TITLE: Who drabbled what?
AUTHOR: MSCSIFANGSR and JellyBeanChiChi
RATING: Mature at times.
DISCLAIMER: We don't own them, we just play with them.
SPOILERS: Every show aired in the U.S. to date and can be AU at times.
Each drabble is 100 words, some are double drabbles of 200 words and all together there will be 200 drabbles, half written by one writer and half by the other. There will be 20 Chapters total in this group of stories and they are complete. We will post every couple of days to keep things interesting.
The biggest part of this story comes from you the reader: we will be having chapter contests to see if you readers can tell which drabble was written by which writer. It is up to the reader to respond in a review to tell us 'who drabbled what'. The person who guesses correctly will be given the honor of having their name posted in the next chapter. (Sorry, we couldn't think of a better prize than that, since WP is otherwise occupied...LOL.
Also all the prompts we've received have been given to us by some wonderful writers and readers from this site. Thanks everyone.
Now on to the fun!
Prompts given by: SylvieT: 1. Lycra 2. Pipette 3. Pupae 4. Baton 5. Free-falling.
Prompts given by: Durban: 6. Scent 7. Ache 8. Shy 9. Aerola 10. Glimpse.
Hodges was droning about the errant lycra fiber he'd found on a victim's clothes.
Grissom's undisguised longing gazes only moments before Hodges bust into the break room lingered in Sara's mind. She didn't hear a word Hodges said.
Fantasies should be private.
"Hodges, do you mind? We'd like to be alone." Grissom effectively ordered Hodges out the room.
As the lab tech slowly backed out of the room, carefully hoping not to fall down and embarrass himself in front of his idol Gil Grissom. It never entered his mind to question why Grissom and Sara needed to be alone.
Greg placed the pipette into the test tube.
He had been ordered by Catherine to compare a sample of her DNA with the latest suspect in an on-going investigation. He didn't think much about the request. She had been a CSI for a long time and surely she knew what was right and wrong.
Several minutes later, he held up his right hand with his fingers splayed apart, silently lowering one as the seconds counted down. A piece of 8 ½ x 11 inch paper slipped out of the printer.
He read the results, thinking, "We have a winner."
Grissom used tweezers to lift the pupae-casing off of the body, which had been discovered in a mining shaft, but his mind wasn't on his task at hand.
He felt himself harden slightly at the mental image of the woman he'd left in his bed: the nude Sara Sidle sleeping, sprawled out over the majority of his bed.
He shook his head to remove his thoughts as David Phillips looked on, questioning him wordlessly.
"It's nothing David, just wishing I was still at home in bed." Grissom lamented.
"I understand. I didn't get much sleep last night either."
Ecklie read over an excellent resume from a criminalist from Baton Rouge, Louisiana.
He decided if the person did well in the interview, they would be the last piece in the reorganization of swing-shift.
He'd interviewed for the two positions that were becoming vacant when Stokes and Brown returned to graveyard and had offered the supervisor position Willows had actively given up to one of his day-shift employees. He hired a level-2 from Bakerfield the day before.
Ecklie almost wished he hadn't promised Grissom the return of his team. He knew he had to do it or lose them all.
Gilbert Grissom felt that he was free-falling as he looked upon the beauty and majesty of the woman standing before him, nude.
Time and space ceased to exist.
The world ceased to exist.
Only the two of them mattered as she wordlessly approached him, wrapped her arms around his upper back then captured his lips with her own.
Their bodies pressed together in an age old erotic dance: there was nothing else.
His hands sought out her hips, drawing her closer, if possible, to him.
They swayed in time with the quiet jazz in the background.
Nothing mattered but this.
The scent of the lemon body wash filled the shower, neither of the occupants really noticed or even cared.
They were far more concerned with each other; how it felt to kiss that spot just beneath her ear or the sensation of his soapy hands creeping down her torso.
"I need you inside me," her husky voice demanded.
He made the move to pin her against the shower wall, but when he did, his foot slipped. They found themselves on the floor with the water trickling over their bodies.
Laughing, he said, "It would be safer in bed, my dear."
"I've got a tummy ache."
"You sound like a kid trying to trick their way into staying home instead of going to school." Grissom sounded agitated instead of the sympathy she'd envisioned.
She promptly stuck out her bottom lip and looked up at him with those big, brown puppy-dog eyes.
"You're being childish." His tone hadn't changed.
"No, I'm not," she pouted.
He reached across the bed, grabbed her arm, then drug her to his side of the bed. Touching her forehead, "You don't have any fever."
"I know, I'm not sick, I'm pregnant."
The legendary basketball coach of WLVU was sitting in the coffee shop sipping a 'Perrier' while eating a bag of baked potato chips when Grissom and Sara walked in.
"Coach," Grissom nodded as the couple eased into the chairs at his table.
"Gil, who is this lovely creature?"
"My fiancée, Sara Sidle. Sara, this is Coach Larry Creel, an old poker buddy."
Sara reached to shake the man's hand, but instead he lifted her hand to his mouth and placed a kiss just beneath her knuckles.
"I forgot to warn you, Sara, he's not shy."
The body on the morgue table had a distinct ornament attached through its right areola.
Albert Robbins stared at the sight in amazement. He turned to Grissom who was standing next to him wearing a blue lab coat.
"I've never seen anything like that, ever." Robbins lamented.
Grissom shook his head in agreement; he reached for his phone and began texting. When he was finished, Grissom showed his cell phone to his friend, "Young Sanders seems to have a pulse on the current happenings of society. I'm sure he'll know what it is."
"I certainly hope so."
He remembered his very first glimpse of her.
She strode confidently across the parking lot toward the lecture hall, but didn't notice him as he stood outside the building smoking a cigarette to calm his nerves, watching her every movement, before she disappeared.
He was scheduled to speak on a recent case to several CSI's from San Francisco; his old friend Malcolm had roped into the speech.
He thought wistfully he would much rather pursue the lovely brown haired girl than speak this afternoon.
When he looked up from the podium and saw her sitting in his audience, he smiled.
TBC
We promise to tell 'who drabbled what' in the next chapter.
Happy Holidays to all our readers and friends. Hope you enjoy this "Christmas gift" of sorts :-)