Once upon a dream… by Jennifer Rain
A/N: CSI-dream fic. It's pretty much about how this girl Jenn (based on me, but not totally me) and her best friend Gen (Geneva) are twisted in a world of love, lies, hate, and all that other angsty-romancy good stuff with their respective CSIs. p It's Greg Sanders/OC (Jenn), Gil Grissom/OC (Gen), Sara Sidle/Nick Stokes, and Cath Willows/Warrick Brown, yo. A little paranoia from Hodges, as well. It should be amusing, and horrifying and fluffy all at once. Please forgive the constant sarcasm weaved through practically every word, it's a habit of mine. Now, enjoy the prolouge and expect more within the next week.
"And I believe this may call for a proper introduction,
And well, don't you see, I'm the narrator and this is just the prologue."
-"The only difference between martyrdom and suicide is press coverage," Panic! At the Disco.
Prologue
Well, I suppose for you to even consider hearing my story I'll have to introduce myself.
The name's Jenn. Jennifer Rose Carter, to be totally precise. I'm you're narrator for today. This, my friends, is called a prologue. It contains everything (in summary) that happened before the encounters and events concealed within my mind and exposed in the following pages. This is what happened before the wonderful dreams and terrifying nightmares that turned out to be reality occurred. This is my story and the story of my new and old friends, our dreams, fears, lies and lives, all combined and thrown together.
At least, this is how I picture it. But that's what I do. I'm a writer. I write. That's all I do. I observe, I watch, I record. I was always supposed to be a writer… until one day…
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My fingers tapped incessantly on the desk. The day would never end, the clock would tick on forever, wasting my time and draining my life. 'Drama queen,' I thought bitterly, hating how I over react to every little thing.
I saw my daydream play out in front of me, for once a guy fell in love with me and took my breath away. For once I got a dose of the romanticism I so desperately longed for, needing to be filled at least momentarily for the hopeless romantic inside of me couldn't thrive long without love, and yet I had nothing to feed it; no willing suitors, no realistic crushes, no knights in shining armor.
I sighed, and stood, no longer willing to wait for my job interview at this new crime lab. I'd been interviewed twice for two others, but was refused. Perfect. My music was turned down, my novels turned away, my skills as a forensic scientist overlooked and my heart completely shielded from any possible trust and hurt. I hate the way I live.
Just as I reached for the doorknob, it turned and a young guy, only a few years older than me walked in the room. He was as surprised as I was, and narrowed his brown eyes in confusion.
My heart skipped a beat but I told myself firmly to ignore the hopelessly desperate feeling I was getting to just profess my like for him right then and there; after all, I knew nothing about him. He could be a freak for all I know, not that it bothered me because I certainly wasn't far from that, myself.
He had said something, but I was lost in my thoughts again, seeing a pen write across a blank sheet of paper in my mind as I always do when I think; I cant just ever think, I have to write. Can't touch, have to feel. Can't listen, have to hear. I've always been like this, seeing movies, hearing music, thinking novels, feeling the elements; I could never simply exist. I observe and record. It's the only thing I'm good at and the only thing I'm meant for, I'm not meant to fall for someone and end up falling to far. I'm not meant to have my heart shattered, and if I am I'm certainly not prepared for it.
So I just smile politely and say, "Er, sorry. I'm waiting to be interviewed…"
Realization dawned on his completely adorable features and he nodded, returning the polite smile and adding a nod. He held out his hand to shake mine and said two simple words, "Greg Sanders."
I cringed, inwardly at how hypnotizing his eyes were and soothing his voice was. 'Damn, how on earth will I ever keep composed? Romantic or not, I'm definitely hopeless, and I need to keep my focus on getting this job…'
I shake his hand firmly and say as softly as I can manage, "I'm Jenn."
I avoid his gaze at all costs and return to the desk I'd been instructed to sit at. He stared at me for a few moments and I could feel his gaze, my skin crawling with the feeling of being under such close inspection. The door clicked open again and we were joined by a man with gray hair and a small smile.
"Jennifer Carter?" he asked, and I stood, nervously, masking my anxiety as well as I could. "You can call me Jenn, sir." Again I avoided eye contact. 'Just want to get through the damn interview. Gen can throw a fit about how I didn't do everything I should've later.' I smiled ever-so-slightly at the thought of my best friend, who currently worked at this very lab, and who had told me all about it and convinced me to apply for the new job. She claimed that it would help me come out of my shell a bit, and might help my science skills and courage to pursue my carreer(s) further. It didn't exactly help my case that I couldn't decide what carreer to stick with in the first place, and that every one I tried I was shot down at. My small smile at the thought of my friend faded a little and I tuned into the conversation between Greg Sanders and my interviewer, Gil Grissom. They were discussing a new person, and I didn't realize until at least a minute into my eavesdropping that they were talking about me.
Greg tossed a flirty grin my way and I immediately looked away. Finally, the door clicked open again and I looked up. Several more people entered and I realized I was either way early, way late, or way lost. Grissom began handing out assignments and the grave shift kept throwing me curious glances.
'Perfect. They already think I'm a freak,' I thought dejectedly.
The team left, including Greg, and Grissom began the interview, silently at first, looking over my resume.
"You've got a master's degree in forensic science and a bachelor's in… English?" I nodded.
"I majored in science, but I'm a writer, as well," I said, biting my lip.
He raised an eyebrow at this, "Writer?"
I nodded, and grinned a little, "I'm a novelist in my spare time, and I'm in a band with one of your employees, Gen." He laughed a little, "Yes, she was telling me about that band..."
The interrogation, er, interview carried on rather uneventfully.
"We'll let you know within the week if you're hired or not," Grissom stated, smiling a little as he shook my hand. I nodded, rather relieved I didn't make a complete ass of myself, and left with a smile. I stopped in to talk with Gen just as Sanders arrived with some evidence for Gen to run through CODIS. "I.. er, I've got to run, hun. See you for lunch when you're off shift?" I asked quickly. She gave me a strange look, glanced behind her to see who I was looking at, or rather, trying not to look at, smiled devilishly and said, "Yeah, okay. Say can I bring a few friends?" I bit my lip. I'd rather it just be the two of us, hanging out again like old times, but she probably wanted to get closer to a date, so I nodded and smiled.
"Bye, love," I said smiling, swinging my messenger bag over my shoulder and tucking my hair behind my ear while pulling the rim of my hat down over my eyes.
"See you tonight, and wish me luck for getting that position." I grinned and she smile back, and turned to Greg to ask what he needed tested.
I walked out of the building, hoping beyond hope this job would fall into place for me, after all, I could barely pay my rent and I wasted more money than earning it after publishing my book and our music wasn't exactly raking in the cash. I felt eyes on me and it took all I had not to look around for the source... until he called for me to wait up.
