DISCLAIMER: None of the CSI characters belong to me, they all belong to CBS.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: It is not my intent to cause offense to any of the wonderful fanfic writers out there. I am in awe of all of your wonderful work and the way you manipulate our girls' lives. My muse was in a teasing mode and inspired by a question on the cathsara yahoo group about why fanfiction Sara always ends up being injured.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
The Rantings of a Fanfiction Character
By Riayn
"I think you need to leave," Sara says, angrily. "Yes, you, the one sitting at the computer. Leave now and take those fanfic writers and their muses with you."
"I am sick of you all interfering in my life. As soon as one of you shows up I am either shot, stabbed, beaten or raped. I have been admitted to the ICU at least a fifty times this year. The nurses there all know me by sight and have Catherine's number on speed dial. Also Grissom is starting to give me grief about the number of sick days I have taken."
"When I am not lying in a hospital bed, I am sitting alone in my apartment whilst you all tell me that I have no social life and that I might have one if I had any people skills. You have filled my past with tales of child abuse, rape, teenage pregnancy and hate crimes. Is it any wonder I have become an alcoholic? Or have I? Do I really crave alcohol or is this just another one of your ways to get me into bed with Catherine?"
"Did I hear my name?" Catherine inquires wandering into the room.
"Yeah, I was busy telling whatsaname here how I am sick and tired of having my life manipulated just so that I can have sex with you."
"Well, you gotta admit sex with me is pretty good."
"Sure, but why can't we have a conventional romance?"
"You have a point there; those fanfic writers hardly ever let me ask you out on a normal date. Instead I have to profess my undying love for you whilst being held hostage or when one of us is dying from a gunshot or knife wound. I seem to spend most of my life in hospital waiting rooms. Did you know that I have my own seat in the ICU waiting room?"
"Well, at least you don't have your very own respirator."
"True, and another thing I would like to bring up whilst we are having this little chat; what is it with your obsession with me performing a strip tease every time I want to have sex with Sara? I know it is a private fantasy of yours, but I am getting sick of it. It is really starting to kill the mood. Why can't Sara perform a strip tease for once huh? She must know all the moves by now."
"You want me to strip for you?" Sara asks incredulously.
"Can you two stop talking about your sex life for one minute?" Lindsay complains. "Oh," she says looking at you, "They're here again. Well, since you are here, do you know how confusing you make my life? One minute I am seven and then I am nine or maybe twelve. I was even sixteen the other week. Also will you stop using me to get my mom and Sara together? I am a kid and nothing is grosser than seeing your mother making out or worse hearing her have sex. I am a real person, you know, not just some plot device to improve my mother's sex life."
You notice that Catherine has turned a lovely shade of red and that Sara is looking like she wishes she was back in ICU.
"Can't you just leave us alone and let us run our own lives," Sara asks you, "How would you like it if we controlled your life?"
You think about telling them that it's their fault you failed chemistry or maths or English or that you have been late to work three times this week because you had to read just one more chapter. And that it is their fault that you haven't slept for the past week because you are having a writer's block and can't think of an original way for them to get together. But you don't. You simply close the browser window and let them get on with their lives. Besides, CSI is starting soon.
The End