"I'm not saying it." The boy shook his head fiercely. His face moving closer to his sometimes adversary and sometimes friend.

Right now, she was the former rather than the latter.

"Just admit it."

He groaned in what was quickly becoming irritation. She stood beside him, peering down with a look that could only be described as smug. "What part of we're friends do you not understand?"

"Just because you don't see those eyes when they travel-"

"Um, excuse me." The boy and his sometimes adversary halted in their conversation. Heads turned to the young man standing in the doorway. Shifting anxiously at the sudden attention. "Am I interrupting anything?"

"Oh…" The boy exclaimed in surprise, sparing a quick but not completely imperceptibly glance at the stranger. Fumbling with the cup in his hands and dropping it on the floor. Where it rolled beneath the desk.

"Good thing it was plastic, genius." She smiled through her teeth at the man standing in the doorway. Who was giving her a strange expression as the boy disappeared, hidden by the desk. "Don't forget to close your mouth before coming back up." She spoke so only the boy could hear her. "It's not nice to stare."

"Shut up, Sara Sidle." The boy whispered as he rose from his position on the floor. Trying to make up for his unsophisticated first impression. Hurriedly taking the unoccupied chair behind the desk.

"Please take a seat." He moved his hand graciously in the direction of the chair to the right of man. Who still had the strange expression on his face. "Welcome to the last home of good old fashioned detective work. I'm Greg Sanders, by the way." The boy pointed with his thumb to the female next to him. Who was now somewhere in between friend and adversary. Depending on her reaction. "And this is my partner-"

"Not really," She smiled, trying to conceal her embarrassment. Though not really succeeding. "But I'm Sara Sidle." She held out her hand, with which the man shook. Looking at the two people behind the desk in a confused manner. Wondering if he even came to the right place.

"What can we do you for?" Greg crossed his arms in front of him, leaning heavily on the flat surface on the desk. Staring intently into the eyes of the man before him, he ignored the questioning gaze from his, now decided, adversary.

"Is uh…Is Gil Grissom, here?" The man laughed nervously, his fingers rubbing the back of his neck as he took a seat.

"Oh…" Sara blinked. Somewhat shocked at the situation. Their first official case of the season. Two weeks wait was long enough. "He's out, right now." She glanced at her watch. "Should be here in about thirty minutes or so. But I can still help you if you'd like. Until he gets here."

"I can't stay that long." He glanced down at his feet, dark blue jeans covering his boots. "And ma'am…No offence, but who are you?"

"She's Grissom's assistant." Greg spoke before Sara had a chance to. Slightly swaying in the cushioned chair with satisfaction. Retaliation for her earlier actions toward him.

"Greg." Sara elbowed him, almost knocking him off the chair. Pleased when he received the message to actually remove himself from said chair.

"Sara, what?" He titled his head in confusion, unconsciously raising his brows.

Sara sat down, taking Greg's place. Wearing a pleasant smile that was somewhat forced. "This is adult conversation."

"What's your point?" He asked, leaning on the edge of the desk with his palms taking the brunt of his weight.

"Don't you have school today?"

"It's the middle of June."

"Leave, Greg." She spoke through gritted teeth. A smile somehow still plastered on her face.

He sighed in annoyance. Rolling his eyes as moved from by desk. Nearing the stranger and stopping to speak in the man's ear. He place his hand over the side of his mouth, trying to whisper despite the fact that Sara would probably be able to hear him. "Don't let her scare you. She's just mad because she didn't want to get caught in her sordid affair with me."

"Greg."

"I'm going, I'm going." Greg smiled when he saw the man attempting to hold back laughter. Attempting being the operative word. "Anger management, Sara." He waved to her with his back turned. Going through the door nondescript wooden door on the other side of the room. "I'll be in the back room if you need me."

"Not that we will…" Sara mumbled, immensely relieved that Greg was no longer in her hair. She gave her attention to the new client. "I'm…I'm sorry about that. He can, uh…He's uh, yeah. Anyway, how can I help you?"

"The kid doesn't work here?" The young man asked, partly in curiosity and partly questioning the integrity of the place.

"Oh no…" Sara shook her head vehemently. "No, he's my boss's nephew."

"Speaking of your boss…About Mr. Grissom?" The man tilted his head to the side.

"Oh…Yes. I can still help you if you want, Mr…."

"I'm sorry, where are my manners? I'm Nick Stokes." He gave a wide smile, his skin slightly wrinkling around his eyes. "I'm staying with a friend of mine, Warrick Brown. He said you guys work faster than the cops."

"Can't forget Warrick." Sara trailed off in a nervous laugh. No, she couldn't forget Warrick because his father was the one who provided the donation which helped fix their old office building. She could still remember the paint peeling off the walls. And if Nick knew Warrick…Sara took back what she thought earlier. She should have let Greg stay.

She wasn't really much of a people person.

"Yeah…" Nick looked at her warily. "Anyway, I suspect I'm the victim of identity theft."

"Really?" She sat up in her chair, leaning over the desk and closer to Nick. "We haven't had much of those, lately." Her interest peaking.

"Do you think you could help me? I'm on vacation and I don't want to get my family caught up in this."

"Depends…What makes you think it's some kind of identity theft?"

"I started seeing deductions from some of my bank accounts and credit cards I've never applied for." He reached in his back pocket, pulling out some folded papers. "If you need proof, I have my account balances and credit card statements. And I can prove that I didn't make these payments if-"

Sara held her hand up. "That's fine. It's just sometimes we get certain…" Her mind trailed back to a man named Conrad Ecklie, who thought he was being stalked by aliens. Turned out he was a sober kind of drunk with an overactive imagination.

But hey, it was California.

"Never mind…But uh…" She opened a drawer, taking out a short stack of papers. Putting them on the desk and grabbing a pen from Greg's black, Bad Company mug. She didn't understand how he could like that band. "I need you to sign a couple of places on this form, please." She flipped over the first two pages of the stapled set of papers, going to the last page. "On this line and on this line…Here." She directed, putting the pen in Nick's hand.

"What's this?" Nick turned back to the first pages, skimming them over.

"Standard procedure. A simple contract." That keeps this business safe from civil disputes, she internally added while he read it over. Because it was already stated in the fine print.

"Is that it?" Nick looked up, setting the pen on the desk after signing the sheet.

"Now, we have legal access to your information. Would you…" She held out her hand.

"Oh…" He put his financial documents in her hand. "Those are only copies. I still have the originals with me."

"Great."

"Is there anything else I need to do?"

"Not today, but I can reach you at this number?" Her finger rested by the set of digits on the contract.

"Yeah…It's Warrick's." Nick nodded his head. "I'll be staying with him."

"Then that's it for now. We'll see what we can do, and Grissom will look over your case. Call you as soon as he's able. Is that all right?"

"Sure…But I do have one favour to ask."


"You were listening in weren't you?" Sara crossed her arms, leaning against the wall. Giving Greg an accusatory look.

Although, it was more of a glare than a simple look.

"I couldn't help it...Really." He placed his coffee mug on the table, spinning around in the chair.

"I'm going to tell Griss that you haven't taken down that intercom system, yet."

"Would you believe that he actually encourages me?"

Sara paused, thinking over the question. "I don't want to, but…Yes."

"See? But I can't believe he called me kid, though."

"Greg…" Sara's right eye began twitching. "You're sixteen."

"That's not the point." He removed himself from the chair, standing to face Sara. He inwardly sighed when he realised they were still the same height. And he knew he wasn't as intimidating when she still made fun of his hair.

He actually liked it blonde.

"What's the point, then?"

"Hey, Griss." Greg said cheerfully as he hopped on the counter. Inwardly laughing when Sara stumbled, almost hitting the wall.

"Greg, Sara." Grissom nodded at them respectively.

"Grissom." Sara nodded as she composed herself, watching Grissom take a seat by the refrigerator.

"Sara doesn't agree that my dashing good looks don't reflect the extent of my maturity."

Grissom tilted his head, giving Sara a puzzled expression. Prompting her to explain further.

"Our new client called him kid, and Greg only heard about it because he was listening in on adult conversation, again. Through the intercom I told him to take down last week."

"You shouldn't have said anything, Greg." Grissom shook his head at Greg in mock disappointment. "Next time, don't get caught."

"Grissom." Sara looked at him, confused and not understanding. "He was just-"

"Told you Sara." Greg stuck out his tongue, indulging in the childish action. "He encourages me."

"What about our new client?" Grissom's eyes were on Sara as he told Greg to get off the counter with a subtle motion of his finger.

"Nick Stokes."

"From Texas. The youngest son of oil mongrel Bill Stokes."

"How do you know?" Sara asked Greg.

"I watch the news…Every once in a while...Stop looking at me like that, Sara."

"Does this have anything to do with…I can't believe it. Little Greggy has a crush."

"I do not." Greg protested.

"You should have seen the way he was staring at him, Griss. And when he walked-"

Grissom raised his hand in between them, halting the conversation. "Now is neither the time nor the place."

"I don't…" Greg mumbled under his breath, backing away from Grissom's admonishing expression.

"But since you're so interested, I want you to begin research on anyone who would hold any resentment with Bill Stokes."

"Almost anyone." Sara took a seat beside Grissom.

"Are the police going to be involved?" Greg asked, wondering if they were going to get help with this one.

"No, Mr. Stokes requested that the authorities aren't involved."

"Makes sense…Oh and Sara, did you turn in your new schedule for the internship?"

"Yep. I made Greg drop it off for me."

"She's a slave driver, Grissom."

"For that little errand..." She trailed off, turning her attention back to Grissom. Thinking about what he said earlier. "I can't believe you're actually going to make him work."

"I can't believe you're letting me do real work." Greg ignored Sara's comment. Too excited to care. "This is going to be the greatest summer job. I think I want to be a detective or something when I grow older." He said wistfully.

"There's still time, Greg."

"Speaking of time," Greg looked at his watch. "It's certainly past my pseudo-shift. So I'll be leaving, now."

"Where are you going? You said you were going to file this mess before the end of the day." Sara pointed at the pile of papers and folders on Grissom's desk. Scattered over the surface and wholly unorganised. Some ready to fall to the floor.

And others already on it.

"Sorry, Sara. I know you'll be lost without me, but I'm going over to Ryan's house."

"I thought this was the greatest summer job?" She picked up the red and grey backpack from the floor, handing it to Greg.

"He got a Super NES for his birthday."

Grissom and Sara looked at him expectantly, waiting for some sort of significance.

"With Super Mario World."


Ryan opened the door, peering out when he didn't immediately see someone on his porch. "Whose beat up car is that in my driveway?" He stared at the old Volkswagen, paint burgundy and chipped.

"Is that how you talk to your best friend?" Greg appeared in front of Ryan, removing himself from his hiding spot in the corner.

"You…You grew." Ryan exclaimed, noticing that Greg was as tall as he was.

"I told you I would. And I'm going to be taller than you, too."

"And you dyed your hair again." Ryan cautiously reached out for a blonde strand, not quite sure if it was safe to touch. "Your hair's going to fall out if you keep dying it so much."

"I always wanted to be bald, anyway." Greg shrugged his shoulders as he passed Ryan, heading up the stairs.

"Whatever you say. Don't forget to take your shoes off." Ryan locked the front door, wincing when he heard Greg's shoes tumbling down the carpeted stairs and eventually landing on the hardwood floor. "Mom's not here to see you, but I'll tell her you stopped by."

"That means I don't have to keep my voice down."

Ryan only clicked his tongue, following his friend up the stairs. "How was your first day at work? First job for you, anyway. Was it exciting?"

"Yeah…We got a case, too." Greg paused, his eyes searching Ryan's room. "I have to do actual work, but I think it'll be worth it."

Ryan walked in front of his friend, wondering where his attention was. "What are you looking at? I just cleaned it before you came." And vacuumed it, too. But Ryan didn't say that out loud.

"Dude." Greg engaged Ryan in hug, his eyes landing on the new console on the floor, beneath the entertainment centre. "I so love you."

"Only for my stuff." He scoffed, trying to push Greg off. "Selling out for a SNES."

"And nothing else." Greg smiled against Ryan's shoulder.

"Yeah, thanks for wishing me a happy birthday." Ryan folded his arms when Greg moved away.

"Well, I'm glad you didn't go to Miami, this summer. I would have missed you too much."

"Uh…" Ryan was a little uncomfortable by the admission, not as open in his feelings as his friend. "Stop being so sappy over a game, man."

"You're my best friend and I'm sucking up." Greg pulled the console out, standing up with two controllers in hand. "It's either that or I'm stuck with my uncle and Sara. And Sara's hot, but she's Sara, you know?"

"Greg, don't do that." Ryan sat on his knees, watching Greg unravel the cord of the controller by holding the port and letting the other end fall. "It was neat and organised."

"I seriously think you have OCD, sometimes." Greg spoke as he connected the two controllers.

"Don't say that. It's not funny." Ryan frowned as he inserted the game cartridge. "I just like when things are in order." Taking one controller and sitting on his bed.

"Sure…" Greg nodded his head, not really paying attention to Ryan's defence. "How far have you gotten?"

"I actually waited for you."

"I think I am in love." Greg scooted next to Ryan. His back against the bed and his head resting on Ryan's legs. "You actually waited for me."

"Man, get off me."

"You're comfortable."

"Get a pillow."

"I don't want to move."

"Move your hands from out of my face."

"I don't say anything when you stretch."

"That's because I'm not doing it in front of your face."

"I didn't know it bothered you that much…" Greg scrunched his face as he began to stand. Surprised Ryan was behaving so distant, lately. But even more so when he was pulled back down.

"No!" Once planted on the floor, Greg turned to look at Ryan. His eyebrows raised in question about his friend's behaviour.

"I mean," Ryan tried to laugh off his actions. His face flushing heavily and his body almost rigid in his embarrassment. "I don't want you to move."

Greg turned to look at Ryan, his expression unreadable.

"No, that didn't come out right." Ryan ran his hand through his hair, trying to control his nervousness. "Just forget that ever happened."

Greg internally wondered if what Sara said was right. But thought better of it as he sat against Ryan, once more. There was no way his best friend liked him. Not in that more than friends way that she kept suggesting.

Besides…He still hadn't liked anyone like that…Even if Sara was teasing him about Nick.

He was just taken by surprise, that's all.

"I already know you're weird. So I don't hold it against you. Personally, I think you've been spending too much time in that Miami heat."

"How does that excuse you, then?" Ryan sighed; grateful Greg had dismissed his strange behaviour.

"Are you implying something, Ryan?" Greg turned to face him, eyes narrowing in mock anger. "That I'm weird?"

"So seriously," Ryan rolled his eyes, using the remote to turn on the television. "What did you get me for my birthday? And don't try to get out of it because I won't let you go until to you tell me."

"I didn't forget." Greg rested his weight on one side as wiggled a small green package from his pocket. Using the floor as leverage. "Here."

He watched as Ryan held it carefully. Slowly peeling off the tape and taking forever to remove the actual wrapping paper. Good thing he didn't add a bow. "If you don't hurry up, I'm going to do it for you."

"I'm coming." Ryan licked his lips, concentrating on not ripping the paper, giving the removed pieces to Greg. "Throw this in the trash, would you?" He tried to contain his irritation as Greg tried to throw the paper in the trash. Missing it by a mile. "Greg."

"All right, all right." Greg made a spectacle of standing up. Dragging himself to put the paper away in the trash can.

On the other side of Ryan's room.

He made his way back to his friend as he was taking off the plastic. Ryan lifted his head to look at Greg quizzically.

"Isn't this that game you wanted to play, Greg?"

"Yep."

"And you only have your old NES, right?"

"Yeah."

"So I should expect you coming over every day after this?"

"Uh-huh."


Disclaimer: Don't own it.

So, I really didn't want to do this, but with five out of seven chapters done, I went against my better judgement. And I will probably be weeping by the end of this.

Because as much as I love my Nick/Greg - and Ryan/Greg - Sara/Greg friendship does not get the credit it deserves. (And I can't believe I'm adding in GSR - I feel so...dirty)