A/N: Just a short little sandleish oneshot I thought up while trying to find a middle to one of my other oneshot that has yet to be finished. All of the terms Greg uses are actual terms of the Rat Pack, used in their music and old film noir movies. Eleen, you actually inspired this one and probably don't know it. I'm not going to use the terms in part too of you know what but I decided to make a short little thing featuring your idea, including Sara understanding him.
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or any of the characters.
"Hey Pallie, what's swinging?" Greg directed at Warrick and Nick as he took a seat across from them at the break room table.
"What?" Nick scrunched his face, setting his coffee cup down on the table, his palms finding refuge at the edge.
"What to repeat that?" Warrick questioned form his place beside Nick, a look of bewilderment clear on his features.
"I said," Greg began again, irritated that his friends couldn't understand him, "Hey Pallie, what's swinging?"
"In English please…" Nick pleaded.
He generally had a hard time understanding Greg. Hell, who didn't? The only one who even came close to understanding him one hundred percent of the time was Sara; however, Nick doubted that even she would get this strange form of code-talk. It was just plain ridiculous.
"English? That was English! Although I could give you the Norwegian if you like." Greg noted, taking a sip of his Blue Hawaiian.
"Norwegian would be even more Greek to me than your English was." Nick rhymed off, causing Warrick to choke on a mouthful of coffee.
"How about you just say it so that we understand you?" Warrick asked after he got the drink down.
"Hey guys, how's it going?" Is that better for you two gofers?"
"Gofers?" Nick inquired.
"And you couldn't say that in the first place, why?" Warrick asked, ignoring the random animal name thrown into the sentence.
"Noun. Gofers. A term for someone who does menial jobs." Greg recited.
"I think the aliens from planet whoop-whoop made him do it." Nick added.
"Ha-ha! Ha-ha! Ha…" Greg let his fake laughter trail off. "You both fracture me."
"Fracture?"
"Warrick, man, why are you even bothering to ask?"
"Because then the next time he says it I won't need an explanation. Greggo, what does it mean?"
"Verb. Fractures. To make laugh, such as used in my previous statement."
"What are you, a dictionary or something?" Nick asked, surprised that they were getting straight to the point definitions.
"Capital term for me, Charlie."
"My name is Nick."
"Such mundane facts bore me."
"Hello boys, what's up?" Catherine said as she strode into the room, joining them at the table.
"Not too much, Cath." Nick replied as he got up and dumped the rest of his coffee down the small sink by the far wall.
"Nothing here." Warrick noted.
"Just having a motherly time with my pals, barn burner."
"Motherly?" Warrick raised an eyebrow.
"Terrific." Greg replied.
"What did you just call me?" Catherine stormed.
"What, is it a crime to call my co-worker a stylish, classy woman?"
"It is if she doesn't know what you are saying and takes it as an insult." Nick said form the door. "I'm out. I really need to get back to processing that Escort Grissom found abandoned in the alley off of Tropicana."
"I need to get going too. Mandy should have those partials matched for me by now." Warrick stated as he followed Nick out.
"Good night all!" Greg called after them, before turning to face Catherine at his left. "So, it looks like it is just you and me coo-coo- chick. What do you say we break out the gasoline and fall victim to a little hey-hey?" He jested, knowing full well that he would rather engage in romance with Sara. Although, Catherine, not having an inkling of what he was probably saying, would be good enough to tease. It's not like he actually meant it. Besides, alcohol on the job was prohibited.
"Well, I'm not sure was hey-hey is but I have to go." Catherine replied as she stood up and began wiping invisible dirt off of he pants.
"What? You're going to Splitsville already? But you just got here! Your break is half an hour not two minutes!" Greg protested as he stood up, not wanting to be left alone for another twenty minutes or so.
"I'm not on my break yet Greg. I just came down here to see if I could find Grissom, but he appears to be elsewhere so I have to, like you said, split." Catherine answered as she walked out the door, not looking back at Greg once.
"Fine! Be that way!" Greg cried dramatically.
He stomped over to the beaten, deep red sofa, plopping down onto one of the lumpy cushions, hoping to drown in his loneliness. The one thing he hated most was being alone somewhere, giving him no one to strike up conversation with or to keep entertained.
However, his solitude didn't last long as a very tired looking Sara Sidle trudged into the room and flopped down right beside him.
"Urgh! I'm beat." She exclaimed as she let her head fall back against the deep colored cushion.
"What ails you doll face?" Greg inquired as he stretched and not-so-subtly let his arm fall around Sara's shoulders.
She giggled lightly, being used to Greg's Rat Pack talk and his friendly gestures towards her. She knew he had liked her for quite a long time, and in truth, she liked him as well; but being Sara Sidle, she enjoyed teasing him and playing hard to get, not reacting externally to any of his advances.
"The homicide I'm on with Grissom is brutal, not to mention I'm nearly maxed out on overtime."
"Sounds like you're in a fix."
"I am." Sara yawned, "Not to mention I'm about to fall asleep at any given moment."
"You going to spend break sleeping?"
"I intend to."
"Then let me get you a pillow m'lady." Greg grinned as he took hold of Sara's head and lowered it down to rest on his chest.
Sara chuckled, "Thanks Greg."
"Anytime, Sara."
She lifted her legs up, tucking them underneath her as she wrapped an arm around Greg's waist, pulling herself closer to his body. Greg welcomed her cuddling as he ran his fingers duskily through her silky hair. Her breathing began to slow as she fell peacefully asleep to the steady sound of his heart beating.
Realizing that his break was almost over, Greg leaned down and gave her an ashen kiss on the forehead. Being careful not to wake her up, he gently pried her arms away from him, got up, and laid her back down slowly onto the lumpy couch.
As quietly as he could, Greg tiptoed to the door, only to be met by Grissom inside the frame.
"Greg, have you seen Sar-" He was cut off by Greg putting a finger to his lips, making a shushing sound.
He moved swiftly aside so Grissom could see Sara's sleeping form.
"Hush Griss, the mouse if off in dream land."
"Mouse?" Grissom furrowed his brow.
"Noun. A generally petite, feminine girl who invites being cuddling."
"And you know that Sara likes to cuddle, how?"
Greg just tossed his boss a wink and a smile before walking out into the corridor, whistling a willowy tune.