fandomhigh | Forensic Science 2/7, 5th period

Abby was on the phone when the students entered the danger shop; arguing with someone about a Caf-Pow! delivery. "You're already one day late. I can't be held responsible for my actions if you don't get it here today. No, that's not a threat against you. I'm a high school teacher, it's not like I'm going to come after you or anything. It's just that I've accidentally killed the wrong person already because I didn't drink enough Caf-Pow!, I don't want that to happen agai-hello? Hello?"

Abby shook her head and slammed down the phone. "Stupid delivery men." Pointing to the stools in the lab, she stalked over to the whiteboard to start the lecture. "I'm not in the best of moods today so lets try getting through the lecture quickly so you can go do your crime scene work. Today we're talking about trace evidence. It's the itty bitty things that are found at crime scenes that you'll be responsible for collecting, cataloging and identifying. Trace evidence includes hairs, fibers, soils, botanical materials, residue from gunshot or explosives." Abby gave a handwavy lecture on using microscopes and lab equipment to test evidence. "Basically, you're going to be collecting everything and bringing it back to the lab. Most of it will be crap, but some will help you solve the crime and identify the killers."

Walking to the door of the lab, Abby walked through, motioning the students to stand with her around an outdoor pool. The water was drained from the majority of the pool, leaving a few dirty feet of water in the deep end and two bodies in the shallow end. "There was a party here last night, lots of drinking and dancing and two deaths. Some say the men just had too much drink, some say they committed suicide. It's your job to gather as much trace evidence as you can and use it to discover what happened."

Pointing to a stack of rubber waders, Abby stood back to let the students put them on and climb down into the pool. "This is Aziraphale and not-Wilson." Abby glared a little at Neil and shook her head. "Apparently when I've not had enough caffeine, people are a little fuzzy to me. In my defense, he looks very similar. Whatever. Neil deserves to have his murder avenged as well. Remember to get the trace evidence from the water in the pool and the bodies. Go for it."

[ooc: OCD up! Play!]

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"So either you put up a fight before expiring, or you had a very busy evening beforehand. Drugs or alcohol in the system? KNot in the back of your head from a drunken slip and fall?"

"No drugs at all, and the toxicology report says that I had less than one beer to drink," Aziraphale answered, almost sounding proud. "And no other real injuries either -- specifically, nothing to point to a crack on the head."

"Well. One beer sounds like you checked out a bit early. I suspect foul play. Maybe someone who has a thing against that sorta thing and has like an army who finds 'em or somehing. Hrm. Anything else, before you must get back to lounging?"

Holding up a baggie of trace evidence, Aziraphale nodded. "There's a bit of brown cloth that was attached to my ring, a grey button that was found behind my teeth, and a pair of glasses with a greasy fingerprint on one lens."

"I've been to parties like that. Woke up and had to make sure I had all my organs. Not that you've been to any parties like that, I hope. Not much fun. Coyote ugly, even."

"Er...no, I don't believe I have been to any parties like that."

Really, Aziraphale had to admit that even the more questionable clubs he and Wilson had checked out on the mainland weren't places he'd ever woken up from wondering what had happened. Or if he'd lost any organs.

"But, er...what does 'coyote ugly' mean?"

"Well, they can be fun, but it's the dangerous kind of fun, similar to where you get suckered in to a high stakes poker game with a spy, a Brazilian, someone in need of a tan, and such."

John's eyes grwe wide at tthe question. "oh, dear. Um." He cleared his throat. "It's a type of situation where the very attractive girl you went to bed with the night before has become some sort of hideous hose beast overnight. When you look at her wtihout the beer goggles, it's the type of thing where you'd rather gnaw your own arm off if she's sleeping on it rather than risk waking her up. LIke a coyote in a trap will gnaw off his paw to escape."

John feels a little dirty corrupting Phale. That's... that's just not right! He'd have to talk to Rosette about this.

"I...ah. I, er...I see."

Aziraphale looked as though he wasn't certain how a person could go to bed thinking their partner looked one way and wake up thinking they looked another, but then he'd never experienced the 'beer goggles' phenomenon either.

"Well...I don't think that's going to be a danger, since the only person I ever go to sleep with is James," he finally said, rather cheerfully. "And I like the way he looks in the morning."

Yeah, John probably didn't need that image in his head.

John chokes on something, perhaps a particle of airborne trace. "That's... good? You'd be amazed at who looks good after a beer or five. Or what you think is a good idea after downing half a bottle of whiskey. It's not exactly something I'd recommend."

If Phale could read thoughts? John would be thinking hard about that Brain Bleach. In fact, John just thought of the name of his cranberry vodka. EyeScrub would be the apple version.

"I don't believe I've ever slept with anyone when I was that terribly drunk. Not anyone I didn't already know, anyway."

Aziraphale decided not to get into the fact that he'd actually only ever slept with two people in the entire six thousand years of his existence. John looked ill enough as it was.

"Always stick to people you know. And who know you. And will deal with you in the morning when the weight of the spinny spinny world is on your head." John nods sagely, trying not to picture... things.

Well, Aziraphale had dealt with Wilson's hangovers on occasion, so he knew what John was talking about it that respect.

"Yes, I think that's a wise decision," he replied. "Do you have any particular young lady in your life at the moment?"

John's eyes lost a bit of the fire, and turned cold. "No. Not exactly. There's one, but she's... away. And I don't believe I can make progress with another , as she's been... promised to Someone else."

Aziraphale realized the mistake immediately, and looked sorrowful.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Mr Connor. It will probably sound like a useless platitude, but someone will come along someday who will make you glad you waited for them. I really do believe that."

"I'm sure it will happen. Inevitable. It happened for my mom, or will happen, so I'm sure that it will happen for me." John sighed a bit. "Stupid people leaving," he mumbled.

Nodding, Aziraphale had to agree with John's dislike of people leaving.

"Well, do tell me when you figure out who's to blame for all of this," he said, in a tone meant to cheer the young man up.

Forensic Science 2/7, 5th period

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