DISCLAIMER: All the junk in my room, yeah, that's mine… but these characters? Come on, do I really look as though I might be called CBS? Sadly not…

SUMMARY: An inter-lab ice-hockey tournament – need I say any more? An attempt at a little humour and fluff

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I don't usually write anything remotely humorous or fluffy, neither do I play ice-hockey so please bear with me and feel free to point out any inaccuracies. Reviews will make my day.

'You have got to be kidding me. Nu uh, no way, I would much rather work a triple here. You have enough without me, yeah? I think Ecklie said something anyway and I'm supposed to….'

'Sara...' Grissom cuts me off mid sentence.

'Yeah?' I look up hopefully, no longer attempting to find excuses by looking at the ceiling, the floor or anywhere where there isn't one of my colleagues sitting.

'You're playing.' Grissom speaks with decisiveness in a way that only he can, telling me that there is absolutely no point in arguing.

'It's only a bit of fun with emphasis on the team-building element of it as much as the competition itself. You're starting as a forward with Greg and Warrick. Catherine and Nick will be playing defence and I'm goaltending. Brass, Hodges and a few others are going to come along as subs but aren't exactly keen on playing.'

Greg can't contain his excitement any longer. 'This is going to be so wild. The other labs had better watch out, the Greg-master is in town!'

I can't help but laugh, however hard I am trying to show that I am unimpressed with arrangements. Greg seems to have this effect on people. You just can't help but smile when he is around.

'I've booked the rink for the end of the shift just so we can at least get a bit of practice. So go off, do your jobs and we'll meet there.'

Usually it's easy to measure the mood in the break-room but this… this is different. For Nick and Greg it might as well be Christmas morning. Both seem to be discussing tactics or, in fact, anything remotely hockey related for the entire shift. Without quite sharing their enthusiasm, Catherine and Warrick certainly seem to be looking forward to the experience and the opportunity of some time neither at home nor at work. So, it's just me who isn't looking forward to it then. Oh well, maybe something will come up so that I can't get out of it.

'Are you coming or what?' a voice suddenly brings me back to reality. The shift had been a quiet one and so I have taken to going over some old cases. My lack of success on this front is certainly not helping my mood – neither is Nick's chirpy face at the door.

'I guess…' I know that there is no point arguing over it and that I might as well get the whole ordeal over with. Anyway, I'm sure that it won't be me who will be making the excuses for why I shouldn't be on the team by the time that this practice is over.

The rink's just up the road and, for that, I am grateful so that I don't have to put up with Nick's incessant hockey-talk for much longer. The others are already there and kitting up by the time that we arrive and so I set about following their example. While I am quite impressed by the speed that I figure out which pad goes where, I still manage to be the last one out on the ice by a good five or ten minutes.

'C'mon Sidle, it can't be that hard. Look at the others. If Greg can make it look that easy then it really can't be that bad. And Catherine and Grissom… they can't have done it that much before, must be easy to pick up.'

Tentatively I step out onto the ice, very much aware of the fact that there are many pairs of eyes now focussed entirely on me.

'OK… this feels a little strange… I'll just use the side a bit until I get my balance a little better….'

I stay there, clinging to the side and my skates slip and slide on the ice beneath me.

'Don't look at them Sidle, they'll just be getting on with their drills and paying absolutely no attention to you whatsoever. OK, OK, who am I kidding? I can hear the laughter from over here. No Greg, please don't come over, please don't come over. You're coming over…'

'Need a hand?'

'Does it look as though I need a hand? Of course I need a hand, I can barely stand up, let alone chase after a puck, tackle, score and whatever else all of you expect me to do. You're not laughing though, you almost seem sincere… wow! Greg can be sincere! Can he?

'Yeah, that'd be great thanks.' I find myself answering and reaching out to take hold of the stick that he is holding out for me.

'I take it you haven't skated before then?'

'You're joking, right? Yeah, you know, I used to be a professional but then completely forgot how to do it after diving head first into one of these boards. Of course I haven't skated before.'

'Nope, never. How'd you make it look so easy anyway?'

Greg shrugs nonchalantly. 'I guess I did a bit as a kid and it's like riding a bike. You can't forget how to skate.'

'There goes my story about being a professional. I seem to be getting a bit better at this. It's quite fun really. Let's just try letting go of Greg's stick for a while, I feel quite stable. Oh… maybe not… don't these things have brakes? How do you stop? No, No, I don't want to be going towards those boards… why am I still going towards the boards? Oh '

'Sara, are you ok?' Greg is immediately over to where I am now lying on the ice.

'One head, two arms, two legs. Yes, everything still seems to be here'

'Yeah, thanks.' I try to get up as if to prove that it's nothing and that I am perfectly fine but somehow find myself keep coming back to the exact same position, lying flat on the ice. Fearing that I might look even more stupid than I already feel, I take hold of Greg's hand that he is holding out for me and use it to help myself back up to my feet. I have a feeling that this skating lark isn't going to be as easy as it looks.

By the end of the session, I ache all over. I feel quite proud of myself though – by the end I was just about skating by myself and was even starting to hit a few pucks. Add to that the fact that my number of falls stayed in single figures… or at least close to single figures… ok, ok, less than twenty then and I think I have reason to celebrate and to enjoy breakfast with the others.

I've still got three or four practices until the tournament… if only I could just stay on my feet and maybe even skate at more than a snail's pace….

Griss gets a call just as we are being served breakfast. There's been a homicide in town, and so Griss and I are going to head off to the scene because they need a couple of extra CSIs. At last, back in my territory.

TBC….