A/N – Okay… I hope you like it.
Disclaimer – CSI is owned by CBS/Paramount. I'm just borrowing the characters.
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He didn't know how long they'd been in that position, her arms wrapped tightly around him, knee to knee on the floor with his arms laying limply around her shoulders.
"I'm so tired," he whispered into her neck.
Gradually standing, still wrapped around one another, Wendy gradually pulled away, slowly running her hand down his arm to grasp his hand. Leading him to his bedroom, she pulled down the covers as he slumped on the corner of the bed. Helping him remove his shoes, she guided him under the covers and sat as his eyes closed.
"I'm sorry," he murmured. His words slurring, he added, "It's just been too much."
With that, he fell asleep, as Wendy stroked her hand gently over his brow, like she would a child. Feeling tired as well, she made her way to the living room and sat heavily. Her eyes burned and she figured resting them just for a moment would give her the momentum to make the drive home. She hadn't meant to fall asleep.
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He watched her, wanting more than anything to run his hand down her cheek.
She's beautiful, he whispered in thought, and felt the compulsion to move next to her. Sitting on the floor next to the couch, he admired the mass of hair that spread out over the cushion, and the peaceful lips that curved up in a smile as she slept.
Her eyes gradually opening, the curve of her lips became more pronounced as a drowsy smile formed.
"You must really like sleeping here," he chuckled lightly, and watched her brow quirk, the smile still playing gently on her face. Still groggy and waking himself, he hadn't meant to actually say, "You're beautiful when you sleep," but it slipped out anyway.
Wendy's eyes opened wide and she gradually sat up. Stretching her back and neck muscles, she met the flushed and embarrassed face. Before he could retreat into his maze, she said, "Thank you for the compliment."
His face flamed higher when he said, "Thank you for this morning. I didn't realize…" he left off, unable to explain.
She responded, "I'm glad I was here."
Deciding she needed a laugh, and he needed a jolt, she leaned in a little and said, "If you weren't so dumb for a smart guy, you would realize by now that I'll listen and not judge. I want to be your friend."
Feeling bold in the intimate refuge they'd built over the past hours, he smirked back, "If you weren't so dumb for the smartest woman I've ever met, you'd realize by now I want more." Leaning forward, he whispered his lips over hers.
Well, my face is going to spontaneously combust, he decided, rapidly standing, shaking his head. Soberly, David met Wendy's eyes and said, "I apologize. That was inappropriate."
Having successfully pulled away, retreating from the safety of their haven, Hodges slipped back into role, and shook his head again. "It won't happen again."
Holding out a hand, he helped her stand, and then watched her stretch even more. Looking around, Wendy finally asked, "Where are the kids?"
"I pick them up at five thirty," he responded, glancing at the clock. "I've got to head out now to get them."
Feeling slightly ill at ease with his apology, and more than a little flushed at the wisp of a kiss that unnerved her, she settled into her coat and walked with him out the door. Before they parted, Hodges smiled slightly and said, "Davey likes you," and walked away toward the day care before she could respond.
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That night at work, David felt more energetic and capable than he had in a long time. However, the constant distraction of repeatedly looking toward her lair, the DNA lab, kept him off his game. Slightly annoyed by the interruption of his thoughts, but giddy at the memory of the kiss, he found himself simply staring at her as she worked on more than one occasion for the first couple of hours.
Then the self-doubt settled in.
You're an idiot, he huffed in thought. What were you thinking?
Setting down a glass container on his workbench, harder than intended, he let out a harsh laugh, She's right. You really are dumb, David. She offers to be your friend and you blow it.
"Did the beaker do something to offend you?" Catherine casually asked, and David felt mild heat rising up his neck.
Grabbing a report in hopes of covering his current state of nerves, he flipped a switch, went into work mode, and handed the papers to Catherine.
"I have determined that the threads you gave me are from silk."
Tapping on his keyboard, Hodges sent another page to print and continued, "The fineness of the threads got me thinking about an article I read about silk a couple of years ago."
As Catherine's patience began to wane, he smiled proudly, popped up the comparison image and pulled the picture from the printer of the existing thread in question.
Impatiently, she said, "David. An answer would be nice."
Getting into his groove, he smiled and inquired, "What do women wear on their legs with evening gowns and is made of silk?"
Curiously, Catherine replied, "Stockings."
"Precisely," he replied, "and since most hosiery is made of a polymer anymore, due to cost and availability, you're looking for someone who shops at high end lingerie and hosiery stores."
Distractedly, Catherine took the report, and flipped through the pages as she made her way out.
Feeling rather proud and just a bit smug, Hodges sat in his chair and gave into the luxury of a single quick spin of success. Stopping, facing her lab, his wide smile turned to a satisfied grin, and he saw her watching him.
Quickly, Wendy turned away, getting back to her DNA test for Nick's rape case. Pulling the completed report out, she made the comparison, and paged Nick.
Having been in the break room, he quickly responded by showing up in her lab, asking, "You have something?"
"Well, I ran your DNA through CODIS, and I came up with a match," Wendy said, a smile widening on her face. Handing over the report, the smile widened, and she added, "I'd say you have your guy."
As Nick walked out of the DNA lab, Wendy looked around, found nothing waiting to process, and happily made her way to the break room. Feeling a little smug and victorious over having helped determining the perp, she didn't even notice Hodges sitting at the table, lost in thought.
Grabbing her lunch, she swung over to the table, sat down, and found herself face-to-face with David, and immediately tensed.
"Umm… hi," she murmured, focusing on removing her sandwich from the brown bag.
Say something, David frantically thought. Say something intelligent.
"Yeah. Hi," he replied, wincing inwardly, Oh yeah. THAT was intelligent.
Anxiously trying to find a topic, any topic, Wendy blurted, "So you're working on Catherine's case?"
Taking a sip of his soda, Hodges replied, "Yeah. It turned out the fibers came from a silk stocking."
"Not a polymer blend, like nylon?" Wendy asked.
"No, real silk," he replied. Remembering the feeling of success, he let himself really get into detail on how he came up with the information. After relaying his examination, and the subsequent determination that the silk strands came from stocking, he lamented over the fact that he couldn't determine the brand.
Contemplatively, Wendy asked, "Do you know where on the stocking the fibers came from?" and watched him frown.
"No," he replied. The comparison samples he'd obtained for silk stockings had been limited, and had not included the location on the stocking from which it may have been sampled.
"Well, there are pantyhose that cover up to the waist, although finding them in silk can be difficult. There is a greater variety, although still limited, of thigh-highs or stockings," Wendy explained. "Thigh highs or stockings may have a different consistency near the toe or the top of the thigh."
Contemplatively, her brow furrowed, she murmured, "It could be that the stockings have the same silk, just more densely woven at the thigh. I think thigh highs incorporate polymers to provide elasticity. I could be wrong, though. It would be interesting to find out."
"The problem is I don't have a standard reference for this kind of information. My only hope is that Catherine finds the actually hosiery, so I can run a physical comparison," he murmured, lost in thought.
"I'll bet if you started hunting around, you'd be able to find more information," Wendy prompted. "There must be websites that provide specifications on high-end leggings, stockings, or whatever that are made of silk."
Feeling relaxed, David leaned back in his chair in deliberation, as Wendy thoughtfully chewed on her sandwich.
"I saw you working with Nick," he finally stated, allowing the conversation to shift, while he subconsciously mulled his problem.
Smiling, she excitedly nodded her head and swallowed.
"I matched the DNA from his case to someone in CODIS," she enthusiastically replied. Her smile brightening, she added, "Isn't it great when you know your input is going to help out on a case?"
"Yeah," he agreed, quietly, and then threw in the typical response of, "But my information often breaks the cases wide open."
Looking him in the eye, Wendy challenged, "And mine doesn't?"
"I didn't say that," he replied, smirking. "It's just that trace is often the most important evidence collected."
"Really?" Wendy said, recognizing the bait he was laying out. "I identified a rapist today. What did you do?"
When he opened his mouth to retort, Henry walked in with a vague look on his face. Sitting heavily, he muttered, "I'm absolutely slammed today. What about you two?"
"Actually, I'm caught up," Wendy stated.
"Not me," Hodges threw in. "I need to look up some information on high-end hosiery styles." As he stood, he acknowledged Wendy's input into his new research project with a nod. After tossing the remnants of his finished lunch in the trash, he made his way back to Trace. It wasn't until he was about halfway to his destination that he realized he'd just had a pleasant lunch with the DNA tech, without making a complete ass out of himself.
Softly whistling, he popped open a browser on his computer and started searching.
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A/N – I hope you enjoy the chapter. Please leave a review. Thanks.