Mini Challenge (Week 3) Response
Title: Lost in Translation
Prompt: “Eyes Up!”
Rating: PG only
Word Count: 702
Disclaimer: All characters belong to the CSI folks and Jerry Bruckheimer.
Author's Notes: Forgot to say: Totally off the cuff crackfic insanity. Not deep and meaningful at all. Sorry.
Summary: A snippet of break room life with reference to protocol in the work place.
~X~
The boys were looking at her chest.
Again.
It wasn't that Catherine minded per se, dancing tables had inured her to the inability of the male gender to pass a ripe pair without losing control of their eye-line for a second and what with her age and the after effects of a daughter swinging on them for nutritional purposes any attention was nice. But these were her work colleagues, servers of the public trust and they should have known better.
Her prospective rant had now been brewing nicely for a good twenty minutes (despite the attraction of their healthy sandwiches both Nick and Greg had been unable to concentrate their full attention on them for the entire break period) and placing the coffee cup delicately back onto the stand she swung round, the first words lined up on her tongue and ready to fire.
Unfortunately she didn't get much past "YOU!" before they stumbled over an apology, their chairs, and the lintel of the door on their way out.
She had just settled (still simmering) back to her place, the coffee helpfully holding open the latest file when Sara strolled in, late as usual. Typical, the woman could never resist a chance to rub in another painfully irritant sandy grain of evidence that she was married to the job. One wondered how Grissom survived it. Mind you, he was married to his bugs so it was fair. A match made in heaven, you might say, or at least in the lab at any rate.
Catherine nodded a distracted response to her co-workers greeting, preferring to fake a deep and meaningful interest in splatter patterns rather than enter into the complicated pitfall-strewn path of conversation. She moved her paperwork graciously as Sara slipped into the chair opposite and they would have managed a communal silence had not Catherine looked up for a brief second to check that her vital reports were safe from crumbs or flowery herbal tea stains.
"Hey!"
Sara was staring. Staring worse than the boys. Staring right at that part of Catherine's anatomy that wasn't to be stared at thank you, especially not by jumped up CSI's who pretended to flirt and then went off with hairy bearded bosses to float around the Caribbean or some such far flung areas looking for trees. Like there weren't good enough trees in Nevada! It wasn't all desert and cacti you know!
"Hey!" She said it again. It wasn't the most detailed protest admittedly, but it was the only one Catherine could come up with on the spur of the moment. Especially as a certain (recently quiet) back box room of her brain was trying to let her know how it felt about this whole "Sidle staring at parts of our anatomy" thing.
"Sorry." Sara didn't even blush! The woman was shameless. Shameless with her staring and her eyes and the face and the staring. Shameless. Which incidentally was an interesting avenue of thought to wander along. Not now though. In a quieter moment.
"You've got a factor missing."
"What?" (What?) Catherine squinted down at the equation printed across her top in lurid colours.
"There." And Sara pointed, her finger coming dangerously close to a sensitive area. "You need an X/fn here or it won't resolve. You should take it back and complain."
The erudite and intelligent being known previous as Catherine could only sit there and watch open mouthed as Sara stacked together her empty containers and picked up her mug. Say something. She had to say something!
"Thank you. I will." Great. Just great. Catherine dropped her head into her hands as that slim figure vanished through the doorway. "thank you... I will...". Could she have been any more idiotic? She began to beat her head gently against the tabletop.
"Hey..." A soft voice drew her out of her reverie and she looked up to see Sara leaning casually against the door frame. Catherine raised the obligatory "supervisor being disturbed whilst doing something moronic and hoping non-the-less to get away with it" eyebrow and waited.
"It's not that I wouldn't have been looking anyway." And with a flash of that well remembered grin, Sara winked deliciously and disappeared.
Prompt: “Eyes Up!”
Rating: PG only
Word Count: 702
Disclaimer: All characters belong to the CSI folks and Jerry Bruckheimer.
Author's Notes: Forgot to say: Totally off the cuff crackfic insanity. Not deep and meaningful at all. Sorry.
Summary: A snippet of break room life with reference to protocol in the work place.
~X~
The boys were looking at her chest.
Again.
It wasn't that Catherine minded per se, dancing tables had inured her to the inability of the male gender to pass a ripe pair without losing control of their eye-line for a second and what with her age and the after effects of a daughter swinging on them for nutritional purposes any attention was nice. But these were her work colleagues, servers of the public trust and they should have known better.
Her prospective rant had now been brewing nicely for a good twenty minutes (despite the attraction of their healthy sandwiches both Nick and Greg had been unable to concentrate their full attention on them for the entire break period) and placing the coffee cup delicately back onto the stand she swung round, the first words lined up on her tongue and ready to fire.
Unfortunately she didn't get much past "YOU!" before they stumbled over an apology, their chairs, and the lintel of the door on their way out.
She had just settled (still simmering) back to her place, the coffee helpfully holding open the latest file when Sara strolled in, late as usual. Typical, the woman could never resist a chance to rub in another painfully irritant sandy grain of evidence that she was married to the job. One wondered how Grissom survived it. Mind you, he was married to his bugs so it was fair. A match made in heaven, you might say, or at least in the lab at any rate.
Catherine nodded a distracted response to her co-workers greeting, preferring to fake a deep and meaningful interest in splatter patterns rather than enter into the complicated pitfall-strewn path of conversation. She moved her paperwork graciously as Sara slipped into the chair opposite and they would have managed a communal silence had not Catherine looked up for a brief second to check that her vital reports were safe from crumbs or flowery herbal tea stains.
"Hey!"
Sara was staring. Staring worse than the boys. Staring right at that part of Catherine's anatomy that wasn't to be stared at thank you, especially not by jumped up CSI's who pretended to flirt and then went off with hairy bearded bosses to float around the Caribbean or some such far flung areas looking for trees. Like there weren't good enough trees in Nevada! It wasn't all desert and cacti you know!
"Hey!" She said it again. It wasn't the most detailed protest admittedly, but it was the only one Catherine could come up with on the spur of the moment. Especially as a certain (recently quiet) back box room of her brain was trying to let her know how it felt about this whole "Sidle staring at parts of our anatomy" thing.
"Sorry." Sara didn't even blush! The woman was shameless. Shameless with her staring and her eyes and the face and the staring. Shameless. Which incidentally was an interesting avenue of thought to wander along. Not now though. In a quieter moment.
"You've got a factor missing."
"What?" (What?) Catherine squinted down at the equation printed across her top in lurid colours.
"There." And Sara pointed, her finger coming dangerously close to a sensitive area. "You need an X/fn here or it won't resolve. You should take it back and complain."
The erudite and intelligent being known previous as Catherine could only sit there and watch open mouthed as Sara stacked together her empty containers and picked up her mug. Say something. She had to say something!
"Thank you. I will." Great. Just great. Catherine dropped her head into her hands as that slim figure vanished through the doorway. "thank you... I will...". Could she have been any more idiotic? She began to beat her head gently against the tabletop.
"Hey..." A soft voice drew her out of her reverie and she looked up to see Sara leaning casually against the door frame. Catherine raised the obligatory "supervisor being disturbed whilst doing something moronic and hoping non-the-less to get away with it" eyebrow and waited.
"It's not that I wouldn't have been looking anyway." And with a flash of that well remembered grin, Sara winked deliciously and disappeared.