1. In Which Mr. Sanders is Back at DNA
Greg Sanders poured over the microscope in his old lab, pausing briefly to take in a sip of the fragrant coffee at his elbow. He leaned in, and carefully turned and twisted the knobs to bring a blood sample from Nick's case into focus more clearly. Without conscious thought, he pressed the codes for the processing that the rest of the sample was to receive. His eyes focused on the hemoglobin platelets, but his other senses noticed Sara as soon as she rounded the corner from the garage. A smile tugged at his lips, and it turned to a grin as she entered, and came to stand beside him.
"And just when I thought this room couldn't get any brighter." He raised his eyes to meet her gaze, and accepted the chaste kiss she dropped on his lips.
"Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Sanders." She smiled, and laid an evidence bag holding numerous sample containers on his desk.
"I tend to go with the tried and true." He raised his mug to his lips. "Tell me this isn't my Christmas present, love."
"No, these would be all the blood samples from that homicide at the Tangiers. Gris and I have it figured, just waiting on you, sunshine."
"Plain hits? What, no comparisons?"
"We just need an ID." He groaned dramatically.
"Sara, honey, if I'm going to be stuck in this time warp, you can't even give me something fun?" She broke into a smile, as the DNA machine beeped. Greg spun in his swivel seat to face the other monitor. "I think I have a hit for Nick. Hold on a sec, love." Greg's fingers danced across the keyboard, as his eyes darted from the printouts to the monitor, back to the print outs, and over to the microscope, and back to the monitor. Instantly, a side-by-side comparison of DNA samples came up. Sara watched with amusement as Greg went about processing Nick's data a few steps further than he was required in a swift, fluid motion. He picked up the receiver of the desk phone, dialed a number without looking, waited for it to ring once, and hung it up. He swiveled in his seat back to face her, chuckling.
"What's so funny, Greggo?"
"I forgot how much fun this chair is." He flashed her a wide grin. "I'll get right on this for you. You have the guy in custody?"
"Yeah. Just need confirmation." He leaned in, and met her lips with his.
"Yeah, yeah, get out of here so I can do this shitty job I hate." She tossed him a grin and turned to leave.
Nick came tumbling into the lab, rushing over to Greg's area.
"Nick." Greg gathered the papers he had compiled and organized, and handed them over. "I finished up the comparisons for you, and printed out the compiled results." Nick took the stack of papers from Greg, and glanced at the results. Then stared at them again. Long and hard.
"Greg."
"Mmm." Greg had already moved on to Sara's bag of blood, and was entering the label data into the computer. His fingers had resumed their dance, and he was opening a package of sterile droppers. "Was there something you needed?"
"This is amazing, Greg."
"Don't go spreading it around, I want to be back out in the field as soon as Mia pops out the kid and Hodges' sister recovers." Nick tore his eyes from the results.
"Thanks, Greg. I owe you." Greg nodded absentmindedly, as his fingers fell on a yellow post it note. Nick practically ran out of the lab and down the corridor to find Catherine. As he pulled the post it out of the bag, he recognized Sara's even, slender scrawl, and the message brought a smile to his face. He carefully lifted the post it from the blood sample swab, and placed it on the frame of the monitor on his main computer.
"God I love working here." Greg smiled to himself, snapping on a fresh pair of gloves, and setting to work on Sara's blood samples.