Surprise Endings
Summary: Of geeks and movies. Sometimes things don't end the way you expect them to. My entry to this week's Unbound Improv Challenge. First and last lines are provided. Slightly spoilerish mention from the fifth season premiere.
Rating: G.
A/N: Thanks to Marlou for looking over this one.
Disclaimer: Until my plans to take over Viacom are finalized, CSI is still not mine.

"Just close your eyes," he said.

With an annoyed frown, Grissom turned to see what Greg was talking about this time. Ever since failing his field exam, the would-be CSI had been overly-eager to make up for his mistake. Greg had been chatting nervously ever since learning he could tag along on a dormitory shooting.

What he saw made Grissom cock his head in confusion. Greg was obviously ribbing Sara, who was staring distastefully at the television. He'd noticed it when they arrived; apparently the students had been having a "movie night" when the gunshots started.

Following her gaze, he noted the screen was covered in gore. Figuratively, at least. The scene ended with a young brunette slumping over a steering wheel with what appeared to be a metal spike sticking out of her forehead.

"If you're scared, I can hold your hand," the younger man offered with an eyebrow wiggle.

What really confused him was the gap-toothed grin Sara directed at Greg.

Huh? No. She couldn't be.

"Greg, focus," Grissom barked pointedly, moving to a shattered window. Holding hands with Sara was his purview. And he wasn't in the mood to share.

She's sharing. I used to be the only one who got those smiles.

"You heard the boss, Greggo," Sara said as she started photographing the scene. "And for the record, I wasn't scared."

"Of course you weren't," he replied, setting down the numbered markers where she directed. He said it with such fake sincerity it drew a hearty chuckle from Sara.

Grissom's forehead wrinkled, turning his frown into a full-blown, but befuddled, scowl. Sara was happy. That was a good thing. She hadn't laughed in too long; until he heard it again, Grissom hadn't realized how much he missed it.

So, why wasn't he happy for her?

Because Greg's responsible for it, not me.

Grissom paused to observe them for a moment as they discussed various horror films. He couldn't recall hearing of most of them, let alone actually watching them. It was another reminder that he grew up in another age.

Spotting a bullet embedded in the wall, he went to get Sara to photograph it. She and Greg were still chatting about these "slasher" movies when he came over. Greg seemed to be enjoying the closeness with Sara – too much for Grissom's taste. It was inappropriate for work; jealously wasn't a factor.

"And where do they get these actors?" Sara asked, taking another set of photos. "Look at her – can you imagine what she told her parents? 'Hey, Mom. You can see me on the big screen, running around half-naked with an axe sticking out of my head.' They must have been so proud."

"It's a job," Greg replied. "I bet a lot of big name actors started out with really cheesy roles. Besides, when you have a body like that … Say, you know, Sara, I bet you could … Ow!"

Grissom smiled as Sara 'accidentally' kicked Greg's shin as she stepped around a knocked-over chair. Thoughts of thousands of hormonally-challenged Gregs watching a half-naked Sara made Grissom's blood boil.

Thoughts of a half-naked Sara were doing other things to his blood, as well.

"First, that's not scary. It's gross. It's not even accurate. The blood spatter is all wrong," she replied, still grinning.

How come I can't make her smile like that anymore? Well, it's hard to joke with her when you're not doing any talking.

Oh, right.

"Our jobs do make us more immune to imagery like that," Grissom said, his smile freezing when Sara gave him a hurt look.

"I'm not jaded. I still feel," she said.

I knew there was a reason I don't do small talk. Fine, but if I don't, someone else will.

"What do you find scary?" Grissom asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Not gore. I like an intelligent movie."

"Like The Haunting," Grissom suggested.

"Ugh," Greg chimed in. "That was a waste of Liam Neeson."

"What?" Who? And why is Sara nodding at him?

"They remade the movie," Sara explained when she noted his confusion. "The 1963 version was better."

"Before my time," Greg said, oblivious to Grissom's pained expression before he resumed work.

Right. Sara hadn't been born yet when I was watching that movie. We really are from different generations. How can I connect with her?

"Well, The Changeling was a scary movie," Sara said. "I watch that whenever I'm in the mood for a good chill."

"Don't listen to her," Greg insisted. "That movie is evil. Now Evil Dead…"

"I never heard of it," Grissom said to Sara, ignoring Greg's attempt to change the topic.

"George C. Scott, Melvyn Douglas. Came out around 1980. It's a classic ghost movie. I love it."

"It's evil," a shaky voice called out behind them.

"Get out! It's great. The scene where Scott throws the ball of the bridge, then comes back home…"

"No! I hate that scene," Greg cried out, blushing when the other two stared at him with amused expressions. "I was only seven when I saw it. My cousins dropped me off at some kiddie pic, but I wanted to see what they were watching, so I snuck in. After that ball scene, I was curled up in a ball. My cousins rolled me home. Not that it had any lasting effects," he added with an embarrassed look.

"I don't know, Greg. I always thought you tended to dribble," Sara quipped.

Hah! Take that! She's not so impressed with you now, Greg.

A slow smile crossed Grissom's lips as a plan formulated. Sara loved the movie; Greg couldn't stand it.

"So, I guess you have a copy of The Changeling," he said, handing his bagged evidence to the younger man and pointing in the general direction of the exit.

"Yeah," Sara said, freezing when Grissom stepped up directly beside her. "Uh, why? Did you want to watch it some time?"

"Actually, I do. How about tonight?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure."

"How about eight?" he asked before she could offer to bring the movie into work. Grissom tried to keep his expression calm as Sara slowly turned to stare at him. "I'll bring pizza."

She kept staring at him, her eyes opening wide in disbelief as her head tilted to one side.

"Vegetarian. I remember. How about mushrooms and olives?"

"No olives," she answered automatically, giving her head a shake. Her mouth started to open, but she gave her head another shake without speaking.

Sensing his proposition had been grudgingly accepted, he made a hasty retreat. "Okay, I guess that's settled then."

A/N II : Go watch The Changeling. Great ghost story.