Disclaimer: As you can guess, I don't own CSI or any of the characters.

Summary: Greg has a lot of questions for Sara in the interrogation room. SaraGreg

Rating: K+

A/N: Well, I had actually written this story in German, taking a linguistic break, but then I thought that it would be kind of pointless to post it in German. So you get the doubtful pleasure of a translated fic.

Speaking of that: I'm searching for somebody who would betaread my stuff. That would be very nice.

Enough babbling on my part…

Interrogations

Greg yawned.

Sara looked at him sympathetically. "When were you at home the last time? It's a while ago, isn't it?"

Greg looked at her out of tired eyes. "Home? What's that?"

He folded his arms on the table in front of him and laid his head on them comfortably, looking up at Sara.

Brass had just led away the suspect, after they had been able to pin him on the double homicide that had kept both Greg and Sara very busy for days. Now they both were still sitting overtired in the interrogation room.

Sara rubbed her eyes and stared at Greg for a few seconds, before she realized what she was doing, and looked away into the emptiness of the room before her.

"Overwork," said Greg simply.

"Yeah, but you should be used to that by now."

Greg looked at her expectantly, as if waiting for her to say more. When she did not do so, he sat up again and leaned back in his chair. "I didn't really talk about me."

Sara raised her eyebrows. "So?"

Greg's expression mirrored Sara's. He smiled at her broadly and jumped up. He walked slowly around the table and was now standing opposite of Sara. He leaned over the table until he was at her eyelevel.

"We're talking about you, Ms. Sidle," he said in a cool tone that did fit him so little that Sara could hardly refrain from laughing, still wondering what he was up to.

"Are we?"

Without answering, Greg straightened and strode slowly around the table once again and stopped next to Sara this time. He leaned next to her on the table and looked at her from the side. "What we'd like to know is," he continued in the same manner as before, "Why have you just stared at Greg Sanders in this way?"

Sara suppressed laughing again.

"Speaking of that: Why do you regularly gaze at Greg Sanders during the pre-shift meeting?" Greg looked at her intensively, eyes narrowed, though he hardly seemed able to suppress a grin. Sara chuckled shortly.

"And during breakfast?" Greg continued.

Now Sara was looking in the other direction, embarrassed, but Greg sprang to her other side, the tiredness of before obviously gone. Sara glanced nervously behind her and wondered what would happen, if somebody saw Greg jumping around her. After all, everybody could look into the room from the outside.

Then Greg caught her attention again. "Why do you need so long in the locker room after shift? Do you aim at snatching secret glances at Greg Sanders?"

Sara laughed. "You're nuts." Hiding it. Denying it. That was the plan.

"And why then, did you see everything in the decontamination shower? Does that not prove everything?"

Sara did not answer. Think of something.

"And we can go back even further. Why-," Greg's voice got a little more serious now, in the way of really serious, not playfully serious as before, "why did you release intimate knowledge about Greg Sanders?" Greg's voice was not as acted cool as before now.

"What do you mean?" Sara frowned, her mind racing through all issues Greg could possibly speaking of, and coming up with -

"Have you, Ms. Sidle, revealed to lab tech Mia that Greg Sanders did not lose his virginity before he was 22?" Greg was talking quietly now.

Sara looked downwards. Distract him. Win time. "Greg, could you please stop talking about yourself in third person? And could you please stop addressing me so formally and calling me 'Ms. Sidle'?"

When Greg did not say anything, she continued sighing, "I'll even answer your questions."

"Every? " Greg asked hopefully.

Sara looked at him and smiled briefly. "We'll see."

Greg had sat down on the table and looked at Sara expectantly, who caught herself once again gazing at him.

Sara shook her head semiconsciously. That was only the fatigue.

Greg frowned. "What's up? I thought-,"

Sara interrupted him. "Could we maybe take that somewhere else? I don't feel well here." She gestured indeterminately into the general direction of the interrogation room.

Greg smiled and Sara had to admit to herself that it could not have been the tiredness that had made her search Greg's gaze again and again in the previous days. Search it inconspicuously. Pretend it happened coincidentally that their glances met.

"Well," Greg said now, "it is not really standard practice that the suspects decide where the interrogations take place, but I think we can make an exception here."

Sara grimaced at the sight of Greg continuing his play.

"Uh," Greg put up a determined expression, "Now I will take you, conduct you, … whatever… to get some coffee."

They had both seated themselves in a corner of the café, in which they were barely to see from the rest of the room.

"So, I'd like to have some answers now," Greg demanded impishly.

It seemed as if Sara wanted to reply, but in this moment the waitress came to their table and put two cups of coffee in front of Greg and Sara.

Sara used the opportunity to postpone an answer further and took a large gulp out of her cup.

Greg noticed now clearly that it was obviously uncomfortable for Sara to answer his questions and while he had taken the risk in the interrogation room to keep up his play in order to tease some answers out of Sara, he thought it now a better idea to enjoy their time together and not to continue asking her questions she obviously did not want to answer and to possibly annoy her with it.

So he took a sip from his coffee as well and chatted about some innocuous topics, as if he had completely forgotten about all his questions before.

Sara frowned, and Greg guessed that it was because of his sudden change of topic.

Some time later though, their cups were long empty, Sara suddenly looked at Greg intensively.

She took a deep breathe. "That you've lost your virginity not before you were 22 just… slipped me, while talking to Mia. I had really not wanted to tell her that, I mean I wouldn't do that, that's really private after all, but I just could not keep my mouth shut, when we were, well, gossiping, I don't know, I'm usually not so great with smalltalk with people I hardly know, but I and Mia were just having some fun – yeah, Greg, you don't need to look so unbelieving, I'm able to have fun, … and, well, there it just… slipped me."

Sara looked sideward, a little embarrassed. "And what I wanted to say with these many words: I'm sorry. I should've kept my mouth shut. I'm so sorry."

Before Greg could ensure her that all of that was not so bad at all and that he had more asked out of mere curiosity, Sara already continued talking.

"I saw everything in the decontamination shower because … I was worried for you and turned around to check on you. Later I was a little embarrassed because I had well, violated your privacy, kinda, I tried to help myself over it with my comment, and I mean, you started talking about it."

She had been worried for him. Greg remembered how his gaze had wandered to Sara for a short moment, too, after he had been told to turn around. It had been instinct, in a way. A short moment of instinct to ensure that Sara was okay. But before he had actually seen anything, he had squeezed his eyes shut.

"And in the locker room… I often need so long there because I hope to talk to you. You know, on some days we hardly see each other, when we're both out on different cases, and well, then I miss talking to you." Sara stopped briefly, as Greg was now grinning broadly.

"And why I stare at you - as you call it - well… ," Sara left her sentence unfinished.

Greg had already heard enough und counted one and one together.

"Well, I did not expect a full confession anyway and I think we can work with what we have so far. You have said enough, Ms. Sidle." He smiled at her, some mischievousness in is expression.

Sara, relieved that Greg was apparently not mad because of her blunder with Mia and neither upsetbecause of the rest she had said, grinned now lightly as well at his demeanor. "And, are you going to arrest me now?"

There was a sparkle in Greg's eyes, when he stood up and came over to her. Hoping that he had interpreted correctly what she had said, he sat down on the seat next to her.

"Well," he placed his arms on either side of Sara on the backrest behind her so that she was sitting between them. "I think I just did that. Resistance is futile."

Sara had to agree silently.

"Can I still demand something?" she asked with raised eyebrows.

Greg's heart was pounding hardhe was afraid that he had just done exactly the wrong thing. Feeling very uncomfortable, he answered, ready to back away again, "Yeah, you can."

"I'd like to have a kiss, if that's feasible," Sara was saying now.

Greg looked at her, grinning. "Oh, sure," he declared enthusiastically and fulfilled her wish. And Sara had to agree with him silently again.

"Can I ask some questions, too?" she asked slightly grinning some minutes later. Greg nodded in anticipation.

"Why didn't you answer me, when I asked you during your proficiency case if we're going out to celebrate?"

Greg's mouth fell open. "You asked-?"

Sara nodded, laughing. She loved to do that. "Second: Are you sure you 'didn't see anything'?"

When Greg wanted to babble an answer, Sara held up a hand to stop him. She leaned close to him and asked whispering, "And last: What is that, what you're dreaming about?"

End