fun Numb3rs/Primeval ficlet
pre-s2 Numb3rs, pre-s3 Primeval...
Colby's unit was in England when a length of downtime came at last - England and the football was a welcome change from Afghanistan and the IEDs (though Dwayne didn't think so).
Walking into a museum, Colby thought to himself, Last time I was in the area, I wasted an afternoon in a pub talking with a guy about bathing birds in the right oils and licking it off them... not liking how long it had taken to realize that he and the guy were talking about two very different topics.
"Hi," Colby said when one of the curators or keepers or whatever title they give pretty ladies in charge of exhibits kept her eye on him for a while now - he was trained to notice things like this, and he most definately didn't object to noticing her.
"Hi. Sarah Page," she said, introducing herself on a lark - and because her hormones were screaming at her to jump him, she shook his hand.
"Colby Granger."
"So, Mr. Granger, may I ask why you find Sobek so fascinating?" hoping that this man didn't cite the god's power over the rising and falling of the Nile (usually such cite-ers cited it while going nudge-nudge at her, hoping the symbolism would impress her with their masculinity)
"He's a crocodile," Colby said.
"That he is," Sarah said, relieved.
"We don't have them in Idaho."
She could have kissed him. But we're in public.
So he spent the afternoon here, in the companionable company of Dr Page. Mostly silence, but good conversation when one of them spoke.
I'd ask you for your number, Colby thought, ask you for a date. But he didn't...because he didn't want her involved or tangled up in his undercover assignment.
When he left, Sarah kicked herself for not asking him out. Face it, she told herself, Grandma was right - I'm going to die alone. Probably eaten.
Colby's unit was in England when a length of downtime came at last - England and the football was a welcome change from Afghanistan and the IEDs (though Dwayne didn't think so).
Walking into a museum, Colby thought to himself, Last time I was in the area, I wasted an afternoon in a pub talking with a guy about bathing birds in the right oils and licking it off them... not liking how long it had taken to realize that he and the guy were talking about two very different topics.
"Hi," Colby said when one of the curators or keepers or whatever title they give pretty ladies in charge of exhibits kept her eye on him for a while now - he was trained to notice things like this, and he most definately didn't object to noticing her.
"Hi. Sarah Page," she said, introducing herself on a lark - and because her hormones were screaming at her to jump him, she shook his hand.
"Colby Granger."
"So, Mr. Granger, may I ask why you find Sobek so fascinating?" hoping that this man didn't cite the god's power over the rising and falling of the Nile (usually such cite-ers cited it while going nudge-nudge at her, hoping the symbolism would impress her with their masculinity)
"He's a crocodile," Colby said.
"That he is," Sarah said, relieved.
"We don't have them in Idaho."
She could have kissed him. But we're in public.
So he spent the afternoon here, in the companionable company of Dr Page. Mostly silence, but good conversation when one of them spoke.
I'd ask you for your number, Colby thought, ask you for a date. But he didn't...because he didn't want her involved or tangled up in his undercover assignment.
When he left, Sarah kicked herself for not asking him out. Face it, she told herself, Grandma was right - I'm going to die alone. Probably eaten.