Turf Wars: Pt. 2
Title: Turf Wars
Pairing: Sara/Sofia
Rating: PG
Notes: Fear not, there are at least two more parts to this story... but I am gonna try to wrap it up soon.
The hearty sound of Nick’s laughter booms down the hallway. My e-mail inbox is chock full at the moment, but it’s tedious work sifting through the spam and porn ads to get to the “real” mail, so I decide to scope out what’s going on.
Three rooms away, Nick and Greg are really getting into it-telling war stories for Carla. The prepubescent intern is eating it up, her face flush with laughter and her generously exposed cleavage is practically jiggling. Catherine Junior.
“So then Greg looks at me and is like, ‘Dude, where’s your car?’” More fits of laughter.
“You mean… like the movie?” Carla asks excitedly.
“Yeah, exactly!” Greg’s eyes light up as though he has just found his soul mate, and I suddenly feel as microscopic as that DNA sample sitting untouched on the lab table.
“Oh hey Sara, what’s up?” Nick finally asks, practically sweating from the efforts of his storytelling.
“Not much, just came over to see what all the commotion was about.”
“Well, the guys were just telling me some of their favorite moments on the job,” Carla explains.
The guys. I’m tempted to run out to the front gate of the building and make sure I didn’t accidentally stumble into CSI High.
“Where’s Detective Curtis?” I ask before I can even stop myself. I hope I remembered to insert the right amount of nonchalance into that question.
“She’s upstairs on the horn with the NYC Crime Lab. Turns out that DB Warrick and Catherine processed? Might not just be your run-of-the-mill scumbag-if the DNA’s any indication, he was a three-time rapist in the Big Apple,” Nick replies, gathering his jacket and sliding off the metal stool. “C’mon Greggo, that reminds me we gotta get that paperwork on Scumbag #2 to Grissom pronto.”
“Mind if I tag along with you, Sara?” Carla asks, and so damn earnestly I have to say yes. “Thanks for entertaining me, guys.”
Nick and Greg stumble over letting Carla and I through the door first, as though they’ve mutated into the most chivalrous of gentlemen in the last five seconds. I give Greg a friendly shove, and I’m almost relieved when he shoves me back.
///
“And she told me ALL about Academy, which… wow, really sounds like hell,” Carla gushed. “It’s so inspiring, you know, to meet a woman who has really done it all-worked the beat, made Detective… even a CSI for a little while.”
My mind flashed back to that brief period when Sofia was indeed a CSI. It seems like a hundred years ago.
“Like, did you know she had the top GPA in her academy class?”
I shake my head no, and continue my work at the computer.
“Well she was. I had to pry that one out of her; she’s kinda modest.”
Just when I think she’s going to stop talking, there’s more.
“And her dog? Ohhh my god, so adorable.”
“Her dog?!” My head pops out from behind the monitor. “Curtis has a dog?”
Carla looks a little surprised. “Yeah…,” she leans in and whispers, “We stopped off at her place to let him out before we got back here. I don’t know if I’m supposed to…”
“I won’t say anything,” I mumble, suddenly very despondent. This girl has known Sofia 24 hours and already she knows more about her than I do. Are we really that distant? Do I really keep us that distant?
Carla continues to blab on for what seems like an eternity, about this and that, about Sofia’s dog (the cutest animal ever to walk the earth, apparently) and her family and her CSI experience. I stop listening when she starts mentioning her shoe size and her love of black and white movies, so I’m caught completely off-guard when she drops the bomb.
“And I asked her, you know, what it’s like to be a lesbian on the Department.”
The ringing in my ears blocks out pretty much the rest of what the young intern has to say, all of which I desperately want to hear, so I shake my head briefly in an effort to clear the clouds. “You what?”
Carla may be an infant, and she may be naïve, but she can probably tell by my wide-eyed response that I had no idea.
“Um… you know, she said… it’s not that tough.”
Don’t you clam up on me now, girl! “That’s what she said? That it’s… ‘not that tough’?”
Clearly uncomfortable now, Carla attempts to swallow the foot in her mouth. “Pretty much. She said she just… doesn’t hide it, but doesn’t advertise either. I think that-“
“You guys alright in here? Sara? You look like you’re about to pass out,” Sofia appears in the doorway and makes her way across the room. Putting a hand on my shoulder, she eyes me sideways. “Carla?”
“Yeah, we were just… well, I was going on about you actually and I-“
“She told me you were first in your academy class! And that you have a dog!” I blurt out in a rush. “I love dogs, Sofia. You’ve got to let me meet him. When can I meet him?” Whereas my face was previously white, it is now hot with blood, eager to change the subject.
“Anytime, Sara. As soon as you and I get some time away from this place, right?” Sofia jokes, the hand on my shoulder replaced with a gentle slap.
Noting Carla’s rapidly improving composure, it looks as though we’ve averted that potential disaster. I finally breathe after what feels like eons.
“So,” Sofia slumps down at the nearest chair, forearms on the armrest, palms dangling, legs… spread. Jesus. “Long enough day for ya, Iannotti?”
“Definitely. I’ve still got to get the bus home and finish a paper for my History class. I’m just happy this is my last semester.”
“And you, Sidle? Pulling another double or are you maxed out on overtime?”
I mock a swipe across my neck with my hand. “I’m cut off till the end of the month. Gotta go home, no choice.”
Sofia closes her eyes and lets her head slide back against the chair, a faint, almost growling coming from deep within her. A quick glance to the young intern, and it’s clear the eroticism of the whole moment is not lost on her.
Sofia’s toes tap lightly and the wheeled chair sways with her movements. Some people prefer to have these intimate moments of relaxation alone; Sofia Curtis has them in the crime lab with two panting lesbians watching.
Finally, her exercise in torture over, Sofia’s head swings back up with a start. “Alright, Carla… whaddaya say we get the hell outta here? I’ll give you a ride home.”
The subtle look Carla gives me is the equivalent of a flashy ballplayer gyrating in the end zone. Oh, it’s war now.
Pairing: Sara/Sofia
Rating: PG
Notes: Fear not, there are at least two more parts to this story... but I am gonna try to wrap it up soon.
The hearty sound of Nick’s laughter booms down the hallway. My e-mail inbox is chock full at the moment, but it’s tedious work sifting through the spam and porn ads to get to the “real” mail, so I decide to scope out what’s going on.
Three rooms away, Nick and Greg are really getting into it-telling war stories for Carla. The prepubescent intern is eating it up, her face flush with laughter and her generously exposed cleavage is practically jiggling. Catherine Junior.
“So then Greg looks at me and is like, ‘Dude, where’s your car?’” More fits of laughter.
“You mean… like the movie?” Carla asks excitedly.
“Yeah, exactly!” Greg’s eyes light up as though he has just found his soul mate, and I suddenly feel as microscopic as that DNA sample sitting untouched on the lab table.
“Oh hey Sara, what’s up?” Nick finally asks, practically sweating from the efforts of his storytelling.
“Not much, just came over to see what all the commotion was about.”
“Well, the guys were just telling me some of their favorite moments on the job,” Carla explains.
The guys. I’m tempted to run out to the front gate of the building and make sure I didn’t accidentally stumble into CSI High.
“Where’s Detective Curtis?” I ask before I can even stop myself. I hope I remembered to insert the right amount of nonchalance into that question.
“She’s upstairs on the horn with the NYC Crime Lab. Turns out that DB Warrick and Catherine processed? Might not just be your run-of-the-mill scumbag-if the DNA’s any indication, he was a three-time rapist in the Big Apple,” Nick replies, gathering his jacket and sliding off the metal stool. “C’mon Greggo, that reminds me we gotta get that paperwork on Scumbag #2 to Grissom pronto.”
“Mind if I tag along with you, Sara?” Carla asks, and so damn earnestly I have to say yes. “Thanks for entertaining me, guys.”
Nick and Greg stumble over letting Carla and I through the door first, as though they’ve mutated into the most chivalrous of gentlemen in the last five seconds. I give Greg a friendly shove, and I’m almost relieved when he shoves me back.
///
“And she told me ALL about Academy, which… wow, really sounds like hell,” Carla gushed. “It’s so inspiring, you know, to meet a woman who has really done it all-worked the beat, made Detective… even a CSI for a little while.”
My mind flashed back to that brief period when Sofia was indeed a CSI. It seems like a hundred years ago.
“Like, did you know she had the top GPA in her academy class?”
I shake my head no, and continue my work at the computer.
“Well she was. I had to pry that one out of her; she’s kinda modest.”
Just when I think she’s going to stop talking, there’s more.
“And her dog? Ohhh my god, so adorable.”
“Her dog?!” My head pops out from behind the monitor. “Curtis has a dog?”
Carla looks a little surprised. “Yeah…,” she leans in and whispers, “We stopped off at her place to let him out before we got back here. I don’t know if I’m supposed to…”
“I won’t say anything,” I mumble, suddenly very despondent. This girl has known Sofia 24 hours and already she knows more about her than I do. Are we really that distant? Do I really keep us that distant?
Carla continues to blab on for what seems like an eternity, about this and that, about Sofia’s dog (the cutest animal ever to walk the earth, apparently) and her family and her CSI experience. I stop listening when she starts mentioning her shoe size and her love of black and white movies, so I’m caught completely off-guard when she drops the bomb.
“And I asked her, you know, what it’s like to be a lesbian on the Department.”
The ringing in my ears blocks out pretty much the rest of what the young intern has to say, all of which I desperately want to hear, so I shake my head briefly in an effort to clear the clouds. “You what?”
Carla may be an infant, and she may be naïve, but she can probably tell by my wide-eyed response that I had no idea.
“Um… you know, she said… it’s not that tough.”
Don’t you clam up on me now, girl! “That’s what she said? That it’s… ‘not that tough’?”
Clearly uncomfortable now, Carla attempts to swallow the foot in her mouth. “Pretty much. She said she just… doesn’t hide it, but doesn’t advertise either. I think that-“
“You guys alright in here? Sara? You look like you’re about to pass out,” Sofia appears in the doorway and makes her way across the room. Putting a hand on my shoulder, she eyes me sideways. “Carla?”
“Yeah, we were just… well, I was going on about you actually and I-“
“She told me you were first in your academy class! And that you have a dog!” I blurt out in a rush. “I love dogs, Sofia. You’ve got to let me meet him. When can I meet him?” Whereas my face was previously white, it is now hot with blood, eager to change the subject.
“Anytime, Sara. As soon as you and I get some time away from this place, right?” Sofia jokes, the hand on my shoulder replaced with a gentle slap.
Noting Carla’s rapidly improving composure, it looks as though we’ve averted that potential disaster. I finally breathe after what feels like eons.
“So,” Sofia slumps down at the nearest chair, forearms on the armrest, palms dangling, legs… spread. Jesus. “Long enough day for ya, Iannotti?”
“Definitely. I’ve still got to get the bus home and finish a paper for my History class. I’m just happy this is my last semester.”
“And you, Sidle? Pulling another double or are you maxed out on overtime?”
I mock a swipe across my neck with my hand. “I’m cut off till the end of the month. Gotta go home, no choice.”
Sofia closes her eyes and lets her head slide back against the chair, a faint, almost growling coming from deep within her. A quick glance to the young intern, and it’s clear the eroticism of the whole moment is not lost on her.
Sofia’s toes tap lightly and the wheeled chair sways with her movements. Some people prefer to have these intimate moments of relaxation alone; Sofia Curtis has them in the crime lab with two panting lesbians watching.
Finally, her exercise in torture over, Sofia’s head swings back up with a start. “Alright, Carla… whaddaya say we get the hell outta here? I’ll give you a ride home.”
The subtle look Carla gives me is the equivalent of a flashy ballplayer gyrating in the end zone. Oh, it’s war now.