A/N: Nothing too substantial for this one, but I love that little Sara/Greg hug scene in the beginning of the episode. So this came from that :)
Spoilers for episode 4x20, Dead Ringer.
"Hey," Greg said as he poked his head into the locker room. "Ready to run?"
"Greg, the race is over," I said, pulling out my jacket and bag. "We don't have to train any more."
He shrugged.
"So?"
I sighed, but smiled in spite of myself, and threw my stuff back in my locker, exchanging them for my running shoes and a pair of shorts. Greg had been a good running partner. I'd tried training with Nick and Warrick once, but the two were so competitive, all they were concerned with was who could make it to the end of the corner, around the block, to the end of the street, faster. I guess they've never heard of slow and steady wins the race. Greg, on the other hand, talked incessantly while we ran, but we matched pace perfectly, and his chatter actually entertained me while we ran.
"Give me ten minutes," I told him.
I met him in the parking lot, and after a few minutes of stretching, we took off down the road.
"So how's the training coming, field boy?" I asked.
"Good," he grinned. "So much better than being stuck in the lab all day."
"Rumor has it you're good at it," I said as he raised his eyebrows. "Nick."
"Well," he said, considerably surprised, but also sounding pleased. "I guess I like the guy after all."
I rolled my eyes at him.
"But I can't find anybody to possibly take my place in DNA," he continued. "And it won't matter how much training I get or how good I am at field work if I can't find a replacement. I mean, DNA isn't that bad. And the lab's far enough away from Trace and freakin' Hodges."
I snorted. I didn't like the guy either.
"I don't know what I'm going to do," he went on. "I mean, I'm going to be so disappointed if all this work turns out to be for nothing, and I can't get into the field."
"You will," I cut in to reassure him. "You'll find someone."
"Thanks," he said, grinning. "And what about you? How have you, y'know… been doing lately?"
I chewed on my lip. Greg had been really helpful last we'd talked. He hadn't fixed any of my problems, but he sure made me smile about them, at least for a little while. I'd been looking forward to this run to listen to Greg's babble and clear my mind… but maybe a little conversation on my end wouldn't hurt.
"Okay, I guess."
"Now that's reassuring."
I shrugged.
"I'm dealing with it."
"Have you heard anything about the promotion yet?"
"Not yet," I said. "Rumors… but nothing factual."
"Well, you still have my vote."
This was why I loved Greg.
"And I still haven't gotten to work with you in the field," he said. "Will you bestow all your knowledge onto me, Oh Great Sara Sidle?"
I laughed.
"You're a dork, Greg."
"Hey, dorks can be lovable."
I elbowed him in the side as we ran.
"Yes, they can."
For the rest of our run, Greg rambled on about what he'd learned in the field so far, what he wanted to learn, what was on T.V. that night, the new club opening up downtown and the snowboarding trip to Denver that he was planning. I ran silently, appreciating the fact that Greg was able to lift my spirits in a way no one else could. I came home with a smile on my face.
But the minute I stepped foot in my apartment, the unhappiness flooded over me once more. It was like some stupid illness that I couldn't fight off, the symptoms would fade for a little while, and I'd think everything was all right, but the second I started thinking things might be better now, it came back in full force. Grissom wasn't acting as impassive lately as he had been, but… that still didn't mean he was acting like my friend again, either. Things were far from normal.
My run with Greg left my stomach growling, so I kicked my shoes off and opened the fridge. I sighed. I'd desperately needed groceries for weeks now, but it was one more thing I had neglected. My fridge contained exactly three cartons of vanilla yogurt and a six-pack of beer.
I didn't feel like yogurt.
Beer it was.
