Rating: PG
Summary: A warning to sleep-talkers, lab techs and Pearl Jam fans. And people who fall under all three of those categories.
Spoilers: None whatsoever.
Disclaimer: CSI belongs to what's-his-name and thingy.
A/N: As you'll probably gather, I'm bored. Deadly bored. And I also happen to be under the influence of caffeine. Please bear with me - my muse is, as per usual, AWOL.
***
"I am FREEZING." Sara complained, ambling into the break room. Like the rest of the graveyard shift, she was bundled up in scarves and numerous layers of clothing. She immediately noticed the parts of a radiator on the table. Well, they were a little hard to miss. "What's going on?" she demanded, watching Warrick insert a screwdriver into a disassembled part of a radiator. "Fixing the heating." he mumbled. Sara frowned. "I'm not even gonna go there."
With that, she sat down on a chair near Catherine, who was reading a glossy, her feet on the table. Greg was snoozing, regardless of his noisy surroundings, opposite them. 'Aww. He almost looks sweet.', Sara thought.
They sat in silence for a few moments, watching as Warrick finally seemed to have found the root of the problem. Wincing, he pulled a pair of extremely greasy camisole panties out of the radiator. "Eww!" Shrieked Catherine, jumping out of her chair.
This appeared to rouse Greg, but he just shifted, and mumbled, "Banana fritters." in his sleep. Frowning, Catherine sat back down in her chair, the underwear forgotten. "What was that, Greg?" she asked, a smirk replacing her frown. So little Greggo was a sleep-talker. 'This should be fun.', she thought, conjuring up hundreds of humiliating questions to ask him.
But Greg only mumbled in response. "What's that, Greg?" Catherine pushed, smiling wickedly at Sara, and cocking her head at the lab tech. Warrick's interest had been gained, and he stopped messing around with the radiator to listen. "Sara's so pretty." Greg declared, smiling in his sleep.
Catherine giggled; Sara looked shocked. Warrick narrowed his eyes. "Oh is she?"
"Mmm-hmm."
Catherine put her fingers to her lips; grabbed the panties; reached over the table, silent as she could be, and put the panties snugly onto Greg's head.
She then asked her next question. "Greg, what size underwear do you wear?" Even Sara laughed at that, covering her mouth to suppress her giggling. "Hung like a donkey!" Greg yelled, still asleep. That sent the girls into hysterics. Their incessant laughing finally woke the lab tech up.
"What? Where's the fire!?" he yelled, looking about sleepily. Sara wasn't able to control herself.
"There!" she screamed, pointing behind him. He turned around wildly, looking for the flames; the camisoles flapped on his head. Catherine hunched up, unable to breathe properly with her laughter. "I refuse to be treated like this!" Greg said, huffily, as he strode out of the break room.
Even Warrick was chuckling at the sight. At that moment, on his way to the break room to hand out assignments, Grissom spotted the lab tech striding into his lab with woman's underwear on his head.
He rolled his eyes, and began giving out assignments. As his team got up to leave, he stopped them. "Oh, and why does Greg have a pair of panties on his head?" he asked when he was done.
"I was wondering that myself." Sara said, frowning.
"Yeah. He's a weird kid, that one." Agreed Catherine, nodding.
***
Greg was toiling away in his lab, the door open and Pearl Jam thumping from his radio. He noticed the young new coroner from dayshift staring at him from outside his lab. He clicked his tongue, pointed at her, and winked. She gave him an odd look, and stalked off. "Yup. She fancies me." he said, cockily, to himself.
Summary: A warning to sleep-talkers, lab techs and Pearl Jam fans. And people who fall under all three of those categories.
Spoilers: None whatsoever.
Disclaimer: CSI belongs to what's-his-name and thingy.
A/N: As you'll probably gather, I'm bored. Deadly bored. And I also happen to be under the influence of caffeine. Please bear with me - my muse is, as per usual, AWOL.
***
"I am FREEZING." Sara complained, ambling into the break room. Like the rest of the graveyard shift, she was bundled up in scarves and numerous layers of clothing. She immediately noticed the parts of a radiator on the table. Well, they were a little hard to miss. "What's going on?" she demanded, watching Warrick insert a screwdriver into a disassembled part of a radiator. "Fixing the heating." he mumbled. Sara frowned. "I'm not even gonna go there."
With that, she sat down on a chair near Catherine, who was reading a glossy, her feet on the table. Greg was snoozing, regardless of his noisy surroundings, opposite them. 'Aww. He almost looks sweet.', Sara thought.
They sat in silence for a few moments, watching as Warrick finally seemed to have found the root of the problem. Wincing, he pulled a pair of extremely greasy camisole panties out of the radiator. "Eww!" Shrieked Catherine, jumping out of her chair.
This appeared to rouse Greg, but he just shifted, and mumbled, "Banana fritters." in his sleep. Frowning, Catherine sat back down in her chair, the underwear forgotten. "What was that, Greg?" she asked, a smirk replacing her frown. So little Greggo was a sleep-talker. 'This should be fun.', she thought, conjuring up hundreds of humiliating questions to ask him.
But Greg only mumbled in response. "What's that, Greg?" Catherine pushed, smiling wickedly at Sara, and cocking her head at the lab tech. Warrick's interest had been gained, and he stopped messing around with the radiator to listen. "Sara's so pretty." Greg declared, smiling in his sleep.
Catherine giggled; Sara looked shocked. Warrick narrowed his eyes. "Oh is she?"
"Mmm-hmm."
Catherine put her fingers to her lips; grabbed the panties; reached over the table, silent as she could be, and put the panties snugly onto Greg's head.
She then asked her next question. "Greg, what size underwear do you wear?" Even Sara laughed at that, covering her mouth to suppress her giggling. "Hung like a donkey!" Greg yelled, still asleep. That sent the girls into hysterics. Their incessant laughing finally woke the lab tech up.
"What? Where's the fire!?" he yelled, looking about sleepily. Sara wasn't able to control herself.
"There!" she screamed, pointing behind him. He turned around wildly, looking for the flames; the camisoles flapped on his head. Catherine hunched up, unable to breathe properly with her laughter. "I refuse to be treated like this!" Greg said, huffily, as he strode out of the break room.
Even Warrick was chuckling at the sight. At that moment, on his way to the break room to hand out assignments, Grissom spotted the lab tech striding into his lab with woman's underwear on his head.
He rolled his eyes, and began giving out assignments. As his team got up to leave, he stopped them. "Oh, and why does Greg have a pair of panties on his head?" he asked when he was done.
"I was wondering that myself." Sara said, frowning.
"Yeah. He's a weird kid, that one." Agreed Catherine, nodding.
***
Greg was toiling away in his lab, the door open and Pearl Jam thumping from his radio. He noticed the young new coroner from dayshift staring at him from outside his lab. He clicked his tongue, pointed at her, and winked. She gave him an odd look, and stalked off. "Yup. She fancies me." he said, cockily, to himself.