A slow day is always a blessing and a curse in the crimelab. It doesn't happen often, so it is also an anomaly occurring only once per blue moon.
For Mac, it is a chance to catch up on long-overdue paperwork. He would write reports all day if Stella did not accost him for lunch or a short break. Mac is afraid of leaving time to think about Claire and though he doesn't say it, Stella knows. Stella always knows how Mac is feeling, strange though it may seem. And Mac can sometimes divine what Stella feels, though it does not happen often – he knows better than to try to understand her or any woman.
Stella spends the time compulsively straightening her desk – removing used Styrofoam carafes smelling of stale coffee, crumpled napkins and scrap paper, empty pens. She dusts her computer console and files every spare paper, trying to while away the hours until lunch or a case interrupts, whichever comes first. Sometimes, she will go to Mac's desk and grab a pile of reports that need written, just for something to do. Idleness is never acceptable.
Aiden knows that it's weird and she accepts that about herself. What she does on break is pull out old descriptions of vics or perps and draw their faces with her computer. Black hair on this one – okay. It's a guy, so make it shorter. Blue eyes, so it stands to reason and logic that he's Caucasian. Maybe he looks a little like Don Flack… but Aiden does not want to think about Don Flack. Especially since he had walked her home last night and taken her hand and said they should go out – alone – again sometime. Aiden stopped moving her mouse around quickly deleted her work thus far. The guy looked too much like Flack.
Since Danny would be taking his test to get his second class, he studied. The reg book, his science texts, old case files… anything to do with crime scene investigation. He needed to know everything – nothing could remain unstudied. Mac would stop in sometimes to check his progress or Aiden would wordlessly set a fresh cup of coffee next to his hand whenever she thought he might need it, but he was left to himself most of the time.
A slow day in the morgue was even more rare than a slow day in the lab, but it did occasionally happen. When once such happenstance occurs, Sheldon would pull out a book from his somewhat limited collection hidden in a supply cabinet. Today he reads "Emily of New Moon" by L.M. Montgomery, though he knows it was intended for young girls and early 20th century teenyboppers. He is a closet L.M. Montgomery fan but he will never tell. He owns all of the books written by that particular author – even anthologies of short stories. They give him a peace of mind and he can glimpse a place where people aren't murdered and explosions just don't happen.
All Don can think about is how Aiden's eyes sparkled last night. He types reports and shoots the breeze with his partner, but he is constantly distracted by a distinct Brooklyn accent saying "yeah, I'd like that" while a hand squeezes his and those eyes just blind him. He floats all day and doesn't pay attention to Maka when she teases him about "that girl last night".
Maka notices that Flack is detached and too happy – that goofy grin on his face says it all. She needles him quietly about Burn, who she knows he walked home from Sullivan's last night and when his cheeks turn bright red, she knows she's right. She knows that look too well – the look that says that promises have been made and that there will be secrets now. But she can deal with that. She also knows that fraternization is frowned on, but she's not paying attention. It's not her business, after all.
Jane does not notice anyone because she spends the day on her own. A slow day for her is never interesting, never has the highlight of a conversation with Mac Taylor. There is no reason for him to approach her or she to approach him, so there is little conversation aside from a short "hello" in the hall when they see each other. She does not know that he noticed her new blouse and thought that color was particularly good on her or that he is thinking of asking her out for a drink that night. Jane thinks only that Bonasera looked too good today for comfort and that hair like hers should simply not be allowed.