Part Twelve - Drydock Redux

(Lucky Strike)

Cyrus walked through the halls of the CSI lab, looking for Nick and Grissom, both of whom seemed to be doing a great job of hiding from him. He checked all the regular places to no avail, and he was walking by the break room when he saw a familiar crown of dark hair. He knew that he should keep walking, that he was there on legitimate business, but he couldn't resist.

A quick look around assured him that she was on her own, standing with her back to the door, pouring herself a cup of coffee. "That the good stuff?" he asked, and she turned to him, bestowing upon him a smile that almost stopped his heart. Right then and there, he decided that it had been worth stopping here, just for that sight.

"Only the good stuff for graveyard," she told him. "Greg takes good care of us." She glanced around the countertop then, as if looking for something. "You want?"

He held up a hand quickly. "None for me … I'm looking for Grissom and Nick. You haven't seen them?"

She shook her head, wrinkling her nose in what looked like disgust. "Probably out in the field," she said, and he got the feeling that she was an inch away from rolling her eyes, though he couldn't say why.

"I called Nick a few minutes ago," he objected. "He said they'd meet me here." She lifted an eyebrow, tilting her head in consideration of where they might be, and it was then that he remembered where he'd seen her looking like that before, where he'd heard her speak with just that tone in her voice. "You're dry-docked again, aren't you?"

Her jaw dropped, her face showing surprise that he'd worked that out, but to her credit, she recovered quickly, setting her jaw as if to contain her amusement, eyes to the ceiling. "Is it that obvious?" she asked, and he couldn't contain his amusement.

"I'm a detective, remember?" he asked. "I have excellent deductive skills."

She shot him a dirty look, then must have decided that there was no point in denying it. "Yes … I'm housebound. Again."

"You maxed out on overtime again?" Cyrus had never met anyone who had done it once, let alone twice in a matter of months, and she shifted uncomfortably on her feet.

"Yeah … " she said, looking down. "The Melissa Winters case wasn't strictly speaking supposed to be my first priority-" By which she meant that she shouldn't have been working on it at all, but he didn't call her on that and she didn't elaborate. "And I ran hard on the Eddie Willows case … " Which was another case that hadn't worked out the way that she'd wanted it to, and he'd had close-up encounters with her after each of them. "And I guess I lost track of stuff."

He shrugged, all interest in teasing her having disappeared once he remembered the look on her face at the end of those two cases. The look on her face now was a pale relation of those other looks, and he didn't think it would take much to push her back there. "Easily done," was all he said, moving the subject along. "So what are you doing if you're not out in the field?"

"Scut work. Testing samples, delivering messages, checking out everybody else's sandbox … " She made it sound like a fate worse than death, then suddenly her face lightened, a grin emerging. "Though I haven't checked out any carnivals yet."

It took him a second to realise that she was referencing a previous conversation, then he grinned too. "CSI Sidle, I'm shocked at you," he said, shaking his head in mock anger. "I would have thought you'd try harder than that."

"What can I say," she asked, spreading her hands wide, almost spilling her cup of coffee in the process. She took a second to steady it, making a face in the process that almost had Cyrus laughing out loud, but when she continued speaking, it was as if nothing had happened. "I have no sense of priorities."

"Remember who said that," he told her, his tone making it clear that he was joking, and she didn't reply, just rolled her eyes, taking another sip of her coffee. Glancing at his watch, Cyrus realised that he should be getting a move on, and he took a step back, looking over his shoulder just in case Nick or Grissom had decided to materialise there. "I should get going … " he said, intending to tell her that he'd talk to her later, but her voice calling his name stopped him, had him looking hard at her again.

"I … um … " Her lower lip disappeared again as she bit it nervously, and his fingers itched to take her chin in his hand, to physically stop her doing that, because he didn't want her to be nervous around him. Her shoulders rose and fell as she took a deep breath, moving closer towards him, keeping her voice down, even though they were the only two people in the room. "I just … I wanted to say … " What she wanted to say was pushed to the background however, when she was standing right in front of him, as she blinked in confusion, her nose wrinkling. She sniffed the air, looking left to right then right at him. "Do you smell garlic?"

It was her normal tone of voice, and now it was his turn to shift on his feet, but in embarrassment, not discomfort. "Yeah, that's me," he said, trying to be as matter of fact as possible, knowing that he was failing utterly. She narrowed her eyes in silent question, and he had no choice but to answer her. "Some of the guys decided to have a little fun at my expense," he explained. "They decided to decorate my locker with garlic … I'm searching for someone to scrub it top to bottom if you're interested … "

His offer went over her head, her still being stuck on the garlic issue. "Why would they-" she began, then her face cleared, and she burst into peals of laughter.

"Yes … some people seem to think that it's funny to imply that I might be looking for creatures of the night and vampire slayers, and have taken it upon themselves to look out for my welfare," he intoned flatly, carrying on the joke, and while it looked for a moment as if she was trying to school her features into a deadpan expression, it didn't last, another set of giggles escaping her.

"I'm sorry … " she began, but he cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"It's fine," he told her. "Mock me. Everyone else is." But in point of fact, while the laughter from the other detectives had grown really old really fast, he didn't think he'd ever get tired of seeing her laugh like that. Their last few encounters had been so deadly serious that he'd forgotten what a relaxed Sara Sidle looked like, and he thought, not for the first time, that he could get very used to it.

"OK," she said after a second, hand over her chest, taking deep breaths. "I'm fine. Calm again." He lifted a sceptical eyebrow, but she didn't crack, just nodded decisively. "What I was about to say … " Her voice trailed off, and she glanced down at the ground again.

"Sara?" he prompted gently after a moment, and she looked up, her face serious, eyes dark again. She hesitated again, and her mouth was open to speak when a new voice interrupted them.

"There you are," Nick said, looking right at Cyrus, his face falling for only the briefest of instants when he saw Sara standing on the other side of him. "Hey Sara," he said, nodding at his friend. "I didn't see you there."

Nick's eyes were darting from Cyrus to Sara, and Cyrus felt distinctly homicidal urges rising in him, to do both with Nick's timing and the fact that the other man was looking as if he was torn between amusement at interrupting them, and embarrassment for the same. Sara on the other hand seemed to have no reservations about what she should do, taking a step away from Cyrus, giving Nick a smile. "Hey Nick," she said, her serious demeanour instantly wiped away. "Cyrus was just giving me a great idea for decorations for your locker … " Her eyes danced with merriment and Cyrus was dumbstruck at what was the quickest turnaround in mood that he'd ever seen. He mentally added world's best actress to his catalogue of Sara's attributes, nearly missing as he did so Nick's reply.

"Why do I feel scared all of a sudden?"

Sara arched an eyebrow, moving past the two men to the door of the break room. "That would be telling," she teased, tossing them a grin over her shoulder. "Later guys."

Cyrus's eyes followed her progress down the hall, and only when she was out of sight did he focus on Nick's contrite expression. "Man, if I interrupted anything … " he began, and Cyrus held up a hand.

"We were just talking," he told him. "Nothing to interrupt." Nick gave him an "Are you kidding me?" look, but otherwise didn't respond, and Cyrus took charge of the conversation, not wanting to get into round seven hundred and twelve of Nick's opinion of what he should do about his feelings for Sara. "Let me tell you what I found out about Alex James … "

"Hang on man." He thought for a second that Nick was going to talk about Sara, but for once, the other man's thoughts were on work. "I just left Grissom in the layout room, looking at maps of mines. Come on, we'll meet him there, you can tell us then."

Nodding, Cyrus followed him out.