A/N: Hi, people. Here's my first multi-chapter fic in a long time. Hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I don't even the computer this was typed on. Sad, huh? Oh well. Enjoy.

Greg leaned against the Denali's passenger window, wishing the rain would stop. Annoyingly, it wasn't even raining hard enough for a proper storm. Just enough to make the roads slick, and make the hour's drive to the scene take twice as long as normal. Well, maybe not that long, but he was bored out of his mind and he and Sara had only been on the road for about twenty minutes. Somehow the two of them always seemed to pull cases like that.

"You awake there, Greggo?" Sara broke into his thoughts.

"Yeah." At least he got to work with his favorite CSI for once. "Just bored."

"Uh-oh."

"What?" Greg asked. He hadn't seen anything to worry about.

"You're dangerous when you're bored." Greg rolled his eyes. The incident with Hodges and Gil's pet tarantula had NOT been because he was bored. Hodges had found out the hard way that even Greg Sanders could only be pushed so far. Hodges had deserved it. Unfortunately, Grissom didn't see that way. Or he could have been mad Greg 'borrowed' his precious spider without asking.

"Mind if I turn on the radio?" It was getting too quiet, and the dessert landscape zooming by was starting to creep him out, though Greg doubted that they were really being followed a pack of rabid coyotes.

"Please." A loud, twanging noise filled the truck. It seemed Nicky been last to use the vehicle. Greg pushed a button. A rap station came on.

"Ack. Why does Warrick listen to this?" Sara shrugged.

Bravely, Sanders tried another button. Opera. That proved it. His boss was beyond weird. He tried again. Some random boy band came on. "Catherine is having out with Lindsey's friends waaay too much." Giving up, he found the local classic rock station. "Why is it the only people with good taste in music keep getting their stations reset?"

"Probably because it's not your car?" Sara stated the obvious.

"That's beside the point." Greg paused. "Are we there yet?"

Sara smiled. Greg really was dangerous when bored. "No. And if you ask again nobody will ever find your body."

"But then who's going to Monty and Grocho?" Monty and Grocho were his two cats. Monty was a big, orange tiger cat. Grocho, a black and white Angora/Maine Coon cross. Greg had adopted both from a local shelter a few years ago.

"I will." Sara liked animals.

Greg quickly changed the subject. "I brought a Mad Libs book."

"Oh no." Sara feigned a lack of interest. She was really about as bored as he was. And would anyone but Greg have something that ridiculous, and fun to do?

"I need an adjective."

"Hot."

They continued to play until they finally reached the scene. It was a body dump in the middle of nowhere, without a much to work else with. David, the corner's assistant, was waiting for them, along with Det. Sofia Curtis.

"Hey, guys. Glad you finally made it." Sofia was being driven crazy waiting for them. "Not a lot see. Guy's a John Doe." There really wasn't much else to find.

Meanwhile, David was examining the body. "He's been dead at least twenty-four hours." David paused, noticing a large tattoo on the man's chest. He pointed it out the CSIs. "Could be a gang tattoo. It definitely looks familiar." The artwork in question was a pitchfork. Greg and Sara knew they had seen it somewhere before.

"COD's a single gunshot to the head, looks like the bullet's still in there. Not much else to tell."

TO BE CONTINUED…

A/N: Sorry to stop it there, but most you will see where I'm going with it. I'll try to update soon. Reviews help me do it faster, but I hope to have more for you guys tomorrow. Just need a moment to outline the plot a bit more clearly in my head. This will most likely get darker fast, thought I put in humor when I still can. Please review. Thank you to those that reviewed 'You Always Do' Here are your imaginary cookies.