly comforting. But that didn’t mean she didn’t want to know about the world above her head.

[Tony]

“Sounds like someone really had it in for him… or what he represented.” It was slightly foolish, Tony knew, to be making theories before the full facts came to light – especially considering he didn’t have any of the facts in his possession. All he knew was that the manner of death… it sounded hate filled. To a degree all murder felt like that, but as Tash had said, it was insult to injury to kill a man in his own confessionary.

“Sure, I have to head back in a few anyway. I left Mike somewhere and knowing him, he’ll have wandered if I leave him alone too long. Man needs a bell.” He glanced over at the blood samples, making a mental note of where they were so he could just grab them when he left.

[Tasha]

Once again, Tasha nodded. She had come to much the same conclusion herself. From what she had been told, a woman had apparently ripped out the priest’s throat with her bare hands, and try as she might, she hadn’t been able to find anything to contradict that, which, plain and simple… actually sort of terrified her. How one person had the strength to do such a barbaric, lethal thing was beyond her; it was certainly something she had never seen before in her time as a medical examiner.

Smiling a little at Tony’s tease about Mike, she tried to come up with some witty remark to add, but she didn’t know Mike as well as she knew Tony, and she was just drained after the night’s work all of a sudden. “Hey,” she began, throwing caution to the wind, “did you… hear anything, upstairs?” The pause wasn’t intentional; she just had to collect her thoughts and process them into words. “About the crash, and…”

Dammit, Tash’, just ask the question. He’s not psychic.

“I mean, has anyone heard anything about the Riveras?” As soon as the words tumbled out of her mouth, she hated the way they had sounded; she knew they had survived the crash, but they were her friends, and if she hadn’t been needed for work, she likely would have headed over to see them already herself, but as it was, she had to rely on the assurances of others right now.

[Tony]

He should have realised it would be something like that. Tony had thought something was wrong with Tasha besides simply being tired but he had refrained from pushing and questioning her again, not wanting to appear nosey. The CSI suddenly felt bad for running out of the break room like a coward before he had found out anything about the case.

“I… didn’t even know the Riveras were in a crash,” Tony admitted, feeling terrible for letting her down, even in such a simple way. “If you like I can try and find out. Use my CSI super sleuthing skills…” he trailed off, hoping to get some kind of smile from Tasha for his comment, wanting to make it up to his friend. Tony knew she and the Riveras were friends and he didn’t envy her having to stay here and work and worry. The young man couldn’t imagine doing that if someone he cared about was in trouble.

“The break room seemed pretty calm though,” Tony added suddenly, nodding to himself. “The mood was certainly not one of… they didn’t seem worried. I’m sure they are fine. Can’t imagine a crash stopping either of those two for very long, can you?”

[Tasha]

Tasha appreciated that about Tony, the one man she saw more as a brother than anything else, and a trusted friend. She knew he would never push her, and he would always respect her wishes and her boundaries, and she admired him for that; the way he took those things into account and never pushed people’s buttons. Not unless he had to, of course.

Tony’s efforts paid off, and after he had finished talking, she did indeed manage a smile, albeit a tired, soft one. She looked up from the body, met his gaze, flickered her eyes downward once more, before fully taking her attention off the deceased between them. “You’re right.” She had known the Riveras for a few years now, and Tony was right, as she had said; it would take a lot more than a crash to put either of them down, and if they’d been alive and… well, not quite kicking, when they’d left the scene, then they would be fine. Still, she would try and drop by later, to see how they were doing.

“Ugh, I shouldn’t get myself worked up like this,” she sighed, pulling off her gloves to pinch at the bridge of her nose, before glancing to the CSI again. “Sorry about that.”

[Tony]

“Sorry for what? Caring about your friends?” Tony offered her a gentle and slightly chiding smile, shaking his head as he did. “Never stop doing that… its… well, this sounds weird…” he trailed off and coughed slightly, trying to word his compliment as best he could. He was much better in one to one conversations but that didn’t mean he was great at them. Thankfully he was pretty sure Tasha would understand it for the compliment it was meant to be.

“When we’re at a scene, its nice to know you care about your friends and other people. Means I know you’re going to treat the poor guy on the ground well one last time. Much better than being cold and unfeeling.” Tony looked faintly embarrassed and awkward for a moment before abruptly changing the subject, trying to be the ‘brother’ he had never really been able to be for his sisters past his early years.

“If you want, I could drive you to the hospital when you’re ready. I’m sure the Rivera’s have evidence that needs processing, their clothes and the like and if the murder was as bloody as you’ve implied, the CSI on the case probably hasn’t got around to it. Perfect excuse.”

[Tasha]

Tash’ couldn’t help but smile as if she’d just received the most touching compliment in her life, which, really, wasn’t far from the truth. She could always rely on Tony to not only make her feel better if she was upset for whatever reason, but he always reminded her of why she did her job, and why it was so important to her. After looking down and ensuring as best she could that she wasn’t blushing, she looked to him, nodding her head. “Thanks, Tony. You know how much that means to me.”

Going over his offer in her head, she looked over the body of Father Mackenzie one last time, and gave a fresh nod. “I’d really like that. Not the… um, bloody part, obviously.” She wrinkled her nose, shrugging it off; Tony would know what she meant. “Besides, I was contemplating heading up to the surface for some coffee, or something anyway. Being down here all night will mess with your head.”

The chance to get some fresh air sounded too good to pass up, not to mention the opportunity to see for herself that Katherine and Marcus were all right.

[Tony]

When Tony said he would drive Tasha to the hospital, what he really meant was he would get Mike to drive them all to the hospital. He knew his friend wouldn’t mind doing it – he loved any chance to show off his car and anyway, it was to do with work, so it wasn’t like either were skipping out on their duties. It would serve him right for flinging M&M’s at him.

Personally, he liked blood. Blood patterns that is. Tony found them endlessly fascinating and he was already hoping that Roxie would let him take a peek at some of the photos – if he could just work up the courage to ask her.

“Which is why we need to get you out of here. Just come from the break room, there was coffee there. Of course that’s no guarantee that it will still be there, not in this place.”

[Tasha]

Where Tony found blood patterns and the like interesting, Tasha had been fascinated with anatomy and the inner workings of the human body, in life and death, since school. It had been obvious where she would end up, even if not to her family, at the time, and she was proud of her placement in the M.E.’s Office. Many would think it dull, stuck with dead bodies all day, but Tasha was in her element. She just had her off days, and it was Murphy’s Law that this was one of them. Thankfully, she had Tony to keep her balanced.

“I’m sure I can find something caffeinated,” Tash’ said hopefully, tossing the used gloves in the appropriate garbage disposal unit. “I just need to pop through the back and get out of these scrubs… I really don’t think they were designed for all-night-use.” She wrinkled her nose. Maybe she would be able to head home for a shower after visiting the hospital. Right now, that sounded like heaven.

[Tony]

Tasha’s optimism, even in something as simple as believing there would be something caffeinated in the break room after the hordes had descended on the room was just one of the many things Tony loved about her. Their relationship was proof that a man and a woman could be friends, without sex involved, and he ignored those that scoffed when he said how much he loved her – as a friend. It was the truth and they both knew it. That was all that mattered.

“If not, we can just stop off and get something on the way to the hospital,” Tony replied, reaching up to push his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, a habit he was never consciously aware of doing. “Can’t have you without some caffeine in you after all. And sure, I’ll wait… with the dead man.” He glanced to the side for a second, towards the Father’s body before smiling at her, to show that he was joking about the faint disgust in his voice at the thought of being alone with the dead – like her, he was used to it. “I don’t mind waiting.”

[Tasha]

Tony was the best friend Tasha had in her job and beyond that in the ‘social world’. He was like a brother to her, and frankly, irreplaceable. It was as simple as that, but to many people, it was somehow puzzling, though the medical examiner never bothered to take the time to explain something so straightforward to such people. If they couldn’t understand a friendship, then in her mind, there was no hope for them, whoever they were.

“Hmm…” She paused, eyes narrowing in contemplation. “Actually, now that you mention it, if I have to choose between the break room ‘coffee’ or something from the outside world… I think the choice there is obvious.” Tasha smiled at the CSI across the table from her, wanting to reach up and pull the tie from her hair but telling herself to wait until she was away from the Father’s body, if only as a show of respect. She didn’t like to act indifferent or flippant around the deceased; it was just her way. She could have a conversation with Tony alongside a corpse because she knew he had respect for them too, even in death, and that was something she had always admired in him; one of the things they had in common.

“Okay, I won’t be long.” Wiping her hands off on one another, she turned to head to the back room to change quickly. It wouldn’t take her long; she had perfected the process of changing efficiently in a rush. It wasn’t as if they were working on a clock, but she didn’t like the thought of wasting Tony’s time, even though he had offered and told her it was no problem. The first thing she did when she got through the door which she closed behind her was pull the tie from her hair, letting it fall down her back and over her shoulders.

She felt better already.