Destiny Singing
Rating: PG
Fandom: CSI/Angel crossover
Pairing: Sara/Warrick
Feedback: Makes my day.
Disclaimer: If it was in the show, it's not mine.
Archive: At my site Checkmate , Fanfiction.net; anywhere else, please ask.
Spoilers: Set early season four Angel, season three CSI, but the only spoiler is for The House Always Wins (Angel ep 3)
Summary: Lorne reads Sara's aura
Notes: For the LiveJournal CS Reports "Virtual Rewind" challenge. This was once upon a time for the Las Vegas challenge but was rewritten for the crossover one.
There were, Lorne decided, certain advantages to living in Vegas. Not only could a red-horned, green-skinned anagogic demon be taken for a novelty singing act and get a job, he could also have an audition for the Tropicana of all places. Home to the Rat Pack, a step up in the world, and he couldn't wait.
He was walking through the lobby heading for the lounge and what was hopefully going to be his last gig in this rinky-dink place when the inevitable happened. Someone was singing softly to herself, her destiny blindsiding him like a two-by-four to the side of the head, and turning sharply in her direction, he saw a serious-faced brunette, wearing a navy windbreaker bearing the words "LVPD CSI".
Groaning inwardly, knowing the reaction he was sure to get, but also knowing what he had to do, he went over to the woman, tapping her on the shoulder. Her eyes widened when she saw him, a reaction he was used to, but she recovered quickly, showing wary interest when he asked if he could talk to her.
"I’m not so sure you're going to believe this," he said. "You see, I kind of have this gift, where I can sort of…read people's auras…" He paused for the usual reaction, blinked when her expression didn't change. "You're taking this well."
She waved her hand. "Child of hippies," she explained dryly. "My brother swears he can remember being at Woodstock." Lorne just stared at her, pretty surprised, and her face took on a look of amused scepticism. "Well?"
He hesitated, then threw caution to the wind. "It's like this," he said. "You've got this whole Mary McGregor, Torn Between Two Lovers thing going on…the one you're crazy about and the one who's crazy about you…how'm I doing so far?"
All colour draining from her face was a pretty good clue, as was the strangled, "How did you-" that passed her lips.
"I know," he said simply. "But sweetness, don't be getting yourself all tied up in knots over them. Neither one of them is the one for you."
She looked as if she didn't know whether to laugh or slap him, and just in case, he took a step back. "Really?" she asked, amusement vanished, scepticism personified.
Lorne just nodded. "Put your money on the dark horse, sugar plum…that's the lucky one."
"Uh-huh." She still didn't look as if she believed him, but further comment was stopped when a man's voice called her name. She turned, calling "Coming Warrick..." before glancing back at Lorne. "I'll see you around."
It was a dismissal, but Lorne was so surprised to see her destiny calling to her, literally walking out of the lobby of the casino with her, that he couldn't respond.
When he recovered his powers of thought, he considered running after them, but thought better of it. He had an audition to prepare for, and these things always work out.
After all, you can't fight destiny.