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Postcards From the Edge of a Life

copyright 2003, by Sheinbaum

Disclaimer:    CSI and it's characters were created by Anthony E. Zuiker.  They are used herein without permission, but in the spirit of admiration and respect.  No infringement of copyright is intended, and no profit, of any kind, is made by the creator, maintainer or contributors to this site.

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“You got plans?”


“You want to get a beer?”


She’ll want me to talk about it, but going home alone would be worse.
She drives in silence for a few minutes and then glances over.

“You alright?”


She nods, focused on the road ahead. Another long silence before glancing back over.

“So, how did it go back there?”

“It went fine.” Might as well go ahead and get it over with. “I, um... I won’t be seeing Hank anymore.”

She nods again. Her voice is soft when she speaks.

“I’m sorry.” A pause. Another galnce.

God, do we have to do this?

“You know I’ve been there. If you need...”


“Yeah, ok. I just...I’m here.”

Suddenly that seems important.


She looks over again and smiles, then returns her attention to the road.

“So, where to?”


“Anywhere but home.”

“That gives me a lot of options. You sure you don’t wanna narrow the field just a little?”


She grins and lapses into a comfortable silence for the rest of the drive to a small bar just off the Strip.

“Come on, I’ll buy you a beer.”

“I’ll take it.”

The bar is cool and dark, and practically deserted at this time of day. She leads the way to a small table near the back, calling an order to the bartender as she passes.

“This alright?” she asks, pulling out a chair.


A rueful smile curls her lips as she looks across the table.

“I remember when I found out that Eddie was seeing another woman...” She snorts. “...several actually.” She shrugs. “He was a real louse.”

A surge of grief clouds her features, and she looks down.

“Catherine, I’m sorry I couldn’t...”

“I know.” She stops, steadies the tremor in her voice. “It happens. It’s just a shame it had to happen this time.”

“I... yeah.”

“Look, this isn’t what I had in mind when I suggested a beer.”

No, but this is safer.

“I know.” A pause. “I’m not sure I’m up for...” The words trail off.

She holds up her hands.

“No pressure, just... company.”

“Company’s good.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Company’s enough.”

She nods and then raises her glass.

“To company.”

Glass clinks against glass.




Part 1 of 9

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copyright 2003, by Sheinbaum

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