Post by shiningzephyr on Mar 15, 2009 12:36:15 GMT -5
Well, I got two- no, make that a COUPLE- people who wanted me to bring over my Stetler drabble collection, so I have finally obliged. St. Patrick's Day is coming, so what better way that to do a SPD one-shot?
I don't own, you don't sue.
---
St. Patrick’s Day was the perfect day in the lab to pull pranks on one another if you weren’t wearing green. And it was already showing despite the eight o’clock hour in the lab. People exited off the elevator to the floor of the Crime Lab, wearing some sort of green clover or hat or something along those lines.
And for Horatio Caine, it was enough for him to wear a bracelet, of all things, on his wrist as to not attract attention to himself during the day’s case work.
Because almost every year, they got a call about some guy being a leprechaun and stealing gold from a bank. And chances were pretty high that it wasn’t about a theft. More along the lines of a murder.
Horatio adjusted his sunglasses in the bright sunlight and sighed, giving a look over the body with piercing eyes. He was in typical form; standing over it and blocking out the sun, watching Alexx give a run down of possible wounds he might have had due to self defense or cover-up for the real way he had died. But Horatio hadn’t heard a word she said.
His gaze was focused on the body, sure, but his ears were attuned to the footsteps behind him that belonged to a certain Internal Affairs agent.
Alexx stared up at her boss. “Horatio?”
He turned towards the source of the noise and raised an eyebrow at Stetler, who returned Horatio’s unwelcome glare. “Shut up. I don’t want to be here, and you should know that.”
“I didn’t say anything,” the redhead replied quietly, looking at his foe from head to toe. “I’m merely wondering something.”
Stetler snorted. “What?”
Horatio fingered his hand for a moment before reaching out and bringing his hand across Stetler with a resounding SLAP! The Internal Affairs agent clutched his arm in pain, gritting his teeth. “What the hell was that for?” he snarled, tears stinging his eyes.
“Happy St. Patrick’s Day, Rick,” he informed Stetler, a ghost of a smile on his face. “You’re not wearing green today.”
He jammed his hands into his pockets. “First off, you assaulted me. And secondly, you’re supposed to pinch me, for crying out loud!”
Horatio snorted this time. “Pinch you? I don’t pinch people like you. Be glad you only got a smack to the arm and not a poke in the eye.”
Oh, that hurt. That hurt more than the slap to the arm did.
I don't own, you don't sue.
---
17. Green
Well, he wasn’t wearing green…
St. Patrick’s Day was the perfect day in the lab to pull pranks on one another if you weren’t wearing green. And it was already showing despite the eight o’clock hour in the lab. People exited off the elevator to the floor of the Crime Lab, wearing some sort of green clover or hat or something along those lines.
And for Horatio Caine, it was enough for him to wear a bracelet, of all things, on his wrist as to not attract attention to himself during the day’s case work.
Because almost every year, they got a call about some guy being a leprechaun and stealing gold from a bank. And chances were pretty high that it wasn’t about a theft. More along the lines of a murder.
Horatio adjusted his sunglasses in the bright sunlight and sighed, giving a look over the body with piercing eyes. He was in typical form; standing over it and blocking out the sun, watching Alexx give a run down of possible wounds he might have had due to self defense or cover-up for the real way he had died. But Horatio hadn’t heard a word she said.
His gaze was focused on the body, sure, but his ears were attuned to the footsteps behind him that belonged to a certain Internal Affairs agent.
Alexx stared up at her boss. “Horatio?”
He turned towards the source of the noise and raised an eyebrow at Stetler, who returned Horatio’s unwelcome glare. “Shut up. I don’t want to be here, and you should know that.”
“I didn’t say anything,” the redhead replied quietly, looking at his foe from head to toe. “I’m merely wondering something.”
Stetler snorted. “What?”
Horatio fingered his hand for a moment before reaching out and bringing his hand across Stetler with a resounding SLAP! The Internal Affairs agent clutched his arm in pain, gritting his teeth. “What the hell was that for?” he snarled, tears stinging his eyes.
“Happy St. Patrick’s Day, Rick,” he informed Stetler, a ghost of a smile on his face. “You’re not wearing green today.”
He jammed his hands into his pockets. “First off, you assaulted me. And secondly, you’re supposed to pinch me, for crying out loud!”
Horatio snorted this time. “Pinch you? I don’t pinch people like you. Be glad you only got a smack to the arm and not a poke in the eye.”
Oh, that hurt. That hurt more than the slap to the arm did.