Disclaimer: I do not own Greg Sanders or Didi, I just borrowed them, put them together, and watched to see what happened. I hope you like the outcome. J
It was late. Very late. And Greg Sanders was still in the lab. He was working on a case for Grissom and Catherine, and he was no where near being done.
Standing up, Greg heard several of his vertebrae pop. He winced.
"I need some caffeine," he muttered and slunk off towards the lounge.
Once in the break room, Greg poured himself a cup of coffee and was about to sit down and enjoy it. Turning towards the door, he saw a figure leaning against the door frame. It was a young woman, probably in her late teens or early twenties. She was pretty, in a very gothic sense. Her outfit consisted of black pants, a black jacket over a black tank top, black boots, and a black hat on top of her black hair. Around her neck, the girl wore a silver ankh on a long chain. Despite her appearance, the girl wore a cheerful smile.
Greg sighed. Another morbid nutcase who's come to hang around the morgue.
"May I help you?" he asked.
The ebony-clothed girl shook her head. "Not particularly. There isn't anyone else still around, so I thought I'd come talk to you."
A bit confused, Greg shrugged. "Okay, but I'm going back to work in a few minutes."
"That's perfect!" said the girl. "I have to leave in a few minutes. I love meeting new people; I always try to talk to as many people as I can each time I come here."
Greg looked puzzled. "Great, I guess. Well, I'm Greg Sanders."
"I'm Didi," she replied, extending her hand to Greg, who took it.
"So, Didi, what prompted you to come to the CSI building? You're not one of those creepy body snatcher types, are you?"
Didi laughed, a clear, ringing laugh that filled the lounge. "No, Greg. I just like to come to one of these places every once in a while. It puts things in perspective, you know? I'm always around after people are murdered, and I'm fascinated by what you people do."
By this time, Greg was beginning to get worried. What did she mean by she was always around after people are murdered? Maybe she was a nutcase after all.
Apparently, Greg's bewilderment showed on his face. Didi giggled. "You look confused."
"To put it mildly, yes," Greg replied.
"It's alright. I'd tell you who I really am, but people usually get upset when I tell them that, and I don't like to make people upset."
"I'll talk your word for it," Greg said slowly. This night was getting stranger and stranger.
"Do you mind if I sit down?" asked Didi.
"Uh, no, go ahead," Greg responded, taking a seat on the opposite end of the couch.
"Thanks. I love couches. They're so comfortable. And squishy. I like that word, squishy. It's fun to say."
Greg stared at his companion. "How old did you say you were?"
"I didn't," said Didi. "But for all necessary purposes, I'm sixteen."
"Wow. Now I feel old. Isn't it sort of late for you to be out by yourself?"
"Nah. But let's not talk about me. What exactly do you do here?"
Greg smiled sheepishly. "I'm a laboratory technician. A lab rat, in layman's terms."
"That must be very exciting, seeing all the evidence from a crime scene and being the one to interpret it. You must be very valuable."
Blushing, Greg said, "I guess. I'd rather not talk about me. Let's do talk about you. Your choice of wardrobe, for instance. Are you nocturnal or gothic?"
"Neither," said Didi. "I guess I just like the color. I've always worn black. Hey, do you like "Mary Poppins"?"
"Uh, well, I haven't watched in years, but, yeah, I guess it's alright."
"I love it. I watch it every chance I get! Dick van Dyke's accent is absolutely fantabulous."
The pair sat in silence for a moment. Greg was still a bit puzzled about his late night visitor, but he decided that he liked her lively sense of humor.
"Well," said Greg, breaking the silence, "I really do have to get back to work."
"Oh. Busy day today?"
"Actually, come to think of it," Greg answered, "today was really slow. In fact, I don't think we had a single new case. That's really strange."
Didi smiled to herself, as if she was remembering an old inside joke. She's beautiful when she smiles, Greg thought. Taking a deep breath, he mustered up a bit of courage and spoke.
"I was wondering, maybe, if you're not busy, we could go get a cup of coffee or something later. I should be done in a few minutes. I know the age difference is a little odd, and I'd understand if you said no, but--"
Didi put her finger to his lips. She smiled. "It's alright. I would love to go with you, and I'm very flattered. I think you're kinda cute. But I can't. I have to go, and I won't be back for a long time."
Looking downcast, Greg nodded jerkily. "Just thought I'd ask."
Still smiling a little, Didi leaned over to Greg and placed her lips on his. A bit taken aback, Greg nearly pulled away. Thankfully, logic set in at that moment, and he returned the kiss.
A few blissful moments late, Didi pulled back a bit and grinned. "I'm glad to have met you, Greg Sanders," she said quietly. "I have to leave now. But I'll see you again. Not for a long time, but I'll definitely see you again."
With that, Didi got up off of the couch and walked out the door.
Greg sat for a few minutes, a little stunned by the entire incident. He wished she didn't have to go, but the kiss made up for it. She'd said he was cute. He'd have an interesting story to tell to Archie the next day. Sighing, Greg stood, stretched, and returned to the lab, still thinking about his perky, gothic beauty.