I'm a long-time X-Files fan, and in that particular fandom there is a class of stories known as "Tight Quarters" or "one bed fic." These shipper stories involved the sharing of (duh) a bed, usually in a far-off motel. Now most of the Tight Quarters pieces were quite spicy, and many were well-crafted and all-around fun to read. The following tale is my attempt to drive the OBF bus over into CSI land. It's set in fifth season. Expect profanity, adult situations, senseless and absurd dialogue, bizarre situations, and all-around weird and dirty fluff. Realize that I do know I'm being very loose when it comes to keeping them in character. This one will be fairly short and possibly really stupid. Not mine, alas.
tightquarterstightquartestightquarters
I was angry, so much so that my voice was shaking. "It's not fair, Grissom. Catherine has gotten to attend three seminars this year, and Warrick and Nick just got back from their second one this year. I haven't had a seminar in three years. Tell me, when does it get to be my turn?"
Heavy, dramatic, long-suffering sigh. "Alright, Sara. you win. You can go." Grissom's voice was laced with annoyance. This seemed to be the rule these days, at least when he was talking to me. "You use vacation for the time you're gone. The lab will foot airfare, seminar costs, and your hotel and food for the duration of the seminar, but you and your travel partner will have to share a room. It's in Raleigh, North Carolina , it lasts three days, Saturday through Monday, and you'll be traveling out on Friday and back on Friday. Tuesday, Wednsday, and Thursday's costs are on you. Don't look at me like that; we got a deal on airfare. You ARE the one who wanted to go."
"I guess I can live with that. Who else is going?"
"Someone I already promised a chance to go. Someone who's never been." His voice was clipped. "Greg Sanders."
When I found Greg in the break room he was grinning like a trained chimpanzee. "Hey, Sara, guess what?" He turned his chair to fully face me. "In two weeks I'm going to a seminar, and one of the sessions is on the latest in DNA. It's in North Carolina, Sara! I can't believe Grissom is letting me go." His eyes were bright with excitement, and his knees were bouncing up and down. He reminded me of Tigger. It mystified me that a thirty-year-old man could be so utterly adorable. He was an attractive man, but when he was really happy to the point of spasticity he was cute in a puppies-and-stuffed-animals kind of way. No one over age six was supposed to be able to be like that. I had this weird urge to hug him.
I smirked into my soda. "Really? Who's going with you?"
"Umm, Warrick I think." He sighed. Everyone knew that Greg was not Warrick's favorite person. Like Grissom, Warrick made Greg nervous, and being nervous made Greg screw up, and that made Warrick mad, which, well, made Greg even more nervous. After a whole shift of this the results weren't pretty. The two of them really didn't need to work as a pair. Ever.
"That's not what I heard."
Greg frowned. "Please don't tell me Grissom's decided to go. I can't take five days in a hotel room with that man. He raises roaches and maggots, and he hates me."
I chuckled. "No, Greg, Grissom isn't going. It's worse. Much, much worse." I dropped my voice to a whisper. "I am."
"YES!" He leaped up and pulled me into a warm embrace. Guess one of us didn't believe in resisting weird urges. "I'm a happy man!"
I could tell he really was happy, and getting happier as the hug went on if you know what I mean. The worst of it was, he didn't seem at all embarassed by the situation. "I'm glad you're okay with this." I stepped back - we WERE in the breakroom after all. "We leave on Friday and return one week later, the next Friday morning. The seminar is Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. We have to pay for our own room and board Tuesday, Wednsday, and Thursday."
"Well, we're sharing a room, so that shouldn't be too bad." He grinned. "Think of it this way: Three whole days to explore an unknown state. North Carolina has beaches, Sara. Beaches!" He grinned happily. "Just think of it: You and me, soaking up rays..."
"Mmmm. It's March."
"Well, we can stay somewhere cheap with a kitchenette for the extra days. Don't sweat it, Sara. It'll work out."
offtotheseminarofftotheseminarofftotheseminar
"Got everything." Greg grinned triumphantly and pulled the cart of luggage over to where I was sitting. The flight had been full of turbulence, and I was shaky and a little nauseated by the time we reached RDU. Greg, ever gallant, had insisted I sit down while he collected our luggage from the baggage carousel. I looked up as I considered what a solicitous gentleman he was, and I immediately noticed he was looking down my shirt. Uh, scratch that thought.
"Itinerary says our limo driver will meet us inside the airport. We're to look for a man with a sign."
Greg grinned his Joe Cool grin. "Limo, huh? Oh, yeah, we're going first class after all. ..."
"I see it! Sidle/Sanders, right over there..." I pointed at a posterboard sign held by a tiny man near the door. "Some limo driver." The guy was dressed in stained jeans and a wrinkled flannel shirt - Frohike gone homeless, I thought with disgust, and took off toward our chariot driver.
"Sidle/Sanders... good last name," breathed Greg over the clattering cart.
"What?"
"Uh, I said Sidle/Sanders, got our names."
I smiled at Frohike, who leered back and locked his gaze on my chest. "Well, hello there. Are you from the Las Vegas Crime Lab?"
"Uh, yeah..."
"I'm Benny, your driver. Come on; I'll take you to your hotel."
The "limo" turned out to be a 1977 Pinto station wagon with "Benny's Limos" spelled out in gold stick-on letters on the front doors. Oh, yeah, Grissom had made sure WE traveled first-class. Nothing too good for his favorite crims.
"Catherine said she got a stretch limo for the whole conference last time." Greg's voice was hushed. "He hates us."
"At least the hotel is decent." The car backfired as we pulled up in front of the Omni, a sleek glass high-rise.
Greg nodded. "This is nice. 'Course, it's where they're having the conference. He didn't have a lot of choice." He grinned back at me. "And our limo is still farting. Let's get away from it as fast as we can. It sounds like it wants to explode."
I didn't argue. We got our luggage and room key and headed for the room. "Fourteenth floor, no less." Greg pulled the cart into the elevator. "And they have an indoor pool. Things are looking up, Sara."
"Let's see the room first. We may be sleeping in a broom closet." I ran the card key through the reader and opened the door. I felt for the light switch as Greg push the cart in and stepped around it. He sucked in his breath and looked at me, then back into the room.
"Shit." I took a deep breath. "One bed."