(no subject)

[helsinkibaby]

To those of you who have not gone near CSI Files and read the first news story there (if it's not when you get there, go by dates; you'll know it when you see it) this will be a shock. I, however, had read other spoilers and put two and two together, without the official word. So this isn't really a surprise. However, what does surprise me is how sickened I am by it... I can't believe they're killing Speed! Not so much the best thing in CSI:Horatio as the only good thing in CSI:Horatio... him leaving I could understand (and certainly, with Rory Cochrane's skills as an actor, who the hell could blame him?) but killing him off? I'm gutted. I see some serious denial fic coming on...

As for the show itself - I've long said that the second he jumped, I was gone too... am I still holding onto that? To be honest, I'm not sure. Since I'm the other side of the Atlantic, I've got time to make a decision and will be spoiled to death before I see it one way or another... and the last thing I want to see is him dying, and egads, the funeral... {breaking heart already} but by that same token, I know me, and the Meath-Gaelic-football Never-Say-Die don't-leave-till-it's-all-over mentality will probably still hold true at least for some of the season... but for me, the heart of the show is gone. And certainly the heart of my fandom. Unless they get someone I adore in. Then all bets are off. And as for Caruso saying he doesn't know if they're getting a new person - they'd damn well better; that cast is spread too thin with 4 CSIs (unless Horatio counts for more than one person, him being the Red Headed StepChild of God and all)


And now that that's out of the way, I'm reminded of something I've been meaning to share here - there's a bookshop in Dublin that has CSI:Miami novels. Nothing unusual about that I hear you say. Except for the fact that they've shelved them in, I swear to God, the science-fiction section. So those of us who thought that Horatio had some kind of supernatural powers, we might be more right than we thought!

Fandom of two alert - Press Gang fic for the writers_choice glasses challenge.
Title: Talisman
Fandom: Press Gang
Pairing: Kenny/Lynda friendship
Word Count: 998
Spoilers: Missing scene from The Rest of my Life
Rating: PG
Notes: For the LiveJournal Writers’ Choice glasses challenge.

>*<*>*<

Lynda Day is the last person you’re likely to find crying anywhere, so it takes Kenny a while to find her. He tries the usual places where people hide; Sam’s sanctuary, the desk in the corner of the graphics room where you sit with your back to everyone; the corridor; the toilets, where she fled one Saturday night during late duty. All are empty though, and, frowning, Kenny pushes open the main door to the newsroom, and, to his surprise, that’s where he finds her, sitting on the steps, staring at something she’s holding in her hand.

He thinks this is the obvious place for her to be, because even though Lynda’s not exactly the type of person to hide, today is an exception. Today, there’s a smoking crater where Creswell Road in general, and Sounds Record Shop in particular, used to be. Today, Lynda’s boyfriend is more than likely trapped inside, so he can’t exactly blame her for avoiding the concerned gazes of the news team. Lynda doesn’t handle sympathy, or emotion, very well.

Still though, as her best friend, and more recently assistant editor, it’s Kenny’s job to keep her from spiralling out of control, and on this day of days, he’s determined not to fail. Throwing a glance over his shoulder to make sure there’s no-one there, he lets the door fall shut behind him, goes over to her, asking to announce his presence, “How are you holding up?”

The eyes that turn to him are wide and scared, and they give him his answer, which is good as the girl herself gives him a question. “Any news?”

Kenny shakes his head, lowers himself onto the stone step beside her. “Colin and Billy are still monitoring the police frequency,” he tells her. “They’ll shout if they hear anything.” She nods, looking down, and Kenny can’t remember the last time he saw Lynda look so fragile, so defeated. Helpless to tell her anything of substance, Kenny falls back on hope. “Look, Lynda, we don’t even know he’s in there…”

“He’s in there,” she says dully. “He has to be… he’d’ve called if he wasn’t.”

The thing is, much as Kenny would love to set her mind at rest, he knows that she’s right. Just like he knows that he needs to find something, anything, to keep Lynda’s mind off what Spike might be going through right now. He looks around for inspiration, finds it in Lynda’s hands. “Are those Spike’s sunglasses?” he asks, unable to keep a smile from his face. “I thought he didn’t go anywhere without them.” Because those glasses are Spike’s trademark; well, that and a certain brash cockiness that had always driven Lynda crazy, only sometimes with irritation.

“He doesn’t.” There’s the faintest of smiles on her lips, but still that dull tone in her voice. “These are his spare pair.”

“His spare pair?” Kenny doesn’t even try to keep the amazed amusement out of his voice. “Are you telling me he’s got more than one?”

“He keeps these in his desk drawer,” she tells him. “I think he might have another pair at home; I’m not sure.”

Kenny takes them from her unresisting hands, studies them. “They’re exactly the same as the other pair,” he notes, and she nods briskly, momentarily the Lynda of old.

“Of course they are,” she says. “You don’t think he wants people to know, do you?”

He hands them back to her, tilts his head curiously. “Lynda… if these are Spike’s glasses… how come you have them?”

She draws in a deep breath, shoulders moving up and down with the effort. “It’s stupid,” she mutters, and Kenny shifts closer to her.

“I won’t laugh,” he promises, and she looks up at him before looking down quickly, running her index finger along the frame of the glasses.

“I just… I just wanted to know that they were there, that’s all,” she says, and he waits for her to continue, knowing there must be more to it than that. “Because I was thinking… with the explosion… his other ones… well, they’ll have gotten damaged, won’t they? So he’ll need this pair.” She swallows hard, and he can see that her eyes are dangerously bright. “And if I have them… if I’m keeping them safe for him… then he’ll have to come back… won’t he?”

She’s looking right into his eyes, and there’s no power on this earth that would lead him to contradict her. “He’s going to be fine,” he tells her, and, heedless of where they are, he slips his arm around her shoulders, squeezing gently.

To his surprise, she leans into him, letting her head fall against his shoulder, sure and certain testimony as to how upset she is. “He has to be, Kenny,” she says quietly. “He just has to be.”

They sit like that in silence for a moment, and then Lynda pulls away abruptly, dropping the glasses into her lap, wiping at her face, all business. “How are the roughs coming?” she demands, and Kenny feels himself slip back into assistant editor mode.

“Sam’s almost ready; she says give her five more minutes. And we’ve got the photos from the archive if you want to go through them.”

He’s standing up as Lynda nods again, but she doesn’t stand, just looks up at him. “I’ll be in in a minute,” she says. “I’m fine Kenny,” she continues when he frowns. “Really!”

She’s edging into her dangerous tone of voice, and he holds up his hands to ward off bodily harm. “I’ll just be inside then,” he says, heads for the door, her voice stops him.

“Kenny?”

He smiles, knowing what she wants. “I’ll come and get you if there’s any news.”

“Thanks Kenny.” Her smile is small, but genuine, and it could be his imagination, but she looks more relaxed than she did a few minutes ago.

So he nods once, opening the door without taking his eyes off her. “Any time Boss.”
>*<*>*<