Chapter Two:
a/n: A funny thing sometimes happens to me when I've typed and read a word many times in a day--right now 'elevator' is like the funniest word in the world...
Elevator #2:
"You are a policeman." The dark-haired woman spoke with such assurance, that she surprised him enough to answer her without thinking.
"Yes--is it that obvious?" Brass had forgotten his discomfort, at the sound of her voice. It was melodious, he thought, and it was a testament to just how much she had affected him that he didn't even make fun of himself for using the term 'melodious.'
"You hold yourself like one," she answered.
"I see." He decided that he really wanted her to elaborate, and asked her to. "How is that?" She smiled, and he once again felt recognition. Something inside him hoped that he had not met her through his job, but considering the extent of his 'social life,' there wasn't much hope of that. Brass allowed himself to watch her as she answered him.
"With wearied confidence."
"That sounds about right," he laughed weakly.
Elevator #4:
It was just as well that the elevator car had stopped moving, Catherine thought to herself, because the last thing she needed was two manly wrecks. Warrick was apologizing up and down for having nearly knocked her flat, and his struggles to remove himself from her support were failing due to the grimaces of pain he made with each attempt.
"Warrick, man--stay still!" Nick helped Catherine maneuver him up against the wall of the small room, looking worried all the while.
"I'm fine, really!" the tall man protested.
"Oh?" Catherine said with a big grin. "So you were what? Trying to jump me with Nick in the room? Not a smart move," she teased.
Warrick blushed so red that it was evident even through his chocolate brown skin, and it only got worse.
"Yeah, if you were gonna make a move, you should have told me!" Nick laughed.
"I-I..." Warrick just gave up.
"Ok, let me take a look at this," Catherine said, suddenly all business. She lifted Warrick's shirt to discover a nasty looking bruise already beginning to form on his back. "It's bruising already, but I think you'll survive," she said reassuringly.
"The same might not be said of the emergency phone," Nick groaned. The impact had crushed the receiver back into the panel, and when he'd lifted it to his ear, there was no dial tone.
Elevator #1:
The silence in the small space was palpable. Completely oblivious to Hodges' presence, Sara and Grissom remained as they had been before the free fall had ended. He seemed unable to move, and she didn't want to. 'Just a few seconds longer,' she thought to herself. 'Just to savor the moment.' It was indeed a moment to savor--she was clutching his shirt collar, her face buried in his neck, his arms encircling her in his protection.
"Shall I leave you two alone?" The dry, sarcastic voice of the trace lab tech echoed in the tiny compartment. "Oh wait, I can't."
Grissom wanted to punch him.
Sara wanted to, also.
Somehow, they managed to restrain the urge.
Grissom stepped back, trying to hold back his desire to look at her face, and succeeding. Sara released her death grip on his shirt, and busied herself with smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from her clothing. She managed to avoid looking at Grissom's face, and looked at Hodges' instead. He was smirking at her, a knowing look in his eyes.
"Sarcasm is the last defense of the weak minded, did you know that?" She said. Sara knew it was petty, but she had no greater desire at this point than to wipe that nasty grin off of his face. Well... almost no greater desire.
Elevator #2:
Brass studied the woman surreptitiously. There wasn't anything remarkable about her clothing--just a pair of tight-fitting jeans and a flattering shirt--but there was something remarkable about the way she carried herself. If he'd believed in past lives, something he joked about sometimes, he would have said she was a queen in one of hers.
"Do I pass?"
She must have noticed his inspection. Jim groaned inwardly--the last thing he wanted to do was give her the impression that he was some lewd stranger...
"You don't have to feel uncomfortable, you know." She walked over to stand in front of him, her long ponytail swaying with the graceful movement. "I'm used to it," she said, looking into his eyes. There was no way Brass could hold that direct gaze, and he dropped his gaze.
"Used to what," he said in a low voice, knowing what her answer would be. "I'm used to freaks like you checking me out," he expected to hear.
"I'm used to being noticed," she said, surprising him.
"You're very... noticeable," he said, and made a face. 'What was THAT?' he asked himself. He risked a look at her face, and saw that, instead of being offended, she'd simply raised an eyebrow at his comment. "You're beautiful, I meant to say," he managed. What planet was he on that he actually had the courage to come right out and say that? The policeman wasn't sure, but he liked it, anyway.
Elevator #4:
Catherine looked around to take stock of the situation. Warrick seemed fine, despite the ugly purple bruise forming on his back, but Nick--Nick seemed to be right on the knife edge of freaking out. She wondered if he could possibly be claustrophobic.
Nick supposed it could be worse. After all, his friend was hurt, the phone line for emergencies (and he was certain that this state of affairs would count as one) was out, he was on the verge of hyperventilating--but at least there was no elevator music.
Warrick was just thankful that he'd not hurt Catherine when the elevator had jerked to a stop. The thought reminded him that he was just thankful that the elevator stopped at all. His back hurt pretty badly, but he supposed that it would pass--and there were worse people to be stuck in an elevator with.
Elevator #1:
"My, my--somebody's feeling catty today," Hodges observed, stepping up his nasty grin a tad. Sara could have gleefully shoved him out the elevator door, if only she could be certain it would open out on empty space.
"Did it ever occur to you, Hodges," Grissom was saying, "that it might be prudent to be more polite, given the circumstances? We have no idea how long we'll be stuck here, after all." He absolutely hated to pander to the brown-nosed attitude the other man had regarding him, but he also didn't want to be trapped in there with his two companions at each other's throats. Hodges opened his mouth as if to say something, and at that moment, the elevator creaked slightly. He shut his mouth immediately, taking the noise as a sign that talking back to the boss would be a bad idea.
Elevator #4:
"Well, that's just great." Nick's tone implied that 'great' was exactly the opposite of his opinion of their predicament. He slumped to a heap on the floor, his long legs splaying out in front of him. "No emergency phone--no way to find out what's going on..." His voice got steadily higher as he recapped their problems unnecessarily to his co-workers. Catherine was sympathetic and all, but she had had about enough of his nervous chatter.
"Nick--look," she began, about to give him a severe dressing-down for annoying her, but something made her stop. She looked at him, really looked into his eyes, and saw abject terror. He was truly frightened out of his mind. Catherine scooted over to him on the floor and took his hand.
"Nicky, we'll be ok--you know that, right?" For a moment, he didn't acknowledge her question, and she could see that he was fighting his emotions. Finally he turned his head away from her, and whispered something.
"No, I don't."
Elevator #2:
Before the lovely woman in front of him had a chance to slap him for his audacity, the elevator car they were riding in lurched to a stop, and on instinct he reached out to steady her. His hand slipped on the silky surface of her blouse, and when the car slipped into free fall a moment later, the tenuous grasp turned into a full fledged embrace, albeit by accident. Strangely, she seemed to not fear the impending doom of being crushed to pieces upon reaching the basement, and her serenity calmed him of any fear he might have had.
They seemed to fall forever, when in reality it couldn't have been more than a minute in length. Time seemed to have slowed, giving him a chance to absorb fully all the input his senses were sending him. The soft brush of her ponytail on his face, her breath on his neck, the sexy silk fabric of her shirt. He could barely breathe for fear that it was all a dream--a crazy imagining in the last minutes of his life.
He was wrong, though.
The elevator stopped again, with a sickening halt that caused his center of gravity to shift off kilter. They stumbled together for a second, and ended up in the corner of the elevator, the mysterious dark haired woman neatly pinning him there with one hand on either side of his body.
"I must be dreaming," Jim Brass said, rolling his eyes heavenward.
TBC...
