Rating: PG
Summary: The team at Tuscadero High School, Nevada...
Spoilers: Nada. Pre-Series junk.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: Here we go! Chapter Two! Kinda boring, but the upshot is: Nick meets Warrick (fifteen and a sophomore at the school), and we discover that Gil is friends with Catherine – they are both sophomores, too.
***
Sitting in the lunch hall, Warrick Brown surveyed the new intake of students. He was just wondering if there were any of them – any at all – who weren't total nerds, when one appeared beside him, clutching a dinner tray. "Hey man, can I sit there?" the freshman asked, and Warrick made a noise of consent.
The kid before him was tall, but not lanky, with a dark buzz cut and shadowy eyes. There was a strong Texan lilt in his speech. "You from down south?" Warrick asked, picking at his food. The kid nodded.
"Nick Stokes." he offered Warrick his hand.
"Brown. Warrick Brown." he shook Nick's hand, and they were soon embroiled in a lengthy discussion about football. For some reason, they just clicked. With Warrick's bad track record around other people, and Nick's sometimes overbearing nature, neither had many platonic attachments, making it easy for them to become instant friends.
Catherine watched from the other end of the canteen, glad that the quite teenager had made a friend. She watched him from afar, sometimes wondering how such a beautiful boy could be so alone. She had to admit, she sometimes wondered if she should talk to him, and part of her wanted to be more involved with him, yet she knew she couldn't. Each time she tried to make contact with him, he undid it all again by disappearing alone. Frustrating.
She watched a bit more, and to her dismay, the kid at Warrick's table was Nick Stokes! Catherine had once lived on the same road as him, just after he moved from Texas. 'Fortune must've smiled.' she thought, 'He's my way in – if he can maintain a friendship with Warrick, that is.'
As Lindsay returned from the lunch que the her tray, Gil arrived with his. "Hello Catherine." he greeted her, warmly.
"Gil How's it going?" she asked, as Lindsay placed her lunch on the table, smiling briefly at Grissom, as he was regularly called by his classmates. "Alright. Got biology with Higgins this semester?" he asked, pulling out his timetable. Catherine replied that she had, and Lindsay piped up. "What about physics?"
"Mr Long on Wednesdays." he replied, and the other two looked disappointed. "With her." he pointed at the girl he'd directed to English earlier on.
Both the girls at the table turned in their seats to see her. "Where?" Catherine asked, and Grissom directed her at the lunch line. 'What? A freshman?' She wondered, without bothering to voice her dismay.
***
At the end of the day, Catherine and Lindsay headed straight for their favourite ice cream parlour to do their homework, and Gil went home to his mother.
On the way, he wondered how the science geek was doing. Of course, he knew how duplicitous he was being in calling someone *else* that. Anyway, she had some aura of confidence about her, despite her obvious lack of social skills. 'Again, Gil displays his hypocritical side.' he thought, dryly.
Letting himself into the house, he searched around for his mother – she was deaf; to call for her was no good. He found her reading in the living room, and sat down opposite her. She looked up, closed the book, and made a series of complex hand motions. Sign language. "How was your day?" she asked, her hands gliding over well-practiced moves. Gil replied in kind, and told her that he had to write an essay.
His room was small, but well-ordered: a wardrobe stood against one wall, a bed against the opposite, with a dark-coloured throw over it. A window illuminated the room, pouring sunshine onto Gil's desk. Failing that, a set of black lights dotted over the place provided night time light. The walls were painted deep blue, and a cork board beside the door was littered with photos of Gil and his mother, and, oddly, bugs. Entering it now, he sat down at the desk and began work.
Unfortunately, his mind was centred on that girl from school, and he was soon unable to concentrate on his work. He had to talk to her again.
Summary: The team at Tuscadero High School, Nevada...
Spoilers: Nada. Pre-Series junk.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: Here we go! Chapter Two! Kinda boring, but the upshot is: Nick meets Warrick (fifteen and a sophomore at the school), and we discover that Gil is friends with Catherine – they are both sophomores, too.
***
Sitting in the lunch hall, Warrick Brown surveyed the new intake of students. He was just wondering if there were any of them – any at all – who weren't total nerds, when one appeared beside him, clutching a dinner tray. "Hey man, can I sit there?" the freshman asked, and Warrick made a noise of consent.
The kid before him was tall, but not lanky, with a dark buzz cut and shadowy eyes. There was a strong Texan lilt in his speech. "You from down south?" Warrick asked, picking at his food. The kid nodded.
"Nick Stokes." he offered Warrick his hand.
"Brown. Warrick Brown." he shook Nick's hand, and they were soon embroiled in a lengthy discussion about football. For some reason, they just clicked. With Warrick's bad track record around other people, and Nick's sometimes overbearing nature, neither had many platonic attachments, making it easy for them to become instant friends.
Catherine watched from the other end of the canteen, glad that the quite teenager had made a friend. She watched him from afar, sometimes wondering how such a beautiful boy could be so alone. She had to admit, she sometimes wondered if she should talk to him, and part of her wanted to be more involved with him, yet she knew she couldn't. Each time she tried to make contact with him, he undid it all again by disappearing alone. Frustrating.
She watched a bit more, and to her dismay, the kid at Warrick's table was Nick Stokes! Catherine had once lived on the same road as him, just after he moved from Texas. 'Fortune must've smiled.' she thought, 'He's my way in – if he can maintain a friendship with Warrick, that is.'
As Lindsay returned from the lunch que the her tray, Gil arrived with his. "Hello Catherine." he greeted her, warmly.
"Gil How's it going?" she asked, as Lindsay placed her lunch on the table, smiling briefly at Grissom, as he was regularly called by his classmates. "Alright. Got biology with Higgins this semester?" he asked, pulling out his timetable. Catherine replied that she had, and Lindsay piped up. "What about physics?"
"Mr Long on Wednesdays." he replied, and the other two looked disappointed. "With her." he pointed at the girl he'd directed to English earlier on.
Both the girls at the table turned in their seats to see her. "Where?" Catherine asked, and Grissom directed her at the lunch line. 'What? A freshman?' She wondered, without bothering to voice her dismay.
***
At the end of the day, Catherine and Lindsay headed straight for their favourite ice cream parlour to do their homework, and Gil went home to his mother.
On the way, he wondered how the science geek was doing. Of course, he knew how duplicitous he was being in calling someone *else* that. Anyway, she had some aura of confidence about her, despite her obvious lack of social skills. 'Again, Gil displays his hypocritical side.' he thought, dryly.
Letting himself into the house, he searched around for his mother – she was deaf; to call for her was no good. He found her reading in the living room, and sat down opposite her. She looked up, closed the book, and made a series of complex hand motions. Sign language. "How was your day?" she asked, her hands gliding over well-practiced moves. Gil replied in kind, and told her that he had to write an essay.
His room was small, but well-ordered: a wardrobe stood against one wall, a bed against the opposite, with a dark-coloured throw over it. A window illuminated the room, pouring sunshine onto Gil's desk. Failing that, a set of black lights dotted over the place provided night time light. The walls were painted deep blue, and a cork board beside the door was littered with photos of Gil and his mother, and, oddly, bugs. Entering it now, he sat down at the desk and began work.
Unfortunately, his mind was centred on that girl from school, and he was soon unable to concentrate on his work. He had to talk to her again.