a/n: This is a very different story for me, in that I'm going to focus a lot on OCs. But Nick and the CSI nightshift team are definitely involved. I wasn't going to post this at all, but I've written a decent amount, and what the heck--enjoy!
Momentum
The heels of her tall boots clacked importantly against the stone tile floor of the building's lobby. Not that she was important—she was just an ordinary 20-something woman—but it was fun to pretend.
Jill tossed her light brown hair over her shoulder with a quick flick of the wrist, and went into the flower shop off to the left of the lobby. She gave a civil nod to the building security guard, who nodded back and turned back to his paper.
Cool air greeted her as she walked into the flower shop. Bright colors popped out at her, as did unique shapes of exotic flower heads. Jill turned to a vibrant orchid, even though she knew she'd settle on a ready-made assortment. For now, the plum-shaded bloom distracted her.
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Nick Stokes sighed as he walked into the building's lobby. He wasn't thrilled to be awake right now. Sure, it was the afternoon and all, but he was tired! After already pulling a double, and now making that double go into overtime, he knew he wasn't too alert.
He swallowed grimly and walked over to the security check in.
"What floor is Mr. Lloyd in?" Nick asked, suppressing a sudden yawn. The guard merely pointed to the directory on the wall. Nick frowned but moved to it.
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Jill knew the bouquet wasn't as nice as the orchids, but money was an object, and she wanted to say 'congratulations!' to her newly engaged friend, not 'I could fund your entire honeymoon.' Besides, Jill wasn't that flush in the cash department anyway.
She exchanged money for flowers with the store clerk and then clacked loudly out the door with her boots.
Her eyes focused on the variety of colors in that ready-made bouquet. It wasn't rich, but it was pretty.
Suddenly she walked into someone. Jill gasped as she dropped her flowers, and she quickly bent down to pick up the bouquet.
"So sorry!" she said quickly, not even glancing at the stranger she bumped. Before the stranger could answer, a loud squeal sounded from outside the building.
Jill found herself ignoring the flowers as she saw not just one, but three police cars pull up. The officers quickly spilled from their vehicles.
The stranger in front of her turned abruptly and grabbed Jill. He yanked her to her feet, and she yelped as she saw the harshness of his face. His dirty blonde hair was long, just above his shoulders, and his rough features told her this wasn't about her bumping into him.
The man whirled her around in his arms, and suddenly pressed a gun to her head. Jill whimpered.
"Hey!" she heard someone shout across the lobby. Her eyes darted to a man, dressed in some weird, dark vest. Before he could do anymore, or less, two men drew guns and aimed them at him.
The stranger holding Jill jerked the gun to the entrance, and fired three shots. The cops heading up the building's stairs hit the ground.
"Let her go," the man in the vest said, ignoring the guns pointed at him. "I'm with the Las Vegas PD. Take me instead."
Jill ventured a glance up at her captor, and saw him nod to his comrades. They moved in on the man, pushing him along.
But Jill wasn't released. She was dragged along, by the blonde thug as his friends prodded the guy wearing the vest. Two more shots rang out, again from the criminals, and the next thing Jill knew, they were going down some staircase.
"Let her go, man," the guy with LVPD said. "You don't—" He groaned and shut up when one of them hit him in the back of the head. The man stumbled a bit.
"Please let me go," Jill whispered. "Please let me go." She kept repeating it, so softly she wondered it was audible at all.
The older, blonde man holding her shook her and gripped her arm so hard she uttered a helpless squeak. "Shut up," he said.
Jill bit her tongue.
She hadn't noticed it earlier, but the man's voice was . . . foreign. It was English-sounding, or British. And despite the connotation of being charming, it was anything but. Especially as his fingers dug deeper in her skin.
The stairs ended in a garage, and waiting for them was a tall Volkswagen van. She and the LVPD guy were shoved in, and the van sped off with the three thugs glaring at their hostages.