Title: Dreams and Realities
Author: Hawkeye/Katy
Fandom: CSI
Rating: FRT
Pairing: None
Disclaimer: I own Brigit Nemain. I don't own CSI. Hear that? Me no own. You no sue.
Sitting in the chair in the breakroom, her feet not quite touching the floor, Brigit munched happily on her candy bar, offering both Nick and Warrick a piece and looking quite pleased when they refused. Catherine sauntered into the breakroom, followed almost immediately by Greg. Her eyebrows shot into her hairline as she saw the little girl sitting in her normal chair. Greg blinked, opened his mouth to say something, realized he had no idea what to say and closed it again. Warrick glanced up, saw the two CSI's in the doorway, grinned and gave them a wave. Noticing his co-worker's actions, Nick looked up too, catching sight of the two in the doorway.
"Hey Cath, hey Greggo," he said, before turning to Brigit, "How about you come sit with me, Brigit, that's Catherine's chair."
The girl referred to as Brigit turned to Warrick, seemingly asking permission. The African-American CSI nodded and held out his hand for her empty soda can and candy wrapper, lobbing them into the bin. He smiled at her as she still sat in her chair, swinging her legs impatiently.
"Go on, then. You can sit with Nick if you like, I've gotta look through these reports and stuff anyway," Warrick said, reaching out a hand and tickling her ribs lightly, chuckling as she squealed and squirmed away.
Greg and Catherine's jaws dropped as the little girl happily clambered into Nick's lap, settling herself against his chest. Nick smiled down at her, his eyes softening, until he realized Warrick was smirking at him. He gave his friend and fellow CSI an embarrassed smile and told him to shut up. Still staring at Warrick, and Nick and the little girl, Catherine and Greg moved into the breakroom and sat down. She grinned at the two stunned CSI's and wiggled her fingers in a childish wave.
"I'm Brigit Nemain, what's your name?"
Greg and Catherine blinked at Brigit's lilting Irish tones, looked at each other, then at Nick, who was smiling down at the little Irish girl, then at Warrick, who was reading the assignment slips (careful not to let Brigit see the particulars of each case, he didn't know what she was or how old she really was, but while she was with him, she didn't need to be knowing about things like dead bodies and rapes and home invasions), before answering.
"I'm Greg Sanders; it's nice to meet you, Brigit," the spiky-haired former lab tech answered, smiling gently at her, holding out his hand for her to shake, which she did with a giggle.
"And I'm Catherine Willows. Brigit, that's a very pretty name. It's the name of an Irish goddess…"
As Catherine and Greg were introducing themselves to Brigit, who had made herself a seat on Nick's lap, the Texan shifting automatically to make her as comfortable as possible, Sara walked past the breakroom in a foul mood. Everyone in the breakroom watched her walked past, heading towards Grissom's office, with raised eyebrows, except Brigit, who was humming a little ditty to herself.
"What's up her ass?" Catherine wondered out loud.
"Ass is a bad word," Brigit told her, her voice muffled from where her head was buried into Nick's shoulder.
Warrick and Nick both laughed at the familiar statement. Catherine looked suitably abashed at being told off by a little girl, and Greg snickered. Settling his chin on the top of Brigit's head as though he'd known her all her life, instead of just a few minutes, Nick looked over at Warrick.
"Grissom not here?"
"Nah, he's at a conference for the next four days," Warrick said, raising his eyebrow at the giggling Brigit.
"You in charge, then?"
"Unfortunately. But, it means I won't have to get one of the techs to mind Brigit while I'm at a scene."
Sara chose this moment to stalk into the breakroom. Not even bothering to say hello to her fellow CSI's, she stormed over to the coffee machine, pouring herself a cup. She turned around and went to sit at the table, catching sight of Warrick about to hand out the assignment slips, normally Grissom's task.
"Where's Grissom?" she snapped.
"At a conference," Warrick answered patiently.
"Which one? Why wasn't I told?"
"I don't know which one, I didn't ask. I don't know why you weren't told, why don't you ask Grissom when he comes back?" Warrick said, his irritation starting to show.
"So who's in charge, then?" Sara asked, knowing the answer already.
"Me."
"But Nick has seniority…"
"I know. But for some obscure Grissom-esque reason, Grissom asked me," Warrick replied, trying not snap, his Grams had taught him to always be polite to women.
"That's bullsh…"
"Sara, that's enough," Warrick said, holding out her assignment slip, his normally easy-going voice tight with anger, "One. Grissom isn't here and won't be for the next four days, I am in charge. Two. Do not use language like that in front of any child, but in particular, not a child in my care. And three. You have a solo case, an armed robbery with a DB in Loughlin."
Sara snatched the assignment slip out of Warrick's outstretched hand, glancing over at what she decided was the source of her problems. Brigit. She sent an icy glare towards the little girl, that made Nick's eyes widen and his arms tighten around the little girl on his lap with its intensity and made Brigit's head rear back, before the little Irish girl narrowed her eyes, disentangling her hands from where she'd been giving Nick a hug and turning to face the brunette valley girl.
"No, Brigit," Warrick said warningly, ignoring Sara for the moment.
"No, what?" Brigit replied, still glaring at Sara.
"Whatever it is you're going to do, don't do it."
"Why?"
"Because," Warrick said, leaning in to whisper in Brigit's ear so only she and Nick could hear him, "making my phone ring, appearing in my dreams and dancing on my refrigerator are all fine and dandy when your in my house, but I don't think they're going to go down that well here in the lab."
The African-American CSI sat back, giving the little girl he'd come to refer to as his a significant look, while the Texan CSI whose lap she was sitting on looked at Warrick like he was from another planet.
Brigit frowned, "You think they'd mind?"
Warrick raised an eyebrow, "More than somewhat."
Brigit sighed and resolutely turned her back on Sara, effectively ending the conversation. Sara stared from the tiny girl, to Warrick, to Nick, to Cath, to Greg and then back to Warrick, before snatching up her kit and walking out of the breakroom, trying to hold onto what little dignity she had left. Watching her go, the team shook their heads before turning back to receive their respective assignment slips. Warrick winced, looking to Cath, the team's unofficial mother, for help.
"She asked for that, Rick, you didn't do anything wrong."
Warrick sighed, scratching his head and getting his thoughts in order. Brigit slid off Nick's lap, walking around to stand by Warrick, tugging gently on his shirtsleeve. Without thinking about, he picked her up and set her on his hip, causing everyone in the room to smirk. He gave them all an embarrassed smile.
"Oh shut up. Cath, your going solo. North Las Vegas. Brass will meet you outside," Warrick didn't go into any more detail, glancing quickly down at Brigit while handing over the assignment slip, "And Nicky and Greggo, you guys are at the Tangiers. You'll have to wait for Archie, he'll be tagging along to get the video footage to bring back to the lab so you can keep processing."
Cath grinned and took off, waving goodbye to Brigit, who waved cheerfully back from her position on Warrick's hip. Nick sat back down at the table. Warrick followed, shifting Brigit so she was curled up on his lap. Greg made coffee for all three CSI's before ducking out of the breakroom and returning with another soda for the tiny Irish girl, whose eyes lit up and whose face split into a wide grin. Warrick and Nick both gave him a look, and it was Greg's turn to flash an embarrassed smile at his teammates. It wasn't long before Greg started fidgeting and it took him less than 5 minutes to ask the inevitable question.
"Warrick I think I speak for everyone here when I say, why the fu… dgepickle do you have a little Irish girl?"