Title: Watch Batteries and Bobby Dawson
Author: amazonqueenkate
Claim: Jacqui Franco
Fandom: CSI
Theme: (Set 2; #24, playboy)
Rating: PG-13, bordering on R
Summary: Jacqui would have a whole lot less of a problem with Bobby Dawson if she knew him better.
Author's Notes: Some humor for you. Vague Nick/Bobby references.

Bobby Dawson is gay.

Not happy gay. Bobby Dawson is "prance through the streets during the Pride Parade", "rainbow bumper sticker on the car", "never looked at or touched a woman in his most desperate high school days", "decorate the house in corresponding colors" gay. Open up the dictionary, look up the word, and Bobby Dawson's smiling face is the definition. No explanation – just Bobby's smile. That grin, for better or for worse, says it all: G-A-Y, gay.

This is not the problem.

Well, sure, it is a problem. Not in the "gays will ruin the world and then the terrorists will win" way, but in the "Jacqui Franco needs to get laid right fucking now" way. Not that Jacqui Franco is an impatient woman. Jacqui Franco has the patience of a saint, especially when it comes to sex. She's been four weeks without and it's amazing how well she puts up with the lack of attention. Actually, it's amazing how long a set of three watch batteries lasts. Same difference, really.

Bobby Dawson's gayness isn't the problem because Jacqui can put up with it. Jacqui can put up with it because Jacqui and Bobby aren't even really that close. They occasionally drink together (with a group), go out for breakfast together (with a group), hang out together (with a group), and smoke together on breaks (with a group). If they were better friends, or friends at all, maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe Jacqui could actually hate him for being queer, as backwards as that sounds. Or maybe she could hate him for something altogether different, like the content of his character. Instead, right now, she's stuck hating him for his kindness, and that's a really dumb thing to hate anyone for. Especially Robert Edward Dawson, Junior.

No, the real root of the problem is about five-foot-ten, 150 pounds, wears tight jeans and t-shirts, speaks with a drawl, and answers to the name of Stokes-comma-Nick.

Stokes is another one of those people Jacqui doesn't really have a problem with. His accent counts as irksome, his puritanical twitching qualifies as bothersome, and his relationship with Bobby Dawson…. Well, really, the basis of all the issues – good, bad, and ugly – is his relationship with Bobby Dawson. Because even if Jacqui doesn't know Bobby as well as she'd like (or not like) to, she knows the lab rumor mill like the back of her hand. She is, in fact, the first and last stop on the lab's underground gossip railroad. And lately, the Crime Lab Express has focused exclusively on one very hot, very naughty, very male-on-male subject: Nick Stokes and his overwhelmingly gay affair with Bobby Dawson.

Stokes and Bobby. Bobby and Stokes. Nick and Dawson. Dawson and Nick. Jacqui could go on for hours, rearranging their names like those cups in the "guess where the ball is hidden" carnival game. She's always been good at that game. She can keep her eye on the ball. In this case, though, one's the ball and one's the pain in the balls. A bad metaphor, being as she's a woman.

But, again, it's not a gay thing. Jacqui doesn't care if Stokes sleeps with women, men, sheep, or plastic children's toys. In fact, he can sleep with all four at the same time – a very varied orgy on his part – if he wants. If Jacqui cared any less about Stokes' sexuality, she'd be dead from pure, unfiltered ennui. But the fact of the matter is, he's a problem nonetheless.

He's the problem because Jacqui Franco needs to get laid right fucking now, in case you forgot. Jacqui Franco needs to get laid right fucking now by Robert Edward Dawson, Junior, and she has about as much chance of doing that as a snowball has in hell.

Thank god for long-lasting watch-batteries.