A/N. Continuing with my attempts at fanfic clichés is 'Being undercover brings out A & B's true feelings,' and again my take has a slightly kinky edge to it – Hope you like it.
P.S. Apologies for the awful club name – I couldn't think of anything better.
A/N.2. I've been working on this story, on and off, for way over a year now. In the mean time CSI:NY was cancelled, which threw me off. As such I can't guarantee the quality here, but I hope you enjoy it anyways, since it's probably my last NY story.
Rain. The one thing Mac truly hated to see when he woke up for work. Rain meant compromised evidence. It meant a rush to get things collected before there was nothing left to collect. Worse than rain was the torrential downpour New York City was known for, which happened to be what was happening right outside Mac's window as he wrote down the details of the call-out.
Luckily, the rain eased by the time Mac was ready to leave, and was gone completely when he got to the crime scene. Unfortunately the scene was drenched; as was Detective Flack. Mac almost smiled at the exasperated look on Don's face as he stood, soaking wet and waiting for CSI.
"You been here long?" Mac asked sympathetically.
"Twenty minutes," Don mumbled. "But it was long enough." Flack shook the rain off his jacket before leading Mac over to the dead body.
"What do we have?" Flack consulted his notepad before answering.
"Male, mid-twenties. No ID. Looks like he's been strangled. Hawkes took a look and guessed with some sort of belt. It doesn't look like he's been redressed, so odds are he was killed in that." Flack indicated, and Mac took a moment to really look at the young man. He was wearing a pair of tight PVC jeans and an equally tight, olive green vest.
"So, we're thinking he came from a club," Mac surmised. Don nodded his agreement.
"Hawkes is canvassing the local area with a few uniforms; left the evidence collecting for you." Mac nodded distractedly as he looked down at the body.
"You got something?" Flack asked, immediately paying attention to Mac's stance.
"There's a stamp on his hand," Mac mumbled, leaning down to take a picture of the mark. "If we can match it to a club, we can retrace his steps."
"Get me a copy, and I'll circulate it with the uniforms," Don offered. Mac smiled in appreciation before continuing to process the scene.
(~*~)
Mac forced himself not to shake his head like a wet dog when he emerged from the elevator. The rain had started again halfway through processing, and he was soaked to the skin with an armful of evidence.
Seeing the predicament, Adam was immediately at his boss' side, taking the evidence from the older man.
"You're wet," Adam mumbled unnecessarily. Mac resisted giving Adam a pointed glare. The young man was only trying to help.
"I'm gonna go dry off," He replied instead. "Process those photos and I'll meet back with you once I'm changed." Adam nodded his acquiescence as Mac stalked off in search of warm, dry clothes.
(~*~)
"What do you have for me?"
Adam jumped when he heard a voice behind him. Spinning quickly, he calmed a little at seeing a dry and happy Mac.
"Just got those pictures back," Adam smiled. "I was waiting for you." Mac smiled in return before picking up the envelope he surmised held the pictures and spreading them out over the table. He searched for a moment; quickly locating the picture he needed to send to Flack. Picking it up, he handed it to Adam.
"Can you get this to Flack? We need to find out what club this stamp is from." The picture wasn't taken from him, and Mac looked up to see a very pale Adam staring at the photo.
"Adam." Mac raised his voice a little, just enough to pull Adam out of his trance. Adam blinked up at Mac, fear and apology in his eyes.
"Adam, do you know this mark?" Mac's voice was softer now, coaxing an answer from the lab tech. Slowly Adam nodded. After a few seconds of just staring at Mac, Adam pulled himself together and rushed over to the computer.
"It's for a club downtown," He mumbled as he typed. "It's called 'Club Paradise.' The vic was found decked out in PVC, right?" Mac didn't answer. He'd come to recognise when Adam was just thinking aloud. "That makes sense. This club is…" Adam looked up, the fear back in his eyes. "It's, uh. It's a lifestyle club." Mac raised an eyebrow; clueless.
"Lifestyle club?" Adam took a deep breath before answering.
"Alternative lifestyles. BDSM. Fetishes. It's mostly couples, but quite a few singles are regulars." Mac was looking at Adam in shock, and Adam was diligently avoiding his boss' gaze. Adam pulled up the contact information for Club Paradise and moved aside for Mac. The silence was stifling for Adam as Mac looked over the information on the club. He wrote down the necessary information and left the lab without looking back. Adam heaved a sigh of relief that Mac hadn't asked him how he knew about Club Paradise.
(~*~)
Mac waited patiently as the bartender looked at their db's picture. After a moment he shook his head.
"Sorry, I don't recognise him. I can get the girls who were waitressing last night to look if you want." Mac smiled gratefully and nodded. The bartender left to find the girls and Mac took a moment to look around the room he was in. The walls were decorated with black leather, the bar was a dark mahogany with a chrome finish and there were a number of little hide-away spots; Mac surmised for private interaction. It didn't take long for Mac's mind to wander to the question he'd been avoiding. 'How does Adam know about this place?' His musings were cut short when the bartender came back with two women. They each looked at the picture, but both shook their heads regretfully.
"Thank you for your time," Mac was about to turn and leave when a thought struck him. He turned back and looked at the bartender. "Do you know a man by the name of Adam Ross?" Mac knew he shouldn't be asking, but curiosity got the better of him. The man seemed to think for a moment before smiling.
"Yeah, actually, I know Adam. He hasn't been here for over a year. Why, is he involved?" Mac responded to the negative before turning back and leaving the club, mind spinning with questions.