Triskele

Crossing Jordan is the property of Tailwind Productions in association with NBC Studios and Tim Kring: it is not mine, nor do I claim that it is. I'm not profiting from this, nor do I plan to at any time. Bevan Bayne and other characters are the property of me, created April 17, 2002. All aspects, etc. were created by me, and in no likeness of any person, real or fictional.

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The Triskele is used to symbolize the cycles of life with in the three fold, or three spheres of influence in the material world.

The three spheres (Land, Sea and Sky) represents the three aspects of the material world that are contained in every object. Each aspect ever flowing outward and always returning to the point from which it started.

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During the morning briefing, Woody knocked on the door to the conference room, standing in the doorway looking somewhat sheepish.

"Sorry to interrupt your briefing, but on the way in I ran into your new pathologist," he said.
"Well, where is the notorious Dr. Bayne we've been hearing so much about?" Nigel asked.

"Sister called," he said.

"Well, tell him to hurry," Jordan said.

"Um, Jordan," Woody began.

"We don't have all day to wait for some stuffy new pathologist to talk to his sister," she continued.

The person that walked into the room and looked around looked as if they had gotten off the elevator on the wrong floor. The woman was around five seven, her platinum hair pulled back, and deep blue eyes scanned the room. She was a study in elegance with high cheekbones, a strong, angular jawline, a slightly narrow nose, and full, wine-colored lips set against creamy skin. Arching blonde eyebrows framed cat-like blue eyes lined and shadowed in grays created a face that was neither young, nor old. Completing the picture was a tailored charcoal gray suit hugging a figure that was almost sinful.

"Who're you?" Jordan asked, wondering if she was one of the typical trophy wives that sometimes found their way to the morgue.

"The stuffy pathologist," she said with a small, unamused smile. Her voice was low and pleasant, the British accent unmistakable.

"Dr. Bayne, it's good to see you again," Garret said, getting up.

She walked gracefully over and shook his hand, revealing perfectly manicured nails, and said politely with no smile, "For me as well."

"Please, sit down," he said, motioning to the chair next to Jordan.

"Detective Hoyt, thank you for showing me the way," Dr. Bayne said cordially to Woody.

"No problem," he said, leaving the room. "See you in a minute, Jordan."

Jordan smiled and then watched Dr. Bayne sit down, her posture straight and perfect, while setting her briefcase at her heel. This woman reminded her more of a lawyer than a forensic anything. Probably a spoiled rich kid, bored with the social life. Polite with no real personality.

"Dr. Bayne, this is Doctor Jordan Cavanaugh, Dr. Nigel Townsend, Dr. Trey Sanders, Dr. Mahesh "Bug" Vijayaraghavensatyanaryanamurthy, and Miss Lily Lebowski. Now then," Garret said, sitting back down, "Dr. Bayne, I'm going to let you have the first autopsy of the morning. Here's the case file."
He passed her a file and they all watched her open it and raise her eyebrows. She gave off an air of professionalism with an undertone of anal retentiveness.
"Decomp," she muttered tonelessly, "And in a duffle bag? Lovely. Been a while since I had one of these." Her eyes flickered toward Garret before returning to the file.

"I'm sure you can handle it," Garret said. "Nigel and Bug will show you to the autopsy suite."

"We sure will," Nigel said smiling as he stood.

Dr. Bayne fixed her eyes at him, perfectly shaped eyebrow raised, as she got to her feet. When they walked out of the room and earshot Jordan turned to Garret with a frown.
"Why do we need a forensic pathologist?" she questioned.

"When the state found out she was available, they picked her up," he answered.

"And what happened to the budget?" she asked.

"Apparently we're getting a good deal," Garret said, getting up.

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"So do you have a first name or do you only go by Doctor Bayne?" Nigel asked while taking an admiring look at her legs as they walked.

"Bevan," she said turning her head slightly to the side. "But yes, Doctor, I do go by Doctor Bayne the majority of the time."

"Bevan? That's a male name," Nigel said, studying her profile.

"It is," she said. "It's also a feminine name. Are you familiar with Gaelic names?"

"Enough to know it's not a common one," Nigel said.

"Unlike Nigel," she smiled slightly. "Typical British boy. I bet you were a soldier too."
Nigel stopped and she turned to face him.

"How did you know that?" he asked.

She gave him a cool smile and took a step towards him, "Only a soldier has enough courage to jump into hitting on someone so fast."

Bug smiled and followed her as she started walking again. "So where are you from originally?"

"Here," she answered. "I spent my childhood in boarding schools in England if you're really asking about the accent. You're an entomologist I understand?"

"Yes," he said.

"Fascinating," she smiled. "I once had a case where the only way to tell there had been foul play was some Muscid fly larva on a hiking victim. "

Bug looked at her for a moment, "Muscid flies?"

"Yes," she said. "The body was in a state park, on a remote trail. We knew the person hadn't died there because of the presence of the larvae. It proved that she had been murdered and placed there."

"You’re into insects?" Bug asked with a small smile.
"Yes and no," she began. "I find forensic entomology fascinating and all, but it's not my cup of tea."

"And what is your cup of tea?" Nigel asked, catching back up to them.

She looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Are you always so charming Dr. Townsend?"

"Call me Nige, Bev," he said.

"If you must call me something casual, I would prefer Bevan, thank you," she corrected, giving him a stern look.

He raised his eyebrows at Bug as they walked through the doors of the autopsy suite and Bevan set her briefcase down and began unbuttoning her jacket. She took notice of the pre-laid out instrument trays and sterile autopsy togs.

"So where was he found?" she asked, pulling her jacket off and folding it. She was wearing a cream colored blouse and she began rolling up the cuffs, looking over at them.

"On a dry river bank," Nigel said, watching her pull on the surgical apron.

"Did the bag make any noise when it was moved?" she asked, getting two pairs of gloves and snapping them on.

"It sloshed a little," Bug said.

"Wonderful," she said, dryly, "Either of you ever done a liquefied decomp before?"

"Not in a while," Bug said.

Her brows furrowed as she felt of the bag. "Great. I've never done one like this."

"You've never done a decomp?" Nigel asked incredulously, watching her set up the voice recorder.

"Decomps I've done," she answered, getting a face shield. "They've usually been exposed though. I did one in a barrel once but it had mummified so it really wasn't a decomp. The bag's been processed, right?"

"Yeah, no prints," Nigel said.

"Any radiographs?" she asked, looking over the file again. "Oh, here we are."

She put them up on a light board and studied them carefully, her brows furrowing as she looked at them. She had already noticed the bag was made out of what looked like vinyl or some similar, very waterproof material. This was going to be a nasty one.

"Ready?" she asked, putting on the face shield.

They simply nodded, watching her take hold of the zipper pull.


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The idea for this first case came from the CSI episode Bully for You.