Author’s Note:

The characters of CSI were created by A. Zuiker, and are the property of CBS and its affiliates.  All other characters depicted in this story are fictional; they are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author.  Although the locales in this story are real, all events, incidents and characters are pure invention.  
© March 2004. LSI.

This story is in response to the Improv challenge at Unbound.  The first and last lines are provided, and the story cannot exceed 1,000 words.

I Still Have It, by Jim Brass

“So how much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?” I asked.

“Yeah, exactly.  Another question for which there is no answer,” Sara said, following my quirky logic without missing a beat.

I looked at her curiously.  “You don’t think?”

“Well no.  The amount of wood a woodchuck could chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood would depend on the woodchuck’s size and metabolism.”

I chuckled.  “You don’t say.”

“I do say,” she responded with her trademark smile.  She touched my arm and I winked at her before she left me at the water-cooler.  I watched her walk away, very aware of her effect on me.

I liked Sara.  A lot.  Perhaps it was because, unlike the others, she’d never worked for me.  My relationship with the others had been strained for a while, not that they had made it difficult, but I did carry my embarrassment over being demoted for quite some time.  All that was behind me now, but I still felt more at ease around Sara.

But there was more to it than that.  I knew it.

She intrigued me.  And when she smiled at me like that, I found myself wishing I were fifteen years younger.

“Jim?”

I had to shake myself before facing a very quizzical-looking Grissom.

“Uh…yeah, what’s up, Gil?”

“Were you flirting with her just now?”      

Gil’s tone was deceptively mild, saccharine almost, but I tasted the bitter undercurrent of disapproval in it, and it annoyed me.  It was no secret that Grissom and Sara had a soft-spot for each other.  In fact, after what I witnessed in interrogation with Dr. Lurie a few weeks ago, I strongly suspected that the soft-spot was just the tip of the iceberg with these two.  And it was beyond my comprehension how any man could choose to simply walk away from that.  Walk away from her.

Or had he?     

Hmm.  I had assumed that Grissom was an idiot, but perhaps I was the idiot.  I couldn’t think of two people more capable of carrying on an affair without anyone suspecting it.  But then, I couldn’t think of anyone more capable of outsmarting Gil Grissom than me.  After all, I didn’t make it to head of this unit a few years ago on my good looks alone.

So I cleared my throat and lowered my voice.  “Actually, Gil, I think she was flirting with me.”

Gil narrowed his eyes and threw me a ‘in your dreams’ look.

“What?  You don’t think it’s possible?”

His response was a derisive curl of the lip as he took off for the break room. 

I followed, of course.  I eyed him with barely concealed amusement as he took a whiff from the coffee pot, grimaced, and then emptied its content in the sink.  He opened drawers, retrieved a new filter, dumped fresh coffee grounds in it, and filled the carafe with water.

I recognized a flustered man when I saw one, and my friend Gil was flustered.  So, using an old interrogation technique, I entered his personal space. 

“Gil,” I murmured, keeping my voice deliberately low, as if I was taking him into my confidence, “I think she’s interested in me.” 

Gil lifted his eyes to the ceiling and white-knuckled the edge of the counter.

“No, no, listen,” I said, my voice reduced to a near whisper now.  “I know how unbelievable this sounds, I mean, it’s Sara we’re talking about and she’s well…hot, but the other day, we had a nice chat and I think…I think we connected.”

Gil threw me a glance.  “A chat about what?”

“Oh, well that’s private, but the point is, I believe if I asked her out, she’d say yes.”

He glared at me.  “You want to ask her out?”

I grinned and raised a brow suggestively.  I was having so much fun.  “Well, who wouldn’t?  And did you see the way she smiled at me?  When she smiles at me like that, man, I’ve got to tell you, it puts some very naughty ideas in my head—“ 

Okay, I didn’t see the cupboard door coming at me, but jeez, I felt it.  “Dammit, Gil, what are you trying to do?  Kill me?”

Without so much as an apology, he took a mug out of the cupboard and banged it down on the counter.  “Next time, Jim, keep your distance.”

A little dazed, I went to sit down.  When I touched my forehead, I could definitely feel a lump there.  I didn’t think he’d done this on purpose, at least not consciously, but the mind was a very tricky thing.

Then, Gil went to the refrigerator, took out an ice pack, and threw it at me.  “Here, put that on your head,” he told me as he marched to the door.  And then he stopped and gave me a glacial look.  “And when you’re done, Jim, shove it down your pants and cool off.  Sara’s not available.” 

I laughed.  I still have it, I thought, and then winced as I put the ice pack against my head.

The End