Spoilers: Actually, the CSI novel "Cold Burn".

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"Yeah, they're laid over. If it wasn't enough that Cath was buckled down with the passenger from hell..." Sara announced, walking into the break room, looking sufficiently more chipper than usual. The color was high in her cheeks, and her hair looked like she'd actually taken the time to set it that morning. She'd chosen a bright blouse over cranberry pants; an infusion of color and passion, Sara Sidle looked much more alive than she had in the past few months.

Nick stuck his head out of his newspaper. "Passenger from hell? How would you know that?" It was said to be amusing, but she has an answer prepared for him. She always did, he should have known by now.

"That lecture series, in New York, with the murder slash suicide?" It wasn't a question, but Sara knew that when she took that tone, Nick got aggravated, and she thoroughly enjoyed annoying the shit out of Nick. He nodded, biting his lip.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." He replied, waving her off with one hand, while the other reached over to grab his coffee. Sara smiled and took a place at the table, languidly stirring her coffee with the plastic rod. Humming to herself, she leaned back and settled in intending to take her break for all it was worth, as she'd been pouring over crime scene photos for nearly four hours. A banal task, but at least it was work.

Warrick Brown swaggered into the room, his dull, cologne alerting both CSIs to his presence. He smelled humid and spicy, and Sara smiled at the scent. For some reason, it reassured her, reminded her of autumn. He addressed his coworkers, "Working so hard guys."

Nick shrugged, as did Sara, neither bothering to answer him as he slipped into a chair alongside them at the table. "What's goin down, Sara?" He knew very well there nothing, in fact, was going down.

The brunette smiled slightly and gave him a lopsided grin. "Nothing. Griss and Cath are stuck in LA, layover from Seattle. Can you believe that? And well, I'm not onto anything... except pouring over those shots from the Zelinski house last week. Out of habit." She gulped her coffee and realized that she was incredibly bored with her assignment. "And out of boredom. God, is it me, or with Griss and Cath gone are we... lost?"

Nick paused in his reading, flipping his newspaper over. "I... am not lost. I'm very..."

"Found?" Warrick ribbed and Nick glared while Sara sputtered out a laugh.

"I was going to say centered and invested." He shot back at his friend, sharing a half-assed glare with the man. It was fruitless, they dissolved into laughter for a moment. Then, the room was overcome by silence. Sara tapped her nails on the table and glanced around as if something would catch her attention.

"Guys, I'm so bored." Sara said, neither complaining nor whining. "This is bad. Does crime like, stop when they're away? Is it me?" A hasty breath was pushed out passed her lips and she tapped her fingers again on the table.

Warrick brushed it off. "So what if it does? I've worked three doubles, haven't seen sleep in a week. I'm all about relaxing for a bit." Nick understood exactly what he was saying and nodded, more coffee being gulped down. Sara just sighed a little sigh and sipped at her coffee miserably. She could pretend to be completely miserable, but she wasn't. For the first time in weeks, she was relaxed and rejuvenated, ready to dive back into work when Grissom and Catherine returned.

But, gathering from the phone conversation she'd had with Catherine, the woman might be returning from the conference solo. Her patience was on a very short tether, and Grissom's non-committal answers to her attempts at conversation only irked her more so. Sara could see, in her head, Catherine finally succumbing to her desires and bashing Grissom over the head with something very heavy.

"Well, I have to be doing something. Something useful. Something... other than sitting in a room looking over friggin pictures." Sara smiled. "And talk to you guys."

Warrick chuckled, grabbing a section of Nick's paper from him. "Don't I know it."

"What the hell does that mean?" Sara gaped, good-naturedly, but interested.

"Don't think we don't know your gusto girl," Warrick drawled. "You forget, you went after me, not gonna forget that." He grinned at her when her face fell. "If there's a 'bad guy' out there to catch, you'll get him."

Sara couldn't help it. "If." She laughed. It was true, she had gone after Warrick with a certain amount of vengeance, but that had only been because Gil Grissom had asked her to do it, and that meant it had to be handled properly, with the utmost attention and care.

Sara brushed it off. "Yeah, yeah." Sipping her coffee, she allowed her eyes to slip closed and listened to the casual banter that Nick and Warrick had indulged in. From the scant bits and pieces she grasped onto, Warrick was planning something with... someone, and Nick had a date on Thursday night. Two morsels of information that didn't really catch her fancy at all.

She felt herself drifting off...

Brass skittered into the room then, folder in hand, sweat clinging to his brow. "Got a 419, who wants to ride with me?"

Sara was out of her seat before either of the other two CSIs had a chance to respond. "Dear God, me." And with that she and Brass were gone.