Love Looks Not With The Eyes. A Sid Hammerback short fiction

Author's Notes
This short story stems from an idea for a longer CSI:NY plot that I've been kicking around in my head for a week or so. My original plan had been to write this as a prologue to the main CSI:NY story but giving Sid a past has taken on a life of its own and it's now way too long to pass as a Prologue so I'm going to post it as a stand alone short story in several parts. This first part forms the opening scene.

Please bear in mind that I live in the UK so I'm having to research my geographic locations on the web. Hopefully any factual errors wont be too distracting.

Love Looks Not With The Eyes. A Sid Hammerback short fiction

The National Association of Medical Examiners Annual Conference, Savannah, Georgia. 2003.

Forensic pathology conferences had never had never held much appeal for Sid Hammerback. Being a medical examiner was more a vocation than a career and Sid loved his work. The peace and quiet of the morgue, the solitude afforded by the company of the dead, even the mystery of death itself all appealed to his peculiar sensibilities. Being trapped in a hotel with close to seventy other pathologists, talking shop constantly for three days was enough to put him off his food and it was only the first evening.

He glanced at his watch, 8.15pm, then scanned the room. The bar of the Hyatt Regency, Savannah was almost exclusively populated by his colleagues, all wearing the obligatory conference name badges and all waiting for their black tie dinner to begin. Sid avoided making eye contact with anyone and returned his attention to his drink. He was here to meet one person and as yet they hadn't arrived. Dr Cedric Dexter, the man Sid was waiting for, had been the Chief Medical Examiner for the city of Boston and had given Sid his first job. The two men had become good friends but since Cedric's retirement they had seen each other less frequently. It had therefore been a pleasant surprise when a handwritten note from his old mentor had arrived on Sid's desk last month. “I hope you'll be at N.A.M.E this year.” it read. “I want to introduce you to my niece. She'll be joining me for the last day.”

Dr Erling Dexter was the apple of her uncles eye but Sid knew her by reputation only. She had gained her doctorate in Forensic Archaeology from Oxford at the age of twenty-two and had been the youngest member of an international team who had spent much of the last three years excavating the war graves of Bosnia. Her youth and her dedication to her job had made her something of a celebrity in forensic circles but nevertheless she remained reclusive. Sid knew she taught Bioarchaeology at an American University but he had no idea which one and her only interaction with her peers seemed to take place through the pages of obscure forensic journals. Over time he had developed a mental image of a shy, retiring creature in plaid shirts, the complete opposite of her flamboyant uncle, who spent her spare time reading academic textbooks and painting watercolours. He had to wonder what on earth Cedric had said to coax this academic wallflower out of the classroom.

Sid glanced at his watch again. It was ten minutes before they were due to be seated for dinner and there was a growing buzz of anticipation in the bar. Sid smiled to himself and raised his glass to his lips. It seemed that his colleagues often judged the quality of their meals by how cheap they were, the annual free dinner at this event being the equivalent of haute cuisine.

“Hammerback, you old Lothario!”

Sid nearly choked on his drink. He had forgotten just how loud his ex boss could be when he was in a jocular mood and forensic conferences were the highlight of the old man's social calendar. He turned in the direction of that booming voice and immediately spotted the retired pathologist striding towards him across the room, a broad grin lighting his florid features, his short stature, rumpled suit and unruly hair standing in stark contrast to the statuesque and impeccably dressed young woman on his arm. Well, Sid thought wryly, Cedric was obviously intent on enjoying himself before the arrival of his bookish niece. He wondered which expensive Savannah escort agency had provided his friend with such an impressive companion and hoped that the old man had made a note of their phone number. Cedric, for his part, seemed to know exactly what was going through Sid's mind and tipped him a mischievous wink by way of a greeting.

“So what are you drinking old boy?” he demanded, slapping the bar with one meaty hand to attract the attention of a member of staff. Sid opened his mouth to reply but before he could do so his old friend was demanding an expensive bottle of red wine and regaling the flustered young bar tender who had stepped forward to serve him with stories of his student days, picking grapes in the vineyards of Bordeaux. Sid laughed, knowing that this particular tale took some time to tell, and turned his attention to the young woman who now stood at his side.

“I must apologise for my friend.” he said extending his hand towards her. “Formal introductions were never his strong point.”

“Oh, I know.” she replied, a strangely familiar smile curling the corners of her lips as she took his hand in her own. “Uncle Cedric does this to me all the time.”

Sid felt his mouth go dry. He had been prepared for dowdy and plain, he had even entertained the uncomfortable notion that Cedric and his niece could share a strong family resemblance but he hadn't even considered the possibility that she could be attractive. Aware that he was moments away from making a fool of himself he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of her slim fingers.

“It's a pleasure to meet you Dr Dexter.”

“For God's sake man, don't call her that!” Cedric interrupted, offering his friend a large glass of freshly poured wine. “People will think she's me.”

“I don't think you have to worry about that Uncle.” the young woman laughed, giving Sid's hand a playful squeeze before letting go. “But you're right, Dr Hammerback is welcome to call me Erling.”

“I will.” He replied, raising his glass to her. “As long as you promise to call me Sid.”

She smiled and a fetching blush of colour rose to her cheeks. “I promise.”

“Well then old boy, now you two have gotten acquainted, I want to know what I've been missing.” Cedric wedged his considerable bulk onto a bar stool and took a gulp of his wine. Half the contents of his glass disappeared down his throat. “I heard all about that severed foot on the Route 37 bus last week. Reminded me of that case at Porter Square Station...”

Sid let his old friend talk. He knew from experience that trying to interrupt would be pointless once Cedric was in full stride and not being expected to add anything to the conversation meant he could spend his time studying Erling Dexter more closely. She was tall, perhaps as tall as Sid himself, with long fine limbs that gave her a youthful, coltish figure. Her dress, made of dark green silk, reached to the floor but left her lightly tanned shoulders nude. The dress perfectly complimented the deep auburn of her long hair which was tied in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. Her eyes, which were of the darkest brown, sparkled with wicked humor, something which Sid guessed was a Dexter family trait. Once or twice during Cedric's tale of dismembered limbs on the Red Line she glanced in Sid's direction but she seemed far from embarrassed or perturbed by his obvious attention. She held his gaze every time, an impish smile shaping her mouth, her eyes appraising and inviting at the same time. Sid got the impression that she knew exactly what he was thinking and it was a prospect that he found quite thrilling.

On the far side of the bar two smartly dressed waiting staff appeared and announced to the waiting delegates that the dining room was now ready for them. Cedric grew even more animated and rubbed his hands together with obvious glee.

“I checked the seating plan when we arrived.” he explained, picking up his glass and extricating himself from his stool. “I'm next to Margaret Aston.” And without further explanation he strode off to join the growing crowd at the dining room door.

“Margaret Aston?” Erling asked.

“Professor Margaret Aston.” Sid explained. “She teaches anatomy at Harvard Medical School. Your uncle has been flirting with her for several years.” He decided not to mention the fact the the object of Cedric's affection was nearly sixty and built like a Sherman tank.

Erling watched her uncle go with an expression of such affection that Sid had to fight the urge to scoop her into his arms and kiss her on the spot.

“I assume he hasn't achieved his conquest yet then.” she said.

“He hasn't even made it to base camp. Margaret Aston is a...formidable woman.”

Erling laughed. “And what about you Sid?” she said. “Have you got any conquests lined up for this weekend?”

Sid met her gaze and found himself lost in the warmth of her brown eyes. Was it possible for charm and flirtatiousness to run in families? He stepped closer to her, close enough that he could smell the apple scented shampoo with which she had washed her hair and feel the warmth of her body through his dress shirt.

“At the moment I feel more like the conquered than the conqueror.” he whispered.

A blush of colour rose to her throat and she momentarily looked away. “I suppose I'm not quite what you were expecting.”

“I always enjoy being pleasantly surprised.” he smiled, lifting her hand to his lips to kiss her fingers again.

“Uncle Cedric told me you were an unrepentant flirt.” she giggled. “He's very fond of you. That's why I decided to arrive early. I couldn't resist the opportunity to have dinner with the infamous Dr Hammerback.”

“I'm very flattered.” Sid replied, taking her arm to lead her towards the dining room. “But it's unlikely we'll be sitting together.”

“I know. I hadn't considered that.” Erling sighed, the disappointment in her voice causing his heart to race with excitement. “Do you think anyone would notice if we just made a discreet exit?”

In that dress the Pope would notice Sid thought. “What do you have in mind?” he asked, wondering what on earth he should say if she suggested room service.

“A place where the catering hasn't been done en masse and we don't have to make small talk with strangers.” she replied, guiding him away from the dining room doors towards the lobby.

“And what about Cedric? Won't your uncle be worried about you?”

Erling arched her eyebrows and smiled wickedly. “I'm sure his attention will be focused elsewhere and besides, he knows I'm with you. He'll know that I'm safe.”

Sid watched her stride away towards the concierge's desk, her long dress shimmering in the light with every sway of her hips. At this moment in time that's a matter for debate, he thought and hurried to catch her up.

******
Part two coming up soon...

Wow! This is really good! Make sure you update soon I'm already hooked

Cool, I don't think I've read any Sid fic yet. More soon!

Thanks for the feedback so far. I havent written CSI fan fiction before so this is very much a case of throwing myself in at the deep end. Plus the idea for the story began as something I was playing with purely for my own private enjoyment so I wasnt sure whether it would be well received or if anyone would want to read it as it focuses on a character who isnt one of the main team.

I'll have to get the next part written as soon as I can.

Author's Note:
Here's part two then and I'm feeling a little guilty because, having just given Sid an evening to remember, I'm about to be mean to him in part three. :devil: I'll post that as soon as it's written.

Love Looks Not With The Eyes.

Part two.

He had dated women much younger than him before but Sid Hammerback had always been the one to make the first move. He had married at the age of twenty to the woman who had been his high school girlfriend but despite the fact that they had produced a daughter together, whom Sid adored, the marriage hadn't lasted and twelve years later Sid had found himself single again for the first time since he was a teenager. In the intervening years he had learned to appreciate his bachelor status and had embraced new experiences with enthusiasm but this was a first for him. Dr Erling Dexter, the niece of one of his oldest friends and a woman who was half his age was seducing him and he was thoroughly enjoying it. It wasn't that there was anything predatory, or even deliberate in her flirting. Perhaps it was merely that middle-aged men were always doomed to fall under the spell of youth and beauty. Maybe it was the way she made him feel young and attractive again. The occasional envious glances he had received from other men they had passed in the street and in the bars had certainly fuelled his desire to get to know her more intimately. Her body was pressed against him now, one arm encircling his waist, her head resting lightly on his shoulder as she slept. Her shoes lay discarded on the floor of the cab that was taking them back to the hotel, her bare feet, tucked beneath her, were hidden by the folds of her dress. The early morning air was chilly and Sid drew his jacket more tightly around her, the warm pulse of her breath on his neck making him feel drowsy. He allowed his eyelids to droop for a moment and, burying his face in the softness of her hair, his mind drifted back through the events of the evening.

The concierge at the Hyatt Regency had recommended a restaurant in Savannah's historic quarter and they had taken a short cab ride to what turned out to be a small, family run Italian kitchen set back from the river front on a narrow, cobbled street. The chef specialised in seafood and even though Erling confessed to having little knowledge of the cuisine she had thrown herself into the experience with a child-like excitement, allowing Sid to order a plate of oysters served with tabasco and a whole lobster for them to share. The waiter had produced a cool, crisp bottle of Frascati as an accompaniment to the meal and as they sipped their wine they had swapped stories of Cedric's exploits and their own university days. Erling had listened attentively, her eyes sparkling with amusement, her fingers occasionally caressing his hand as he talked. They had seemed to reach an unspoken agreement that they wouldn't talk about work. The violence and death that they had both dealt with in their careers felt like an inappropriate topic for such an intimate occasion even though on some level Sid longed to hear about her experiences, if only to understand just how she seemed to remain so unaffected by everything she had seen amongst the war graves of Europe.

The restaurant had been empty, the staff on duty discreetly clearing away the evening's debris by the time they left. With Erling at his side, her arm looped casually through his, Sid had strolled through the still busy side streets of Savannah. The peach trees that lined the pavements sweetened the night air with their scent and the noise of animated conversations ebbed and flowed as they passed open bar doors and late night pavement cafes. Eventually they had found themselves back at the river front, the seductive sound of a solo saxaphone drawing them to a dimly lit bar that stood alone at the water's edge. A small, canopied pier jutted out into the river and provided not only a stage for the musicians but a small dance floor, surrounded by an eccentric collection of weather beaten bar furniture and illuminated by strings of multi-coloured fairy lights. Erling seemed to fall in love with the place immediately and had found them a seat on a small sagging settee near the stage. They had ordered margeuritas and settled down in silence to listen to the band. As they sat sipping their drinks a gentle breeze had sprung up, the air cooled by the flow of the river beneath them and Erling had pressed herself against him for warmth. The curve of her hips and shoulders seemed to mold themselves to him perfectly and he wrapped an arm around her waist, relishing the spicy scent of her skin and the smoothness of her silk dress beneath his fingers. Her lips, cold from the ice in her drink, had grazed his jaw in a fleeting kiss, his look of surprise bringing a mischievous sparkle to her eyes. Entwining her fingers through his, she had stood, and without a word, led him onto the dance floor.

They had found themselves a space amongst the dozen or so other couples, all of whom were casually dressed in comparison to their evening attire and Sid had taken the lead in a slow dance. Erling had followed his steps with intense concentration at first, she obviously wasn't used to formal dancing, but gradually he felt her body relax, until he had felt able to tease her a little, allowing his hand to slide down the curve of her spine to the gentle swell of her rump. She had giggled and returned his hand to the small of her back with a look of mock indignation on her face and a whispered threat to tread on his toes if he attempted such a move again. Sid had continued to guide her around the small dance floor, losing himself in the rythym of the music and the sway of her body in his arms. After a while she had unfastened her hair, allowing her auburn curls to fall loosely down her back and through his fingers. The fresh scent of apples had filled his nostrils once again and he had found his grip on her tightening, every contact with her sending a thrill of energy through his body. Her arms had circled his neck and their steps slowed until they were almost standing still, embracing rather than dancing. Sid had longed to kiss her then, to take her back to the hotel, to privacy, warmth, silence but he found himself reluctant to take that step. There would be no going back from that and he was enjoying the novelty of a woman who set her own pace. Erling had seemed to sense his indecision and looked at him inquisitively, an alluring smile gradually illuminating her features. Taking his arm once more she had led him back towards the street.

“What are you thinking about?” the sound of her voice interrupted his thoughts.

Erling had awoken from her brief snooze and, in the semi-darkness of the back seat of the cab her eyes searched his face. Sid sighed and gave her a flirtacious squeeze which made her laugh.

“I was just thinking that we should really do this again tomorrow night.” he replied.

A brief look of sadness crossed her face but it was gone in a moment and before Sid could say anything her familiar smile returned. Her hand encircled his wrist and she looked at his watch.

“Tomorrow night is a long way away.” she said, tilting her head to kiss his lips. “And we haven't finished with this one yet.”

More soon!