Turf Wars Pt 3
Title: Turf Wars
Pairing: Sara/Sofia
Rating: PG. blah blah.
Notes: um... no.
“So, what do you think of Sofia’s intern?” I ask casually, camera flashing.
“Huh?” Warrick appears immersed in marking blood spatter on the concrete with yellow placards. “Make sure you get this shot here.”
“Gotcha,” I pause for a moment, adjusting my vest that’s causing me to bake in this heat. “The intern, you know, what’s her name,” As if I don’t remember! “Whaddaya think of her?” Flash.
“Sara, come on, man. I’m married. Someone yells ‘intern’ and I close my eyes and run in the other direction. Know what I mean?” Warrick snorts as he drops another yellow card.
This draws a smile, despite the heat and my cranky demeanor. “I gotcha.” Flash. “But Greg and Nick, they fall all over themselves the minute she walks in the room. It’s irritating.”
Warrick looks up at me from his squatting position. The sun is killing him too, as the sweat just rolls down his face. “You jealous, Sidle?”
“No! No way… I just…” Damn Warrick for being able to see through me so well. “It’s irritating.”
Warrick arches an eyebrow, and throws me a quick nod. “You said that.”
//
Back at the lab, I retreat to the locker room to grab a quick shower while I wait for various test results. I scoff at the preposterous notion that Las Vegas is a “dry heat” as I peel off several layers of soaked clothing.
The cool water instantly relieves a lot of the tension I built up over the course of the afternoon. Outside the sun would be setting right about now, and suddenly I wish I were out there, camping maybe, at least a hike. To feel the brush against my bare legs, the sound of the dirt crackling beneath my feet.
Alas, there’s never enough time for daydreaming as I can hear my pager going off on the bench just outside the shower. Toweling off and jumping into my jeans, I check it out: it’s Sofia’s number, from upstairs.
My back is still wet as I throw a blue shirt over my head, making it cling in odd places and not nearly enough in others. I frown in the mirror, and then at myself-what the hell am I thinking? I’m going up there to check on a case, not ask her to the spring dance.
The sound of heels on the tiled floor echo in my direction, and in a moment I see Sofia Curtis peering over at me from the row of lockers. Her hair is pulled back, sunglasses resting on top of her head, still a little shiny with sweat.
“Thought I’d find you here, slacking off, as usual,” she smiles.
I flip her a quick middle finger, tempered with a crooked smile back. “Where’s your sidecar?”
She laughs. “You mean Carla? Upstairs.”
I don’t say anything, although secretly I’m relieved. I run my fingers through my hair, shaking out what’s left of the water before I brush it. Sofia just watches me, arms crossed, body completely still, almost as if she’s stopped breathing.
“So what’d you want?” It sounds a little harsher than it did in my head, and I have to keep myself from grimacing.
Sofia shrugs, steps a few feet closer to me. “Dunno, just wanted to check up on you I guess. You were acting strange last night. Everything alright?”
“I appreciate that,” I offer sincerely, “but I’m fine.”
It takes a fine amount of concentrated effort to sound blasé, and to brush past her calmly but not coolly… and I pull it off masterfully.
Heading out the locker room door, I bite my lip in tentative victory. After a rocky start, it looks like I’ve got her right where I want her.
///
With shift only halfway over, I find myself slipping into an uncharacteristic funk. Sloppy and tired, I twirl my pencil in my hand. First clockwise, then counterclockwise. Clockwise, counterclockwise. Clockwise…
I start thinking that maybe the ‘couldn’t-care-less Sara’ I was giving Sofia in the locker room wasn’t such a great idea. I mean, isn’t that what I give everyone all the time? And the fiery, headlong-look-out-here-I-come approach seems to work for Catherine…
Now I know I’ve lost it. Am I really considering Catherine’s approach to anything as superior to my own?
“She’s also slutty, Sara… you wanna go there too?” I tease myself, the sheer lunacy of it all driving me to announce it out loud.
“Who’s slutty?” Catherine interrupts, not even stopping in the doorway but simply barreling in.
Goddammit. “Nobody, I was just… rambling to myself.” Yes, make yourself sound crazy, that’s a good idea.
“Well it just so happens your ramblings are relevant,” she explains, propping herself up on the stool opposite the light table. “Figured you’d wanna be in the pool. Warrick says you’re no big fan of Carla either. And we’re talkin’ two hundred bucks here. Might buy you a nice night out… or… whatever.”
I let the dig slide, my interest peaked. “What pool?”
“Turns out Carla’s been schmoozing it heavy tonight around the lab, and I mean thick. Stroking Greg’s arm at the scopes, tossing her hair at Nick,” Catherine mimics the move perfectly. “Stuff like that. Now you know as well as I do where that’sheaded.”
“You probably know a little better than I do,” I drop in, unable to resist.
“Probably,” Catherine doesn’t miss a beat, “but you get the idea. This kid’s on a one-way train to Hickeyville and I wanna make a little money before she’s out with the unis next week catchin’ more than that. We drew straws…”
She unfolds a piece of white paper in front of me, with pairs of names. “Warrick drew Greg, I got Nick, goddamn Hodges got Sofia, and you drew Wendy.”
I frown at my ‘assignment.’ Everyone knows Wendy’s saving herself for Catherine.
“Well…” Catherine senses my disappointment. “You can switch to Archie if you think he’s got the balls. Fifty bucks each.”
“And what if Little Miss Sunshine makes it outta here next week unsullied?”
Catherine snorts, “Like that’ll happen! But if it does then… we all go out to a bar and get trashed. And leave Hodges on I-15 somewhere.”
Pairing: Sara/Sofia
Rating: PG. blah blah.
Notes: um... no.
“So, what do you think of Sofia’s intern?” I ask casually, camera flashing.
“Huh?” Warrick appears immersed in marking blood spatter on the concrete with yellow placards. “Make sure you get this shot here.”
“Gotcha,” I pause for a moment, adjusting my vest that’s causing me to bake in this heat. “The intern, you know, what’s her name,” As if I don’t remember! “Whaddaya think of her?” Flash.
“Sara, come on, man. I’m married. Someone yells ‘intern’ and I close my eyes and run in the other direction. Know what I mean?” Warrick snorts as he drops another yellow card.
This draws a smile, despite the heat and my cranky demeanor. “I gotcha.” Flash. “But Greg and Nick, they fall all over themselves the minute she walks in the room. It’s irritating.”
Warrick looks up at me from his squatting position. The sun is killing him too, as the sweat just rolls down his face. “You jealous, Sidle?”
“No! No way… I just…” Damn Warrick for being able to see through me so well. “It’s irritating.”
Warrick arches an eyebrow, and throws me a quick nod. “You said that.”
//
Back at the lab, I retreat to the locker room to grab a quick shower while I wait for various test results. I scoff at the preposterous notion that Las Vegas is a “dry heat” as I peel off several layers of soaked clothing.
The cool water instantly relieves a lot of the tension I built up over the course of the afternoon. Outside the sun would be setting right about now, and suddenly I wish I were out there, camping maybe, at least a hike. To feel the brush against my bare legs, the sound of the dirt crackling beneath my feet.
Alas, there’s never enough time for daydreaming as I can hear my pager going off on the bench just outside the shower. Toweling off and jumping into my jeans, I check it out: it’s Sofia’s number, from upstairs.
My back is still wet as I throw a blue shirt over my head, making it cling in odd places and not nearly enough in others. I frown in the mirror, and then at myself-what the hell am I thinking? I’m going up there to check on a case, not ask her to the spring dance.
The sound of heels on the tiled floor echo in my direction, and in a moment I see Sofia Curtis peering over at me from the row of lockers. Her hair is pulled back, sunglasses resting on top of her head, still a little shiny with sweat.
“Thought I’d find you here, slacking off, as usual,” she smiles.
I flip her a quick middle finger, tempered with a crooked smile back. “Where’s your sidecar?”
She laughs. “You mean Carla? Upstairs.”
I don’t say anything, although secretly I’m relieved. I run my fingers through my hair, shaking out what’s left of the water before I brush it. Sofia just watches me, arms crossed, body completely still, almost as if she’s stopped breathing.
“So what’d you want?” It sounds a little harsher than it did in my head, and I have to keep myself from grimacing.
Sofia shrugs, steps a few feet closer to me. “Dunno, just wanted to check up on you I guess. You were acting strange last night. Everything alright?”
“I appreciate that,” I offer sincerely, “but I’m fine.”
It takes a fine amount of concentrated effort to sound blasé, and to brush past her calmly but not coolly… and I pull it off masterfully.
Heading out the locker room door, I bite my lip in tentative victory. After a rocky start, it looks like I’ve got her right where I want her.
///
With shift only halfway over, I find myself slipping into an uncharacteristic funk. Sloppy and tired, I twirl my pencil in my hand. First clockwise, then counterclockwise. Clockwise, counterclockwise. Clockwise…
I start thinking that maybe the ‘couldn’t-care-less Sara’ I was giving Sofia in the locker room wasn’t such a great idea. I mean, isn’t that what I give everyone all the time? And the fiery, headlong-look-out-here-I-come approach seems to work for Catherine…
Now I know I’ve lost it. Am I really considering Catherine’s approach to anything as superior to my own?
“She’s also slutty, Sara… you wanna go there too?” I tease myself, the sheer lunacy of it all driving me to announce it out loud.
“Who’s slutty?” Catherine interrupts, not even stopping in the doorway but simply barreling in.
Goddammit. “Nobody, I was just… rambling to myself.” Yes, make yourself sound crazy, that’s a good idea.
“Well it just so happens your ramblings are relevant,” she explains, propping herself up on the stool opposite the light table. “Figured you’d wanna be in the pool. Warrick says you’re no big fan of Carla either. And we’re talkin’ two hundred bucks here. Might buy you a nice night out… or… whatever.”
I let the dig slide, my interest peaked. “What pool?”
“Turns out Carla’s been schmoozing it heavy tonight around the lab, and I mean thick. Stroking Greg’s arm at the scopes, tossing her hair at Nick,” Catherine mimics the move perfectly. “Stuff like that. Now you know as well as I do where that’sheaded.”
“You probably know a little better than I do,” I drop in, unable to resist.
“Probably,” Catherine doesn’t miss a beat, “but you get the idea. This kid’s on a one-way train to Hickeyville and I wanna make a little money before she’s out with the unis next week catchin’ more than that. We drew straws…”
She unfolds a piece of white paper in front of me, with pairs of names. “Warrick drew Greg, I got Nick, goddamn Hodges got Sofia, and you drew Wendy.”
I frown at my ‘assignment.’ Everyone knows Wendy’s saving herself for Catherine.
“Well…” Catherine senses my disappointment. “You can switch to Archie if you think he’s got the balls. Fifty bucks each.”
“And what if Little Miss Sunshine makes it outta here next week unsullied?”
Catherine snorts, “Like that’ll happen! But if it does then… we all go out to a bar and get trashed. And leave Hodges on I-15 somewhere.”