A/N: This story was co-written with DemonicHime. You may notice two different writing styles. Please review!
Summary: One Juvenile, one Senior and a boring double shift. What could possibly happen?
Disclaimers: We don't own CSI. If we did, you'd know it.
Chapter 1 – The King of the Lab
It was a slow night in the lab. Apparently, everyone in Las Vegas decided to give the nightshift CSIs a break from crime and not break the law. Even though there were no cases, they were forced to stay the whole shift. Well, more like two since it was a long weekend and it was their turn to take the double shift.
It was pure bliss, a rare break from their usual hectic nights….for the first hour.
After that hour, well let's just say they started to crack. Sara was staring blankly at the cold case file in front of her, muttering angrily to herself every five minutes then skipping to the next file. Nick and Warrick resorted to betting. From how many peanuts they could stuff into their mouths, to how many they could stuff in Greg's before he turned purple.
Grissom, who was forced by Catherine, to endure all the meetings he missed, the overflowing pile of paperwork he conveniently, forgot about, as well as giving out two months worth of bonus paychecks that were supposed to be passed out six months ago…
Greg, acting (as always) like a six-year-old, slipped into the break room and sat on the couch for all of five seconds, then, before Nick and Warrick could find him to stuff more peanuts down his throat, he hid behind the fridge. It was an interesting feat. He snickered silently as Catherine walked in.
Catherine was bored. She figured she should've taken at least one shift off. She sighed and collapsed on the couch. A noise erupted from under her. She reddened, and rose slowly. Suddenly Greg appeared from nowhere.
"Catherine, really! You should get an air freshener or something!"
Catherine had a suddenly epiphany. She looked under the cushion she had just sat upon. She pulled out a juvenile-looking piece of rubber with the words "Whoopee Cushion" written on it. She raised an eyebrow at him. He shrugged. "What's a bored guy supposed to do around here?"
Catherine just shook her head. "I really don't know Greg, but that's a little mean to throw in the air freshener comment."
Greg grinned. "What do you expect from the Prankster King! That's what they called me back in Winnekta."
Catherine had an idea to brighten up this dismal double.
"Prankster king eh? We'll see if I can't dethrone you by the end of the week."
"Is that a challenge?"
"It most certainly is. Prank-off. By Friday next week, whoever has pulled the most and best pranks is Prankster Royalty."
"Okay. But, you can't tell anyone in the lab what you're doing, unless you're recruiting them. Deal?"
"Deal. You're going down Sanders."
"I think not, Willows."
It was war.
Review please! We'd like to know if we should even consider writing a second chapter.
