Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot!


Sara looked up from the folder she was reading as a loud and rhythmic thunking noise came towards her. She looked up and down the hall, but could not find the source. That is, until she looked ahead once more and saw Greg coming towards her. Now, this wasn't anything new. Greg walked these halls all the time, being a fellow CSI and all, but the closer he got the louder the thunk thunk noise got. She glanced down at the ground and almost fainted.

Adorning his feet were a pair of black, genuine leather cowboy boots, complete with spurs that were kicked up so as not to rattle on the polished floor. The Californian looked completely comfortable in this out of character attire, even with the slight heel, and walked as if he wore them all the time. Sara looked back up as he passed her and caught the conspiratorial wink.

"They ain't mine, dahlin'." He said, affecting a Southern twang just to show her whose boots they really were. Then he was past her, thrusting his hands in his jean pockets and speaking over his shoulder. "And I ain't given 'em back till I get sex. Thinks he can resist the great Greg Sanders for a whole week? I'll show him." Sara dropped her folder when Nick came running around the corner with a desperate look on his face.

"Baby please take 'em off, you know what they do to me!" He called down the hall. And then Sara fainted.