CSI: Across the Pond

“Gerard, wake up!” Frank said happily, attempting to scare the other investigator awake. As of yet, he had been unsuccessful, but that was all about to change. He ran to get a glass of water, then dumped it on Gerard’s head with a smile. The senior investigator was instantly awake.

“Frank, you’re not funny.” Frank laughed anyway.

“Will you get up already? We’re going to be late,” he responded, throwing a pillow at his friend. Gerard sighed and sat up, blinking several times.

“Why are you so perky today?”

“I’ve had my coffee already. And I got fourteen hours of sleep.”

“Aren’t you special,” Gerard muttered under his breath. He had only slept for six hours. Frank picked up his field kit and left the room, telling his partner to meet him in the lobby.

As they walked down the street, coffee in hand, they spotted a familiar face in a nearby shop and entered.

“Hey, it’s you people again! How’re things going?” Laura asked with a smile.

“Can we borrow you for today?” asked Gerard suddenly, not even stopping to say hi. Laura was confused.

“Why?”

“Because Matt the Dictator is at it again, from what I hear,” said Frank. Just the thought of Matt annoyed him.

“He called my brother and Frank lab rats,” Gerard said flatly. Laura frowned, grabbing a box from a shelf behind the counter.

“Actually, I can’t leave today, but I’m sure if you give him this he’ll be much happier. And I promise he‘ll leave you alone. If not, just call me and I’ll be sure to remind him.” Frank reached for the lid of the cardboard box, but Laura smacked his hand.

“What was that for?” he asked in surprise, seeing a red mark already starting to form.

“Not for you. You don’t need more caffeine.” Gerard laughed and picked up the box. Laura didn’t know how right she was. Frank pouted and turned around, walking out the door. It wasn’t fair.
-
“Is Matt here yet?” asked Gerard upon entering the lab. Mikey nodded.

“Photo lab. It’s like he never left.” Gerard thanked his brother and led Frank down the hallway toward the lab. True to form, Matt was now watching one of the videos, occasionally following some of the people on screen with the laser pointer. Gerard entered, closely followed by Frank, who really wanted to see what was in the box. The senior investigator immediately walked forward and handed the cardboard box to Matt. He frowned skeptically.

“Is this a bomb?” he asked. Gerard laughed, half-hoping it was.

“No. Open it.” Matt slowly lifted the lid of the box, and his face brightened immediately.

“Hey, cupcakes! I love cupcakes!” He shoved one of the small cakes in his mouth with a smile.

Gerard and Frank were too shocked for words. Gerard couldn’t believe Matt was actually smiling, not smirking. Frank couldn’t believe he didn’t get a cupcake.

“Matt, why did you get cupcakes?” he asked incredulously. Matt shrugged.

“Laura said I would if I stopped insulting you guys,” he said with a shrug, eating yet another cupcake. Frank felt like he’d been smacked in the face each time Matt took a bite of the treat.

“You have got to be kidding me,” said Gerard, ready to slam his head into a wall.

“What?” Matt asked indignantly, several crumbs falling out of his mouth. “They’re really good.”

“I can’t believe that if we wanted you to stop insulting us, we could have just given you cupcakes. That’s so…stupid,” Gerard said incredulously.

“Do not underestimate the power of food, Gerard,” Frank said in all seriousness, as if warning him of some impending doom. Gerard’s eye began to twitch.

“I am officially in an insane asylum.” He turned and left before he lost any more of his sanity. Frank shrugged and quickly stole a cupcake from Matt, running out the door before he could be caught. Matt thought about chasing him, but he didn’t want anything to happen to the cupcakes, so he shrugged and ate a third one. ‘Nothing’s wrong with cupcakes,’ he thought to himself. ‘Way must be insane.’
-
Gerard briskly walked down the hallway. Mikey joined him, almost jogging to match his pace.

“Something wrong, Gee?” he asked with a note of worry. They had reached the DNA lab, and grabbed their coats from their places on the wall.

“Hey, guys,” said Hunter, giving them a slight wave. Mikey returned the greeting, but Gerard acted as if he hadn’t heard it. In truth, he hadn’t. He was too preoccupied with thoughts of Matt.

“I will never understand him,” he muttered to himself.

“I was about to analyze the DNA of these,” said Hunter, handing him several small plastic evidence bags. Gerard took them without hesitation and immediately set to work, placing the samples of hair and blood in separate vials. He put them in the machine and started the process, then leaned back against the counter and waited.

“You’re not going to answer my question, are you?” asked Mikey, feeling left out. Gerard looked at him, feeling his anger drain away at the sight of his brother’s sad face.

“I’m sorry, Mikey, it’s not your fault. It’s Matt.”

“What could he have done this time?” Mikey asked with a sigh. Gerard put a hand to his forehead, trying unsuccessfully to ward off his oncoming headache. He explained the situation to his brother and Hunter. By the time he was done, both were staring at him in complete disbelief.

“But why cupcakes?” asked Hunter. “Matt is not the type of person I’d take for a cupcake lover, let alone an obsessor.”

“Yeah. He’s more of a…‘crumpets and scones’ kind of guy,” Mikey said in a perfectly imitated British accent. Gerard cracked a smile.

“How long is this going to take?” he asked Hunter. “It seems like this is a high-end machine.”

“Usually anywhere between half an hour and forty-five minutes, give or take.”

“Wow,” said Mikey in shock, dropping his accent. “Ours takes at least an hour and a half.”

“These guys have more money than we do, Mikey. They can afford nice equipment like this because their government actually likes them.” Hunter frowned at Gerard’s words.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Our paychecks come from the state. Something about the feds not wanting to raise taxes,” he said with a sarcastic shrug. “But the income is significantly lower. This machine is probably a good two thirds of what I make per year.”

“And he’s supposed to be getting paid more than the rest of us,” Mikey said to Hunter, motioning to his brother. The three of them laughed.

“I got one!” announced a very happy Frank as he entered the lab, holding a cupcake above his head triumphantly. Mikey reached out to jokingly steal it, and Frank instantly shied away, stuffing the whole thing in his mouth. Gerard stared up at the ceiling. The insane asylum had followed him.

“Apparently I will never understand you, either,” he said to himself. Frank merely smiled and swallowed most of the cupcake whole. His eyes started to water from the sharp pain, but he didn’t care. It still tasted good.

“I came to find out if anyone knows where Jade put the video footage of the crime scene.”

“Matt’s watching some of it, but the rest is probably on his desk somewhere. He locked his office, I’m sure. Here,” said Hunter, tossing a set of keys to Frank. He caught it with one hand and nodded in thanks. Just then, Gerard’s cell phone rang.

“Hello? Oh, hey Tim…Yeah, I’m sorry Frank left so suddenly…oh, really? That’s great…I’ll be sure to tell him…thanks.”

“Who was that, Gee?” asked Mikey.

“Tim McIlrath. Works for Matt. One of his CSIs quit recently, and they were borrowing Frank until they could find a replacement. Now they have; his name is Zach.”

“Zach Blair?” asked Hunter. Gerard nodded. “I remember him. He worked for Tim - well, Matt, I guess - a while ago when Tony quit.”

“It seems like Matt has a hard time keeping people around,” said Mikey.

“Are you surprised?” Gerard asked flatly. Mikey thought about it for a second.

“Now that you mention it…no.” Gerard and Hunter laughed.

Frank burst in through the door and scared them all half to death. He tried to speak but was breathing too heavily.

“Frank, what is it?” Gerard asked with worry. Frank finally managed to calm down enough to the point that he could speak.

“Jade’s office has been broken into,” he said breathlessly, leaning against the doorframe. “Some of the evidence is gone.”