Disclaimer: I don't own CSI. I am just a humble fan and writer.
A/N: I'm back! After mourning the loss of Sara I decided to look back on past favorites episodes. One of my favorites being Rashomama. I can't help but imagine what could've happened between Sara and Greg at the diner (before Nick joined them). My wild imagination has come up with this little gem. I hope you like it (despite being "outdated").
Ficlet 31: It's Tradition
Greg and Sara had just finished loading the evidence into Nick's truck, when Nick told them he would catch up with them. The two went ahead and walked into the diner.
"Usual booth?" Greg asked.
"What else?" Sara responded. 'As if it would be anything different.'
After scanning the menu they waved a waitress over.
"Haven't I seen you two here before?" The waitress leaned in, as if examining the two CSIs.
"If you have, you'd know what I want to eat."
"What?"
"He always orders the same thing," Sara supplied, "Eggs over easy, toast and a large
coffee with two sugars."
Greg smiled at her, nodding in surprise and appreciation.
"What will I have, Greg?" Sara posed a challenge.
He didn't hesitate, "The waffle platter with a side of potatoes and a medium coffee with three sugars." He folded his arms and the waitress looked at her.
"He's correct."
"Okay. Coming up." The ashy blonde waitress walked off.
"Good thing you remembered."
"How could I forget?" the easy going CSI replied. "I can think of a sweet memory that will always have me remembering this place."
Sara rolled her eyes but smiled. "You mean when I spilled syrup on my shirt?"
"That's the second sweetest."
She remembered the day clearly. The two had investigated a robbery a few blocks down and decided to stop by at the diner. Sara got some waffles. The pictures made it look so much more appetizing.
Then as she poured the little bottle of syrup (which in retrospect had a suspiciously loose top) it spilled out on the front her white shirt and dribbled onto her pants. Greg tried to wipe it off with napkins and she nearly slapped him – partly because it was just smearing the sticky syrup and partly because he enjoyed rubbing down the front of her shirt a little too much.
"You ruined a perfectly good shirt." Sara reminded Greg.
"Well, you didn't seem so upset afterward." He was grinning like a Cheshire cat.
She remembered how profusely he apologized and how he lent her one of his spare shirts ...
Outside the diner, she was still a little mad but Greg leaned in and kissed her. It was brief, more of a peck really, and it came completely out of nowhere; she didn't even have time to kiss him back.
"Why did you kiss me," She had asked him.
"I thought it might cheer you up." he replied with a nervous smile.
... Ever since then, she didn't forget the kiss, but she had always insisted on coming back, hoping for a repeat. They weren't dating but they had shared some looks and perhaps today she would finally initiate the kiss… finally be able to kiss him back.
He asked her a while ago why she kept insisting. She told him it could be a sort of tradition. Their tradition.
Sitting at the same seat, she almost forgot those words...
"I remember you now," the waitress returned with their orders. "You were the girl who spilled syrup on herself. We got new syrup dispensers because of that."
"Glad I could help," Sara muttered.
As they dug in, Nick arrived and took a seat beside her.
She found herself complaining about the food. "Why do we keep coming here?"
Greg mentioned how it was open twenty four hours, but it was his last words that caught Sara's attention.
"It's tradition."
She smiled to herself. He remembered. Someday they'll finish their tradition.
---
Ah yes... I can always dream can't I? I hope the sandle shippers liked that, and if they do, I hope they review. Thanks for your patience with me.