Wiggle Room
Summary:
Greg, Sara, Catherine and lots and lots of Jell-o. Throw in some terrible Tom Swifties, an entomology conference and a confused Sara.
A/N: Part of the weekly Unbound Improv Challenge. First and last lines are provided – 1,000 words to get a story out of them. Thanks to Ann for serving as beta on this.
Rating: PG


"Why is there Jell-o here?" Greg asked.

"It's a kitchen. That's where people usually store their Jell-o," Sara answered as she jiggled the doorknob.

"I don't think so."

"Sink. Stove. Fridge. Yep. It's a kitchen all right," she deadpanned.

"Guys, I really think you need to look at this."

"We're not 'guys', Greg," Catherine said, chortling when the would-be CSI gave them a pained look. "Okay, okay. I'll look."

Earlier that evening, an alert citizen reported a break-in, and a nearby patrol car responded immediately. The perp fled, but there were no obvious signs that he'd taken anything. In fact, he'd left behind an impressive collection of electronics and silver.

They were currently working the kitchen, where a broken window served as the entryway and the backdoor as the exit. While Greg photographed the scene, he noticed the partially opened pantry door that he was now pointing out to Catherine.

"Damn," was her only response after a cursory examination.

"I think someone overdid the coupons," Sara said in a clipped tone.

Inside the small closet, wire shelves ran from floor to ceiling. Each held the exact same thing – hundreds of boxes of assorted flavored gelatin desserts.

"Fetish?" Sara wondered.

"Or a wrestler," Greg threw out, shrugging when both women turned their heads to stare at him.

"Wrestler?"

"Jell-o wrestler. You probably know all about that, don't you, Catherine?" he asked as she took one of the boxes out of the pantry and headed to her kit, where she retrieved a scalpel.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Catherine said cuttingly as she carefully slit the edges of the box.

"Hey, maybe there's a pit in here. You know, you two might have to do a recreation," he said demonstratively.

"In your dreams, Greggo."

"Oh, yeah," he fanaticized. "Owww!"

"Take photos," Sara snapped, focusing on the clear plastic bag filled with white powder that the blonde was removing from the box.

"That's cocaine," Catherine snorted.

"Gives a new a meaning to Jell-o shots," Greg injected.

"Yeah. Okay, Greg, you bag all of those and get them to the lab. I need you to check each one to see if they hold coke," Catherine said.

"That blows," he huffed.

"Goes with the job," Sara said in passing.

"Yeah, but you get to go to that conference all next week."

"Don't remind me."

"I thought you and Grissom were …" Greg halted when Sara gave him a pointed look. "You two aren't … uh … I mean…"

"Did you handle those boxes without gloves? I didn't ask to go to this conference."

And Grissom hadn't really wanted her to go. He had wandered into the break room last week, stating that he needed an assistant to help with his talk at the upcoming forensic entomology conference in Toledo.

Catherine refused outright, and Warrick pointed out he had a court appearance. When Grissom asked Nick, the younger man reminded him he'd be taking part in a friend's wedding. Reluctantly, he'd turned to Sara. Before asking, Grissom stated that it would look very bad on the lab if he came unprepared. She'd accepted with equal reluctance.

Greg had to be on drugs if thought there was any significance to it.

"Then why are you going all week?"

"It's a week-long conference."

"But all of Grissom's talks are on the first day."

Sara shot her head up to find Catherine grinning and Greg watching her in confusion.

"I checked the agenda on their web site. Grissom's talks are the highlight of the first day, but he isn't part of any of the talks or panels after that."

"It must be a typo," Sara said, shaking her head.

"Seems Gil neglected to mention some of the details of this, uh, trip," Catherine smirked.

"No," Sara insisted. "He filled out our paperwork. We'll be gone all week. He wouldn't have me there unless there was a reason."

"I'm sure of that," Catherine said slyly.

"I'm, uh, going to start loading the evidence," Sara said, getting up quickly.

What was going on? If he only needed her help for the first day, why did Grissom put her down for the entire week? It wasn't like she was his first choice – no one else could go.

But Grissom had to have known that when he asked her.

Catherine had made it clear she didn't want to leave Lindsey alone for an extended length of time after Eddie died. Warrick's case was major; the sheriff had been checking on both him and Grissom to make sure everything was set. And Grissom had made a comment about the location of the wedding reception to Nick the day before.

His asking around the break room had been a show, then. Even he wasn't that forgetful.

Sara grabbed an armload of bagged evidence and made her way to the Denali parked at the end of the driveway. What was Grissom thinking? Was he thinking? What were the two of them going to do for a week, alone, away from the lab?

Oh, oh.

Was this his idea of figuring out 'what to do about this'? Or was he totally clueless about what he'd done? With Grissom, it was hard to tell at times. She'd have to ask him when she got back to the lab.

Of course, he'd deny it. He'd say he needed a cheerleader for the cockroach races, anything other than openly admit if wanted them to spend some alone away from work. Damn him! Not this time. Sara lashed her foot out in frustration, sending gravel flying. He wasn't getting out of this one that easily. She kicked the gravel from her shoe.


Continued in "No Room To Wiggle".