Disclaimer: CSI belongs to Jerry Bruckheimer and CBS...
You Put The Lime In The Coconut
By Manda
She stripped off the sweat-drenched G-string with ease, slinging the delicate violet garment across the room and into a closely woven straw basket, it being the only thing of natural beauty in the smoky back room. Dream Dolls may have improved its clientele over time, but as Catherine Willows sat gingerly in a folding chair, swiping runny mascara and sparkling face powder from her cheeks, she realized that the chances of the back area being improved...were close to nil, in her lifetime.
It was easy enough to tune out the noise reverberating from the speakers out front, once she'd safely tucked herself away in the dressing room. The DJ possessed a fondness for loud rap and raunchy female performers, so night after night provided her with a beat to tap her foot to, and a rhythm to caress the pole to. If only Ty would do something to provide a little warmth...the lights onstage were weak with overuse, and with only a G-string for company, even the most seasoned of his dancers would complain from time to time. It was in the cards.
"Catherine!" The deep, raunchy voice of Nita Nibblins, one of the few others employed, rang out through the rear hallway, as the buxom brunette leaned around the unpainted oak doorframe and stared pointedly at Catherine. "Get decent, kiddo- there's a man here to see you."
"Is it Eddie?" Catherine had already begun to pull a terrycloth robe over her unclothed form, clenching the waist tightly, well-manicured fingers executing a tight knot within the belt. "Nita, tell him I'll-"
"It's not Eddie. Some fellow...says he's a criminalist...whatever the hell that is. Looks like you could be serious with this one." Tossing off a sly wink, the older dancer vanished, and Catherine tucked her feet into comfortable pink slippers before wandering out into the hallway, and toward Ty's private office, where the majority of important visitors usually waited. The proprietor himself was just exiting the close quarters, giving Cath a nonchalant wave as he made his way through a thick, black curtain separating the house from the back.
The office of Ty Kapelos wasn't necessarily any better than the dressing room, and certainly no better furnished. Wood-paneled walls were home to scattered posters sporting naked women and powerful men in compromising positions. A man sat alone in one of Kapelos' uncomfortable guest chairs, clothed in coal-grey, button down shirt, left hand tapping patiently upon his knee, right hand occupied in holding a thin, manila envelope within its grasp. His eyes were as blue as the G-String she had worn last night, the memory of the sparkling, sweat-glistening garment fresh in her mind. She'd picked it off a discount rack at Macy's, stuffing it into her jeans and wandering out the service entrance before anyone was the wiser...and Ty hadn't noticed. Hadn't noticed, hadn't cared...so long as his 'best dancer' was properly attired, and in something that flattered her.
This man didn't look like he'd be flattered by the G-String, nor the type of attention Catherine was accustomed to bestowing upon visiting males. And for once, she was grateful for the chance to shed that part of her persona.
"Hey, there." She forced the remainder of Montana accent from her voice, making sure to keep the tones as cool and professional as they were during any job interview she'd ever attended...before the one at Dream Dolls. "What can I do for you?"
"Gil Grissom. I'm with the Las Vegas Crime Lab." Her heart skipped a beat as he offered a hand, and she took it, eyebrows raised as his eyes glanced over her robed figure. "You're Catherine Willows?"
"That's right. What can I do for you, Mr. Grissom? You don't look like you're here for a private showing." Her comment caused a gentle blush, the color of a Nevada sunset, to settle upon Gil Grissom's boyish features, and she chuckled softly as he turned his head away from her momentarily. "What does the Las Vegas Crime Lab want with me?"
"Professor Burgen at UNLV sent me your transcript....he mentioned that you were interested in forensic science, and you've almost completed your degree." The folder was opened, papers extracted, and Grissom cleared his throat loudly. "Top of your class...99.7 percent accuracy rate in blood spatter analysis... You've impressed someone, Catherine."
"If we're on a first name basis...mind if I call you Gil?" She pulled the chair from behind Kapelos' thin-framed metal desk, studying it momentarily before choosing to sit tentatively on the edge of the desk. She waved her right hand in a gesture to what was featured upon the walls, nose turning upward as she regarded them. "God knows what Ty does while he's in here, looking at these...things. I could test his chair for DNA for months, and never find a thing worth using."
"Somehow, I don't doubt that." Several other papers were withdrawn, and Grissom offered them to her, sliding closer to the edge of his chair in order to reach her hand from across the space between them. "Our number is on there...as well as an application and a scheduled interview. Jim Brass will be the one you'll talk to when you get there."
"What about you, Mr. Grissom? If you're coming in to recruit new talents...pardon the pun...aren't you going to be able to throw your weight around? After all...without you, where would the Las Vegas Crime Lab be, at the moment? Other than in their status as the number two crime lab in the country, of course." She allowed herself a sly smile at his apparent surprise; obviously, he hadn't expected her to be aware of such a statistic.
"The lab's backed up this week...double homicide in Henderson, two murders on the strip. Dead tourist...viciously raped behind a strip club." The glance he cast in her direction was one of curiosity and amusement, his eyes twinkling with an overabundance of mirth. She'd underestimated him, believing this man to have no humor at all. "If you'll excuse me, Miss Willows..."
"Please. Call me Catherine." She accepted his hand once again, and no sooner had he shaken it then the boyish figure vanished through the doorway, and the heavy black curtain, separating their worlds from one another yet again.
Leaving Catherine with more options than she knew what to do with.
~TBC
