A/N: I know, I know I can't help it and I can't stop it so I'm just going to run with it. I watched Bittersweet online this morning and couldn't get Sunday lunch done for the ideas buzzing in my head. We all went hungry for the day. I'm liking the season so far, and DB Russell too, despite his comment to Catherine when he asked her if she knew why he got the job, or something to that effect, which gave me pause and birth to this.

This very short post-ep between Sara and DB takes place directly after the screen went black.

Hidden Agenda.

"Do you like Indian?" DB asked after a pause.

His tenacity rang many bells, as did his soft probing tone, and Sara couldn't help the smile that formed on her lips. "I'm sorry," she said with a wince, "but I'm going to have to pass. I've a prior engagement." Her shoulder lifted apologetically. "I've a date with my husband."

"Ah, well, some other time then," he replied easily, before adding musingly, "I've a feeling you won't be going to the local farmer's market." He sighed, then lowered his eyes and after nodding toward her lap met her gaze. "That ring you wear, it's not just for show then?"

A wide smile spreading across her face she lifted her hand in front of her. "Most definitely not," she said confidently, glancing down at her wedding ring.

"He's a lucky guy."

She looked round to him, the wide grin still dancing on her lips. "I think we kind of found one another," she said quietly.

Their eyes held for a second, then averted, and she stood up. "I'll see you tonight." Bringing his eyes up to her face he gave her a nod. She shoved her hands in her pockets, making to leave, but paused and turned back toward him hesitantly. "Thanks for…letting me run with the case even after I messed up. I appreciate it."

He gave her a half-nod of acknowledgement. "I'm glad we got a result. See you tonight," he added, smiling. "Oh, and Sara," he called when she turned away.

She looked over her shoulder, her right brow rising quizzically. "Yeah?"

A mischievous smile was playing round the edges of his mouth. "Say 'Hi' to ex-supervisor Grissom for me."

Her mouth twisted in amusement, not in the least bit surprised that he should know who she was married to despite never mentioning it in the four months they had been working together. "I will."

"You didn't take his name," he remarked with interest.

Sara couldn't hide the look of surprise at his statement.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly with an apologetic raise of his hand. "I'm the curious one in our marriage. My wife never indulges." He flashed an awkward smile. "Don't answer; it's none of my business."

Sara relaxed, thinking it the first time she witnessed discomfort coming from him. "It was…simply easier that way," she said truthfully, "for work, after Gil left and I came back. Less confusing." She smiled. "I am Mrs Grissom, just not at work."

"Fair point."

Her eyes narrowed in enquiry. "H―How did you know?"

His brow rose. "I've ears everywhere," he said enigmatically, and Sara didn't doubt that he had, as despite a seemingly relaxed front from the very first day he'd set foot at CSI she'd been under no illusions that underneath he was a shrewd cookie, a tough task master and a good judge of characters. He got up from his seat, towering over her, and motioned with his head that he was leaving too and that they should head out together. They silently walked side by side until they reached the entrance lobby where he stopped dead in his tracks.

Sara followed suit, turning toward him with puzzlement. "You forgot something?"

"No," he sighed, holding her gaze. "I've…kind of always known who you are married to," he said in a serious tone, his shoulders lifting in admission of guilt. His smile stiffened. "I don't know why I never brought it up."

"Ecklie?" Sara ventured.

The grin that broke across his face this time was very genuine and very telling. "On my first day at the lab. But it would seem that your husband's ghost is everywhere I turn anyway. That…pig Nick carries around a case in point."

Sara chuckled. "It's not that bad."

"You know what I mean. It's like I'm always being compared to him. Without his name even crossing people's lips." He gave a shake of his head. "Oh, I don't mind," he added quickly, "I don't let that kind of stuff bother me."

Her eyes lowering Sara nodded.

"Catherine's demotion had nothing to do with me, you know that right?" he said out of the blue.

Sara's gaze snapped up, surprised at his candour. She nodded. "I don't…feel comfortable talking about Catherine behind her back," she said diplomatically.

"I'm not telling you anything she doesn't already know."

"Still, this whole thing's been tough on her, and she's my friend."

"I think that's part of the problem. If not all of it. Catherine is a fine CSI-"

"A great CSI," Sara amended vehemently.

He acknowledged her interruption with a nod. "But she lacked some of the qualities to be a great supervisor. She couldn't take the required step back and put herself above you because of her friendship with you guys."

"I disagree."

"It's a fine line between being friendly while maintaining a professional distance."

"You've got to know who's boss," Sara stated.

"Absolutely. And the buck stops with him. With me. If I give an order I expect it to be followed. And I think, from what I understand, that the buck stopped with your husband too. He had tough shoes to fill and Catherine did her best." He paused, and gave her a searching look. "You know I've come here with a job to do, don't you?"

Lowering her gaze with a sigh she nodded her head.

He indicated the exit with his hand and they stepped out into the bright sunshine, both pulling on their sunglasses at the same time. "You're a great team, but some changes are needed, and that's what I've come here to do."

"A hidden agenda?" Sara asked with interest.

"No," he chuckled. "I've always known."

She laughed. "I meant for us."

"Ah." He looked down a little contritely. "I'd like to think not. I'd like to think you lot all know. It's not a secret, but I don't want my presence to deliberately affect the team's morale."

Sara couldn't repress the smile that tugged at the corner of her mouth at the mention of that phrase. Could his super-hearing have extended to hers and Grissom's impromptu breakfast with Catherine the previous week?

"Good night, Sara," Russell said, smiling knowingly.

And still she couldn't bring herself to dislike him. "Good night, DB." They had just parted ways, each walking in opposite direction to their own cars when her phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out, smiling at the word 'Home' flashing on the display, and quickly connected the call with a pleasant and teasing, "Gilbert."

"Where are you?" came his enquiring, slightly exasperated voice. "I got it all set up."

"Still at Desert Palm's," she replied hurriedly beeping her car unlocked and getting behind the wheel. Fixing the phone on the stand on the dashboard she hooked up her hands-free kit. "Sorry, I lost track of time," she said, closing he car door with one hand and shoving the key in the ignition with the other. The dubious sigh at the other end made her add a little contritely, "I'll be along in fifteen minute max; I promise."

"I'll wait," he said.

"I'll make it worth your while," she said, laughing at his mock-dejected tone as she put the car in gear.

"You'd better."

"Ten minutes," she said, laughing as she checked her mirrors and hurried out of her space. "I'll be there in ten. Don't start without me."

She was pulling at her seatbelt, speeding toward the exit when out of the corner of her eye she caught DB watching her from inside his car. She met her supervisor's eye with a smile and a half-nod of acknowledgement as she passed. Then she sighed as she wondered which one of the team's number was up, and sadly she had a feeling she already knew whose it was.

"I wouldn't dream of it," she heard Grissom say, and she refocused. "Take your time, though; I'm not going anywhere."