Title Pastime
(for the drabble on demand)
Bishop licked the salt from the rim of the Martha Stewart Signature crystal and took another swig of Salty Dog.
Eames, glowing over Bishop's reaction to her account of Goren sniffing the fingers of a corpse, admired the ripple of Bishop's adams apple against her porcelin skin.
The women were engaging in their favorite off hour pastime--Bobby bashing--and were half past the hour and three sheets to the wind.
"You think THAT'S incredible," Lynn said, supressing a burp and focusing fuzzily on the diminutive detective before her. "He once informed me that a 25 foot garden hose holds a pint, and a 50 footer holds a quart. I started to ask him what 10 inches holds, but thought better of it."
The women cackled merrily and had another round. Then, inexplicably, Eames sobered. "That's sad," she said.
Lynn nodded in agreement, "That is sad. This guy...he knows all this stuff, and yet he's just so...so...."
"Inept?"
Bishop nodded. "Yeah." A thought struck her. "Does he ever get laid?"
Eames, who could still smell the lingering scent of Bobby's cologne on her neck, shrugged.
"Beats me," she said innocently.
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(for the drabble on demand)
Bishop licked the salt from the rim of the Martha Stewart Signature crystal and took another swig of Salty Dog.
Eames, glowing over Bishop's reaction to her account of Goren sniffing the fingers of a corpse, admired the ripple of Bishop's adams apple against her porcelin skin.
The women were engaging in their favorite off hour pastime--Bobby bashing--and were half past the hour and three sheets to the wind.
"You think THAT'S incredible," Lynn said, supressing a burp and focusing fuzzily on the diminutive detective before her. "He once informed me that a 25 foot garden hose holds a pint, and a 50 footer holds a quart. I started to ask him what 10 inches holds, but thought better of it."
The women cackled merrily and had another round. Then, inexplicably, Eames sobered. "That's sad," she said.
Lynn nodded in agreement, "That is sad. This guy...he knows all this stuff, and yet he's just so...so...."
"Inept?"
Bishop nodded. "Yeah." A thought struck her. "Does he ever get laid?"
Eames, who could still smell the lingering scent of Bobby's cologne on her neck, shrugged.
"Beats me," she said innocently.
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