Disclaimer: If it's familiar to you, it doesn't belong to me.

A/N: Just some random thoughts I had.

Catherine sat alone in the break room, drinking coffee and browsing the newspaper, waiting for everyone else to arrive and for shift to begin. She looked up when she heard footsteps, and watched as Nick and Sara entered, Sara going to sit on the couch, Nick heading in the opposite direction toward the coffee machine. Nick poured a cup of coffee for himself and sat down at the table across from Catherine.

"You reading the sports page?" he asked her.

"Uh, no." She pulled the sports section from the paper and handed it to him.

"Thanks." He proceeded to read without another word.

Before Catherine had any time to process the odd behavior between her two coworkers, Warrick came sauntering in, but slowed to a stop in the middle of the room when he realized it was silent despite it being occupied by three people he knew had no problems keeping a conversation going. He glanced at Nick at the table, and then at Sara sitting by herself on the couch. He looked at Catherine and raised a curious eyebrow, but her only response was a shrug. He poured himself some coffee before going to sit next to Sara.

Grissom walked in a few seconds later and broke the silence. "Okay, we have a 419 and a…" he glanced down at the two assignment slips in his hand, "419." He noticed his team had conveniently divided themselves up. "The Strip for you two," he said to Nick and Catherine as he handed Nick the assignment slip, "and Green Valley for us," he said to Warrick and Sara. "I'll meet you guys outside, I need to talk to Doc Robbins before we go," he told them before leaving.

As Nick and Catherine made their way out, Sara headed for the coffee machine. Warrick followed her and leaned against the counter next to her as she poured.

"What'd he do?" Warrick asked, his question prompted by Nick and Sara's behavior.

"Nothing," she answered, knowing Warrick would know she was lying but not really wanting to get into it.

"Want me to kick his ass?" Warrick asked in a playful tone.

Sara couldn't help but smile. "I'm driving," was all she said.

"So is that a yes?" Warrick called out as Sara walked out of the break room and down the hall.

"What did you do?" Catherine asked Nick as soon as they stepped outside.

"Why does it have to be my fault?"

Catherine gave him a look, like he'd just asked a stupid question.

"It wasn't even that big a deal," Nick confessed. "She's just overreacting."

"Right."

"Wait, hold on." Nick suddenly had an idea as he stopped next to one of the Denalis.

Catherine rolled her eyes when she saw what he was doing. "Would you come on? That's not going to do anything anyway."

"Well we'll see." Nick's tone was confident as he followed Catherine to their own vehicle.

"I think you need to file a vandalism report," Warrick said as he looked at one of the windows on the passenger side of Sara's Denali.

"Why? What happened?" Sara came around to see what Warrick was looking at.

"Or at least get this thing washed," Warrick continued, trying not to laugh.

Sara rolled her eyes when she saw 'Nick loves Sara' written by someone's finger on the dusty window. She had to admit she found the gesture cute but she was still mad at him. She used her hand to erase the words.

"He must have really messed up, to try something this lame," Warrick quipped.

"Let's go," was all she said as she walked around to the driver's side.

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Nick pushed open the locker room door to find only one person inside. "Hey." His tone was indifferent.

"Hey," Sara responded, not turning around.

Nick leaned against the bay of lockers and crossed his arms, watching Sara rummage through her locker, as if he was expecting her to say something.

"What?" Sara finally turned to him with a raised eyebrow, acting like she didn't know what he wanted.

Nick let out an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes as he stepped past her to reach his own locker.

"It's your fault, you know," Sara finally spoke.

"Okay maybe partly," Nick conceded. "But I'm not taking full blame. Only fifty percent."

Sara didn't glance in his direction or say anything as she peeled off her shirt, damp with sweat from having to process a non-air conditioned high school gym after a basketball game had just been played in it.

"Fine, sixty," he bargained.

Silence.

"Okay, seventy five. That's my final offer," Nick adamantly replied as he crossed his arms and glared at her.

Sara finally turned to him as a small smile crept to her lips. She figured he'd suffered enough, especially since she felt it really wasn't entirely Nick's fault. She draped her arms over his shoulders and leaned in to kiss him. "Eighty."

"No-"

"Eighty and maybe I'll model that certain lacy black garment for you later," she raised an eyebrow.

"Deal," Nick quickly replied with a grin.

Sara rolled her eyes. "Men are so easy to please." She reached into her locker to retrieve a dry shirt, but before she could put it on, Nick enveloped her in a bear hug, planting kisses along her neck. "Nick, I'm all sticky," she protested as she wriggled free to put her shirt on.

"I like a sweaty girl," he teased.

She shut her locker and turned around. "Girls don't sweat, they glisten."

"Well you glisten nicely," he smiled as he wrapped his arms around Sara's waist, and this time she didn't attempt to free herself. But their kiss was quickly interrupted by the opening of the locker room door.

"Hey, have you guys seen Griss? He's not answering his cell," Warrick asked, his head poking inside the room.

"No," Nick replied.

"Okay, thanks." Warrick closed the door.

Just as their lips reconnected, the door opened again.

"Well if you see him, can you-"

"Rick," Nick warned, annoyed by the interruption.

"Right. Never mind. Carry on," Warrick apologized and left.

Nick turned to Sara with a smile. "Now where were we?"

She kissed him lightly and pulled his arms from her waist. "I don't know where you were, but I was about to go see if Bobby has anything on my shell casings," she teased with a smile.

Nick groaned.

"Don't worry, we'll finish this later," Sara called out as the locker room door swung closed behind her.

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As promised, they finished their "business" after shift, complete with Sara's lacy black number, although she wasn't sure she'd actually modeled it for Nick, considering she didn't have it on for very long.

"Well I think I've learned my lesson," Nick said, still trying to catch his breath as he stared up at the ceiling.

"Oh really?" Sara was a bit surprised that it appeared he was taking the full blame.

"Yeah. To get a performance like that out of you, all I have to do is leave the toilet seat up," he grinned at her.

Sara elbowed him in the ribs.

"Ow."

Nick waited a minute before breaking the silence. "It really wasn't entirely my fault. And it was way less than eighty percent. I'm not the one who didn't turn the light on before sitting down."

"Shut up."

"Well it wasn't."

- The End -