Yeap… another BeckyCSI prompt. Got this one about 3 months ago- yeah. I could kill her for the “Brass puns” alone… but that’s a mute point now… so here we go…

Keegan Elizabeth- my beta greata… thanks for the (again) last minute beta request fulfillment 

- -

Stipulations

Sara sticking post it notes (with messages) on people.
- A random duck waddling the halls of CSI and becoming one of the CSI's 'pet' (Name him Lenny)
- Grissom playing heavy metal in his office whilst playing air guitar and using his fetal pig jar as the microphone
- One of the lab rats walking in on said 'Rocker Grissom' and joining in.
- Warrick coming into work with all of his shirt buttons done up, repeatedly getting questioned for it
- Brass making crappy puns out of everything
- GSR (Not canon)

- -

No Puns Intended

“You see what Warrick has on tonight? Or should I say what he doesn’t have on?” Greg asked at the lab table as he passed by Nick and lifted the tape.

“Oh yeah- that shirt was pimp but missing a few buttons, huh?” he said, smirking at Greg.

“Well, I said something to him- he claimed it must have happened at the cleaners and he didn’t notice it until he got to work. How do you not notice your BUTTON-UP SHIRT is missing buttons?”

“Sounds like big Rick got busy to me.” Nick accessed as he positioned the print tape over the evidence.

“QUACK QUACK QUACK.”

“Did you hear that?”

“You mean the sound of some feathered-poultry coming from the hallway that made me jump? Yeah, I heard it Greg.” Nick was officially pissed that the prints had just tried to lift were now compromised by his jerking at the noise.

“I’m gonna investigate- be back soon, man,” he said, as he entered out and into the hallway.

“QUACK QUACK QUACK.” The noise was coming from around the corridor.

As he turned the corner, Greg was met with one waddling ball of yellow fluff, and oddly enough, it had a pink post-it note stuck to it that read, “Cute- run duck, run!”

“Hey, little guy- what brings you to our fine establishment?”

Scooping the duckling up, he began going door-to-door, trying to find its owner.

Thirty minutes later, after a tongue lashing from a pissed off Ecklie (who knew ducks pooped on the spot when scared of bald icky dudes?), making Mia break out in hives (how would he have known that she was allergic to down?), and a stern look from Grissom followed by a “get it out of the lab NOW, Greg,” after it tried to attack his tarantula, he was still unable to locate anyone who claimed ownership.

Giving up, the young tech took his new friend to the break room to find some bread. “Well little guy- we can’t seem to find your parent. I think you need a name…. hmmm. LENNY! I loved my first pet fish named Lenny, but alas, he was taken too quickly and became one with the porcelain God. You could be my redo pet! Don’t worry, dude… I won’t flush you down the toilet. You’ll get a full backyard burial when it’s your time!”

Just as Greg started getting a little creepy, Brass strolled into the break room and grabbed some water.

“Hey Greg- what are you doing with Lindsay’s duck?”

“Lindsay’s? What’s it doing here?” Greg was saddened to know someone owned his new companion.

“Something about Cath having to drop it off at Lindsay’s school tomorrow morning so she brought it here tonight,” Brass said, checking out the fridge’s contents.

“Well, where’s Catherine at right now?” Greg asked, holding ‘Lenny’ to his chest as he fed him Hodge’s lunch.

“Out on a call. Apparently, while stealing from a blood bank, the thief was caught red-handed.”

“Well, I’ve got work to do here at the lab, so could you take Lenny here to her?”

“Sorry Greg- I’ve gotta ‘duck’ out and go to a dentist appointment,” Brass said, popping some gum in his mouth.

“Man that must suck… I can’t stand the dentist, but mom always made sure I went.”

“Well, you know what they say, Greg- be true to your teeth, or they will be false to you.”

“Ookaay… well, good luck with that.”

“Son, I've been to the dentist many times now, so I know the drill,” he called over his shoulder as he moved towards the exit.

“Dude- ok, WHAT is up with the non-stop pun fest?” asked Greg- getting Lenny some water and pouring it into a bowl.

“Hey - seven days without a pun makes one weak.” With his back to Greg and a smirk on his face, Brass was out the door.

- -

Sara caught Brass as he was walking out, and pressed a sticky note against his jacket front, then went to find Greg.

“Funny, hard worker, nice dresser” was what it read.

Damn… she must be drinking again. Gonna have to talk to Grissom about this. You should never drink beyond the pint of no return.

- -

After Punmaster Flex left, Greg called Cath and informed her that her ‘pet’ was safe with him, and they’d meet up in thirty minutes so she could take Lenny back.

Setting Lenny in the sink and drawing him a ‘bath,’ Greg turned around to see Sara, who walked up to him and stuck a post-it note, then left as quickly as she had arrived.

“Cute, infectious personality, great friend, dedicated learner” was the written note’s message. Uhh… did I miss national silent day? Sure wish Brass observed that holiday.

“Oh well… come on, Lenny, we’ve gotta see a stripper about a duck.”

- - -

As Sara walked down the hall, she ran into Warrick, stuck a note on his arm, and walked away.

“Smart, loyal, great dancer, missing some shirt buttons” was inscribed on the neon paper. Damn investigators. I’ve got to find Catherine and get into her truck, again…

-

As she passed his office, she saw him. Leaning against the doorframe of his office, he was busy flirting with one of the lab techs. The girl seemed to be squinting- probably because the light reflection from his bald spot was blinding her.

Sara slowed only enough to lightly stick the post it on the back of his jacket. She was careful with this one, wearing gloves to assure that there would be no trace.

He didn’t notice it until later when taking his jacket off to hang it up. Reading the note, his agitation was immediate…

“Ignorant, Arrogant, Dick-head, balding kiss ass with a degree obtained online”

Who the hell? And screw you- I graduated from The University of Las Vegas!

- -

By the time Warrick found Catherine, she was wrapping up her case at the blood bank.

“Cath? Catherine where you at?”

“Back of the truck, Warrick.”

He found her bent over her kit with her back to him. As if he didn’t get enough of that booty only hours earlier, his ‘manly’ impulsion gave way to desire and he grasped her ass with a hard squeeze.

Just as she was about to turn to chastise this bold public move, Brass strolled up with a smirk evident on his face.

“What’s going on here?”

Both guilty parties looked dumfounded and were equally speechless in front of the detective.

“Oh, come on now. Warrick? Can’t talk all of a sudden? What happened? Cat got your tongue?” Brass leaned against the Denali’s back door frame, enjoying the moment.

“I thought you had an appointment, Jim,” Catherine managed to say coherently.

“Yeah, the dentist… he was chomping at the bit to hurry up so it was quick. So, anything you two care to share?”

Warrick smiled hesitantly and eyed the cop… “We ah- we hope you know how to keep a secret?”

“Of course. Just a word of advice kids… Condoms should be used on every conceivable occasion.”

Oh Shit. They all three collectively thought as they left the scene.

- - -

Sara made her way to his office, the light was off, but the door was cracked. He was lying with a book over his face on the sofa; a light snore was the only sound in the room. She stalked over and gently placed the sticky note on his chest over his heart and quietly left the room.

- -

Hodges stopped mid-stride and smiled as he heard Led Zepplin’s “Black Dog” being strummed over the stereo in the night shift supervisor’s office. The blinds were closed- so he barged in the room to see Grissom in the middle of playing air guitar during the song’s hook.

Grissom paused- they exchanged a glance- and Hodges, being the BFF that he is with Grissom, took the liberty to toss the fetal pig jar to Grissom in time to co-sing the chorus to their makeshift mike. Hodges took the ending drum solo and Grissom continued to air-guitar his way through the song.

-

Grissom awoke with his headache worse, and through the groggy fading back into the present, he had to chuckle at the ridiculous dream. A duck in the lab, Sara’s notes on everyone, the atrocious puns coming from Brass, HODGES… he’d have to lay off the pastrami before shift from now on.

As he made his way off the couch slowly, a bright pink note fluttered to the floor. Bending and creaking to reach it, the reality hit him as he began to read the words printed.

“Brilliant, attractive, stubborn, emotionally cut-off; and yet- I still have feelings for you… -Sara”

- -

He found her under a car with only her shoes sticking out from under the vehicle’s front end while she was collecting evidence. Grissom got straight to the point.

“What’s the deal with the note, Sara?” he asked.

Anticipating a positive response, she shimmied out from under the car and sat up, wiping her brow and smiling. “My PEAP councilor suggested that I let everyone in my life know how I felt about them, and if I couldn’t say it aloud, then I should write it down.”

“My God… so you mean…”

“Yes...?” oh God- he is finally ready to do ‘this’!

“I really did sing with Hodges? Jesus!”

The End. Thank God.