A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, guys! They have helped me a lot! Don't
think of this chapter as a filler...it just felt wrong to leap RIGHT into
the party.
Chapter Two summary: The befuzzled (is that a word?) CSIs try to figure out exactly HOW they are to dress up as each other.
Chapter 2: Pain and Process
Sara paced around her apartment. How...how...how was she going to dress up as her pick? There was no way to pull this off. Unless...
Sara glanced over at her phone. She could call Catherine for help. She pondered this thought for a while. Her and Catherine had never been very close. There had always been some sort of barriar that kept them from becoming good friends. Almost like some sort of rivalry. *Don't be stupid* she told herself, and reached for the receiver.
*************************
"How about this? Does this look like him?" Catherine asked her critical analyzer, who was seated at the foot of Catherine's bed.
The analyzer, who happened to be Catherine's daughter, Lindsey, surveyed her mother like a true professional. "Nah, it looks like something any other guy would wear."
Catherine groaned and plopped down next to her daughter, "You've said that about the last TEN outfits I've tried on!"
Lindsey shrugged, "Well, it's true! You can't show up tomorrow wearing jeans and a t-shirt and expect everyone else to know who you are!"
Catherine's sullen expression brightened, "I could dye my hair..."
A look of horror spread across Lindsey's face, "MOM!" she exclaimed, "I thought I was the one that was supposed to come up with the stupid ideas!"
Catherine laid back, feeling defeated, "Well, then what I am supposed to do?" She looked up towards the heavens, "PLEASE, give me an answer!"
Just then the phone rang. Both heads snapped in its direction.
"Wow," Catherine said, sounding impressed.
"Yeah! How weird!" Lindsey agreed as her mother strode across the room and answered the phone.
"Yeah? Sara?" Pause. "Is...is everything alright?" Pause. "Real-ly? Me too!" Longer pause. "I thought we weren't supposed to share who we were." Pause. "Yeah, you're right, forget that joke. I'll be over in five."
Catherine hung up the phone and headed for her coat and keys. As she headed towards the door, she informed Lindsey on what she was doing, "I'm going over to Sara's. Turns out she needs help, too. Figures Greg would hand out an assignment NO one can do. It's way past your bedtime, missy, so I'd like to see you asleep by the time I get home. Love ya, babe." ********************************* Nick was enjoying a nice late-night game of football. He hadn't even considered starting his costume since he walked in the door.
"Oh, MAN! Come on, Houston!" he yelled at the TV, "If I lose this game, I owe Larry 10 bucks!"
The final seconds ticked down, as Nick's team came up short of victory. A crushed Nick made his way towards his wallet to get out 10 dollars for the next day. As he opened up his billfold, a piece of paper fell out. A certain slip of paper containing the name of his character to play at the party the following evening.
A slight frown crept across his handsome features. *How hard can it be? It's just....man...what DO they wear that makes them stand out? Oh. Oh yeah. Man, this should look interesting on me.*
Nick scanned his closet and found that he did not own any of the required clothes, which kind of made sense. *To WalMart we go!* he thought to himself as he jumped in his car and sped away. ************************************
Warrick was the only one of the two CSIs that knew what they were going to wear right from the get-go. The only problem was actually doing it.
Warrick sat on his bathroom counter, elbows rested on knees, face in hands, having a stare down at the hair dye in front of him. *Do I REALLY want to do this?* he asked himself. He shrugged, *why not?*
He reached for the bottle and carefully began to streak color through his dark hair, praying that the outcome wouldn't be devastating. ********************************* Greg had his costume assembled in 10 minutes, tops. It wasn't that he knew ahead of time who he was going to draw--it was just the simple fact that this person would be very easy to pull off.
He stood in front of the mirror for the 67th time, making sure everything looked in order. The lab tech was pleased with his skill, thinking he looked quite the twin to the person he portrayed.
He smirked, making him look even more like his character, and turned to plan the rest of the party. *********************************
Grissom got home later then the rest, due to the sheer fact that he practically lived at the CSI office. He still hadn't looked at the name on the paper, and even considered not looking at all. Not even going to the party. But then he saw the look of disappointment on Sara's face. The reprimanding glare of Catherine. The hurt look of Greg. The other two wouldn't show as much expression, but they would definitely be put out. He smiled to himself, and allowed himself to go a bit crazy just this once.
Grissom settled into bed, placing the un-opened paper on his nightstand. His plan was to read until he felt drowsy, then read the paper right before he went to sleep so he could literally "dream-up" an idea.
A half hour later, Grissom put the book down and reached for the paper. His hand hovered over the slip, as if it were his ultimate doom. Once he looked at it, he could never go back. He picked it up and unfolded it.
He did a double-take, to make sure he read it right. Of all people, this was the last person he thought he'd get. It almost made sense, but he was SURE with his luck he would have been stuck with...with someone else. *Obviously, Gil, that's not the case.*
With that, he slowly drifted off to sleep. Trusting in his dreams alone to provide him an answer.
Chapter Two summary: The befuzzled (is that a word?) CSIs try to figure out exactly HOW they are to dress up as each other.
Chapter 2: Pain and Process
Sara paced around her apartment. How...how...how was she going to dress up as her pick? There was no way to pull this off. Unless...
Sara glanced over at her phone. She could call Catherine for help. She pondered this thought for a while. Her and Catherine had never been very close. There had always been some sort of barriar that kept them from becoming good friends. Almost like some sort of rivalry. *Don't be stupid* she told herself, and reached for the receiver.
*************************
"How about this? Does this look like him?" Catherine asked her critical analyzer, who was seated at the foot of Catherine's bed.
The analyzer, who happened to be Catherine's daughter, Lindsey, surveyed her mother like a true professional. "Nah, it looks like something any other guy would wear."
Catherine groaned and plopped down next to her daughter, "You've said that about the last TEN outfits I've tried on!"
Lindsey shrugged, "Well, it's true! You can't show up tomorrow wearing jeans and a t-shirt and expect everyone else to know who you are!"
Catherine's sullen expression brightened, "I could dye my hair..."
A look of horror spread across Lindsey's face, "MOM!" she exclaimed, "I thought I was the one that was supposed to come up with the stupid ideas!"
Catherine laid back, feeling defeated, "Well, then what I am supposed to do?" She looked up towards the heavens, "PLEASE, give me an answer!"
Just then the phone rang. Both heads snapped in its direction.
"Wow," Catherine said, sounding impressed.
"Yeah! How weird!" Lindsey agreed as her mother strode across the room and answered the phone.
"Yeah? Sara?" Pause. "Is...is everything alright?" Pause. "Real-ly? Me too!" Longer pause. "I thought we weren't supposed to share who we were." Pause. "Yeah, you're right, forget that joke. I'll be over in five."
Catherine hung up the phone and headed for her coat and keys. As she headed towards the door, she informed Lindsey on what she was doing, "I'm going over to Sara's. Turns out she needs help, too. Figures Greg would hand out an assignment NO one can do. It's way past your bedtime, missy, so I'd like to see you asleep by the time I get home. Love ya, babe." ********************************* Nick was enjoying a nice late-night game of football. He hadn't even considered starting his costume since he walked in the door.
"Oh, MAN! Come on, Houston!" he yelled at the TV, "If I lose this game, I owe Larry 10 bucks!"
The final seconds ticked down, as Nick's team came up short of victory. A crushed Nick made his way towards his wallet to get out 10 dollars for the next day. As he opened up his billfold, a piece of paper fell out. A certain slip of paper containing the name of his character to play at the party the following evening.
A slight frown crept across his handsome features. *How hard can it be? It's just....man...what DO they wear that makes them stand out? Oh. Oh yeah. Man, this should look interesting on me.*
Nick scanned his closet and found that he did not own any of the required clothes, which kind of made sense. *To WalMart we go!* he thought to himself as he jumped in his car and sped away. ************************************
Warrick was the only one of the two CSIs that knew what they were going to wear right from the get-go. The only problem was actually doing it.
Warrick sat on his bathroom counter, elbows rested on knees, face in hands, having a stare down at the hair dye in front of him. *Do I REALLY want to do this?* he asked himself. He shrugged, *why not?*
He reached for the bottle and carefully began to streak color through his dark hair, praying that the outcome wouldn't be devastating. ********************************* Greg had his costume assembled in 10 minutes, tops. It wasn't that he knew ahead of time who he was going to draw--it was just the simple fact that this person would be very easy to pull off.
He stood in front of the mirror for the 67th time, making sure everything looked in order. The lab tech was pleased with his skill, thinking he looked quite the twin to the person he portrayed.
He smirked, making him look even more like his character, and turned to plan the rest of the party. *********************************
Grissom got home later then the rest, due to the sheer fact that he practically lived at the CSI office. He still hadn't looked at the name on the paper, and even considered not looking at all. Not even going to the party. But then he saw the look of disappointment on Sara's face. The reprimanding glare of Catherine. The hurt look of Greg. The other two wouldn't show as much expression, but they would definitely be put out. He smiled to himself, and allowed himself to go a bit crazy just this once.
Grissom settled into bed, placing the un-opened paper on his nightstand. His plan was to read until he felt drowsy, then read the paper right before he went to sleep so he could literally "dream-up" an idea.
A half hour later, Grissom put the book down and reached for the paper. His hand hovered over the slip, as if it were his ultimate doom. Once he looked at it, he could never go back. He picked it up and unfolded it.
He did a double-take, to make sure he read it right. Of all people, this was the last person he thought he'd get. It almost made sense, but he was SURE with his luck he would have been stuck with...with someone else. *Obviously, Gil, that's not the case.*
With that, he slowly drifted off to sleep. Trusting in his dreams alone to provide him an answer.