It's almost the end of your shift. You're sitting at your computer, watching CODIS run, waiting for a match.

"Sara?" Nick interrupts you. "Are you coming? We're going out for breakfast."

You frown, and remember that it's Wednesday. Wednesday means team breakfast. You sigh.

"Yeah, I'll be five minutes," you say and pull yourself away from the computer. You go to your locker, grab your stuff and trail after the others. They've already ordered by the time you get there. Nick pats a space next to him, and you drop yourself into the seat. The others nod in your direction, and continue with their conversation.

"What are they talking about?" you ask Nick.

"Dunno," he says, "But I'm surprised you managed to drag yourself away from your case to be here."

You roll your eyes. "I come here every week, don't I?" you argue.

"True," he admits, "But you're always late, and always grumbling how the time could be better spent on your case."

"I'm not now," you say, warming up to the argument.

"Yeah, that's only because your case is at a dead end," he says, grinning.

"Not necessarily," you shoot back.

"Hey, look," Nick says, and points, "food!"

"You're just changing the subject," you protest.

He laughs.

"You know you only did that because you knew you'd lose," you say, smiling.

"Hey!" he exclaims, forgetting about the plate in front of him, "that's not true!"

Eventually your food arrives as well. You start talking about how at college you had to waitress all the way through so you could pay for the fees. He doesn't notice that you've changed the subject at first and he starts talking about his college jobs. He's lifting his fork up to his mouth when he suddenly frowns.

"Hey," he says, "Weren't we talking about something else before?" he continues, poking his fork in the air.

You can't help but grin.

"And you were losing the argument?" he asks, waving his fork around. His food falls off onto his plate, splattering tomato sauce everywhere

"It was an animated discussion," you say, trying to hold back laughter

He appears not to have noticed the tomato sauce everywhere, but the team is watching him, trying to hold back laughter.

"How did you change the subject like that?" he asks, confused, "How come when I changed the subject, you immediately noticed, but when you did, I didn't?"

"I used to be a debater in college," you say.

"Oh," he says. Then he notices everyone looking at him, grinning.

"What?" he asks defensively. Then he sees his plate, his shirt, the table.

"How did that…" he starts to ask, and then looks at the fork in his hand.

"Oh," he says, looking deflated.

The team bursts into laugher, you included.

After that, work seems, well, slightly bland. You ask yourself what happened. This used to be what you lived for. But it doesn't appear so right now. The shifts drag on like they never have before. You find yourself looking forward to Wednesday.