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“Hi, I’m Billy.”

“No, you’re ugly!”

“Well, you’re uglier!”

Since the first time they’ve met when they were kids, they’ve always been fighting. They don’t know why, but they just seem to argue about anything and everything.

“I like blue”.

“Yellow’s better!”

As they grew older, they still fought about the smallest things. Their friends would shake their heads and marvel as to why they’re even acquainted with each other, since they fought about the smallest things. What they didn’t understand was that it wasn’t because they did it to hurt each other. On the contrary, it’s their way of showing affection.

“A movie sounds good just about now.”

“What do you mean movie? It’s better if we hit the mall and hang out!”

“Watching a movie is hanging out!”

“Says who?!”

When they started to see each other exclusively, that’s when things started to change. He started to accompany her shopping, and she went to his basketball games without arguing. It’s been a lot quieter since they became a couple. Things have really changed.

“I love you.”

“No, I love you more!”

And some things don’t.

Woot! I’m on a roll!^_^ This one’s not that great, but I had to write it down because it was bothering me since the concept’s dancing in my head.:P



Danny loves the smell of vanilla.

It reminds him of his childhood, when he and his friends used to run after the ice cream truck just for the cheap, 10-cent vanilla ice cream cone.

It reminds him of weekends, when his Mama would wear her favorite perfume and force Louie and Danny into their Sunday best to wear to church.

Best of all, it reminds him of Lindsay Monroe, whose scent reached to him even amidst the stink of the zoo, when they first met. Or maybe it was the girl herself who unknowingly drew the attention of a certain blue-eyed CSI.
Yep. He never would get tired of that smell.

As he opened the door of their shared office, he unconsciously took a deep breath to take in his favorite scent, and smelled…

“Strawberries?” He muttered incredulously, not knowing he spoke aloud until Lindsay turned around and gave him an embarrassed smile.

“You don’t like it? My sister gave me this lotion, and I didn’t want it to go to waste, so I just used it.” She gave him an uncertain look.

Danny smiled. He loves the smell of strawberries.

Another CSI:NY fanfic!^_^ It’s only a few days until they show the new season! Woohoo!

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Since it’s a Thursday, here’s a lite for you!


It’s a Thursday.


He hates Thursdays.


Thursdays are days of mockery, he always thought. They were made to taunt people that the weekend was almost there, but not quite, and there’s really nothing you could do about it.


He didn’t really see the point of Thursdays. Mondays are there to start the week, Wednesdays told you that you’re right smack in the middle, and Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays tell you that you could catch your breath and relax a little - unless it was exams week. Tuesdays were like Thursdays that didn’t have a point, but Thursdays are worse because they block your enjoyment of the weekend by being there.


Besides which, he always has Mr. Valdez for a teacher on Thursdays, and he was notorious on campus for being a terror teacher, giving pop quizzes and recitations when you least expected them.


Not to mention, he has lab classes on Thursdays, and it was only a good day for him when he manages to keep him and his partner from smoking and smelling of sulfur.


To cap it off, he never has a ride back home on Thursdays. His brother always manages to forget him after his basketball practice, so most of the time, he has to hoof it home.


Yep, Thursdays were the worst. If he could only…


“Hey, Jake! What are you doing sitting on the pavement? You know what, lab’s a killer! We’re really lucky we didn’t end mess up today, or we’d have smelled like rotten eggs again! Geez, and Mr. Anderson was looking at us. It’s not like we fail all the time, but the way he’s glaring…” As Lana plopped beside him and chattered on, Jake allows himself a small smile.


Maybe Thursdays weren’t so bad, after all.

Hope you liked it!^_^ I got the idea from a friend who said he hated Thursdays because they’re fake Fridays. Hahaha!


I’m Glad


“Hey Catherine, you have a minute?”

Catherine froze at the sound of the voice right behind her. She never thought she’d hear that voice ever again. Well, not ever, Catherine amended slightly. But not this soon. She left their old group some months ago because she didn’t agree with their ideals. She was only starting her own outreach program, and she was delighted with the results she was getting. Much more than what was happening with them, anyway. She knew that they were good people, really, but she didn’t believe in what they were doing, especially all the shady stuff that’s happening in the background. She wasn’t stupid, after all, and she knew what her principles were, what she was fighting for. She didn’t have the heart to confront her friends though, so instead of duking it out, she simply left.

Her face must have reflected her thoughts, because she heard someone say, “What, do I have dirt on my face or something?”

She forced a smile on her face. “Adam! It’s great seeing you again! Fancy meeting you here. Who would’ve thought I’d run into you in the public library? What a coincidence.”

“Coincidence? Haha! More like me remembering that you love being around dusty books!” Adam said teasingly, while searching her face. Catherine felt herself blushing. She felt no regret leaving the group, but the one thing that made her pause at that time was him. Their casual flirting and bantering brightened up her day, and there were times that she thought they could go one step further. And then she left. On her last day, she said goodbye to everyone, but not to him. It was too much, and she didn’t even know where to begin, so she opted to leave without saying anything to him.

He didn’t seem to hold that against her, though. He stood there, grinning broadly, as though nothing bad happened between them. It’s just like him, to always be positive. “How ya doing, Kitty?” He said cheerfully. He was the only one who called her that. Heck, he was the only one who gave her by a pet name, everyone else called her Catherine. “Can we go outside for a minute? The mustiness is enough to make me dizzy.” Not trusting her voice, she merely nodded and walked with him.

What do I say to him? She thought wildly. Sorry for leaving? I’m not sorry! I know that it was the best thing to do! Sorry not saying goodbye? Oh heck, that sounds stupid!

When they reached a stone bench, Adam turned to face her.

“Adam, I…”

“I’m proud of you,” he said softly, “and I’m glad you stood up for what you believe in.” And in so saying, he kissed her.

Here’s a Lite based on a dream I had last night. Hope you like it!^_^



Just trying my hand on a little CSI: NY fanfic.^_^ It’s all about Danny and Lindsay (but of course). The setting’s “Sleight of Hand”, Episode 18 of Season 3. I don’t have a title for it though. A little bit of help?

Footsteps can be heard in the hallway. The sandy-haired man saunters to the third door on the left. As he grabs the doorknob, he suddenly stops.


Okay, Messer, calm down, Danny thinks to himself, still gripping the doorknob. It’s not like there’s anything you can do now that you’re here. Who would’ve thought a country girl could have this kinda effect on me? At the thought, he chuckles. The guys at the lab would never have believed it. Flack would have a field day when he finds out I flew all the way to Montana. Hell, I can’t believe it myself. 


He glances at his watch. 1030. I’m an hour late. The trial’s started already. If I don’t go in now, my trip’s pretty much useless.


Still, he pauses, feeling unsure. Being unsure isn’t a familiar feeling for Danny, and he didn’t like it. Why the heck did I fly all the way to Montana? Maybe this is just the lack of sleep. Yeah, that’s it. The case with that magician must’ve gotten my head messed up. Mac did say to get some sleep, not get on a plane. Yet he knows deep down that lack of sleep is not the culprit, but something more, something he can’t explain, but definitely has something to do with the girl on the witness stand on the other side of the door.


Come on, Messer. You’ve trusted your instincts so far, so just go on with this, he sternly reminds himself. And if your instincts are wrong, you can always make the excuse that Stella wanted you to check up on Montana, he reminds himself. And so saying, he twists the doorknob.


He takes a look and cautiously steps in. Luckily, no one pays attention to him, except for the one on the witness stand. The one who matters.


She looks at him, her eyes widening. For a split-second, Danny wonders again if he made the right decision, and then she suddenly gives a small smile that appeared only for a moment, but he noticed it. He always notices everything that goes on with Lindsay. He gives a small smile in return, and heads off to an empty bench. He hears Lindsay’s voice ring out in the courtroom, narrating her ordeal. It quivers a few times, but she never falters. Danny feels proud of her, his Montana. She’s the only girl he knows who’s strong enough to do this, but he doesn’t know that the reason why she could do this was because of him. Danny Messer.

She finishes her testimony and gets off the stand. Slowly, but without hesitation, she walks to the bench where Danny is sitting. Danny gives a small smile, uncertain of what Lindsay would say to him. She smiles and sits beside him, and she takes hold of his hand and squeezes it, not the first time she’ll be doing it on that day.  He wraps an arm around her shoulders, and she leans her head on his shoulder. Identical, small, contented smiles appear on their faces.

Yeah, he wants to know what she would say, or maybe he just wants to hear her voice, but right now, words are not needed.




A footstep, a pause, a splash…



“Why did you do that for?!” growled Alfred, glaring up at Gail.

“What?” she said a little too innocently, holding her hands behind her back.

“Don’t ‘what’ me! What do you have behind your back?” Alfred said, making a fake swipe at her back. Getting into the game, he added, “And why did you throw a bucket of water at me for?”

“It’s not a bucket of water!” Gail mock-protested, and holding up what she was holding, she cried, “It’s just a glass! A glass!”

“Well, whatever,” Alfred grumbled. “There’s a better way of waking someone up, you know. You could’ve just tapped me or called me or something.”

“I wanted to make sure you’re awake, that’s all,” Gail said, grinning widely. “Besides, I wasn’t sure you were going to hear me, since you were snoring so loudly.”

“I don’t snore!” At this, the laugh Gail was holding in burst free, and she guffawed, while Alfred glared at her.

“You’re right, you don’t,” Gail finally wheezed out a few minutes later, wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes. “But you were muttering something while you were sleeping.”

“Really?” Alfred said, trying to appear disinterested but felt his heart suddenly start thumping.

“Yeah, you were muttering something like, ‘Nooo, this can’t be happening!’ What happened? Your teddy bear got stolen from you?” She said, grinning, but a note of concern in her voice.

Alfred turned red, remembering his dream of Gail hooking up with Josh, their other best friend. “Nothing much, yeah. I mean, dreams aren’t really real, are they?”

“I guess so…” She said slowly. “Hey,” she said suddenly. “You want to catch a movie or something? I heard the new Batman movie’s already showing.”

“Ok, sure,” Alfred said, “Just let me go and change my shirt since somebody,” and he gave Gail a mock glare, “poured water over me.” Gail rolled her eyes and mouthed, A glass of water, dude. A glass of water. “Anyway,” he continued, “why don’t you go and call Josh while I get changed, we’ll just meet him at the mall.”

“No!” At Alfred’s inquisitive look, she stammered, “Urm, you know, he might be busy or something. He’s not really a morning person, you know, so he might not even be awake yet.”

“Oh, okay,” Alfred said, smiling slowly. “Just stay here while I change, alright?” As he walked away, he thought, Maybe it’s time I find out if dreams are worth something, after all.

Storytelling Block


Sad.:( I wasn’t able to go with my friend’s dare to write two stories each month.:( I guess I’ve been too busy to write stuff. Anyone have any ideas on what I should write about?


Oh yeah, check out the “Lites” category to see the previous stories I’ve written. Warning: some of them are more than a little bit cheesy. Bear with me, these are just creative exercises.XD I do miss writing though, so I hope you can give me ideas on what I should try writing about. Thankies in advance!



Another Lite! It’s definitely not my best story, but I thought I’d try a different writing style. Please let me know what you think of this attempt.:)


A car rolled along the suburban streets. The vehicle was obviously a luxury car. Top of the class. And it fit right in the neighborhood. Affluent. Posh. The kind where you expect people to wear diamonds on a daily basis as though it were nothing.  The gates were tall, high enough that you cannot see what was behind those, and intimidating enough that you’d be scared of ringing the doorbell for whatever reason. What it cannot hide are the large houses, visible even with the barriers, as well as the neatly-trimmed trees that cannot have been made The streets were empty. No one was walking their dog, even with the lateness of the afternoon. No kids were running around as well. All in all, the place gives off a polished air that seems strangely empty.


The car slowly stopped in front of the most modest house in the neighborhood (yet still considered enormous in the outside world). Out of it stepped a young woman, wearing completely white, save for the huge shades she wore that covered half of her face.


Thank you for the ride, she said.


No, she’s ok.


No, she didn’t want anything else, but thanks for offering.


She slowly walked towards the gate, deactivating and reactivating the security as she stepped in. She proceeded on the path to the house. In front of the door, she paused, and then taking a deep breath, she turned the knob and walked in.


The house still looked the same.


The arrangement was exactly as she left it. The white sofa was tilted a little to the right, with the beige pillows invitingly fluffed, begging to be placed on someone’s lap. In the other room was the dining area. Like the


Just the way he liked it.


She shook her head, as if to clear it. As if to remove what entered her mind, she proceeded instead to the bedroom.


Bad idea.


The memories these evoke are more tangible. The white rug they picked out was there. His shaving equipment and his toothbrush are still in the connecting bathroom. The bed with its eggshell-colored sheets was there, but not bearing the indentation of his form. Worse was the smell. His scent lingered. She inhaled. She always loved that smell, more addicting than the Clinique Happy scent they both loved so much. Almost in a daze, she stepped to the closet and opened it. The scent was stronger, but all too soon, it faded. Too quickly, it seemed, as though to mock her that the only thread that held him there didn’t exist. She pulled out the blue plaid shirt, his favorite, an irony since he always preferred white over any other color. She held it in her hands. Tightly, as though it were her lifeline. Finally, her composure slipped, and she started sobbing. Quietly at first, and then steadily growing harder, until finally, her legs gave way and she collapsed on her knees, still sobbing, still clutching the shirt on her chest.


Why? Why did you have to leave?









Just a short Valentine’s lite gift for you guys.:)

Sorry, it’s not as happy as I said it would be.:( I’m not really in the mood to write happy stories right now.





Amanda looked up at the grinning face above her. Ordinarily, she would’ve smiled back at the brown-haired Alvin. This time though, she didn’t. Instead, she played with the stem of the rose in her hands.


“What’s wrong?” Alvin said, his smile fading. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I thought roses are your favorite.”


“I like them, thanks. It’s just that…” Amanda cleared her throat. “Well…”


“Did something happen?”


“No, it’s just…” Amanda cleared her throat again. What’s the deal between you and Katrina?” She said in a rush, as though she wanted to say it to get it over and done with, and that’s what she was feeling.


“Me and…” Alvin blinked, and then his grin re-appeared, wider than ever. “There’s nothing going on between us, Amanda. You know that, don’t you?”


“If I did, would I be asking now?” Amanda said. She tried to keep her lower lip from trembling, and she succeeded. Barely.


“Oh, come on, Amanda, don’t be jealous,” Alvin scoffed. “What made you think there’s something going on between us, anyway?”


“People have been talking…” Amanda mumbled.


“Since when did you care about what people thought? That’s not the Manda I know and love.”


Ordinarily, Amanda would have been pleased to hear Alvin saying he loves her, but not now. “Well… You spend more time with her than you do with your guy friends,” “And me”, she added in her mind.


“That’s because she’s a friend. Come on, Manda. We’ve been best friends since we were in kindergarten. What am I supposed to do, leave her now just because we’re together?”


“Just because?”


“You know that’s not what I mean,” Alvin said impatiently.  


“Then what do you mean?”


“Amanda, I love you. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have gone after you. You know that. If I wanted to be with her, then I would’ve a long time ago.”


“Exactly,” Amanda murmured, too softly.


“What do you mean by that?”


“Don’t you see, Alvin? Katrina’s in love with you, and I think she has been for the longest time.”


“You’ve got to be kidding me.”


“I’m not. One look in her eyes, and I knew. I thought at first she was just protective of you and that’s why she didn’t seem to like me when you introduced us, but now… She loves you, Alvin. And I think at the back of your mind, you know that too.”


“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Alvin repeated. “How can I know that? And besides, that can’t be true. We’re buddies.”


“Really, Alvin?” Amanda gave him a sad smile. “I might not have said anything before now, but just because I kept silent doesn’t mean that I haven’t noticed what’s going on.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve also seen the way you looked at her at times, Alvin. I think that in some way, you also do love her.”


“What?!” Alvin yelped. “Sure, I love her, but not in that way.”


“Yes, in that way,” Amanda mimicked him. “I guess I should know where I stand. After all, I was the one who got in between the two of you. If I didn’t enter the scene, you two probably would’ve hooked up sooner or later. No, please don’t interrupt,” she said, holding up a hand when Alvin opened his mouth. “Let me finish, because this will probably be the only time that I would be saying this. Maybe the reason why I was brought here was to make you two realize what you feel for each other…”


“Amanda,” Alvin practically pleaded, “I love you.”


“I know, Alvin, but who do you love more: me or her?” Amanda waited, but his only response was to bow down his head. “I see.”




“Alvin, I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but I do know one thing: that if I stayed here, three people would end up hurting. I already am right now, but at least we can stop this before it gets any deeper.”


“Amanda, please…”


“I know, Alvin. I know. I just… I think we have to get away from each other, for a short time. That way, you can sort through what you really feel, and I… I can try and find out who I am in the picture. If you went for her, I’ll understand. Believe me, I will. It’s going to hurt like heck, but I’m not going to force myself where I’m not wanted. If it’s me you choose, well… I’ll just be here waiting for you to come, alright. Take care of yourself now.” She turned, and started walking away.


“Oh, and Alvin?”


Alvin lifted his head, his face pale, and looked at her. “Yeah?” He managed to whisper.




“Sorry, what?”


“My favorites are tulips. It’s Katrina who loves roses.”




I just realized something: I haven’t written a single “Lite” for the longest time.:( I don’t want to use the excuse that I don’t have inspiration (if I did, my feature writing teacher - who doesn’t believe in that little thing called inspiration - would kill me!) I’ll try to come up with a short story these next few days. Wish me luck! And if you could give me suggestions - possible stories or continuation of my older ones - I’d really, really appreciate these.



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