Disclaimer: I don't own CSI. They only come out once a week, so I just like to exercise them in between.

Rating: seemed appropriate.

A/N: Got really, really bored in a geography lesson, and the little plot weavers that sit in my head started weaving. Feel free to tell me if they haven't been weaving so well. Sorry for any mistakes, I'm only human. A bit OOC, but it's up to you. Oh, and this is complete fluff. It's little fluff ball for you little kittens to play with. Oh, and I'm poking fun at all the ships. Don't take offense, because if you can't laugh at yourself, then you don't have a sense of humour. Oh, if your ship isn't here, I'm sorry, but I don't have a big enough brain to fit them all in.

When Crazy Fans Attack

It was a slow night at the Las Vegas crime lab. Two hours into shift, and still no cases. The nightshift CSIs sat around the breakroom table, sipping an excuse for coffee.

Grissom stared at the vaguely liquid, brownish sludge in his mug, which was, might I add, decorated with various specimens of beetles. He stared at it as if it hid a DB in its disgustingness.

Catherine was across the table, and was flipping through the latest copy of Vogue, occasionally showing something to a disinterested Sara.

Sara, next to Catherine, was attempting to read a forensics journal. This was proving difficult. Tasteless Marilyn Manson blared at an ear-drum bursting level from the DNA lab, where Greg was supposed to be working on backlog. Add that to Catherine's rather pointed remarks about her fashion sense, it was a struggle not to strangle someone.

Nick and Warrick were sprawled on the sofa, debating the Superbowl teams' betting odds in the paper. This would be very inconsiderate of Nick, seeing as he's supposedly 'Rick's best friend, but whatever.

Suddenly, a loud, high pitched screaming interrupted tedious boredom. All five jumped up alarmed. Five girls, looking about 12ish, to 16, ran madly into the breakroom, shrieking, "It's them! Oh my God! This is the best day of my life! It's them, it's them!"

A blonde girl, roughly 12, threw herself without any thought for bodily harm at Sara's feet. "Oh my GOD! I can't believe I'm meeting you Sara. You're my absolute hero, you should get married to Grissom and have kids, we know you love each other, and and and and… OH MY GOD!" Sara tried, without much luck to shake the clinging girl from her knees.

Meanwhile, just to confuse all the CSIs, a good looking 16 year old, walked up to Warrick, simply stated "I love you." and proceeded to kiss him passionately. Warrick, looking shocked, surprised and beleaguered, pulled her off himself.

Grissom stared at all of this, his eyebrows twitching as a girl of only 15 berated Nick for not "getting his act together and asking Sara out."

"Jesus Christ! Get this freak away from me!" Catherine screamed, even forgetting to flip her hair as she was backed into the corner by an incoherently babbling, foaming-at-the-mouth Willows obsessive. All you could make out was the repeated use of Grillows. Grissom still stood, eyebrows wide up. He was too shocked to do much, until a red headed girl, about 13, screamed at him to get his head out the "icky" bugs and admit his undying love for Sara.

"Alright!" Grissom yelled. This was so unusual and so out of character that everyone shut right up and looked at him. "Girls, stand over there please. Do you think you could let go of Sara now? Thank you. Team, here."

"So," adopting the role of investigator, Grissom looked at the crazy girls over the top of his glasses. "Most importantly, how do you know who we are?" "Well, you're on TV every week for starters, reruns not counted. There's DVDs of almost every season, which are really expensive. Computer games, board games about the crimes you solve. Millions of your fans write fanfiction all about you. That's what we do. Didn't you know?" the Catherine obsessive explained, having calmed down a bit. "I hate Sara! That nearly got my darling Warrick fired! She is such a Suck up to Grissom!" The Warrick obsessive burst out randomly. Sara scowled at her, Warrick just looked confused.

The Snicker and GSRs, especially the GSRs, started screaming, swearing at and flaming the Warrick fan. Almost anything they said would have to be censored for this rating. At this moment, an Asian girl with milky-coffee skin dragged a bemused and horrified Greg into the room. She smiled sweetly at Sara. "Sara, we all know that you love Greg. Just tell, him then you can go out and he can propose." "Sara, I swear, I have nothing to do with this!" Greg screamed as Sara shot him a look that could have shrivelled, if looks could actually do that.

Outraged, the GSRs rounded on the Sandle fan and started bad mouthing Greg, and saying that Sara and Grissom are obviously the perfect couple. The Snicker got involved, and the Grillows fan, and within 12 seconds they were all heatedly screaming. (it wasn't nearly civilised enough to call an argument)

Fed up with these adolescent animals deciding whom she loved, Sara leapt up onto a chair and yelled over them; "Shut up! I can decide who the hell I like myself! I don't need a few hundred lunatic, psychotic obsessives to plan out my love life! I don't like any of these guys!" Seeing Nick and Greg's rather offended looks, she hastily added "They're wonderful friends, and excellent coworkers, but I don't like them that way!" "But," started the GSR, "Grissom! But what about Play With Fire after the explosion, when you asked Grissom out? What about Butterflied, with Debbie Marlin! When you knocked the walls down and you brushed imaginary chalk off his face?"

Sara blushed an interesting sort of pink. "You…saw, and heard all that? How?" "Not only us. MILLIONS of people, all over the world, in several languages. How do you not notice a camera crew trailing around the lab!" Sara went an even more curious colour, and looked apologetically at Gil. Grissom simply raised his eyebrow in recognition. He spoke quietly "Phone Brass."

Whipping her fancy phone off her belt, a phone that criminalists shouldn't be able to afford, Catherine hit the speed dial number for Brass. "Hi Jim, Catherine." Pause. "LaughsWhatever, Brass. Anyway, before you choke to death on your whisky, send some officers down here." Pause. "The breakroom. Six minors, they seem to be madly obsessed with us. Very disturbing. But don't come down yourself, they might recognise you and go hyper active again, like when Lindsey had that whole bag of candyfloss and three chocolate bars, so we don't want that." Short pause. "They say we're on TV loads in some sort of series, and there's DVDs." Pause for a few minutes."Laughs Ok, yeah. Send the uniforms. Bye." She snapped the phone shut.

The Catherine fanatic was staring blankly at an empty space, evidently imagining some far-fetched Grillows scene. The Warrick fan was looking longing at Warrick, writing a Mary-Sue fic, starring herself, in her head. The Snicker was talking to Nick about the wonders of a site called and the GSRs were leaping around for the joy of it all, screaming "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" at an eerily high-pitched note. Sandle was talking to Greg about how Grissom should just let a Sandle relationship happen, and stop being so mean to Greg. Sara and Catherine, fearing for their sanity, had curled up under the breakroom table to hide from the fans that go "EEE!" (Get your minds out the gutter, people! I said, NO ships in this thing!)

Not soon enough for the team, a group of officers burst into the breakroom over-dramatically. "Alright! Line up here in a line ((police grammar isn't good)) and stop that squealing!" The weird obsessives where herded off to Las Vegas PD, where their parents were going to be contacted.

But, there was a problem. They walked past Ecklie in the corridor. His evilness, combined with the fact that EVERYONE hates him, caused the fans to melt like the wicked witch of the west in a puddle of anger, hate, pain, and hate.

With the fans safely liquidised, the team and Greg leapt around dancing and singing Who Are you by the Who, for no particular reason. Ecklie scurried off to his lair to fill out paper work for accidental deaths n the premises, and the cops dashed of to bang a perp's door down in Henderson.

"Whew!" Greg yelled. "That was weird. But, Sara they have a point. We really should go out…" "No!"

"Well," said Nick in his strange Texas accent, "I am NEVER going to go on You know that some people think that HODGES and I have a little thang goin' on." "Hell no!" cried Warrick

Catherine had forgotten to pick up Lindsey to get her to school again, so she dashed for her car, swearing and flipping her hair as she went.

Grissom simply grinned his gorgeous smile, and said "Well, it was very interesting to observe the behaviour of OCD teenagers exposed to their obsession. I wonder what adults would be like……" He wandered off, deep in thought…

Then he wandered back for the last chorus of Who Are You? Then a little thing came up on the screen saying "Created by Anthony Zuiker" , which really confused everyone.

A/N: So? Want do you think? Review and tell me!