I was intrigued by Keskin Snape's fanfic challenge, and decided I needed a little fun and games to be goin' on. I didn't want to do it in chapters, but that's the way it came out. Here it is, folks.
well, the challenge is, you have to write this fanfic with this stuff
1. A victim or relative of a victim gives the CSI's a big chocolate cake in thanks for solving the crime.
2. The chocolate cake some how came into contact with 'certain herbs' (aka happy tabbacy/pot)
3. All five CSI's get stoned unknowingly.
4. GS stuff happens.
5. Rating can be anywhere from G to NC:17. Though I guess it can't be G because of drugs..."
"No, I can't say that I ever have." Nick was surprised at the question; O'Reilly wasn't usually the type to nose into other people's business. Even though it was only the one time, the last thing Nick was about to do would be to divulge such information to a cop, even one he was friends with. The strangeness of the question was enough to have him ask the other man why he asked such a thing.
"Good. Then you won't be tempted." O'Reilly didn't elaborate as he raised the yellow tape so Nick and Warrick could step underneath. Warrick gave Nick a funny look as Nick protested, "Hey, how come you didn't ask Warrick?!"
"Hey, you're the one with the frat background, champ!" Warrick playfully punched the other man on the shoulder as he spoke. The two friends walked into the warehouse to greet Grissom, and finally understood the tenure of the cop's questions. The whole place was nearly stacked to the gills with drug paraphernalia, from actual live plants to nearly 30 bales of packed marijuana. Whoever had run this place must have been fairly high up in the business to have this kind of place. Not that it mattered to him now, if he were one of the three dead men in the middle of the warehouse floor. Nick looked around him, and felt a sense of pride in himself. O'Reilly needn't have even bothered asking; he wasn't tempted in any way whatsoever. The fact, though unsurprising to him, did make him feel good about who he was and how he did his job.
"What a case!" Catherine's observation was echoed by the whole night shift, as they reflected on the events of the past week. During the course of their investigation, Grissom had placed all of them on the case at different intervals, trying desperately to get ahead of the evidence. Three more separate murders, a busted drug ring takeover, and 7 days later, they had the suspects in custody with enough evidence to put them in jail for a long, long time. With all the activity they'd been involved in recently, it was tough to settle down to what looked to be a quiet shift tonight. Grissom was proud of his crew. Not many people could look in the face of such temptation and come through it all without having examined their morals and made a tough decision. The sheriff, worried about the public's view of a corrupt police force, had handed them the entire case, including the evidence collection that would normally be handled by his force. At the end of the day, though, not one of the many bags of drugs had gone missing, nor had the copious amounts of cash they had found hidden throughout the warehouse.
"Well, you all did a great job, and I'm not just talking about the case solving." It was rare for Grissom to express his pride in his crew, but he felt they all needed it, after the pressure put on them not only from the Sheriff's office, but from themselves. Not to mention the fact that they'd broken up a takeover bid by one of the more powerful drug rings in Vegas. He wasn't the only one worried that they would be in danger from some kind of repercussion, but there wasn't much they could do about it until it happened.
"It's so quiet tonight, I'm not sure what to do with myself!" Warrick laughed as he leaned back on the couch, his lanky limbs stretched out before him.
"You could leave us some walking space, for a start," Nick teased, kicking at the other man's legs, trying to get past to sit down.
"Well, I don't know about the two of you, but I'm going to have some of this cake!" Sara had been eyeing the package they'd received an hour ago for the whole time she'd been in the breakroom, politely waiting for someone else to advance on it first. The note said the cake was a gift from Mrs. Fallow, the grandmother of one of the victims found in the warehouse. She had been particularly helpful in the case, and they'd come back to her often for insights into her grandson's actions leading up to his murder. Sara's patience had finally run out with the anxious growling of her stomach.
"There's cake here?" Greg's voice came from the direction of the breakroom doorway.
"No, Greg--it's a bomb!!" Sara said in mock seriousness. "Run and get Brass, will you?" Sara reached into a pocket and slipped on some gloves, hoping to convince Greg that she wasn't joking. She dared not look at him, knowing she'd probably burst out laughing and give herself away.
"A bomb?!" Greg wasn't fooled, but he knew a good chance when he saw it. "Let me rescue you, fair maiden!" Pushing past an amused Catherine, he rushed to her side and made to push her out of the 'blast radius.' The two of them tripped over Warrick's outstretched legs, however, and managed to land on both Warrick and Nick. This sight was what greeted Grissom as he turned around from making himself a cup of fresh coffee. He shocked himself with the rush of pure jealousy that came over him. He opened his mouth to say something, but realized that anything he could come up with would probably sound snitty. Besides, they all did work pretty hard the past week, and deserved to have a little fun. The thought did nothing to relieve his tension, however.
"Sara--Oof!" Nick was interrupted by Greg and Sara's attempts to extricate themselves from the couch. "Exactly what were you planning to use those gloves on?" He looked down into her eyes, as she stopped struggling to let Greg get up first. Nick waggled his eyebrows suggestively for a moment, and then his peripheral vision caught Grissom's thunderous look. He stood up, the better to help Sara up faster. He had guessed at her feelings for Grissom the year before, and watched their interactions with interest ever since. He had come to the conclusion that their boss returned her feelings. What he couldn't figure out, though, was how neither of them realized how the other felt.
"Mmmmm this cake is good! You sure you don't want some, Nick?" Sara sighed appreciatively as she slid another forkful of the German Chocolate cake into her mouth.
"Pretty sure, Sara. I'm just not into the sauerkraut-in-cake thing." Nick shuddered.
"Ohh, you're missing out, Nicky," Catherine chimed in, rolling her eyes in the air for emphasis.
"Yeah, even Grissom's enjoying his piece!" Greg spoke as though the thought of Grissom enjoying anything was a shocker.
"Don't push it, 'Greggo.'" Grissom wasn't sure he was ready to forget the lab tech's antics from earlier. "This cake is pretty good, though."
"Nick, you'd probably even turn up your nose at carrotcake, don't you?" Warrick laughed as Nick wrinkled his nose. He teased the Texan a bit more, "Man, I thought Southerners were known for good cooking!" He took another heaping bite of the cake, savoring every bit of the moist dessert.
Sara finished her piece and frowned petulantly. The stress of the past couple of days had melted away, leaving a feeling of general well-being that she decided suited her liking very well. Having been the first one who had sat down with cake, she had finished hers first, and now had the unenviable position of having to look on while the other CSI's (and one happy lab tech) continued to enjoy theirs. Grissom had been the last to sit down--shocking her by taking the seat next to hers instead of the one across the table--and therefore had the most cake left. She studied him, her fork playing with the crumbs left on her paper plate. Grissom, she decided, was the type to take his pleasures slow, and savor them. Sara blushed as she realized what she'd just thought to herself. She felt her body grow warm as the images, unbidden, began to fly through her head. Sara stretched her arms above her head, trying to rid herself of her torrid thoughts. She suddenly giggled as a different thought came to her. Lowering the hand holding her fork, she glided it ever so slowly toward Grissom's plate, watching his face intently. He didn't look over until she had the incriminating bite of cake firmly lodged in the tines.
"Are you stealing from me?!" Grissom touched his fist to his chest as though mortally wounded, and watched with mock horror as she slipped the stolen morsel of cake through her lips.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Sara mumbled through the mouthful of cake.
"Well, I'd steal back, but you were a pig and ate all of yours!" Grissom was feeling mighty relaxed, and for once he didn't bother asking himself why. He simply let himself revel in the once familiar banter between them.
"Oh, a PIG am I?" Sara knew he was teasing, and the adorable cross look on his face made her giggle. "Well, since you seem to see that as a bad thing, I'll just take the rest of your..." Sara reached out and tried to grab Grissom's plateful of cake, but he managed to raise it above her grasp while she struggled with him. All of a sudden his grip on it failed, and the plate and coveted cake fell towards the floor. All eyes watched in shock but one's, and Nick gave a crow of delight as the cake made a soft landing on his plate.
"Finder's keepers, loser's weepers!" Nick eyed his new treasure.
"Say, Nick?" Grissom's voice had a dangerous quality to it. "You uh, still want that promotion?" Nick turned around to see his boss looking at him speculatively over the top of his glasses. 'He's kidding, right?' He didn't look like he was kidding.
"Are you offering me the promotion for this piece of cake right here?" He asked bravely, all the while avoiding Sara's eyes.
"Are you trying to bribe me, Nick?" Grissom had to work hard to hold his disapproving glare on the younger man.
"I, uh..." Nick looked around the table at his fellow night-shifters. Catherine was watching the scene unfold with amusement, Warrick was shaking his head at his audacity, and Greg was too busy munching on 'his precioussss' to bother paying any attention to them.
"I believe you dropped this," Nick said, holding the plate of contraband out to the senior CSI.
"Why, thank you, Nick. I believe I'll go finish my cake in my office, if that's ok with the rest of you..." Grissom made as if to leave, but Sara's challenging tone of voice stopped him in his tracks.
"I can't vouch for your safety if you leave the room with that plate, Griss."
"Yeah, I do believe the breakroom is the only safe place to eat that," Nick chimed in.
"You see how it is," Sara went on, "if you leave the room, both you and that plate of cake become fair game." Sara realized the meaning of what she just said, and she blushed.
"You aren't serious." Grissom shook his head, and turned around to head out the door. The sound of scraping chairs chorused in his ears as he looked back to see his crew all standing, waiting for him to move out of the doorway into the hall. "What, you are all going to...accost me for this piece of cake??" Grissom felt as though he was in a dream, and a very strange one at that.
"Naw, we wouldn't attack you Griss, we'd just... rough you up a little," Warrick said, cracking his knuckles.
"Guys?" Greg's voice cut through the sudden tension. "Did you know there's one piece of cake left?" Greg would have laughed if he wasn't so woozy. One by one, heads turned in his direction and focused on the open carton that held the last piece of German Chocolate cake.
"Now, before we go all crazy," started Catherine, heading towards the counter, "I suggest we have some sort of, I dunno, competition for the last piece of cake."
"You mean before we all start protesting, 'I'm the senior CSI,' or 'I broke the case, I should get the cake?'" asked Warrick.
"Exactly." Catherine nodded her head.
"Well, what kind of competition were you thinking of, Cath?" Sara spoke with enthusiasm. If it had anything to do with their skills as a CSI, she'd be eating that last piece of cake in no time.
"Well, before you get too excited, Sara," Catherine hadn't missed the younger woman's interest. "I think it shouldn't have to do with anything that we're especially talented in."
"What kind of competition would that be, then Catherine?" Nick was hoping she didn't mean what it sounded like she meant. "You want to base this off of sheer luck?" That wouldn't bode well for him. Nick was about as lucky as the last man left on the Titanic.
"Not necessarily," Catherine said with a smile.