Title: Screaming Senses
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Greg Sanders/Ryan Wolfe
Fandom: CSI: Vegas/CSI: Miami
Rating: R
Table: 3, csi50
Prompt: 46, Five senses
Author's Note: Continuation of Dangerous Acquaintances.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Greg Sanders or Ryan Wolfe, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.***
Greg looked over at Brass, a frown marring his brow. "So, what do we do now?" he asked, keeping his voice soft, though he didn't know why. There was no one in the Denali other than the two of them, and no one was listening in on their conversation as far as he knew.
"So what do we do now?" he asked, trying to keep the uneasiness out of his voice. "Just wait until that guy says something else that might be incriminating? We can't leave Ryan in there with him. There's no telling what he might try to do."
"We wait until he says more that could incriminate him," Brass told him calmly, glancing sideways at the young man. Greg tried to relax, to seem as though this was nothing more than a routine stakeout, not what could be a life or death situation for his boyfriend.
Ryan had told the team what Santos had done to him the first time they'd met, but Greg wasn't sure if Brass knew, and if he didn't, then he wasn't going to spill the story. Ryan was entitled to his privacy, and if he didn't want a lot of people to know, then they wouldn't.
But it would all more than likely come out when Santos had his day in court -- unless, of course, that court date was in Miami and not here in Vegas. Greg was sure it would be; after all, that was where the man's crimes had been committed.
Still, Ryan might have to go back there to testify, and if he did, then it could all come out. It could even end up splashed across the front pages of newspapers, and Greg was positive that was something Ryan would much rather avoid, if at all possible.
He wished more than anything that they had a camera as well as wire on Ryan; it made him nervous to not know exactly what was going on, with Ryan in someone's sights. He and Santos had been inside that warehouse for what seemed like an awfully long time to Greg.
What was that bastard doing to Ryan? There was no sound on the wire other than breathing; no words exchanged, no sounds that might signify that there was some kind of combat going on. There were only indrawn breaths, and the sound of footsteps.
All of Greg's five senses were telling him that something could be wrong; the hair was standing up on the back of his neck, and he had a premonition that something inside that building wasn't right. But how could he tell Brass that, when there was no obvious problem?
He didn't want to just sit here and say nothing, not if he was correct and Ryan could be in danger. But at the same time, he couldn't tell Brass that he simply had this feeling of something not being right. The chief of police wouldn't buy that for a second.
What could he say to convince Brass that something was wrong and that they should try to make some kind of contact with Ryan? He had no words, only the feeling in his gut that something had gone wrong, that the man he loved was in danger.
"I don't feel right about this," Brass said abruptly, shaking his head. "Ryan should have said something a while ago. If everything was okay, he'd give us some kind of verbal clue that it's all going according to his plan. But he's been quiet for too long now."
Greg nodded, relieved that Brass seemed to be on the same wavelength with him. "I think so, too," he said, his voice very soft. "I just feel it in my gut. Something's wrong. I guess it's because he's my partner and --" He took a deep breath before continuing, "I care a lot about him."
"I understand." To Greg's astonishment, Brass reached over to pat his knee. "I've had partners in the past who I cared about like brothers. I know what it's like when somebody you're close to is in trouble. We're not going to let him get hurt, Greg."
Greg nodded, swallowing hard and hoping that Brass was telling the truth. But before either man could say another word, or even move to pull out a cell phone and speak to the rest of the team, they heard Ryan's voice -- sounding calm, even nonchalant.
"So why are we here?" he asked, nothing in his voice giving any indication that there was anything wrong. He could have been addressing an innocuous question to one of the CSI team, judging from his tone. "I thought you were trying to be all threatening and badass."
"I don't need to try to threaten anyone, Mr. Wolfe," Santos answered, his voice taking on a definite menacing quality. "If I want to get rid of you, then I will. As I've said, you wouldn't be the first, and you'll be far from the last."
That's what you think, Greg told himself, glancing over at Brass again. Those words should be more than enough for them to be able to hold Santos in a jail cell while evidence of any of those prior crimes was found -- though he would probably be taken to Miami.
All of his senses screamed at him to get out of the car and run into that building, to go to his boyfriend's rescue. But at the moment, it didn't seem that Ryan needed rescuing. There hadn't been any indication that he was in trouble.
Greg took a deep breath, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the seat. He had to calm his senses, had to hold himself back until Brass said that it was time for them to go in. He couldn't leap ahead. He had to be willing to let others take the lead.
When he closed his eyes, it was as though Ryan was right here beside him. All five of his senses could feel his boyfriend's presence; he had to hold on to that calmness, that knowledge of the whole team being here to back Ryan up if he needed any kind of help.
His senses had come alive with thoughts of the man he loved. He could see Ryan's smile, touch the softness of his skin, hear his voice, smell his cologne, even taste his kiss if he concentrated hard enough. Ryan wasn't far away, and he was going to be all right.
Whatever was happening, he had to trust Ryan to give them some kind of sign if something went wrong, instead of merely paying attention to his own senses and letting his imagination get the better of him. He had to let Ryan take control, and trust that his boyfriend knew what he was doing.
Even as that thought went through Greg's mind, there was the sound of a scuffle -- and Santos' voice, louder and more menacing than ever. "A wire? You've been wearing a wire? That wasn't part of our deal, Mr. Wolfe. You're going to regret doing this."
Then there was silence. Greg and Brass exchanged a look, then both men reached for the doors of the van and opened them hurriedly, getting out and heading for the door of the warehouse. Greg could see that the rest of the team, as well as several cops, were there along with them.
He took another deep breath, not protesting when Brass moved in front of him, as though to shield him from whatever they might encounter when the doors were opened. His five senses were screaming now, telling him that he might not want to see what was about to be revealed.***
Next story in series - Part of the Plan.
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