Spoilers for 2x23: Heroes
Barely seconds had passed before Mac, Stella and Hawkes had dashed out of the room, on their way to arrest Pratt. Taylor watched them leave from where she was seated, remaining in Mac’s office for some time.
She was… numb. That was the only word she could use to describe how she was feeling at that moment in time. In a matter of minutes she had gone from sad to sick, horrified to thankful, scared to relieved, and back to horrified again, and now… now she was at numb.
Someone had been following her for – Pratt had been following her for, judging from the photographs, the best part of a week – not that she had even noticed. And at this moment in time, she very well could have been in Mac’s office as a rape victim. Or, even worse, lying on a slab downstairs in the morgue. And the cost of her life? Aiden’s. A woman who didn’t know her, who had never met her, had paid the ultimate price to save her life.
Taylor leant forward to turn four photographs around on Mac’s desk. One was of him and Claire. Well, she assumed it was Claire. One of him and Stella from several years ago, One of the current team, and one of the previous team. Taylor sat there staring at the immortal grinning image of Aiden for the longest time, until her stare turned into one of determination.
She got up and marched to the interview room, determined to see Pratt, from the other side of the mirror. Talking to him would come later. She had been expecting to wait there for a while before he was brought in, but he was already there. She must have been sitting in Mac’s office for a lot longer than she expected.
“You two happy? You finally got me. I’m under arrest,” Pratt smirked. “Of course, ten minutes from now, I will be at Rays. Enjoying a mushroom slice for lunch.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Mac told him.
“No? You picked me up on an unpaid parking ticket? A crap charge if ever there was one,” Pratt scoffed.
Oh, thought Taylor, and it was taxes which got Al Capone.
“Maybe,” Mac shrugged. “But we got you in custody.”
“Hmmm. My lawyer is going to have a field day with you, Detective Taylor.”
“Bring him on,” Mac responded. For a fleeting moment, Pratt looked worried.
“See, we knew the first thing you would do is cry harassment,” Stella told him, coldly, “So we covered ourselves. Documented every single part of your booking. This way you can’t go whining to your lawyer about being mistreated.”
“Yeah, I remember the photo shoot. There’s an hour of my life I will never get back,” Pratt said with a roll of his eyes.
An hour? Had she really been sitting there for that long?
“See this?” Stella continued, holding up an ear print. “It’s an ear print from the passenger side of a window of a burnt out Cadillac. And that’s your left ear.” She led up a Polaroid of Pratt’s ear and held the print over it. “Perfect match. It puts you in that Cadillac.”
“Lift up your left sleeve,” Mac told him, rather than asked him.
Pratt pulled a face. “No. I’m not saying another word without my lawyer present.”
“You don’t have to. Aiden told us everything we need.” Mac held up another Polaroid, this time of a bite mark. “That’s another photo from your booking. It’s a bite mark on your forearm. Aiden bit you.”
“We know what you did,” Stella told him, still with the same, cold tone. “And just so you know – your lawyer can’t protect you anymore.”
“And we have the evidence to make sure you never see freedom again,” Mac added.
She was… numb. That was the only word she could use to describe how she was feeling at that moment in time. In a matter of minutes she had gone from sad to sick, horrified to thankful, scared to relieved, and back to horrified again, and now… now she was at numb.
Someone had been following her for – Pratt had been following her for, judging from the photographs, the best part of a week – not that she had even noticed. And at this moment in time, she very well could have been in Mac’s office as a rape victim. Or, even worse, lying on a slab downstairs in the morgue. And the cost of her life? Aiden’s. A woman who didn’t know her, who had never met her, had paid the ultimate price to save her life.
Taylor leant forward to turn four photographs around on Mac’s desk. One was of him and Claire. Well, she assumed it was Claire. One of him and Stella from several years ago, One of the current team, and one of the previous team. Taylor sat there staring at the immortal grinning image of Aiden for the longest time, until her stare turned into one of determination.
She got up and marched to the interview room, determined to see Pratt, from the other side of the mirror. Talking to him would come later. She had been expecting to wait there for a while before he was brought in, but he was already there. She must have been sitting in Mac’s office for a lot longer than she expected.
“You two happy? You finally got me. I’m under arrest,” Pratt smirked. “Of course, ten minutes from now, I will be at Rays. Enjoying a mushroom slice for lunch.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Mac told him.
“No? You picked me up on an unpaid parking ticket? A crap charge if ever there was one,” Pratt scoffed.
Oh, thought Taylor, and it was taxes which got Al Capone.
“Maybe,” Mac shrugged. “But we got you in custody.”
“Hmmm. My lawyer is going to have a field day with you, Detective Taylor.”
“Bring him on,” Mac responded. For a fleeting moment, Pratt looked worried.
“See, we knew the first thing you would do is cry harassment,” Stella told him, coldly, “So we covered ourselves. Documented every single part of your booking. This way you can’t go whining to your lawyer about being mistreated.”
“Yeah, I remember the photo shoot. There’s an hour of my life I will never get back,” Pratt said with a roll of his eyes.
An hour? Had she really been sitting there for that long?
“See this?” Stella continued, holding up an ear print. “It’s an ear print from the passenger side of a window of a burnt out Cadillac. And that’s your left ear.” She led up a Polaroid of Pratt’s ear and held the print over it. “Perfect match. It puts you in that Cadillac.”
“Lift up your left sleeve,” Mac told him, rather than asked him.
Pratt pulled a face. “No. I’m not saying another word without my lawyer present.”
“You don’t have to. Aiden told us everything we need.” Mac held up another Polaroid, this time of a bite mark. “That’s another photo from your booking. It’s a bite mark on your forearm. Aiden bit you.”
“We know what you did,” Stella told him, still with the same, cold tone. “And just so you know – your lawyer can’t protect you anymore.”
“And we have the evidence to make sure you never see freedom again,” Mac added.
* * *
Taylor had been patient. She’d waited for Pratt to be booked and taken next door, keeping out of the way. And when she had seen Mac and Stella return to the crime lab, she headed over to booking, where to her luck, Faith Yokas and Maurice Boscorelli, Bosco, had been on duty.
Taylor knew Faith through Bosco, who she knew through Marty. She and Bosco had been on a date, once upon a time – it didn’t work out, obviously. Bosco was just too… not for her. But in Taylor’s opinion, he was the best person to be watching Pratt. When she had arrived, he had been sat opposite him, glaring, whilst launching small, rolled up pieces of paper at him, as well as sending the snide comments at him. Bosco could be misogynistic, occasionally racist, thoughtless and sexist sometimes, but he was most definitely very loyal – hurt one, hurt us all. According to Faith, he had been discussing with her, in front of Pratt, the statistics of accidental deaths in holding cells.
So, when Taylor had arrived, it hadn’t been hard to convince them to give her five minutes with him. And there she was. “Why?” she demanded.
“Why, what?”
“Why me? Why Aiden? Why all those girls?” Taylor asked, struggling to keep the emotion from her voice.
“You?” Pratt repeated, looking her up and down like she was little more than an object. “You were a means to an end.”
“A means to an end?” Taylor repeated, “Aiden?”
Pratt nodded. “Stupid little bitch wouldn’t leave me alone. And using you - someone who works in the same place - the irony was perfect.”
“That stupid little bitch is the reason you’re a few years short of having a needle jammed in your arm,” she shot at him, not correcting his mistakes.
Pratt rolled his eyes. “Not more crap about her leaving messages.”
Taylor glared at him. “She didn’t leave any messages. She came and told me it was you.” Pratt started laughing at her. “Laugh all you want, but I’m not the one sitting behind bars.”
Pratt stopped laughing. “My lawyer will get me out. I’ll be on parole in ten years. And let me tell you – it was worth it.”
“You’ll never breathe free air again.”
Taylor and Pratt turned to find Aiden standing next to Taylor. As quick as a blink, Pratt was pressed up against the back wall of the cell, looking terrified, trying to get as far away from Aiden as possible. “What the hell kind of trick is this?” he yelled.
Aiden smiled and walked through the cell bars. “This isn’t a trick, Pratt.” She walked right up to him, stopping a foot away. And then she clocked him. Punching him so hard he smacked his head back on the wall behind, before crumpling in an unconscious ball on the floor. Aiden turned to Taylor, “That was damn satisfying.”
Before Taylor could respond, she had gone. “Hey!” Taylor yelled – she couldn’t go, not without Taylor thanking her first.
“What’s the matter?” Bosco asked, walking into the room. He stopped when he saw Pratt in a heap on the floor. “What happened? Did you punch him?” he asked, looking at the newly forming bruise.
Taylor looked at him and shrugged. “There’s a wall of bars separating me from him.”
Bosco looked from Taylor to Pratt, and then back to Taylor. “You have got to teach me that trick,” he laughed.
Taylor returned the smile and headed back to the crime lab. Her father was going to be there in a short time, but there was something she wanted to know first.
Taylor knew Faith through Bosco, who she knew through Marty. She and Bosco had been on a date, once upon a time – it didn’t work out, obviously. Bosco was just too… not for her. But in Taylor’s opinion, he was the best person to be watching Pratt. When she had arrived, he had been sat opposite him, glaring, whilst launching small, rolled up pieces of paper at him, as well as sending the snide comments at him. Bosco could be misogynistic, occasionally racist, thoughtless and sexist sometimes, but he was most definitely very loyal – hurt one, hurt us all. According to Faith, he had been discussing with her, in front of Pratt, the statistics of accidental deaths in holding cells.
So, when Taylor had arrived, it hadn’t been hard to convince them to give her five minutes with him. And there she was. “Why?” she demanded.
“Why, what?”
“Why me? Why Aiden? Why all those girls?” Taylor asked, struggling to keep the emotion from her voice.
“You?” Pratt repeated, looking her up and down like she was little more than an object. “You were a means to an end.”
“A means to an end?” Taylor repeated, “Aiden?”
Pratt nodded. “Stupid little bitch wouldn’t leave me alone. And using you - someone who works in the same place - the irony was perfect.”
“That stupid little bitch is the reason you’re a few years short of having a needle jammed in your arm,” she shot at him, not correcting his mistakes.
Pratt rolled his eyes. “Not more crap about her leaving messages.”
Taylor glared at him. “She didn’t leave any messages. She came and told me it was you.” Pratt started laughing at her. “Laugh all you want, but I’m not the one sitting behind bars.”
Pratt stopped laughing. “My lawyer will get me out. I’ll be on parole in ten years. And let me tell you – it was worth it.”
“You’ll never breathe free air again.”
Taylor and Pratt turned to find Aiden standing next to Taylor. As quick as a blink, Pratt was pressed up against the back wall of the cell, looking terrified, trying to get as far away from Aiden as possible. “What the hell kind of trick is this?” he yelled.
Aiden smiled and walked through the cell bars. “This isn’t a trick, Pratt.” She walked right up to him, stopping a foot away. And then she clocked him. Punching him so hard he smacked his head back on the wall behind, before crumpling in an unconscious ball on the floor. Aiden turned to Taylor, “That was damn satisfying.”
Before Taylor could respond, she had gone. “Hey!” Taylor yelled – she couldn’t go, not without Taylor thanking her first.
“What’s the matter?” Bosco asked, walking into the room. He stopped when he saw Pratt in a heap on the floor. “What happened? Did you punch him?” he asked, looking at the newly forming bruise.
Taylor looked at him and shrugged. “There’s a wall of bars separating me from him.”
Bosco looked from Taylor to Pratt, and then back to Taylor. “You have got to teach me that trick,” he laughed.
Taylor returned the smile and headed back to the crime lab. Her father was going to be there in a short time, but there was something she wanted to know first.
* * *
Mac was back in his office with Stella, busy chatting. The two stopped when Taylor walked in. “How can I help you, Taylor?”
“How did you know that Aiden biting that arm rest also meant that she bit Pratt?”
“Homicide case six years ago,” Mac explained. “A single mother was robbed and murdered on her way home from work, and our only suspect – circumstantial evidence. Not enough for a warrant. The case wasn’t going to pan out, but there was this young detective who refused to give up. Wherever the suspect went, the detective was watching, waiting for him to make a mistake.”
“Did the suspect make a mistake?” Stella asked.
“The detective was so in his head, the suspect lashed out and took a swing, and that was enough to arrest him. Patting him down, later on, the detective noticed a wound on his arm. A bite mark from the victim.”
“And that young detective was Aiden,” Stella concluded.
Mac nodded. “Aiden had to know that Pratt was going to kill her, that she was going to die. So she left a clue. She knew I’d understand.”
Taylor stared at him. The numb feeling was back.
“I can stick around if you want?” Stella asked
“That’s okay. There’s actually something I need to take care of,” he paused. “Actually,” he sighed. “You want to come with me?”
Stella smiled at him. “Of course.”
Taylor smiled and left the office. Minutes later, there was a slapping of heels on the tiles behind her. Taylor stopped and turned – Stella was charging after her. “What’s the matter, Stella?”
“Did Aiden really come to see you?” Taylor nodded. “And you saw how she died?” Taylor sighed, looked down at her feet and nodded again. “Oh, you poor baby,” said Stella, wrapping her arms around her.
Taylor sighed into her shoulder, “She died for me, Stell. If I had been paying more attention, then maybe-”
“Maybe he would have found someone else. Don’t beat yourself up on maybes, Taylor,” Stella pulled away and looked at her, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Did Aiden say anything to you?”
Taylor shook her head. “No, but,” she grinned. “I did witness her land a cracking punch on Pratt.”
“You went to see Pratt?” Stella asked, sharply.
Taylor nodded, “I needed to.”
Stella stared at her, and then nodded. “A cracking punch, eh?”
“How did you know that Aiden biting that arm rest also meant that she bit Pratt?”
“Homicide case six years ago,” Mac explained. “A single mother was robbed and murdered on her way home from work, and our only suspect – circumstantial evidence. Not enough for a warrant. The case wasn’t going to pan out, but there was this young detective who refused to give up. Wherever the suspect went, the detective was watching, waiting for him to make a mistake.”
“Did the suspect make a mistake?” Stella asked.
“The detective was so in his head, the suspect lashed out and took a swing, and that was enough to arrest him. Patting him down, later on, the detective noticed a wound on his arm. A bite mark from the victim.”
“And that young detective was Aiden,” Stella concluded.
Mac nodded. “Aiden had to know that Pratt was going to kill her, that she was going to die. So she left a clue. She knew I’d understand.”
Taylor stared at him. The numb feeling was back.
“I can stick around if you want?” Stella asked
“That’s okay. There’s actually something I need to take care of,” he paused. “Actually,” he sighed. “You want to come with me?”
Stella smiled at him. “Of course.”
Taylor smiled and left the office. Minutes later, there was a slapping of heels on the tiles behind her. Taylor stopped and turned – Stella was charging after her. “What’s the matter, Stella?”
“Did Aiden really come to see you?” Taylor nodded. “And you saw how she died?” Taylor sighed, looked down at her feet and nodded again. “Oh, you poor baby,” said Stella, wrapping her arms around her.
Taylor sighed into her shoulder, “She died for me, Stell. If I had been paying more attention, then maybe-”
“Maybe he would have found someone else. Don’t beat yourself up on maybes, Taylor,” Stella pulled away and looked at her, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Did Aiden say anything to you?”
Taylor shook her head. “No, but,” she grinned. “I did witness her land a cracking punch on Pratt.”
“You went to see Pratt?” Stella asked, sharply.
Taylor nodded, “I needed to.”
Stella stared at her, and then nodded. “A cracking punch, eh?”
* * *
Right at six o’clock, a naval officer arrived at the crime lab to take Corporal Price’s belongings back to the ship so that they could be returned to his family. Taylor watched as he drove off, then she and her father walked to the nearest bar serving food, Chimes. Not that Taylor was eating anything (she fed her father the excuse of having an upset stomach – only a half-lie.)
She had just finished explaining about her relationship with the CSIs (after deciding that it wasn’t the time or the place to try to explain about seeing ghosts), when she caught Danny’s voice ringing through the bar, laughing. She followed the voice to the source of the noise, and spotted him sat at a table with Lindsay, Sheldon, Flack and Stella, all with a beer in their hands.
“Would you like to join your friends?” her father asked her, following her gaze.
Taylor smiled and shook her head. “No, it’s alright.”
Captain Turner gave her a puzzled look,. “I would like to meet your friends properly, get to know who’s been looking after my little girl.”
“I know, Daddy,” she sighed. “They lost someone today. I think I’ll just stay here, let them say goodbye.”
Her father nodded. “Very well. But it doesn’t put them in the clear, you know. I will still want to meet them.”
Taylor smiled. “One day. For now, I want to make the most with being alone with you, before you have to go back.”
Captain Turner leant over the table and gave her a kiss on her forehead. “Now, you mentioned something earlier about a car?”
“Yeah. I think I’m going to buy a Mustang. A nice shiny new one,” Taylor explained, her eyes widening in excitement over the thought.
“Well, in that case, I shall arrange for some money to be transferred to your account.”
Taylor shook her head. “No, thank you, Daddy. You don’t have to do that. I can buy it myself – the paper pays me quite well.”
“I know I don’t have to. However, I have never bought you a car, and that is one thing a father should be able to do for his daughter,” he informed her, firmly. “Besides, I’m not having you saying you’re buying a new car, to go out and buy a shed of a second hand one, because you thought you would save yourself some money. If something were to happen to you because you broke down somewhere, I’d never forgive myself. And you had better join the AAA.”
“Daddy, Chris taught me enough about mechanics-”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Captain Turner cut her off. “It’s one thing to be able to change a tire, or even mend a radiator, but I will not have you doing that on the side of the interstate.”
Taylor nodded. He had a point. “How is Chris?” she asked, changing the subject.
“I spoke to him a while back. He’s fine,” he told her shortly.
Taylor was about to press for more information, when they were interrupted by someone coming to their table. It was one of Captain Turner’s naval officers.
“Sorry to interrupt, sir,” he said, saluting. “But there is an urgent message from the senator requesting you take the next available flight to Washington.”
Captain Turner nodded and got to his feet, “I will be right out, private.”
“Daddy!” Taylor exclaimed as the officer left.
“Taylor,” don’t complain,” he snapped. “You know all about my job.”
“Yes, sir,” she muttered.
His expression softened and he wrapped his arms around her, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I will call you from D.C. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she whispered. He gave her a smile and left. No sooner had he walked out of the door, the waitress returned, handing over his credit card. Taylor snatched it off her, yelling an apology over her shoulder, as she ran through the tables, sending at least one chair flying in the process. The car was pulling away as she ran onto the pavement, but it stopped as she got near it. Her father wound the window down. “You forgot you card,” she told him as she handed it over.
“Thank you.”
“I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you, too,” he told her before he had to drive away.
Taylor smiled sadly as she wiped the tears away.
“Are you alright?” Flack’s voice broke her thoughts.
Taylor turned around and found him with Danny, standing there, watching her. She nodded. “Just saying goodbye.”
“I didn’t know you were in there,” Danny said apologetically. “Otherwise I would have invited you both over.”
Taylor smiled. “No, we wouldn’t have wanted to disturbed you.” She yawned. “Look, I’m going to head home.”
“Come in and join us,” Danny requested.
Taylor frowned, “I don’t know. I didn’t know Aiden.”
“And?” asked Flack.
“Well, it would seem… wrong.” More like, I’m the real reason they’re in there celebrating her life.
“Nonsense,” Danny told her firmly, grabbing her hand and firmly pulling her towards the door of the bar.
She had just finished explaining about her relationship with the CSIs (after deciding that it wasn’t the time or the place to try to explain about seeing ghosts), when she caught Danny’s voice ringing through the bar, laughing. She followed the voice to the source of the noise, and spotted him sat at a table with Lindsay, Sheldon, Flack and Stella, all with a beer in their hands.
“Would you like to join your friends?” her father asked her, following her gaze.
Taylor smiled and shook her head. “No, it’s alright.”
Captain Turner gave her a puzzled look,. “I would like to meet your friends properly, get to know who’s been looking after my little girl.”
“I know, Daddy,” she sighed. “They lost someone today. I think I’ll just stay here, let them say goodbye.”
Her father nodded. “Very well. But it doesn’t put them in the clear, you know. I will still want to meet them.”
Taylor smiled. “One day. For now, I want to make the most with being alone with you, before you have to go back.”
Captain Turner leant over the table and gave her a kiss on her forehead. “Now, you mentioned something earlier about a car?”
“Yeah. I think I’m going to buy a Mustang. A nice shiny new one,” Taylor explained, her eyes widening in excitement over the thought.
“Well, in that case, I shall arrange for some money to be transferred to your account.”
Taylor shook her head. “No, thank you, Daddy. You don’t have to do that. I can buy it myself – the paper pays me quite well.”
“I know I don’t have to. However, I have never bought you a car, and that is one thing a father should be able to do for his daughter,” he informed her, firmly. “Besides, I’m not having you saying you’re buying a new car, to go out and buy a shed of a second hand one, because you thought you would save yourself some money. If something were to happen to you because you broke down somewhere, I’d never forgive myself. And you had better join the AAA.”
“Daddy, Chris taught me enough about mechanics-”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Captain Turner cut her off. “It’s one thing to be able to change a tire, or even mend a radiator, but I will not have you doing that on the side of the interstate.”
Taylor nodded. He had a point. “How is Chris?” she asked, changing the subject.
“I spoke to him a while back. He’s fine,” he told her shortly.
Taylor was about to press for more information, when they were interrupted by someone coming to their table. It was one of Captain Turner’s naval officers.
“Sorry to interrupt, sir,” he said, saluting. “But there is an urgent message from the senator requesting you take the next available flight to Washington.”
Captain Turner nodded and got to his feet, “I will be right out, private.”
“Daddy!” Taylor exclaimed as the officer left.
“Taylor,” don’t complain,” he snapped. “You know all about my job.”
“Yes, sir,” she muttered.
His expression softened and he wrapped his arms around her, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I will call you from D.C. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she whispered. He gave her a smile and left. No sooner had he walked out of the door, the waitress returned, handing over his credit card. Taylor snatched it off her, yelling an apology over her shoulder, as she ran through the tables, sending at least one chair flying in the process. The car was pulling away as she ran onto the pavement, but it stopped as she got near it. Her father wound the window down. “You forgot you card,” she told him as she handed it over.
“Thank you.”
“I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you, too,” he told her before he had to drive away.
Taylor smiled sadly as she wiped the tears away.
“Are you alright?” Flack’s voice broke her thoughts.
Taylor turned around and found him with Danny, standing there, watching her. She nodded. “Just saying goodbye.”
“I didn’t know you were in there,” Danny said apologetically. “Otherwise I would have invited you both over.”
Taylor smiled. “No, we wouldn’t have wanted to disturbed you.” She yawned. “Look, I’m going to head home.”
“Come in and join us,” Danny requested.
Taylor frowned, “I don’t know. I didn’t know Aiden.”
“And?” asked Flack.
“Well, it would seem… wrong.” More like, I’m the real reason they’re in there celebrating her life.
“Nonsense,” Danny told her firmly, grabbing her hand and firmly pulling her towards the door of the bar.
Originally posted 21/07/2006