Disclaimer: Unfortunately, none of these characters belong to me.
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"That was a nice meal, Nick. Bet you spent a whole load of cash on us," Warrick said as they walked out of the tiny restaurant.
"Hey man, it was either that," Nick responded, as he rubbed his full stomach, "or the place where the girls ate yesterday. And let's not forget the lovely lady who left half of her forehead there," he said, wrapping an arm around Catherine's shoulder.
"OK OK, Nicky. I'm glad we all got it out of our systems," Catherine said, shrugging Nick's arm off of her shoulders.
"Well, Catherine, I hadn't put my two cents in, but we should be processing our crime scene about now, so let's get a move on," Grissom said, feeling a known feeling of uncomfortable returning to his body as he saw Sara and Nick whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears. "You two," Grissom said, raising his voice and pointing to the lovebirds, "We're all very happy about your engagement, but just because you're newly engaged does not mean that the rules at a crime scene exempt you. We do our work, we get out of there. Understood?"
"You got it," Nick responded, releasing his grip on Sara's waist.
"Understood, Gris," Sara said, moving a little bit away from Nick, but not too far.
"I have to do some paperwork at the hotel with Grandfather - um, Mr. Casciola - before the night is over. I'll meet you back at the hotel," Grissom said, bidding farewell to his team as they headed towards their scene.
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"That was not fun, Grissom," Sara said, as Nick opened the door to their hotel rooms.
"No, no it was not Sara, but never did I guarantee that this job would bring you enjoyment," Grissom said, as he laid down a towel for Sara to sit on on the bed.
"Oh honey," Nick said, after closing the door behind the five of them, "Let me go grab a wet washcloth and we'll wipe your face off, and try to get some of the smell to go away."
"Catherine, this is just about as bad as yesterday," Sara said, as Nick went into the bathroom on the search for a washcloth.
"Yeah, Cath, I was meaning to ask you, what made your head stick to the table that made the fire department have to come and de-stick you," Warrick said, as he took off his shoes and sat in a chair.
"Nail glue," Catherine said, as she rummaged through Sara's suitcase for a clean blouse.
"Nail glue? But you were in a diner," Warrick said, becoming confused.
"Yes, Warrick, trust me. I know. They said the woman sitting at the table before us had apparently chipped a nail, ran across the street to get nail glue while her family ate their breakfast, 7AM mind you, and came back and fixed her nails right on the table," Catherine said, finally giving up on Sara's suitcase and heading for her own duffel bag. "She must've dripped a little onto the table, which in turn stuck to my head when I rested my head on the table."
"Rested? Ha! She practically pounded her head on the table after the waitress called her 'ma'am'," Sara said, as she took off her own shoes.
"What? People say 'ma'am' all the time down in Texas. It's just the polite thing to do," Nick said, emerging from the bathroom with a soapy washcloth. "It's not meant to insult a woman, not at all."
"I just don't think I look old enough to be a ma'am, that's all. Here Sara, this is the best I could do," Catherine said, handing Sara a blouse that was an extraordinary shade of pink.
"Catherine, I do have clothes in my own bag. I don't need to wear one of yours," Sara said, as Nick started to wipe off whatever he could.
"Yeah, but Sara, what were you thinking when you chose your clothes? 'Let's bring the ugliest shirts I own'?! Come on Sara, you have to have some fashion sense in that brilliant head of yours," Catherine said, as she watched Nick attempt to clean his fiancée up. "Oh, Nicky, that's not going to work. She needs to take a long, hot shower and wash really good."
"That's what I was just going to do," she said, ripping the washcloth out of Nick's grasp and away from her face. "I'll be right out."
"What happened?" Grissom said, after he had filed all of the paperwork he had done with Mr. Casciola earlier in the day.
"Sara processed the baby's room today. And then the baby itself. Well, let's just say the baby and Sara didn't mix well," Warrick said, trying to be as nice as he could. He knew that everyone else knew that Sara and any baby didn't mix well.
"What do you mean, didn't mix well?" Grissom questioned, taking off his glasses.
"As Sara was holding the baby, she sort of.. threw up on her," Catherine said, taking the towel off the bed where Sara was sitting and throwing it on the floor.
"The baby threw up on herself? Or on Sara?" Grissom questioned.
"Who do you think?" Nick said, holding up the washcloth he was still holding, which was covered in whatever vomit he could get off of Sara's face. After he realized he was holding a washcloth of vomit, he quickly threw it next to the towel Catherine had thrown.
"Well, that's.. exciting, I guess," Grissom said.
"Oh yeah, Grissom. Just about as exciting as "Miss Congeniality"" Warrick said, referring to a movie he had secretly loved for the past few years.
Grissom simply looked at him with questioning eyes, as did Catherine and Nick.
"What? Don't tell me you've never heard of it. Sandra Bullock? Michael Caine? No? Doesn't ring a bell with any of you?" Warrick asked, appalled that no one else knew what he was talking about. "Man, I need to start hanging out with new people."
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