Expert to Expert
By Anansay
A stream of curses floated out from the office at the end of the hall and Sara raised her head from her computer screen, a frown marring her forehead. They came again, a little more colourful this time and Sara's curiosity got the better of her. She rose from her stool, stretched her tight back and went in search of the sailor who might have found his way into the CSI headquarters.
She rounded the corner and was once again confronted with words that could cause her toes to curl. She took a deep breath and steeled herself for the invectives that would be hurled her way when she interrupted the oral defecation.
Grissom was sitting as this desk and leaning forward toward his computer. It rested to the side of his desk so she could plainly see the intense furrow in his brows and his pursed lips. When his hands flew in the air, shook about and came crashing down on his desk causing the monitor to wobble dangerously, Sara thought about quietly turning around and leaving the imminent mechanical death crime scene. But a death wish must have been granted as her feet did not move, but her mouth did.
"Grissom? Is something wrong?"
A bellow such as Sara'd never heard before issued forth from between clenched teeth and Grissom turned his steely grey eyes on her and barked, "What?!"
Her face became a bland expression of mild curiosity. "Uh, you having trouble with something?"
"No," came his curt reply.
"Really?" she said advancing slowly forward, so as not to spook the curmudgeon that had apparently taken over her boss' body. "You sure? Cause -"
"I said no and I meant no now, can a man have some peace and quiet please… NO!!" he yelled as his eyes caught something alarming on his screen. His fingers danced rapidly over keys and his breath hissed through his pursed lips. A vein throbbed in his temple.
Sara had reached his desk and was carefully peering at his monitor, a hand on his desk for leverage. The screen flickered and another window came up, "We're sorry, you do not have access to this site."
Sara winced as another stream of epithets shattered the tense silence. "You're trying to install MSN?" she asked.
"No. I am not trying. I am doing it," Grissom, not meeting her eyes.
Sara nodded her head slowly, as though attempting to pacify a psychiatric patient. "I see."
Grissom spun around to glare at her. "What do you see?"
Sara regarded him coldly. "I see someone whose frustrated because things aren't going the way he wants them to."
He continued to glare at her uber-calmness and then something totally out of character happened: his upper lip lifted on one side and he actually sneered at her!
Sara chose to ignore such infantile behavior. "Would you like some assistance?"
"No. I would not like some assistance, Sara. I'm perfectly capable of installing a damn program on a computer!"
"Right."
"I am!"
"Sure."
He mumbled something which Sara did not bother to ask repeated. She came around and stood behind him, watching the screens flicker and sensing his tension rise. "What's your pulse at now?" she asked quietly.
"What does that have to do with anything?" he grumbled quietly.
Sara continued to observe this comedy of errors as Grissom encountered one road block after another. When his cursor hovered over a particular link, she advised against it, "Uh-uh. Not that one."
His cursor moved to the other one. "Uh, I wouldn't do that."
When his cursor moved to a third and she once again made her opinion known, the mouse went flying across the desk and Grissom spun his chair around and glared up at the brunette. "Oh, so you know how to do this then?"
"It's on my computer at home."
Grissom only continued glaring at Sara before standing up. Sara didn't move as her eyes followed him up, a challenge passing between them both. When he was standing up, their chests barely touched and she could feel his deep heavy angry breathing on her face. She didn't flinch, only continued to meet his stare with a hard one of her own.
His hand swung out from his side, gracing the computer. "Be my guest," he said, his voice dripping with saccharine coolness.
Sara raised her eyebrow in acceptance of his challenge and brushed by his inert body to occupy his chair, leaving him standing behind her. The heat emanating from his body singed her flesh through her clothes but she fought it down and acquainted herself with the screen and his personal computer.
"What the devil is this?" was the first thing from her lips as the mouse, now under her expert control, cruised across the screen, clicking on the already opened windows. "Why do you have five windows open?"
"I needed the information in each window, so I kept them all opened. Is… is that bad?" his normally quietly authoritative voice held just a hint of perplexity.
"No, not really. It just makes things run slower and less efficiently."
"Oh."
He was silent as Sara calmly perused his system, clicking here, dragging there, closing this window, opening that one. In no time, there was an order to Grissom's chaos and he could just make out the direction she was headed in. "So… if I'd done it that way… it would have worked?" he asked.
"Maybe… maybe not."
Her chair jerked slightly as his hands gripped it in frustration. Sara knew she was being deliberately obtuse but here was her chance at besting Grissom, at proving that she knew something that he did not.
Now came the momentous part. "Grissom, what's your name?"
"What?"
She turned her head upward toward him. He was staring down at her with a look of utter puzzlement on his face, as though she'd just appeared in his chair. "Your name, your alias. What do you want to be called on MSN?"
"Oh. Uh… let me type it in," he moved to get in, but Sara didn't move.
"Grissom, just let me type it in, it's faster that way."
Grissom just sighed loudly and mumbled something incoherent.
"What was that?"
Another mumble.
"Grissom, you're gonna have to speak up, I can't exactly put in mrkng."
Grissom sighed loudly. "BugMan."
Sara spun around and regarded her boss with raised eyebrows. He glared down at her. "What? You asked."
"Yeah and I wish I hadn't."
"Well then let me finish this!" Grissom said, his exasperation showing clear through.
"Grissom," Sara's own patience wearing thin. "It'll just take a few more minutes. Now, your password."
"Oh, I am not telling you that!"
"Grissom. Just give me the damn word. You can change it later if your afraid I'll break in and pretend I'm… BugMan," she said the last part with a hint of sarcasm. "Besides, I'm not at all interested in roaches… in that way."
Grissom perched himself on his desk, arms folded over his chest.
"Are you gonna tell me or not? The quicker you do, the faster I can be out of your hair. Now give."
"Roachking."
An eyebrow rose. "You think that highly of yourself, Griss?"
His foot swung out and kicked her chair. "That's enough! Let me in there!"
She turned back. "Just a minute, almost done."
A few more clicks and all but one window shut down. The remaining window asked for his name and password. "There. All set. I even put an icon on your desktop for easy access. No hunting around for it. Ta-da!" Sara stood up and gracefully extended her arm to his chair. "All yours, bugman."
He glared at her some more before grudgingly taking his seat. Another mumble.
"What was that?"
"Thank you," he said carefully.
"Your welcome!" Sara responded with false amusement.
As Sara was turning away to head back to her own computer, she heard him call out, as quietly as he could, "I better not hear of this around CSI!"
Her laughter was his only response.