Chapter Six
Really Short Random Thoughts
Disclaimers et al. See first Chapter.
Prompts from SeattleCSIFan: butterscotch pudding, peppermint tea, cocoa-butter body cream, garden hose, and woodstove.
The substance on the dead body looked suspiciously like butterscotch pudding to the rookie CSI.
When Grissom asked the former lab-rat his opinion on the case, Greg replied, "…just like my Nana Olaf used to make me when I was a kid. The color and consistency are right."
Grissom leaned down a swabbed left-over residue of the substance.
"So, why do you think it was on our victim?" Grissom asked, professionally.
"Well, the victim was eating dinner when he was shot, according to witnesses, maybe his dessert splattered on him when he died."
"Good observation." Grissom conceded.
Greg smiled.
Sara Sidle nervously sat in the café near her apartment, sipping peppermint tea out of a disposable cup.
HE was supposed to meet her there.
HE gave a lecture tonight on a double murder in a garage.
HE was supposed to be boring.
HE had the sexiest blue eyes she'd ever seen.
Gil Grissom stood outside the café in the breezy San Francisco evening, trying to gain enough courage to walk inside.
SHE was in there.
SHE had been an active participant in his lecture.
SHE was very inquisitive.
SHE gave him ideas that had nothing to do with forensics.
Grissom rubbed the cocoa-butter body cream over Sara's expanded belly. Her moans of pleasure as his hands glided over her taunt skin aroused him.
It was so hot in their tent. The humidity was nothing like the heat of the desert.
"You don't think I know what you're thinking?" Sara purred.
He looked lost for a moment, then playfully responded, "What am I thinking?"
"Will it hurt the baby?"
Grissom didn't answer as he continued smoothing the cream over her stomach. He leaned in, kissing her gently on the lips, allowing his hand to roam lower.
If she hadn't been so livid over the fact that he'd assigned her to work the perimeter, again, she would have missed finding the murder weapon.
Sara had sat down on a piece of lawn furniture and stared off at nothing in particular, trying to re-collect her thoughts.
Her gaze flitted over all the objects in the yard: a coiled garden hose, an upturned bicycle, a grill, the table and comfortable chairs. Her eyes went back to the grill.
Something's not right.
She got up, then opened the top, and found a Smith & Wesson .357, missing three rounds of ammunition.
The antique wood-stove sat in the corner of the room.
There were layers of dust in the dilapidated cabin. The two CSI's combed through it searching for any evidence of recent occupation.
"I'm not finding anything, are you?" Grissom's voice echoed a bit in the room.
"Something might be in the stove." Sara wrinkled her nose, as she opened the hinged door , she found the skeletal remains of a small animal.
Grissom looked inside, "Might be a raccoon, or a large pocket mouse."
"It's certainly not what I wanted for dinner."
"We're still on for that, aren't we?"
To be continued...Reviews appreciated...:)