Part III

Grissom’s SUV

They were on their way back to the lab when Grissom did a very Grissom-like thing and asked. “Are you in love with my niece?”

Fortunately Declan had nothing in his hands or mouth as it would have gone flying. “I...uh...Mr. Grissom...”

“It’s a simple question, yes or no will do.”

Declan hesitated then, in all seriousness, replied. “Yes.”

“Ok, then why is she on a date with Warrick Brown?”

“Because I’m an idiot.” Declan grinned suddenly, a wave of mischief overtaking him. “Are you in love with Sara Sidle?”

To Grissom’s credit, his reaction was not as obvious as Declan’s but he did react; falling noticeably silent.

Twisting the knife, Declan pressed. “It’s a simple question, yes or no will do.”

The silence seemed to stretch out then. “Yes.”

“Why aren’t you with her?”

“Because I’m an idiot.”

“Welcome to the club.”

Grissom nodded and looked over. “Feel like a cup of coffee?”

“Yes.” Declan replied with enthusiasm. “My treat.”

-----------

“And the reason you chose this place becomes clear.” Grissom noted dryly as his eyes landed on his niece and employee sitting at a corner table, leaning toward each other out of deference to the music that was playing in the background. Absently, a part of the CSI’s mind supplied the name of the group and title of the song, The Dixie Chicks’s “Cowboy Take Me Away”, though for the life of him, he couldn’t remember where he’d come into that information.

Declan looked over and groaned. “She’s gonna kill me!” His eyes searched furtively for a table where they wouldn’t be spotted. “Quick! Over here.”

Slipping through the crowded tables, he barely avoided several near collisions before reaching the relatively hidden table.

Grissom followed at a more sedate pace, highly amused at the younger man’s antics. He was beginning to see why Miranda thought so much about Declan Dunn. Even the most inane of circumstances took on a whole new life around him.

When he sat across from Declan, the anthropologist looked relieved. “I don’t think they saw us.” He commented, gesturing for the waitress.

The other man ignored the question. “Very Freudian of you.”

“What?”

“Unconsciously choosing to come here, the very lounge where Miranda is on a date with another man.” Faint amusement lurked in Grissom’s eyes.

Declan flushed in embarrassment. “I honestly forgot.” At Grissom’s placating nod, his flush deepened. “I did!”

“I believe you.” The elder of the two replied. “The question is, will Miranda?” He inclined his head to the woman now standing behind Declan’s chair. “Evening, Miranda.”

“Very funny Grissom, like I’m going to turn around and find...MIRANDA!” Seeing her there sent him scrambling to his feet. “Hi!”

The slim woman folded her arms across her midsection and frowned at him. “Declan, what are you doing here?”

“Uh, your uncle,” Declan turned to discover Grissom was nowhere in sight. “Your uncle and I just finished talking to Sean Cavanaugh so we decided to have a cup of coffee...” ‘To commiserate about mutual idiocy’ he added mentally.

“And came here?” She raised one skeptical eyebrow. “To the very place you knew I’d be having coffee with Warrick?”

“I forgot!” He defended himself earnestly, watching to see if she believed him.

She didn’t.

“You forgot?” Miranda’s entire face became the epitome of skeptical. “You forgot?” She shook her head. “Declan...”

“I really did!” He insisted then sighed heavily. “Maybe it was a Freudian thing or something, y’know? My subconscious mind...” Declan bit off his sentence and dropped his head, pushing a hand through his hair. “I really didn’t think of it when I offered to pay.” He lifted his gaze, fully aware of the prying eyes of their spectators. “Can we, uh, go somewhere a little more private?”

Looking around, Miranda realized how many people were watching them and her cheeks tinged pink. “Outside. Now.”

“Yes ma’am.” He agreed, escorting her from the lounge, one hand resting against her back.

------

Finding an alcove next to the lounge, Declan sat on the soft couch and tugged her down next to him. “We need to talk.”

“You noticed.” Miranda countered dryly. “I’m impressed.”

He winced. “I deserved that.”

She looked guilty and dropped her gaze. “I’m sorry, Declan, it’s just...”

“I think I love you.” He blurted the words out before she could go any further and instantly wondered if maybe he’d just lost his mind. He didn’t just...oh God. He did.

He hadn’t said...Miranda’s entire body went instantly numb and a dull roar filled her ears. Declan hadn’t...Had he?

She couldn’t look, she just couldn’t. If she looked up and he was grinning like it was some big joke. She couldn’t look.

She couldn’t stop herself.

Oh, so minutely, she peered out through lowered lashes and found him watching her anxiously, big eyes full of pleading. A pleading she knew well. The kind that involved fervent prayers to God and complete terror of rejection.

The kind she faced every time she contemplated telling him how she felt about him.

Turning her gaze to stare vacantly across the room, Miranda tentatively reached out and rested a hand on his, curling her slender fingers around his larger ones. Holding on tight, she shifted position and rested her head on his shoulder. “Me too.”

----

“So you’re telling me, you have absolutely no idea how Sean survived?” Katherine MacMillian surveyed the information Declan had laid out for her on the conference table in the CSI lab. “None?”

“None.” The anthropologist confirmed, undeniably pleased by this fact. “I’ve gone over everything he told me, everything he told the police, the evidence that my...” A different sort of excitement touched his eyes but he didn’t say anything to explain it. “That we accumulated over the course of the investigation and there’s nothing to explain how someone of Sean’s size and weight could have survived a fall from that great a height. Your friend should be dead.”

The blonde shook her head in amazement. “His mother isn’t going to believe this.” She paused then laughed. “Actually, she probably would.” At his questioning look, she smiled. “Liza can be...an unusual woman.”

“Sounds like a lady I’d like.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised...hello?”

Declan turned at the same time Kit spoke and he smiled. “Miranda! C’mere, let me introduce you. Miranda Figelstein this is Katherine MacMillian, she’s a...” He frowned when he realized he had no idea exactly what Katherine’s connection to Sean really was. Grissom apparently knew but hadn’t bothered to ask.

“Friend of Sean Cavanaugh’s.” The Canadian woman interjected, holding out a hand. “Pleasure to meet you. I assume you helped Declan with all this?” She nodded at the ‘evidence’.

“Yes.” Miranda replied simply.

“Thank you, then.” Katherine’s voice was brisk but honest. “Very much.” She glanced at her watch then sighed. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go speak with Mr. Grissom.” Slipping by them, she left the couple in peace.

“Hi.” Declan smiled at the slender woman, taking her hand hesitantly. “Sleep well?”

“Yes.” Miranda’s voice lowered softly to a level barely above a whisper. “She’s nice.”

“Who? Ms. MacMillian? Yeah, I guess so.” He nodded. “Can’t really figure her out though, what she’s doing here I mean. She’s connected to the Cavanaugh kid but I have *no* idea how. Friend of his mother near as I can figure.”

Looking down at her, Declan touched her cheek. “Did you talk to your uncle?”

“Uh huh,” Her head moved slightly in affirmation. “They took the suspects into custody late last night. The District Attorney isn’t sure yet whether or not the Canadians are going to extradite so things are up in the air as of right now. He doesn’t anticipate needing us for any sort of testimony. But, if extradition does go through, the Canadians will arrange any transport we need.”

He grinned. “That wasn’t what I was asking about...Well, I guess we needed to know but that wasn’t what I meant.”

“What then?” She questioned with a curious look.

“About last night?” Declan prompted. “Did he mention last night?”

A light blush touched her cheeks and she looked down. “He mentioned it.”

“And what did he *say* when he mentioned it?”

“That you were both idiots but it seemed you were beginning to come around which means there’s hope for him too.” Miranda’s brows drew together in confusion. “Declan, what does that mean?”

Laughing, he rested his forehead against hers briefly. “It means that you may be getting an aunt...”

----

Declan’s Office
NOU

“Welcome back, Mr. Dunn.”

The dry tone that greeted Declan brought a muffled groan from the anthropologist as he closed his eyes. “Dr. Gale.” Taking a deep breath, he turned to face the head of his department. “Have a good weekend sir?”

“A fine weekend.” The older man agreed. “I hear you had a fairly productive one yourself.” He glanced at the clock. “You’d best hurry, Declan. You’ll be late for your first class.” Moving past the younger man, he patted his shoulder. “Well done.”

“Sir?” Thoroughly confused, Declan followed Dr. Gale to the door, not quite sure what exactly was going on. This was bizarre. “I’m sorry about yesterday, sir. I’d fully intended to be back for afternoon classes on Monday but...”

“I’m well aware of the situation, Declan.” Turning, the department head smiled broadly. “Mrs. Cavanaugh was quite effusive in her praise of you.”

“Mrs. Cavanaugh?”

“Oh yes.” Dr. Gale nodded. “A very personable woman. Quite impressive of you Declan.” With that, he clapped him on the shoulder again. “Well done.”

Watching his superior walk down the hall, Declan frowned deeply. “What’d I do?”

—

Peggy and Miranda were waiting for him in his office when he finished his first class. Peggy was holding a newspaper and pointing out something to a surprised Miranda. “Hi!” She smiled widely. “You had quite the trip huh?!”

“Yeah, it was....” Declan caught sight of his own face on the paper and took it from her. “What the hell? Anthropologist Investigates Assault On PM’s Son?” Dropping his books on a chair, he quickly scanned the article. “Local NOU anthropology professor Declan Dunn had quite the eventful weekend when he found himself aiding Las Vegas Criminologists in the investigation an attempt on the son of Canadian Prime Minister Eliza Cavanaugh.” He lifted shocked eyes to Miranda. “Did you know about this?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “Didn’t you?”

“NO!” He shot back then dropped his eyes to the paper. “In Las Vegas to celebrate his 21st birthday, Sean Cavanaugh and friends were assaulted. Though his friends lost their lives, Mr. Cavanaugh miraculously survived. It is here Professor Dunn and an associate enter the picture. Aiding CSI investigators, they provided crucial information that lead to the arrest of the perpetrators. When contacted by our paper, the Prime Minister’s office praised Professor Dunn’s intelligence and the great contribution he made. According to them, Mrs. Cavanaugh will be making a private donation to the University’s anthropology department in thanks, saying it is the least she can do.”

Numbly handing the paper back to Peggy, Declan moved to sit down. “You mean that *kid* was - is - the son of the Prime Minister of Canada? Canada as in the *country*?”

“Yes.” Miranda smiled faintly. “How did you not know this?”

“I dunno, I guess the name never clicked! I mean there’s probably *tons* of Cavanaughs up there. And I didn’t even know the PM had kids!” He protested, leaning his head back against his chair. “Holy cow...”

“How did he miss that?” Peggy questioned, laughing. “Weren’t there people from her office there? RCMP?”

“Sure, there were guards but...Katherine!” He snapped his fingers. “She must work for...”

“The Prime Minister.” Miranda supplied helpfully.

“Of Canada.” Peggy input in the same everso helpful tone.

“Thanks you two.” Declan peered at them over his glasses. “You’re a ton of help.”

“We try.” The elder of the two grinned impishly. “But seriously Declan, you *really* had no idea who he was?”

“None!” The anthropologist insisted.

“I don’t think it’d be a good idea to let that get out.” Peggy decided, smothering a laugh. “How would it look if an anthropology professor missed something like that?”

“You’re right.” Miranda agreed.

“So, how’s your uncle?” The psychiatrist asked suddenly of her friend.

“He’s doing well.” The younger woman smiled. “He says thanks for that article you sent, it was really helpful.”

“Wait a minute,” Declan sat up and looked accusingly at Peggy. “You knew she had an uncle in Las Vegas?”

“Mmmhmm, Gil. He’s a very fascinating man. Did you meet him?”

“Yes, I met him.” He countered. “But how did you know she had an uncle?”

Peggy shrugged lightly, brushing out a wrinkle in her suit jacket. “We met at a conference a couple years ago. When I met Miranda, we eventually put the connections together and found out she was Gil’s niece.”

Declan shook his head then let it fall lightly with a dull thud onto the desk. “I don’t believe this...Is there anything else I’ve been missing?”

“Tons.” Miranda answered. “But we don’t want to overwhelm you.”

“She’s right, it could be very traumatizing for you.” Peggy looked at the other woman. “Feel like getting a cup of coffee? You can fill me in on everything that happened.” The way she said everything implied to Declan that she already knew more than just about Grissom and the Cavanaugh family.

Lifting his head, he saw the amused look that passed between the women and he groaned, letting his head drop again. “I am so dead.”

Together, the two women looked at him then at each other.

They shared an amused smile.

“Coffee?” Miranda prompted.

“Right!” Peggy grinned. “Coffee. We can torture him later.”

“We can.” Picking up her coat, the younger woman let her fingers trail across the back of Declan’s head. “See you later, Declan.”

“Yeah, bye Declan!”

When the women had left, he peered out at Mole, who was observing the whole situation from his perch on the couch.

“Dude...we are *so* in trouble.”

The dog barked his agreement as Declan’s head returned to the desk.

“So much trouble...”

Finis

 

Not mine. Not even close.

 

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