Chapter Two: So Scratch It
"So what is this that Sara tells me about you sleeping during the meeting?" wondered Warrick, rifling through his locker for a half decent shirt to wear. He stood there in a wife beater and a pair of baggy jeans, waiting for his coworker to explain himself.
"Exactly that," replied the Texan, buttoning up his shirt. "The last thing I remember Grissom saying was that we were all doing a great job lately. A surprising compliment from him if you ask me. Where were you?"
"Working a double solo. Some convenience store owner was shot twice in the back of the head. No money was stolen and the place looked clean."
"So?"
"His brother did it."
"Why?"
"The store was supposed to go to him if something ever happened to the owner," Warrick answered evenly.
Nick scoffed and tucked in the bottom of his shirt into his pants. "That's one of the dumbest things I have ever heard."
"That, and you drooling."
That got Nick's attention. He stared at his friend with a raised eyebrow, challenging him to continue what he was saying. Warrick only smiled at the door of his locker as he locked it.
"Were you going somewhere with that?"
"What were you dreaming about?"
"No of your damn business, that's what."
"Sara was saying that it sounded pretty interesting."
"If you just got off shift and she has been at her crime scene with Gris since shift began, when would you have seen her?"
"Maybe you should have been a detective Nick Stokes," joked Warrick, watching him grab his black vest out of the locker. He was already wearing his own.
"Yeah, but that staff isn't as attractive."
"Is that what you were dreaming about?"
"Catherine?" inquired Nick, purposely playing dumb. He leaned against his locker and folded his arms over his chest after slipping on the vest. "Nah, she's not my type, man."
"No. I was thinking more of a science nerd."
"We're all science geeks, War."
"But not all of us are control freaks or have chicken scratch writing as well as obsessions with statistics."
"Man, I'm not into Grissom."
"You know whom I'm talking about," said Warrick, narrowing his eyes at the Texan.
"And what if I was?"
"Are you though?"
"Would you like an answer right away?"
"I never realized that you were so good at avoiding questions," mocked Warrick, looking at him a little sardonically.
"Yes, I was dreaming about Sara. Are you happy now?"
"You going to ask her out?"
"It was a dream!" he defended.
"Are you going to ask her out though?"
"I could have dreamed about you, Warrick. Would you have suggested that I ask you out?"
"If you had dreamed about having sex with me, I would tell you off. And by the way, I'm not like that, Nick. I'm sorry."
Nick sneered at him jokingly and waited for his friend to say something else, probably just as insulting.
"No, I would not have said that you should ask me out. Besides, you've liked Sara for years."
"How did you know it was about sex, anyway? And you never answered my question about how you found out that I fell asleep."
"I talked to Catherine and from what she told me, Sara thought that the dream sounded pretty "interesting" and, uh, you looked pretty "interested" as well." Warrick laughed when he saw his all-too-proud coworker blush at the latter part of his statement.
"There's someone you should ask out: Catherine."
"Yeah, I've been thinking about it."
"So why haven't you?"
"Well, I haven't seen her a lot lately because of all the doubles her and I have worked separately on."
"There's such a thing as a phone."
"You know how it is. Working for that long, any extra time you have is spent sleeping. Besides, she needs to see Lindsey as well."
"Yeah, that's true."
"So, you going to ask her out?"
"Warrick, man, leave it be," warned Nick, starting to make his way out of the locker room, his friend not too far behind him.
"Why?"
"I need to figure out things out."
"Come on, Nick. You've been dying to ask her out forever."
"I don't know if I want a relationship right now. Anyway, it doesn't matter. We're coworkers. It's probably just an itch that I have."
"So scratch it!" exclaimed Warrick as the two of them rounded the corner.
"Scratch what?" wondered Sara, brow tensed in confusion.
"I have a mosquito bite," mumbled Nick, his hand resting over his forearm, while he stared at something just over Sara's shoulder.
"Yeah," began Warrick, sending the man beside him a half disgusted, half disappointed side-glance. "He's been complaining about it since the beginning of shift."
"You must have got it last night when we were out in the desert," said Sara innocently.
"Yeah, must have."
"You guys missed Grissom handing out cases. Warrick you're with Catherine and Grissom on a triple homicide in a hotel room of the Tangiers." Sara turned to Nick and smiled widely. "You're with me, Cowboy."
It wasn't just Warrick that smirked at the little nickname, but Nick as well. She was the only one who could get away with calling him that and she definitely took advantage of that fact.
"See you two later," waved Warrick, already halfway down the hall towards Grissom's office.
"What do we have?"
The two started walking in the other direction towards the front door.
"We have a homicide in a residential area just outside of town."
"What happened?"
"A woman about the age of twenty-five was murdered in her bathroom," responded Sara as she took out the keys to her Tahoe.
"Is David there yet?"
"He just left."
"Alright."
"Hey, Nick?" started Sara as she slide into the front seat of the navy blue vehicle.
"Yeah, Sidle?"
"How was your sleep last night?"
