Title: Possessions
Author: ScullyAsTrinity
Rating: G, so sad, I know.
Category: Angst, humor
Summary: It was good coffee. Damn good coffee. And she certainly wanted a cup of that damn good coffee.
Thanks: To Mel.
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"Drop. It. Now."
The package of coffee fell to the counter with a dull thunk, and Sara threw up her hands and took a step away from the dark roast. Lips pursed, suppressing a smile she contemplated what to do.
Greg Sanders took three steps forward, snatched the bag of coffee off the unforgiving Formica. The lab tech's eyes took on a distinctive glare. As if it were a baby, he held the package to his chest, coddling it, cooing to it. "It's okay baby, the mean lady won't take you again."
Though completely amused, Sara suppressed the grin that was just begging to take control of her face. "'Baby?'" Sara asked, cocking her chin in his direction.
"Twenty-five bucks a pop, my sweet. And as much as I long for you, my dear..." Garishly, he fluttered his eyes at her, spinning to begin brewing himself a pot of java. "You must ask... before you indulge."
The ability to move suddenly spurred her to the counter, and she watched on as Greg prepared the beverage. "I'm sorry, you're right, I should have asked." Greg glanced over his shoulder at her. "May I please have a cup of, your wonderful gourmet coffee?" Sara extended to the point of near pleading, but held back, on account of her pride.
It was good coffee. Damn good coffee. And she certainly wanted a cup of that damn good coffee.
Watching the machine percolate, he surveyed her form out of the corner of his eyes, happy that she was engaging in his little game. Days at the lab had become increasingly dull with no one to banter with. Everyone was so high strung lately, and Greg found it to be quite the drag.
"Thaaaat depends." Folding his arms solidly across his chest, he regarded her, appearing to size her up and Sara just couldn't help it anymore. She smiled at him. He smiled back.
Regarding his staunch manner coolly, she feigned nonchalance. "On what exactly?"
"Allow me, in my infinite wisdom, to ponder." Shaking his head erratically at her, he paused and looked to the cabinets before him. "And find where I left that pack of Oreos."
"Find?" Sara posed, leaning in to check on the processing coffee.
Greg grabbed the step stool from the corner of the room and stood to glance within a few cupboards. "Had to hide them from Nick. He tends to gorge. I'll never guess how he keeps his girlish figure with all the crap he eats." With a grunt and a near spill, Greg pulled his precious cookies out from behind a giant box of Wheat Thins.
Sara hopped up on the counter and splayed her legs. Greg would have been excited if she hadn't done it nearly every day for the past four years. He held out a cookie to her and she took it, munching absently. "How do you? Keep your girlish figure that is."
"My, my. Sara, are you admitting to checking me out?"
"Or you can completely ignore the fact that I just called you a girl." She retorted around the last vestiges of cookie, wiping her hands on her pants.
Finding the coffee pot to but full enough, he pulled it from the heated console in a flourish, reaching out to grab her empty mug and fill it. "I, Sara Sidle, am all man."
Gratefully, she took the proffered mug from his hands and reached for the sugar, but he snatched it for himself before she could get to it. Frowning, she waited, scissored her legs back and forth over the edge of the counter. "Aw, Greggo, I don't deny that. I just don't affirm it." A grin spread across her face when he shoved the sugar contained into her hand.
"That's rough. And this needs sugar." He snatched the container back from her and sprinkled a smidge more into his mug. "Ahhh, there we go. Perfection."
It was odd, or so Sara thought, seeing him nearing the throes of pure insanity from a few simple sips of coffee. No, that was a lie.
The coffee was damn good. But she was going her best to hide it. Swallowing a satisfied moan, she spoke up, over the pleasure of the warm beverage sliding down her throat. "I don't know Greg, are you sure your dealer knows what he's doing? If he cuts this wrong…?" Scrunching a brow she held out her mug and pointed to it. "This is kinda bitter. Did you add too much water?"
Greg scoffed at her and nearly snatched his precious roast back from her. She deftly out maneuvered him. "I have coffee making down to a precise science." He assured and she grinned at him.
"You know Sara, you're volatile." Greg thought into his coffee. "I mean, you like to burn me. Why is that?" He asked, not particularly searching for an answer, or meaning what he said. He was just content to continue the banter.
Sara thought for a moment, but shrugged, finding nothing wittier to say than: "Self proclaimed pyro. Fire's my thing."
"Then, by extension, I'm your thing."
Sara huffed out a laugh, blowing air over the surface of her coffee, looking to the tepid water. "You're not my thing Greg. In fact, I don't have a thing. Anything. Nothing."
A commotion was heard coming from the other end of the hall, and they both turned in the direction of the tumult. Grissom was chewing out Hodges for something he had, or more accurately, had not done. He heard Griss before he saw him, pounding down the hall, accelerating as he went.
Greg's eyes followed his supervisor as he passed the break room, a determined look creasing his brow. Greg spun back to Sara, attempting to be suave, and failing miserably.
Bringing the LVPD mug to his lips he sipped and fired a question Sara's way. She'd heard it before, though not concerning the same person. "Tell me, what has he got that I don't?" The young lab tech arched his brows, waiting for her to become flustered and refute his claim. Instead, she looked towards the floor and smiled sadly.
Snatching her mug from the counter, using a hand for leverage, she pushed herself away and leaned into her co-worker. "My heart, Greg." She whispered and left him to pretend to agonize over his dark roast.