FIC: Negotiation, 1/1, PG
Title: Negotiation
Rating: PG
Summary: Jim is in familiar territory now.
Notes: This follows Mugs, Disappointment and Tension . Don’t say it, because I don’t want to hear it. I swear these two are going to make me frickin’ nuts.
Disclaimer: Zuiker and company own the rights to CSI and its characters. I used to own my creative process, but lately, it’s been taken over by hostile plot bunnies. Roast rabbit, anyone?
~*~*~
“You’re ugly!”
Jim, veteran of a thousand suspect interviews, keeps his smile pleasant as he says, “Yeah. I am. Wanna know why?”
Confounded by his genial agreement, Lindsey stares at him. “Huh?”
“You wanna know why I’m ugly?”
“I --” Seriously confused, Lindsey makes the mistake of looking to her mother for guidance. Jim is pretty sure she sees her mother trying not to laugh -- he heard Catherine’s muffled snort when he answered Lindsey’s initial accusation. “I don’t care!”
He’s careful to keep genuine curiosity in his voice when he asks, “If you don’t care, why’d you mention it?” Jim is in familiar territory now. He’s had this discussion with Ellie a couple of times a year since she turned twelve, and he’s grown to regard it as her way of telling him she still cares enough to hate him.
It’s clear that Lindsey isn’t used to being taken at face value. Ellie still isn’t used to it, and Jim believes it might have something to do with the way women think. They’re always looking under, over and around the words they hear from him, searching for extra meaning. The problem is that unless he’s talking to a suspect, he doesn’t have a hidden agenda. Catherine is only now starting to get it, and he hopes like hell she teaches Lindsey the same thing.
Jim can see that despite herself, Lindsey is curious. He’s a patient man, and he waits for her to decide if she’s going to ask. It doesn’t take long. “Fine. How did you get so butt-ugly?”
She’s upped the stakes by adding to the insult, and it’s all Jim can do not to laugh out loud. He waves Catherine off, pleased that she’s willing to stick up for him, but unwilling to let this conversation with Lindsey end too soon. “See, when I was your age, I was a pretty good-looking kid.”
“Yeah. Right,” she snorts.
“Honest!” He puts his hand over his heart. “I was. Even got pictures to prove it.”
“You do?” She’s no longer ready to kick him, and Jim counts that as a victory. “I don’t believe you.” Maybe a premature victory.
“Hand to God, I do. I’ll bring ‘em next time I come over, and you can laugh at how goofy my hair was.” Jim smiles, inviting Lindsey to share in his amusement. It almost works, but she stops her own smile before it can really get started.
Still, it must have affected her more than she realizes, because when she speaks again, her voice holds genuine interest. “You never told me how you got so ugly.”
“Butt-ugly,” he says, grinning wider at her sudden blush. “I got this way playin’ hockey when I was a kid.”
Lindsey’s face screws up in puzzled concentration. “I don’t understand.”
“Used to stop the puck with my face a lot.” Jim leans back, allows himself to relax a little. His interview with Lindsey is going far better than he’d hoped.
“Didn’t you wear a face mask?”
“Didn’t have one, sweetheart.” The endearment slips in without either of them really noticing. “Anyway, in my neighborhood, a swollen nose and split lip were signs of manhood.”
“That’s stupid,” she scoffs.
“You got that right.”
After studying him for a long moment, she finally asks, “You still that stupid?”
He gives her question the due consideration it deserves and decides she probably doesn’t care about how stupid he was in waiting so long to go after Catherine. “Nah. Nowadays, I always use protection.”
Lindsey doesn’t notice Catherine abruptly leave the room, and that’s good as far as Jim is concerned. He doesn’t really want to explain to Lindsey why her mother burst into laughter just then.
Sizing him up one more time, Lindsey finally gives Jim a grudging look of approval. “Okay. I guess you can date her. But you have to take me along, too.” Jim frowns at that codicil, and Lindsey quickly adds, “Not all the time. But sometimes. Like maybe to that restaurant in the Montecito again?”
Jim smiles at the uncertain hope in Lindsey’s eyes and says, “I think that would be a great idea.”
Rating: PG
Summary: Jim is in familiar territory now.
Notes: This follows Mugs, Disappointment and Tension . Don’t say it, because I don’t want to hear it. I swear these two are going to make me frickin’ nuts.
Disclaimer: Zuiker and company own the rights to CSI and its characters. I used to own my creative process, but lately, it’s been taken over by hostile plot bunnies. Roast rabbit, anyone?
~*~*~
“You’re ugly!”
Jim, veteran of a thousand suspect interviews, keeps his smile pleasant as he says, “Yeah. I am. Wanna know why?”
Confounded by his genial agreement, Lindsey stares at him. “Huh?”
“You wanna know why I’m ugly?”
“I --” Seriously confused, Lindsey makes the mistake of looking to her mother for guidance. Jim is pretty sure she sees her mother trying not to laugh -- he heard Catherine’s muffled snort when he answered Lindsey’s initial accusation. “I don’t care!”
He’s careful to keep genuine curiosity in his voice when he asks, “If you don’t care, why’d you mention it?” Jim is in familiar territory now. He’s had this discussion with Ellie a couple of times a year since she turned twelve, and he’s grown to regard it as her way of telling him she still cares enough to hate him.
It’s clear that Lindsey isn’t used to being taken at face value. Ellie still isn’t used to it, and Jim believes it might have something to do with the way women think. They’re always looking under, over and around the words they hear from him, searching for extra meaning. The problem is that unless he’s talking to a suspect, he doesn’t have a hidden agenda. Catherine is only now starting to get it, and he hopes like hell she teaches Lindsey the same thing.
Jim can see that despite herself, Lindsey is curious. He’s a patient man, and he waits for her to decide if she’s going to ask. It doesn’t take long. “Fine. How did you get so butt-ugly?”
She’s upped the stakes by adding to the insult, and it’s all Jim can do not to laugh out loud. He waves Catherine off, pleased that she’s willing to stick up for him, but unwilling to let this conversation with Lindsey end too soon. “See, when I was your age, I was a pretty good-looking kid.”
“Yeah. Right,” she snorts.
“Honest!” He puts his hand over his heart. “I was. Even got pictures to prove it.”
“You do?” She’s no longer ready to kick him, and Jim counts that as a victory. “I don’t believe you.” Maybe a premature victory.
“Hand to God, I do. I’ll bring ‘em next time I come over, and you can laugh at how goofy my hair was.” Jim smiles, inviting Lindsey to share in his amusement. It almost works, but she stops her own smile before it can really get started.
Still, it must have affected her more than she realizes, because when she speaks again, her voice holds genuine interest. “You never told me how you got so ugly.”
“Butt-ugly,” he says, grinning wider at her sudden blush. “I got this way playin’ hockey when I was a kid.”
Lindsey’s face screws up in puzzled concentration. “I don’t understand.”
“Used to stop the puck with my face a lot.” Jim leans back, allows himself to relax a little. His interview with Lindsey is going far better than he’d hoped.
“Didn’t you wear a face mask?”
“Didn’t have one, sweetheart.” The endearment slips in without either of them really noticing. “Anyway, in my neighborhood, a swollen nose and split lip were signs of manhood.”
“That’s stupid,” she scoffs.
“You got that right.”
After studying him for a long moment, she finally asks, “You still that stupid?”
He gives her question the due consideration it deserves and decides she probably doesn’t care about how stupid he was in waiting so long to go after Catherine. “Nah. Nowadays, I always use protection.”
Lindsey doesn’t notice Catherine abruptly leave the room, and that’s good as far as Jim is concerned. He doesn’t really want to explain to Lindsey why her mother burst into laughter just then.
Sizing him up one more time, Lindsey finally gives Jim a grudging look of approval. “Okay. I guess you can date her. But you have to take me along, too.” Jim frowns at that codicil, and Lindsey quickly adds, “Not all the time. But sometimes. Like maybe to that restaurant in the Montecito again?”
Jim smiles at the uncertain hope in Lindsey’s eyes and says, “I think that would be a great idea.”