Hands Off

Humor

Rating: PG13

Pairing: By default, Warrick/Sara - and, yes, probably the way you're thinking.

Disclaimer: No one is mine. I just like to make them laugh. Or to laugh with them. Okay, yes, and at them.

A/N: Finally, the end! Thanks for all the kind words.

Chapter 7: Truth springs from argument amongst friends. – David Hume

Catherine Willows leaned back in the diner's booth, well satisfied with the breakfast she had just devoured. It had been a long time since she'd eaten so much at the end of a shift.

The again, it had been a long time since she'd known such peace and harmony during a shift, either.

"Man, I gotta admit, that was just the best breakfast ever." Nick, equally replete, rubbed his belly,

Even Gil Grissom was more relaxed and happy than he had been at the beginning of the night. "Yeah, I never thought I could eat that many waffles and not feel guilty. Good bacon, too," he added, wiping the last trace of maple syrup from his lips.

The three CSIs had dragged along their devoted DNA tech this morning and the young man had put them all to shame, ordering not one, not two, but three Best-of-the-West breakfast specials - three eggs, three flapjacks, three sausage links, three slices of thick-cut bacon, and a side of three- fruit salad. Greg had wanted to keep the three theme going, so had ordered appropriately.

"I am so stuffed," the lanky young man muttered, his eyes half closing. "I don't think I can move."

"Well, buddy, then we'll just leave you here." Nick chuckled. "By the way, our waitress has been making eyes at you all morning." Nick pointed to a cute, petite brunette with a heart-shaped face. Greg immediately sat taller and adjusted his green and purple striped rugby shirt.

Catherine laughed. "Oh yeah, that helped."

The four companions lapsed into silence, each contemplating the exquisite success of the previous shift. They had completed their case at the Rio with time to spare. They then had returned to the peace and harmony of the lab and managed to tie up the loose ends on four other cases plus catch up on all their paperwork.. In a unified show of gratitude for the harmony, the lab techs had chipped in and bought the entire graveyard shift pizza which was delivered at the perfect time of 2am. In Las Vegas, anything could be had for a price.

But as dawn approached, Sara and Warrick had yet to return from their excursion to tiny Cal-Nev-Ari. Grissom had received a call from Sara about the time the rest of the CSIs were gorging themselves on pizza. She explained that things were going, in her words, "adequately" and that she and "that pigheaded S-O-B you chained me to" should be back at base by the end of shift. However, three hours later, Warrick had checked in. Their departure was now in doubt since, in his words, "the harpy who insisted on driving" had lost the SUV's keys. Grissom was in tears by the time the call ended, and after hanging up, broke into full blown laughter like he hadn't in years.

So by the end of shift, Sara and Warrick still hadn't returned and the others decided a peaceful breakfast was well deserved. Grissom had even agreed to foot the bill.

As he pulled his wallet from the inside pocket on his windbreaker, the lead CSI sighed contentedly and asked the others, "Everyone ready?"

Three heads bobbed in the affirmative and the group made a lazy if boisterous exit from the diner, leaving the cute waitress with a heavy tip and Greg's phone number. As they traveled back to the lab, Catherine, Greg and Nick offered suggestions for ways to send Sara or Warrick or both away for the next several nights, thereby continuing the tranquility.

"Don't worry, the wager is over. I'll give you guys back your money and tell our dynamic duo to go home and relax," Grissom paused, pulling his Tahoe back into the lot. He rolled the truck in next to one very dusty Yukon.

Catherine's blue eyes took on a delighted glint. "Think they're back?" she asked, climbing out of the Tahoe. Nick and Greg were already inspecting the bigger SUV.

"Must be them – that Yukon wasn't here when we left.,"Grissom agreed.

Greg peered into the passenger window. "We've got two Skittles wrappers and a half empty 20 ounce Mountain Dew in the front seat."

Nick nodded, checking out the driver's side. "That'd be Sara. And the four empty coffee cups are probably Warrick's. Man, I hope they clean this thing up before they leave."

Grissom and Catherine waited at the building's doors while Nick and Greg ran to catch up. The quartet laughed their way toward Grissom's office, surprising the dayshift which was now on duty, with their high spirits and bright smiles.

Gil inhaled deeply. "There is nothing that could ruin this morning for me. Not one thing."

However, he was unprepared to see Warrick standing nervously outside his office. Grissom slowed, the others behind him nearly crashing into him. He motioned for them to be quiet and turned back toward Warrick. The tall, dark man appeared for all the world, like he was....standing as lookout?

"Warrick?"

The younger CSI jumped a foot, losing his grasp on whatever cool he had. He recovered quickly, moving away from the door, a broad, if forced, smile crossing his face.

"Hey, Gris, I was...ah, just looking for you." His rather loud emphasis on 'Gris' was difficult to miss.

Warrick met him several steps from the office door. Grissom was instantly intrigued. One thing he had learned was to listen to the evidence...and this evidence was telling him something was most certainly amiss.

"Sara here?" he asked, quirking his right eyebrow. Warrick turned distinctly nervous again.

"Um, yeah, sure, she's...ah....in the locker room, I think. So, ah, where've you guys been? We thought you had all left," he remarked, his own words sounding lame even to him.

Nick and Greg followed the exchange intently but Catherine broke into a slow, sly smile.

Grissom adopted his curt, no-nonsense persona. "We were at breakfast. Where were you?" he asked pointedly.

Catherine was sure Warrick blushed.

"Um, well, we were looking for the keys." he paused, growing even more uncomfortable. When the senior CSI made no comment, Warrick added, unnecessarily, "We found them."

"Obviously," Grissom smirked. "How'd the case go?"

Warrick seemed to relax slightly as the conversation moved into familiar territory. "Oh, good, it was good. I mean, it was bad, but we've got everything." Warrick rubbed the back of his neck. "Um, it wasn't really a hit-and-run...more like a hit-and-fly."

"A hit-and-fly?" Grissom took a step forward.

Warrick, his personal space invaded, backed up a step. "Yeah, Cal-Nev-Ari has 300 residents and 100 planes. People use them like cars and commute into LA or Las Vegas or wherever. The guy was mowed down by a single-engine Cessna as it was taxiing."

"Really?" Grissom forced Warrick back another step, enjoying his colleague's intense discomfort.

"Um, yeah, so...messy, very messy," the younger man continued, his words coming in a staccato rather than his usual smooth tones. "Blood everywhere, limbs all over....took awhile to gather everything...."

Warrick was unsure what Grissom was waiting for so he kept talking, hoping to break the man's steely, unwavering stare. "Worst accident they'd ever had there but the sheriff said she'd seen suff like this in the Midwest? Farm accidents, combines... " Warrick inhaled nervously. "Not really sure what a combine is but..." He paused, eyeing Grissom but the supervisor seemed intent to prolong his discomposure. Warrick rambled on, his usually deep voice fluctuating in timbre. "Nice lady, that sheriff...said she knew you as a kid? In Marina Del Rey...you used to chase her with dead seagulls?" Warrick laughed nervously. "Had a hard time picturing that..." He gulped. "Not you with a dead seagull but you as a kid." He was shocked that he'd said that. He could feel his cool melting away with every syllable. "I mean, you as a kid with a dead seagull....not just as a kid...."

"Interesting." Grissom crowded Warrick and again the younger man backed up. Catherine snickered, drawing attention from Nick and Greg.

"What's going on?" Nick hissed.

Catherine laughed into her hand, shaking her head. "I have such a bad feeling about this...just watch."

Grissom stuck a finger into Warrick's chest. "Your shirt's not buttoned right," he pointed out, causing Warrick to jump again, glancing down at himself. He was horrified to realize the buttons were, indeed, mismatched.

"So, the body's been released, you found the plane, and tied up all the loose ends?" Grissom persisted.

After a beat, Warrick answered. "Yeah, yeah....all tied up nice and neat, boss. We even filed all the paperwork." He was still trying to decide which action would cause less scrutiny from his coworkers – re-buttoning the shirt or ignoring it completely.

Grissom finally broke into a grin, backing the taller man up another step. "Why are you so nervous, Warrick?"

"Got it!" Sara Sidle suddenly bounded out of Grissom's office. She was so intent on counting the money in her hand, she didn't notice that Warrick wasn't alone. "Wow, can that spider move when she's upset. Here's your half," she smiled, stuffing bills into Warrick's hands. It wasn't until she bounced up to lay a passionate kiss on her coworker's neck that she noticed their audience. "Oh..." she muttered, coming back to Earth with a distinct thud. "Oh..."

Catherine lost control, began to laugh so hard she had to hide her face against the wall. Greg and Nick, their jaws slack with shock, found themselves unable to move at all. Grissom leaned forward, his wise blue eyes narrowed, his boyish face alight with a knowing grin.

"You two lost the bet at the same time?"

With her fair skin, Sara could blush faster than anyone else. She turned immediately red, confirming Grissom's suspicion. He stepped forward, leaning in confidentially, his face turning serious. The pair in front of him was already taking a step back in unison.

"That's quite a coincidence."

He moved in again and they retreated once more.

"And you know how I feel about coincidences."

The two winced, getting ready for an infamous, if rare, Grissom Grilling, but to their amazement, Gil Grissom broke into a sympathetic smile. "Just keep it off company time from now on."

Warrick and Sara exhaled gratefully, allowing their boss to pass between them on his way to his office.

"Wow, I never saw this coming, I gotta tell you," Catherine added, still chuckling. She started to follow in Grissom's wake, but paused as she passed Sara. "We have got to go out for a drink," the older woman murmured, throwing a look at Warrick. "I've got to hear all about this....hit-and-fly case. Sounds way more interesting than any case I've ever been on."

Sara gave Catherine a lopsided grin, unable to miss Warrick rolling his eyes and she sobered immediately.

Catherine laughed again, patted Warrick on the shoulder and made a hasty retreat into Grissom's office.

Nick, recovering from his shock, chuckled. "Man, you ol' sly dog," he said, punching Warrick a little too hard in the arm. "I'm gonna be the third wheel around here forever."

Sara snorted. "You've always got Greg," she taunted.

"Oh, funny!"Nick forced a laugh before breaking into a genuine smile. "I wonder if Grissom would team me up with Marcia from dayshift. She's a babe." He shook his head, still smiling, and turned back around toward the locker room. "I'd say have fun, but I guess you guys already have!" Stokes waved goodbye, chuckling again.

"Well, that's a future heartbreak in the making." Warrick shook his head. "Wait until he finds out Marcia is dating David."

"David? Coroner David?" Sara was stunned. "How do you know that?"

Greg piped up, his eyes twinkling in amusement. "Oh, everyone knows that. Lab gossip."

Warrick shrugged in concurrence. Sara shook her head. "I am so far out of the loop."

"Oh, not any more!" Greg began to laugh loudly. "You are going to be the lab gossip headliners!" He fixed the two with a gunfighter's stance, aiming his index fingers at them "Wait until they hear this one."

Warrick took a threatening step forward. "Greg..." he growled.

"Hey! Settle there, big guy. I know nothing!" Greg placated, throwing up his hands in defense. "Or not much. And I really don't even want to know where this occurred. I just know that I am only traveling in the Tahoes from now on."

Greg spun around and ended up facing away from them. He began to strut down the hallway rapping 'Backseat Love'. Warrick laughed.

"What?" Sara elbowed him.

"Ah, nothing....just figures Sanders would follow a group called N.E.R.D."

Sara nodded. "Appropriate...So, um, now what?"

"Well," Warrick finally relaxed into his usual easy grin, wrapping an arm around Sara's shoulders. "I've come into a windfall - how about I take you to breakfast?"

She laughed at that, sliding her arm around Warrick's waist. "I must admit, I have worked up quite a hunger." She gave him a tight squeeze, laughing as he snorted.

As they made their way down the hall of their workplace, Sara murmured, "Ya know, after breakfast we could go back to my place and lose the bet some more."

Warrick's rich laughter echoed. "Definitely good odds on that."