"Hey there, Sugar. We got ourselves a new case!" Greg said as he breezed into the break room. Sara was sitting at the table reading a magazine and getting increasingly impatient with nothing to do. It was a very slow night.

"Great, but if you call me 'Sugar' again I'll punch you in the stomach,"

"Whoa there, that was a little harsh! You usually just give me a look of distaste and move on," said Greg, a little taken aback.

Sara closed the magazine and stood up "Well, I gave you the verbalization of that look,"

"Good to know," said Greg, deciding for his own safety he should probably shut up and get to business. This didn't sound quite like playful banter; more like Sara getting pissed off. He opened up the file "It's a double homicide on Seneca Ridge Avenue. Two male DB's in their mid 20's. Kevin and Kenn Ayers,"

"Alright then, let's get the hell out of here,"

O0oO0oO0oO0o

"It's right over here," said Brass as the three of them ducked under the police tape and made their way towards the bodies. It was bloody mess and was rather obvious that the two men had bled out. The scene was behind a couple warehouses and it didn't look like anyone would be around to help them. As they got a closer inspection, they could see that the two had been stabbed in the stomach.

"What's with all these cameras?" asked Greg looking around. There had to be about 20 reporters and cameramen swarming around the scene, trying eagerly to get some good footage.

Brass gestured towards the two men "These two are the sons of Gordon Ayers, the governor of Florida. This is pretty high profile, Rookie. You're lucky to be working it,"

High profile… Gris must've known; recognized the names. He knows I'm capable thought Greg excitedly, but still a little peeved that Brass had just called him 'Rookie'.

"Grissom put me on it for a reason. I can do this,"

"Hey, can we get to work already?" asked Sara getting out her camera. "A little less testosterone, a little more investigating,"

"Sorry," said Greg as he joined Sara.

The scene took about 2 hours to analyze. The whole time reporters kept trying to get some information, which was rather irritating, not to mention distracting. Greg tried not to let it bother him because he had to be on his best work. When they got back to the lab, Greg looked over a bit of the evidence and pulled a couple prints off a possible murder weapon. It didn't seem like this case would be too hard, after all.

At the end of shift Greg walked into the locker room and saw Sara sitting on a bench, looking a bit depressed.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

Sara looked up a bit surprised to hear another voice "What? No… uh… nothing. I'm fine. Just a little bored. It seems like lately, I'm just not that interested in work," she said with a weak smile.

Sara not interested in work? That was practically impossible. Maybe she was in a rut, or something. Everyone gets into a rut once in a while, even Workaholic Sara. Maybe I can help he thought…

"Well, why don't we do something fun? Go out for drinks, perhaps?" It came out of his mouth, but he hadn't thought it first. Ugh! You freaking tool! She's going to think you're a sleaze ball for asking her out when she's vulnerable! He scolded him and almost had to hold himself back from banging his head on the locker multiple times until sense was knocked into him.

But Sara didn't roll her eyes, or slap him or storm out… Instead she got up and said

"Drinks? Hell, why not?"

A/N: I'm very sorry to anyone who lives in Florida… I'm aware that your governor is not actually Gordon Ayers, and that his sons were not actually stabbed to death. And if you happen to be the sons of the governor of Florida, this is not a threat. I'm also sorry if you live in Vegas and happen to know that there most probably aren't warehouses on Seneca Ridge Avenue. Anyways, I have a plan for what's going to happen much later in the story… I personally think it's a stroke of genius! But of course, I'm the author. Anyways, I'll be on my way now.