(no subject)
Title: Anger Mangement needed
Author : Sblomie-girl
Rating: PG-13 (some language and ref. to self harm)
A/N: continuing from 'Supposed to be' and 'A shattered heart'. I'm not sure if this part flows right, you be the judge.
Jacqui sat in the Ballistics Lab with Bobby and Archie, waiting for the opportune moment to catch Stokes alone.
She’d left Greg in the locker room fifteen minutes previous when he told her he needed to change- the clothes he’d been wearing belonged to Nick. Greg claimed that he had worn them due to the fact that he’d been unable to find his own; Jacqui had had to suppress a smile as he lamented over the loss of his shirt. If it had been the same one he’d worn during the previous nights shift, it was hardly a loss in her mind: the damn thing had nearly melted her corneas each time she looked in Greg’s general direction.
Though they’d been expecting it, the two men with her were almost as pissed off as Jacqui about how Nick had done it. Greg had told her everything, between tears and sobs.
“That son of a bitch.” Bobby glared through the glass walls to the break room, were Nick sat laughing with the rest of the graveyard shift CSI personnel.
Archie muttered a lot of things under his breath and though Jacqui couldn’t be sure, she thought he was speaking in Klingon.
It was several minutes before Greg reappeared in his lab. He was now wearing black jeans, a black leather studded belt, and a faded Ozzy Osbourne t-shirt. His eyes were heavy with eyeliner, his cheeks still stained from tears.
He instantly made his way over to his beloved stereo and inserted a disc. Black Sabbath filled the lab as he began to head bang along with.
Archie smiled a little at this familiar sight. “That’s the dance of a brave little toaster” he remarked, shrugging as his companions each raised an eyebrow at his comment.
“Maybe he’ll be ok.” Concurred Bobby
“I guess he’ll bounce back, given time. He seems to be doing better; at least there are no more tears”
“Are you totally insane? He’s hanging on by a thread, any moron can see that.” A new voice demanded from the doorway behind them.
Turning, they found Hodges leaning against the doorway, smug smile in place. “What? You think that the fact that no one likes me here means I don’t know what goes on? I know more than anyone else because I’m ignored, no one notices but I’m always listening. And I’ve also noticed Sanders’ wrist, not that I particularly care, I hope next time he actually goes through with it properly.” And with that the slimy little troll disappeared once more.
Looking at Greg’s dancing form; Jacqui saw cuts that hadn’t been there when she’d left him fifteen minutes ago. She could literally feel her blood boil as her last straw snapped.
She got up from her seat and stormed down the corridors, Bobby and Archie in tow. Her intent was simple: making the Texan ‘ladies man’ pay in ways that only an employee of a crime lab or a psycho would know how.
***
The team were taking advantage of having plenty of time on their hands. There were several cartoons of Chinese take-out being passed around as the girls flipped through magazines and Nick and Warrick watched the game, squabbling over who was going to win, an argument which was getting ever more ridiculous as each brought up past misjudgements of the other.
Gil Grissom sat in between the two pairs, enjoying the calming presence of the women and the entertainment the males were inadvertently supplying when Jacqui stormed in. The usually mild manner tech stopped just short of Nick, right in front of the screen. Warrick’s protests were cut short when she slapped Nick across the face.
“Jacqui, what-” Stammered the shocked man, a red hand print was already forming on his handsome face.
“You sick bastard.” She cut in “Why’d you do it, huh Nicky” She snarled as she used his childhood nickname. “Bored were you? Wanted a bit of fun?”
“Jacqui, what are-”
“Is that how you get your kicks? Make someone fall in love with you, have a few gropes here, few fucks there then BAM, you cut them lose? No harm, no foul, right? Well, no harm to you, anyway” She shook her head “You make me sick.”
Around them, their clueless colleagues exchanged confused glances, silently asking one another ‘Has Nick been sleeping with Jacqui?’
As she seethed with anger, she realised their mistake was due to the misconception of Nick’s sexuality, a secret he’d worked hard to hide. She decided to hit below the belt, way below.
Smiling sadistically, Jacqui threw the Texan out of the closet.
“It’s always been painfully obvious that he loved you.” She said, deliberately stressing the ‘he’ part, just to ensure no one missed it. “Sure, he hits on Sara, and yeah, he looks down Catherine’s shirt, hell, I’ve even seen him checking out Warrick in the locker room, but it’s you he loves. It’s always been you, and you knew that and exploited it.”
Nick rose from his seat, unable to control his own anger any longer “You don’t know shit, Jacqui. You don’t know why I did what I did, so just piss off and mind your own business.”
“My own business?” She exploded in response “That poor boy has spent the last few hours in my arms, crying his eyes out and now he’s got slashed wrists, so don’t you dare say this isn’t my business.” She raised her hand once more, but his time Nick knew what to expect and caught her wrist.
“What do you want, Jacqui? Why are you here?” He quietly demanded, shaking her slightly by the wrist
“I want to know why.” She replied simply
“I think we all do.” Added Catherine who, along with Sara, had appeared beside Jacqui. The two women were wearing matching expressions of anger and hurt.
“And why Greg?” Warrick demanded, joining the throng.
Nick sighed, dealing with a gaggle of hysterical women was bad enough, but now Warrick was siding with them? It just wasn’t fair. As he drew breath, preparing to say something, anything to defend himself, he noticed Archie and Bobby at the door.
He just didn’t understand, he’d defended Greg from them countless times, and now they had the nerve to gang up on him, what a bunch of hypocrites.
“I didn’t mean for him to get hurt…” Nick trailed of, unnerved by the stares of his interrogators. He suddenly understood how it felt to be a suspect; he didn’t like the feeling at all.
“Now, I wonder why we’d think you did.” Jacqui remarked, acerbically
“Oh, shut up Jacqui. Give me a chance, Christ’s sake.” Nick glared before continuing.
“I did it because I love him.”
“Huh?”
Nick bit back a laugh as his interrogators stared at him dumbfounded.
Author : Sblomie-girl
Rating: PG-13 (some language and ref. to self harm)
A/N: continuing from 'Supposed to be' and 'A shattered heart'. I'm not sure if this part flows right, you be the judge.
Jacqui sat in the Ballistics Lab with Bobby and Archie, waiting for the opportune moment to catch Stokes alone.
She’d left Greg in the locker room fifteen minutes previous when he told her he needed to change- the clothes he’d been wearing belonged to Nick. Greg claimed that he had worn them due to the fact that he’d been unable to find his own; Jacqui had had to suppress a smile as he lamented over the loss of his shirt. If it had been the same one he’d worn during the previous nights shift, it was hardly a loss in her mind: the damn thing had nearly melted her corneas each time she looked in Greg’s general direction.
Though they’d been expecting it, the two men with her were almost as pissed off as Jacqui about how Nick had done it. Greg had told her everything, between tears and sobs.
“That son of a bitch.” Bobby glared through the glass walls to the break room, were Nick sat laughing with the rest of the graveyard shift CSI personnel.
Archie muttered a lot of things under his breath and though Jacqui couldn’t be sure, she thought he was speaking in Klingon.
It was several minutes before Greg reappeared in his lab. He was now wearing black jeans, a black leather studded belt, and a faded Ozzy Osbourne t-shirt. His eyes were heavy with eyeliner, his cheeks still stained from tears.
He instantly made his way over to his beloved stereo and inserted a disc. Black Sabbath filled the lab as he began to head bang along with.
Archie smiled a little at this familiar sight. “That’s the dance of a brave little toaster” he remarked, shrugging as his companions each raised an eyebrow at his comment.
“Maybe he’ll be ok.” Concurred Bobby
“I guess he’ll bounce back, given time. He seems to be doing better; at least there are no more tears”
“Are you totally insane? He’s hanging on by a thread, any moron can see that.” A new voice demanded from the doorway behind them.
Turning, they found Hodges leaning against the doorway, smug smile in place. “What? You think that the fact that no one likes me here means I don’t know what goes on? I know more than anyone else because I’m ignored, no one notices but I’m always listening. And I’ve also noticed Sanders’ wrist, not that I particularly care, I hope next time he actually goes through with it properly.” And with that the slimy little troll disappeared once more.
Looking at Greg’s dancing form; Jacqui saw cuts that hadn’t been there when she’d left him fifteen minutes ago. She could literally feel her blood boil as her last straw snapped.
She got up from her seat and stormed down the corridors, Bobby and Archie in tow. Her intent was simple: making the Texan ‘ladies man’ pay in ways that only an employee of a crime lab or a psycho would know how.
***
The team were taking advantage of having plenty of time on their hands. There were several cartoons of Chinese take-out being passed around as the girls flipped through magazines and Nick and Warrick watched the game, squabbling over who was going to win, an argument which was getting ever more ridiculous as each brought up past misjudgements of the other.
Gil Grissom sat in between the two pairs, enjoying the calming presence of the women and the entertainment the males were inadvertently supplying when Jacqui stormed in. The usually mild manner tech stopped just short of Nick, right in front of the screen. Warrick’s protests were cut short when she slapped Nick across the face.
“Jacqui, what-” Stammered the shocked man, a red hand print was already forming on his handsome face.
“You sick bastard.” She cut in “Why’d you do it, huh Nicky” She snarled as she used his childhood nickname. “Bored were you? Wanted a bit of fun?”
“Jacqui, what are-”
“Is that how you get your kicks? Make someone fall in love with you, have a few gropes here, few fucks there then BAM, you cut them lose? No harm, no foul, right? Well, no harm to you, anyway” She shook her head “You make me sick.”
Around them, their clueless colleagues exchanged confused glances, silently asking one another ‘Has Nick been sleeping with Jacqui?’
As she seethed with anger, she realised their mistake was due to the misconception of Nick’s sexuality, a secret he’d worked hard to hide. She decided to hit below the belt, way below.
Smiling sadistically, Jacqui threw the Texan out of the closet.
“It’s always been painfully obvious that he loved you.” She said, deliberately stressing the ‘he’ part, just to ensure no one missed it. “Sure, he hits on Sara, and yeah, he looks down Catherine’s shirt, hell, I’ve even seen him checking out Warrick in the locker room, but it’s you he loves. It’s always been you, and you knew that and exploited it.”
Nick rose from his seat, unable to control his own anger any longer “You don’t know shit, Jacqui. You don’t know why I did what I did, so just piss off and mind your own business.”
“My own business?” She exploded in response “That poor boy has spent the last few hours in my arms, crying his eyes out and now he’s got slashed wrists, so don’t you dare say this isn’t my business.” She raised her hand once more, but his time Nick knew what to expect and caught her wrist.
“What do you want, Jacqui? Why are you here?” He quietly demanded, shaking her slightly by the wrist
“I want to know why.” She replied simply
“I think we all do.” Added Catherine who, along with Sara, had appeared beside Jacqui. The two women were wearing matching expressions of anger and hurt.
“And why Greg?” Warrick demanded, joining the throng.
Nick sighed, dealing with a gaggle of hysterical women was bad enough, but now Warrick was siding with them? It just wasn’t fair. As he drew breath, preparing to say something, anything to defend himself, he noticed Archie and Bobby at the door.
He just didn’t understand, he’d defended Greg from them countless times, and now they had the nerve to gang up on him, what a bunch of hypocrites.
“I didn’t mean for him to get hurt…” Nick trailed of, unnerved by the stares of his interrogators. He suddenly understood how it felt to be a suspect; he didn’t like the feeling at all.
“Now, I wonder why we’d think you did.” Jacqui remarked, acerbically
“Oh, shut up Jacqui. Give me a chance, Christ’s sake.” Nick glared before continuing.
“I did it because I love him.”
“Huh?”
Nick bit back a laugh as his interrogators stared at him dumbfounded.