Title: Bad Moon Rising in Vegas
By: Tara Keezer
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Gen
Crossover: Too many to list. Though there is a list at the end of the fic :)
Notes: I wrote this as an exercise to see how many crossovers I could comfortably shove into a single short story. The answer? Eleven, and that’s probably too many. Consider yourself warned.
Summary: There were these guys, and then there were these other guys...

The dark green Taurus, a late-model rental, kept pace with a somewhat older and battered maroon Saturn as both cars raced out of Las Vegas and into the desert. The driver of the Taurus shouted through the open window, “So help me god, Fraser, when we get out of this, I’m gonna kick you in the head so hard you — Jesus!”

The Saturn and Taurus both swerved to avoid a coyote and bird that had chosen the wrong moment to run along the middle of the road. When the cars came back together again, the driver of the Taurus continued, “What the hell is the matter with you? What part of give it up don’t you get? Are you trying to —”

At that moment, the Saturn and Taurus went over a low, wide bump that stretched across four lanes of desert highway. They went airborne briefly, landing hard on the other side.

~*~*~


The dark blue Expedition, owned by a visitor to Nevada, kept pace with a white Jeep Cherokee as both cars raced into Las Vegas from the desert. The driver of the Expedition muttered from behind raised glass, “So help me god, Jim, when we get out of this, I’m gonna send you into a two-week zone, just so I can — Jesus!”

The Expedition and Jeep swerved to avoid what seemed to be a perfectly round sinkhole in the middle of the road. When the trucks came back together again, the driver of the Expedition continued, “What the hell is wrong with calling the Las Vegas Police Department? What part of cooperative policing don’t you get? Are you trying to —”

At that moment, the Jeep and Expedition went over a low, wide bump that stretched across four lanes of desert highway. They went airborne briefly, landing hard on the other side.

~*~*~


The driver of the Taurus slammed his hand against the dashboard and yelled, “That’s it! Dammit, Fraser, get your ass —” At that moment, he looked up, and instead of seeing a flash of familiar red serge, he saw instead a dark windbreaker. “Who the fuck are you?”

~*~*~


The driver of the Expedition slammed his hand against the dashboard and muttered, “That’s it! Dammit, Jim, get your ass —” At that moment, he looked up and saw a flash of bright red on top of the Jeep. He lowered the window to yell out, “Who the hell are you?”

~*~*~


Moments later, a helicopter hovered in front of the two sedans racing into the desert, forcing both to slow down. When the driver of the Saturn appeared ready to drive off the road to avoid the police, the man on top of the car leaned over the driver’s side far enough so he could punch the driver through the open window. The car stalled out when its driver slumped unconscious, his foot slipping off the clutch.

The Taurus came to a somewhat jerkier stop, while the man behind the wheel debated whether or not to ignore the helicopter in favor of going back to collect his partner. In the end, the three police officers pointing rifles at the Taurus decided him. He put his hands flat above him and waited.

~*~*~


Moments later, a phalanx of five county sheriff cars surrounded and forced to a halt the Expedition and Jeep. The driver of the Jeep burst into tears as the man on top of his vehicle kept up a soft, distraught scolding, and within a moment or two, he opened the door and fell out onto the road, begging the sheriffs, “Please! I confess! Just get me away from him!”

The driver of the Expedition looked into his rearview mirror and sighed at what he saw there. Then he put his hands flat above him and waited for everything to get sorted out, one way or another.

“Jesus.” Brass read through the preliminary report, shaking his head the entire time. “Jesus!”

“Finally found God, Jim?” Grissom leaned against the doorframe, his eyebrows raised in amused curiosity.

Brass waved Grissom in and told him to sit down. “Did you hear about those car chases this afternoon?”

“Four cars, two chases, one stretch of highway, right?” Grissom accepted the file Brass handed him. “The timing’s a little odd, but —”

“The timing’s got nothing to do with it. Well, it does, but only because it happened out near Al Cavanaugh’s ranch. You know him?”

“I know of him, but I’ve never had the pleasure.” Grissom frowned as he read the first paragraph. “There was a speed bump on the highway?”

“Yeah, courtesy of Al. He doesn’t think traffic should go faster than twenty past his place. He’s always doing crazy shit like that to slow drivers down.” Brass pursed his lips to fight back the grin that threatened. “Keep reading.”

“This can’t be right.” Grissom looked up. “They aren’t serious.”

“They are. What’s more, we’re pretty sure the copter caught the exchange on tape.”

“Jesus!” Grissom shook his head as he continued reading. “Wait — neither one ended up in the hospital?”

“Million to one odds, but they both landed on the money.” Brass took a deep breath. “I’m about to interview the cops from the cars. Want to sit in?”

“Oh yeah.”

~*~*~


Sergeant Reilly took a deep breath and tried again. “So, Corporal Fraser, the guy in the Jeep, he wasn’t your purse snatcher, right?”

“That’s correct, Sergeant.” Though his enthusiasm was evident, Fraser maintained strict professionalism as he told his story. “We were fortunate that the miscreant’s car was within two spaces of our own in the parking lot.”

“And rather than get into the rental with your partner, you chose to —”

“Jump on top of the Saturn, yes.” He rubbed one thumb along his eyebrow and looked vaguely embarrassed. “In retrospect, I suppose I should have ridden with Ray.”

“You think?” Reilly turned to the other man in the interview room. “How about your friend, Mr. Sandburg? He end up riding the Jeep for the same reason?”

“Not exactly.” Blair started talking quickly. “See, we’d stopped to find an old ghost town when Jim spotted Henry Mitchell driving toward us, and —”

“Through the windshield?”

Blair barely broke stride as he answered, “No, Jim recognized the car,” but it was enough to garner a sharp look from Fraser. “Anyway, we could tell he wasn’t going to stop, so Jim climbed a little higher up, and when Henry drove past us, Jim jumped on the Jeep. I had to follow and catch up, you know?”

~*~*~


In interview room three, Detective Vega glared at the man in front of him. “Nice story, Armando. Want to try again?”

“I’m telling you, I’m not Armando Langoustini. You don’t believe me? Send my prints to the FBI. They’ll confirm it for you.”

“Don’t worry, we already —”

“Vega?” Catherine Willows poked her head into the room. “A minute, please?”

When he joined her in the hallway, he said, “Come on, Catherine. You know what this arrest could mean for me?”

“Possibly bad times, my friend.” She nodded down the hall. “There’s a woman here — Stella Kowalski — she says the man in there is her husband, one Raymond Vecchio, and that she’s his lawyer. Judy looked her up for me. She’s a former ADA from Chicago.”

“Jesus.”

~*~*~


Outside interview five, Nick asked, “What do you think?”

Vartann, looking more than a little disgusted, answered, “I’d say there’s a full moon tonight, but that’s not ’til next week. Did you hear about those chases this afternoon? And the body they found?”

“Yeah. I did. I don’t envy Reilly and Brass for trying to get that mess sorted out.” Nick glanced in the window to the interview room. “But what about this guy? What do you think of his story?”

“It’s a load of crap. A blue police box landing in the middle of the road and then disappearing?” Vartann shook his head. “He was under the influence when he crashed. I say we book him and do some real work tonight.”

“Blood alcohol was zero, and the officer on the scene said Osborn was lucid and coherent.”

“So he’s used to hiding it.” Vartann put his hand on the doorknob. “I’m taking him downstairs.”

Nick objected immediately. “Let’s wait until tox comes back on his urine sample.”

“Nick!”

“Do you really want to get sued for false arrest?”

~*~*~


“Jim Ellison?”

Ellison looked up. “Yeah. Cascade PD”

“I’m Captain Jim Brass. This is Gil Grissom, one of our crime scene investigators.” Brass and Grissom moved into the room, with Grissom taking a seat opposite Ellison. Brass looked at the other man in the room. “Stanley Kowalski?”

“I go by Ray, but yeah.” After a moment, he added, “Uh, Chicago PD.”

“You’re here for the convention, right?” Brass didn’t bother to smile at either man. Smiling was for suspects who didn’t know any better than to believe a cop during an interrogation.

When the two men nodded, Grissom opened the folder he’d carried in. “I’ve read through the preliminary report, but I wanted to go over what happened when you hit the speed bump. Detective Ellison?”

Ellison looked off to his right and shrugged. “I was on top of the Jeep, we hit a hell of a bump, and I went airborne.”

“And managed to land on a Saturn traveling in the opposite direction,” Grissom added. “Do you remember passing anyone while you were flying?”

Frowning a little, Ellison answered, “No. I was more interested in finding a place to touch down.”

“Understandable.” Brass turned to Kowalski. “Did you see your partner fly off the Saturn?”

“I didn’t even see the freakin’ speed bump until we were on it.” Kowalski squirmed a little in embarrassment. “Look, are you gonna charge us with something, or is this gonna be like a traffic ticket?”

Grissom raised his eyebrows. “You in a hurry to get somewhere, Detective?”

“Not right now. Turns out my ex is in town. We’re supposed to meet for drinks tomorrow night, catch up on old times. But if you’re gonna charge me, I want her over here tonight. She’s my lawyer.”

~*~*~


Al Robbins was just arriving for his shift when he heard raised voices in the morgue. He opened the door to find Andrew, his newest assistant, arguing with an older man.

“Gentlemen!” They both looked at Al. “I realize the dead don’t care, but a morgue is no place to fight. If you’re having a disagreement, go elsewhere.”

“I’m sorry, Doctor.” Andrew glanced at the other man. “Rube and I were having a difference of opinion.”

“I don’t care.” Al waved a folder. “Before you get out of here, prep Margaret Mitchell’s body for autopsy. She’s been in the back of a Jeep for two days, and she’s not getting any fresher.”

“But —”

At Al’s glare, Andrew subsided and did what he was told. When Rube went to help, Al said, “What do you think you’re doing?”

Rube smiled easily and opened the door to where Margaret was stored. “Just helping out a friend.”

“You don’t work here. Get out.”

As soon as the unit door was open, Rube reached in and caressed her foot. “You’re right. I don’t work here. And I really have no call to upset Andrew during his shift.” He walked past Al then paused at the door, turning to face Andrew. “Say hi to Tess for me, will you?”

After he was gone, Al gave Andrew a hard look. “What was that all about?”

“Professional disagreement is all.” Andrew brought Margaret out the rest of the way. “Did you hear how her body was found this afternoon?”

Nick entered interview five. “I have your results back, Mr. Osborn. —”

“Call me Oz.”

“Right. Oz. You’re, uh clean, which you knew.”

“Yeah.”

“The ticket the officer gave you at the accident, you’ll have to pay that before you leave town.” At Oz’s frown Nick asked, “Do you have enough money?”

“I can pay the ticket or fix my van. Not both.” Oz thought for a moment. “Is there a phone I can use? I need to call my parents.”

“Where are they?”

“Sunnydale. In California.”

“Give me their number,” Nick said. “I’ll call them for you.”

~*~*~


“Your work on ethnically closed societies is absolutely fascinating,” Fraser said. “I’ve found it to be incredibly useful when having to communicate with organized crime leaders.”

“You wouldn’t believe what I had to go through to get that data.” Blair laughed. “I stayed with this one family in New Jersey, the Sopr — um — the Soproskis, for six months. Had to sign a non-disclosure agreement you wouldn’t believe, but in the end, it was worth it, just for a glimpse into their mores and traditions, you know?”

Reilly came back into the room just as Blair was winding down. “Okay, I’ve talked to my boss. We’re not charging either of you with anything at this point, so you’re free to leave.”

Blair stood up and tried to shoot out the door. “Not just yet, Sandburg. No charges, but you still have a ticket for reckless driving. You have to pay that before you leave.”

“Oh, man!”

~*~*~


Ray Kowalski exited interview two, grumbling about the traffic ticket he had to pay, when he walked straight into another man. “Geez, watch —”

“Billy?” The other man started talking quickly. “Man, I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the audition this afternoon. There was this thing in the middle of the road, and I —”

“Billy? Who the fuck is Billy?”

“You are, aren’t you? Billy Tallent, right? With Jennifur?”

“Never heard of him, and I never dated a Jennifer.” Ray brushed past him. “Where the fuck do I pay a traffic fine?”

~*~*~


“Ray!”

“Stella!” Vecchio hugged his wife close. “I’m so glad to see you.”

“Me, too.” She leaned back from him and took a good look at his face. “You’re tired.”

“It’s been a long day.” He cupped her cheek. “I’m sorry about this. The FBI swore up and down they got word out that Langoustini is dead.”

“It’s not your fault,” she said in a soothing voice. “Let’s just go back to the hotel, all right?”

“Hotel.” Vecchio gave her a goofy grin. “We can stay there for the next four days and not show our face outside until it’s time to leave, right?”

She frowned. “We’re meeting Ray and Corporal Fraser for dinner tonight, remember?”

“Oh geez.”

“I know you aren’t happy about them being together, but Fraser’s your best friend. You’re going.” Her pronouncement made, Stella turned and walked away. “Come along, Ray.”

~*~*~


“I don’t know why I have to pay your traffic ticket, Sandburg.”

“If you’d gotten into the Expedition like normal people, I could have called for backup, and I wouldn’t have gotten the fine. Pay up, man.”

“You in a hurry to get somewhere?”

“Hell yes. The Strip calls to us.”

“We’re not gambling,” Jim said tersely.

“Nope, but we are testing how you do with all that input.” Blair bounced lightly on the balls of his feet. “Time’s a-wasting. Let’s go.”

Grissom caught up with Brass just before the end of the shift. “Want to hear the final score for the last eighteen hours?”

Brass looked at the clock, waited for the hour hand to land on twelve, and pulled a bottle of whisky out of his drawer. He grabbed two glasses from the same drawer then poured two fingers of whisky into each.

“Hit me.”

Grissom accepted one of the glasses and started talking. “Sandburg, driver of the Expedition, is a civilian observer who follows Ellison around in Cascade, Washington. Henry Mitchell is wanted for questioning in Cascade, which is why Ellison recognized the vehicle.”

“Margaret Mitchell was Henry’s wife?” Brass took a sip and felt his tension start to ease up a little.

“His aunt. She wrote romances — bad romances — which is what finally made Henry snap.” Grissom took a sip as well. “In her most recent book, she described a rejection Henry had received from a woman he was deeply interested in. When she didn’t apologize, he killed her.”

“But that’s not why he was wanted for questioning?”

“No. Cascade suspects him of smuggling rubber ducks into the country.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not. Apparently, rubber ducks are a hot commodity item, especially in Chicago.” Grissom raised the folder. “Shall I continue?”

“Go ahead.” Brass grimaced and rubbed his belly. “I think I’m getting an ulcer.”

“You shouldn’t drink.”

“Talk, already,” Brass said, not nearly as irritated as he sounded.

“At any rate, we found all this out when Dr. Saunders assessed Mitchell last night.”

“Daniel Saunders? I thought he retired.”

“He did, but Phil Kane is on vacation this week, so Saunders is filling in.” Grissom took another sip. “He also found out that Henry killed his aunt in Cascade, so we’ll have to send him back to Washington.”

Brass nodded. “I’ll notify the DA’s office up there so they can get the paperwork done. What about the other guy? The one in the Saturn?”

“Sam Spade.”

“Jesus.”

“There’s a church right around the corner if you feel the need to pray.”

“Shut up and tell me about Mr. Spade.”

“Not much to tell other than it turns out that the purse he snatched was holding a half-million dollars in uncut diamonds.” Grissom’s lips twitched upward. “For some reason, the owner of the purse hasn’t yet come forward to claim it.”

Brass rolled his eyes. “Great. So we have to let him go?”

“Yes, but not to the general public. Interpol wants to talk to him about a certain statuette that went missing some years ago. They’ll be sending an agent later this afternoon and deciding whether or not to press charges.”

“What about the Mountie? What’s his story?”

Grissom looked down at his folder and read out loud, “He first went to Chicago on the trail of the killers of his father. For reasons that didn’t need exploring at that juncture, he stayed and became a liaison with U.S. law enforcement.”

“You didn’t leave it at that, did you?”

“Of course not.” Grissom took a long swallow of his drink. “But it’s a story that takes exactly two hours to tell, and I didn’t think you wanted to stay here that long.”

“You’re right, I don’t.” Brass knocked back the rest of his drink. “I heard a rumor that Vega arrested Langoustini for jay-walking of all things. You know anything about that?”

“Turns out it wasn’t Langoustini. It was another Chicago detective, Ray Vecchio. He’s here on his honeymoon.”

“Sucks to be him.”

“Maybe. There’s something strange about that, though, with the FBI grabbing all our files on Langoustini a few hours after Vega brought Vecchio in.”

Brass sat up suddenly. “What? I didn’t hear about that.”

“Mobley was with them.” Grissom shot him an apologetic look. “I thought you knew. Anyway, turns out Langoustini is dead, which is why they took what we have.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Since when does the FBI make sense?” Grissom shrugged. “At least no one is getting sued for false arrest.”

“Yeah, but —”

“Let it go, Jim. It’s been a long shift, and I want to go home.”

After a moment, Brass nodded reluctantly. “Okay. Home it is. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Damn straight you will,” Grissom murmured.

You will find all the crossovers included in the order in which they appeared.

due South — Rights are held by Alliance Atlantis and the two Pauls (Haggis and Gross). Ray Kowalski, Benton Fraser, Ray Vecchio and Stella Kowalski all made an appearance.

The Sentinel — Rights are held by Pet Fly Productions. Blair Sandburg and Jim Ellison made an appearance.

Road Runner — Rights are held by Warner Bros. Road Runner and Wily Coyote made appearance. The hole in the road was supplied by Acme.

CSI: Crime Scene Investigation — Rights are held by Alliance Atlantis and Anthony Zuiker. Jim Brass, Gil Grissom, Reilly, Vega, Catherine Willows, Nick Stokes, Vartann and Al Robbins all made an appearance. Sara kept trying to sneak in, and I had to have firm words with her, because she was still in San Francisco in August 1998.

Buffy: the Vampire Slayer — Rights are held by Fox and Joss Whedon. Daniel ÒOzÓ Osborn made an appearance, and I may well have spelled his name wrong (it’s been a while).

Doctor Who — Rights are held by British Broadcasting Corporation and Russell T. Davies. The TARDIS made a wrong turn somewhere and landed in front of Oz, but it has itself all sorted out now.

Touched by an Angel — Rights are held by John Masius. Andrew, the angel of death, was the one working in the morgue.

Dead Like Me — Rights are held by MGM and Bryan Fuller. Rube was the one arguing with Andrew about just who got credit for Margaret Mitchell’s soul.

The Sopranos — Rights are held by HBO and David Chase. None of them showed up in Vegas, but they will if Blair violates his NDA with them.

Hard Core Logo — Rights are held by Bruce MacDonald and Noel Baker. While neither Billy Tallent nor Jennifur actually appeared in the fic, Oz was on his way to an audition with them when the TARDIS blipped in and blipped out.

And the award for most obscure fandom reference goes to...

The Chosen — Rights are held by Chaim Potok. Danny Saunders was gracious enough to help out with Henry Mitchell.