The Mp.3 Murders (Glee)

Okay, so, this was originally meant to be a Mai Hime fic and the sequel to Always and Forever, however something didn't seem to click. Then I started watching Glee and thought about doing a Glee x Mai Hime fic (which I am currently also writing). As I was doing a spider diagram of this fic, the outline of the A+F sequel popped into my head and with the Glee characters in mind, everything dropped into place. What I intend to do is slowly release this fic so you guys get used to how I portray the Glee characters and then release the cross fic. To read this, you don't need to read A+F as they are like CSI is to CSI:NY (Same universe; different characters; different State) but I would appreciate it if you do :)

Description: Follow Detective Santana Lopez as she uncovers the truth about the deaths of some of Rosenberg High's Glee members.

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Chapter 1

“I know Ma!” The blonde said into her phone as she shuffled around the contents of her locker with her free hand, “I’ll come as soon as I can, I just have to find my book.” She gave a frustrated groan both at her lack of book and the answer she got over the phone. “I can’t exactly help that Ma! Fine then!” She closed her phone with a snap and released curse word into the empty hall, satisfied with the way it reverberated off the walls. Realising that the book must not be in her locker, she shuts it with a slam before picking up her bag and deciding she must have left it in the choir room after Glee, before cheer practice.

Walking up to the room door, Lucy Achele peered into the room through the strip of glass and noticed two things: the first was that Brad Criss, a brown haired boy in the year below her, was still in the room, by the piano; the second was that she couldn’t see her book next to her usual seat. Maybe someone picked it up and placed it somewhere in the room?, with that thought in mind, she walked into the room. “Criss, have you seen a Spanish book around here?” Lucy asked the boy by the piano. He must not have heard her because he stayed with his back to her, facing the sheet music on the piano’s stand. “You and that damn Mp.3, Bradley!” She exclaimed before walking up to him and giving him a slight shove on the shoulder. Without warning, he veered of the bench and landed on the floor with a thump; an orange pill pot slipping from his fingers, scattering it’s contents everywhere. “Brad?” Panic seeping in her voice as she kneeled on the floor next to him, “Criss?”

Not even the scream that ripped itself from Lucy’s pretty mouth, as she rolled his lifeless body over, could awaken Bradley Criss from death.


Detective Santana Lopez absently taps the pencil in her hand against the notepad in her other one as she stares around the choir room, watching the CSI’s busy at work. Her partner, Noah Puckerman, is standing outside trying to console the weeping cheerleader in the hopes of questioning her now, whilst her memory is still fresh; but also to let her go home and grieve in peace. Lopez doesn’t do well with emotions, talking about them or witnessing them, so she remains in the room, looking on. Seeing the pathologist, Dr. Mike Chang, stand up from where he was leaning over the body and begin to take notes, she walked towards him, “What’s it looking like Doctor?”

He smirks and looks up from his own notepad; anywhere else, he would be Chang or Fortune Cookie. “From body temp. and lividity, I say the boys been dead for 3-5 hours. I’ll make a more accurate time frame after the autopsy.” He nodded to two cops, signalling them to bag the body, “From the pills and the song on replay,” He hands Santana a white iPod, “Looks like suicide. Again, I won’t call it till after the autopsy.”

Santana switched the music player on and hummed in agreement when she noticed the song playing, “Somewhere I Belong, Linkin Park. Oh! To be a teenager and riddled with angst again!”

Mike gave a small chuckle as he took the iPod back and bagged it, “No thanks. I’ve had my fair share of teen angst and do not wish to re-live high school.”

She nodded her head, yes. Despite her being one of the most popular girls in school, it was still hell on earth for her. She asked when the autopsy would be happening.

“I’ll give you the report tomorrow morning, with a nice cup of coffee,” He replied, “You, my friend, need a good nights sleep.”

“Whatever, Chang.” Was the gruff reply, followed by a small thank you as she walked past him towards where Puck and Lucy were standing.

“You ready?” He asked the young blonde as he saw Santana approaching. She gave a small nod.

“Hey, Lucy,” the girl turned her watery green eyes towards the Detective, “I know this is going to be hard, but the quicker this is over, the quicker we can all leave, ‘kay?”

Lucy gave a sniffle and nodded her head in understanding. Despite the insensitive nature of the statement, the uncharacteristic warmth within the brown eyes looking at her made the seventeen year old understand that Santana wanted this done quickly to not prolong the pain of those involved and not for selfish reasons.

“When was the last time you saw Bradley?”

“At Glee club, after school... That finished at 4:15.”

“Did he look sad at all... like he was saying goodbye?”

A frown came over the cheerleaders face as she thought back to that days club meeting. “No. He seemed normal.” She gave a watery chuckle, “as normal as the gayest kid in school could be.” From the slight wince after, what she said must have been a quote from the boy himself.

Puck’s eyebrows rose at the statement, “He was gay? Did he ever get bullied because of that?”

Her eyes focussed somewhere behind the two officer, off in thought, “Us Glee kids tried our best, but he still got pushed into lockers and slushied.”

“Slushies are still being used?” Santana got a nod and a shiver as a reply. It’s like being bitch slapped by an ice-berg. “Anywho, at what time did you find Bradley?”

At that question, Lucy wrapped her arms around herself and gave another sniffle, “I must have stopped talking to Coach Pierce at around... five? Then I-I went to my locker...” her breath hitched with a sob and her eyes refocused on Santana, “Do you think he killed himself?”

Santana jotted down between 5 and 5:15 in her notepad before answering, “From what we know so far, yes.” She tried to tell the her in as comforting a way as possible, however nothing could stop the sob from breaking out of the poor younger girl.
Puck wrapped an arm around the girls shoulder, “It’s okay, Lucy. You can go home now.” Santana nodded in confirmation and looked at Puck over the girls head. In New York City, death was a common call for the on duty officer, but a case involving children and teens never got easier.


After Lucy’s interview, Detective Lopez closed the scene, spoke to the headmaster briefly about what was going to happen the next day and exchanged notes with the other cops on site. Now Puck was driving them both back to the station so they could start writing their reports and leave for home.

“So...” Started Puck, “open, shut suicide?”

Santana looked out at the passing scenary as they drove towards the heart of the City. “It appears so.” Was her eventual reply, “we just have to wait for a reply from China Town.”

Puck chuckled at the nickname Santana had christened the pathology lab where Mike Chang and Tina Cohen-Chang worked. When he thought back to the case, he released a deep sigh.

“It never gets easier,” Santana said in reply to the sigh, “to be honest though, I don’t want it to.” She could see him nod out of the corner of her eye. Both of them feared the day they became blasé about any death.

“It’s not only that,” he spoke up after a while, “I can’t help but feel like I recognise the kid; like I’ve seen him before, in passing.”

Santana gave a hum in thought, “He reminded me a bit of Kurt, Berry’s BFF.”

Puck mulled it over in his head, “Maybe that’s what I’m thinking of.”

The rest of the trip was in silence as their thoughts drifted to other things, like food and a good beer.


It was a quarter past midnight before Satana finally made it back home. As she closed the door behind her, to the three bedroom apartment, she noticed that the only light on was the flickering glow from the TV in the sitting room. The canned laughter floating down the hall told Santana that it was Quinn in front of the telly and that the day must have been particularly bad; I love Lucy was Quinn’s go to for pain relief. She made a quick detour into the kitchen to grab two beers, before she walked into the sitting room, sat on the coach and handed the blonde one of the beers. Hazel eyes looked at her over the blonde’s knees which were hugged to her chest. “Thanks.”

“Long day?” She could have asked how Quinn’s day had been, or cut to the chase and asked her what was wrong, but that involved talking about feelings. Looking over at her long time friend in sweats, an old Columbia hoodie and her hair up in a messy bun, Santana couldn’t help but feel like the conversation was going to go that way anyway.

“You could say that.” Quinn replied, taking a long pull from the bottle. “I had just finished a case on a rogue computer hacker, only to be handed a serial killer immediately after.”

“Welcome to the life of a law enforcer, Q.” They clinked their bottles together before each taking a sip. Wondering why their third roommate was nowhere to be seen, “Where’s Short Slice?”

Quinn raised an eyebrow in confusion, “I’ve never heard that one before.”

“It’s new. The other day, I was thinking about how she reminds me of your mother’s brownies; good in moderation, but too much crammed down your throat makes you sick. Lord knows that girl is too much.” Quinn gives Santana a playful slap on the arm, but couldn’t stop the chuckle that left her mouth. “Where is she anyway?”

Quinn’s face fell as quickly as the short burst of laughter appeared, “Out with Finn.”

“Oh.”

Santana moved closer to the FBI agent until their shoulders touched, offering physical support as a substitute for her lack of emotional support skills. When the blonde rested her head on Santana’s shoulder, she dropped a kiss into her hair, but didn’t say anything. They’d already had a brief conversation about this topic; however she knew that Quinn had more to talk about. When she was ready, Santana would be there to listen. Until then though, she was keeping her mouth shut.

Rachel, Quinn and Santana were an unlikely trio. The last two had been frenemies from kindergarten to high school graduation; being two HBIC’s in small town Lima, Ohio meant they butted heads quite often. As soon as they moved to New York City, however, and both started to attend Columbia, they had become really close. This new found closeness had solidified when they both decided to drop out and join the police. After a particularly intense case which had involved the FBI, Quinn had met Finn, an agent in training who had convinced her to join. Santana was enjoying being on the beat too much to switch ship, so she had stayed within the force, joking about how if they ever got to work cases again, it would like high school all over again. What they had found, once Quinn had made it into the Bureau and Santana had gained her Detective shield, is that on cases requiring the FBI, they worked together really well. The lack of the usual animosity between the Fed and the Cop making cases a breeze.

When Quinn was still in Columbia studying Criminal Law, she had befriended a Drama and Arts student who happened to also take the same criminology lecture and always sat next to her. At first, the blonde didn’t know how to react to the small ball of energy that is Rachel Berry, but soon they were meeting outside of lectures to study and then just to talk.
Santana and Rachel’s friendship is based on the fact that they both know Quinn and their shared, quick wit. The taller brunette would never admit this, but despite Berry’s bubbly nature completely contrasting with her own, darker moods, she had a small, (very small) soft spot for the girl.

The three had been living together for about four years and everything was going great until Quinn introduced Rachel to Finn. Santana had known for a while that Quinn had feelings for Finn, but didn’t want to voice them because they had become partners. She had dealt with that for quite a few years and no hiccups had occurred between the two Feds or Quinn and Rachel... until Finn mentioned that short brunette at the house party, asking if she was single. Now that the two of them were seeing each other on a regular basis, Santana could see the conflicting emotions in Quinn; should she be glad her best friend is seeing a nice guy? or should she be upset that her crush is seeing her best friend?

“Out of all the girls he had to pick.” Quinn mumbled into Santana’s shoulder. Looks like the later today.

“Must suck that it’s one of your best friends.” Of course it does you goober! Santana inwardly chastised herself.

“I know you can’t help who you fall for, but why did I have to fall for her?” The blonde cuddled into Santana more, hugging the brunette’s arm.

“I don’t kno- wait! Her?” Despite being the best Detective New York had seen in a while, Santana was definitely not expecting that.

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A/N: So... What did you think?