We couldn't speak much on the ride back, what with the propellers effectively blocking out most of our words, but she wore her gap-toothed grin most of the way. I felt another unfamiliar jab of spite at the thought that I may not be the person inspiring it. Once we had landed, I noticed her shedding her safety gear in a whirl wind. I watched her Tasmanian Devil imitation for a full minute before she caught me.
"What?" her cheeks tinged a slight red and I chose to believe that it was because she was flattered by my attention.
"Ants in the pants?" I asked with a smirk.
"Oh, I just thought that we, uh, should probably hurry to meet David and get started on the case… ESD is probably dropping it off about now," as her blush increased ten-fold I realized the last one had nothing to do with me.
I purposely took my time after her revelation, getting out of the gear extra carefully (AKA slowly) and stopping to chat with any of the guys that had been with us in the air lift. At first Sara tried to rush me along, but I think that after I had sought out the fourth guy with nothing relevant to say she realized what I was up to. After that she kept quiet until we reached the lab.
As we entered the coroner's office we both shifted back into working gear. It was all business until Dave had mentioned that his estimated time of death was delivered by "the sound of things."
"Sound?" Sara questioned, tilting her head adorably in an inquisitive gesture.
Dave reached over and gave the bag a little jiggle. The resulting sloshing sound turned my stomach further. "You weren't here when ESD brought this in," he spoke as he continued to create the sound.
"Oh, it wasn't from lack of trying," I cut in before I could stop myself. I heard a tiny bitter edge to my voice as I spoke poker-faced to the coroner. I prayed that neither he nor Sara had caught it. In an attempt to hide the undesirable effect her interest in another guy was having on me, I turned and smiled at Sara as soon as the line had left my mouth. I couldn't hold the smile there for long though and my face faded into what I feared was a grim expression. She tilted her head and offered a crooked smile as she watched the transformation on my face, clearly amused at what she assumed was our normal banter. I raised my eyebrows in challenge, wordlessly begging her to assure me she didn't like that loser paramedic. My sombre expression removed any pretences of the teasing quality my words normally contained. Her smile dimmed quickly as she realized that I was really bothered.
Uncomfortable by our silent exchange, Dave broke in: "Let's go to the VIP room. I'll show you what I mean." I think Sara might have momentarily forgotten that he was there because she snapped her head towards him at the sudden reminder that we were supposed to be working. I quickly walked past her, careful to not look at her.