Disclaimer: I don't own them, I didn't create them, and I don't profit from them, but as always coffee is on me if George and Jorja have the time.
Author's Note: I had a random idea about St. Patrick's Day and thought I'd run with it. In fact, consider this a challenge to all of you to come up with your own St. Patrick's Day fic.
The yelp could be heard halfway across the lab. And just when the curiosity of numerous employees of the Las Vegas Crime Lab wondered where it was coming from, all mystery was removed as the voice of Sara Sidle rang out.
"Greg, don't you ever grab my butt again if you want to keep breathing!" To say that Sara Sidle was upset was an understatement. She had been in the middle of taking a sip out of a freshly poured cup of coffee when the DNA analyst turned CSI had taken it upon himself to reach out and make his presence known in a not so conventional way. Sara had jumped and her coffee had gone everywhere, mostly down the front of her shirt.
"I didn't grab your butt." Greg had an impish smirk on his face. "I pinched your butt."
Sara was incredulous at how brazen he was being. "Greg, which part of not ok with me do you not understand?"
Greg's arms were crossed over his chest and he quirked an eyebrow. "Sara, which part of you're not wearing green and it's St. Patrick's Day do you not understand?"
"Greg!" When Sara spoke his name it came out like a growl and for the first time a hint of fear sprinted across Greg's face.
If it hadn't been for the appearance of Grissom in the doorway, Sara might have successfully performed the first lungectomy using nothing but a pair of bare hands.
"What seems to be the problem?" Grissom's tone was firm and authoritative and it stopped Greg in his tracks and momentarily distracted Sara from reaching for Greg's throat.
"What's the problem?" Sara looked at Grissom in disbelief and her voice wound up a notch. "For some reason, Greg thought it would be a good idea tograb my ass while I was trying to drink a cup of coffee."
Grissom's eyes widened and then he looked at Greg with an expression that could only be described as befuddlement. "Greg, what were you thinking?"
Greg was beginning to see that what had started out as a good excuse to flirt with Sara, was turning into quite a fiasco. "Uh, she wasn't wearing green?" He pasted on a pained smile knowing that excuse was going to fly about as far as a penguin.
"Excuse me?" Grissom looked at Greg over the rim of his glasses.
"March 17th." Greg looked at Grissom expectantly. "St. Patrick's Day. You know, wear green or get pinched." He looked hopeful that one of them might buy his explanation. "An Irish celebration for the saint that drove the snakes out of Ireland."
Sara scowled at him, blotting at the coffee stain on her lavender blouse. "St. Patrick was actually British and was kidnapped and taken to Ireland."
"Huh?" Greg looked perplexed.
"He escaped after six years but eventually went back to spread Christianity to the Irish." Sara informed them as she continued to blot the stain.
"Greg." Grissom's tone was stern. "I don't care what day it is, there is no reason to pinch Sara."
Sara glared at Greg again. "And for the record, I am wearing green."
Greg looked at her skeptically. "Where?"
Sara gave him a stare that could shrivel an oak tree. "None of your damn business." With that she brushed past him and Grissom and headed towards the locker room for a change of clothes.
She was mumbling to herself under her breath as she dug through her locker in hopes that she actually had a change of clothes when Nick Stokes sauntered in.
He looked at her curiously as he opened his own locker. "What happened to you?"
"Greg grabbed my ass while I was trying to drink coffee." Sara pulled a shirt out and considered which was worse, the coffee now adorning her current shirt or the print powder that had spilled on this one.
"What?" Nick looked at her in disbelief.
Sara looked up at his shocked expression and repeated herself a little louder. "He grabbed my ass."
"I heard you, but what the hell did he do that for?" Nick was feeling a little protective and he had half a mind to grab Greg by the collar and give him a piece of his mind.
"He claims he just pinched me, but trust me, I know a grab when I feel it and that was a grab." Sara decided that the shirt with print powder was an improvement over the one she was wearing.
Nick noticed her dilemma. "You know, I have an extra shirt if you want to borrow it. I think it's even clean."
Sara blinked as she looked over at him. "Yeah, thanks." She furrowed her brow as Nick began to look through the duffel bag in his locker. "It wouldn't happen to be green would it?"
"No, why?" Nick glanced at her as he pulled the blue shirt out of the bag.
"I just thought maybe it might help." She took the shirt from his outstretched hand and shoved the shirt with print powder on it back in her own locker.
"Help why?" Nick closed his locker and leaned his shoulder against it.
"Well apparently it's St. Patrick's Day and according to Greg, I'm not wearing green." Sara smirked at Nick.
A smile began to pull at Nick's lips and he let out a chuckle. "And what did you tell him?"
"I told him he was wrong." Sara felt a smile threatening to overtake the smirk.
"Really?" Nick looked at her intently.
Sara looked at the smug expression on Nick's face and arched her brows. "Yes, really."
"Would you like me to correct him?" Nick's eyes were dancing with mischief.
"I really don't think that's necessary." Sara felt her cheeks getting a little warm.
"Because I could." Nick puffed his chest out slightly.
Sara lowered her voice to a conspiratorial tone. "No. Because then he'd want to see what I'm wearing that's green."
Nick arched his brows suggestively. "I can't blame him, that little ensemble makes you look pretty damn sexy."
"Nick." Sara's eyes widened. "Keep your voice down."
Nick chuckled softly and stepped closer to her. "No one can hear us, the door's closed."
"Nick." Sara's resolve was faltering as she felt his hands come to rest on her waist.
"Sara." Nick teased before he leaned in and kissed her, quickly getting caught up in the moment. His hands slid from her waist down to her butt as her arms drifted over his shoulders and she deepened the kiss.
They stood like that for quite a while, lost in the kiss and oblivious to their surroundings until the door to the locker room creaked open. As they broke apart they came face to face with a shocked looking Grissom.
Nick blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. "She wasn't wearing green."
The End
and
Happy St. Patrick's Day
