Goodbye, Luck, Night

Disclaimer: They're not mine. Don't sue me. Seriously, don't.

Rating: K

A/N: This fic is obviously a parody. A collection of snarky thoughts that I could no longer keep inside. There was, in my opinion, a lot of out of character behavior floating around in Goodbye and Good Luck, and this is where my brain took it. There's a very small spoiler for 8x08 at the end. Beware!

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It was an uncharacteristically cold night in Las Vegas. The wind was blowing with all its might, and there were even flakes of snow in the air. No one could remember the last time that it snowed in Vegas. In fact, no one could remember whether it had ever snowed in Vegas at all but, sure enough, there was snow in the air. Perhaps the weather had scared all the criminals into staying in for the night, or maybe everyone had just grown tired of breaking the law. Either way, there were no cases to be found on that cold, dark night.

Greg walked aimlessly into the break room in a desperate search to find someone or some thing to entertain him. Upon his first glance around, the room appeared to be empty, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sara crouched down digging around in the refrigerator.

"Hey, Sara. What's up?" Greg said, inadvertently startling Sara who hadn't heard him come in.

She stood up quickly, and spun around to face him.

"Greg, you scared the crap out of me," she told him, as she turned to face the counter again and put what she had taken out of the refrigerator into the microwave.

"Yeah, sorry about that. What about this weather, eh? It's crazy, isn't it?" Greg rambled.

"Um, I guess, yeah. It's just cold out is all. I mean, it is November, after all," she informed him.

"Yeah, but I mean, it's snowing! I don't think I've ever seen snow in Vegas before. I wonder how much we're going to get." Greg continued, oblivious to Sara's lack of interest.

"It's just snow, Greg," Sara stated calmly as the microwave beeped behind her.

"Yeah, but don't you think it's weird?"

"No, not really," she answered abruptly. Grabbing her food, she walked over to the table and sat down.

"Sara, is that a cheeseburger?" Greg implored.

"Yeah… Why?" she replied, taking a bite.

"I just thought that you uh… Were a vegetarian?" He asked meekly.

"Well, people change, Greg. We change every day," Sara stated with a smile.

"That is very true," Catherine agreed as she walked into the break room and sat down. Warrick followed closely, but not too closely behind her and sat down on the opposite side of the table from her.

"So, Cath," Warrick began, "How's things with Lindsey?"

"Oh, you know. Same old, same old," Catherine replied with a sigh, as she adjusted her turtleneck.

"Well, sometimes the less drama that goes on, the better," Warrick said. "Is she looking at colleges yet?"

"College? She's only 15, Warrick." Catherine informed him. "I'm sure the time will come for that soon, but we're not quite to that point yet."

"Fair enough," Warrick agreed. "So, Greg, Sara, anything new with you two lately? I feel like I never see any of you guys anymore."

"Nah, man." Greg answered. "Just the usual, really."

Sara, her mouth full of food, nodded her head in agreement with Greg's answer.

Everyone glanced towards the doorway as Nick walked in. "Hey guys, slow night, isn't it?" He asked, breaking the silence.

"Sure is," Catherine agreed. "Hey, Nick, did you ever get around to watching The Notebook? Man, I cried my eyes out while I watched it."

"Yeah, I watched it last night, actually. I thought it was really good," Nick said.

"Did you cry? Come on, there's no way anyone could watch that movie and not at least mist up," she prodded.

"Nah, I'm not really the over-emotional type. You know that," he told her with a grin.

"Fair enough," Catherine said. "Hey, Warrick, did things ever get any better with Tina?"

"With who?" Warrick asked, confused. "Oh, Tina. No, not really. I think we're divorced now. Or maybe we're just separated. Hell, we could still be married for all I know," he sighed. "Relationships are so confusing."

"Only sometimes," Grissom told him as he entered and smiled at Sara.

She smiled back and asked, "Hey, Griss. Did you take Hank out before you left?"

"Hank the person?" Greg asked with a laugh. Catherine began to giggle as well.

"No, Greg. Hank is our dog," Grissom said, not seeing the humor in Greg's joke. "And no, Sara, I didn't. I didn't know I was supposed to."

"I left you a note, though. I put it on the counter under the fruit basket. I was sure you'd find it there."

"You mean next to the fruit basket? Because I didn't see anything there," Grissom asked, confused. "And why didn't you just tell me when you saw me before you left the house?"

"No, I mean under the fruit basket. I didn't want it to get knocked off the counter. I just figured you'd find it there," she told him. "It's all right, though. I'll just run home in a little while and let him out."

"Yeah. It's slow enough tonight. Maybe I could go with you."

"Nah, that's okay. I think I should go on my own," she told him calmly, studying his reaction.

"Oh, okay. Just let me know if you change your mind," Grissom told her, smiling at her again.

Eventually a silence fell over the room. Everyone seemed content to be lost in their own thoughts. Everyone, except Greg, who insisted on humming the same three bars of "Hello, Goodbye" by The Beatles, repeatedly.

"Greg!" Grissom yelled, unable to take it anymore. "Will you please stop humming? I can't stand that song."

"Sorry, Griss. It's been stuck in my head for days. I didn't even know I was doing it," Greg said, apologetically.

"I actually kind of like that song," Sara said. "It's catchy."

"Yeah, catchy until it gets stuck in your head for like a year," Greg whined.

"Oh, Sanders, you poor thing," Brass quipped as he sauntered into the break room. "I was wondering where everyone was. I don't know why I didn't think to look here first."

"Got anything for us, Brass?" Nick asked, ignoring his less than pleasant attitude.

"Not a thing. I guess the weather scared everyone into staying inside," Brass answered.

"Yeah! Isn't this weather crazy?" Greg asked energetically, as Sara sighed loudly behind him.

"I'm guessing this isn't the first time we've been down that road tonight," Brass said with a laugh. "Hey, you know what I was thinking earlier, Gil? I haven't heard anything about Lady Heather in a while. I never thought I'd say this, but cases involving her are pretty interesting. They always keep me on my toes."

"Well, people do change, Jim," Sara informed him.

"Yeah… I uh…" Grissom began. "I'm relieved that Heather isn't around anymore," he said as he cautiously glanced at Sara. She simply shrugged and smiled at him, before standing up and stretching.

"I think I'm going to head home and take care of Hank," Sara told the group. Brass chuckled to himself and Sara shot him a look. "Hank is our dog, Jim. I don't understand why people think that's so funny. Hank is a fine name for a dog. Anyway, Gil, do I need to do anything with the bees since I'm headed outside anyway?"

"No, I checked on them on my way in. The cold weather seems to have killed them all," Grissom said unemotionally.

"What? You're not upset are you?" Sara asked, concern evident in her voice.

"No, it's okay. They weren't all that interesting anyway," he told her. "I wasn't learning much."

"Well, all right then," Sara said as she walked over to Grissom and kissed him. "I might not be back for a while. I'm not sure. I'll leave you a note or something and let you know," she stated plainly. "Goodbye, guys."

"Goodnight, Sara," Greg said, unaware that she wasn't just going home for the evening.

"Good luck," Nick said, as he watched her walk towards the door.

"Hello everyone," Hodges said cheerfully as he passed Sara in the hallway and entered the break room. "I'm sure everyone is bored tonight, but never fear. I have a great idea. You see, I've been working on this game…."