*** Disclaimer ***
I don't own C.S.I. or any of its characters. Me... I guess I own myself... ^_^
*Hey, this is my first fanfic, so please review!!!*
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I plopped down at my desk, exhausted. It had seemed like this week lasted a lifetime... and I still had to finish that Bowman case. Triple homicide, noose used on all three. Not really my idea of a fun time... but then again it must be, because due to my current salary as a C.S.I. level 3 wasn't as much as most people thought. But hey, I love it just the same. I heard something beep and a grabbed my cell/pager out of my pocket. It's wicked cool (yeah, I'm part Bostonian); it's silver with dark blue stripes down the side. Very shui. Anyway, I looked at the name. WatsonCrick. Of course, I knew who it was.
Greg.
And hopefully with my DNA swab results.
I walked into his office, giving few small headbobs to the rock music blaring.
"A-ight, what's up? I know you wouldn't page me for nothing." He grinned. "Ok, you'd page me for nothing. But still. You got the results?" I asked.
"Yeah. It was the same guy."
"Sweet!" I yelled... a bit louder than I wanted to. I hugged him. "Woo-hoo! This ties up the case!" I noticed that I was still hugging him and he looked a bit uncomfortable. "Sorry," I said wincing and stepping back
"Okay, okay, I'll admit I'm not the most handsome guy," he said, "but I think I'm at least worth a hug."
"You're worth more than that, Greggo," I responded huskily, raising my eyebrows. He began to blush a bit so I decided to get back to what we were supposed to be talking about. "So can I have the results, or do I just get to stand here and look sexy until you give them to me?" Okay, okay, I'll admit it wasn't wise to bring up "sexual content" while you were trying to avoid that topic completely, but this was Greg Sanders. We joke around all the time.
"You can continue to stand here and look sexy if you really want to," he said sighing. I playfully punched him in the arm and he handed the results to me. "I'm almost done with the other swab match. Give me half an hour and stop back in then."
"Thanks soooo much!" I said again and left. He's a bit odd, but for some reason his brown eyes and bedhead strikes me as handsome.
I sat down at my desk and re-evaluated my evidence. I knew that if Tommy Larson's DNA was on the knife swab that Greg had, the case would be one hundred percent solved. But of course, I had to wait what he called half an hour (I call it eternity). I shuffled through papers on my desk. It really is a mess. I re-applied my Chap-Stick; I am a self-proclaimed Chap-Stick addict
.
I heard Grissom walk in.
"Kate, you okay?"
"Yeah. Greg has the final tie to my case," I said with fake enthusiasm. "Sure you're okay?" He pulled up the chair across my desk and sat down. "You just seem so stressed. I can take it if you want." It was weird for him to volunteer to take a case, but then, Grissom was very unpredictable. I changed the topic.
"How's Lady Heather?"
"Fine," he said in a tone that made it clear he didn't want to go further. I didn't push it.
"That's good. Oh, I thought I heard Nick say something about a shift party...?"
"Yeah, you didn't get an invitation? He told me he invited you. It's probably on your desk," he noted with dry humor. I rifled through some more papers to discover a blue envelope with my name on it. As I looked up at Gil again, I noticed the clock showed midnight; it had been fifteen minutes since I had talked with Greg. Maybe I could mooch it from him earlier than expected.
"Gil? I gotta get back to the DNA lab to pick up my results. Thanks for worrying."
"You're... welcome?"
"Sure." He and I stood up and walked out. I know he's my boss and everything, but I still feel so comfortable around him. He and I stood up and walked out.
But of course, Life's odd twists and turns catch up with you.
As I was turning the corner to get back to the lab, I- literally- ran into Nick.
"Sorry!" I said while extending a hand to my fallen comrade. "In such a rush to get swab results."
He nodded at my explanation and allowed me to help him up. "Yeah. Oh, I was hoping to talk to you about Friday night. You've gotten your invitation?"
I remembered the envelope sitting like a small boat in a sea of white papers. "Yup, but I haven't gotten a chance to open it."
"Well," Stokes responded, "it basically says that one, we're going out to Sampson's, and two, you need a date." He laughed as my jaw dropped.
"A DATE?!?! You know that I don't date... ARGH!!" I shook my head and calmed down. "So who are you going with? Sara?" He blushed.
"No. I think I might go with that new photo tech, Laurie I think?"
"Yeah, it's Laurie." I saw his eyes open wide in panic as he heard her behind him. I had known Laurie from a previous job at the Anchorage C.S.I. Department. "What were you going to do?"
"I'll leave you two lovebirds to sort this out, neh?" I said. "I need to get my results!"
Laurie whispered something in my ear as I walked by. "You going to ask Sanders?"
"Sure, why not?" I answered with a shrug. "Or maybe Archie."
I opened Greg's lab's door and re-immersed myself in rock heaven.
"My, isn't it a bit loud?!" I yelled over a guitar solo. He looked up from a machine and hit the "stop" button on his boom box.
"Not really. Why are you back so soon? You've still got ten minutes." I rolled my eyes. "You goin' to Nick's party?"
"Sure," I answered shrugging. "I mean, why not? It's not like this job leaves much room for a life. Anyway, my invite is still on my black hole of a desk. What I know about it is from my run-in with Stokes a few minutes ago."
"Here," he said, handing me his invitation. I scanned the sheet quickly. The only thing I really learned was that it was casual. And Sampson's was a club. As in dance club. Well, it was a restaurant too, but I seriously doubt Stokes would invite us all out to eat. I suddenly heard the printer whirring. We both reached for the still-warm sheet, but Greg was faster.
"He looked over it with mock enthusiasm. "Wow! This is good stuff!" He put the paper behind his back. "So Katie... who're ya going with?" I rolled my eyes again. I knew that it was either going to be Archie or him, so I might as well play along to get my printout.
"You."
"Really? I might be going with Catherine, but... I guess I'll just have to turn her down," he said before handing me the paper.
"Greg, she'd never ask you. And secondly, she's going with me." We turned to see a disheveled, surviving-off-caffeine Warrick.
"Katie, you're going with him? I mean, not like he's ugly or abusive or anything... I mean, I'm not gay or anything..." Greg sputtered uncertainly.
I laughed. He was so confused. "Cat is going with Warr."
Greg pretended to look forlorn. "So my love hath abandoned me?"
"Yes," answered Warrick. "And I need those trace tests back now! You did page me ten minutes ago.
"Sorry," replied Greg as he handed the taller man his papers. Brown walked silently out of the room. Greg turned back to me. "So, when can I pick you up?"
I don't own C.S.I. or any of its characters. Me... I guess I own myself... ^_^
*Hey, this is my first fanfic, so please review!!!*
____________________________________________________________________________________________
I plopped down at my desk, exhausted. It had seemed like this week lasted a lifetime... and I still had to finish that Bowman case. Triple homicide, noose used on all three. Not really my idea of a fun time... but then again it must be, because due to my current salary as a C.S.I. level 3 wasn't as much as most people thought. But hey, I love it just the same. I heard something beep and a grabbed my cell/pager out of my pocket. It's wicked cool (yeah, I'm part Bostonian); it's silver with dark blue stripes down the side. Very shui. Anyway, I looked at the name. WatsonCrick. Of course, I knew who it was.
Greg.
And hopefully with my DNA swab results.
I walked into his office, giving few small headbobs to the rock music blaring.
"A-ight, what's up? I know you wouldn't page me for nothing." He grinned. "Ok, you'd page me for nothing. But still. You got the results?" I asked.
"Yeah. It was the same guy."
"Sweet!" I yelled... a bit louder than I wanted to. I hugged him. "Woo-hoo! This ties up the case!" I noticed that I was still hugging him and he looked a bit uncomfortable. "Sorry," I said wincing and stepping back
"Okay, okay, I'll admit I'm not the most handsome guy," he said, "but I think I'm at least worth a hug."
"You're worth more than that, Greggo," I responded huskily, raising my eyebrows. He began to blush a bit so I decided to get back to what we were supposed to be talking about. "So can I have the results, or do I just get to stand here and look sexy until you give them to me?" Okay, okay, I'll admit it wasn't wise to bring up "sexual content" while you were trying to avoid that topic completely, but this was Greg Sanders. We joke around all the time.
"You can continue to stand here and look sexy if you really want to," he said sighing. I playfully punched him in the arm and he handed the results to me. "I'm almost done with the other swab match. Give me half an hour and stop back in then."
"Thanks soooo much!" I said again and left. He's a bit odd, but for some reason his brown eyes and bedhead strikes me as handsome.
I sat down at my desk and re-evaluated my evidence. I knew that if Tommy Larson's DNA was on the knife swab that Greg had, the case would be one hundred percent solved. But of course, I had to wait what he called half an hour (I call it eternity). I shuffled through papers on my desk. It really is a mess. I re-applied my Chap-Stick; I am a self-proclaimed Chap-Stick addict
.
I heard Grissom walk in.
"Kate, you okay?"
"Yeah. Greg has the final tie to my case," I said with fake enthusiasm. "Sure you're okay?" He pulled up the chair across my desk and sat down. "You just seem so stressed. I can take it if you want." It was weird for him to volunteer to take a case, but then, Grissom was very unpredictable. I changed the topic.
"How's Lady Heather?"
"Fine," he said in a tone that made it clear he didn't want to go further. I didn't push it.
"That's good. Oh, I thought I heard Nick say something about a shift party...?"
"Yeah, you didn't get an invitation? He told me he invited you. It's probably on your desk," he noted with dry humor. I rifled through some more papers to discover a blue envelope with my name on it. As I looked up at Gil again, I noticed the clock showed midnight; it had been fifteen minutes since I had talked with Greg. Maybe I could mooch it from him earlier than expected.
"Gil? I gotta get back to the DNA lab to pick up my results. Thanks for worrying."
"You're... welcome?"
"Sure." He and I stood up and walked out. I know he's my boss and everything, but I still feel so comfortable around him. He and I stood up and walked out.
But of course, Life's odd twists and turns catch up with you.
As I was turning the corner to get back to the lab, I- literally- ran into Nick.
"Sorry!" I said while extending a hand to my fallen comrade. "In such a rush to get swab results."
He nodded at my explanation and allowed me to help him up. "Yeah. Oh, I was hoping to talk to you about Friday night. You've gotten your invitation?"
I remembered the envelope sitting like a small boat in a sea of white papers. "Yup, but I haven't gotten a chance to open it."
"Well," Stokes responded, "it basically says that one, we're going out to Sampson's, and two, you need a date." He laughed as my jaw dropped.
"A DATE?!?! You know that I don't date... ARGH!!" I shook my head and calmed down. "So who are you going with? Sara?" He blushed.
"No. I think I might go with that new photo tech, Laurie I think?"
"Yeah, it's Laurie." I saw his eyes open wide in panic as he heard her behind him. I had known Laurie from a previous job at the Anchorage C.S.I. Department. "What were you going to do?"
"I'll leave you two lovebirds to sort this out, neh?" I said. "I need to get my results!"
Laurie whispered something in my ear as I walked by. "You going to ask Sanders?"
"Sure, why not?" I answered with a shrug. "Or maybe Archie."
I opened Greg's lab's door and re-immersed myself in rock heaven.
"My, isn't it a bit loud?!" I yelled over a guitar solo. He looked up from a machine and hit the "stop" button on his boom box.
"Not really. Why are you back so soon? You've still got ten minutes." I rolled my eyes. "You goin' to Nick's party?"
"Sure," I answered shrugging. "I mean, why not? It's not like this job leaves much room for a life. Anyway, my invite is still on my black hole of a desk. What I know about it is from my run-in with Stokes a few minutes ago."
"Here," he said, handing me his invitation. I scanned the sheet quickly. The only thing I really learned was that it was casual. And Sampson's was a club. As in dance club. Well, it was a restaurant too, but I seriously doubt Stokes would invite us all out to eat. I suddenly heard the printer whirring. We both reached for the still-warm sheet, but Greg was faster.
"He looked over it with mock enthusiasm. "Wow! This is good stuff!" He put the paper behind his back. "So Katie... who're ya going with?" I rolled my eyes again. I knew that it was either going to be Archie or him, so I might as well play along to get my printout.
"You."
"Really? I might be going with Catherine, but... I guess I'll just have to turn her down," he said before handing me the paper.
"Greg, she'd never ask you. And secondly, she's going with me." We turned to see a disheveled, surviving-off-caffeine Warrick.
"Katie, you're going with him? I mean, not like he's ugly or abusive or anything... I mean, I'm not gay or anything..." Greg sputtered uncertainly.
I laughed. He was so confused. "Cat is going with Warr."
Greg pretended to look forlorn. "So my love hath abandoned me?"
"Yes," answered Warrick. "And I need those trace tests back now! You did page me ten minutes ago.
"Sorry," replied Greg as he handed the taller man his papers. Brown walked silently out of the room. Greg turned back to me. "So, when can I pick you up?"