"I am going to EAT YOU ALIVE!"

"I'M GONNA FEED YOU TO PIRAHNAS!"

"Well, I'm gonna…. I DUNNO WHAT I'M GONNA DO, BUT IT'S GONNA BE BAD!"

Well, let me start by explaining just how this conversation took place… My name is Greg Sanders, and I'm 28 years old. I work for the Crime Lab in Las Vegas—the night shift. It so happened that one day, while I was MINDING MY OWN BUSINESS, on my DAY OFF, our new CSI, who was dating Nick, stopped by my house.
"Hiya Greg," Debbie smiled politely. "Have you seen Sarah anywhere?"

"No, why?"
"I was looking for her, that's all. Will you come help me look?"

I mean, how could I say no to those freaking puppy dog eyes. "Sure."

So thirty minutes later I was turning the building upside down. Nick appeared beside Debbie, smiling—and leading Sarah. They shoved Sarah and I into the broom closet. Sarah howled, and I banged on the door.

"LET ME OUTTA HERE!" we screamed.

"Well," I said, sighing, sitting down. "What are we going to do about this? We need to be logical."
"I don't care," Sarah moaned. "I'm clostraphobic, though."

"You think I'm any happier to be here?"

"I highly doubt it."
"…. I have playing cards, Sarah."

"I don't want your freaking playing cards, Greg."
Yet, after thirty minutes of clawing at the door, she sat down across from me.

"What do you want to play?" I asked calmly.

"Craphead."

And do you know what that witch had the nerve to do? She CHEATED!

"I am going to EAT YOU ALIVE!" I yelled.

"I'M GONNA FEED YOU TO PIRAHNAS!" She screamed.

"Well, I'm gonna…. I DUNNO WHAT I'M GONNA DO, BUT IT'S GONNA BE BAD!" I bellowed, out of witty responses.

She threw herself back huffily in the floor. "I hate you."
"If we're gonna get outta here," I snapped. "We are going to have to truce."
"Over my dead body."

"What time is it?"

"Like I'd tell you."

I grabbed her arm and pushed the button on her Walmart watch that made it glow. "We've only been in here for EIGHT MINUTES! I think I'm going to commit suicide!"

"Grow up, Greg. I'm not that bad."

I cackled maniacly. "NOT THAT BAD? YOU ARE PSYCHO, MELODRAMATIC, AND HATEFUL!"

She kicked me. "Serves you right."

"Ouch! That hurt," I complained.

The next thirty minutes passed in silence, which drove both of us totally and completely insane. Solitude can do that to you.

"Any idea why they locked us in a broom closet together?" she finally asked wearily.

"Not a clue." I was leaned against the wall, my feet propped on an old, overturned bucket.

"Someone will eventually find us."
"Sarah, it's our day off. They won't even think of us."

"So, well, let's play 20 Questions—only about ourselves. We have to do something, or we'll go crazy."

"Whatever."
"Okay," she scowled. "Question one—why did you become a lab rat?"
"I've always wanted to be one. Next."

"Don't dodge questions. Okay, Question two—have you ever been married?"
"Hey, hey, that's personal," I snarled.

"Sorry to touch a nerve, but this is twenty questions."

"It's on a need to know basis, and you don't need to know."

"Come on—spill."
"YES I HAVE BEEN MARRIED!"

"Whoa. Okay. Numero Three…. What kind of music do you like?"

"Hard rock. Loud punk. Alternative."
"Urgh." She wrinkled her nose. "I like pop and country."

I stuck my tongue out. "Next question, please."

"Number four—who was she?"
"Enough about Nadeshiko already," I sighed, closing my eyes. "Well, her name was Nadeshiko. She died six years ago."

"I'm sorry," she said softly, sounding truly apologetic. "Five—what TV shows do you watch?"
"Spongebob," I answered truthfully.

She burst out laughing.

"Six—have you ever heard of Anime?"
"WHOA I LOVE ANIME!" I replied happily.

"Seven—what anime do you watch?"

"Teen titans, full metal alchemist, and…."
"And? And, go on!"

"Cardcaptor Sakura," I mumbled.
"OMIGOD!" she laughed.

"GET ON WITH IT!"
"Eight—what are a few of your hobbies?"

"I work. I do not have a life," I rolled my eyes. "No, seriously, I'm a total neat freak, so I'm always making sure my CDs are in alphabetical order. And I'm on MSN a lot."

"Nine—Are you single?"
"Ouch. Way to bruise the ol' ego." I winced. "Yes. I am."
"Ten—what do you look for in a girl?"

"Why does it matter! Um, really, though, I don't want her to be super-tall—nothing sucks more than having to look up to a girl—and I want her to like music, and to not care what's on the outside. I want her to like me for me."

"Awww, how sweet. Eleven—Can you sing?"
"No!" I laughed. "No, I can't. I'm horrible at it."

She grinned. "That's hilarious. Um. Twelve—Do you have the hots for anyone in the office?" Her smile was wicked.

"Maybe."

"Thirteen—what are her initials?"
"Her last initial," I scowled, "Is S. Or C. GOD, HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW HOW TO SPELL HER LAST NAME!"

"So her last initial is S or C. Hmmmmm. Fourteen—Dayshift or nightshift."
"I am not revealing that particular information."

"Fifteen—Does she have a daughter?"
"Not that I know of," I said, alarmed.

"Sixteen—Does she work for Grissom?"
"YES! YES, OKAY?"

"So she works on the night shift… Seventeen—what kind of clothes would you like her to wear?"
"Whatever she likes. I'm okay with anything."
"Oooh, smooth answer. Eighteen—On a scale of one to ten, how much do you like her?"

"Twelve," I laughed hollowly.

"Nineteen—what's her name? No avoiding it!"
"Sarah Sidle."
"What?" she asked, sticking her finger in her ear as if she didn't hear me.
"YOU!" I finally yelled.

"Twenty—will you go out with me?"

I blinked, alarmed.

"um."
"Answer me, you moron."
"Uh, yeah."

"Twenty one—"
"Against the rules!"

"Will you kiss me?"

I leaned forward, startled. An hour alone in a broom closet had made Sarah like me? As soon as my lips met hers, the door flew open, and there stood the whole gang—Grissom, Nick, Debbie, Warrik, Brass, Dr. Robbins, and Catherine. Catcalls, whoops, and whistles met my ears. My face turned bright red, and I jerked away from Sarah.

"I'm glad we played match maker," grinned Nick, offering his hand to help me up. "Good job, man."
I had never been so embarrassed in my life. "I can't stand you guys."
"First comes love, then comes marriage," grinned Debbie, and I put my hand over her mouth to silence her.
"SHUT UP!"

Sarah laughed.

Apparently she thought this was FUNNY.

I burst into reluctant laughter… after all, what use was there in being upset? I HAD SCORED A DATE WITH SARAH!