Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine, though I wouldn't mind having a certain blue eyed gentleman…

Spoilers: none

Summary: Sara and Greg, two days in high school, and such joyous fun.

Rating: Let's just say you won't go blind by reading this…

Sara Sidle walked into her homeroom and sat next to her best (and only) friend Greg Sanders. He looked up from his 10-inch thick book on DNA Processing and smiled a big, quirky, braced grin. "Hey there, Sar-Bear. You're later than usual."

Sara grinned, revealing a wide gap between her teeth. Her glasses surrounded chocolate brown eyes, a slight contrast to her friend's green-blue eyes. "Technically, I'm very, very early. I was helping the woman in the office sort out all her papers and files, so she wrote me a pass and signed me in very early. Say, forty-five minutes ago."

Greg stared at her, eyes wide. "How do you get in that doggone early?"

Sara laughed deeply and smiled once again. "Oh, the glories of being a straight A+ 100 student who also happens to live next door to, thus receiving a ride from, the office lady. They trust me enough to let me in as early as I want to be there, within the limits of reasonable sanity."

He laughed. "Oh, so you don't think they would trust me to wander the halls at such an early, God-forsaken hour?" Sara looked at him, one eyebrow raised high. "Oh. Okay, obviously, you don't think they would. Well, why not? I get just as good of grades as you get."

"Yes, well, your grades fade in comparison to your class-clown actions. Though you may be a self-proclaimed genius," He cleared his throat, "and of course, I also believe you are, but even when a genius plays some prank, the office notices and gets very wary of said genius."

"You could get away with anything you wanted. You could come to school in clothes that are against the rules of dress code, and forget your homework, and never listen to the teacher for a whole week, and they wouldn't even slap you on the wrist, for fear that it would ruin your hand, thus effectively ruining your perfectly worded essays."

Sara laughed at him. "Oh, whatever you say, wise one. Did you study your science notes last night?"

He blushed and looked down. "Uh… well, not really. I mean, bugs just aren't my thing. Now, DNA… that, I could teach the class better than the teacher, without effort. I mean, it's not that I didn't try to study… I really did. I sat there for four straight hours going over the material. But none of it soaked in. I mean, come on. Its bugs. They aren't that interesting."

Sara gave him a mockingly reproving glance. "Au contraire, my good sir. The bugs, they are fascinating. The Beatles, for instance… they rock."

Greg laughed loudly, earning himself a few violated glares. "Oh my gosh, woman. That's insane. You have so many issues in this life; I don't even begin to know where to start. Beatles? As in the insect? Those things suck hard."

Sara just looked at him again. "Seriously though, Greggo. You really need to study. This is the hardest chapter for you, which means it's also going to be the hardest exam for you. If you start studying every night, then maybe the material will stick with you. You should try it sometime. It's what I do, and look at me. I know all the material before we even finish the chapter. I know yesterdays notes by heart, which is why I'm the star science student and you are not."

Greg threw her a rather violated glance and returned to his book without commenting to her. She laughed and opened a very thick volume on Physics.

In science class, which both agreed was their favorite subject, Sara and Greg were forced to sit in different places. It hadn't been purposeful, but at the beginning of the year, the teacher had drawn up a seating arrangement and they had to sit in those seats for the rest of the year, beg though they might. They each walked to their assigned spots and Greg looked at his teacher, cocking his head to one side. Mr. Jocksen, their teacher, did not look well. He actually looked quite the contrary, which was unusual for this teacher. He always looked healthy and revived.

Greg sat in his usual seat and began to take the rubber bands off his braces. So the whole metal mouth thing made him look like a huge geek… he could still fling the bands at people. In particular, a certain Vulcanish looking brunette.

He watched as she sat down and opened her gargantuan binder. Her textbook fell, and as she bent to pick it up, Greg quickly yanked the bands out of his mouth. He hid them in one hand and smiled charmingly at Sara. She smiled back and turned her attentions to the chalkboard as the final bell rang. Several students shuffled in as if D-day had come again or something evenly morbid.

Mr. Jocksen smiled at the class with a rather tired look in his eyes. "Hello, everyone. I trust you all reviewed your notes thanks to my not-so-conspicuous hint it a pop quiz?" Here, several students nodded and murmured a reply, while others looked around sheepishly. "Good. Well, time for that quiz then."

As the teacher turned his back to retrieve the tests, Greg flung one of his rubber bands directly at Sara. It landed on her hand and she hurriedly picked it off in disgust, making a wonderfully horrified face.

Mr. Jocksen turned back around, a confused look on his face. "Well, I guess we won't be taking that test after all. I seem to have misplaced the copies." About three quarters of the students sighed in grateful relief, until they saw Sara's hand raise high in the air. "Yes, Ms. Sidle?"

"Sir, the tests are in the left hand side of your desk, second drawer down, under the attendance notebook, which you forgot to fill in." She smiled as he gratefully thanked her and pulled out the tests.

Greg glared at the back of her neck as Mr. Jocksen took roll call. For that, she deserved a very spitty band. He stuck it back in his mouth, effectively covering it in saliva and quickly flung it at her. She wrinkled her nose and hissed sharply through her teeth.

After roll call, the students received the tests and almost all of them (Greg and Sara excluded) groaned protestingly in unison. This was more of an end-of-year exam than a simple pop quiz.

Sara and Greg tied for the first person to be finished with the test, as usual. Then, gradually, the rest of the class filed up to the desk as if it were the guillotine, waiting to chop off their heads (or give them a failing grade) at a moments notice.

After the test was completed, Mr. Jocksen stood up and cleared his throat. "Uh, everyone, I have an announcement to make. Tomorrow, I will be absent," Sara's eyes practically bulged out of her head, "however, in my absence, a close friend of mine will be here. He happens to be an entomologist. Can anyone tell me what that means?"

Sara's hand beat Greg's by a half of a millisecond. Mr. Jocksen glanced between the two of them, and finally, after throwing Greg an apologetic glance, called on Sara.

"Sir, entomology is the branch of zoology that pertains to the study of insects, such as beetles, roaches, and ants."

Mr. Jocksen blinked and smiled encouragingly at her. "You know, between you and Mr. Sanders, I have a hard time remembering who is the teacher and who is the student." They both smiled proudly at this praise. This was a prime example of why they loved science class the most of all.

Mr. Jocksen cleared his throat once more and continued. "As I was saying, I trust all of you will be kind to Dr. Grissom, for that is his name, and make him feel right at home. He has just gotten out of graduate school, which is coincidentally where I met him. If he gets stuck on any of the material, I'm sure all of you would be ready and willing to assist him with your uh… knowledge of this chapter." He grinned at Greg and Sara, for they were probably the only ones who passed his class without trying that hard. "Now, I feel it my duty to warn you that Mr. Grissom is not the sanest person you will ever meet. He will probably ask everyone millions of questions, half of which pertain to science, the other half pertaining to mere curiosity. And if some of you wouldn't mind, he will probably wish to sit with the students at lunch for no other apparent reason than to observe human behavior. He is rather odd that way. He is traveling here from Las Vegas, and I assure you his reputation there is far above that of normalcy. Though he steers away from politics as much as possible, he is an excellent CSI. Who can tell me what the occupation of CSI pertains to?"

Greg's hand won over this time and Mr. Jocksen chose him. "The initials CSI stand for Crime Scene Investigator. These people are also known as forensic scientists. They study a crime scene and find the evidence in said crime scene. Speaking of Las Vegas, the LVPD has been working its way to the top for the past six years. It was number fourteen for ten years." He smiled triumphantly at Sara, who shot him a grin and made an L with her fingers. She mouthed "Loser" at him and laughed silently.

Mr. Jocksen smiled. "Correct as usual. He is the one who has succeeded in bringing the rank of the LVPD up closer and closer to number one, though he hopes to never obtain that high of a ranking. He says that would bring far too much publicity for his liking, and as far as he's concerned, Quantico can keep the news and funding. So, you have been pre-warned. I expect most of the class to repeat the horrible tale to me. And also, he will be returning your quizzes to you, so expect some groaning if he ends up checking one or two last minute tests."

The class giggled. Mr. Jocksen was always moaning and groaning when tests were returned and someone did badly. If you knew he was checking your test, and he moaned, then you knew you were doing poorly.

Just then, the bell rang, signaling the end of class. Sara and Greg met at the door and walked to their lockers (which, coincidentally, where right next to each others). Greg grinned in a jester-like sort of way and shoved her lightly. "So, shrimpo, we're having a sub tomorrow. What do you make of that? I wonder why?" He peered off into space, deep in thought. He looked sort of like whata tenth grade Sherlock Holmes might have.

Sara smiled back at him. "Hey genius, maybe if you had followed the evidence, you might have noticed that Mr. Jocksen looked sick. Duh. It's not like it was some major mystery waiting to be solved. By the way, what's for lunch today? I'm never sure which is more potent," She pulled out her brown bagged lunch from home, "...my home-made lunch or the cafeteria food."

Greg peered into her lunch bag and grimaced. "I'd say go with the cafeteria. Oh, Papa Olaf made my lunch today. He's a cooking monster. It's fantastic. We can split it… for a price."

Sara grinned. "Okay, bucko. First, let me see the food. Then we'll discuss this price of yours."

As Sara and Greg entered the cafeteria, discussing the science test, the first thing they noticed was that their table was filled. About a dozen of the 'populars' were sitting at the almost-official 'science nerds only' table. Sara wrinkled her brow. "What on earth are they," she spat out the word like it was some contagious disease she had to get rid of, "doing over here? They should be at their table."

Greg shied back a little, not wanting to be part of this confrontation. Sara marched proudly over to her table and plunked down her food. The cheerleader captain, Stephanie, sneered up at her. "Excuse me, but what exactly do you think you are doing over here with us?"

Sara smiled in a mock-friendly way. "Oh, I'm sorry. See, I was under the impression that your table was over there." She waved a hand towards their usual table. "I'm just looking out for you. I wouldn't want you to actually have to catch our disease, just like I don't want to catch yours."

The whole table, and practically the whole cafeteria silenced. (This school was sort of melo-dramatic). Sara looked up and rolled her eyes. Then she looked back down at Stephanie, who had a death glare fixed upon Sara. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?" She doe-eyed Stephanie. "I'm so sorry. I give you my sincerest apologies and my deepest regrets. Oh wait, that's probably too big of words for you. Here, let me translate it for you. MOVE!" She smiled at the popular group and waved her hand back towards their table.

At first, no one so much as twitched a muscle. Then, an amazing event occurred. The biggest jock of all time, the 'hottest' boy there, stood up and walked back to his table. Sara smiled gratefully and whispered her thanks as he passed. He smiled back at her and whistled for the team. "Everybody get up and over here." They immediately obeyed and all the science geeks sat down and chattered away as if nothing had happened.

Greg came over and sat in front of her in amazement. "And you wonder why people worship the ground upon which you walk?"

She laughed. "It's not that tough to stand up for your rights. You should try it some time. It gives a great adrenaline rush!" She waggled her eyebrows at him and grabbed his lunch. "So whatcha got here?"

TBC (sorry for the abrupt end and the lengthy crap, but I did it anyway.) BTW, my sister would just like to mention that this was more or less her 'brilliant' idea; I just put it into words, chapters, and fanfiction. Thank you, and see you next time on… High School Days.