DISCLAIMER: CSI and its characters are the property of Jerry Bruckheimer and CBS.
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I look around to see if there could possibly be another checkout lane open, but to my dismay, there is only the girl with the pink hair and facial piercings whose lane I am currently in. Glancing toward the front of the line, I note that I am number six, and several customers ahead of me have baskets full of groceries. If it wasn't for the fact that I have absolutely no food at my apartment, I would abandon this basket and go home.
My thoughts turn to lines in general and how our lives are in a sense ruled by them. Case in point, the one I am standing in. There are the lines on the road to keep us each in our own lane. Lines of text and prose engage our thought processes. Lines of clothing separate the different classes of society. Different lines of business allow individuals to choose their line of work, lines, lines, lines.
How would I use lines to describe my colleagues?
Starting with Greg, I see sort of a green curvy line. The curve represents the fact that at times he is all over the place. Green doesn't stand for jealousy, no it is for inexperience. He has come a long way, but he still has so much to learn.
Nick is true blue and solid.
Warrick's line would tend to be a little on the thin side as he has had trouble in the past getting his priorities straight, but I believe those days are behind him. Color wise, I think it would be very much the same as his eyes, gentle but kind of carefree and laidback.
Catherine is a tough one. Her line would definitely be straight. The color is a problem though. She is like one of those mood rings whose color constantly changes depending obviously on the person's mood. Most of the time, her line would be a vibrant color which has a tendency to draw people toward her. Even when her mood becomes stormy and her line a dark gray, there is still an attraction. It's just too bad for all the lesbians out there that her line is indeed straight.
Then there's Grissom. I can only associate him with a fine line as he always makes it perfectly clear to follow the evidence. He would never cross that line for any reason. Not to gain an advantage in a case and certainly not to take a chance on any type of personal relationship. I should know since he's shot me down more than once. Of course, now I'm glad he did. We would have never worked.
What can I say about myself? I think I could describe my line in the sense of crime scene tape. It's there to remind people to stay away, that a history of violence lurks on the other side. In my case, the violence was done to me instead of by me, but the warning is still appropriate. The demons tend to come back and haunt me at the worse possible times. No one should be near me when the darkness takes hold.
Sighing, I move up in the line and am relieved to see I am currently in position three behind a man with only three items and a woman with a full cart. I groan when I see pink haired girl flip the switch to turn on the light above her register. It seems the man has purchased something that is not in the computer, and the manager is needed so the rest of us get to wait until the problem is resolved.
I catch sight of one of those tabloid magazines that stores always put near the checkout for those people who can't wait to read the latest entertainment gossip. I can't imagine how someone can possibly believe the line of bull they spout. Shaking my head, I get a glimpse of a picture of some famous actress who is vacationing in the Cayman's, and from this distance, she sort of looks like Sofia.
Ah, Sofia. When she came on board as part of the team, I drew a heavy dark line to separate us. We would maintain our professionalism every time we worked together, but somewhere along the way, the line became a bit blurred. One of us would make some sort of comment that could actually be construed as flirting. It became kind of game with us after awhile to see who could throw an innuendo or two into a discussion about a case. I was just getting comfortable enough to drop my guard when she left.
Then she came back, and her line had changed. She was rough around the edges and had little to say at crime scenes. The one liners would still occasionally appear, but things were definitely different. When the werewolf case came up and I had to meet her at the scene, she fell back into our usual give and take banter. It completely threw me for a loop, and I was ill-prepared to respond to her.
The case involving the rappers changed everything. I found myself totally enchanted with her. I think the crowning moment was when she, Nick, and I went to that party. She was dressed all in black with those dark shades and strutted onto the scene like she owned the place. Sofia had finally found her niche. She was comfortable in her own skin, and it showed. Her line was drawn in the sand and not even the tide could wash it away.
I make it to the checkout counter and begin to place my items on the conveyor belt. I smile as I watch the few items my lover asked me to pick up move toward the checkout girl. Our two lines have finally crossed and become intertwined with each other. Next month, my lease will be up, and I will move in with Sofia. I look forward to the day when our lines become one.
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