More fic.
Title: Games, Board and Otherwise.
Summary: It’s only a game. For now.
Authors: sarcasticsra and amazonqueenkate
Pairing: David Hodges/Conrad Ecklie
Disclaimer: A seventeen-year-old high school junior and a twenty-two-year-old college senior do not own CSI. Trust us. We'd be the first to know.
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: Beta’ed by the wonderful Kelly.
The point, Hodges supposed, was not for it to be true love. It wasn't a fairy tale -- neither of them were damsels in distress -- but it sure as hell was very beneficial for both of them. It was a game, all in all; a game both he and Ecklie were very good at playing.
Hodges had always liked games, though he wasn't one to admit it. He'd been a master at Clue in his younger days, and then moved up in the world to Monopoly. He knew, clichéd though it might be, when to hold them and when to fold them, and his biggest disappointment in Los Angeles was the lack of fellow game-players.
But he found one in Conrad Ecklie, and he liked that.
Neither of them were much liked (the suck up and the asshole -- or was that the other way around?) but that was only a minor detail. Jump back two spaces, the card would read, tauntingly, but really it was only a minor setback in the grand scheme of things.
The game he and Ecklie played was like a balancing act; they kept deeper emotions out of it, while baring all else. The objective? Up the ante, keep it going, find a new move to stun your opponent.
There was an excitement to it, much more than Monopoly, because every roll of the dice was high-stakes. Move too quickly or think too much, and the game was over. Ecklie was an expert at manipulating the pieces in ways to corner his opponents. To lock them away until they waved the white flag. But then, Hodges was an expert at finding ways around that white flag.
They were perfectly matched, that way.
Losing, Hodges thought, was not an option, and that left only winning. But this was the sort of game where there were no winners, not really; not the way Hodges and Ecklie played it. The tempo was set, the game steady, and they would stay here, trapped in a figurative stalemate until someone admitted defeat.
Both men were also stubborn bastards, so that was unlikely to happen any time soon.
There were rules -- all games have rules -- but in this case they were not used to ensure fairness. They were used to trick or to trap; they were used to ensnare. Stop ogling the pretty CSI, Ecklie, sir, Hodges would say mockingly, in a low voice. Then, it's against the rules, you know. Ecklie would glare, at first -- pretense, pretense! a big part of this game -- then allow himself a small half-sneer. Rules apply to both parties, Hodges -- the bastard was right about that -- or do your eyes just check him out of their own accord?
Stranger things have happened. It was always a cop-out, always a slight shrug, always a quirk of an eyebrow. Ecklie would smirk. Indeed, and then it'd be back to polite tenseness and professionalism. At least, until the next day.
The rules should have had "no jealousy" included, but then again, no game was perfect. In fact, most games were fatally flawed, that way.
Theirs was no different. It was give and take -- or, more precisely, take and take back. That was why they played. They needed the aggression, the struggle, the challenge, even, dare he admit it, the purpose. It was what kept them going, for now; it was what kept the game rolling.
If there was any other way to end it, other than one of them admitting total defeat, Hodges didn't know what it was. Because there was and would only ever be one Dissatisfaction - Yearn for more than a game card in the deck, and from the looks of it, it was dangerously close to the top.
-End
Yay, fic. ^^
Summary: It’s only a game. For now.
Authors: sarcasticsra and amazonqueenkate
Pairing: David Hodges/Conrad Ecklie
Disclaimer: A seventeen-year-old high school junior and a twenty-two-year-old college senior do not own CSI. Trust us. We'd be the first to know.
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: Beta’ed by the wonderful Kelly.
The point, Hodges supposed, was not for it to be true love. It wasn't a fairy tale -- neither of them were damsels in distress -- but it sure as hell was very beneficial for both of them. It was a game, all in all; a game both he and Ecklie were very good at playing.
Hodges had always liked games, though he wasn't one to admit it. He'd been a master at Clue in his younger days, and then moved up in the world to Monopoly. He knew, clichéd though it might be, when to hold them and when to fold them, and his biggest disappointment in Los Angeles was the lack of fellow game-players.
But he found one in Conrad Ecklie, and he liked that.
Neither of them were much liked (the suck up and the asshole -- or was that the other way around?) but that was only a minor detail. Jump back two spaces, the card would read, tauntingly, but really it was only a minor setback in the grand scheme of things.
The game he and Ecklie played was like a balancing act; they kept deeper emotions out of it, while baring all else. The objective? Up the ante, keep it going, find a new move to stun your opponent.
There was an excitement to it, much more than Monopoly, because every roll of the dice was high-stakes. Move too quickly or think too much, and the game was over. Ecklie was an expert at manipulating the pieces in ways to corner his opponents. To lock them away until they waved the white flag. But then, Hodges was an expert at finding ways around that white flag.
They were perfectly matched, that way.
Losing, Hodges thought, was not an option, and that left only winning. But this was the sort of game where there were no winners, not really; not the way Hodges and Ecklie played it. The tempo was set, the game steady, and they would stay here, trapped in a figurative stalemate until someone admitted defeat.
Both men were also stubborn bastards, so that was unlikely to happen any time soon.
There were rules -- all games have rules -- but in this case they were not used to ensure fairness. They were used to trick or to trap; they were used to ensnare. Stop ogling the pretty CSI, Ecklie, sir, Hodges would say mockingly, in a low voice. Then, it's against the rules, you know. Ecklie would glare, at first -- pretense, pretense! a big part of this game -- then allow himself a small half-sneer. Rules apply to both parties, Hodges -- the bastard was right about that -- or do your eyes just check him out of their own accord?
Stranger things have happened. It was always a cop-out, always a slight shrug, always a quirk of an eyebrow. Ecklie would smirk. Indeed, and then it'd be back to polite tenseness and professionalism. At least, until the next day.
The rules should have had "no jealousy" included, but then again, no game was perfect. In fact, most games were fatally flawed, that way.
Theirs was no different. It was give and take -- or, more precisely, take and take back. That was why they played. They needed the aggression, the struggle, the challenge, even, dare he admit it, the purpose. It was what kept them going, for now; it was what kept the game rolling.
If there was any other way to end it, other than one of them admitting total defeat, Hodges didn't know what it was. Because there was and would only ever be one Dissatisfaction - Yearn for more than a game card in the deck, and from the looks of it, it was dangerously close to the top.
-End
Yay, fic. ^^