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CSI Nightlife, a CSI Role Playing game.

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[11 Feb 2006|12:49am]

Who: Gil
Where: Layout Room
When: About the end of shift

Catherine was hunched over with Gil, her glasses on, trying to figure out a connection between two crimes. They knew they linked somewhere but the solution wasn't presenting itself very readily.

After four hours of staring, Cath finally took off her glasses and rubbed at her eyes. "We need to take a break. Come back at this with fresh eyes. I'm willing to work a double, but I have to do something other than stare at this for a while." Standing up straight, she stretched and arched her back.

"Come and get some coffee with me?" She tugged down her shirt after it rode up her sides, then looked up at him. "Maybe someone brought in bagels this morning..."
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New Beginings [10 Feb 2006|05:31pm]

Who: Anyone
What: Begining of Shift
Where: Break room

Aiden Burn sat at a table in the break room at the beginning of
shift. A cup of coffee in front of her she went from stirring the
steaming brew to chewing on the end of the swizzle stick and back
again. She hadn't been in Vegas that long and still felt very much on
the outside of things. Not that she would ever let anyone know that of
course. But she missed New York, missed her friends and colleagues.
Time, she thought, I just need to give it time.
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[18 Jan 2006|06:35pm]

[ mood | bored ]

WHO: Anyone!

WHERE: Layout room

WHEN: Middle of Shift.

And when Greg Sanders thought there couldn't be a job less exciting than dumpster duty...Collapse )

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[07 Jan 2006|09:53am]

Who: Whoever.
When: Whenever.
Where: LAB. Ha, I got you!

Sara's sitting in the locker room, swiping through her locker, growling in frustration. She'd had a little square box in her locker the day before... and now, it was missing. Perfect. Just perfect.

She could go to Ecklie, go to Grissom and report it, or ask the team if anyone had seen it- but NO, that would be such a bad idea. SUCH a bad idea.

She could just picture it now.
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[31 Dec 2005|12:02am]

Who: Gil
Where: A bar
When: After a double, so a night when they're actually off

Catherine had told Gil to meet her at Breezy's - a hole in the wall bar that she figured he'd appreciate. Not a lot of people around, and they could sit and unwind. She made it there before him and ordered a draft, taking a long sip. She was exhausted; their last case had proven to be the case from hell and she hadn't been home in two days except to take Lindsay to school. And even then, she'd only stopped in the driveway and honked.

Before she could go home though, she needed a drink. A moment to just sit and talk about anything other than work. With Gil. Which was probably going to be fruitless because God knew the man had a hard time carrying a conversation. Even with her all of these years later. But she still just needed him around. She hadn't asked anyone else to go with her, and if he'd said no, she would have gone home and ended up drinking alone.

She'd already finished one beer by the time he walked in, and she flashed him a warm smile, raising her now filled mug at him.
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[11 Dec 2005|09:04pm]

[ mood | exhausted ]

WHO: Anyone/No one. Random update.
WHERE: Trace Lab.


Jesus, just how late was he? Barreling through the crime lab's double doors he frantically looks around. Thank GOD he's not here. Grissom would skin him alive if he knew his work wasn't finished. Actually all Griss would have to do is give him 'that look'. H doesn't even have to say a damn word to express how he felt, you could just tell. Hell, you felt it. How infuriating is THAT.

Speed hurdles toward the elevators, grabbing the next one up. Flicking his arm out he checks his watch for the millionth time and he grumbles, swearing his watch was going much faster than time should allow. 11:15pm. Speed .. Speed was LATE.

For the moment luck was on his side, the halls appeared to be bare but just for the moment ..and he slunk inside the men's locker room. He had an extra shirt in his area but, of course, it was wrinkled. Although so is the one he's wearing now..plus Poe's scent..and fur was all over it so he shed the garment quickly and changed, still buttoning up the new attire. The new puppy would be the death of him. Throwing on a loose fitting long sleeved dark blue shirt and some baggy jeans he hauls himself out the door.

Speed bolted down to the trace lab, ducking and weaving through sporadic waves of people who barely noticed him. Crashing through the doors he groans, finally able to sit down on the stool as his fingers run through sweat-soaked curly hair. Chest heaving he realizes just how exhausted he is as his arms droop down to his sides, hanging limp.

Collecting himself as best he can he leans forward, forehead resting against the microscope as he peers into another slide. Arms resting on the table he slumps forward a little, trying to get comfortable. This case was tough. A little kid, a spider, and a sandbox. Timmy was currently sifting through a very large pile of sand for some kind of evidence. Anything that could move this case along.

To the untrained eye it looks as though Speed's still hard at work as usual. People pass by the clear glass doors of his lab, only mildly interested but they have their own work to do. If one were to step inside though, all they would hear is soft, content snoring of a very tired CSI.

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Yet another long night in the Las Vegas Crime Lab. [08 Dec 2005|07:04pm]

[ mood | discontent ]

Who: csi_catherine_w
Where: Grissom's Office
When: Graveyard shift, Early December

It may have been Las Vegas, but there was a definite chill in the air. Thanksgiving had passed and Christmas was around the corner, and as usual Grissom had spent the holiday doing paperwork and catching up on cases from 'the Board'. He was experiencing a bit of the holiday blahs. He missed his Mother and made a note to call her. Other than that, he was about as unattached as he could be.

He took his glasses off, set them on the stack of files and got up to check on Wyatt. The Mexican Red Kneed Tarantula was his office companion, and had been for a while. He scanned his shelves of oddities that he's collected over the years. The rookies had a hard time coming in here to visit him, the bottles and specimen containers gave more than one a case of the creeps. That and his propensity for taking blood from all new hires to use in experiments.

He stopped by his mini fridge and took out the jar of chocolate covered grasshoppers and shook a few out into his palm before replacing the container. He happily munched a few before he realized he was being watched.

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