Part Three - Conversations

(Fight Night)

Sara didn't even try to keep back a smile as she watched Brass lead a handcuffed Javier Molina from the interview room, feeling the familiar sense of satisfaction that came with a case being closed, with the bad guy being brought to justice. This was one of the reasons why she loved her job.

She was standing up from the table when she heard Warrick's voice, low and teasing, behind her. "I don't see a spit bucket around so this must be a real smile…"

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she swung around, fixing him with a hard look. "Funny," she said, in a tone that conveyed it was anything but, and he laughed, holding up his hands as if in surrender.

"Little touchy there are we?"

He was laughing, but she wasn't; in truth, it was a sore subject for her. "Like I said, every CSI has a problem area…" Except that she hated admitting to hers, in any arena, the perfectionist in her hating to admit to any flaws.

"I know that," Warrick told her, interrupting her. "It's just gratifying to know that you're human is all."

He was still joking, still teasing, but for some reason the barb went straight to her heart. It shouldn't have, she knew that, after all, it was far from the first time that she'd ever heard that charge levelled at herself. It was just that she thought that she'd changed, or at the very least was making an effort to change, her relationship with Hank was proof of that. She was doing what Grissom had told her, she was getting a life, she was getting over him.

She'd thought she was doing a good job of it.

"Speaking of human," Warrick continued, unaware of her thoughts, "How's the boyfriend?"

"Boyfriend?" She blinked, shifting on her feet slightly. "What boyfriend?"

Earlier, she'd resisted the temptation to roll her eyes, now Warrick showed no such willpower. "Hank?" he asked, putting a world of questions into one word, a wide smile spreading across his face. "C'mon, I've seen the way he looks at you…"

"We're friends," she said, strangely reluctant to let Warrick in on the fact that they were quite a bit more than friends, had been for the last number of weeks. Which was odd, because this was Warrick, and if there was anyone that she would have shared details of her personal life with, it was him, her friend lacking both Grissom's taciturn ways and the little brother teasing of Nick and Greg. Of course, the last time she'd told Warrick something about her relationship with Hank, it had been all over the CSI lab in days. Still though, he'd surely learned his lesson about it, there was no way he'd let the same thing slip twice, not if she warned him not to. She was all ready to tell him the truth, but what came out instead was "We hang out sometimes…"

"Uh-huh." Warrick clicked his tongue, eyes dancing, obviously hugely amused. "I believe you." Except that he clearly didn't, and she didn't blame him in the slightest. Her tone wouldn't have convinced even herself. "Shame about that though…that you're not dating him I mean…"

The way his voice trailed off signalled loud and clear that he had a zinger lined up for her, and she resolved that she would not ask him. She would not.

"Why?"

His whole face lit up, as if he couldn't believe that she'd bitten, and he wasn't the only one. She mentally kicked herself as he said, "After the thing with the wraps, him leading you to them like that? You owe him a big thank you…" His meaning was clear, and she felt a rush of heat coating her cheeks, one that only grew stronger when he broke into more laughter. "Sure you don't want to reconsider your answer?"

There was only one thing for her to do - gather what remained of her dignity and make a graceful exit. "I'm not answering that," she said, sailing out of the room, hearing him following after her, still chuckling, but at least not saying anything further on the subject on the way back to CSI.

It might have been that he was giving her a break, or it might have been that he was trying to get into her good books, but either way, once they got back to CSI, Warrick offered to get a jump on the case paperwork, an offer which she was only too glad to accept, no matter what might have spawned it. Promising to catch up to him in a few minutes, Sara made her way to the break room, helping herself to some of Greg's famous coffee, pouring herself a cup, before turning to see Nick sitting at the table, a scowl darkening his features. "Hey," she said, her brows raising in surprise when she received barely a grunt in response. "What's up?"

"You know what a piffling is?" he asked, looking up at her almost angrily, and she blinked in surprise.

"It's a young puffin isn't it?" she replied, not sure from whence that bit of useless knowledge came from, and not understanding when his look of anger changed to surprise, and he lifted a hand in mingled shock and confusion.

"You see? You know that, and it's no big deal. Grissom goes on about bugs and he's learned. I make one nature reference, and I get mocked."

Sara narrowed her eyes, sure that she'd missed something somewhere. "I wasn't mocking you," she said, running over her words to make sure.

"Not you," Nick allowed. "But you want to tell me why you and Warrick get to work the boxing murder, Catherine gets to work the gang member murder, and I get stuck with a smash and grab?"

Sara shrugged her shoulders. "Luck of the draw?" she suggested, but Nick's exasperated look told her that it wasn't the answer he was looking for. "Sorry."

Her hasty apology had him shaking his head. "You know what I mean," he muttered, and she did, having had this particular conversation with Nick in varying stages of sobriety over the last couple of years.

"We've all got cases like that," she reminded him. "Remember the gorilla skull?"

He snickered. "Yeah," he allowed. "And I did manage to clear my case quicker than any of the rest of you." His grin was teasing, and this time, she didn't rise to the bait.

"There you go," she told him, raising her coffee cup in salute to him. "Besides, it was a solo case…isn't that what you've always said you wanted?" The memory came to her, of him crouching near the Newman swimming pool when Grissom had sent her to work the cheerleader case at Tuscadero High School; when she'd been called in on her day off, when she'd walked off in a huff with Grissom over the attitude he'd given her, when Nick had stared at her, wondering why she got to work solo and he didn't.

His eyes darkened, and she knew that she shouldn't have said that, should have quit while she was ahead, but it was too late now. "Well, you know what they say Sara," he said quietly. "We should be careful what we wish for."

She was saved from having to make any reply by a third presence entering the room, and she blinked in surprise, because only a second earlier, she'd been thinking about a case they'd worked together. "Stokes," Cyrus said, looking directly at Nick at first, as if he didn't realise that Sara was in the room. "You're late." Looking then at Sara, he nodded again. "Sara."

"Hey Cyrus," she said, eyes darting between them with interest as Nick looked at his watch, any darkness in his countenance being chased away by a look of surprise. "Late for what?"

"Pick up basketball game," Cyrus told her, and she regarded them both in surprise.

"I never knew you guys played."

"Couple mornings a week," Nick confirmed. "When Lockwood feels like getting his ass kicked."

"He exaggerates," Cyrus scoffed, and Nick chuckled softly, shaking his head, looking from Cyrus to Sara.

"I really don't. You should come watch if you don't believe me." He was talking to Sara, but his eyes were going between Cyrus and Sara, and there was something in his eyes that Sara had never seen there before and didn't understand. She looked to Cyrus as if he would help her out, but his face remained impassive.

"Good as that invitation sounds," she said, draining her cup in a couple of large mouthfuls, "Some of us aren't finished our case paperwork, and if you think Warrick is gonna do it on his own…" She let her voice trail off, letting them imagine Warrick's reaction that that particular suggestion. "Best of luck to you though."

"You're sure you won't come and cheerlead for us?" Nick quipped as she walked out of the room, and she didn't reply, just turned slightly and fixed him with one of her strongest patented Sara-glares, his laughter following her down the hall.