DISCLAIMER: CSI and its characters are the property of Jerry Bruckheimer and CBS. No infringement intended.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
SPOILERS: Season seven episode 'Big Shots'.
Cellulose and...more cellulose
"That looks like a very desperate and ineffective attempt at cleaning yourself up."
Sofia interrupted rubbing her shirt front with damp tissues, looking up at Sara and then back down at the stained fabric. "It's not gonna work, is it?" she sighed.
"Nope, doesn't look like it," Sara confirmed. She tilted her head. "What does work, however, is the liquid making you eligible for a wet t-shirt contest. What happened anyway?"
Quickly folding her arms across her chest at the other woman's comment, the blonde supplied, "Mrs James decided to pull a drama queen when I wanted to speak to her son and threw her drink on me."
"Bitch. But, Sofia, red wine on a white shirt? Whatever made you think dabbing at it with a Kleenex would do the trick?" Sara smirked.
Sofia had unfolded her arms and absent-mindedly begun to pick tiny scraps of wet tissue off her shirt with one hand while still clutching said tissue with the other. "It was the best I could come up with. I have no spare clothes in my locker, and I have to go to court later. I'm so doomed," she said gloomily.
"I always have a few extra shirts in there, garbage dumps and human soup have taught me that. You can have one of those," Sara offered. Then she added with a small smile, "You already started wearing my stuff anyway."
The detective grinned. "You noticed, huh? Well, I'd be very grateful if you gave me something to wear so I don't give the impression of an alcoholic with very shaky hands."
"Not a problem," the brunette replied, "but first I have something else to give you." She reached into the back pocket of her jeans, produced a slightly crumpled something from it and handed it to the other woman.
Sofia raised an eyebrow. "Origami?" Then she narrowed her eyes. "What did Catherine tell you?"
"That you have a soft spot for paper napkins in odd shapes," Sara beamed. "Look at it, can you figure out what it is?"
Turning the little piece of art in her free hand, the blonde suddenly laughed. "It's a shotgun. How romantic. But you've already won me over, why would you ?" She paused. "Sara Sidle, are you making fun of me?"
The investigator dodged a soggy tissue ball flying her way. "Positive," she quipped when she resurfaced.
Sofia chuckled. "Well, at least it's distracting me from the unpleasant memory of McKeen flirting with me earlier."
Sara's eyes grew wide. "He did not."
"He did. 'How do I look?' and 'You got a big future in this department.' It was quite peculiar," Sofia mused.
"I'm gonna kill him."
"You can use my origami shotgun."
Sara's face split into a grin. "You like it, don't you? I so got you with it. When we're home later, I'll show you what else I can do with my fingers."
"I'll be a paper napkin in your hands."
"I didn't expect anything else."
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