Chapter 4
The next day Nick and Greg got called in early, breathing a sigh of relief when they saw the extensive notice about the prank conspiracy on the bulletin board. It detailed every little detail from the bribes to the mastermind behind it all….Catherine. For the entire swing shift everyone wandered about doing their tasks with shifty eyes in fear of Catherine. They verbally agreed to give Warrick all the space he wanted. Even with the bulletin post though, Nick and Greg were still the center of ribbing and sniping. At least it wasn't so bad now that the conspiracy had been revealed. Bobby especially, had amazed everyone. No one knew he had it in him and suddenly those sympathy gifts turned into peace offerings. He was apparently have the best week of his life. For now, they're plan of action, and only hope, was to disappear.
--oo0oo--
Warrick followed Catherine inside the house silently with a grin. Food, what a glorious thing. He'd tasted Catherine's cooking once a long time ago and ever since the very thought of getting to have her cooking again made him drool. She let him in the house before closing the door and locking it. As she turned back she blushed.
"Sorry about the mess, things have been kind of busy."
"Nah, it's okay Cath, it makes it cozy."
"How does a mess make it cozy?"
"Simple, it looks lived in, but not sloppy. If it were perfectly clean I'd be afraid to touch anything or sit on the couch." Catherine laughed.
"That's some interesting reasoning Warrick. I'll have to remember not to clean house before inviting you over next time."
"Oh good, there's a next time. I like it when you invite me over."
"Of course there's a next time. Well, make yourself comfortable, I'll get dinner started." he wandered into the living room while she went to the kitchen. She had a really nice house, even messy he liked her house. It really was a cozy house, but still somewhat dressy too, the perfect combination. He walked about, looking at pictures of her and Lindsey on the mantel. He noticed there weren't any of Eddie in sight. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised, but he was anyways. He figured she would leave them up for Lindsey's sake, but he certainly wasn't going to ask about it, that wasn't his place. After a few more minutes he felt awkward just lazing about while Catherine cooked them dinner.
"How can I help?"
"I said I'd make you dinner. What kind of host would I be if I made you help?"
"What kind of guy would I be if I didn't help my lovely host make dinner?" for a second she blushed but quickly recovered, scoffing at him.
"Boy you are stubborn. Fine, you can set the table." he grinned victoriously pulling out the plates.
"So when do you get your new car?"
"Eh, not till the end of the month they say, I have to go to drive school too."
"That's the pits. It wasn't your fault the car went over the cliff." She couldn't help but snort. That sounded funny every time she said it. In all her life she'd never expected to be able to say that in all seriousness.
"So what wonderful meal are you making me tonight?"
"Spaghetti."
"Mmmmmm…my favorite." Catherine gave a knowing smile.
"Did you hear? Mr. Pimple, gosh what a name….anyways, he was cleared of all charges." Warrick groaned, placing the last glass on the now set table.
"Great, just what I need, Mr. Pimple as an admirer."
"Maybe we could hook him up with Greg or Nick?"
"Or both, that ought to keep those two busy with something besides sniping me." they both sat, scooping out copious amounts of food onto their plates and began eating.
"Although it would be a little mean, and I only saw him for five minutes out from under the 'silence or death' threat." Warrick grinned taking another big bite.
"That wasn't one of my best days."
"No, I dare say it wasn't, but hey, everyone gets to have one of those on occasion. The root beer float helped I hope."
"Yeah, it was a life saver. How did you know that was my favorite treat anyways?" she smiled mischievously and shoveled a forkful of spaghetti into her mouth. He huffed and took another bite as well, with a sip of soda.
"So how's the spaghetti?"
"It's delicious. Better than my grandmother's but don't tell her I said that, even today she'd still tan my hide for speaking such blasphemy." they both laughed.
"Sounds like I should have a long talk with her, it would certainly be an interesting conversation."
"Yeah, she made me pick out my own switch and lord give me strength if I picked one that wasn't to her satisfaction." she grinned at him.
"Well she raised you right. You turned out to be a fine, handsome man." Warrick blushed a little.
"Thanks Cath, I'm glad you think so." he said clearing his throat loudly.
"Well I suppose we should head out, I don't think Grissom would be happy if we were late."
"True, you go get ready and I'll clear the table."
"Warrick, I can't let you do that, you already helped me make dinner."
"Invite me back tomorrow night and I'll forgive you now go get ready." Warrick shooed her out of the room quickly.
"Fine, be the perfect gentlemen."
"I will, you better get used to it." she smirked and darted out of the room.
--oo0oo-- Some Time Later
"Leave it to us to get the goriest decomp in Las Vegas right after spaghetti." Warrick grumbled.
"You're not going to lose your spaghetti are you?" Catherine asked a little worried. "Cause if you are, do it somewhere else, this is a crime scene."
"Such sympathy for the tender stomach!" Warrick feigned hurt dramatically. Catherine rolled her eyes. They continued to process the scene with an oddly relaxed efficiency. Normally a crime like this got him tense and in a foul mood, but for some reason it didn't this time. Yeah he was disgusted that a person could do this to another person but it didn't ruin his night. He kept thinking about his next dinner invite. It kept his mind on happier things, but didn't distract him so much that he couldn't do his job. It was just about to rain as they were packing up the bagged evidence.
"Just in time, aren't we lucky." Catherine chimed, climbing into the SUV as the first drops fell.
"It's cause we started the night off right."
"We should do that every night."
"Yes, we should." There was something in his tone that she didn't recognize and for some reason found herself blushing, but only just. When they got back to the lab she basked in how everyone parted way for her and practically bowed down and kissed her toes in fear of her revenge conspiracies. Nick and Greg especially were bowing down to her, and would be kissing her toes if she let them, as they brought peace offerings out of fear. The days went by quickly and cheerfully in this routine of basking in their fear and enjoying a dinner before work.
It didn't take long before Warrick realized he was almost dreading getting his new SUV, but he kept that thought to himself. After a week of her serving him dinners, he decided he should return the favor. Except he decided to step things up a little.
"Warrick, that place is expensive, I can't let you take me there!" Catherine objected.
"Why not? It's a nice restaurant that I would like to take you to. And no it's not too expensive." Warrick folded his arms across his chest stubbornly.
"Yeah and what about our clothing? We can't possibly wear our work clothes there, that's a formal restaurant." She countered deftly.
"So I pack my work clothes and after dinner we zip back to your house, I'll change in the bathroom and we're all set!" Catherine scowled. He had an answer for everything.
"Alright, I've run out of arguments. I'll pick you up at eight?'
"Perfect, I already made reservations for eight thirty." Cath rolled her eyes and got back to work, extremely eager for it to be the next evening.
--oo0oo--
The man paced the room hurriedly, holding the crook of his bent left arm, both hands in a tight fist. Beads of sweat poured down his shaking frame thickly, his largely dilated eyes flitting about the room. He tightened his grip on his arm, his fingernails piercing the skin drawing blood but he didn't care, it was a release. Where was he? He was supposed to be here by now! Something went wrong! He growled and squeezed his fists tighter, the slits in his arm deepening and fresh ones into his palm, giving him little relief. His head pounded unmercifully, the room spinning slightly as the wave of nausea hit him. He bolted to the corner of the room and vomited what little he'd eaten that day. He wiped his mouth after the long bout just as he heard a knock at the door. He snapped it open barely taking a second to see whom it was.
"Where have you been! Get in here!" he snarled, latching onto his right arm this time, quickly opening fresh wounds as he squeezed it for relief. The newcomer was skinnier than a stick, black greasy hair falling around his face in slick locks, his small, pinched eyes sliding around in their sockets like lifeless marbles. He was about four inches or so shorter than his partner and referred to as Shorty by him.
"I was as quick as I could be, deal with it! You're a mess Bean." he snapped back slamming the door shut and replacing the chain.
"Yeah yeah, how much did you get? Come on don't hold out on me! How much did you get? C'mon show me show me!" he snatched the duffel back from the man and tossed it onto the bed. His partner shoved passed him unzipping the bag while the man he'd shoved went to scrubbing and itching his arms desperately as his skin crawled painfully.
"$25,000 now, another $25,000 after it's delivered." The taller man's face lit up for a total of three seconds then dropped nearly to the floor.
"$50,000.…$50,000! That's not nearly enough! Why couldn't you get more! It's not enough!" he shouted in a panic. They were doomed.
"I know! Don't you think I know that! If you hadn't botched the job!" Bean snarled at Shorty enraged.
"I BOTCHED! I BOTCHED! I CAN'T HELP POLICE RAIDS! I BARELY GOT OUT OF THAT UNDISCOVERED!"
"Yeah, you saved your skin for a few days! We're still dead for your incompetence! If you had at least tried to save some of the shipment we wouldn't be dead!" Bean growled, whipping around to pace the room, clawing at both arms now as if to tear his skin from his body. Almost as if he didn't fit his own skin.
"I did my BEST! We'll just have to get another! A really valuable one!"
"I hope you have some in mind, we'll probably need several."
"One at least, others shouldn't be too hard to get if it isn't enough." Bean doubled over with a groan, his head pounding, skin burning, and the room spinning. He felt like he was suffocating the air was so thin.
"You blow through your stash already! Geez you really are a mess. That stash was supposed to last you a month! It's barely been two weeks!" Shorty grumbled angrily. The drugs coursing through his veins were making him snappy under the stress of impending death.
"Please…you gotta…need it….need it bad…" Bean panted against the sensation of inability to breathe.
"Fine, but only until this mess is cleaned up, then you get your own fixes." he threw a filled syringe at Bean along with a rubber tourniquet, watching with amusement at he struggled to tie it with his severely trembling hands. This was probably the longest period between fixes he'd spent since the divorce and it showed. He whimpered in frustration barely able to hold the tourniquet around his arm let alone tie it. He needed it so bad and yet he'd gone for so long between, he couldn't do it. Irritated by the pathetic whimpers Shorty gave up and tied the band for Bean grateful that he was capable of handling the syringe on his own, though just barely. His body sagged heavily against the bed, his eyes drooped, his pupils went every direction, and he breathed deep and slow letting himself be consumed by sweet release.
A/N: Well? What'd ya think?If you've got me on the favorite story or story alert pleeeease! Review this for me! Then I can actually get reviews!
