Title:
Closets
Fandom: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Characters:
Greg Sanders
Prompt: #70. Alone
Word Count:
828
Rating: PG-13 for curse words, again.
Summary:
He wasn't claustrophobic in the least.
Author's Note:
This was... Strange. I couldn't exactly decide where it was going
but... I did like how it was going. I came up with it for alone
but... wasn't sure if it would fit in the long run. Hopefully it
does. XP
He wasn't claustrophobic in the least. However, being stuck in a closet by himself wasn't exactly the highlight of any day. Much less this one. And go figure he'd be stuck in one now. The whole ordeal was... bizarre to say the least. And he wasn't sure exactly how he was going to deal.
The entire place was dark and depressing and damp. Exactly what you'd expect of the hall closet that most people never went into. Except in THIS case, when someone mysteriously locks a certain lab tech into the closet. For what? Who knows. Probably because he played his music too loud this time. But hey, he wouldn't give in so easily. He'd play the tough guy.
"GET ME OUT OF HERE!"
Or maybe not. At least he could get out with his dignity.
"PLEASE HELP! ANYBODY!"
Again, maybe not. But at least nobody could say Greg Sanders was claustrophobic. He just hated to be alone. It had always been unpleasant to be by himself, but he supposed being a lowly lab tech, nobody would much notice. Even if he worked with CSIs. And this PERSON who had locked him into the closet must not have known as well because he was sure as hell going to kick his or her (he was a believer in being equal to both sexes) ass.
He especially hated when there was no NOISE. Which was typically a surprise in the lab because, seriously, this place had loads of noises. From the machines, to the people, to the videos being played in the background and in his case, music being played. It made him go into his own mind and he sure as hell hadn't been in there for a very long time. Well, that was a bit of an exaggeration. He used it all the time. Just not for his own thoughts.
Who wanted to really contemplate life when what you do for a living was death? The only thing he wanted was just not to be found dead doing something embarrassing. Although, he had to admit. There was rarely ever a chance of that. Despite his "big" talk, he was basically a boring guy. If he wasn't at work, he'd be at home. Then at home, he'd be sleeping, eating, drinking, maybe some occasional grunting, just the basics. He wasn't a liar, so to speak. He just heard a lot of things. You'd be surprised at the amount of things a guy hears. Nobody thinks he listens. But he does. He ABSORBS, after all.
Was that a noise at the door? The doorknob? No... he was imagining things. There was no noise at the door, he only hoped it.
He supposed his only desire was to not be found dead at his desk. That would be a hazard for sure. Although, he'd love to know how long it might take for them to discover he was dead there. The person who did it was surely the same person that locked him into the closet. He hoped it wasn't one of the CSIs. Although, if it was, he could just see it being Grissom being the one who did it. After all, the man had something against him after he noticed that Greg had been flirting with Sara a tad too much. However, he didn't care much for the way Grissom treated Sara. Grissom was just much too...
Greg shook his head in disgust. This was what happened when he let his mind wander. He would start contemplating everyone's relation to everyone else. Which is why he had to stop it short. He didn't want to think about these things.
"LET ME OUT OF HERE!"
He screamed and banged against the door before he toggled the doorknob. To his surprise, it turned open and he swung the door. Blinking his eyes, he thought this was some sort of karma. He was killing himself to death by thinking too much. Yes, that was it. He hadn't realized that he had just shut the door behind him and just heard a click. A click didn't mean locked. It just meant that it had latched closed shut. He was just glad that nobody had seen him or heard him.
He turned to look at the open closet and sighed before closing it. He sure as hell didn't want a repeat performance, he thought to himself before settling himself onto his little stool and pressing the play button on his boom box. As strains of music flittered around him, he noticed a CSI leaning against the door frame, smirking.
Smiling at the routine and praying that nothing had been heard, he scuffled around his desk looking for the results. As he handed it to the male in question, Nick made a small comment, striding over to Greg, "Claustrophobic much?"
Greg groaned and dropped his head into his hands, listening to Nick laugh on his way out. Greg Sanders was not claustrophobic, damn it.
